Why I Killed Gandhi by Nathuram Vinayak Godse- must read


this may be a repeat but read on the occasion of Gandhi Jayanti

 

Subject: WHY I KILLED GANDHI by NATHURAM VINAYAK GODSE

Gandhiji’s assassin, Nathuram Godse’s Final Address to the Court.

WHY I KILLED GANDHI - Nathuram Godse's Final Address to the Court.WHY I KILLED GANDHI – Nathuram Godse’s Final Address to the Court.

Nathuram Godse was arrested immediately after he assassinated Gandhiji, based on a F. I. R. filed by Nandlal Mehta at the Tughlak Road Police staton at Delhi . The trial, which was held in camera, began on May 27, 1948 and concluded on February 10, 1949. He was sentenced to death.

An appeal to the Punjab High Court, then in session at Simla, did not find favour and the sentence was upheld. The statement that you are about to read is the last made by Godse before the Court on the May 5, 1949.

Such was the power and eloquence of this statement that one of the judges, G. D. Khosla, later wrote, “I have, however, no doubt that had the audience of that day been constituted into a jury and entrusted with the task of deciding Godse’s appeal, they would have brought a verdict of ‘not Guilty’ by an overwhelming majority”

WHY I KILLED GANDHI

Born in a devotional Brahmin family, I instinctively came to revere Hindu religion, Hindu history and Hindu culture. I had, therefore, been intensely proud of Hinduism as a whole. As I grew up I developed a tendency to free thinking unfettered by any superstitious allegiance to any isms, political or religious. That is why I worked actively for the eradication of untouchability and the caste system based on birth alone. I openly joined RSS wing of anti-caste movements and maintained that all Hindus were of equal status as to rights, social and religious and should be considered high or low on merit alone and not through the accident of birth in a particular caste or profession.

I used publicly to take part in organized anti-caste dinners in which thousands of Hindus, Brahmins, Kshatriyas, Vaisyas, Chamars and Bhangis participated. We broke the caste rules and dined in the company of each other. I have read the speeches and writings of Ravana, Chanakiya, Dadabhai Naoroji, Vivekanand, Gokhale, Tilak, along with the books of ancient and modern history of India and some prominent countries like England , France , America and Russia . Moreover I studied the tenets of Socialism and Marxism. But above all I studied very closely whatever Veer Savarkar and Gandhiji had written and spoken, as to my mind these two ideologies have contributed more to the moulding of the thought and action of the Indian people during the last thirty years or so, than any other single factor has done.

All this reading and thinking led me to believe it was my first duty to serve Hindudom and Hindus both as a patriot and as a world citizen. To secure the freedom and to safeguard the just interests of some thirty crores (300 million) of Hindus would automatically constitute the freedom and the well-being of all India , one fifth of human race. This conviction led me naturally to devote myself to the Hindu Sanghtanist ideology and programme, which alone, I came to believe, could win and preserve the national independence of Hindustan , my Motherland, and enable her to render true service to humanity as well.

Since the year 1920, that is, after the demise of Lokamanya Tilak, Gandhiji’s influence in the Congress first increased and then became supreme. His activities for public awakening were phenomenal in their intensity and were reinforced by the slogan of truth and non-violence which he paraded ostentatiously before the country. No sensible or enlightened person could object to those slogans. In fact there is nothing new or original in them.. They are implicit in every constitutional public movement. But it is nothing but a mere dream if you imagine that the bulk of mankind is, or can ever become, capable of scrupulous adherence to these lofty principles in its normal life from day to day.

In fact, honour, duty and love of one’s own kith and kin and country might often compel us to disregard non-violence and to use force. I could never conceive that an armed resistance to an aggression is unjust. I would consider it a religious and moral duty to resist and, if possible, to overpower such an enemy by use of force. [In the Ramayana] Rama killed Ravana in a tumultuous fight and relieved Sita.. [In the Mahabharata], Krishna killed Kansa to end his wickedness; and Arjuna had to fight and slay quite a number of his friends and relationsincluding the revered Bhishma because the latter was on the side of the aggressor. It is my firm belief that in dubbing Rama, Krishna and Arjuna as guilty of violence, the Mahatma betrayed a total ignorance of the springs of human action.
In more recent history, it was the heroic fight put up by Chhatrapati Shivaji that first checked and eventually destroyed the Muslim tyranny in India . It was absolutely essentially for Shivaji to overpower and kill an aggressive Afzal Khan, failing which he would have lost his own life. In condemning history’s towering warriors like Shivaji, Rana Pratap and Guru Gobind Singh as misguided patriots, Gandhiji has merely exposed his self-conceit. He was, paradoxical as it may appear, a violent pacifist who brought untold calamities on the country in the name of truth and non-violence, while Rana Pratap, Shivaji and the Guru will remain enshrined in the hearts of their countrymen for ever for the freedom they brought to them.

