In the year 1947, I was 18 years old and was the general secretary of the students’ union in Mangalore. When we had our tryst with destiny, I can never forget, as we all rejoiced, we were all elated. My friends and I, we felt we have done it. When we earned our freedom, there was no feeling or emotion of Hindu or Muslim: we were all one. We had experienced independence together as one nation, as one religion. We had such a great celebration; all students came together and felt so proud that no words can express and explain that joy.
In 1942, during the time of the Quit India movement, we had all come out and shouted the slogan. We knew we were going to be beaten up and locked up; how we saved ourselves and continued to participate, I don’t know.
Sense of achievement
When we achieved Independence, it simply meant freedom. It meant we will have our own rule, we are free.
It was a feeling of having achieved something for so many years of struggle and fight and endurance, and we fought for it and won it.
But the other important day for us back then was January 30, 1948. It was on that day that not just the whole city but also the whole country was in tears.
After we rejoiced in August, we experienced the contrast five months later. All those who were happy on August 15, 1947, were very sad on January 30, 1948, when Mahatma Gandhi was assassinated. It was a contrast to what we had longed for and finally achieved. The city and the country that rejoiced in freedom was mourning the death of one man, right till all his rites got over. We all could not eat, we just couldn’t be at peace.
