'The Triple Stream'

...he that laboureth right for love of Me
Shall finally attain! But if in this
Thy faint heart fails, bring Me thy failure!

-The Song Celestial

‘The Triple Stream’ ¹

TWO EMINENT JOURNALISTS .

Within a few weeks of each other, two eminent journalists of South India have passed away,–Mr. A. Rangaswami Iyengar of The Hindu and Mr. Challa Seshagiri Rao of the Andhrapatrika. Both of them started life as lawyers, but soon turned to journalism as a means of rendering important services to the Motherland. For a whole decade, from 1918 to 1928, they shared the great task of shaping public opinion in South India through the two foremost organs of vernacular journalism, the Tamil Swadesamitran and the Telugu Andhrapatrika. They had immense faith in the mission of educating the common man, ignorant of English, into a knowledge of the rights and duties of citizenship. And if today political education has penetrated to the remotest villages of South India, a large measure of the credit belongs to these two stalwarts.

While Mr. Challa Seshagiri Rao gave the best portion of his life to undivided worship at the shrine of the Andhrapatrika, Mr. Rangaswami Iyengar played a larger role. In the Congress and the legislatures, at Round Table Conferences and gatherings of national leaders, his advice was invaluable. He was among the most gifted Indians of his generation, and his reputation for tact and fairplay stood high. Generous, amiable, and modest, he was the friend of all. By his association with The Hindu he raised it to the position of India's foremost daily, fit to rank with the best in any land. It is nothing short of a national calamity that two such publicists should have been snatched from us at a critical period in our fortunes. The Editor of Triveni was in personal contact with them for several years and feels grateful for many acts of kindness and of love. He wishes to render affectionate homage to their memory.

STRICKEN BIHAR

The attention of all India is now directed to the millions of our countrymen in Bihar, left destitute by the earthquake. Government, as well as Indian leaders like Babu Rajendra Prasad are organising relief measures on a large scale. Magadha was the home of the earliest empires in Indian history, and even after the empires vanished, she kept alive the flame of learning and scholarship for centuries. In the present struggle for the nation's rights, Bihar has played a conspicuous part. In seeking to relieve stricken Bihar, the people of other provinces are but paying a minute fraction of the debt they owe to the land of Janaka and Asoka. With whole cities destroyed, large tracts of the countryside laid waste, and thousands of families rendered homeless, the task of reconstruction offers problems of great complexity. Gandhiji has decided, at Rajendra Babu's entreaty, to spend a month in Bihar and offer advice regarding the plan of relief. This is one of those moments when we feel our kinship with all those ‘that are sad and heavy-laden’; and without distinction of race, colour or creed, every one should deem it his duty to send every available coin and every available volunteer to Bihar. An unfortunate feature of the situation is the imprisonment of Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru who threw himself heart and soul into the work of relief, and pick-axe in hand, set a splendid example by clearing the debris. The utter lack of imagination and sympathy now displayed is particularly to be regretted, for it prevents the Pandit from contributing his great talents and heroic ardour to the task of reconstruction. But Governments are wooden.

‘ON HANGING’

During the short interval of one month that Dr. Pattabhi Sitaramayya spent outside the Vellore prison, the Editor implored him to write an article for Triveni on ‘India politics today’. But the Doctor chose to consider himself a prisoner on parole and refused to write on politics. Instead, he wrote on hanging, its technique, its ethics, and the possible results of its abolition as a form of punishment. His argument may be summed up in a single sentence: ‘When you once eliminate hanging, you put a premium upon murder.’ His position is that of an administrator, not a humanitarian; he wishes that the problem should be approached in a dispassionate spirit and solved with a view to the ultimate good of society. But even after very sincere efforts to ‘revise the generous sentiments of our youth and the hasty judgment of our inexperience,’ we find ourselves unable to agree that the retention of capital punishment, as the extreme penalty of the law, is in the interests of human progress. The movement for its

abolition is widespread and based on a deep-seated conviction that the taking of life by process of law is a relic of barbarism. During the last century the list of crimes for which capital punishment used to be awarded has shrunk considerably, and the tendency is to press for its total abolition. Apart from the unsuitability of the ancient code that sought to take ‘an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth,’ there are grave doubts whether this form of punishment does act as a deterrent. Most murders are committed in a momentary fit of passion, and the prospect of punishment enters very little into the calculation of chances at the moment of murder. In fact, there is no calculation at all. By hanging a man, you make it impossible for him to repent or reform. But one consideration that ought to outweigh all others in a discussion like the present, is that human judgment is not infallible, and in some cases at least the person hanged may have been innocent. Hanging is the one punishment that is, by its very nature, irreversible, and once an innocent person is hanged there is no power on earth that can make amends.

