Harivansh Rai Bachchan, the doyen of Hindi poetry, crafted ‘Madhushala’—a symphony of 135 quatrains that became a cultural phenomenon. Released amid pre-independence fervor, the book sold out instantly. But whispers of doubt soon followed: Could a man who shunned alcohol immortalize its haze so vividly? This question ignited a literary storm, resolved only when Gandhi lent his moral authority.
Raised in a modest Kayastha family, Bachchan’s intellect blossomed early. A gold medalist in English, he immersed in Urdu poetry under the tutelage of Hali. ‘Madhushala’ drew from Omar Khayyam’s Rubaiyat, blending Eastern mysticism with universal longing. Saaki (waiter), madhushala (wine house), and pyaala (cup) symbolized existence’s fleeting pleasures.
Opponents, often puritanical voices, challenged Bachchan’s credentials. ‘Nasha shabdon ka tha’—his intoxication was of words alone, they mocked. The poet, devoted to his wife Pratibha and Gandhian ideals, never indulged in vice. Public debates raged in newspapers and mushairas.
The turning point came in 1935. At a prayer meeting, Gandhi addressed the furor. Having read the poem, he saw beyond literal wine to philosophical depths. ‘It teaches renunciation, not indulgence,’ Bapu affirmed, quashing doubts. Bachchan later recounted this in his memoirs, grateful for the saintly validation.
Beyond the controversy, Bachchan enriched Hindi with ‘Agnipath’ and film songs. His centenary celebrations reaffirm ‘Madhushala’s’ timeless appeal. In an era of literalism, Bachchan reminds us: Great art needs no personal vice; imagination suffices.
