Amidst this vexing pandemic, most of us have deliberately locked ourselves indoors, and othershave to face fear and restrictions to move around. Good news has become ararity. But before I divulge what to me is a piece of excellent news, it reallymakes me feel proud and happy that decades of wrongdoing have been finallycorrected.

The man who taught us pathology and histology in the third year of medical school, was four and a half feet tall and extremely obese. Given his lack of a neck and oval dimension, he was also secretly, though fondly, calledByang, meaning frog in Bengali! So, if you saw this person, afrog would indeed be the first impression that would come to mind! But he was anastounding teacher, and thats all that mattered.

He was a very well-trained craftsman who could read histological slides with an adeptness that would put modern-day technology to shame. For the uninitiated, slides are two small glass panes between whichbiopsied tissues or blood are placed. One needs years of training to examinethe patterns created therein to delineate and thus confirm a diagnosis of different diseases, including cancer.

As a young man, this Professor was in the British army, during the second world war. He told us a fascinating story once. British soldiers captured a place nearSingapore. His ship landed around a few hundred yards from the shore, andtroops embarked. Since he was a beloved but a very short doctor, hugetall Norwegian nurses almost carried him to the beach after treading throughwhat would be neck-deep water for these six feet tall gentlemen.

One evening he visited the Ramkrishna Vedanta Mission in Singapore. He sat in front of the large picture of the trio placed on a raised podium- Swami Vivekananda, Sri Ramkrishna,and Sarada Maa. Engulfed in reverence, he suddenly realized it was almost an hour that he was sitting there. Then, through the corner of his eyes, he saw a gentleman in an orange robe standing at an angle. As he turned his head, he saw a tall, handsomesanyasi probably in his sixties standing there and smiling at him!

Are you fromIndia? the sanyasi asked, smiling.

Yes,

retorted the Professor, from Bengal, Sir.

I thought so, said the sanyasi coming closer as the Professor stood up and bowed tohim, touching his feet!

Exactly a couple of weeks before, Netaji Subhas had come, and he was sitting here in the samespot as you and was crying, the sanyasi said.

Crying, questioned the Professor, But why?

I do not know, but I asked him what he wanted from God? quipped the sanyasi.

I asked Swami Vivekananda to give me strength so that I can free my motherland. I have failed till now, Netaji told him!

The establishment of Netajis statue at the India Gate marks India paying homage to that son of the soil whosesacrifice to the motherland was inimitable! What was extremely sad was thatuncouth politics and nasty favoritism deluded him to the honor that was hisdestiny since independence.

The man who every Indian, including the present generation, irrespective of caste, creed, and religion, holds in the highest esteem, amongst all freedom fighters certainly deserves this.

Unfortunately, even today, others remain to be relegated to such a status. Let us take Surya Sen,who bravely led the Chittagong armory attack, or, Pritilata Waddedar, who was inspired by him and sacrificed her life for this country at the age of 21. Both were horribly tortured and finally hanged by the British!

Knowingly or unknowingly, weve been celebrating the wrong ones. While the likes of Rash Behari Bose and Rishi Aurobindo were kept in abeyance, a mammoth-sized statue of one of Russias oligarch stands in the most prominent Kolkata square called Esplanade. Where are the names of freedom fighters banished to the Andamans to serve Kala Pani for their audacity to challenge the British empire? Inmates likeFazl-e-Haq Khairabadi,Yogendra Shukla,Sachindra Nath Sanyal,Bhai Parmanand,Sohan Singh,Subodh Roy, andTrailokyanath Chakravartywere tortured, beaten, starved, and some finally hanged!

So why are their names not in the history books? Why are stadiums, roads, airports, and popular government schemes not named after them rather than political juggernauts whose claim to fame is either belonging to elitist dispositions by either birth or craftiness? An article like this can be a reminder to my readers to stand up to their legacy and honor the past that has granted them the freedom they enjoy. Otherwise, it will end up being just another epilogue to our unsung heroes who would remain hidden until time takes its toil to reveal the reality.

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Views expressed above are the author's own.

Original post:
When Netaji cried to Swami Vivekananda! - The Times of India Blog