A Confession

Accumulated knowledge, ideas, thoughts, experiences make us what we are today. Wisdom that we gain, ideology and philosophy that we call our own are result of sometimes painstaking, sometimes effortless process of learning that starts at a very early age. All that we thus accumulate, makes our identity. As this is an ever ending process, we as thinking, learning human being keep changing till the last day of our lives.

And yet, there may be things that we hold dear and sacrosanct. Things that after a time, never really change. What we call values and ideology. And these constitute the core of our identity. We use these as touchstones for judging all other ideas and actions of self and others. These core values and ideology give us a unique identity.

When these core values are challenged, we feel uncomfortable. This is identity crisis. We can’t let that happen and must defend them with all our might. A defeat there will lead to a void that threatens our whole existence.

Recently, it has been an identity crisis like situation for me. First, it was embarrassing to know that all along I was being misguided and used by whole bunch of communist propagandists who claimed to be historians. Unfortunately all I ever read are Romila Thapar, D N Jha, R S Sharma, Bipan Chandra and some NBT (Mukherjees) and NCERT books (Adding to the shame is the realization that I carry with me many of those books even today). Fortunately, however, I never liked Mediveal India so could skip Irfan Habib and hence avoid the mortifying shame of following a communist who is also a Muslim!

(I must confess that when my daughter last week asked about a good book on ancient history, I was totally confounded as I could not recollect a single name other than these abhorrent communist thugs. I know there can be no excuse for such a despicable ignorance.)

Then, few days back I was told that Chandrachud, former CJI who I always admired as a champion and crusader for equality and justice, was a congress stooge or worse! Someone who, to use a friend’s words, ‘sold his soul’ to Indira Gandhi during the emergency. Never mind that he was made CJI by Morarji Desai government. The guy must have bought it back and resell to Morarji bhai.

Today I come to know that Padgaonkar was a congresswala! Now, he and Rajendra Mathur (Navbharat Times) were the two persons I grew up with. Most of my social-political thoughts were shaped back then by these two persons. I am wondering if Mathur was a congress guy or a communist. He died long back so this issue may remain unaddressed.

The question, however, that bothers me is what I am? A congressi? communist? Worse of the two, may be, as all these persons I tried so hard to emulate all my life turn out to be dishonest cheats camouflaging as something else. That is the identity crisis like situation I referred to.

A life wasted on these false ideas and ideals. A socio-political identity that turns out to be a mere mask. Surely a condemned life mine is.

Equality & Justice and What Kind of A Motherland We Want?

In everyday life we keep facing setbacks, disappointments, frustrations. What we need, and generally have, to overcome these mini-major crises are whole lot of support systems- set of persons, ideas, things we draw sustenance from. Family and friends and role models; Music, poetry, religion, politics.

When in doubt or challenged or just screwed up, they bring balance and sanity back to our life, get us some perspective: sometimes by consoling, sometimes by confronting and sometimes by just a graceful and kind acceptance of who we are. This process makes us wholesome and life worth living.

AIR once used to host various lecture series regularly on myriad of socio-political issues. Don’t know if they do that now. Publication Division used to publish these lectures and sell in the booklet format. One of my prized possessions that has travelled far and wide with me in the last 25 years (and survived) is one such booklet, the Sardar Patel Memorial Lecture 1987, delivered by Y V Chandrachud and titled, "The Basics of Indian Constitution: Its Search for Social Justice and the Role of Judges".

It's not just the role of judges that Chandrachud discusses in his speech. It's a complete critique of the functioning of the Supreme Court and tries to explain judiciary’s role in an ever changing socio-political landscape in a young aspirational nation.

As the topic is about social justice, the concept of equality, in its various shades, is the main theme. So much so that delivery of equality becomes synonymous with delivery of justice. Equality is not merely a legal or judicial concept; its much beyond that. Equality is the essence of all fundamental rights that the constitution grants us and soul of the directive principles.