The accumulating provocation of thirty-two years, culminating in his last pro-Muslim fast, at last goaded me to the conclusion that the existence of Gandhi should be brought to an end immediately. Gandhi had done very good in South Africa to uphold the rights and well-being of the Indian community there. But when he finally returned to India he developed a subjective mentality under which he alone was to be the final judge of what was right or wrong. If the country wanted his leadership, it had to accept his infallibility; if it did not, he would stand aloof from the Congress and carry on his own way.

Against such an attitude there can be no halfway house. Either Congress had to surrender its will to his and had to be content with playing second fiddle to all his eccentricity, whimsicality, metaphysics and primitive vision, or it had to carry on without him. He alone was the Judge of everyone and every thing; he was the master brain guiding the civil disobedience movement; no other could know the technique of that movement. He alone knew when to begin and when to withdraw it. The movement might succeed or fail, it might bring untold disaster and political reverses but that could make no difference to the Mahatma’s infallibility. ‘A Satyagrahi can never fail’ was his formula for declaring his own infallibility and nobody except himself knew what a Satyagrahi is. Thus, the Mahatma became the judge and jury in his own cause. These childish insanities and obstinacies, coupled with a most severe austerity of life, ceaseless work and lofty character made Gandhi formidable and irresistible.

Many people thought that his politics were irrational but they had either to withdraw from the Congress or place their intelligence at his feet to do with as he liked. In a position of such absolute irresponsibility Gandhi was guilty of blunder after blunder, failure after failure, disaster after disaster. Gandhi’s pro-Muslim policy is blatantly in his perverse attitude on the question of the national language of India . It is quite obvious that Hindi has the most prior claim to be accepted as the premier language. In the beginning of his career in India , Gandhi gave a great impetus to Hindi but as he found that the Muslims did not like it, he became a champion of what is called Hindustani.. Everybody in India knows that there is no language called Hindustani; it has no grammar; it has no vocabulary. It is a mere dialect, it is spoken, but not written. It is a bastard tongue and cross-breed between Hindi and Urdu, and not even the Mahatma’s sophistry could make it popular. But in his desire to please the Muslims he insisted that Hindustani alone should be the national language of India . His blind followers, of course, supported him and the so-called hybrid language began to be used. The charm and purity of the Hindi language was to be prostituted to please the Muslims. All his experiments were at the expense of the Hindus.

From August 1946 onwards the private armies of the Muslim League began a massacre of the Hindus. The then Viceroy, Lord Wavell, though distressed at what was happening, would not use his powers under the Government of India Act of 1935 to prevent the rape, murder and arson. The Hindu blood began to flow from Bengal to Karachi with some retaliation by the Hindus. The Interim Government formed in September was sabotaged by its Muslim League members right from its inception, but the more they became disloyal and treasonable to the government of which they were a part, the greater was Gandhi’s infatuation for them. Lord Wavell had to resign as he could not bring about a settlement and he was succeeded by Lord Mountbatten. King Log was followed by King Stork. The Congress which had boasted of its nationalism and socialism secretly accepted Pakistan literally at the point of the bayonet and abjectly surrendered to Jinnah. India was vivisected and one-third of the Indian territory became foreign land to us from August 15, 1947.

Lord Mountbatten came to be described in Congress circles as the greatest Viceroy and Governor-General this country ever had. The official date for handing over power was fixed for June 30, 1948, but Mountbatten with his ruthless surgery gave us a gift of vivisected India ten months in advance. This is what Gandhi had achieved after thirty years of undisputed dictatorship and this is what Congress party calls ‘freedom’ and ‘peaceful transfer of power’. The Hindu-Muslim unity bubble was finally burst and a theocratic state was established with the consent of Nehru and his crowd and they have called ‘freedom won by them with sacrifice’ – whose sacrifice? When top leaders of Congress, with the consent of Gandhi, divided and tore the country – which we consider a deity of worship – my mind was filled with direful anger.

