The Rediff Special/George Iype

'I fought for the country's freedom and in the process, lost all my family. Today I am alone and neglected by all, even the government!'

The venue: No 7, Race Course Road. The man: Prime Minister Inder Kumar Gujral. The occasion: that essential for real democracy -- to wit, interaction between the 'ruler' and the 'ruled'.

Thus, for close to three hours on Friday morning, Gujral listened, with exemplary patience, to 550 citizens who had come from across the country, seeking a solution to their ills.

And the man at the helm of an India just a week away from celebrating her 50th anniversary of Independence, despite 'the tyranny' of his appointment diary, patiently listened to the old, the poor, the blind, the crippled, the disposessed, the oppressed.

Most of them came with letters of complaint -- freedom fighters who had not got their pensions, a blind boy who had been denied admission in a school for the visually handicapped, a husband whose wife had allegedly been raped by the police, a cripple whose family is dying of salvation...

There was, about it, something of the air of the durbars of old -- when the janta brought their woes to the king, in hope of instant redress. There was, too, the structured informality of a democracy -- the people thronged the prime ministerial bungalow, and the Special Protection Group contented itself with mustering them into orderly lines in front of the pre-fabricated tent on the lawns of No 7, in which Gujral waited for them.

The complainants -- and their tales -- provided a cross section of section of India that rarely gets the attention of the politicians and the media. Vide 78-year-old D C Goel, a retired central government employee, who has been receiving a family pension of Rs 16 per month, for the last 20 years. Goel tells Gujral that his pension is actually Rs 716. A clerical error has reduced it to Rs 16. Can Mr Gujral help, please?

The prime minister takes the petition, signs it, assures Goel that from this month on, he will receive his due. Exit one contented citizen.

There is 38-year-old Manjit Singh, crawling towards the tent, wincing with the pain of a right leg infected with gangrene. Singh's wife has deserted him, he lacks money for treatment, also to support his ageing parents.

Law Minister Ramakant Khalap interrupts, to discuss some crucial issue with his prime minister. Gujral disappears for 15 minutes, then returns to continue the darbar.

"I fought for the country's freedom and in the process, lost all my family," Trilochan Singh Dwivedi, all of 90 years old, tells him. "Today I am alone and neglected by all, even the government!" Gujral promises succour and, summoning up an SPG commando, instructs him to ensure that Dwivedi has a good breakfast before he leaves for home.

A young lad from Bihar demands police protection for self and family -- hoodlums owing allegiance to Laloo Prasad Yadav have, the lad says, sworn to exterminate the family. Gujral, for once, has no immediate solution to offer.

Lal Bahadur Singh, of western Uttar Pradesh, weeps over the plight of his wife, raped brutally, and repeatedly, by local policemen last month. Repeated complaints to UP Chief Minister Mayawati have not produced redress, Singh weeps. Gujral refers the petition to D S Rastogi, director of the grievance cell, to "do the needful."

Not that everyone has a grouse, mind. Forty-year-old Keshava Murugan has travelled all the way from Tamil Nadu just so he can wish Gujral on the 50th anniversary of India's Independence, and persuade the prime minister to pose for a photograph.

Three hours later, the prime minister rises. His interaction with his fellow citizens is at an end, at least for this Friday -- and it is time for the head of the country's government to go back to a more macrocosmic view of governance.