I keep going back to this booklet just to keep myself reminded what justice is all about and why there can be no compromise on equality or any limitation allowed to be placed on the concept that is equality.

Chandrachud finishes his lecture quoting Camus from his "Letters to a German Friend":

"I should like to be able to love my country and still love justice. I don't want just any greatness for it, particularly a greatness born of blood and falsehood. I want to keep it alive, by keeping justice alive.”

History through "A Wrinkle In Time"

"Imagine how different India would be had Sher Shah ruled for couple of decades more and left able successors"

Now, this is a real difficult imagination for class 7 students. It presupposes that the students have not only a thorough knowledge of medieval Indian history but also a strong sense of history (pl also note that the problem has two hypothetical conditions that both need to be met for a solution to emerge; a tough proposition even for more matured persons).

One of the reasons I very often suspect the motive behind this decision to teach history in lower classes is that history can be (and often is) taught in a very subjective manner. Also, the quality of teachers, especially in lower classes, for an important subject like history needs consideration. Though it would be gross simplification, I believe that a portion of blame of Hitler's idea of Aryan superiority that finally ended up as homicidical also has to be shared by his history teacher in school who was effective and yet crooked.
Back to the Sher Shah problem. I wonder why the author of the book thinks it's an important issue for class 7! And why does the history teacher agree with the author so much so that she has given a project on this topic?
I mean, I do understand if a similar question is framed with Rana Pratap or Shivaji. They were Hindu so may be this thinking that their reign would have somehow rejuvenated the otherwise rotten Hindu society and united India to a path of prosperity and a common cause, thus evading the catastrophe caused by the marauding Europeans. This is a roundabout way to propose the concept of a Hindu nation-state for a time period when this modern idea of nation-state was not even conceived. Being a born Hindu I do understand this mindset, if not indulge it. But Sher Shah?

Is it that, in some strange way, Akbar is representing Muslims here in this problem and Sher Shah, an imaginary resistance? A less Muslim?  A more agreeable one, or a less dislikeable one? After defeating Akbar, he and his able successors would have established Ram-Rajya and served it in accordance with Manusmriti!

I am just thinking aloud; more a rambling than thinking really. Is this an over zealous author stretching the long dead idea of Hindu renaissance bit too far? Or perhaps a person with strong sense of humour, having a quite dig at the now fashionable again Hindu revivalism!  Also, want to understand why this problem was considered appropriate for a group of very young children!

ps: My daughter in her report has essentially explained why Akbar & co did alright and Sher Shah & co were probably not going to do much beyond what Mughals already did (all my fault; I am her guide). Does she run the risk of being branded a traitor in her school (a Hindu missionary one, I must add).

पलायन

आँखों में कामना और
शरीर में समर्पण लिए मेरा  नवयुव -सौंदर्य
तुम्हारे सहचर्य में  सिहरता है
यह प्रेम है
नाहक है तुम्हारा खारिज़ करना
इस भाव को गंभीरता से और
एक व्यर्थ मानसिक श्रेष्ठता के दम्भ में
सिगरेट के धुएं के छल्ले  बनाने की चेष्टा।

जब जीवन में आये क्षण रोने के
छोटे बच्चे सा रो लेना
श्रद्धांजलि है जीवन को
व्यर्थ है अपने कमरे के अंधेरों में
शराब का घूँट लेते
श्रीमद्भगवद के पंख लगाकर उड़ना।

पवित्र है स्वीकारना जीवन को
इसकी पूरी गरिमा में
असहमत हो यदि, श्रेयष्कर है संघर्ष
परिस्थितियों से जो नहीं रुचते तुम्हे
जय या पराजय, गौरवपूर्ण है
एक नपुंसक चिंतन से, जिसका पाथेय
औरत से घृणा और जीवन से पलायन है।

तुम नकारते हो प्रिय?
मुबारक हो एक स्नेहालिंगन को तरसती,
यह परित्यक्ता जिंदगी;
संबंधों की समस्त संभावनाएं जिन्हें तुमने
"व्यस्त हूँ", कह ठुकरा दिया।


(२ जुलाई , १९९३)

Bhaat De Haramzada

A friend was kind enough to find this poem and translate it. In his own words, "It's not a fully literal translation . I have tried to capture the essence and without too much editing".