One of the conditions imposed by Gandhi for his breaking of the fast unto death related to the mosques in Delhi occupied by the Hindu refugees. But when Hindus in Pakistan were subjected to violent attacks he did not so much as utter a single word to protest and censure the Pakistan Government or the Muslims concerned. Gandhi was shrewd enough to know that while undertaking a fast unto death, had he imposed for its break some condition on the Muslims in Pakistan , there would have been found hardly any Muslims who could have shown some grief if the fast had ended in his death. It was for this reason that he purposely avoided imposing any condition on the Muslims. He was fully aware of from the experience that Jinnah was not at all perturbed or influenced by his fast and the Muslim League hardly attached any value to the inner voice of Gandhi.

Gandhi is being referred to as the Father of the Nation. But if that is so, he had failed his paternal duty inasmuch as he has acted very treacherously to the nation by his consenting to the partitioning of it. I stoutly maintain that Gandhi has failed in his duty. He has proved to be the Father of Pakistan. His inner-voice, his spiritual power and his doctrine of non-violence of which so much is made of, all crumbled before Jinnah’s iron will and proved to be powerless. Briefly speaking, I thought to myself and foresaw I shall be totally ruined, and the only thing I could expect from the people would be nothing but hatred and that I shall have lost all my honour, even more valuable than my life, if I were to kill Gandhiji. But at the same time I felt that the Indian politics in the absence of Gandhiji would surely be proved practical, able to retaliate, and would be powerful with armed forces. No doubt, my own future would be totally ruined, but the nation would be saved from the inroads of Pakistan . People may even call me and dub me as devoid of any sense or foolish, but the nation would be free to follow the course founded on the reason which I consider to be necessary for sound nation-building.

After having fully considered the question, I took the final decision in the matter, but I did not speak about it to anyone whatsoever. I took courage in both my hands and I did fire the shots at Gandhiji on 30th January 1948, on the prayer-grounds of Birla House. I do say that my shots were fired at the person whose policy and action had brought rack and ruin and destruction to millions of Hindus. There was no legal machinery by which such an offender could be brought to book and for this reason I fired those fatal shots. I bear no ill will towards anyone individually but I do say that I had no respect for the present government owing to their policy which was unfairly favourable towards the Muslims. But at the same time I could clearly see that the policy was entirely due to the presence of Gandhi.

I have to say with great regret that Prime Minister Nehru quite forgets that his preachings and deeds are at times at variances with each other when he talks about India as a secular state in season and out of season, because it is significant to note that Nehru has played a leading role in the establishment of the theocratic state of Pakistan, and his job was made easier by Gandhi’s persistent policy of appeasement towards the Muslims. I now stand before the court to accept the full share of my responsibility for what I have done and the judge would, of course, pass against me such orders of sentence as may be considered proper. But I would like to add that I do not desire any mercy to be shown to me, nor do I wish that anyone else should beg for mercy on my behalf. My confidence about the moral side of my action has not been shaken even by the criticism levelled against it on all sides. I have no doubt that honest writers of history will weigh my act and find the true value thereof some day in future.

 

