The Quiet Freedom Within

தமிழில்

It was October 2, 2018 — the day Gandhi was born, and the day Kamaraj, the Black Gandhi of Tamil Nadu — the man I am named after — passed away.

That was the day I landed in India to begin a new chapter of my life.

And it was October 2, 2025 — seven years later — that I returned again on this sacred date.

Seven years of building —

🎬 Filmmaking to tell stories that touch our hearts,

🪶 Writing to express what I value, and

💫 Coaching to help others and myself grow —

all rooted in two inseparable values: Love and Excellence.

To celebrate this journey and to deepen the purity of my intention, I spent October 7, 2025 at Gandhigram, in conversation with Krishnammal Jagannathan, now ninety-nine years old — a woman whose life itself is a living scripture of service and courage.

Gandhigram was founded in 1947 by Dr. T. S. Soundaram and Dr. G. Ramachandran, both inspired by Mahatma Gandhi’s vision of rural self-reliance. Among those who helped bring this dream to life were Sankaralingam Jagannathan and Krishnammal Jagannathan, Gandhian freedom fighters who later dedicated their lives to land reform and the empowerment of rural women. Together, they transformed Gandhigram into a living example of Gandhi’s ideals — where education, dignity of labour, and community welfare came together as one movement for true freedom.

Walking for Freedom

Joining her husband Jagannathan, she walked and walked the lengths and breadths of this land, appealing to the hearts of landlords to donate just two acres each so that poor, oppressed women could live with dignity.

She lived and worked alongside spiritual giants like Vinoba Bhave, who carried Gandhi’s torch of compassion into the villages of India. She told me how Vinoba would wake every morning at 2:10 a.m., offer his prayers, and begin his day-long walk — not to protest, but to appeal to conscience.

When evening came, Krishnammal would plead with him to eat something.

Vinoba would smile and say,

“With the Bhagavad Gita — Lord Krishna’s sacred words — my stomach is so full I feel I might burst. I need no food.”

Then he would go to sleep.

A thin man who never wore footwear in his life, Vinoba Bhave remains one of humanity’s quiet role models for simplicity, humility, and spiritual discipline. Through people like Krishnammal, he planted living seeds of service — not ideas written on paper, but lives that became his message.

These stories usurped my heart and left me wondering:

How could I inherit even a fraction of that simplicity, that integrity?

Acharya Vinoba

Prison, Poverty, and Purpose

She also recollected another incident — one that revealed the quiet cruelty women endured in those times. She spoke about how young girls were married at a tender age, and when a husband died — often before the girl even understood what marriage meant — she would be made a widow for life. These little girls, draped in white garments, would be seated in a corner during family celebrations — forbidden from joy, food, or laughter, as if life itself had ended for them.

Krishnammal shared how her mentor, T. S. Soundaram, worked tirelessly to liberate these child widows from such horror — giving them education, purpose, and the courage to reclaim their dignity. Working with Soundaram, she said, shaped her profoundly — teaching her compassion in action, and the strength it takes to challenge a society’s silence.

T.S Soundaram

She then paused for a moment — her eyes distant, her voice softer — as if reaching back through the corridors of time. She recollected an incident from their years of toil and sacrifice in the freedom struggle, a story etched not in history books but in the bones of those who lived it.

Together with T. S. Soundaram and another woman, she spent five years in prison under British rule — given only one handful of food to share and one small vessel to pass urine among them.

Imagine five years like that — and yet, she emerged not bitter, but luminous with compassion.

She told me something that still echoes in my mind:

“We called it freedom when the British left India. But as long as there is poverty in India, there is no freedom.

If women are given land, they will work their soil, live with honour and dignity, and become self-sufficient.

That’s why I work — and so far, I have been able to secure 1,000 acres of land to enable 500 women to build lives of independence.”

Her words carried no self-importance, only truth. They cut through the noise of modern achievement and reminded me what real freedom looks like — not a political milestone, but a moral one.

Love and Excellence

That truth stayed with me. It reminded me why I made two values the foundation on which all my other values stand — Love and Excellence.

Without Excellence, Love alone can make us kind but powerless — pure hearts without strength.

Without Love, Excellence can turn cold — brilliant minds without compassion.

But when they meet, Love refines our purpose, and Excellence dignifies our effort.

Seven Years Later

Seven years later, I don’t feel accomplished — I feel aligned.

Not louder, but clearer.

Still walking… still learning…

toward a freedom that begins within,

and extends through everything I create.

🎥 A short video from this unforgettable encounter soon.