Mahamed Ali Jinnah, founding father of Pakistan and responsible,although not solely for the partition of the undivided India, has engineered posthumously yet another break-up.

This time he's pushed the Bharatiya Janata Party into a partition mode. Jaswant Singh, a veteran BJP leader & one of the recent converts to the rebels camp,- the only one to be pampered with prestigious chairmanship of Parliament's Public Accoung Commitee (PAC) even after his rebellion, has added fuel to the dying ambers of Jinnah controversy that nearly burnt L K Advani's political career.

This time Jaswant has revisited partition history and Jinnah's 'innocent' role in it in his latest book. Not without disastarous consequences,though.

For a national party like the BJP what caught everyone by surprise was the incredible speed with which it stepped. This is especially more remarkable after a killing Lok Sabha polls.The party telephonically booted out Jaswant.

As he got bounced from the the party, Jaswant ruefully pondered over what he got as a reward for after serving it for more than 3 decades. His appreciation of Jinnah servedas the proverbial last straw), there was more in store for the Rajasthan leader. His book has been banned by the Gujarat Chief Minister Nanrendra Modi who thinks of himself as the self-appointed custodian of the image of Sardar Patel. The State Government claimed Singh's book tarnishes the image of the original Sardar of India. How could Modi and Advani half-mockingly hailed by many as the chhote sardars" tolerate a publication finding fault with the Iron Man of India.

Time: Summer,1930.Place:Dhandhuka.Scene:The court room,with nearly two thousand people milling around outside.

A big-eyed, moustachioed man in his thirties, impressively dressed in a typical Kathiawadi attire, complete with a turban, had just heard Judge Isani hand him down a sentence for two years,  for trying to undermine the British Empire.It was for a speech he had never made in the nearby Barwala. But, the police wanted to imprison him badly in those days of the salt satyagrah.

In his rich voice, the man started singing a self-composed nationalist song,so poignantly that it seemed to carry the burden of the sufferings of millions of his enslaved countrymen:

Nathi Janyun Amare Panth Shi Afat Khadi Chhe,

Khabar Chhe Etli Ke Maatni Hakal Padi Chhe.

(What obstacles are on the way,I do not know,

All I know is that the Motherland calls me,and I must go.)

A hush fell over the court premises.When he finished,tears welled up in  hundreds of eyes,including the judge's.It was something that depicted the mood of India at that time,when it was impossible to predict when the sun will set on the mighty Empire.Nobody knew if the freedom struggle would lead to independence,or when,and yet none was bothered.They seemed responding to the inner call.

There is bit of an uncertainty about the exact date and year of the birth of Jhaverchand Meghani.Among the different dates,two are prominently mentioned--August 17,1897 and August 28,1896.

Two of the poet's sons,Jayant and Vinod,have gone on record to throw their weight behind the second date as Jhaverchand's real birth date-- August 28,1896.

They said that among the factors that led them to believe this date was the date given by their grandfather,Kalidas ,when Jhaverchand was admitted to the Sadar Taluka school in Rajkot in November,1901.He gave this date a his son's birth date.The two sons have quoted several other similar notings to support their be-lief.

The confusion appears to have cropped up first in 1947,when Jhaverchand died.A commemoration volume ,Jhaverchand Meghani;Smaranjali,mentioned August 17,1897 as the poet's birthday.It is possible that this was a result of converting the birth date from the day recorded as birthday according to the Vikram Samvat calendar.Shrvan Vad 5,Nag Panchami,was traditionally celebrated as his birthday.But,what year of the Vikram Samvat.If the Vikram Samvat 1952 was taken as correct it would give Au-gust 28,1896 as the birth date,and if it was taken as Vikram Sam-vat 1953,then it would correspond with August 17,1897.

Only a few would be aware today that Independent India's radio broadcasting on August 15,1947, was heralded by a rendering of Bankimchandra Chattopadhyaya's Vande Mataram by Pandit Omkarnath Thakur, music maestro, from the Delhi station of All India Radio (AIR).More so, the little known fact is that the rendering had a Bhavnagari connection. A proud son of Bhavnagar was in the small party that rendered the song that morning.

Pandit Balwantrai, the oldest living disciple of Omkarnath, had accompanied Omkarnath on tanpura. Balwantrai says that Vande Mataram was sung with a unique devotion of heart by Omkarnath in an unusual raag.

Vande Mataram, sung in the classical mode,is still there in the archives of AIR, although in a bit damaged form. Pandit Vishun Digambar Paluskar had originally composed Vande Mataram in raag Bangiya Kaphi.

The more popular version of Vande Mataram that we sing today is in such a simple manner that masses too could sing it easily. However, Omkarnath evolved a special rendering of it with such depth and innovation that it became incomparable and could not even be effectively copied by others. It was so difficult that it was destined to remain beyond the pale of common people.

Nevertheless,it had always been an enchanting and uplifting rendering that it became a classic by itself. Omkarnath had turned down many requests for its rendering by him on numerous occasions. Subhas Chandra Bose wrote to him to sing it at the 1938 Haripura Congress. Omkarnath, who had very strong views on the song, would never agree unless the organisers pledged to have the full version of Vande Mantaram and not an abridged one.

His face averted from the rest of the workers,an old man was digging earth at the drought relief work.The general deportment indicated he must have been a man from a well-placed rural family that had fallen on bad days because of the failure of the monsoon,but that did not prevent him from working like a fury.

As his pick hit the land with gusto,he sang in Gujarati: "Khandaniya Ma Mathan Ram, Zinko Ram Zinko Ram, Dukale Pidhan Lohida Ram" ( We are like the grains being pounded in the mortar.O God, go on pounding us with as much force as you like in this famine which is sucking our blood.)

