The day the heavens kissed our earth

I do not remember when and from whom I heard about the idea of Auroville, but it appeared to me natural, almost inevitable, in the context of The Mother’s Dream of a place where people could lead a life according to the dictates of the highest and also her warning that it had become imperative for men, countries and continents to choose between Truth or the Abyss.

That was a time when nobody in the Ashram cared about who sponsored a project. If it was The Mother’s wish or had her sanction, one must work towards its fruition according to one’s capacity. At Navajata-ji’s bidding, I used to join the team, after my classes, to survey the proposed site. JIPMER did not exist even in its blueprint. But I heard that the surveyors had been advised to exclude that area from their exploration, for The Mother had foreseen some useful institution would come up there. I do not know whether the rumour was apocryphal or true.

Fifty years ago Pondicherry was a much smaller town, surrounded by agricultural lands, large patches of water and numerous small canyons amidst red earth and acres of grass and bushes. We surveyed the lands on both sides of the old narrow road heading towards Tindivanam. A superstition prevailed that nothing purposeful could flourish on those wastelands. But things changed rapidly and by January 1968 one could feel a throbbing new life pervading the air.

From mid-1964 I used to visit Chennai (then Madras) once a month to give a talk to a small but regular audience on a Sunday morning. The group included Shri J. Dayanand, a senior executive in the Forest Department and Smt. Anjani Dayanand, IAS. We became friends and the unassuming bright couple became my regular kind hosts for month after month. In 1967, Anjani-ji became Secretary to the Pondicherry Administration and became its Chief Secretary before long. Shri Dayanand resigned his job and came over to serve The Mother. Both of them took great interest in the project.

One day, Anjani-ji informed me that the Mother would like me to take up the task of arranging for the news coverage of the event. I knew well that the Mother did not give importance to any publicity. But this was a necessity.

During the 2nd week of February 1968, I camped at the vacant MLAs’ hostel in Chennai for about five days. My invaluable helper was a young and energetic government employee, Shri Varadharajan, an unfailing member of the aforesaid monthly group and an ardent devotee of The Mother. (He joined Auroville afterwards.) He took leave from his office and together we met the editors or the management of all the newspapers, English and Tamil, as well as the All India Radio. We visited the local offices of all the Delhi, Mumbai (then Bombay) and Kolkata (then Calcutta) based major newspapers and also the News Agencies.

While some of the journalists felt inspired at the prospect of covering an event that was off the beaten track, some were curious or a bit skeptical. I was a contributor to several English newspapers and magazines and this facilitated our mission. Shri N.S. Ramaswamy, a senior Assistant Editor of The Indian Express was a scholar and he used to appreciate my articles. But he was a reluctant traveler, at least then. However, I had a feeling that he would understand the vision behind the adventure better than many others. He agreed to comply with my request if his boss agreed. The chief of the editorial management of the Express was an elderly gentleman, kind and courteous, popularly known as Master-ji. I requested him to depute Shri N.S. Ramaswamy for the event. “Ramaswamy is excellent at covering Sports events, not events of this nature!” said Master-ji. “But, Sir,” I asked, “how many events of this nature have taken place?” Master-ji laughed sweetly and agreed to my request.

Ramaswamy came by car with Shri Amal Ghose, Chennai Bureau-in-charge of The Amrita Bazar Patrika of Kolkata who was a poet. Because Ramaswamy travelled by car, he wrote the report of the event on his return journey and his Auroville – A “World City” is Born was the main item on the front page of the Express released at midnight of February 29th, 1968. We reproduced it in Mother India of March 1968. Once again it has been published in the January 2018 issue of the magazine for the current celebrations.

Most of the other journalists started from Chennai in a comfortable bus leaving an appointed spot near Hotel Connemara at about 2 A.M., led by Varadharajan. I received them at the site. Adequate arrangements had been made for them to freshen up and volunteers were ready to treat them to breakfast. Those who wished to return to Chennai immediately after the event were presented with packets of lunch. Others were entertained at the Society House, along with D. Malcolm Adiseshiah, the Dy. Director General of the UNESCO, Dr. Salah-el Bin Tewfic, the UNESCO Chief of Mission in India, Shri B.D. Jatti, the Lt. Governor of Pondicherry, Shri R.K. Talwar, Chairman of the State Bank of India, among others. Navajata-ji performed his role as the host with dignity and humility. We also arranged for the accommodation of the journalists who had arrived a day earlier from Kolkata and other cities, and I had to answer varieties of their queries.

I do not intend to describe the main event here. It was as if a chunk of some celestial world had descended on our tired earth and had unexpectedly transformed its mood into that of a grand expectation and assurance. Thousands of people from the nearby areas had collected, apart from hundreds who had arrived from different parts of India and abroad. A pregnant silence prevailed well before The Mother’s voice was to enliven the atmosphere in a live broadcast from her room in the Ashram. I heard that the engineer who was directing that most important operation was nervous and The Mother calmed him down with her Blessings. In fact I think all concerned were nervous. The only one who was calm and confident was The Mother. Even though all the problems, major or insignificant, were heaped on Her with abandon, She had time, patience and compassion.

Throughout the event not a leaf stirred. Sunil’s serene music and the mantric words uttered by those entrusted with the task by The Mother, enhanced the magic of that hitherto unknown silence – a silence that could cast a spell over multitudes.

The coverage of the event by the Tamil and Hindi press was quite satisfactory and some of the articles were very good. But Ramaswamy’s charming narrative excelled all.