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Netaji's Vision - a great India - Part 1

Written to his mother as a teenager - This provides a glimpse of how great the person was and what was the extent of his love for India. This puts him on a pedestal far taller than any other contemporary freedom fighter, even Nehru, whose Discovery of India was merely an intellectual exercise, devoid of any real love for India and her culture.

(Translation mine) Dear Mother, India is dearer to God than anything else. God has been reborn umpteen times in this great continent as a great teacher of mankind and purified the earth. God has planted the seed of truth and virtue in the heart of every Indian. His power may have been born in other countries, but He has never taken birth so many times elsewhere as He has done in India. See, Mother, you can get anything that you want in India - scorching summer, cold winter, torrential rain, and even enchanting autumn and spring. In the Southern part, the pure Godavari flows towards the ocean. Seeing it, we remember Pancavati of Ramayana. I see in my mind's eye the trio of Rama, Lakshmana, and Seeta, who renounced all worldly pleasures of kingdom wealth, and family to spend time on the banks of Godavari in eternal peace and joy. They are fortunate as they do not have to spend their time in worldly affairs while we are burning daily in the great fire of Samsara. Where is that joy? Where is peace?

Devoid of God, we have no peace. When we look up, we see another beautiful scene, the ever pure and blissful Ganga flowing eternally. we remember another scene from Ramayana - the holy Tapovana of Valmiki, sanctified with the chanting of Vedas. I see the old great sage sitting on his asana of deer skin, teaching the two young disciples, Lava, and Kusha. Even serpents are listening quietly to the holy teachings, devoid of their poisoned fangs. A deer is lying nearby, looking at the blissful face of the Maharshi. In Ramayana, everything is so pure, even the description of a blade of grass. But alas, we have left that purity by renouncing our dharma. The Yogis are sitting on the banks of the Ganga, some of them immersed in contemplation, others worshipping the images of their personal Gods with flowers and scents, still others are chanting holy scriptures. Some of them are singing devotional songs and picking up flowers for worship.

Everything is so pure. But Mother, where are those pure Rishis now? Where are their worship and sacrifices gone? My heart bleeds to think of the loss. We have no dharma left, not even national life. We are a weak slave race devoid of virtue and religion. Oh my God, won't you deliver us from this terrible condition? See how your dear India suffers! Where is the sanatana dharma that your avatars tried establishing? The civilization and the culture that our ancestors established, that glory is gone; imagine the magnitude of the loss.

Where is the all renouncing son of this great country who can deliver her? Is my mother Nation so unfortunate not to have such a son?

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The question may sound strange, and the readers may also have serious doubt about my sanity. But the idea came up from a comment by Swami Vivekananda's friend and a great figure of the nineteenth cent