Presenting the iconic poem "Bhaat De Haramzada" by Rafik Azad , Bangladesh, composed in 1974
Translation: Arunangshu Paul

I am very hungry , can feel it every moment
in my stomach, along the contours of the body
an overwhelming hunger almost like a drought -
 - the way field of standing crops get burnt down
by the summer heat - it's the same with hunger ,
the body burns ; I need two mouthfuls twice daily .
Have no other demands as others
asking for so many things , everyone wants
houses , cars , money , wealth - some are greedy for fame;
I have a simple wish  , as my innards blaze,
need rice to eat - my outright necessity - be it hot or cold
fine or coarse , or of the  brown ration variety ;
it doesn't matter - I need rice on my earthen plate.
If I get two mouthfuls twice a day , I will give up all demands
no needless greed , even no lust for sex;
I don't want some one draped in clothes below her waist
whoever wants  let them have her ,
give her away whom you want to .
Listen, I don't need anything of that sort
and if , you can't fulfill my simple demand
there will be a total chaos in your state, I say.
nothing is  good or bad for the hungry,  law or order,
whatever I find before me , I will gobble up effortlessly
nothing will remain - will vanish into the hungry jaws ;
if by chance I find you in front of me
it will be a tasty treat to satiate my demonic hunger.
This all encompassing simple hunger for rice
will bring in catastrophe , invited
From creations to the creator , I will devour them all
gradually I will eat up the trees , rivers ,
villages , towns, footpath , overflowing drains
pedestrians on the roads , hip swinging women,
food minister with his waving flag atop his car,
nothing is a waste for me today
You bastard , give me some rice , or else I will eat up the map

ভাত দে হারামজাদা

- রফিক আজাদ---সংকলিত (রফিক আজাদ)


ভীষণ ক্ষুধার্ত আছিঃ উদরে, শরীরবৃত্ত ব্যেপে

অনুভূত হতে থাকে- প্রতিপলে- সর্বগ্রাসী ক্ষুধা

অনাবৃষ্টি- যেমন চৈত্রের শষ্যক্ষেত্রে- জ্বেলে দ্যায়

প্রভুত দাহন- তেমনি ক্ষুধার জ্বালা, জ্বলে দেহ

দু’বেলা দু’মুঠো পেলে মোটে নেই অন্য কোন দাবী

অনেকে অনেক কিছু চেয়ে নিচ্ছে, সকলেই চায়ঃ

বাড়ি, গাড়ি, টাকা কড়ি- কারো বা খ্যাতির লোভ আছে

আমার সামান্য দাবী পুড়ে যাচ্ছে পেটের প্রান্তর-

ভাত চাই- এই চাওয়া সরাসরি- ঠান্ডা বা গরম

সরু বা দারুণ মোটা রেশনের লাল চাল হ’লে

কোনো ক্ষতি নেই- মাটির শানকি ভর্তি ভাত চাইঃ

দু’বেলা দু’মুঠো পেলে ছেড়ে দেবো অন্য-সব দাবী;

অযৌক্তিক লোভ নেই, এমনকি নেই যৌন ক্ষুধা

চাইনিতোঃ নাভি নিম্নে পরা শাড়ি, শাড়ির মালিক;

