Hyderabad Karnataka Liberation
A fictional retelling of the Liberation Movement of Hyderabad-Karnataka area, through the eyes of an enigmatic archetype with mythological connotations.
1.Submerged
2.Resistance
3.Salvation
Submerged
HE sneaked out of his abode and strolled contemplatively across the far-stretching sacred rocky hills of the Deccan plateau; with a number of majestic ancient temple-towers rising behind and places worth a mention in history lying strewn all around below him. Black wild boars were indigenous to this region and too common a sight, unless one had the insight to realize. But right now, the people right here were quite disturbed to notice it. There was something – a huge thing – happening among the, the visuals of which were just too gory.
HE knew it.
HE had witnessed it all.
Through all the times and ages.
This particular place had always peculiar. An oasis of sorts.
An oasis of hope and prosperity during turbulent times.
An isolated bit of chaos and trauma during otherwise happy times.
One day, it was the homeland of mighty kings and lofty philosophers.
Next day, it was the massacre ground for plundering invaders.
Flowers turned to thorns. Saviours turned to traitors.
It was the same now.
HE was witnessing the land that was once the mighty Vijayanagara under the whimsical fist of the Nizams, whose rule shut out every possible ray of light and hope
While its neighbours were busy basking in their victory and breathing in the fresh winds of freedom and independence, a huge black cloud of gloom and terror loomed over this particular area.
All because of the tyrannical Nizam, Mir Osman Ali Khan, who was one of the most powerful people of that era, wanted his own rule to continue in the region. He was not only extremely powerful but had also accumulated enormous wealth, which drew attention from not only all the corners of India, but also the world (Time Magazine). He was considered to be one amongst the wealthiest people of those times. His affluence was the reason behind his insolence.
The Nizam stubbornly refused to hand over the reins to the newly formed Indian government. On the very day (15 August 1947) that the country declared itself Independent, the Nizam had openly declared his state of Hyderabad as an independent territory, in spite of repeated requests from the national leaders of that time.
Worse still, he threatened to take advantage of the horrific Partition and make his territory a part of the newly formed nation. He had been granted a year’s time to make a final decision. Taking advantage of this, the Nizam involved in secret alliance with his ideological homeland and supplied funds for its upcoming war with India, with the idea of merging his territory with it.
The natives ran the risk of being totally alienated from their neighbours.
They would be moored on an island amongst a union of states.
They would be said to be citizens of another country.
The freedom of the neighbours had in fact, doubled the troubles of the people here. The fight that the people might put up was feared by the rulers. So, the citizens were now being treated as criminals in their own homeland. Their own home was now worse than a torture prison.
And the basis of all of this mayhem was the army of Razkars.
Razkars were common citizens, who were turned into militants by ideological impact. They were people for who their ideology was higher and dearer than anything else in the world. They feared on one, not even the Nizam. The Nizam, in fact, was a puppet ruler in their hands. They bowed only to their One True God. They were ideological extremists, who were prepared to go to any extremes and followed their holy scriptures right to the last word.
This self-formed army unleashed a regime of terror in the region. Every kind of torture imaginable was inflicted by them upon the citizens – be it dacoit, plunder, murder, kidnapping and sexual abuse of women. The very mention of this extremist organisation induced tremors in the hearts of the masses. The army, though made up of amateurs, proved to be a tough nut to crack.
Resistance
HE was the witness for one more layer of history was being encrusted onto the already deep and myriad history of this place.
The wheel of time rotates. History repeats.
Same plundering. Same murders. Same threatening.
Same fleeing. Same fighting. Same resistance.
The strain of oppression and fear of alienation forced the people to revolt.
Some turn to flight mode. They fled from their places, leaving behind their ancestral lands and mansions.
The brave-hearts chose to stay back and fight. Simpleton villagers had to turn into hardened warriors overnight, in order to fight and defend their village.
Flee or die.
Cower and bow down to the undue demands of the power-wielders to earn the basic right to exist.
He also knew about the multifaceted revolt of the residents.
What started out as a petty peasant revolt had now blown out of proportion into a full-fledged civil war. The Nizam and his close ones owned about 40% of the total land in their region. Forceful bonded labour system was followed there, wherein landless people were forced to work for bare minimum maintained in the fields of their masters. Slavery too wasn’t uncommon. Heavy taxes were leaved on those who did own property. This naturally led the poorer sections of the society to protest against the brutal feudal system.
Patriotism was now a sin. Anyone found praising the idea of a united country was punished for indolence. Love towards the mother land was deemed as treachery against the ruler. Vande Matarm continued to be a cry of revolt and revolution, for long even after the British had left. The Vande Mataram movement continued here, as a cry of the people to be recognised as citizens of the newly formed nation.
The bifurcation of the nation had deeply scarred the psyche of the people. It had, in a way, dissected the very soul of India. People who had come together as one in their fight against the British had now again been divided on communal lines. And hence, not belonging to the same community as the ruler of the land was a crime, for which the only penance was to perish.
The giant black wild boar stood stoically upon the far-stretching sacred rocky hills of the Deccan plateau; with a number of majestic ancient temple-towers rising behind him and places worth a mention in history lying strewn all around below him. The places lying below were in the process of creating history, as revolt was rising in every tiny village of the region. Some of the places even created a permanent place for themselves in history by displaying exemplary resilience and bravery under the harrowingly tyrannical times.
