My Gandhian Dilemma

Being an Indian, Gandhi was introduced to me at a very young age.


Gandhi: the Father of our Nation


As a boy, I wondered what this man must have done to deserve that title. The textbooks, the stories, the faces on every note from ₹2 to ₹2000 — they all said the same thing: he fought the British and brought us independence. So, in the literal sense, I left him in my mind as a hero who fought for us.


Later, I came to know about his methods—Satyagraha. At first, it felt completely alien to me. Counterintuitive. I tried to understand it, even to practice it in my own small ways, and failed miserably. I had no patience, no consistency. So I began to hate him. Such a useless fellow, I thought. Maybe independence was even delayed because of this man.


When I read about Bhagat Singh and Subhas Chandra Bose, and how Gandhi could have possibly saved Bhagat Singh but didn’t, my hatred grew stronger.


Years later, when I went to Europe for higher studies, I was surprised by the reverence Europeans held for Gandhi. I had to nod along out of national loyalty, but inside I still carried my private dislike.


Then, in my early twenties, I realized I couldn’t just hate a man without understanding him. I picked up his autobiography, My Experiments with Truth. I began the book with doubt, and I ended it with doubt. How could a man make such resolute choices and never once pick violence as his weapon? Was he for real? Did he really mean all that he wrote? A part of me suspected the book was more propaganda than confession. But I noticed something: the hate in me had melted. It wasn’t there anymore.


Through his writings I discovered his admiration for Tolstoy, especially The Kingdom of God is Within You. I read it, and admired it deeply. Then I found his connection to the suffragettes, and how he learned from their struggle. My admiration began to grow—not just for Gandhi, but for how he absorbed and transformed ideas into something larger.


What struck me even more was the contrast with other freedom struggles. Globally, almost every leader of a movement ended up as president, prime minister, or ruler—Castro, Mao, so many others. Gandhi never held an official position, yet the entire nation seemed to orbit around him. My admiration rose higher.


About five years ago, I visited Sabarmati Ashram. That visit broke the last of my doubts. To see the humble space where he lived, and to imagine a man from such simplicity attracting the masses long before the information age—purely through belief, conviction, and presence—it overwhelmed me.


Today, I can say I love his ideals and his approach. Am I following them? Not fully. They are hard, maybe harder now than ever. But I can hold my hands in respect and bow to a man who, whether I loved him, hated him, doubted him, or admired him, remains one of the greatest figures our country has ever seen.


Created by: Sudharsan Pandiyan

Edited by: ChatGPT





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