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SubscribeBaba Amte, a leading social worker who devoted his life to the care and rehabilitation of leprosy patients, passed away today.
Murlidhar Devidas Amte, popularly known as ‘Baba Amte’ (’baba’ is a honorific and his last name is pronounced as Am’tay) was born on December 1914 in Vidharbha, Maharashtra, India in a wealthy family. Educated with a law degree, he setup a successful practice in Warora, and was leading a very prosperous life. One one rainy day, he saw a leper on the street getting drenched in rain and left helpless. Baba Amte thought to himself - ‘What would have happened if I was in his position?‘ This little incident was enough to cause a paradigm shift in his perception of society. The well educated rich professional simply quit his practice and decided to dedicate his life to the cause of social justice.
Leprosy was/is probably the most damned disease in India. Plenty of myths and orthodox beliefs existed around leprosy patients. As a result, they were (and still are to some extent) subjected to severe social boycott and condemnation. Baba Amte devoted his life for the cause of the leprosy affected, even allowing his body to be used for medical experiments. With 14 Rupees, two cows and a makeshift building, Baba Amte and his wife established a community project at Anandwan (आनंद वन abode of happiness) near the woods of Nagpur, Maharashtra, central India.
Today Anandvan is recognised all over the world and has led the crusade for dispelling prejudice against leprosy in India. It has a sprawling campus of 180 hectors and runs a budget of millions of Rupees. Thousands of patients live in this colony.
This is one of his compositions that touches my heart. (I’d be thrilled if someone can translate, I can’t)
Update: Ash has translated the first paragraph, and Devendra has translated the entire poem. Checkout the comments section, thanks guys 
A picture that speaks more than a thousand words.
“Joy is more infectious than leprosy”
- Baba Amte
माणूस माझे नाव, माणूस माझे नाव…
दहा दिशांच्या रिंगणात या पुढे माझी धाव…
बिंदु मात्र मी क्षुद्र खरोखर,
परी जिंकले सातहि सागर,
उंच गाठला गौरीशंकर
अग्नीयान मम घेत चालले आकाशाचा ठाव…
मीच इथे ओसाडावरती,
नांगर धरुनी दुबळ्या हाती,
कणकण ही जागवली माती
दुर्भिक्ष्याच्या छाताडावर हसत घातला घाव…
ही शेते अन् ही सुखसदने,
घुमते यातून माझे गाणे,
रोज आळवित नवे तराणे
मी दैन्याच्या विरुद्ध करतो क्षण क्षण नवा उठाव…
सुखेच माझी मला बोचती,
साहसास मम सीमा नसती,
नवीन क्षितिजे सदा खुणवती
दूर दाट निबिडात मांडला पुन्हा नवा मी डाव…
[संग्रह: ज्वाला आणि फुले]
प्रियांक: अतिशय सुंदर विषयाबद्दल लिहिलंय तू. I can try to translate first paragraph….
In this battlefield over 10 directions, here I come,
I might be an insignificant point,
but I have held victory over the seven seas,
and conquered tall peaks
On a rocket, here I leap towards the sky..
I hope this matches roughly to what he say.
Ash:
मला हे कधीच् जमलं नसतं… धन्यवाद!
I think thats pretty close
That touching picture of a disabled hand holding a small bunch of flowers does indeed speak a thousand words.
You have paid a fitting tribute to one of India’s most respected and loved social leaders.
Celine:
So true, the picture is hovering in my mind since yesterday
Priyank, was pleasantly surprised to see your blog excerpted in the bloggers’ section in the TOI Ahmmedabad edn this morning, I think they even picked the picture featured here.Have u seen it?
Trisha:
What? Thats a surprise to me too! Thanks so much Trisha, hopefully you have retained a copy of the newspaper! this is cool
The picture truly speaks out everything.
Baba Amte was a saint of modern india!
Who else would give away life of comfort for doing social good?
Keep posting!
I have yet to read the israel posts, though
Deven:
Dude, paste the translation man, stop being shy
Here is my version of translation. It sounds a little dry and too literal.
My name is human! My name is human!
My playfield extends beyond ten directions
I may be an insignificant dot,
but I have conquered the seven seas
I have scaled the mighty mountains.
My fire-driven vehicle is taking me into the heart of the sky
I alone holding the plough with my weak hands;
have created life on this deserted barren land
I while laughing have striked the heart/thaav of scarcity
My song echoes through these farms and happy homes
singing new tarana every day
I lead new uprisings every day against grief/poverty
My happiness pricks me
My bravery has no bounds
New horizons signal me
I have again created a new world in far and dense/nibid land
Deven:
Thanks buddy, I know your Marathi language skills are way better than mine. But the translation does sound a little funny
This composition is about the achievements of human beings.
i regret not chkg out ur blog on feb 13
this is worth going into the list
ill add it now
[...] 9. Priyank on the passing of the great mahatma Baba Amte. [...]
Prax:
Thanks for the mention on your blog