It is a surprisingly warm midnight even for the month of July. The half moon has lighted the night just enough for us to march towards our destination without being too conspicuous. Few hours earlier few hundred of us quietly slipped out of Panhalgad with our great hero Shivaji, who is fighting against insurmountable odds for our people and our freedom. Shivaji's lookalike Shiv Kashid has gone to meet Siddhi Jouhar, and is sure to be martyred tonight. But that will give us few hours of lead as we race towards a battle to fight at Vishalgad. The big question is whether these few hours are going to be enough? I guess not! For Siddhi Masud's army is already in hot prusuit of us. The war cries of Siddhi Masud's ten thousand men, including a cavalary of three thousand, are reaching us. We are a band of 300 lightly armed infantry. It is becoming clear to us that this will be the last battle of our lives.
As our never-say-die commander Baji Prabhu Deshpande rallies us to take guard, I hear what few of my fellow men are talking about. "This is a disaster"! "The idea of swaraj is great. But couldn't they have planned it better"? "There are bigger enemies to fight with. Why are we even fighting this battle"? "Even if we win this one battle, it will make no difference as our people will never change". "Couldn't they have chosen a better place and time to fight? This is soooo inconvenient". "In all these battles, it is only the poor that suffer". "I admire his courage and his intentions, but I am not a blind devotee to follow him without questioning". I could take it no more. "Keep quiet", I shout, "and do your part. Ten generations before us have suffered in slavery. If we lose this battle tonight, because of your whining, cynicism, skepticism, pessimism, and negativity, our next ten generations will never ever get a chance to fight for freedom! They will never forgive you. So stop complaining and do your part".
It may not have been my words that bring them back to senses. But they do get back to their senses. For we fight. And how!! A depleting force of three hundred of us hold a mightly armed army of ten thousand at bay for five hours, until we hear the canon fire announcing Shivaji's victory and safety at Vishalgad! That's when most of us lay down our lives. As I close my eyes for that one last time, I know that generations after generations will visit this pAvankhinD ("the Sacred Pass") and sing paeans not just of Shivaji, and of Baji Prabhu Deshpande, but also of us anonymous heroic 300 mavalas, who are giving up everything for freedom!
I do now know how much time has passed after that. Some sort of heated talk has woken me up. As I open my eyes and look around, I realize it is not July of 1660. This is December 2016. But I am hearing the same words again. "This is a disaster of an implementation"! "I like the idea, but couldn't they have planned it better"? "There are hundred things broken in this country. How does fixing one make any difference"? "Is it going to be effective at all? So why do I have to suffer this inconvenience"? "I am not a blind bhakt to follow him without questioning". "It is the poor who suffer, while the big fish always go scot-free". "I find the timing very fishy". "Our people never change their habits. Why are you asking me to change?"
This time with less indignation, I say, "Somebody is fighting for us against insurmountable odds. The least we can do is provide support. If we lose this battle due to your doubts, cynicism, pessimism and negativity, generations that come after us will never get such an opportunity. So stop complaining and do your part."
Alas! I do not know whether my words would ever bring these guys to their senses!
As our never-say-die commander Baji Prabhu Deshpande rallies us to take guard, I hear what few of my fellow men are talking about. "This is a disaster"! "The idea of swaraj is great. But couldn't they have planned it better"? "There are bigger enemies to fight with. Why are we even fighting this battle"? "Even if we win this one battle, it will make no difference as our people will never change". "Couldn't they have chosen a better place and time to fight? This is soooo inconvenient". "In all these battles, it is only the poor that suffer". "I admire his courage and his intentions, but I am not a blind devotee to follow him without questioning". I could take it no more. "Keep quiet", I shout, "and do your part. Ten generations before us have suffered in slavery. If we lose this battle tonight, because of your whining, cynicism, skepticism, pessimism, and negativity, our next ten generations will never ever get a chance to fight for freedom! They will never forgive you. So stop complaining and do your part".
It may not have been my words that bring them back to senses. But they do get back to their senses. For we fight. And how!! A depleting force of three hundred of us hold a mightly armed army of ten thousand at bay for five hours, until we hear the canon fire announcing Shivaji's victory and safety at Vishalgad! That's when most of us lay down our lives. As I close my eyes for that one last time, I know that generations after generations will visit this pAvankhinD ("the Sacred Pass") and sing paeans not just of Shivaji, and of Baji Prabhu Deshpande, but also of us anonymous heroic 300 mavalas, who are giving up everything for freedom!
I do now know how much time has passed after that. Some sort of heated talk has woken me up. As I open my eyes and look around, I realize it is not July of 1660. This is December 2016. But I am hearing the same words again. "This is a disaster of an implementation"! "I like the idea, but couldn't they have planned it better"? "There are hundred things broken in this country. How does fixing one make any difference"? "Is it going to be effective at all? So why do I have to suffer this inconvenience"? "I am not a blind bhakt to follow him without questioning". "It is the poor who suffer, while the big fish always go scot-free". "I find the timing very fishy". "Our people never change their habits. Why are you asking me to change?"
This time with less indignation, I say, "Somebody is fighting for us against insurmountable odds. The least we can do is provide support. If we lose this battle due to your doubts, cynicism, pessimism and negativity, generations that come after us will never get such an opportunity. So stop complaining and do your part."
Alas! I do not know whether my words would ever bring these guys to their senses!
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