Uniformed students linger around the gate of the quaint two-storey bungalow and a clerk in the office tells us at least a thousand Indian students must have visited the place that morning, but then this was what he called a “special day” — August 9. “Some (the schools) wanted to visit August Kranti Maidan too but there was some political lafda on the grounds,” he adds with a tired wave.

Circa: 1942
There was a different brand of political lafda at the same Maidan in 1942. Mahatma Gandhi had launched the Quit India Movement here at midnight and colonial authorities reacted by arresting every prominent Indian leader, within a couple of hours of Gandhi's announcement. On August 9, the Maidan and the roads around Mani Bhavan were flooded with crowds, keen to know about their leaders’ future and unsure of the fate of the ambitious movement; unsure, in fact, of their own future and India’s future. The sight of the police force around them offered little comfort — the police answered to the government and at the time the government was not “for the people.” The atmosphere must have been tense but this grey gloom and cold silence was shattered by Aruna Asaf Ali, a woman in her early thirties, who boldly hoisted the Swaraj flag at the Maidan. The brave gesture sparked off chaos. A lathi charge and tear gas strikes ensued. Police officers pulled the flag down and beat volunteers up who went to its rescue.

Walk down memory lane
This account, complete with photographs is available on the Mani Bhavan website, but as you walk through the pristine museum, it’s almost impossible to imagine that all of this transpired right around this spot for the passion that must have pulsated through this landmark is now replaced by a deep deferential silence. Though this property belonged to Revashankar Jagjeevan Jhaveri, a Gujarati gentleman and friend of Gandhiji, Mani Bhavan served as the headquarters of the Indian National Congress from 1917 to 1934. In 1932, Gandhiji was arrested on its terrace, the Satyagraha against the Rowlatt Act was initiated here and even a simple display plainly marked, “Jail Supplies,” which holds a pewter cup and platter would send a chill down the spine of anyone who’s read a history book, yet neither the records it contains nor the history this building has seen are enough to induce Indians to visit it.