A visitor who was at the site to distribute buttermilk among the workers was overhearing it,as if petrified by the sorrow and pain the old man,as alsothousands and thousands like him,were suffering,uncomplaining and yet with dignity facing miseries inflicted by the vagaries of the rain God.

"It sort of sent a flashlight through my head",said Upendra Trivedi,noted Gujarati thespian,whose depiction on the celluloid of the terrible famine in Gujarat nearly a hundred years ago,done on paper with great mastery by the late author Pannalal Patel,Manvini Bhavai,had bagged a silver lotus award for a regional film at the 41st national film festival.

(The Editorial Team is happy to bring to the readers a famous song by Late Jhaverchand Meghani,Mor Bani Thangat...,welcoming the onset of the monsoon.Water is life and the rains provide a promise of a better tomorrow. It is a highly acclaimed translation of a song in Bengali by poet Rabindranath Tagore.Meghani himself had watched Gurudev  Tagore sing the original song of his in Bengali in 1920  during the Varsha Mangal festival at his house in Kolkata. It has been translated into several languages including English and Gujarati. . We also bring to you the English translation of the lyric.It is worth noting that Meghani's translation has been highly popular and few know that it is a translation. The input for this has been provided by Mr Jayant Meghani,Bhavnagar).

The Editorial Team has pleasure in bringing to you the English translation of a popular Gujarati story, Chandradah (Moon Burns) written by renowned Gujarati writer,Mr.Rajnikumar Pandya.The rendering in English has been done by Mr Tushar Bhatt,journalist. A scholar and critic, Dr Kishore Jadav has said the story written in the lyrical vein,creaing hypnotic effect by using symbolism of the moon."The story is enveloped by sombre atmosphere, with inherent ironyand controlled narrative. It stands out unmistakably as a brilliant sory.")

The whiff of air brought it with faint sound of a garba song being sung in the distance. The wind carried the sound for a moment and let it die, leaving behind the tentalising sensation, just like the touch of nippy breeze in the winter. Scanning the horizons all around did not reveal much. There was a vast expanse of moonlit meadow, broken here and there by a few trees and an occasional hillock or two.

“Where is the sound of singing coming from ?”

The fingers of both his hands are dancing, as if making - or backing - the point that he is putting across; the eyes, with discernible dark pouches underneath, are sparkling. The voice is loud enough not to need a microphone even in an auditorium, although full of warmth and friendship. The forehead displays the furrows time has made on a face that is otherwise noteworthy because of a largish nose.

But, the owner of these features,Prof.Niranjan Bhagat,poet and teacher,and a human being par excellence, seems to be hardly aware of all the visual impression he is making on his listeners. In fact, it would appear that rest of his body is merely a functional attachment to the extremely lively --and invisible feature -- that ticks under the greying hair combed straight, his mind

Prof.Bhagat has not written more than two or three poems in the past 35 years, and even in the preceding 15 years, his work could perhaps fill 200 pages.Yet, it is the profoundness of his poetry, and not his prolificity, that has made Bhagatsaheb, as he is known to countless students of literature in Gujarat, a pillar of post-Independence Gujarati poetry.

Science in India did not get much projection in the West. Science in China did, thanks to Joseph Needham. A British scientist-turned-science editor, who died in Wales in April, could have, given circumstances, made a contribution because of his great interest in India. He visited India several times and had close contact with some of India’s top scientists. In a blurb that he contributed for a general survey of science and technology in India, he wrote:

“India’s well-wishers have long been puzzled that a literate country that has done all the right things since independence, creating a network of vigorous public research laboratories and driving engineering education to the highest level, should have reaped so little benefit from its investments. L K Sharma’s volume shows that the tide has begun to turn, and why…. The projects and programmes described in it show that there is more to come.

Sir John Maddox, died on April 12 at the age of 83.

He was best known for establishing science journalism in Britain as a very credible and sought-after enterprise. His revival of the journal Nature which was in a bad shape when he took over as editor in 1966 won him numerous admirers in the scientific community as well as the publishing industry. What he did amounted to almost a relaunch of Nature. He introduced a peer review system for articles and developed the Nature-Times News service. After six years of teaching theoretical physics at the University of Manchester, John Maddox switched to journalism as science correspondent of the Manchester Guardian.

His prematurely old face showed no signs of hostility. It did not betray any emotions at all. His voice also discloses anything. He spoke as if he was reading news on the Door Darshan.

The village barber had diffidently asked the visitor if he could take two minutes. He needed no permission because he and the visiting journalist sat on the same bench for three years in the village primary school before the barber dropped out.
But, the income divide creates a wide chasm in society and many people deny friends marooned on the have-not side. The journalist could not but acknowledge the friendship for more than one reason.

The barber’s father was horse-carriage man of a buggy owned by his doctor father. The barber’s mother was the Dai (a class of women who assist pregnant women at the time of delivery and then for days to come look after the infant) who was present at the visitor’s birth.

Yet, the fragile man sought permission to speak. The visitor nodded a wordless yes. The people seem to think that the scribes knew more than what they are telling.

The village barber, wearing a shirt with a torn collar and pyjama displaying loose endings of his customers hair-cut, began his quizzing in a matter-of-fact tone.

Was it true that the visitor had done well in his life? The visitor mumbled non-commitally: Cannot complain.

The villager returned the serve rather quickly. He said: Well, better than he had. The scribe essayed an affirmative, puzzled about the drift of the chat.

There came a query like a good length ball that often makes a batsman lose his wicked.