Portrayal of Gandhi
in “Waiting for the Mahatma”
R. A. JAYANTHA
Waiting for the Mahatma (1955) is perhaps the most controversial
novel of R. K. Narayan. Apart from its artistic
merits and demerits (which are considerable), many Indian readers of the novel
have felt dissatisfied with it and found it difficult to warm up to it
particularly because of the way the Mahatma is portrayed in it. Non-Indian
readers however have more or less favourably reacted
to it, while being alive to its artistic lapses. An extreme instance is H. M.
Williams who regards it as one of the two “most mature novels” of Narayan (Studies in Modern Indian Fiction in English. Vol. I, Writers Workshop,
There is no gainsaying at all that WFM, for
all its readability, is indeed unsatisfactory and disappointing as a novel. But
if we could see it for what it really is in itself, we would be able to arrive
at a fair assessment of it as well as Narayan’s
handling of the Gandhian motif in it. The first thing
to note about WFM is that it is not a “Gandhi-Novel” as one is
very likely to assume it to be. Uma Parameswaran, for instance, has asserted: “It is a Gandhian novel...and the theme is Gandhism.”
(A Study of Representative Indo-English Novelists.
Vikas Publishing House,
Briefly, WFM tells the story of two
young people of Malgudi, Sriram
and Bharathi. Sriram is an
orphaned young man brought up without a care by his pampering grand-mother, who
makes over to him on his twentieth birthday a considerable fortune. He is
shaken out of his life of complacency and stagnation when he gets to know Bharathi, a Gandhian volunteer.
She too is an orphaned child.
Her father had been shot dead white offering satyagraha against the British during the Non-Co-operation movement of 1920. She,
who was just an infant then, was adopted and brought up by the Sevak Sangh, a Gandhian institution, as a foster-daughter to Gandhi. Sriram and Bharathi happen to
fall in love with each other. It is they who wait for the Mahatma at the Birla Mandir in
Narayan introduces into this fictional world Mahatma
Gandhi as one of the characters and gives him considerable importance in it. In
doing so Narayan was taking a very great risk. For
Gandhi is too large a subject to be ushered into a small-scale novel. And there
are other attendant problems for the novelist. Although Narayan
attempted this novel some years after Gandhi’s, death, still he was much too
close in time to Gandhi to view him with sufficient artistic detachment. The
next major problem for him is one of balancing properly the Sriram-Bharathi
motif and the Gandhi motif in the novel. It is a commonplace that Narayan as novelist is almost invariably interested in
people who are average and ordinary and in studying their relationships. That
is at once the strength as well as the limitation of his art. Sriram and Bharathi of WFM are
of this kind. The problem for the novelist is, what particular aspects of
Gandhi’s life and person should he include in the
novel to be at once historically authentic and aesthetically consistent with
the rest of the novel. Gandhi was not only “a giant among men”, as Radhakrishan described him, but in the eyes of the millions
of his countrymen a saint, a Mahatma, a living legend, inspiring veneration and
worship. When such a character as this is introduced into the novel, inevitably
he overshadows and dwarfs all the others in it, resulting in a thorough
imbalance of interests. What is worse, it may even result in huddling together
the sublime and the ridiculous. In spite of Narayan’s
carefully devised strategy, WFM has not been able to escape wholly these
lapses.
Yet another problem confronting Narayan, one peculiar to him, is the necessity of having to
bring into the novel in a good measure the political developments of the Gandhian decades, although, to be sure, Gandhi was no mere
politician. For, as a writer
of fiction Narayan’s interest in politics and political ideologies has always been minimal. He
himself has testified more than once that politics do not interest him as a
creative writer. His studied avoidance of current politics as major themes in
his fiction has given room for some dissatisfaction with his work as well as
misunderstanding of it. But Narayan is neither blind
nor indifferent to political happenings. The several incidental references to
them in his works, early and late, demonstrate how observant he is. However, it
is a matter of his artistic temperament that the vicissitudes of politics,
which are ephemeral, do not engage his attention as much as the processes of
life do. When he has to take note of them, as in WFM, he takes a
deliberately detached and an ironical view of them. This may very well be one
of the reasons for Narayan’s rather belated
use of the Gandhian theme; long after novelists like Mulk Raj Anand
and Raja Rao, contemporaneous with him, had used it even in the ’Thirties.
