A Centenary Tribute

Amal Kiran-Reminiscences-Shyam Sunder Jhunjihunwala

Shyam Sunder Jhunjhunwala

When you are asked to write about someone you know personally, you usually go down memory lane to your first encounter with him. So do I when I sit to write about Amal Kiran who is going to step into his 100th year soon. The first encounter, in the middle of the last century, was a bit funny though.

I went to Bombay a few times in those years in connection with a litigation between my father and Raja Narayanlal Bansilal Pittic and once I wanted to consult a specialist in company law there. My friend and well-wisher Keshavdeo R. Poddar (later named Navajata by the Mother), who was still in Bombay involved in business, advised me to see one Mr. Sethna who was well known to him and an appointment was made by him.

At the appointed hour I reached the place and the door was opened by Mr. Sethna who knew Keshavdeo Poddar very well but was innocent of company law nor was any appointment made with him for me. Soon we came to the conclusion that there was a comedy of error on the part of Keshavdeo. He had given me the address of another Sethna, viz. K.D. Sethna, i.e. our Amal Kiran.

I was feeling quite awkward in a delicate situation, intruding on the privacy and precious time of a genius, al-most a quarter century elder to me. But he was gentlemanly and polite and did not show any sign of displeasure at all. He must have been amused at the absent-mindedness of a common friend. I was in a hurry to leave for the unfinished work and we just exchanged a few words on Pondicherry, our common base, before parting.

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This chance acquaintance emboldened me later to write an article for Mother India edited by him and on its acceptance I felt encouraged to write occasionally. Once I felt that my articles were mostly quotes from Sri Aurobindo and the Mother with my short sentences serving as connecting links or notes and I went to him (we both were at Pondicherry then) and placed this limitation of mine before him for his advice. He at once said, "Go on. Framing is also an art."

His editorials in Mother India were eye-openers for me in respect of current affairs, I having been brought up in the Gandhian Congress club in my early days. His writings, I believe, did shake up many others, and led readers to a deeper understanding of India and the world. No wonder for he was getting direct guidance from Sri Aurobindo who had spoken of that journal as 'my paper'.

Amal Kiran sees things clearly - he is a 'clear ray' in Sri Aurobindo's words - and he has an incisive logic when it comes to its exposition in intellectual terms and he has the correct words to tear the opponent to pieces with love. With love, for he is tolerant and gives the others the right to continue to hold a different view.

Amal Kiran is also clear about the Work of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother. Some years ago there was a question about the status of the Mind of Light that had got realised in the Mother when Sri Aurobindo left his body. I had got confused on reading a viewpoint about it and thought of asking Amal about it. In those days he used to sit in the evening on the seaside with some friends. I was told that he had been often saying, T do not remember'. But I took a chance during my evening walk and asked him about this serious matter. His entourage also got curious. It took him only some moments to recollect that he had asked the Mother about it and she had said that the physical mind receiving the supramental light was called by Sri Aurobindo the Mind of Light. This answer dispelled my confusion. Back home, after dinner, I tried to locate the answer in the Mother's writ-

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ings and I could locate it quickly in some minutes. Amal had quoted correctly word for word from her answer of 1953.

Amal is a polymath. Here I have referred to but a part of him, but before closing I would give another glimpse of him. That also is from some years ago. He was admitted to the Ashram Nursing Home after one of his repeat performances of falling down and fracturing his leg. I was sad to see his leg put in traction and his body lying in a fixed state. I was surprisingly glad to hear him speaking to me in his usual cheerful voice, the morning sunlight peeping into the room and falling on him. I had gone to see a patient known as a Literary Colossus, but met a Yogi with a song on his lips, lovingly blessed and guided by Sri Aurobindo and the Mother on the path.

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