Ram Prasad Bismil's autobiography debunks some of the myths around the daredevil image of youthful freedom fighters

Ram Prasad Bismil's autobiography debunks some of the myths around the daredevil image of youthful freedom fighters

- Aditya Mani Jha

Only weeks ago, reporters covering state-level Delhi politics were filling column inches about a storm-in-a-teacup controversy. The Aam Aadmi Party, recently removed from power following the assembly elections, claimed that the new victors, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), had removed a portrait of the revolutionary Bhagat Singh from the chief minister's office. The BJP replied with a quick denial and hastily shot video rebuttals. To the unschooled observer, it might seem strange that circa 2025, Indian politicians are devoting so much time to the symbolic significance of Bhagat Singh. But that's the grip on the imagination that Bhagat Singh and the other revolutionaries of that era like Chandra Shekhar Azad, Sukhdev Thapar and Shivaram Rajguru, among others, continue to have.

I was powerfully reminded of this phenomenon while reading A Glimpse of My Life by Ram Prasad "Bismil" (1897-1927), translated into English by Awadhesh Tripathi (the original Hindi memoir is called Nij Jeevan ki ek Chhata). The book is a part of the "Chronicles" series of Indian nonfiction conceived by the Ashoka Centre for Translation at Ashoka University. Bismil was a poet, writer, translator and front-line revolutionary involved in the famous Kakori train robbery of 9 August 1925 alongside the likes of Azad, Ashfaqullah Khan and Rajendra Lahiri. The group looted bags full of tax money collected by the British government from a train travelling from Shahjahanpur to Lucknow. Years later Bismil was captured, convicted and eventually hanged for his role in the operation.

A Glimpse of My Life presents his life story in a linear, largely chronological order. The book begins from his childhood in Tomarghat village near Gwalior, the midsection moves on to his youth and revolutionary exploits in the 1920s, and the final section is a kind of manifesto-cum-prison-diary, peppered with occasional verses of both mystic and nationalistic poetry.