Awakening of India - 1947

Delhi – Prime Minister's Office, South Block – 9th April 1948

Parikh had already begun sliding his papers into his briefcase when Arjun's voice stopped him cold.

"Oh…and Narahari-ji, I intend to make the education mandatory till the age of 14 by the 1950, throughout the entire nation", Arjun casually said.

The words hung in the air like smoke from a pistol shot. Narahari D. Parikh 's hands stilled on his briefcase clasp, his mind racing through the implications.

Slowly, he turned back to face the Prime Minister, his spectacles catching the late afternoon light streaming through the windows.

"Huh? Compulsory education?" His voice barely rose above a whisper. "For every child in India?"

Arjun nodded as if he'd just mentioned the weather. "Every child. Male, female, Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Christian, Jain, etc – from the villages of Bihar to the streets of Bombay. Free of charge until their fourteenth birthday."

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The Education Minister sank back into his chair, overwhelmed. "Prime Minister, the scale... we're talking about nearly a hundred million children. The infrastructure alone would require tens of thousands of new schools, hundreds of thousands of teachers. The cost..."

"It would be enormous, yes," Arjun agreed, walking to his desk and pulling out a leather folder. "Which is why it won't be charity."

He opened the folder, revealing pages of calculations and projections written in his precise handwriting.

"This will be an investment, Narahari-ji. The nation will invest in its children's minds, and those children – once they're earning – invest back in the nation. A National Education Duty, if you will."

Parikh leaned forward, studying the figures. "You mean...repayment?"

"A modest percentage of their earnings once they're employed. Not a tax – a civic duty. The generation that benefits from free education supports the education of the next generation."

Arjun's finger traced down a column of numbers. "It creates a self-sustaining cycle. Within twenty years, the system funds itself."

The Minister pushed his spectacles up his nose, a nervous habit from his university days. "The administrative complexity...tracking every student through their entire working life, ensuring compliance..."

"They will be handled by the expanded civil service, and two years should be enough for it."

Arjun moved to the window, gazing out at the government complex where thousands of clerks and bureaucrats were already processing the massive changes he'd set in motion.

"The Home Ministry's new oversight bureaus will maintain records, coordinate with employers, ensure collection. We'll use the same networks we're building for the other reforms."

A thought struck Parikh. "What about families who depend on their children's labor? Rural areas where boys help with farming, girls with household work?"

Arjun turned from the window, his expression thoughtful. "That's where the American agricultural assistance becomes crucial. Mechanization, improved seeds, fertilizers – they'll reduce the need for child labor while increasing yields.

And we'll time the school calendar around planting and harvest seasons where necessary."

He returned to his desk, pulling out another document. "Look at these projections, Minister. A fully literate population by 1970. Every citizen with basic numeracy, scientific understanding, civic knowledge. Imagine the workforce we'll have for our industrial expansion."

Parikh studied the numbers, his academic mind beginning to grasp the vision's scope. "The social transformation would be record-breaking. But there is bound to be a push-back...parents who see no value in education, regional leaders who prefer an ignorant populace..."

"Their objections will be resolved." Arjun's tone carried quiet steel.

"This isn't optional, Minister. Education after a year will be a legal requirement, just like paying taxes. Parents who refuse to send their children to school will face penalties – fines initially, then more serious consequences."

The Minister shifted uncomfortably. "That seems harsh."

"Building a modern nation requires harsh choices." Arjun walked to the map on his wall, tracing India's borders with his finger.

"Look at the Western powers. Their prosperity wasn't built through endless debate and voluntary compliance. Strong central authority, disciplined implementation of social reforms, investment in human capital – that's how nations rise."

He turned back to Parikh. "True Democracy is a luxury for countries that have already achieved development and unity. India can't afford that luxury yet. We need rapid transformation, unified purpose, and disciplined progress."

The Education Minister gathered his papers again, his mind reeling with the magnitude of what he'd been asked to implement.

He hesitated a bit before saying, "Prime Minister, since we're already discussing such far-reaching changes, I have a request of my own. I'd like to propose a reform in our education system—one that finally gives Indians the truth they've long been denied."

He leaned forward slightly, voice steady.

"Be it our history, the contributions of our ancestors in Science and Mathematics, or even the language itself — all of it was distorted or erased under British rule. It's time we correct that. Our children deserve to learn the truth about their own civilization."

Arjun was surprised to hear that. Or well, he didn't expect such request of massive overhaul from someone like him or even the rest of the ministers in his cabinet. Not because he looked down on them, but because of the magnitude of education reform itself.

"Actually, Narahari-ji, I had already intended to do these changes later on, but now that you have brought up this topic, how about we do this instead.

When you will present me with the prepared report on how to implement this mandatory education, I'll give you a draft for the necessary education changes, you can review them, and afterwards, we can implement those education reform with immediate effect."

Parikh eyes brightened when he heard this. "That would be the best, Prime Minister. When do you want the implementation report?"

"Let's see….after 3 weeks. It should be enough time to prepare a comprehensive report.

Include everything – school construction schedules, teacher recruitment and training, curriculum standardization, record-keeping systems, enforcement mechanisms. Also, you don't always need a concrete walls to teach children.

For rural areas, I want you to coordinate with Rafi Ahmed-ji" Arjun's voice carried the weight of absolute authority.

"And remember, Minister – this isn't just about literacy. We're shaping the consciousness of a generation. Every child who passes through our schools will think like an Indian first, understand their duty to the nation above all else."

The door closed with a soft click as Parikh left, leaving Arjun alone with his thoughts.

Even the most determined gardener started with seeds, nurturing them through seasons of growth until they became something beautiful and productive.

He was planting seeds too – in the minds of millions of children who would grow up knowing only the India he was creating.

They would learn to read using textbooks that celebrated national unity. They would absorb, through a thousand small lessons, the understanding that their prosperity depended on the nation's strength, their freedom on its unity.

And when they became adults – teachers, farmers, factory workers, civil servants – they would pass those same values to their own children, creating an endless cycle of loyalty and purpose that no amount of external pressure could break.