A Writers Tale: India- of whims and woes

Yann Martel, a writer of Canadian origin, best known for his Man-Booker prize award winning novel, “Life of Pi” was in news recently for apparently to what some might believe for insulting India. This isn’t the first time someone has criticised India, nor would it be the last. But what remains a constant is the sheer vanity with which we rise to an occasion such as this to protect the sacrilegious notion that some uneducated yet enlightened few propagate as mainstream religious sentiments or as in this case national pride.

Martel was first in news in 2002 when his book won the prize, and what did he say of India then?

I have always loved India. It's a wonderful, horrible place. India is all lives in one place, India is all emotions in one place, it's an extraordinary, dazzling place, it's all the wonder and horror of life. There are stories that can be told only in India…There are things that are possible in India that aren't possible anywhere else. It's horrible in the sense that the rule of law is so arbitrary. But the upside is that given the diversity, it's amazing how it still holds itself together. It's a country that dazzles me because it's all of life.

In news recently again as his book has been adapted into a film by the same name:

“You know you can't fall asleep in India both morally and existentially - for better or for worse. In some ways, India is a horrible place. It's corrupt, violent; there are inequities that are disturbing. At the same time, the place gave us Mahatma Gandhi. It's a place of idealism and corruption,”

India is the best and the worst of humanity. There's lot of extremism. Sometimes it gets a little exhausting,” said the 49-year-old, adding, “What India brought to me was that for first time I actually and seriously considered faith. What does it mean to believe in Vishnu and Allah and Buddha and Jesus? Religion in India for better or for worse is still a mainstream thing right? It's worst in the extremism of BJP and Shiv Sena and like that but then it's also positive. Because I was in India, it got me intrigued by religion and that also led me to write Life of Pi and also changed my life,”

I am a proud Indian. I am, and there’s no denying it. I am not ashamed of my country despite its obvious shortcomings, and it does hurt what Yarn Martell said. Not because his views are derogatory or disrespectful, but because they are true. It’s the bitter truth. And Martell deserves some credit that he really sugar coated it. He said all this in a way which wasn’t degrading. He’s an outsider, a foreigner, living in India for say 2 years, the time during which he wrote the book, obviously influenced him deeply to change his life. Whatever his views, they might be influenced by people around him who might be biased, but it’s still the truth.

Ever since the comments surfaced, the country has been in a furore where talks have been to boycott the film or perhaps even ban it altogether. This, in a country where every religion teaches forbearance. The Bhagavad Gita is practically based on forbearance. So is Koran, and Bible. Something as sacred as Religion in India; does it actually take a dent in its armour, if some people chose to ridicule? If yes, is it really as strong as it was projected? And if not, is it really worth protecting then?

Most times people who are rioting don’t even know what they are there for. Talk to any seasoned Indian politician who loves his theatrics. And it’s the truth.

People are offended when an outsider calls India a corrupt nation. Don’t we ourselves do that every day? The current Congress government’s rule has been full of scandals, scams and controversies. I don’t side with BJP either. Given the power of opposition, had they been resolute they could have brought down the government. The scams which reached even the Indian Army, were not just gun powder, but nuclear fissible material. But no. They (BJP) failed even as an opposition.

Arvind Kejriwal, the new face of the Aam Aadmi- the Mango People, has constantly been branded as an agent of Congress when he defiles BJP, and vice versa when it’s Congress at the receiving end. I on the other hand believe he’s a Pakistani, ISI spy, and Anna Hazare the secret head of ISI, who has infiltrated India in disguise.

We can either keep denying it or fix it. Apple did it with their disastrous Maps. Why can’t we?

 

It has been a long long time, almost a month since my last post here. I intended to write an Independence Day special, but sadly I couldn’t. Not because for the lack of time, but for the lack of inspiration and other reason being that I couldn’t recollect my thoughts around. I was puzzled as to what I really wanted to write. I mean we get this day once every year, and year after year we read the same things- the struggle for freedom, how Pandit Nehru gave his famous “Tryst with Destiny” speech on Red Fort, Mahatma Gandhi’s assassination, the story of partition of India. Some people would write about how despite the shortcomings they still love India. Maybe some NRI would feature. It’s a routine. I however, wanted none of that.

Travelling in Delhi Metro every day is an experience. If you’re not judgemental, can stay calm, and do not suffer from claustrophobia, you’ll actually enjoy the ride when you observe other people. Their posture, expressions, how they constantly fidget, or behave around others. It’s interesting to hear about what they are actually discussing, makes you aware as to what’s on their mind, thus giving an insight to a total stranger.

But why did I just make this “Hanuman” leap from Independence Day to Delhi Metro? Because I had a sudden epiphany, that today India can somehow be described by Delhi Metro. It’s a symbol I feel which I can identify with.

For a country whose history actually pre dates the birth of Jesus, 200 years back from now, is like yesterday, where a certain sub-section of people were so alienated from society, that if a socially high ranking person happened to sight them, these people were actually flogged. A time, where education was only for the elite social class. People were actually taken as bonded labours, where they had no rights.

We have come a long way since then.

Now, the very sub-section which was looked upon (until yesterday), travels not only in the same train, but sits on the same seat with the “socially high class”. I personally believe that this is perhaps the single largest achievement that what was preached for a millennium in the name of religion, in a religiously fanatic nation such as ours, could make peace with it in mere 60 years.

