The overrated Acharya

A few years back, renowned authoress and poetess plus my genuine well-wisher Geetashree Chatterjee gifted me the complete set of the original trilogy authored by Ashwin Sanghi which consisted of The Rozabal Line, Chanakya’s Chant and The Krishna Key. I found the books as real page-turners and despite not being habitual of reading in English, I finished all the three (quite bulky) of them within a fortnight. I liked the first one, i.e., The Rozabal Line very much despite some blemish here and some blot there in its narrative. And I also liked the third one, i.e., The Krishna Key very much despite not agreeing to certain narrative points put forth by the author (say, his own assumptions).

And now about the second one, i.e., Chanakya’s Chant which is considered as the most popular as well as the most commercially successful book of this author, truly a bestseller. I liked it as an engrossing book because like the other two, I found it also a page-turner. However I found it difficult to admire it the same way I have always found it difficult to admire Chanakya, the historical figure, the learned Acharya who is considered a legend. Chanakya has been glorified (and is still glorified regularly) a lot but does he really deserve that ? At least one person in the world won’t answer it in the affirmative. And that one person is me, Jitendra Mathur.

I had read a lot about Chanakya in various books and also known about him through a skillfully made TV serial titled as Chanakya only (written and directed by Chandraprakash Dwivedi who also played the title role in the same). And now this book too has informed me a lot about it, albeit in a fictionalized manner. I am willing to talk about the book (whose author’s ideological tilt is now well-known) as well as that historical personality who has been admired just too much over the centuries in different ways.

Author Ashwin Sanghi has spread the narrative of Chanakya’s Chant by using two timelines alternatively. One timeline is set 2300 years ago and the other one is set in the 20th century A.D. (which spills over to the first decade of the 21st century A.D.). Both run in parallel chapter-by-chapter and thus you are able to read two stories running side-by-side in one book only giving you a two-in-one pleasure. The first timeline (narrating the times in the ancient India) tells the story of a Brahmin boy named as Vishnugupt (who, being son of Chanak, later came to be known as Chanakya) who vows to avenge the killing of his father by the cruel king of Magadha, Dhanananda. The second timeline narrates the story of a boy Gangasagar Mishra who is equally ambitious (and sharp-minded) as his ancient day counterpart in the 20^th century India colonized by the British. Both these boys grow-up enhancing their knowledge and wit by keeping their eyes and ears open and carefully learning the things taught to them by their Gurus. Their ultimate field of work is the same – politics (of power). In the ancient India, Chanakya decides to become the kingmaker instead of becoming the king himself and develops a disciple in the form of a boy, Chandragupt Maurya to be enthroned. In the modern India, Gangasagar decides the same and makes a girl, Chandini Gupta his protégé. Chanakya not only seeks his revenge from Dhanananda but also thrones Chandragupt in Magadha. Similarly, Gangasagar is able to propel Chandini to the chair of the prime minister of India after spending a lifetime in the (power) politics of India when the 21^st century has arrived.

Ashwin Sanghi has written a gripping book devoting more space to the modern day Chanakya, i.e., Gangasagar who not only learns accounting from the patron (Yajaman) of his father (who is a poor Brahmin earning a living by arranging ritualism for his Hindu patrons) but also the tricks of business. Coincidentally I am also an accountant by profession and I was surprised to find in the book that at one place the accountant (Munimji) of Agrawalji (Gangasagar’s father’s patron) teaches the boy that an accountant can convert two plus two into whatever he wants it to be (not just four). A couple of years back I had asserted the same thing in an interview in an organization (for the position of Director Finance) and I was not selected. Despite showing Agrawalji coming into contact with Mahatma Gandhi, neither he not his protégé Gangasagar learnt anything (genuinely) patriotic or useful for the society. Agrawalji remained as greedy for profit as he had always been. And Gangasagar learnt only one thing that power can make or break empires and he had to possess the same in his life (by his sheer willpower).

The author has penned a lucid novel with doses of humour scattered here and there which also contains an utterly indecent comment on the institution of marriage made by Chanakya while talking to Chandragupt. It contains factual errors (in the context of the history we have known hitherto) also and though the author had penned it as early as in 2010, he (may be due to a Chanakya like foresight) had sensed the change in waiting to arrive in India within a span of just a few years. And (perhaps) that’s why he has relentlessly played to the gallery, glorifying Chanakya’s extraordinary wit and wisdom which had no place for morals or ethics. His Chanakya keeps on reciting the word ‘Rashtra’ (nation) every now and then but almost all of his activities are self-serving only. And so are of Gangasagar (the modern day Chanakya created by the author) who does not even need to camouflage his greed for power in the cover of nationalism or social service.  As Vladimir Lenin had once asserted – ‘There are no morals in politics; there is only expedience. A scoundrel may be of use to us just because he is a scoundrel.’

Summing up, this well-written novel has a few admirable things but more or less, it’s no better than a pulp-fiction novel or a popcorn movie. It’s by all means a potboiler with all the ingredients of entertainment picked in optimal quantities and blended properly. Chanakya was also known as Kautilya and he had penned Arthashastra under that name only. Yes, a few canons of revenue and taxation plus the administration of affairs of the state as spelled out in the same (and reproduced in this novel) are agreeable and worthy to learn. All the same, his glorification beyond a limit is uncalled for because in the end he was a trickster only, a shrewd (and wicked) politician who had no qualms about taking innocent lives too to further his interest or achieve his chosen goal. So are the politicians of today’s India. Should we glorify them too ? Mahatma Gandhi had rightly refused to consider the electioneering politicians as pure patriots because, in his view, they termed their love for power as love for the nation and misguided the voters accordingly. Chanakya also wanted power only, albeit indirectly – by making someone else sit on the throne.

The learned Acharya, named as Chanakya, was (and is) thus overrated. And so is this bestseller novel.

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