SHE LOOKS OUT

SHE LOOKS OUT

She stood out there on the curving road against the Mahim-Worli skyline looking beyond the bay resting on the rails, motorcycle parked a few feet away talking to her husband ( or may be her friend ). She made an immediate impression on me, though I could hardly see her face what marked her was her ‘burkha’ clad attire. She was not alone as there was another with her child and husband watching the waves move up and down the bay. It seemed in her presence she had set aside all the stereotypes the society possessed of her. She was known to be secluded from the society ; and was expected to step out for necessities and hardly for recreation. Her desire for fun and joy was to be satiated within the four walls of her household. But; here she was witness to the wide eyed passerby delightfully speeding toward the sea link.
She must have ventured out in such a manner on many occasions leaving her home from the routine of T V programmes and fixedness of domestic life to watch the waves, the sea the bridge and the sun. The sea link approach road has recently acquired prominence with large number of couples seeking solitude and calm sitting on the rails looking bayward. A new perspective has been provided to the young and restless in addition to marine drive and worli sea face. What is distinct about this place is that it is not crowded. The vehicles move at a distance and the couples can have their peace and silence in the Mumbai metropolis. There is certainly some secular representation on the sea side in the visitation of so many ‘burkha’ clad women. The joy which she shares with other women has a common emotion , an unseen thread of camaraderie connects them. Being close to nature the secular symbol of God!!
The ‘burkha’ has been in much debate and controversy in recent times. At one end is the French initiation of ban on its wearing as they claim it to be a symbol of ‘backwardness’. The other extreme is in Iran where recently according to a newspaper report about 62,000 women were fined for being ‘badly veiled’, there seems to be policy of crackdown on even slight expression of freedom among women in that state. In India she seems to have adopted it of her free will, accepted it as part of her religious identity, with some moments of liberty such as these when she can lift her veil and watch the waves on the bay.
So let it be her decision to adopt or to abandon. For us it is good enough to admire her stance as she rests on the rails and watches the ebb and flow of sea.

TEMPLE ON THE COAST

TEMPLE ON THE COAST


Sea link has gained to be an international landmark in the Mumbai skyline. It has also enhanced the prominence of suburbs and more particularly the Mahim bay. Mumbai will no more be identified by the Gateway of India and the marine drive –the colonial legacy. The addition of sea link which offers a panoramic view of Worli sea face and area around has diluted the importance of the other ‘city’ landmarks. Many visitors look forward to driving in/out of sealink in order to experience the thrill of moving above the sea and watching the skyline and the promising bay which has been created.

Most of us whilst speeding in our cars ( two wheelers are not permitted) look up only toward the tall towers but if we slightly depress our angle of sight we will witness sprawling hutments of worli sea face . Image makers may make face and pass remarks on the ugliness of the sight but that is the truth. It keeps reminding us that the select few who have sped ahead have done so at the cost of the people in the poor hutments who are the true inheritors of the worli village and the sea face. The capitalist intruders will soon swallow the remnants of their existence. Who will protect them?

On a careful look there stands a small fort probably it is the Worli Fort ( Worli I think was one among the original 7 islands of Bombay). What role that Fort played in history is not known, may be it is just symbolic, though behind the remnants of Worli village a Naval establishment looks toward the sea and during the British time its guns protected the harbour from enemy aggression. But the question is that who will protect the people and their temporary/semi-permanent residents from the might and greed of builders.

Perhaps that small temple which is so distinct among the hutments making a mark with its bright orange/pink colour, the flag fluttering atop.

When the citizens have no hope from the State they rely on such symbols of protection and solidarity and that is why among such areas we see flowering of religious structures. For secularism to flourish the poor and unprotected must be secured by the firm power of the State so that they do not have to seek recourse to powers beyond. Religion should play role only for spiritual enlightenment and be a personal matter and not a symbol of public posturing.

THE CRY OF CUCKOO


The cuckoo commences its call by 20th of march at Mumbai. I have been observing this sound since years amusingly as my birthday falls on that day. I am not sure if it is to herald the spring or the approaching summer or to announce the mango flowering and ripening thereafter or an advance notice, invitation or caution of the monsoons but there is melody and distinct pain in her call. I understand that she calls to invite the male cuckoo for mating. Though it sings in spring the call can be heard even in early june
when the first showers of monsoons reach Mumbai. During my early student days I always connected cuckoo to summer and mangoes after having heard a classical song in raag ‘malkaus’ during School Annual day function – “ koyaliya bole amuva ki daar par.”