To steer clear of these hurdles Narayan has had to devise for WFM a narrative
strategy consistent with his own artistic temper and intention. What he does is
to focus attention mainly on the humane qualities of Gandhi, which had
enthroned him in the hearts of his countrymen, in spite of his towering far,
far above them in other respects. This device enables the novelist to avoid any
detailed discussion, debate or elaboration of the politics of the day, which
Gandhi guided. Thereby the chief Interest of the novel and of Gandhi in it
remains human rather than political, and the novelist feels free to allow his
comic irony to play upon events and people, as he does in his other novels.
Therefore, in its essentials WFM is not political at all. There is an
interesting passage early in the novel which may be recalled here. When Gandhi
visits Malgudi, Nataraj,
the Municipal Chairman, presents an address to him, which has been thoroughly scrutinised and censored in advance by the District
Collector. In this context the narrator remarks that all those passages which
hinted at the work done by Gandhiji in the political
field” had been censored. “The picture of him as a social reformer was left
intact and even enlarged; anyone who read the address would conclude that
politics were the last thing that Mahatmaji was
interested in” (p. 26). With suitable modifications these remarks can be
applied to Gandhi in the novel. Gandhian politics, of
course, are not left out, because they cannot be, but played down and relegated
to the background.
Gandhi’s address to the people of Malgudi in the initial pastes of the novel is quite
revealing in this regard. He makes only a passing and indirect reference to the
British and the freedom of the country, but tells his audience more about the
need to discipline themselves to become “soldiers of a non-violent army,” by practising daily “Ram Dhun”,
spinning on the Charkha and...absolute
Truth and Non-violence” (p. 17). He goes on to explain how non-violence can be practised in daily life. Later on in the novel these and
other Gandhian ideas like Satyagraha, and
political developments such as the Dandi Salt March
and the Quit India movement are brought in, in so, far as they can be
understood by people who are ordinary and average. In fact it is through the
eyes of Sriram, whose perception and understanding
are very limited, that Gandhi and the struggle for freedom are seen. As Harish Raizada remarks “Even our
knowledge of Mahatma Gandhi’s personality is confined to such traits of his
character as fall within the purview of Sriram” and
others (“point of view in the novels of
R. K. Narayan.” Perspectives on R. K. Narayan, ed., Atma Ram. p.
79). Sriam himself is treated with mild irony by the novelist.
If this aspect of Naravan’s strategy in WFM is
borne in mind, one would not look for In it what was never intended to be put
in. To that extent one’s disappointment with the novel and with its portrayal
of Gandhi in particular, would be lessened.
Gandhi is introduced into the novel quite
early. He, visits Malgudi during his tour of South
India and stays there for a few days. It is then that Sriram
happens to listen to him addressing the people on the sands of Sarayu. Sriram listens to him
with rapt attention and is deeply impressed, although he cannot grasp Gandhi’s
meaning. But he is even more impressed by the Gandhian
volunteer Bharathi, whom he had chanced to meet
earlier when she was connecting money for a fund. So he loins the group of
volunteers following the Mahatma so that he can be as close as possible to Bharathi. That is how he follows Gandhi on his tour of the
villages hit by famine, moves closely with him and thus has opportunities to
observe him. Early in part two of the novel, Gandhi leaves the neighbhorhood of Malgudi after
having visited a number of villages. He is seen once again in the last pages of
the novel, which closes rather abruptly with his sudden death at the hands of
an assassin. In between one hears about him every now and then, about his
movements and activities. Sriram and Bharathi have letters from him and have the benefit of his
advice regarding the course of action they ought to take in opposing the
British. Several other characters in the novel are connected with Gandhi
directly and indirectly, and react to him in different ways. He is very much on
the tongues of the people. Thus he remains a felt presence in the novel, though
not as the centre of attention.