Modi storm in Delhi, tremors in the country


Modi blows Ananta Vijaya

By Sandhya Jain on September 29, 2013
Modi blows Ananta Vijaya
Narendra Modi today blew the Ananta Vijaya, conch shell of Prince Yudhisthira, to announce his march on Delhi as future ruler, though he promised, with Caesar-like modesty, that he would not be king (main nath nahin hoon, das hoon). Castigating the Prime Minister for weakness in projecting India’s power and dignity abroad, the Congress’ anointed heir for upstart behaviour vis-á-vis the Head of Government, and Indian journalists for pusillanimity before the Pakistan Prime Minister whilst part of the Prime Ministerial delegation to New York, the Gujarat Chief Minister made it clear that nationalism would be non-negotiable under his reign.
At a mammoth, five plus lakh strong, rally organised by the Delhi unit of the Bharatiya Janata Party to launch the party’s campaign for the Assembly election in November, Modi mostly skirted Delhi-centric issues and reserved his fire for the Gandhi family and the political culture it represents. He displayed canny constitutional propriety by supporting the beleaguered Prime Minister against attacks on his person and office, while berating him for weakness.
The Prime Minister recently met the US President in Washington, but instead of showcasing India as a youthful nation and ancient civilisation, he told Barack Obama that India is a poor country. He sounded like film-makers who market India’s poverty abroad and collect awards. Was the Prime Minister talking about poverty which Rahul Gandhi called a “state of mind” or the real poverty of our back lanes, Modi asked.
Claiming the nation fears the outcome of Manmohan Singh’s meeting with the Pakistan Prime Minister, Modi said he was hurt when Nawaz Sharif called Indian and Pakistani journalists for breakfast and called the Indian Prime Minister a “dehati aurat” (village woman) for complaining about terrorism from Pakistani soil (which on September 26 took 12 Indian lives in two incidents at Kathua and Samba in Jammu & Kashmir). India, he thundered, will not tolerate this insult to the nation and the Prime Minister, “whatever our internal differences may be”. Nawaz Sharif could have the temerity to speak like this about Manmohan Singh, who is senior to him even in age, because the Congress vice-president has, in village parlance, “Pradhan Mantri ki pagdi uchaal di hai” (insulted him) and that is a sin (paap).
Modi challenged Indian mediapersons present to explain why they did not walk out when the Prime Minister was thus insulted. A possible reason could be that the Indian media, which the Vajpayee Government hosted at Agra, snuggled up to then President Parvez Musharraf when he made equally outrageous comments about Jammu & Kashmir. Modi has signalled an end to tolerance of such malfeasance by the media.
The BJP’s prime ministerial hopeful said the Indian people sincerely hope Manmohan Singh will show Nawaz Sharif his place and ask when Pakistan-occupied Kashmir will be returned to India, talk about terrorism and the constant killing of our jawans, and particularly try to bring back the severed head of our jawan whose mother and widow are still weeping.
The great dilemma before the nation today is between parivar shahi and lok shahi; the battle is to decide if India will run according to the Constitution (samvidhan) or the whim of the shehzade (Rahul Gandhi). Can the UPA allies answer this question – whom would they like to work under? Modi reminded his audience that when the Supreme Court decision on debarring convicted leaders came, the BJP supported it and made its stand clear at the all party meeting and in the meeting with the President. Disapproving of the manner in which Rahul Gandhi junked his own party-led Government’s Ordinance to save convicted legislators, the Gujarat strongman said that in both the Delhi and the 2014 general elections, it was time to get rid of the Dirty Team and bring in the Dream Team.
If one were to search for the signature theme of Narendra Modi’s Operation Red Fort, it would be “mujhe vishwas hai” (I have confidence), a far cry from the inane mumblings of a leader who thought India was nothing and had to be made something — “humme Bharat ko banana hai” (we have to make India this or that). In less than a decade, he pointed out, India will celebrate 75 years of freedom (Amrut Mahotsav) and we must decide what heights we want to scale by then. The UPA, he charged, has no vision at all, and every successive Budget has hovered around sensex up or down, income tax up or down, import relief, with no grand picture.
Armed as always with statistics to prove his points, Modi said the UPA brags only about achievements made by State Governments, but its own performance is dismal. The Railways in 1980 had 61,000 km tracks and 31 years later only 3,000 km of lines have been added, whereas China in the same period added 11,000 km of railway tracks from a baseline 50,000 km and their speed and quality equals Japan.
The UPA in an affidavit before the Supreme Court admitted that the NDA in six years added 24,000 km of roads to the national highways but UPA in nine years has added only 16000 km. The Aviation sector in the past seven years has seen unprecedented corruption, losses of Rs 53,000 crore and a debt of Rs 1 lakh crore; but it gave a package of Rs 30,000 crore to the private airlines. Delhi is starved for power and stations that can generate 20,000 MW are ready but non-functional because the regime has failed to allot gas and coal and set up transmission lines, because without money no file is signed.
Striking a personal note, Narendra Modi said it is India’s greatness that a boy who used to sell tea in train cabins to make ends meet has today been elevated by the people to this stage. As the crowds went hysterical, he said, “I never dreamt to be a ruler, I am a sevak”. He exhorted them to “see my past and see my work” and “trust my promise that neither Narendra Modi nor the BJP will ever destroy your trust, let you down; we will live for your dreams, that is our mission”.

