Learning about the Mahatma

Visiting Mumbai for the World Cup has a touch of magic about it. It is a city steeped in socio-political, cultural and, of course, cricketing history, making it an enticing melting pot for me.

The day after I arrive in Mumbai, my friend and former colleague Abhishek Purohit suggests a visit to Mani Bhavan, which is a museum dedicated to Mahatma Gandhi. He lived in this very building for 17 years, starting from 1917. I'm very much up for this, so, after a cup of tea at the Stadium Restaurant opposite the Brabourne Stadium, we take a train from Churchgate. On my previous Mumbai visit, we took a train from CST to Ghatkopar one weekday evening. Just for kicks. The crowded train proved to be a physical challenge, but this time, Abhishek assures me, it is going to be mostly empty. We hop off at Grant Road, and walk to the museum in ten minutes.

At first look, Mani Bhavan can pass off as any of the legacy buildings in Mumbai. It is a city that has plenty of restored buildings, including gothic structures and art-deco buildings. We walk through the small reception area and into a big library. We pass a bust of the Mahatma and go upstairs to a gallery that has photos going all the way back to his childhood. I stop to study press clippings from the time of his assassination.

The museum really comes to life on the second floor. It features the room where Gandhi lived, two spinning wheels, a pair of his sandals, and a hand-fan all on display. Behind that is a famous balcony that features in several photos, Gandhi leaning over the balcony to meet and greet visitors during his time here.

I also stop to examine letters that Gandhi exchanged with Rabindranath Tagore, and the letters he wrote to Adolf Hitler and Franklin Roosevelt. The letters are inspiring for sure, but I also end up marvelling the handwriting.

As we wrap up and head out, I can't help looking back at the building a few times, particularly at that balcony, where Gandhi stood more than a century ago. For a fleeting moment, I am transported to being one of his many admirers, standing under that balcony, looking up at him... What days those must have been.