যে চায় সে নিয়ে যাক- যাকে ইচ্ছা তাকে দিয়ে দাও

জেনে রাখোঃ আমার ওসবের কোনো প্রয়োজন নেই।

যদি না মেটাতে পারো আমার সামান্য এই দাবী

তোমার সমস্ত রাজ্যে দক্ষযজ্ঞ কাণ্ড ঘ’টে যাবে

ক্ষুধার্তের কাছে নেই ইষ্টানিষ্ট, আইন কানুন-

সম্মুখে যা কিছু পাবো খেয়ে যাবো অবলীলাক্রমেঃ

থাকবে না কিছু বাকি- চলে যাবে হা ভাতের গ্রাসে।

যদি বা দৈবাৎ সম্মুখে তোমাকে ধরো পেয়ে যাই-

রাক্ষুসে ক্ষুধার কাছে উপাদেয় উপাচার হবে।

সর্বপরিবেশগ্রাসী হ’লে সামান্য ভাতের ক্ষুধা

ভয়াবহ পরিণতি নিয়ে আসে নিমন্ত্রণ করে।

দৃশ্য থেকে দ্রষ্টা অব্দি ধারাবাহিকতা খেয়ে ফেলে

অবশেষে যথাক্রমে খাবো : গাছপালা, নদী-নালা

গ্রাম-গঞ্জ, ফুটপাত, নর্দমার জলের প্রপাত

চলাচলকারী পথচারী, নিতম্ব প্রধান নারী

উড্ডীন পতাকাসহ খাদ্যমন্ত্রী ও মন্ত্রীর গাড়ী

আমার ক্ষুধার কাছে কিছুই ফেলনা নয় আজ

ভাত দে হারামজাদা,

তা না হলে মানচিত্র খাবো।

Long Live My Dear Country!

I remember reading a Bangladeshi poem, that started like,

"मुझे भात दे हरामज़ादे, वरना मैं तुम्हारा मानचित्र खा जाऊँगा"

The magazine had cited it as evidence of evolving anarchist literature in Bangladesh.  Poet is predicting, perhaps beseeching, a mass scale social unrest, a cataclysmic revolution, that has the potential to disintegrate the nation. Use of a very common expletive can be associated with anger and contempt for the nation that can not feed its people. What's the use then? Nothing justifies its existence or continuance.

He is not talking of a big change or even a new order, something that one associates with a revolutionary change; he says the nation will be gone! It's not disillusionment with a system or a government. It's questioning the very justification of an entire nation. He is not offering any solution either. Because he has none. He reckons situation has gone beyond redemption! So, he only offers complete destruction. Does he hope something good will come out of that? We will never know. That would have been so romantic. Who does not love a constructive destruction. Nothing is more intoxicating than an idea of something great coming out of the destruction of a mediocre or poor system. But this person offers no such hope. He offers nothing. Simple, plain destruction, if you like. That makes him so dangerous. This poem is not about lack of solution; it's about absence of hope itself!

This simple, raw sentence had a stunning impact on me in that impressionable young age. There was a message, a lesson: there is no country for a hungry stomach; neither religion nor any other allegiance can compensate for basic physical needs.

A lesson well learnt, I would say.

People are scared of being alone. It makes them feel small and vulnerable and, hence, are more than willing to commit to something they think bigger than themselves. One of our original social needs. We are lost unless given something to identify with. But we do need to be fed. Not necessarily a full meal thrice a day, but something at least for God's sake.

And when I see this deluge of patriotism among the fellow countrymen, I feel so grateful to our political bosses. Final proof that they have rid us of hunger at last, restoring us back to decent human beings.

Long live India!

प्रिय यामिनी जागी / सूर्यकांत त्रिपाठी "निराला"

कवि  का लक्ष्य होता है एक वैयक्तिक अनुभव को उद्दात्त रुप देना, जिससे कविता सर्वजनीन हो सके. पाठक उसमें अपने आग्रह का आरोपण कर उसे पुनः विषिष्ठ बनाता है. यही दोनों का काव्य-धर्म है.