He lambasted the dysfunctional regimes in Delhi where the Chief Minister accepts no responsibility for anything that goes wrong, including the safety of young girls, and New Delhi which is paralysed between the Government and the Mother-Son rule. The UPA is drowning in corruption, but remains addicted to “Gandhi-chaap”, the high denomination notes which are being collected in the tonnes. The nation, he concluded, is yearning for Su-raaj, good governance.

http://www.niticentral.com/2013/09/29/modi-blows-ananta-vijaya-139350.html


S. Kalyanaraman

 

 

HRD Human Relations Development


May be it is a Lesson for those who Live in a Fools paradise.

————————————–
TODAY’S RELATIONSHIPS
By
Saman

I was right about the turban again! The Sardar sitting next to me was most definitely a fauji! Not for me the Montek Singh turban or the yuppee turbans worn by Vancouver Sardars. No Siree!

The turban standard that I subscribed to was the one and only Bajwa standards. I being a southie and a fauji, Bajwa had, years ago, initiated me into the art of turban wearing. Having helped him set up his turbans on many occasions, sometimes when our ship was rolling and pitching like hell, I was almost a connoisseur on turbans! Also, my vanity prevented me from appreciating any other way a turban is worn.
This was Bajwa Standards, well almost.

‘Hi’, says the Sardar, red turban, red fifty, about sixty years of age, or so I think.

‘Hello’- me

‘I am Vikram Singh’ – Sardar

Now this is where I typically stop. I don’t like too much conversation on flights. I am the quiet, reading, sleeping type. I generally mumble something and pretend to look at a magazine. But this was a fauji after all! This long business class flight from JFK to Dubai could turn out different.

Me-‘Samani, 48 NDA (just on a whim!)’

Well, well, well’ says the Sardar, ‘I am from the 22nd course’-Spot on Samani!  And the flight starts!

After an unusual bumpy take off, we all get settled down. When the hostess asks for a drink, I choose my usual Jim Beam , soda hoping that the Sardar will also have a drink. But he is different. He chooses orange juice. My first thoughts were ‘This one has turned religious!’ ‘So what do you do in the US?’ asks the Sardar, if just to start a conversation

‘Came for a Board meet’ – me

‘ I came on a holiday to the US’ says the Sardar, looking at me from the corner of his eyes, weighing me. I could almost hear his thoughts. This guy should address me as ‘sir’ is what he is thinking !

Good to hear that Sir!’-me.

After leaving the navy 14 years ago, I don’t like to call any one ‘sir’ and also do not like to be called ‘sir’ by any one. But 22nd course is miles senior! After that it is a pretty much one sided conversation, with him talking and I listening.

What a story this turns out to be! ‘ Had an excellent twenty two years in the Army, with Command appointments and the occasional tiff with the bosses initially’ starts the Sardar. ‘ Tiffs got more frequent as I went up in service’. ‘Got married like anyone else, two kids, both sons’ . ‘Left the army as it was strangling me. Couldn’t stand the hierarchy and especially those bureaucrats in Delhi’ ‘liked my old monk soda-too much of it in fact’-Sardar giving me his life story in tweets!

‘Started a small textile business based in Ludhiana initially’ continues the Sardar.’ Slowly grew and established my business first in Delhi and then in Mumbai’. ‘That’s when tragedy stuck’ says he, hoping that I would break my silence at least now.

‘What happened sir’ I dutifully ask, getting slightly muzzled with my second Jim Beam. I might as well confess, I am a two Jim Beam (small) man. Anything more than that, I get high and go to sleep.

‘Well the wife dies on me suddenly’ says the Sardar fully accusing her as if it was her fault.‘So sorry to hear that sir’ I mumble.

‘Blood cancer they said. One minute she was there and another minute she was gone’ continues the Sardar. ‘Tried to give her the best medical attention-no luck’. ‘Worst part was that she was the bridge between me andmy sons or their wives’. ‘You know with these field appointments, you hardly know your sons, especially when they grow up’. ‘Worse still when they get married’. ‘’Their wives were so, well, different’. ‘I think I have two grand sons and three grand daughters’ . ‘Or is it the other way around?’ ‘Not sure’ says the Sardar almost asking me to help him remember.‘But the business went on extremely well’ he continues.

