“10:37 AM,” my watch panicked. I had to get to
Dom Zhurnalistov (Journalists’ House) on Nikitsky Bulvar by 11:00 AM for a round table conference, where former Soviet President
Mikhail Gorbachev was to celebrate his 80th birthday. And there I was - among Bolshaya Nikitskaya, Malaya Nikitskaya and Nikitskie Vorota - completely lost. When it comes to directions, I’m not the most gifted person so I don’t harbor any illusions of DIY miracles. But I had already asked a few people and they had sent me all over the place.
The sight of 10:42 AM restored my faith in external help. Luckily, the guy in the next restaurant knew where I had to go…and I ran like the wind, mentally patting myself on the back for keeping my heels in my bag and wearing shoes instead. (I’m quite used to this last minute running and try to make it as painless as possible!)
10:53 AM – I was there! Phew! I walked upstairs to the hall where the conference was to take place and met Lilia Shevtsova at the entrance.
“Are you ok?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said, realizing that I probably still looked a little ruffled.
“Are these flowers for him?” Lilia asked looking at the bouquet of orange-yellow chrysanthemums I was carrying. I nodded.
As I entered the hall, I scanned the table to see where Mikhail Gorbachev would probably sit and parked myself on a seat with the best 'view.' As I caught my breath, I finally had a chance to put everything together. Everything I was carrying had a little story behind it…
…In anticipation of this meeting Marzia, my fellow intern at the Carnegie Moscow Center suggested that we should buy “Gorby’s” books so he can sign them. What a brilliant idea! Except the night before the event, I realized that it wasn’t so easy. Moskva on Tverskaya that has the biggest collection had nothing to offer – all sold-out because of Gorbachev’s birthday on 2nd March. Sadly, Moscow’s largest bookstore Bilblio Globus was already closed for the day so I just bought a birthday card at Moskva and headed to Respublika when my flatmate Ira told me that it’s open 24x7. As luck would have it, no Gorby books there either.
“Perhaps you would like to buy Harper's Bazaar. There’s a full interview of Gorbachev in there,” the shop-assistant suggested.
Beggars can’t be choosers so I played along…till I saw the cover. Call me old-fashioned but I wasn’t going to have Gorbachev sign a magazine with a half-naked woman on its cover!
Biblio Globus – located next to FSB (former KGB) headquarters - was my last hope. It was my first time at Lubyanka metro station and as I went up the escalator, I remembered that
Alexander Solzhenitsyn and millions of other Soviet people had gone up the same escalator to be questioned and tortured by the KGB and to be subsequently thrown into Soviet labor camps - this was the system Mikhail Sergeevich Gorbachev reformed!
Fingers and toes crossed, I asked the shop-assistant if they had a book by Gorbachev.
“Nyet.”
“Anything about Gorbachev then?”
He handed me a book on Gorbachev and Yeltsin. This was the more decently-dressed version of the Harper's Bazaar blasphemy. Imagine asking Winston Churchill to sign a book titled “Churchill-Hitler” or Shah Rukh Khan to sign “Shah Rukh-Salman.”
“Anything else?”
“One more but that’s the only other one,” he said handing me a Wolters Kluwer publication, Vyzovy v zhizni i deyatel’nosti M.S. Gorbacheva (Challenges in the life and work of M.S. Gorbachev).
I quickly examined the table of contents: a collection of essays – fabulous! And since it was the translation of a German book, I was reassured that it had positive things to say about him. Gorby, sometimes spitefully, is referred to as “the best German” by Russians who blame him for the collapse of the Soviet Union…
…Having bought the book, I had one more thing to do – buy flowers. I must confess that I still haven’t gotten used to this Russian custom because never do I feel more robbed of my femininity than when I have to give flowers to a man. Ideally, it should always be the other way round - but when in Russia, do as the Russians.
“What about these pink and red tulips?” the flower-shop owner suggested.
“You know…I have to give these to a man…so maybe something else?”
“So what?” she sounded enraged. “Tulips are beautiful flowers. Why won’t you give them to a man???”
“How about something that isn’t pink or red?” I tried to calm her down.
Well, that’s how I ended up with the bright orange-yellow chrysanthemums representing “the Sun and good health” as the lady said…
…And now me. So how did I end up getting invited to a meeting with Mikhail Gorbachev? Well, if I have to justice to this story, I would have to go back to the time when I was five and fell in love with Russia but to keep your (and my) sanity, I will stick to more recent dates.
A few days into the Carnegie internship, I got my second translation assignment. Lilia Shevtsova – the Al Pacino/Gérard Depardieu/Amitabh Bachchan of the think tank world - had written, “
How the West Has Become the Kremlin’s Hostage.” She was so happy with my translation that she asked my boss to thank me. That’s when my boss mentioned that I would love to work with Lilia and she took me under her wing.
Late February, while discussing a research paper that I’m writing under her guidance, we landed on Gorbachev’s topic. Lilia mentioned that he's a very good friend of hers and that she was attending his 'birthday party' that weekend.
So you can imagine how my mind works - I started debating if should I ask her whether I could come along. The Good Aanch counseled, “Don't be silly! You don't even know her and it's too big a "favor" to ask for – especially because you were just trashing Gorbachev’s economic policies during perestroika and now suddenly you want to meet him!”