                           प्रथम सहचर्य के इस क्षण के ज्ञान मेँ रात भी सजग है, मानों  साक्षी हो. अभिसार के नवीन अनुभव से क्लांत, अलसायी नायिका की कमल सदृश आँखें अत्यंत समीप, उसके ही वक्ष पर विश्राम करते प्रियतम के दमकते मुख के प्रथम प्रेम मेँ अनुरक्त हो रही हैं.
खुले केश पीठ, गर्दन, बांहों और वक्ष पर बिखरे हैं और उनके मध्य प्रियतम का मुख बादलों के बीच एक अन्य सूर्य प्रतीत होता है. इस शोभा-श्री से होड़ लेती सी दामिनी एक क्षण चमक कर बुझ जाती है मानो इस ज्योतिरूप कोमलांगी के रूप की समता न होने के कारण क्षमा मांग त्वरित विदा ले ली हो.
अपना सर्वस्व प्रिय को न्योछावर कर,  त्याग के धागे में पिरोई मोती सी हमारी नायिका, जिसने अपने इस त्याग के पुण्य से अपने प्रिय को समस्त वासनाओं से मुक्त कर दिया है, उसके प्रेम को जय कर, गर्वान्वित, वक्ष के वसन को देखती-ठीक करती, मुख से बालों को हटाती, चारोँ ओर  देखती, धीमे-धीमे शयनकक्ष से जा रही है.

गीतिका / सूर्यकांत त्रिपाठी "निराला"

(प्रिय) यामिनी जागी।
अलस पंकज-दृग अरुण-मुख
तरुण-अनुरागी।

खुले केश अशेष शोभा भर रहे,
पृष्ठ-ग्रीवा-बाहु-उर पर तर रहे,
बादलों में घिर अपर दिनकर रहे,
ज्योति की तन्वी, तड़ित-
द्युति ने क्षमा माँगी।

हेर उर-पट फेर मुख के बाल,
लख चतुर्दिक चली मन्द मराल,
गेह में प्रिय-नेह की जय-माल,
वासना की मुक्ति, मुक्ता
त्याग में तागी।

Moral Values vs Law

What is the difference between a religious preacher and a Supreme Court judge? When faced with a case where wife wants to dump parents in law, both will probably say the same, 'not done'. So will I.

A religious leader will base her judgement, probably, on something like,

"A wife is expected to be with the family of the husband after the marriage".

Son's "pious obligation”  to live with his parents

Wife "Insisting her husband to live separately from his parents is a western thought alien to our culture and ethos".

In a nutshell, “It is not a common practice or desirable culture for a Hindu son in India to get separated from his parents on getting married at the instance of the wife, especially when the son is the only earning member in the family. A son, brought up and given education by his parents, has a moral and legal obligation to take care and maintain the parents, when they become old and when they have either no income or have a meagre income,”

Whereas, a Supreme Court judge will base her judgement on more rational, progressive and legal foundations, like.. well, this......

The Hindu Link

Gandhi was not racist, But he IS

The best thing about any value system is that it keeps evolving all the time; the worst is, its proponents try applying it retrospectively and to everything!
I once read on Quora that Mr Darcy perhaps was a slave trader (now, anyone who is familiar with Quora will understand it but suppose the mainstream start discussions based on this information!). Like all good answers on that platform, this answer was also well reasoned. May be correct. Perhaps Mr Darcy indeed was a slave trader. But how is this information useful today for us. Shall we stop reading Jane Austen or watching Pride & Prejudice on TV? May be a Facebook campaign!
I am told that Tom & Jerry were also racists. Now, what do we do about that?

Newspapers report a campaign in some parts of Africa against Gandhi. The campaigners (mostly academics) say that Gandhi was a racist  perhaps as late as his stay there in S Africa.  He must have said something or used certain terms that in today's world are considered offensive.

