One of the last days spent in Kerala, Prem takes me to visit the greatest living poet in Malayalam. 82 years old and lives near his house.
In his life he wrote long poems in verse, but is not widely known outside of Kerala.
With us is a friend of Prem. At the beginning are a bit 'embarrassed, because I do not know who he is, what he has written what he wrote, what he did and he does not speak English very well, do not always understand.
After a while, 'but the ice melts and begins to talk about his militancy in the days of Gandhi during the struggle for independence, the stories that I like. He says that he left school to join the movement and then, after independence, he played the Communist Party, had a very still strong in Kerala and the government in this state. Is defined as halfway between Gandhi, the spiritual aspect, and the Communists, for the aspects of equality and social justice. A Gandhian communist. I do not see anything strange, indeed is a figure that can only be nice to myself.
What seems strange to me is rather different: it is a Brahmin. Brahmins are born, and here there is little to do. But he is not just born Brahmin, Brahmin continues to behave as: wearing a lanyard, which sanctions the caste, naturally takes a bow at his feet of his friend Prem, which reaches up to touch his feet with his head.
Brahmins have the full privileges of caste, are above all. How can a communist accept the caste wear the symbols, accept the bows that are due by virtue of his position of superiority?
Communism has degenerated in many countries and has often done the opposite of what he said. Those who called themselves communists often abuse their privileges. So there is nothing strange, the whole world is country.
However, there is nothing to be done, despite the strong sympathy that inspires me this old writer, a Brahmin communist I had never heard. And I can not help but think that there is something strange. While their perfettaemnte is normal.
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