Delhi, India
By Mansi Thapliyal
"I am Gandhi!" he says firmly. "His soul resides inside me," he announces, smiling unwaveringly.
I stare blankly at the man who is wearing a dhoti wrapped around his waist, thick black oval glasses and carrying a cane just like Mahatma Gandhi.
Two weeks ago, I called this man asking to meet him and he politely told me not to say "hello."
"Hello is a word used by the British and is a legacy left by our colonial masters," he said. Instead he insisted I say the Hindi phrase "vande mataram", meaning "I bow to thee my mother".
After fixing a time to meet, I reached his house not knowing what to expect. To my surprise I discovered that he lived in a room, above a public toilet, given to him by one of his followers on the outskirts of Delhi. In it, he leads a simple life, just like Gandhi, cooking for himself, doing his daily prayers and reading the Bhagavad Gita, Hinduism's holy book which inspired Gandhi's teachings.






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