How does Gandhi strike the reader when he
makes his first appearance in the novel? It is of paramount importance with
what words and gestures he is introduced. It has to be admitted that Narayan bungles here, and the objections of Narasimhaiah (The Writer’s Gandhi. Punjabi
University, Patiala. pp. 71-72) and Uma Parameswaran (A Study of
Representative Indo-English Novelists. pp. 66-77) are indeed well-taken.
The very first words spoken by Gandhi strike a false note. While his beginning
the meeting with Ram Dhun is very
characteristic of him, it is incongruous to say that his voice “boomed” in the
amplifier. One cannot at any time associate the word “boom” with Gandhi’s
voice. And then, his mode of expressing his dissatisfaction with the way the
gathering repeats Ram Dhun is again
unconvincing: “No good, Not enough. I like to see more vigour
in your arms, more rhythm, more spirit. It must be like the drum-beats of the
non-violent soldiers marching on to cut the chains that bind Mother India...”
(p. 16). The tone, the exuberance of expression, and the idiom are more appropriate
to a popular demogogue than to Gandhi. Uma Parameswaran has drawn
attention to the “weakness of language” in Gandhi”s
first address at Malgudi (Ibid. p. 67).
Once the preliminaries are gone through, Narayan feels less unsure of himself in handling Gandhi.
Gandhi’s image emerges through incidental happenings. He makes himself
absolutely and effortlessly at home in Malgudi. To
the embarrassment and disappointment of the Municipal Chairman, he chooses to
stay, while in Malgudi, in the sweepers’ colony. The
novel gives with effortless ease a faithful account of Gandhi’s habits and
routine activities–his walks, his spinning, his hours of prayer and rest, his
love of children and his disarming ways with people of all kinds. His capacity
to do a number of things simultaneously is brought out well in a short space: “Mahatmaji performed a number of things simultaneously. He
spoke to visitors. He dictated. He wrote. He prayed. He had his sparse dinner
of nuts and milk, and presently he even laid himself down on the Divan and went
off to sleep” (p. 34).
By the end of Part One, the image of Gandhi
as he appears in this novel is more or less established. He is seen mainly
through the eyes of such people as Sriram who are
aware of Gandhi primarily as the Mahatma, and through the eyes of such devoted
followers as Bharati and Gorpad.
There are, of course, a few exceptions such as Sriram’s
grand-mother in whose eyes Gandhi “was one who preached dangerously, who tried
to bring untouchables into the temples, and who involved people in difficulties
with the police.” (p. 41) There are others like Nataraj
and the timber-contractor who profess admiration and respect for Gandhi and at
the same time please the rulers by their loyalty. There is the terrorist Jagadish who does not mind using Gandhi’s name to serve his
ends. But for the majority of people Gandhi is the saintly Mahatma. Even Sriram’s fellow-prisoner, who was serving term for
house-breaking and murder, joins his palms together at the mention of Gandhi’s
name.
In the pages of WFM Gandhi is seen
endearing himself to people and commanding universal reverence not merely as a
votary of truth and non-violence, but by his child-like qualities, his
spontaneous humanity and compassion. Particularly noteworthy is the brief but
very moving account of Gandhi’s tour of Naokhali
given by Bharati towards the end of the novel. Hers
is an eyewitness’s account and carries with it the force of authenticity:
Bapu said his place was where people were
suffering and not where they were celebrating. He said that if a country cannot
give security to women and children, it’s not worth living in. He said it would
be worth dying if that would make his philosophy better understood. We followed
him. Each day we walked five miles through floods and fields, silently. He
walked with bowed head, all through those swamps of East Bengal. We stopped for
a day or two in each village, and he spoke to those who had lost their homes,
property, wives, and children. He spoke kindly to those who had perpetrated
crimes–he wept for them, and they swore never to do such things again.... Bapuji forbade us to refer to anyone in terms of religion
as Muslim, Hindu, or Sikh, but just as human beings...There were a few places
where they showed their anger even against Mahatmaji.
They held up placards threatening Bapu’s life unless
he turned back and left them. But in such places he stayed longer than in other
places. And ultimately he held his ground (p. 166).
