My Mind is Without Fear

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high Where knowledge is free, Where the world has not been broken up into fragments By narrow domestic walls. Where words come out from the depth of truth, Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection. Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way Into the dreary desert sand of dead habitWhere the mind is led forward by thee Into ever-widening thought and action, Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

(Gurudev) Rabindra Nath Tagore. Nobel Laureate.

When I was studying at Delhi Public School at Mathura Road in New Delhi, (at that time that was the only DPS, as I am talking of 1961 and I was 4 years old), we had a Principal by the name of Mr. Din Dayal. He was a six footer with a mind as sharp as a knife and a cane as long as could be. He ran a tight and disciplined ship. No b***sh*t allowed. If you come late by 2 minutes to school, you will feel the sting of the cane on your small palms.

The grandson of our then President Dr. Zakir Hussein, Salman Khurshid , (later the foreign minister of India and now Corporate Affairs Minister) was the Head Boy. He took pleasure in telling us that our nails were not trimmed proper, or our shoe laces were not tied neatly, and a small insult would follow. But he was always decent if not perfect (since the Prefects were under him). I guess he left the dirty work for them. But I do remember him fondly.

The only consolation from the daily tortures that we went through (of strict and uncompromising madams who taught us) was a chat with my good friend, Alberuni Kidwai, who happened to be another grandson of Dr. Zakir Hussein. He was my classmate, friend and a good one at that. Humble to the extent that was unbelievable. We used to come to school in the same bus (I 31), he from Jamia Milia Islamia University and I from Defence Colony. I truly miss him and hope that one day I will be able to meet him again.

Every day we had an assembly and every day of the week we had a different prayer. Naturally, Mr. Din Dayal would lead. Black gown and all in place. The one prayer that I remember most is the one that I have mentioned above. From Rabindra Nath Tagore.

In the days when you are 4 years old, these words make no sense to you. Now, at this age of mine, they do make sense and I am happy that I am a part of “my country”. I also understand "my father", better.

I have retained my Indian citizenship for whatever it is worth, I have retained Indian citizenship for my children. It gives us an identity. We did not chose to be born in a particular country or race, but it gives us a responsibility to do the best we can for our stock.

I have done most of my work in and with India and have tried to do as well as I could for myself as well as for India. This is for my personal satisfaction. So be it !

My mind is without fear and my head is held high……..My father …lead me where you want to…….thought and action is my responsibility.......The rest, I leave to you...