Kandukuri Veeresalingam

Told in English, Telugu.

Close your eyes for a moment and picture the great Godavari river, wide and shining, flowing past the old town of Rajahmundry. Boats drift slowly on the water. Temple bells ring in the morning. Children run along the steps of the ghats. In this town, on the sixteenth of April in the year 1848, a baby boy was born. His name was Kandukuri Veeresalingam.

His childhood was not an easy one. When he was only about four years old, his father, Subbarayudu, passed away. Can you imagine how quiet and sad the house must have felt? But little Veeresalingam was not alone. His mother, Purnamma, loved him deeply, and his uncle helped to look after him. His mother wanted one thing more than anything else for her son. She wanted him to learn.

And oh, how he loved to learn. He read Telugu poems, and later he went to school and learned English too. He was a thin boy and often unwell, but his mind was strong and curious. He did not simply accept things because people said, this is how it has always been. He would think, and think, and ask himself, is this fair? Is this kind? Is this true?

Now, to understand why Veeresalingam became a hero, you need to know what life was like for many girls in those days. More than a hundred and fifty years ago, many girls were married when they were still very small children. Many were not sent to school at all. People said reading and writing were not for girls.

And there was something even sadder. Sometimes a little girl's husband would fall ill and die. Then that girl, even if she was only eight or ten years old, was called a widow for the rest of her life. In many families she was not allowed to marry again. She had to give up bright saris, flowers in her hair and happy festivals. She was often treated as if her life had no more joy left in it. She had done nothing wrong at all, yet she had to live with sorrow.

When Veeresalingam grew up and saw this, his heart ached. He thought, these are children. They are somebody's daughters, somebody's sisters. Why should their lives be filled with tears because of a custom? Many people around him felt the same pain quietly, but very few dared to say it out loud. Veeresalingam decided he would not stay quiet.

He himself had been married young, as was the custom, to a girl named Bapamma, who later came to be known as Rajyalakshmi. As they grew up together, she became his true partner in everything he did. Remember her name, because she was brave too, and without her, his work would have been much harder.

Veeresalingam became a teacher. He taught in villages like Korangi and Dhavaleswaram, and then in Rajahmundry itself. A teacher, he believed, does not only teach lessons from books. A teacher helps people see the world more clearly. So he did something that was very unusual for his time. In 1874, in Dhavaleswaram, he started a school for girls. Some people laughed. Some grumbled. But little girls came, sat down with their slates, and began to write their letters. Imagine the shine in their eyes as they read their very first words.

That same year, he started a magazine called Viveka Vardhini. Through it, he wrote about things that were wrong in society. He wrote against officials who took bribes. He wrote against superstitions that hurt people. He wrote about why girls should study. His pen was his sword, but a sword that cut away darkness instead of hurting anyone. Some powerful people became very angry with him. They did not like a teacher pointing at their mistakes. But he kept writing, because he believed the truth should be told.

Veeresalingam studied old books carefully, and he argued that nothing truly good and kind could forbid a young widow from marrying again. He gave speeches. He wrote essays. Slowly, some people began to listen, especially young students who admired him.

But speaking is one thing, and doing is another. He knew that one day, a real wedding had to take place. Someone had to be brave enough to go first.

That day came on the eleventh of December, 1881, in Rajahmundry. A young widow named Gowramma was married to a young man named Gogulapati Sreeramulu. It was the first widow remarriage that Veeresalingam arranged, and it caused a huge stir. Many people were furious. Some shouted angry words. Some refused to speak to him or his family. Some even threatened him. Think about how that must have felt. Your own neighbours turning their faces away from you. People whispering about you wherever you go.

Did he feel afraid? Perhaps he did. Being brave does not mean you never feel fear. It means you do what is right even with fear sitting in your heart. Veeresalingam was not completely alone. His students and a few good friends stood beside him and helped the wedding happen. And Rajyalakshmi stood beside him too. She welcomed the young brides into their home and cared for them like a mother, even when other women in the town would not.

After that first wedding, more followed. Year by year, more young widows were given a second chance at a happy life. Veeresalingam also set up a home where widows could live safely, with dignity and hope. He spent his own money on this work, money that he could easily have kept for himself and lived comfortably. He chose to give it away.

But there is another side to him that I must tell you about, because he was not only a reformer. He was also a wonderful writer. In those days, most Telugu writing was in poetry, full of grand old words that ordinary people found hard to understand. Veeresalingam wanted to write so that everyone could read and enjoy. He wrote a story called Rajasekhara Charitramu, which is often called one of the very first novels in the Telugu language. He wrote plays, essays, books for children and science books. He even wrote the story of his own life, Sweeya Charitramu, one of the first autobiographies in Telugu. Because he did so much for Telugu prose, people lovingly called him Gadya Tikkana. Can you say it with me? Gadya Tikkana. Just as the great poet Tikkana is honoured for his poetry, Veeresalingam was honoured for his prose.

Later in his life, he moved to Madras, which we now call Chennai, where he taught Telugu at Presidency College. He also founded a society called the Hitakarini Samajam and gave it his property, so that his good work for women and education could continue long after he was gone.

In 1910, his dear wife Rajyalakshmi passed away. They had walked side by side through so many storms. It was a great sorrow for him, and he missed her deeply. But he carried on with the work they had shared. Kandukuri Veeresalingam passed away in Madras on the twenty seventh of May, 1919.

Today, more than a hundred years later, his name is remembered with love across Andhra Pradesh. Statues of him stand in towns, and schools and roads carry his name. But his greatest monument is not made of stone. It lives in every girl who goes to school with her bag on her shoulder. It lives in every woman who is treated with respect and kindness. It lives in every person who sees something unfair and says, gently but firmly, this must change.

So tonight, before you sleep, think about this. Is there something around you that does not seem fair? Maybe a friend left out of a game, or someone being teased? You do not need a magazine or a school of your own to be a little like Veeresalingam. You only need a kind heart, a thinking mind, and a little bit of courage. Sleep well, my brave one.