ಗಾಂಧಿ (Gandhi)
by ಡಾ. ಬೆಸಗರಹಳ್ಳಿ ರಾಮಣ್ಣ (Dr. Besagarahalli Ramanna)
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This realistic short story by Dr. Besagarahalli Ramanna, himself a doctor, is a heartbreaking commentary on the loss of humanitarian values in post-independence India. A poor rural grandfather, Karisiddegowda, struggles against extreme poverty and systemic medical neglect to save his dying grandson, whom he had innocently named 'Mahatma Gandhi' because of the child's large, prominent ears. In a corrupt, indifferent government hospital the boy is mocked and neglected, and dies on the cold ward floor. The tragic irony of the boy's name exposes how modern India has discarded the real values of Gandhi.
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The story opens in the dusty village of Balkere. Karisiddegowda, an elderly, poor farmer, lives with his daughter Ningamma and her young son. The boy suffers a severe, mysterious illness, a swollen belly, thin limbs and burning fever. The simple, superstitious grandfather had named him 'Mahatma Gandhi' because the child was born with unusually large ears, resembling the portraits of Bapu on school walls.
The indifferent hospital
As local treatments fail, the family carries its meagre savings to the district government hospital (Doddaspatre). There they face long queues, a rude clerk who mocks the boy's name and scribbles 'Gandhi' on the slip, and an arrogant Chief Medical Officer (Vaidyadhikari) who keeps his distance, repelled by their rural appearance. When the doctor's staff learn the child's name, they erupt in laughter, treating the sick boy as a joke.
A crushing tragedy
After a careless examination, the doctor announces advanced heart and liver disease and prescribes expensive medicines from a private pharmacy, knowing the family cannot afford them. Karisiddegowda's savings vanish in a day; he falls at the staff's feet begging them to save his grandson, pledging his land and house, but is met with cold silence and ordered to vacate the ward. That night the boy dies on the hard floor.
The story ends with the crushed grandfather wrapping the tiny body in a torn sheet and, as he leaves, glancing at a portrait of the real Mahatma Gandhi on the office wall, realising that the India Gandhi died to build has become a heartless desert for the poor.