Rajiv Gandhi
on a Forest Trail
This article
also found a place in the book “The Story Behind the News”, edited by then
editor of Andhra Jyothi K. Ramachandra
Murthy and Katta Shekhar Reddy, later became Information Commissioner in
Telangana Government. When I think of
the effort Shekhar Reddy garu put in to make a lazybones like me write those
few pages, I feel embarrassed.
This is the
piece that Shekhar Reddy garu persistently made me write:
Rajiv Gandhi
on a Forest Trail
Floods in
the Godavari are nothing unusual. But a Prime Minister personally coming to
inspect flood damage certainly was. That is why all arrangements were made with
meticulous care. Besides, those were the days when the first non-Congress
government in the state, under the leadership of N. T. Rama Rao, was in power.
Rajiv Gandhi
received a grand welcome upon reaching Bhadrachalam by helicopter. NTR, in any
case, was always very particular about such matters.
The Prime
Minister’s convoy then set out by road to inspect the flood-affected areas.
Along with the Prime Minister were Chief Minister Rama Rao garu, former Chief
Minister and then Union Minister Jalagam Vengala Rao, officials, and several
others. In those days, radio correspondents enjoyed a certain degree of
importance, so even I, who had travelled from Hyderabad, was allotted a jeep in
the Prime Minister’s convoy. Unlike today, there were no dozens of television
channels then. Carrying a tape recorder, one could freely move alongside VIPs.
The official
plan was to travel by road from Bhadrachalam to Chintoor and return. On the
way, Rajiv Gandhi stopped at many places, got down from his vehicle, and walked
through fields buried under sand deposits, speaking directly with farmers and
labourers. Congress leader V. Hanumantha Rao, now Adviser to Telangana
Government on BC welfare, acted as an
interpreter between the people and the Prime Minister.
Repeatedly
halting the convoy, walking long distances, and interacting with locals caused
no fatigue whatsoever to the young Rajiv Gandhi. But the other leaders
accompanying him struggled greatly to keep pace with him under the blazing sun,
trudging across uneven fields and embankments.
While the
tour was proceeding in this manner, it suddenly took an unexpected turn.
Just as we
were nearing Chintoor, Rajiv Gandhi ordered the convoy to stop near a bend in
the road. To the left of the bend was a narrow path leading down into the
forest.
Rajiv Gandhi
stepped out of his car, pulled out a map from his pocket, studied it carefully,
and started walking along the forest trail. Immediately behind him followed
Rama Rao garu, Vengala Rao garu, one or two security officers, myself, and
Surender — a newspaper correspondent, from Hyderabad like me, who later became
Chairman of the Press Academy, now holding a post of member BC commission. The
police and other officials, who had already noticed Rajiv Gandhi’s habit of
suddenly leaving the road and wandering through fields, stayed back on the road
itself.
After
walking some distance through the forest path, Rajiv Gandhi looked at the map
once again and asked, “There should be a village nearby, shouldn’t there?”
Even Vengala
Rao garu, who knew every nook and corner of Khammam district, seemed unfamiliar
with the village he mentioned.
“Come on,
let us go,” Rajiv said and moved ahead.
The battered
jeep assigned to me was nearby. The moment the driver spotted us, he quickly
started the vehicle and brought it close. Rajiv Gandhi immediately climbed into
the jeep while still studying the map. Rama Rao garu, Vengala Rao garu, the
security personnel, all got in as well. Surender and I ran and somehow squeezed
ourselves onto the rear footboard despite the security men trying to stop us.
The jeep
moved on.
Rajiv Gandhi
sat in the front seat beside the driver; behind him sat Vengala Rao garu. Rama
Rao garu, security personnel, Surender, and I somehow crammed ourselves into
that tiny jeep. When I think about it now, it amazes me how all of us managed
to fit inside.
There is
another point worth mentioning here. Before entering politics, Rajiv Gandhi had
worked as an airline pilot. Flying aircraft thousands of feet above the ground,
identifying destinations with the help of radar, and landing accurately on
runways whether in broad daylight or deep at night — all this had given him
remarkable navigational skill. It was perhaps that very experience which
enabled him to identify remote villages in the forests near Bhadrachalam merely
by looking at a map.
The old
tarpaulin strips hanging from the jeep flapped noisily in the forest wind.
Branches of tall trees brushed against one another with eerie sounds. In those
days, people used to say that sympathisers of Naxalites conveyed signals by
striking tree branches together to alert them about the arrival of strangers in
the forest.
Even though
travelling through forests known for Naxalite activity was hardly safe, Rajiv
Gandhi signalled to the driver to continue forward.
What
astonished us most was the jeep driver himself. Despite knowing that the person
seated beside him giving directions was none other than the Prime Minister of
India, he showed no nervousness whatsoever. Calm and composed, he drove like a
well-trained soldier.
Just as
Rajiv Gandhi had expected, the small tribal hamlet of Lambadagudem appeared
nearby. But when we reached it, there were hardly even ten huts in the
settlement.
Without any
airs or formality, Rajiv Gandhi entered a tiny thatched hut and enquired about
the condition of the poor family living there. He lifted the lid off a pot
placed on a three-stone stove in one corner, checked the rice inside with his
fingers, gently placed his hand on the poor woman’s shoulder, and assured her
that the government was there to help.
Whether she
even realized that the guest who had come to her hut in the middle of that
afternoon was the Prime Minister of the country, I do not know.
Had such an
incident occurred in today’s age of nonstop publicity, one can only imagine the
attention it would have received.
Afterwards,
as usual, Rajiv Gandhi once again relied on his map and successfully guided all
of us back to where we needed to reach.
And then
came another story altogether — how, after accompanying a Prime Minister, a
Chief Minister, and a former Chief Minister through the forests of Khammam
district, I managed to return to Bhadrachalam by dawn the next day, my clothes
caked with mud, so that I could broadcast the entire episode to the outside
world in the morning radio news bulletin.
(On the
death anniversary of Rajiv Gandhi)
