Tanguturi Prakasam

Told in English, Telugu.

Come and sit close, my dear. Tonight's story is not made up. It is about a real man, born in our own Andhra land, a man so brave that people called him a lion. His name was Tanguturi Prakasam, and everyone lovingly called him Prakasam Pantulu.

He was born in the year 1872, in a small village near Ongole. His family was not rich. When Prakasam was still a young boy, his father passed away. It was a very sad time. His mother, Subbamma, had to find a way to feed her children all by herself.

So what did she do? She opened a small eating house, where travellers and students could come and eat a good meal. She cooked from early morning till late at night. Some people in those days looked down on a woman from a respected family running such a place. They whispered and they gossiped. But Subbamma did not care. She held her head high, because honest work is never something to be ashamed of.

Little Prakasam watched his mother. He saw her tired hands and her strong heart. And somewhere deep inside him, a lesson was planted: you do what is right, and you do not bow down just because people talk.

Now, Prakasam was a lively, clever boy, but he was also a bit naughty and did not always care for his books. Then a kind teacher named Immaneni Hanumantha Rao Naidu noticed him. This teacher saw something special in the boy. He guided him, encouraged him, and later took him along to Rajahmundry so he could study further. Prakasam also loved drama, and he acted in plays with great feeling. Can you imagine young Prakasam on a stage, speaking his lines loudly so the whole hall could hear? That strong voice would one day speak for millions.

Prakasam studied law and became a lawyer in Rajahmundry. He worked hard, and the people of that town respected him so much that they made him the chairman of the town's municipality. But Prakasam had a bigger dream. He wanted to go all the way to England to become a barrister, a lawyer who could argue cases in the high courts.

In those days, travelling across the sea to a faraway land was a very big thing. His mother worried. Would her son forget his ways in that strange country? So Prakasam made her a promise. He promised that in England he would not drink alcohol, would not smoke, and would not eat meat. And do you know, he kept that promise every single day he was there. A promise to your mother is a promise you keep.

He came back a barrister and began working in Madras, in the High Court. He was brilliant. He won case after case. Rich clients came to him, and soon Prakasam was earning a great deal of money. He had a big house, fine things, and a comfortable life. Many people would have been happy to stop right there.

But India at that time was not free. The British ruled our country, and Indians were not treated fairly in their own land. Mahatma Gandhi had called on Indians to stop cooperating with British rule. He asked lawyers to leave the British courts, students to leave government schools, and everyone to stand together peacefully for freedom.

Now Prakasam had to make a choice. Think about it, my dear. If you had a big house and lots of money and a job everyone admired, would you give it all up? It was not an easy question. But Prakasam thought of his country, and he thought of his mother standing strong while people whispered. And he decided.

In 1921, he gave up his rich law practice and joined the freedom movement. He started a newspaper called Swarajya, which means self-rule. Through its pages, he told people the truth about what was happening and gave them courage. He spent his own money on the freedom struggle, again and again, until much of his fortune was gone. He never regretted it.

Now comes the part of the story that made him famous all over India.

In 1928, a group of British officials called the Simon Commission came to India. They were supposed to decide how India would be governed. But here is the strange thing: there was not a single Indian in that group. How could people decide India's future without even asking Indians? So all over the country, people protested. They carried black flags and shouted, "Simon, go back!"

In Madras, a big crowd gathered. The police were there with guns. Things became tense and frightening, and the police fired. A man in the crowd was hit and fell. People were scared. Prakasam wanted to go forward to help and to see what had happened. A policeman pointed a gun at him and told him to stop, or he would be shot.

What would you have done? Most people would have stepped back. But Prakasam did something nobody expected. He pulled open his shirt, showed his bare chest, and said, in his big strong voice, that if they wanted to shoot, they should shoot him.

Everyone held their breath. The policeman looked at this fearless man standing there with no weapon at all, only his courage. And the policeman lowered his gun. He did not shoot.

The news spread like wildfire from town to town and village to village. People said, "Did you hear what Prakasam did? He stood before the guns like a lion!" And from then on, he was called Andhra Kesari, the Lion of Andhra.

The freedom struggle was long. Prakasam was sent to jail more than once, but he never gave up. He also cared deeply about farmers and poor village people. When he became the revenue minister of the Madras Presidency in 1937, he worked to help the farmers who were struggling under unfair land systems. In 1946, he became the Premier, which means the head of the government, of the whole Madras Presidency.

At last, in 1947, India became free. But the Telugu people had another wish. They wanted a state of their own, where Telugu was the language of the land. After a long struggle, in 1953, the new Andhra State was born, with Kurnool as its capital. And who do you think became its very first Chief Minister? Yes, our Lion of Andhra, Tanguturi Prakasam.

He was over eighty years old by then, but his heart was still young and full of fire for his people.

Prakasam Pantulu passed away in 1957, in Hyderabad. He had once been a very rich man, but he had given so much to his country that he did not leave great wealth behind. What he left was something far more precious: an example of courage and honesty. To honour him, the district around Ongole, where he was born, is now called Prakasam district.

So, my dear, the next time you feel afraid to stand up for something right, or the next time people whisper and tease, remember the boy who watched his brave mother, the man who kept his promise across the sea, and the lion who opened his shirt before the guns. Can you say his name with me? Andhra Kesari, Tanguturi Prakasam.

Now close your eyes, little lion, and sleep well.