The Bad Aanch said, “You f***ing nitwit. This is the closest you will ever get to a chance of seeing Gorby, the great. Ask her NOW!”
Now in case you didn't already know, I usually end up listening to The Bad Aanch because she's my only insurance against the four words I hate the most - "What if I had...?"
So I asked and Lilia politely explained that I can't go because it is a small event for family and friends only. "But..." - and this is the only time in history when the word 'but' was followed by hope instead of disappointment! - "…there is a closed event on 21st March when he celebrates his birthday with journalists. I'll put you on the list…”
…So there I was on 21st March 2011. 11:07 AM – things were about to start. I couldn’t wait! This man changed the world. He halted the Soviet nuclear arms race, allowed democratization of Eastern Europe and of his own country, and ended the Cold War. And while Ronald Reagan had merely taunted the Soviet leadership, Mr. Gorbachev did indeed tear down that Wall. He is not just a leader, he’s a Statesman – in the same league as Mahatma Gandhi. And for those who hate him for the disintegration of the USSR, let me remind you that it wasn’t Gorbachev but Yeltsin, Shushkevich and Kravchuk (Presidents of the Russian, Ukrainian and Belarussian SSRs), who - knowing fully well that the overwhelming majority of the Soviet people had
voted in favor of preserving the USSR with reforms – signed the
Belavezha Accords to dissolve the Union.
As he entered the room, I couldn’t believe I was right there! I wondered if he would run right at the end of the conference and perhaps I wouldn’t get the chance to give him the flowers and the card. Perhaps his body guards won’t let me get the books signed – both mine and my flatmate Nastya’s – ‘Translating History’ by Igor Korchilov, Gorbachev’s translator. And then even if I managed it all in a rush, perhaps, the flowers and card would get lost in a big heap of other things and wouldn’t matter.
The conference began and the speakers around the table went on to say great things about Gorbachev. One man said that he feels lucky to have experienced more freedom than even his son who was born in the late 1980s and has grown up in Russia. Some even joked saying Gorbachev had destroyed many a Sovietologist’s career. One woman started speaking and Gorby interrupted asking who she represents. “Thanks to you, I can say that I represent myself,” came the prompt reply.
I was absolutely amazed with Gorbachev, who even at 80, will instantly charm you with his wit and humor. His voice is deeper than I had imagined and his manner thoughtful. But more than all that, he’s incredibly modest. When it was his turn to speak, he described himself as a small actor, who could not have done what he did without various factors like West Germany’s economic success and Soviet Union’s stagnation.
While the others were speaking, Lilia had come up to me saying that when Gorbachev finishes speaking she will invite me over to present him the flowers.
WOW! So I was going to be able to do at least some of what I had wanted to. I played the scene in my head - I would walk up to him, give him the flowers and the card, shake his hand and wish him ‘S dnyom rozhdeniya.’ It was going to be that simple...
But it wasn’t!
When Gorbachev finished, everyone applauded and Lilia stood up saying that she would “like to invite Aanchal Anand, who has come from India and would like present a bouquet to Mikhail Sergeevich."
I walked up to Mr. Gorbachev and extended my hand – but perhaps not enough. I looked into his eyes – long enough for it to have been mistaken for a stare – and his deep eyes ‘stared’ back.
“Ti govorish po russki?” He asked if I spoke Russian and that’s when I realized that it had been more than a few seconds since I was standing there – not having said a word. I was in complete awe. I mean what do you say to such a great person?
But his question broke my frozen state. I extended my hand enough so he could take the flowers. “Zhelayu Vam s dnyom rozhdeniya. Vsevo samovo samovo xoroshevo!” He took the flowers and the card and placed them on the table and then turned back to me, with his arms wide open to hug me.
“You’re hugging Mikhail Gorbachev! ****!” my brain – or whatever part of me was still capable of thinking – said to me.
“I love India!” he smiled.
“Me too…” I uttered, immediately realizing what a dumb response that was, “…and I love Russia as well,” I tried to ‘save the situation.’ (I clearly need more practice of speaking with Nobel Laureates and former Heads of State!) But he found it all very amusing and I walked back for the closing comments of the conference.
I was back in less than a minute with my books because there were no body guards there to spoil the show. He had been so warm that I was confident he would sign them. But I was absolutely not expecting him to sign them with personal messages for Nastya and I, while casually chatting with me. He even invited me into photos other attendees were taking with him. Buying flowers and being Indian has never paid off this much! And I never thought a simple translation could lead to so much!
When he was gathering his things, I saw that my card was tucked between the pages of his diary. I felt honored that he was going to read it. As he walked out of the door, he patted me affectionately on my right shoulder.
What a day it had been! As I mentioned to my flatmates Nastya and Ira, I couldn’t believe that someone so great can be so modest. In case you think it’s because he’s old and might as well be nice, think again - Robert Mugabe is 87, Fidel Castro is 84, and Idi Amin and Pol Pot died at 78 and 73 respectively. Being nice is a choice and Mikhail Gorbachev is great not only because of the things he has done but also because he chooses to be nice – and that’s why he commands so much respect.
And here is my two cents for those who want to be great leaders – keep your ego in check. There’s a very thin line between confidence and arrogance and the former mutates easily. Coming from the corporate world, I know that every second assistant director thinks of himself (or herself) as God’s gift to mankind. And here I met God’s gift to mankind, and he thinks of himself as just any other ordinary man!
