We had taken our Payilaham children to the Mahatma Gandhi Ashram at Anaimalai on the Republic Day. I had been invited to speak there. Ranganathan anna, who started Gandhi Ashram, is a traditional, hardcore Gandhian, simple to a fault and respected by all. He has strong opinions, not all of them palatable to the liberal mind. He is perhaps stronger in adhering to his beliefs. He is always clad in coarse white khadi; he often walks barefoot. He works with underpriviledged children and tribals. The flag hoisting at his ashram is usually done by a sanitary worker from the neighbouring areas. A qualified lawyer, he has argued only public interest cases. He has been to the prison a few times, as a reward for the various public causes he has taken up, especially around prohibition. I have seen even senior Gandhians feel nervous if he is expected to be around because he speaks his mind and is prone to raise an objection to the various modern evils used even in events organised by Gandhian and environmental organisations – packaged water bottles, airconditioners, paper/plastic cups, paper spreads on dining tables, flex banners, English citations and more. He doesn’t think a Gandhian can be non-spiritual but continues to invite me, despite my apparent non-spiritual, irreligious bent of mind, to speak at his ashram, and showers love and praise on our family. I happily oblige and reciprocate with respect.
 
After he invited me to sit on the stage, he walked up to me and asked me politely, if I was wearing a khadi dress. He always insists that his speakers must be wearing khadi. The first time when he invited me many years ago, he sent khadi dress material (pure white) to our village , which I had to stitch and wear. I told him, this time, my veshti was mill cotton as I had not carried any of my khadi dhothis to the village but my shirt was khadi. Not exactly trademark khadi but Tula. He allowed me a third class ticket to proceed and sit on the stage.
 
I completely agree with him on the importance of khadi. Otherwise I always have trouble adhering to dress codes. The first time one of my banking bosses insisted on me wearing a tie everyday, I almost quit my job at Bangalore – thankfully I had to only quit on my boss and take up an internal transfer to Mumbai. (Not that I never wore a tie or suit. There were occasions. Ironically, my Mumbai boss gently persuaded me to wear a tie to office for a while.) In this new post-corporate incarnation, I am a willing, though not yet exclusive, user and advocate of handmade products and I need no convincing as long I can afford it. Without wearing a khadi dress, I feel quite naked on stage when I talk about Gandhi, decentralisation and ecological changes.
 
I had to tell him, and later the audience, and I must now tell you this about my Tula shirt. It is the modern equivalent of the original khadi, made of rain-fed organic cotton, hand spun, hand woven and hand stitched and dyed with natural colours. I have heard Ananthoo Anantha Sayanan , who is one of the indefatigable forces behind Tula, proudly proclaim, and I think, rightly so, that it is the dress with the least carbon footprint.
 
We started for Gandhi Ashram with six children at 7 in the morning. We changed 3 local buses to get there. We had breakfast and lunch interspersed with our long speeches inbetween. The children were inspired by Ranganathan anna and wanted to take a few snaps with him. He stopped his lunch midway, arose without the slightest hesitation, washed his hands and joined the children. He presented them all with abridged versions of Gandhi’s autobiography, and posed for photos with the children. A happy memory was etched in the digital world. In the meanwhile we missed the bus. Eight of us stuffed ourselves into an auto to get to the Anaimalai bus stop. Then after a half an hour wait in the hot sun next to a stinky gutter, we had to get into a crowded bus, stood all the way to Pollachi, and got a bus to our village after another brief wait.
 
By the time we reached home at around 5pm, I was on the verge of getting my regular migraine. However, coming to the point, I didn’t feel like changing my shirt at all. I still felt as fresh under the Tula shirt, as I did in the morning. I cannot say what magic happens in pure khadi but it makes you feel fresher and better than any premium brand.
 
I remember what Narayan Desai told me. If everyone bought even a small piece of khadi every year, it empowers and gives livelihood to many crores of people. It makes more real economic, ecological and social sense.
 
Gandhi insisted that swaraj lay in the charkha. I can see why.