Small problem with this logic is, if we apply today's value system, almost everyone who lived prior to, say, 1950 is racist. Many are child molestors, slave traders, climate change deniers and more embarrassingly, generally everyone believed that goodness was essentially because they would be judged by the God for their deeds, whenever that judgement day arrived!

And that is what I find troublesome with modern value system; it does not allow evolution of a living person. Only a dead set of ideas can evolve.

Haare Ko Hari Naam

Youth gives us hope and effervescence; and often a false sense that all obstacles are surmountable. We generally grow out of this, but most of us do carry something from this phase, something very precious that we cant imagine losing, may be deep hidden in our hearts.

When very young, I was told that it's degeneration of cells that leads to old age and death; in old age the cells generated can't keep pace with decaying cells. What a wonderful, hope-giving knowledge! And how difficult it would be for ever improving science to slow down that process if not altogether reverse it! And then, it would be a mater of diet and lifestyle to keep one healthy and fit. Eternity! If not for me, definitely for my children and grand children.

What a great relief for someone like me who grew up with Larkin's brilliantly romantic, yet abysmally demotivating philosophy.

Aubade

Related Poem Content Details

BY PHILIP LARKIN

I work all day, and get half-drunk at night.   

Waking at four to soundless dark, I stare.   

In time the curtain-edges will grow light.   

Till then I see what’s really always there:   

Unresting death, a whole day nearer now,   

Making all thought impossible but how   

And where and when I shall myself die.   

Arid interrogation: yet the dread

Of dying, and being dead,

Flashes afresh to hold and horrify.

The mind blanks at the glare. Not in remorse   

—The good not done, the love not given, time   

Torn off unused—nor wretchedly because   

An only life can take so long to climb

Clear of its wrong beginnings, and may never;   

But at the total emptiness for ever,

The sure extinction that we travel to

And shall be lost in always. Not to be here,   

Not to be anywhere,

And soon; nothing more terrible, nothing more true.

This is a special way of being afraid

No trick dispels. Religion used to try,

That vast moth-eaten musical brocade

Created to pretend we never die,

And specious stuff that says No rational being 

Can fear a thing it will not feel, not seeing

That this is what we fear—no sight, no sound,   

No touch or taste or smell, nothing to think with,   

Nothing to love or link with,

The anaesthetic from which none come round.

And so it stays just on the edge of vision,   

A small unfocused blur, a standing chill   

That slows each impulse down to indecision.   

Most things may never happen: this one will,   

And realisation of it rages out

In furnace-fear when we are caught without   

People or drink. Courage is no good:

It means not scaring others. Being brave   

Lets no one off the grave.

Death is no different whined at than withstood.

Slowly light strengthens, and the room takes shape.   

It stands plain as a wardrobe, what we know,   

Have always known, know that we can’t escape,   

Yet can’t accept. One side will have to go.

Meanwhile telephones crouch, getting ready to ring   

In locked-up offices, and all the uncaring

Intricate rented world begins to rouse.

The sky is white as clay, with no sun.

Work has to be done.

Postmen like doctors go from house to house.

And today ToI reports some new research saying that perhaps we have hit the ceiling on human longevity. That we are not likely to live beyond 115 under best of circumstances! That we all come with expiry date label!

What a shame! Does that mean we really have no choice but pouring ourselves into that  "vast moth eaten musical brocade"! My worst fears!

Is Bihari a noun or an adjective ?

My tender Bihari sentiments are often hurt these days because of spate of jibes on Bihar/ Biharis. Off late, I have often thought if we can use this wonderful sedition law to protect the scarce Bihari pride against such attacks.
Biharipana, in all honesty, is as ancient a concept as nationalism; state is as old a system as a modern nation; our boundaries are as natural as India's. Linguistically, granted, we are slightly less fortunate and the same phenomena of poverty and intolerance to criticism that unite India, unite us also. So, we Biharis also should have our rights under this law.
And now we have Markandey Katju also to suffer.
One good thing is that mercifully God has given us a sense of humour.