IN THE MIDST OF A TEMPEST ... 1

In the midst of a cataclysm, he who can hold himself together without losing poise or dignity is the yogi indeed. When the Second World War ended, such was the predicament of Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose, and yet he retained his tranquil repose even as he feverishly lent the final touches to his revolutionary bid for freedom. With not a piece of landmass in this wide world to stand on, he left for Russia to seek possible refuge, for his countrymen had made common cause with the British and would not allow him entry into his motherland.

Pandit, Patel, Prasad and Pant were all equally culpable to the offence of ostracising that premier patriot such that he was reduced to this pitiable state where he could no more find room anywhere in his beloved motherland, while the mischievous messiah of them all, who had manoeuvred to keep the 'violent miscreant' out of mainstream politics, played the hypocrite's role in pandering to the Muslim League and His Majesty the King of England. Against all odds Subhas Chandra had had to leave his country to find an alternate route to liberation when all had shamelessly compromised with the colonisers and had set up shop to sell India.