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Hitler and my grandfather


The year was 1933. My grandfather, a man of stately demeanour, stepped out of his brilliantly camouflaged straw walled and thatched roof hut. A majestic brown dog, sneezing heavily, pawing his rear feet in the mud behind him, rushed to meet his master who paid no attention to the creature’s servility. Rapping the slightly torn white dhoti in the morning mist, he proceeded to wear it with diligent care. He was an ascetic of daily chores, his short trimmed moustache beamed with military dogma; his neighbours, mostly paunched men, did not care to see the principled man, they saw a peasant. And peasant he was, with a dog that wailed and wilfully pranced around the master all day long.

In 1933’s Germany, Hitler was promising to cleanse the German body of Semitic veins. through the streets of desolation and despair, rose anarchic voices of dissent. Hitler, a talismanic man of utilitarian principles, promised the unemployed, food and shelter. His supporters were the middle class, he proffered work on the empty streets of Berlin. Political drivel, he bethought, and abolished trade unions. Organized unions were flushed into the trade sinks. By Christmas, within an year, he had all the concentration camps filled with Jews.

It was terribly cold outside. Grandfather was now in his early thirties, his furrowed forehead ached under the deplorable insult that washed the walls of his conscience black. His battered conscience puckered the black paint and through the cracks flew a viscous fluid of agony. His dog drooled saintly over a frog he thumped effortlessly under his paws. Grandfather gazed at the sun as it poured out in an angelic fervour on his neighbours’ homes. That land belonged to him. on the banks of Musi, where he laboured and witnessed his fathers wriggle through the tough omniscient shadow leaden rule of British Raj, were now the authorities. Orders were issued and the land was now his neighbours’.

By the June 1934, Hitler, in his irreparable angst, had his political counterparts shot dead under dubious proclamations of acts of treason. By the year 1936, the Fuhrer, Adolf Hitler was reflecting upon a well measured gaze of the rest of the world. Driving through the Autobahn, laid out by the workers who were otherwise unemployed before Hitler, he retrofitted German conscience with arcane ideas. And the German conscience swelled in pain of the lost glory.

Grandfather gathered support for a dissidence that he reckoned was imminent. The homeless saw a vision of ancient glory proffered on them. Soon they all promised obedience to the cause that my grandfather was about to step on. One morning, in the summer of 1934, under the great duress of pent up emotions, he let his dog loose on the neighbour who was out for a morning walk.

September 1, 1939, Hitler invaded Poland.
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