Ved Pratap Vaidaik is approaching seventy years of age. He holds a doctorate from the Jawahar Lal Nehru University. A journalist of repute, he is the founder editor of ‘Bhasha’ – a Hindi news agency. He chairs the Bharatiya Bhasha Sammelan and has several award-winning research publications to his credit. Dr. Vaidik proudly displays on his website his photographs with Prime Minister Indira Gandhi, Pakistan’s Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif and other dignitaries from both the sides of the border. According to a recent interview he gave to a national paper, it was he who had predicted several years ago that Modi would one day be India’s prime minister. Not best known for any false humility, he tells whosoever cares to listen, of his closeness to the powers that be, including PM Modi himself. Why then such a highly educated, accomplished and well-connected man – himself a celebrity – had to meet Hafiz Saeed, a proclaimed offender and India’s enemy number one? Was it the professional curiosity of a veteran journalist, plain simple dare-devilry or the lust for glory that drove Dr. Vaidik to this act of dubious distinction?
‘All three of them,’ Kaga Bhushundi ji said laconically.
‘I don’t follow you.’ I said.
Kaga Bhushundi SpeakEth
Suman K Sharma
‘Look, son. One, Vaidik ji is an eminent journalist. What do journalists live for but telling tales? Here was a big tale waiting for him and he jumped for it. Two, no one can deny that it required some pluck to enter into the terrorist’s lair and engage him in polite conversation. And three, yes, he did seek glory or why else would he be talking himself hoarse about this meeting? That said, I do feel that in meeting Hafiz Saeed, Vaidik ji acted rather too wise.’
‘Why do say that, Kagaji?’
‘Let me tell you the story of Narad Muni. The venerable sage was on one of his countless jaunts when he came across a prosperous town. There he was invited to the royal palace and the king, anxious for the marriage of his only daughter, beseeched him to read the princess’ palm. Narad ji agreed, though he did not care much for human affairs. But when they brought the nubile rajkumari in his presence, he was dumbstruck by her beauty and graces. The sage felt this was the woman he could sacrifice all his vows of celibacy and mendicancy for. There was a problem though, he realized painfully. The would-be bride was fresh like the first bloom of the spring, while he was an age-old autumn tree. With what face could he ask the king for the damsel’s hand? Making a hasty retreat from the palace, Narad Muni went straight to Bhagwan Vishnu….’
‘I know the rest of the story, Kagaji. Narad Muni asks Lord Vishnu for a winsome face and then goes on to prove himself too wise for his own good. For, unknown to him, the new face that he proudly carries to win the princess’ hand is not that of a Prince Charming, but a monkey’s. At the royal wedding everybody has a hearty laugh at the expense of poor old Narad. It’s a funny tale in an otherwise utterly moralistic drama of Ramayana; but how do you connect it with Dr. Vaidik’s meeting with Hafiz Saeed?’
‘Son, there is a moral in the funny tale too; we will come to it presently. As to your query, Vaidik ji had gone on a three-day yatra to Pakistan in a group of bhadra-lok for promoting peace and understanding between the two countries. On completion of the visit as planned, others came back home, but Vaidik ji extended his stay. Then strings were pulled here and there and he found himself sitting face to face with Hafiz Saeed, sharing pleasantries with him and refusing to touch the eatables placed before him out of empathy for his fasting host. So far, so good. The problem arose when the two men started talking shop. Hafiz Saeed put on an act of an innocent man who was being wrongly maligned by India. And Vaidaik ji on his part tried to apply Narad Muni-like charm on the hard-boiled terrorist, perhaps to win him off his dreadful ways. Giving free rein to his tongue (known as he is for his oratory), he said things about Kashmir and sharing of water with Pakistan, which he was not supposed to say.’
‘But, Kagaji, Dr. Vaidik is not the sort of a person who would shoot shoot off his mouth without some indication from the right quarters.’
‘There lies the moral of the tale. Vaidik ji presumed that he had the authority to talk whatever came to his mind. Presuming too much, he turned presumptuous and ended up being a laughing stock before the whole world. “Arrogance,” as someone said, “on the part of the meritorious is even more offensive to us than the arrogance of those without merit: for merit itself is offensive.”‘
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