‘Bought a large plot near Gurgaon’ and built a three story house’. ‘Ground floor for me, first floor for the elder son ‘s family and top floor for the younger son’s family’. Elder son to look after the business in Delhi and younger one  for Mumbai. I retained overall control and also business expansion into other metros. 33 crores  turn over in four years, can you believe that?’ asks the Sardar

‘Wife died in the ground floor. At least she could take part a bit in my success’.  ‘Three cars’. Bought the second Sonata in whole of Delhi, would you believe this?’ he continues. Having stayed in Dubai for long, I know for a fact that Hyundai Sonata is a lousy car but I let him bask in his glory. “That was great Sir, I mumbled’   ‘Yes, Sonata for me, Esteem for my sons’ says the Sardar and the meal arrives. I see the Sardar having Asian Jain Vegetarian meal. “This is surely going to end religious ‘ I think ‘See how life changes’ the sardar asks philosophically between mouths full of yucky pasty main course.

‘This happens one day, after my wife’s death, when I was about sixty one years old’ he says

‘My elder daughter in law comes to me and says, “Papa why don’t you spend more time with the grand kids?”

‘Now this is the first time she has spoken to me in months’ continues the Sardar, ‘I thought she was being extremely nice and cares about me’   ‘Sure Beta, what do you want me to do?’ I asked.

‘Why don’t you drop them to school daily in the Sonata?’ says Rupali, ‘well that’s her name’

‘Sure Beta’ I say, wholeheartedly thinking that I should spend more time with the grandkids;  especially since I did not spend time with my kids

‘This routine starts and actually I started enjoying  it myself. The kids like the Sonata. Well they were spoiling it a bit but that was OK’

‘After a few months’ continues the Sardar, it was the younger daughter in law’s turn. She comes and asks ‘Papa, can you get us some grocery?’

‘What do you need Beta’ I ask and she gives me a long list. ‘So I dutifully get it, using my credit card for god’s sake!’

This goes on for a while and slowly but steadily I start doing a lot of house hold work. Of course we had maids etc but I am soon helping with kids’ homework.

On my sixty third birthday, my younger son comes to me and says ’ papa, I have a surprise gift for you!’. He takes me outside and shows me a brand new Alto all 800 cc of it. Couldn’t make out whether it is a second hand car. I mumbled ‘thanks’

‘Suddenly from next day, the driver drops me and the kids to school in the Alto. Elder son has gone on a visit to his in laws in the Sonata.

I still did not feel anything amiss’. The sardar stops to see if I am listening or have I dozed off. He doesn’t know that I am all ears now and in fact my heart is palpitating.

Then one day during holi, we have a family dinner. Now this is one tradition which the wife has established, god bless her soul. Come hell or high water, holi dinner was taboo. That’s when I make an announcement

“Beta logon, I have a surprise gift for you!”

“What’s it papa, asks the elder son’

‘I have arranged a family holiday for all you for 45 days to the US during the summer!’. ‘I think you all looked after me so well that I felt you needed the break’ “all business class, five star stay in both west and east coast’

‘But papa, how about the business?’-younger son

‘All taken care of. Shyam Gupta ( our manager for a long time) and I will handle this in your absence. As such business is dull during summer and I so want you to go and enjoy!’.

“The wives were pleased whilst the sons, I was not so sure’. “Grand kids yell-whoopie’

‘That was a great gesture’ I say, munching a sandwich

‘But what was greater was yet to come’ says the sardar. ‘Just like the appreciation exercises we did in staff college, I had’ appreciated the situation and situated the appreciation’ he continues, the only hint of humour during our entire conversation during the long flight.

Then comes a burst of gunfire from the Sardar

Just after Holi

1. I place an ad in the Times of India Matrimony asking for a soul mate

2. I place another ad for selling my house

3. Yet another ad for selling my business

4. last ad for selling my cars, except the Sonata

‘When the family duly went on the holiday, I sold the house, my business and cars. And do you know, also found a soul mate in a Bengali professor, teaching in JNU!’. I shifted to DSOI and here I am back from my holiday! My wife had some business in New York and she is coming back after a week. She doesn’t like meat eaters or drinkers and that’s why I decided to give up both.

In the bargain my weight has come down and my medical test reports have all come to near normal.

‘A success story wouldn’t you say?’ asks the Sardar when the flight is about to land in Dubai. ’ And you know what, ‘ he continues,’ when I land in Delhi, the Sonata will pick me up to take me to DSOI!’

I am not a hugging person. But this was one occasion I almost got up,
(screw the seat belt sign) and hugged the man!


With best wishes