A Revolution Begins

On my way to class this morning, my eyes fell upon this book on Guevara that I had borrowed from a senior of mine sometime last year, but never gotten around to reading. Now, I've never been much of a non-fiction person, but after a really good experience with M.J. Akbar's book on Nehru (The making of India, I believe) and more importantly, considering I now own a blog called "Viva la Revolucion", I guess that's one book I should read. Nevertheless, at the time, I merely picked it up and ran off to class, for which I was, once again, late.

Here, I would like to deviate for a bit and admit my guilt as to not utilizing the facilities that are available to us students, one of them being decent lectures. Undeniably, our college is facing severe crises in terms of quality professors, but we still do have some lectures that are worth listening to. Unfortunately, a short attention span, combined with a compulsion to always be doing something, means that I never know what's happening in class. This should change. I state it here, so that I know that I am bound.

For now, however, we must return to the book I am reading. It contains a small chronological sequence of all important dates and events in Che Guevara's life. And I cannot believe that someone like him was murdered, while the entire international community simply stood by and watched. [Though I am reminded of another free man's words of wisdom "If you kill another, you must be prepared to be killed yourself." (Fictional, perhaps, but wise nevertheless.)] I don't think I'll say more on the subject just yet, though.

You know, I don't know why I chose the title 'Viva La Revolucion' for my blog. The road that led me here was a completely different one, revolving around freedom, and a recurring love for Italy. And anarchy. It was about music, and rage, and the need to understand.

But, now, the words are beginning to speak to me again. And I am already hooked into this book that seems to whisper directly to my blood that it was just waiting for me to be ready.

You know, people always say that Che would be really depressed if he saw these rich little kids with their capitalist-consumerist attitudes, running around wearing his highly commercialized face on T-shirts and bandanas.

But, I don't think that he would really mind. He wouldn't, because he believed mostly in freedom. And I understand what he wanted; just soldiers to take his position on the lines. For one to be so dedicated, one needs to be inspired. And to be inspired, one needs to hear and know about people who have attempted the crystallization of the sort of dreams that you cannot even wholly comprehend. For every person who hears the story of Che consumes a spark that may just ignite into a roaring fire. And revolutions need all the flame they can muster.

It seems too strong a pull to be just coincidence. I know I shouldn't think like this, but I can feel that familiar tightness in my heart, as if I were preparing for a struggle that were inevitable. I would ignore the feeling, if it were not for the chance discovery I made of Nelson Mandela's words about Che Guevara, when he referred to him as "an inspiration for every human being who loves freedom".

I love Freedom, Mr. Che.

Inspire me?


P.S. It's impressive that even blogger's spell check knows that Guevara is *not* a spelling mistake. Way to go, Che! Viva la revolucion!