The village of Gorta in Basavakalyana, Karnataka would go on to be known as the Jallianwala Bagh of the South. People would sing folk songs (Bhulai Pada) and install stone plaques to commemorate the bravery and sacrifice of their townsmen of yore, who were butchered mercilessly by the razkars.
Malli village in Jewargi taluk of Kalburgi district, Karnataka would be remembered as the village of patriots, who had dared to hoist the Indian National Flag right under the nose of the Nizam’s rule and face vicious persecution and massacre for it.
The Bairanpalli village of Telangana would earn the epithet of Veera Bairanpalli, in honour of its brave residents who fought the brutal razkars tooth and nail. Not only men, but even women – who were dishonoured by the razkars, put up a brave face and fought back.
The festival of Battukamma was tainted with the traumatic events of this period. The beautiful festival involved merry dancing by women of all ages, together in honour of the Mother Goddess. The tradition was unique to Andhra Pradesh, it was the pride of the local culture. But the razkars had ensured that this glorious bit of tradition was forever stained with the muck of shame in the psyche of the people. The razkars forced the women to do the same dance, but in a naked manner, as a sign of making them dancing to their tunes. This one particular tradition would henceforth be remembered in relation to the atrocities of the razkars.
Many more villages would hold the memories of the camps built in there. There were hundreds of such camps along the borderline of the Nizam region, which acted as refugee camps for the terrorized people and also as a site for assembling martial forces. A number of such camps were set up, the most important one being set in Mudagire, Bellary, Solapur, Bijapur, Dharwad, etc. – These camps were protection and military bases for the common masses who were organizing themselves and joining hands to fight back their oppression.
Guerrilla warfare was the go-to form of warfare. People made use of their crop fields as a suitable hideout to launch attacks on the advancing army of the razkars. Old desolated forts and temples also came in handy. The common masses, armed with rustic equipment and loads of courage, did everything within their power to fight back their captors.
The bear was aware of the various sources which had poured in help Organizations like the Arya Samaj and the Hindu Mahasabha had extended their helping hands to the courageous folks who were holding fort against the Nizam. A number of leaders had sprouted up, in various fronts, to lead the masses to organized agitation. The spirit to fight had risen from within.
Knowledge was the need of the hour for the uneducated masses. The Library Movement came up to cater to this need. The movement not only opened up libraries but also launched up the concept of mobile library. Books were placed alongside food and beverages in roadside eateries. Passing on knowledge in local, comprehensible language was of utmost importance. The educated people themselves rose to the occasion and created the Library Movement, for the people, by the people.
Vande Mataram was still the war-cry of the resolute masses. Singing it got students debarred from the Osmainan University. This turned the movement gain even more momentum. Vande Mataram was something which irked the Nizam Government to no end. Ramachandra Rao, who led the struggle in this direction, was to be remembered as Vande Mataram Ramachandra Rao.
Swami Ramananda Teertha of Arya Samaj was on the forefront of this fight. He was an educator and a fighter. He was the prime figure who spearheaded the liberation movement of Hyderabad, using non-violent satyagraha movements as his primary defensive measure against the violent razkars.
Then, there was Hardikar Manjappa, who was known as the Gandhi of Karnataka, led the struggle by uniting Hindus irrespective of castes and popularising khadi as a symbol of revolt.
Even tribals weren’t left behind. The Gond tribe took an active part and liberated 12 villages from the clutches of the Nizam’s feudalism. Their leader, Komaram Bhim Gaaru was the mastermind behind the guerrilla warfare and self-sustenance during the fight.
Salvation
HE observed that, just like the land which held tons of iron, but in the form of ore; the people of the land were brave, no doubt, but they were still amateur and inorganized, which forced them to remain in defence mode.
There was the need of offensive attack, of attacking the very roots and overthrowing the Nizam rule once for all.
Then it happened!
HE had observed that the past 5 days of the struggle have been different. There was a change, a drastic change and the entire atmosphere of the struggle had changed overnight.
Operation Polo – it was called. The operation was a direct police action against the razkars.
There was a man leading them.
He was the man who had addressed the Nizam rule as cancer.
The one leader who dared to brush aside defensive and deferential tactics and launched a straightforward attack at the razkars.
Who was he?
The land of iron ores demanded nerve of pure iron.
And that exactly what he was!
The land of iron ores was saved by the Iron Man of India.
The Iron Man of India … Sardar Vallabhai Patel. The first … Minister of Independent India.
The date was 17 September 1948.
It was the day when ‘a cancerous tumour in the belly of India’ was removed.
The day when the mighty Nizam of Hyderabad bowed down his head in surrender.
The day when the Hyderabad State breathed freely.
The day when its citizens experienced the taste of freedom for the first time.
Operation Polo succeeded in overpowering the razkar army.
The aristocrats of Hyderabad fled.
The Nizam surrendered to the Nation.
Hyderabad was now officially a part of the Indian State.
Rising his snort high into the air, the giant boar let out an echoing triumphant roar, which revibrated throughout the rocky hills. Motherland was safe again. The demons had been slayed and the masses drowning in misery had been uplifted. Varaha then disappeared back into the sacred hills, heading towards the ringing bells of his temple.
Streams of blood had flowed. Lives lost.
Families displaced.
The pathos of the region remains.
The suffering and sacrifices would remain entrenched in the minds of the people.
But this was neither the first time, nor the last time.
Every time it happened; a leader rose.
Every time it happens; a leader needs to rise.
