

HYDERABAD: The legend of Gauri Lankesh lives among people, among words long after she’s been silenced by the right wing extremists who couldn’t find a braver way to face or crush her fearlessness. This spirit of her fierceness lingered at Lamakaan where the collection of her essays, journalistic pieces and write-ups on her by others was released not just in English, but Telugu as well. She was the editor of Lankesh Patrike and was murdered by unidentifiaed assailants in her Bengaluru home on September 5. A big flexi behind the panelists had the photograph of Gauri with a smile that seemed infectious, very alive much like her writing and crusades that many in the country couldn’t digest.
Her sister Kavita Lankesh arrived from Bengaluru, to release the book ‘The Way I See It: A Gauri Lankesh Reader’ along with filmmaker Prakash Raj, writer-teacher-activist Susie Tharu and academician-editor Chandan Gowda. There was barely space to move as the audience listened to the book reading done both in English and Telugu with rapt attention. Questions followed, discussions happened and soon the environment was of ‘being a fearless citizen’.
While the city got busy welcoming entrepreneur-cum-advisor-to-the-president Ivanka Trump and PM Narendra Modi for GES, the small makeshift book counter near Lamakaan gate looked almost crashed with people vying with each other to purchase copies of the book available in English and Telugu. Gauri herself, in her writings, was blending both cosmopolitan and vernacular quite explicit in one of her essays ‘Language roots and English Skies’ published in a Bangaluru newspaper. She wrote: “I grew up thinking, dreaming, living and expressing myself in English.
Even today, I learn about things happening around the world through English newspapers, news channels, and, of course, the various websites and blogs. Yet, I am battling for the mother tongue to be made the medium of instruction at the primary school level.” The most powerful message in the write-up is when she writes of the country becoming a land of rootless souls if mother tongues are ignored. Talking about her efforts of polishing her Kannada, in which she began writing later, the editor of the book Chandan shared, “She would give more than hundred per cent to the language. She published several works in translations of noted poets/authors like Faiz Ahmed Faiz, Perumul Murugan, Rana Ayyub and others. She’d release books each year on the birthday of her father P Lankesh, who’d started Lankesh Patrike.”
It was interesting to see someone from the audience asking Gauri’s close friend Prakash Raj if he can say anything in this country freely without being labelled as an anti-national. The director responded, “Read between the lines. Look at the agenda, the political propaganda. Those who don’t want peace are in power. India is suffering because we don’t act collectively. Tell them what they are doing, you don’t like it. Don’t be the silent majority and wait for someone else to do it.
Speak, resist. Be fearless. It’s your country. Don’t let them win.” This is what Gauri Lankesh was doing. She was fearless. She was strong and stood to her ground. Malyalam writer Paul Zacharia sums it up in the introduction of the book: “Gauri’s death also marks a decisive turning point in the nation’s battle against fascism.”
The cold-blooded murder of 55-year-old Gauri was similar to those of Govind Pansare, Narendra Dabholkar and MM Kalburgi which signifies what they stood for was threatening for the modus operandi of some groups. Talking about the silence of people due to fear Chandan added, “How do we keep the possibilities of an open society? It has to be done step by step. This was Gauri was doing. If she was an activist there was also a tender side to her. When she saw children on the carpet, she’d sit and play with them. She was not into sweet talks nor was she rigid to others.
There was a deep humanism inside her which connected her to people. And yet there she was a fearless individual.” Her human side made her dear to many. Sometimes transgenders in trouble would call up and she’d ask a lawyer to go. Sometimes she would laugh at her sister Kavita on her being apolitical. “And there I am talking about her on several platforms. If she saw me now, she’d burst out laughing. I am discovering my sister again through different people she met and stood for,” shared the younger Lankesh, an acclaimed filmmaker, lyricist and screen writer in Kannada film industry. She made Gauri immortal in her poem in which she compared her to a sunflower. A fiery bloom that she was, her sun-like presence is going to stay forever.