However, enough of this parading. I didn’t intend to write this blog entry about how proud I am.

Travelling in metro. Allow me to return to that, if you will.

Scene-1

Metro stops at a station, everyone waiting at the station forms a crowd in front of the door to get in as soon they open. Everyone inside the metro anticipates the crowd’s intentions outside, and braces themselves to face the enemy. Where am I? I am feeling proud, as I manage to scavenge a seat for myself. The two teams meet, you hear a lot of swearing, abuse to one another’s sister, mother. Some “fuck you” in Hindi, sometimes Marathi and a lot of Punjabi. The women are groped, pregnant ladies are kicked, and everyone is pushed.

An elderly comes in leaning on a stick, looks around and sees a young guy smartly dressed with a leather bag, earphones plugged in, sitting on a seat reserved especially for the senior citizens. Before, I could actually get up and offer my seat, another elderly who was sitting on one of the reserved seats (there are two on every bench), beckons the one we are interested in. I pause myself. He asks the young person to get up. The person ignores. Another young man, with some notion of conscience, threatens to call the Delhi Metro police. The person still ignores, but takes of his earphones. Nothing would make him get up. Finally, I got up and offered the elderly my seat and walked away to another compartment.

Scene-2

I got to read this about on internet. Please read and share.

An excerpt.

Yesterday on the 1st of September, at around 7:30 in the evening I was coming back from college I took a detour from my usual route and boarded the Blue line of the Delhi Metro from Rajiv Chowk. Being used to this chaos everyday, I was warned by my companion that we should board the ‘Ladies’ compartment and not the ‘General’ compartment. The sensible arguments I gave were, firstly that it is a ‘general’ compartment and not demarcated for men, so no harm boarding it. Secondly, that they are humans and not ‘animals’. I lost the argument in the next few minutes.

I had to get off after four or so stations, so it didn’t seem like the decision was going to cost me heavily. Being surrounded by 50 to 60 heavily sweating men was a nightmare enough to take for one evening, but it had hardly begun. Throughout those 10 minutes that I was present there every part of my body was scanned in an inch by inch detail which made me feel like my sex was a curse with which I was born. The ordeal had started.
My
station arrived, I shoved my way with great difficulty to make it to the door
before it could close and during this struggle my top was pulled by a man to
expose my breast for a good 15 seconds while at the same time somebody grabbed
my behind. I was paralysed in shock. Nevertheless, I started pushing again and
finally reached the door and stepped onto the platform. I screamed my lungs out
at those 5 to 6 men who were standing at the door. I hurled abuses at them
which ideally no sensible Indian girl should utter even in thoughts, let alone
whisper.

For the full article please follow the link “http://urbangypsy1.blogspot.in/2012/09/i-was-molested.html”

All this led me to thinking as to what went wrong and where. Why all of a sudden have we as India’s young generation, the future, have lost all sense of respect and tradition. The very values that we rooted for are now traded for the trash bag that the West discarded. Whereas the West now looks towards us delving into our past, which once made us proud.

All of a sudden, I see that nothing matters to anyone anymore. The life has lost all meaning in the race to horde cash, and for what? So that they can drive bigger cars, eat in fancier restaurants, buy even more ridiculously expensive things and flaunt them around?

The guy who didn’t give up his seat. He wasn’t an idiot. He was smart enough to get a job in some MNC in Nehru Place, rich enough to have a luxury of an I-pod. And yet, an insensitive prick.

The guys who pulled the top of the girl in metro, what did they get? A few seconds of view of the glorious female anatomy, and some kicks while the leered at her and she hurled abuses at them?

Why?

Are we really free?

In and Out

Last Sunday, as is the custom; my day began with the Sunday sentiments of Karan Thapar in HT. It was an interesting read- one that concerns people involved in the Bhopal Gas tragedy, the Dow Jones Chemical Company and London Olympics.

The conclusion that the esteemed journalist reached was though India had already lodged protest against the inclusion of Dow Jones Co. as a sponsor in the London Olympics it would not withdraw from the same. Why? Because the matter has bitten dust for 3 decades, and no longer would be pivotal in India’s decision.

I would of course disagree with the idea. And this week’s developments have only confirmed what I believed was right in first place. London announced that “It would be sad, if India withdraws as it can not drop Dow Jones as one of its sponsors.”

London has played a gamble. India would fall for it. New Delhi has only to announce its official withdrawal from the games, and the World shall take notice.

 A govt. is elected by the people, to serve the people. That very govt. has made a mockery of the victims of the Bhopal Gas Tragedy for the last 30 years by denying them justice. Stepping away now for want of a few Olympic medals- is betraying those people again. It would perhaps be more humane to subject them to a firing squad and be done with it. Those people would only have to suffer some moments of pain and misery- saved from the prolonged anguish and hopelessness.

The world’s largest democracy has to assert itself. Now is the time. Flex some muscle; announce “Britain still hasn’t got over its Colonial history where profit is measured in Indian blood.” This is the age of hype. When there isn’t any, there is a demand for such. America uses it all the time. Steve Jobs made a fortune out of it. Closer home, Mamata Bannerjee whipped Ratan Tata at Nandigram with it.

Surely, India could do some good with it.