Madhu Dandavate — two inches of foam that he gifted Indians and the letters he wrote

A physicist first and a politician later, Madhu Dandavate did not hold back from speaking truth to power. On his 96th birth anniversary, a look back at his legacy.

Madhu Dandavate | http://nrmindia.com

“I am quite conscious of the consequences of this letter. I can well imagine that through this communication, I am likely to incur your wrath and get my detention prolonged. However, I feel least worried about it. I will remain completely undeterred even if the prison yard from which I write this letter were to become my graveyard,” wrote Madhu Dandavate in a letter dated 14 January 1976 to Prime Minister Indira Gandhi during Emergency.

A physicist first and a politician later, Madhu Dandavate did not hold back from speaking truth to power. The above excerpt is from a letter he wrote to Indira Gandhi when he along with Mrinal Gore, a fellow veteran socialist leader, was imprisoned. Upon hearing about the ‘inhuman conditions’ Gore was in and the “mental and physical torture” meted out to her, Dandavate called out Gandhi. Mentioning the robust International Women’s Day celebrations, it almost seemed as though the government’s treatment of Gore was an alternate reality.

He signed off with a declaration of his undying will to fight: “Rest assured that in this land of Mahatma Gandhi, my will to fight for freedom will ever remain more powerful than the engine of repression that seeks to suppress it.”

Madhu Dandavate’s integrity was the kind that spawned legends. Before setting foot into politics, he worked as a physicist and headed the physics department in Mumbai’s Siddhartha College of Arts and Sciences. Having been part of the Quit India movement in 1942, led the passive resistance Goa campaign in 1955, been a key opposition to Indira and Rajiv Gandhi, and even jailed during Emergency, the activist from Ahmednagar had seen India in all its pre- and post-1947 shades.

On his 96th birth anniversary, ThePrint looks back at his legacy.

Wore many hats

A five-time Lok Sabha MP (from 1971 to 1990) from Rajapur in Konkan, Maharashtra, minister of railways during Morarji Desai’s tenure, and the finance minister in V.P. Singh’s cabinet, Dandavate wore many hats. But he is fondly remembered by many as the railway minister who provided the daily public with two inches of foam that changed their train travel experience.

Historian Ramachandra Guha writes, “In the long history of Cabinet Government in India, perhaps only a handful of Ministers shall be remembered for having carried out programmes that radically reshaped the lives of their people. In this very short list also appears the name of Madhu Dandavate.”

Until 1977, the first class of the Indian Railways had padded, comfortable berths while the second-class berths were akin to wooden planks. Upon becoming the railway minister, Dandavate initiated the process of adding two inches of foam to these berths. He had said, “What I want to do is not degrade the first class, but elevate the second class.”

By the 1980s, all the trains in the Indian Railways had been upgraded. Not only this, Dandavate is also the one responsible for computerising railways reservations and consequently, reducing corruption.

It was this humane step that put him at par on Guha’s list with former home minister Vallabhai Patel for integrating the princely states, and former finance minister Manmohan Singh for dismantling the licence-permit-quota-raj.

Recalling the first and only time Guha ever met Dandavate, at the Delhi airport, he writes, “I saw N. T. Rama Rao and N. D. Tewari come and go, each met by a set of grovelling minions. Then came Dandavate, who was met by no one. He had simply picked up his suitcase from the belt and walked out with it.” Dandavate’s humble nature and his candor earned him the respect of many.

Dandavate’s letters

In his many stints in prison, Dandavate penned numerous letters. While the one addressed to Indira Gandhi reflected a side of his that stood up for the truth and was fearless to go against the establishment, there was another side to him. He was a man of love, and as fate would have it, Dandavate and his wife — Pramile, also a socialist activist — were imprisoned at the same time but lodged separately. With Madhu in Bangalore Central Jail and Pramila in Yerawada Central Jail, this was the first time the two were apart for 18 months since their marriage in 1953.

In the 200 letters between them, they shared discussing “music and books, poetry and philosophy, they sought to tackle the central riddle of modern life: Is love possible without freedom?”

The Emergency, a clear villain in their love story, had made the two contemplate on their years together. In a letter, Pramila even pointed out how it took such a drastic event for them to finally start writing to each other. She fondly remembered the days when Dandavate would be on long tours and she wouldn’t hear from him for days on end.

“I would feel so embarrassed when someone asked about you. I would have nothing to tell them. But now look at us! You write to me every Monday without fail. Thanks to the Emergency,” she wrote. The two also discussed their son’s future.

The Emergency is remembered for many things such as the death of democracy, a loss of civil rights, restrictions on freedom of speech and whatnot. But it is love like this that also deserves its due mention, a love that not only endured but in fact flourished during Indira Gandhi’s Emergency.

Academician Gyan Prakash has included these letters in his book Emergency Chronicles: Indira Gandhi and Democracy’s Turning Point. He writes, “The letters register the pain of separation as well as how they worked through it to reaffirm their emotional bond by restating their commitment to freedom… They loved each other because they loved freedom. Their love also enriched and extended the meaning of freedom.”