DAY 377: In 1888, a young man from India went to London town to study law. Three years later he passed the bar exam and became a bonafide lawyer under the British court system and eventually became the legal representation of a firm in South Africa. Little did the young Indian man know at the time that a couple of decades later he would be hailed as a saint by some -- and shot to death by another.

If you haven't figured out whom I'm talking about yet (psst... here's a hint, look at the picture above or read the title, stupid), it's Mahatma Gandhi. Gandhi had come a long way since his younger days of parted hair, hats and three-piece suits; his time as a lawyer and learning from his guru Raj Chandbahi only helped him on his later quest for social justice and a moral and just society -- which brought for the older, bald-headed, glasses-wearing image of Gandhi you're probably familiar with. This quest for equality was instilled in him in 1893 when he was to take a train through apartheid-instated South Africa on business, only to be forcibly ejected from his first class seat because of his skin color and nationality.

IF YOU HAVEN'T FIGURED IT OUT ALREADY, this history lesson is a result of my visit to the National Gandhi Museum in Delhi, my low-impact place to visit since technically I was supposed to be in bed all day recuperating from the hole in my leg. I had seen Dr. Gupta that morning to get my wound redressed with iodine ointment and a new bandage; he told me that I should let it heal for two more days in Delhi before moving on and that I should go to him for a fresh wound dressing at least two more times.

That didn't stop me from getting to business as usual. Watching the news in my hotel room with my leg elevated in my bed got to be boring again, so I took one of India's signature auto rickshaws to the National Gandhi Museum across town in Old Delhi. Outside the museum was a replica of the hut he lived in during the early 20th century when trying to protest against the oppression back in India; Gandhi did as much as he could to help the Indian struggle in South Africa before dealing with the struggles back home in 1915.

Gandhi's strategy for dealing with the South African and British oppression was a non-violent one, which he called Satyagraha. Gandhi once wrote: "Truth (satya) implies love and firmness (agraha) engenders and therefore serves as a synonym for... force which is born of truth and love or nonviolence." While that definition sounds like a real stretch, its practice worked effectively. Arguably the most famous of Gandhi's acts of non-violent protest was his ultimate action of civil disobedience, the Dandi March. In March 1930, Gandhi and his followers marched to the shore and did the very, very bad thing of taking salt from the water there -- which was a big no-no in British law. The act caused an uproar in society, which was exactly Gandhi's goal. (The only thing better would be if Gandhi ordered a bunch of pizzas in the Queen's name and didn't pay for them.) Gandhi's non-violent strategy was a big hit, so much that it inspired Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. to do the same in the Civil Rights Movement in America decades later.

The story of Gandhi is a long and moving one, most of which is too long to explain here. I'd say if you are interested in learning more about the life of Mahatma Gandhi, go and rent the 1982 movie Gandhi starring Ben Kingsley and directed by Richard Attenborough, who also played the old man in Jurassic Park. I think Attenborough is in the process of working on a sequel to Gandhi called Gandhi Park (working title), in which scientists are able to bring a clone of Gandhi back to life using DNA embedded in a mosquito preserved in amber, so that they can build a theme park around him where he will inevitably show up in his loincloth, chase down park guests and bite their heads off with his bare teeth.

GANDHI'S LEADERSHIP IN THE INDIAN RIGHTS STRUGGLE was praised by men of power all over the world (including Charlie Chaplin). Eventually he pulled enough worldwide support that his work helped bring India its independence. However, not everyone was a big fan of Gandhi. In 1948, an Indian man pretending to bow down to Gandhi in respect after a prayer session, opened fired and shot Gandhi in the heart three times.

"Not since Buddha has India so reverenced any man... Not since St. Francis of Assisi has any life known to history been so marked by gentleness, disinterestedness, simplicity of soul and forgiveness of enemies... We have the astonish phenomenon of a revolution led by a saint." -Will Durant

"He was right, he knew he was right, we all knew he was right. The man who killed him knew he was right. However long the follies of the violent continue, they but prove that Gandhi was right. ...Resist to the very end, he said, but without violence... Of violence the world is sick... Oh, India, dare to be worthy of your Gandhi!" -Pearl S. Buck

Yes, India, dare to be worth of your Gandhi, or his clone will inevitably show up in his loincloth, chase you down and bite your heads off with his bare teeth!

But seriously, what India lost was truly a living saint, a light showing the way according to Jawalarla Nehru. Nehru continues, "...the light that shone in this country for these many years will illumine this country for many more years and a thousand years later that light will still be seen in this country and the world will see it and it will give solace to innumberable [sic] hearts."

This light is represented in the physical form at the Raj Ghat, across the street from the museum, where an eternal flame burned near a simple black slab of marble placed in memory of Gandhi at the very spot he was cremated in 1948. A solemn place where women brought flowers and their husbands brought video cameras, it took much needed attention away from the funny-looking trash bins around the surrounding park.

INSPIRED BY GANDHI'S CIVIL DISOBEDIENCE, I decided to really go against doctor's orders. Feeling that I couldn't spend another day in Delhi "resting," I went ahead and booked a bus ticket to Agra the following morning. That evening I told Dr. Gupta that I really had to leave and couldn't go in for his wound dressing the next day (it was possible he was just dragging it out for more money), so he simply gave me supplies for me to do it myself. It was a good thing he let me go too because if not, I might have chased him down and bitten his head off with my bare teeth.