What Gandhiji, Dev Anand and Vikram Sarabhai have in common

I have read three biographies in the last twelve months, choosing to do so with great enthusiasm either for the author or the subject or both. Last night, as I made my way through the third, I was struck by the similarity between these remarkable individuals, however unlikely it seems when I list their names: Gandhiji, Dev Anand and Vikram Sarabhai.

Gandhiji


Gandhiji is a fixture of any Indian child's early history lessons, an impossibly moral figure who cannot be real, a sculpture often overlooked in our city-scapes, a road which is often the 'main street' of our urban centres... anything but a person who lived, thought, felt, struggled as we did. This, in spite of the fact that he wrote copiously, candidly and compulsively about his life, thoughts and 'experiments with truth.'


Rajmohan Gandhi's account of Gandhiji's life and times brought home to me a person who was heroic mostly because he was trying and so honestly. I was moved by his transparent uncertainty, his need to be true to oneself and others, and his ability to reconcile life with ideal and do so without compromising the latter. I am awed by his ability to treat small and big things (by my definition) on the same plane: a household/prison/ashram routine, remembering details about individuals around him, projects that reflected his individual predilections (from naturopathy to brahmacharya) and visions that embraced humanity (satyagraha and independence). Not for him what is so easy for me to do: I cannot finish this chore today because I have a paper to write; I cannot exercise because I have to think about conflict resolution.


Dev Anand

Dev Anand. I cannot type this name without smiling; can you read it without smiling?


Dev Anand has epitomized charm for me since long before I thought about 'charm' or knew the word 'epitomize.' As he sashayed through town and country, wearing baggy pants and open smile, a beautiful SD Burman or Jaidev song on his lips, building houses and solving mysteries and facing moral dilemmas, I thought, they don't make real people like this! And even when the orange scarf came to stay and his face and mannerisms aged (it hurts to write this) while his spirit did not, I thought, they still don't make people like this! A few years ago, he was on 'Walk the Talk' and his energy was as infectious as his smile and his charm had been. I discovered another layer of Dev Anand-ness that I could really, really admire.


Dev Anand announced then that he was writing his memoirs and I waited for them like his countless other fans. He said he would launch them on his birthday (September 26) last year, and I ran to the bookstore on the very day. But how ironic! For this is a person who wrote about his past with the impatience of something speedier than Shinkansen (the Japanese bullet-train) and pronounced in his promotional interviews that he never listened to any of his old songs. Excerpts dwelt on his love-life, as does he in the manner of a stock-taking exercise. But this is not what is interesting about him. This is not why I think he is just phenomenal.


Dev Anand's autobiography impresses upon you his optimism, his self-confidence and his need to keep moving. He is sure we love him (of course!); he is sure his creativity is boundless (and it is!) and he has too much to do to conduct post-mortems on anything: movies, relationships, anything at all. I read the tome virtually non-stop, finishing it in two night-sessions. The writing style is unmistakably colonial university and there are stretches that are tedious for even those who do love him, but the compulsion to keep moving is irresistible and finally, that drives the reading process as well.



Vikram Sarabhai

And then, Vikram Sarabhai, as depicted by my contemporary at Elphinstone, Amrita Shah. Sarabhai was not someone I knew much about, but this looked like an interestingly written biography, fluently balancing the individual's story with that of his times. If I had to analyze my motivation for buying this, it would be partly that Amrita wrote this and Amrita writes well, and partly that biographies of this sort are still unusual in India.


Having never given Dr. Sarabhai any thought, I did not expect to find myself reading the story of a visionary, an institution-builder and a team-builder. As I read her account, I found myself thinking, 'Wow! Could I be like that?' I envied him his confidence and hoped there were things about him that I could identify with. The story of small beginnings to major institutions, the chutzpah to just go out and ask for what you need, the ability to take no for an answer and most importantly, the charisma and energy to draw talent to one's vision and the self-confidence to nurture another's genius--are all inspiring to one who is setting up a space of her own, with far fewer resources.

The commonalities


As I read Amrita's book, I found myself reflecting that in one year, I had been drawn to read three life-stories that have certain elements in common. Gandhiji, Dev Anand and Dr. Sarabhai were all raised in comfortable-to-affluent homes, but each in their own sphere of work was starting afresh. They were not without support, but it cannot have been easy to predict the way things would turn out for each of them. All three showed an unusual measure of self-confidence, whether because of temperament, a prediction or because they were to the manner born. However, that kind of confidence can also make a person stagnate and this happened with none of them. They chose their line of work, they followed their conscience/creativity/curiosity and they took chances.

All three individuals are high achievers but because their own success and achievement became by-products rather than their singular objective, they were able to create legacies that will survive them by generations.

In Gandhiji's case, arguably, we are that legacy, each of us Indians. In Dev Anand's case, it is a tremendous body of work, hits or flops, in Indian cinema which we will enjoy and analyze for years. In Dr. Sarabhai's case, that legacy is a network of enterprises and institutions that have been benchmark centres of excellence.


All three individuals began right where they stood. They did not wait for another life, another stage, another moment. Gandhiji's political career began when he found himself in a situation that needed a neutral arbiter soon after he arrived in South Africa. He did not ask: is this the moment, am I the right person? He just did what was needed to be done. Dev Anand did the rounds of studios and auditions, working as a postal censor during the Second World War. He took risks and capitalized on whatever opportunities came his way. Vikram Sarabhai put his fine education and his family resources to work in ways that remain visionary today. His biographer tells us that his scientific work pales in comparison to his institution-building, without prejudice to the former. To envisage the need for research laboratories, for cultural centres and for institutions for management education is not unusual, but to start them confidently in sheds, in available houses, with what one has, confident that other things will follow... to do this without waiting for the perfect moment. To me that is what he has in common with the two Librans in this discussion.


Those who spread dread are countless, especially, I am sorry to say, in India. Those who dream are fewer, but still not impossible to find. Those who make their dreams come true, a rare breed.


But rarest of all is a quality that these three gentlemen had/have in common: the ability to make their dream the dream of many, many others. Gandhiji told us we could win freedom through non-violence, and most Indians came to believe it with all their hearts. Dev Anand's portrayals of urban sophistication and charm are iconic, and his choice of themes and stories always surprising and new. Navketan's oeuvre will outlive his own story. Sarabhai, we are told, made everyone around him eager to make his dream come true and be the best they could be.


In all these life-stories, I saw glimpses of what every spiritual teacher advocates: mindfulness, being in the present moment, integrity, creativity and the courage to be creative. Ego, too, does not seem all bad; it is where confidence and conviction can receive reinforcements and it is what allows you to bounce back from failures. The ability to build partnerships and coalitions is also a common factor in all three stories, with Gandhiji being the best communicator by far of the three.


I don't really have a conclusion for these reflections are works-in-progress. I do know that this year, I will need a lot of these lessons as we work on creating our own non-profit research space in Chennai. The examples of these fine people will have to take me through the challenges of fund-raising, coalition-building, team-building and an endless procession of drafts and revisions for every single thing we write. I am sure this is not the last you will hear on this subject in this blog!