INDIAN POLITICS TODAY

As the public mind is preoccupied with the Harijan tour of Gandhiji and the acute distress in Bihar, the political situation is receiving very little attention. The all-Parties’ Conference has not been held, and even ardent sponsors of the conference are not sanguine about its results. The Congress is sullen; it will not participate in the conference. Civil disobedience has not been formally withdrawn. But, barring stray cases of individuals who court imprisonment time after time, it has ceased to be an important factor in the nation’s programme. Communal and other squabbles show no signs of abatement. Everywhere there is a feeling of lassitude. The greatest need is a coordinated effort to organise the national forces for a forward move. Opposition to the White Paper is a negative factor and cannot possibly give the requisite momentum. A programme of social uplift and purification like the Harijan movement does not lead to definite results in the political sphere. Those that pin their faith to work in the legislatures of the future, find that they are unable to evoke widespread enthusiasm. The position is one of the most baffling within recent times. Hope, faith, unity, are lacking. At the end of two decades of planning for a Swaraj India, we seem to be nowhere within sight of the Promised Land. ‘Whither India?’ is the question confronting every thinking Indian today. Out of this very feeling of doubt and confusion, must emerge an intensive, nation-wide programme. Every great movement has its periods of inactivity, which are invariably followed by an advance; rest and recuperation are the prelude to renewed activity, but it is difficult to keep our faith bright when we seem to have suffered a set-.

A HINDI TOUR

Yesterday a batch of Hindi Pracharaks (propagandists) left Madras on a tour to North India. The object is to bring together North and South, and enable lovers of Hindi to compare notes with a view to future work. Young men and women whose mother-tongue is Telugu, Tamil or Kannada, have pledged themselves to spread a knowledge of Hindi in their home provinces, and the results of their labours have been very encouraging. Every year, thousands of persons young and old, sit for the examinations held under the auspices of the ‘Dakshina Bharat Hindi Prachar Sabha,’ and acquire a good knowledge of Hindi. But as there is no living contact with people who habitually speak Hindi, the knowledge so acquired is apt to be bookish. Needless emphasis is laid on the study of Hindi literature, and the spoken word is subordinated to the written. What must be aimed at is an adequate acquaintance with spoken idiomatic Hindi, so that men all over India may readily enter into conversation through the lingua franca. The study of Hindi literature as such, may be left to a few who feel a special aptitude for it, or desire to translate the best in Hindi into their own language. Frankly, we do not desire that Hindi should take precedence of Tamil, Telugu, Marathi or Bengali, as the language of culture in the respective provinces. It is no comfort to exchange the domination of English for that of Hindi. Even ardent advocates of Hindi do not pretend that, as a medium of culture, Hindi is superior to the languages mentioned. Every one of them has a rich heritage in the shape of literature in a variety of forms. One year’s intensive study, or six months of travelling in Hindi-speaking provinces ought to be sufficient training for most of us. But little children of nine and ten, who have not learnt even the rudiments of their mother-tongue, are being put through the mill of Hindi examinations. In our view, all examinations are an abomination, particularly those that, in effect, impose a tongue other than the mother-tongue at a comparatively immature age. We wish to commend this aspect of the question to the consideration of Hindi propagandists in South India.

A TRIBUTE TO ANANDA MOHAN

In the journal entitled Les Artistes D’ajourd’hui, M. Pascal Levis writes the following appreciative note about young Ananda Mohan:

‘Ananda Mohan Sastri, though aged only 25, has presented us at the ‘Salon Des Artistes Francais,’ works exceptionally masterful and revealing true originality of conception.

This artist who lives in India, has before him a marvellous field for exploration; his sensibility and refinement, his culture and sense of the beautiful, enable him to draw much from that which he has under his eyes. His paintings are little living dramas; truthful reproductions of the daily life of his passionate country. Let us add that the manner in which the two scenes entitled ‘Shadows’ and ‘Knife-sharpener’ are treated, is exceedingly beautiful and they impress us by their richness and by a power that comes to them out of their own perfection. It is the style of a great artist in whom youthful Painting has gained one of its most worthy exponents. The Government of India has indeed recognised this by choosing, in 1930, some works of Mr. Ananda Mohan Sastri for being shown at the exhibition of the Imperial Gallery of Arts at London.’

The brothers Ram Mohan and Ananda Mohan are already well known to readers of Triveni through reproductions of their pictures. They received their early training at the Andhra Jatheeya Kalasala, Masulipatam, and then worked for a time with Mr. K. Venkatappa of Mysore. We have no doubt that they are making a distinctive contribution to modern Indian art.

1 26th Feb. 1934.