That which is mine today, was someone else’s yesterday;
And shall become another’s day after,
Change is the only rule of the world;
But change should be according to rule and in the right manner.
The first few lines of Kalikho Pul’s suicide note give away the humble beginnings of the late Arunachal Pradesh Chief Minister. What it also gives away is the reason that made him the man that he was.
“I was born into a poor and backward family. I have only faced adversity and endured sorrow all my life. On several occasions, I have triumphed over the tribulations. But from birth itself, my destiny had misfortunes written in it,” Pul writes in the note he left behind, one that has been made public by a non-profit organisation after The Quint’s investigation into the same.
Pul, who lost both his parents as he turned six, expresses a deep sense of deprivation in his letter. “I have no one I can call my own. I have always been deprived of the love of parents and family,” he wrote on 8 August 2016, one day before he committed suicide.
Abandonment, Both Personal and Political
The tone of Pul’s words also betrays an innate emotion of loneliness, one that he felt not only personally, but also politically.
“I believe that every individual comes out of his mother’s womb without anything, and departs the same way. If every individual could truly understand that, there would never be any strife in the name of religion, caste, distinctions of high and low, rich and poor, nor any battles over wealth, land, property, power and prestige,” Pul pens in his letter.
The letter, explosive in nature owing to the incriminating evidence of the corruption of judicial luminaries, cannot be read in isolation. It’s laced with profound philosophical undertones, expressed quite explicitly in places.
“But today’s human is increasingly losing sight of this reality. He is ever prepared to kill or be killed for these things. In the process he forgets the eternal truth that he is merely a soul. I have always looked at life as a mirror reflecting truth,” writes Pul.
What Made Him the Man He Was
“I learnt to face the challenges of life from childhood itself, be it for bread or for my rights. As a child I walked miles to collect firewood from the forest for one meal. Trapped in poverty and helplessness I have laboured as a carpenter for a daily wage of Rs 1.50, earning Rs 45 per month,” he reveals.
His carpentry tools, the reminders of his early struggle, were one of Pul’s priced possession till his last day.
Pul’s personna as carrying a touch of melancholy is not difficult to gauge from his letter. What one might not find out is that he was also a brilliant student.
“During his formative years, Pul would reach school quite early. He would be softly admonished by the headmaster, ‘Kalikho, you have come early!’,” Dhiraj Sinha, one of his schoolmates wrote for The Wire. The words of his headmaster or that of his schoolmate do not reveal the fact that Pul could not attend regular school in his childhood days.
“Along with my carpentry work I managed to study at the Adult Education Centre, Walla. Seeing my hard work and dedication, the school administration put me through a test and admitted me directly into class VI. When I was attending day school, between Class VI and VIII, I took up casual employment, studying during the day and working as a chowkidar at night,” Pul writes in the suicide note.
‘I Do Not Fear Anyone’
Working his way up as a contractor, Pul managed to earn enough to afford a gypsy and four trucks by the time he reached class 12. By the time he was in college, the humble man had his “own business, own conveyance, servants and also a small RCC (reinforced cement concrete) house with three rooms.”
The late Chief Minister, who held a ministerial position for 23 years, never added a single room to that house, his letter discloses. Pul does not shy away from stating that he will always be proud of one thing – that he was a self-made man.
The last few paragraphs of Pul’s letter exposes a sense of uneasiness with the state of affairs in the country.
It also lays bare the state of his mind.
“I do not fear anyone. I am not weak and I do not consider this as an act of surrender on my part.”
In a reclusive cosmic corner somewhere, Pul’s words continue to reverberate, six months after he breathed his last.
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