As the foregoing passage shows, Narayan’s account of the riots is not only brief and matter
of fact, it avoids completely all melodrama and sentimentality, to which a
lesser writer would have readily yielded. Instead it directs our attention to
the humanity and infinite compassion of Gandhi. The novel implies that for the
average man and woman the Mahatmahood of Gandhi is
pre-eminently due to these qualities in him.
The great interest that Gandhi takes in the
marriage of Sriram and Bharati,
who wait for his permission which, of course, is given, has come in for sharp
criticism. It has been asked whether the Mahatma did not have anything better
to do, especially when the entire nation was convulsed by mass-scale violence
and dire issues. It is implied that such an interest, which from the critic’s
point of view is trivial, makes the portrait of Gandhi in the novel
unconvincing. Recently Ramesh Shrivastava
has exclaimed in exasperation: “Gandhi comes as a matchmaker–what a role for
the father of the nation!” (“What is so great in R. K. Narayan?” Perspectives on R. K. Narayan. p. 207. ) These objections are plausible, because it is difficult to warm up to Sriram, and the novel does not give any convincing reasons
for Bharati’s preference for him, unless it is blind
love. However, they are characters given to us and we should see if the novel
itself provides us with any convincing explanation for Gandhi’s interest in the
young pair.
As if Narayan
anticipated such an objection from his readers, he prepares them well in
advance for this particular role of Gandhi in the novel. Early enough in the
novel (Part Two) Sriram raises with Bharati the question of their getting married. When she
insists on waiting for Gandhi’s sanction for it, the impatient Sriram himself asks whether it would be proper for them to
put the Mahatma to trouble. Was not this too small a matter to be brought to
his notice? As Sriram puts it, “He is too big to
bother about us, Don’t trouble him with our affairs.” But Bharati
is determined that she would marry only if Gandhi “sanctions” it, although she
too admits that “Bapu has better things to do than
finding a husband for me.” (p. 91)
Bharati’s insistence can be seen in the right
perspective provided we understand the relationship between her and Gandhi as
developed in the novel. Once that is understood, we could examine whether the
role the Mahatma is made to play is consistent with his character as portrayed
in the novel and as known to history. What Gandhi means to her, Bharati explains to Sriram: “You
know, my father died during the 1920 movement. Just when I was born. When he
learnt of it Bapuji, who had come down South, made
himself my godfather and named me Bharati...” (p. 38)
Significantly while all others in the novel including Sriram
refer to Gandhi as “Mahatma”, she always refers to him as “Bapu”
(father). He regards her as his daughter and feels the same concern as a father
feels for his child. This father-daughter relationship between them is clearly
established very early in the novel. Since Bharati
sees in Gandhi a father, she is able to identify herself readily and
whole-heartedly with his ideals and programme of
action. She remains a true Gandhian and follows him even to Naokhali
as a close companion of his. Therefore what could be more natural for a Hindu daughter than to seek and wait for
her father’s approval for her marriage, and for him to give it? It would be a thorough misreading of what
happens in the novel to regard Gandhi as a “match-maker”. He merely gives his
consent to the young people whom he has known well and who have waited for it
for years. And he is not being officious at all in offering to be the priest at
their wedding.
This situation in the novel also illustrates
how Gandhi affected the lives of several people, big and small, in those days
of the freedom struggle. What is more, no place was too small, no person too
insignificant for his attention. Nor did he regard himself as too big for
anybody. His love was so abounding that hundreds of people sought and found in
him solutions for their personal problems and solace for their private agonies.
Viewed as a whole, Narayan’s
portrayal of Gandhi In WFM is partial, and one can only express a
qualified approval of it. But within its limits it does draw our attention to
some important traits of Gandhi’s personality. If some readers have found it to
be rather conventional, it is because the novelist has tried to project the
image of Gandhi as known to the ordinary and average man. Any other kind of
portrayal, say, a close and critical analysis and interpretation of Gandhi’s personality,
would have been inconsistent with the needs of the novel Narayan
had set out to write. That he could have done a much better job of it even
within the self-imposed limits need not prevent us from giving him his due for
what he has achieved.
* Hereafter the title is abbreviated to WFM. Quotations from the
text are from Waiting for the Mahatma, Indian Thought Publications, Mysore. All parenthetical page references are to this
edition.