In Kochi I was alarmed to hear the cuckoo almost through the year as the mangoes are available on trees much prior and beyond the standard summer months. Could it be the mango which motivates the cuckoo to sing? And mangoes do appear by end march/ early april and keep us company till the middle of monsoon. Hapus arrives first being the King followed by baiganphali of Andhra, kesar , langra, dusheri and culminating with the naughty chaunsa.

Strange it may appear I observe that the cuckoo- mango-monsoon have a link to the character and personality of us Indians. ‘Wait’ ( intezar) is the first emotion which the above process generates followed by ‘exasperation’, ‘hope’, ‘arrival’, ‘rejoicing’, ‘celebration’, ‘separation’ , ‘disappointment’. Like the twist in monsoon tale which sometimes approaches but retreats or withers our emotional cycle too behaves similarly. Mangoes rejuvenate wavering health, so do the monsoon. Therefore the emotional quotient of Indians is heavily hinged on cuckoo-mango- and monsoon. Year after year the wait and embrace makes our emotional system superior to the logical mind system, it also explains our variety of cultural expressions during the monsoon months. In addition to reviving our economy the monsoon-mango and cuckoo give us emotional therapy to sustain for a year.

LAL QUILA

LAL QUILA

I had promised myself that in my next visit to Delhi I will not only visit Lal Quila but other historical places as well which in the past I had admired from distance. So on the International Labours’ day I was out at 0730 am . First stop was at the Tomb of Safdarjang where the colour of spring was in the air with the approaching summer , birds ,leaves and flowers were all very expressive. It was calm around the tomb the only other visitor was quickly clicking photographs probably to complete a pending schedule . Built with red sandstone and marble it is known to be one of the last architecture piece of the Mughal era. And indeed it is last as it reflects the Empire in wane , the class seems to be on decline and it represents dying efforts of a slain warrior.

The next was the visit to the Tomb of Humayun which his widow had built as a tribute. It is part of the World Heritage site. Some experts rate it as one of the finest Tombs; a precursor to Taj ! Built in the 16th century with marble and sandstone it has many graves and is known as the dormitory of the mughals . More than the beauty the aesthetic of geometry is catching. Well spread structures with large spaces left on each side depicts that it was well thought and executed first on paper and then on ground.

My next visit was to the Mazar of Nizamuddin Aulia and Amir Khusrow at Nizamuddin. It was a sad picture of neglect and decay as the narrow lanes with Butchers busy mincing and slicing the sanctity and spirituality of the place. I did have my darshan but the pressure of the host of mediators seeking alms was an irritant. In India both Hindus and Muslim religious centres suffer from such deficiencies. There is ‘Mazar of Ghalib’ which was under beautification by the Ghalib Academy and therefore put under lock and key. I wondered what the ‘Greats’ resting in honour and peace ! would have felt and said on the pitiable state of humanity surrounding their remains.

There was a long queue at Lal Quila as I lined up to purchase the entry ticket. It is surprisingly sensible of the tourism department to open all Historical places of intertest in capital from sunrise to sunset. The ‘May Day’ heat was strong and I was protecting my head with a wet handkerchief and there I met an old man wearing a bright pink turban he had come from Aurangabad ( Maharashtra ) in the summer heat to visit the capital . There was also a long line of probably Gujrati women being led by a vocal lady passing instructions. I asked the sentry near the ticket window if the visitors strength is the same round the year, he said that ‘ Lal Quila ‘ attracts visitors throughout the year but the months of may-jun and oct have more visitors than the other months. Vacation in schools and preference of visitors for summer than winters could be the reason.

I wondered if the queue at ‘Lal quila’ remains the same the Indian democracy and faith in secularism will be retained. It is not in temples, churches and mosques that the strength of Indian people resides but it dwells in the secular structures of our past and present which inspires Indians of all castes, class and religion to ‘queue’ and register their solidarity with modern democracy.

GOODBYE COMRADE !

The Chinese have instructed their conductors, drivers and those interacting with the tourists to abandon the usage of addressing tourists as ‘comrades’ and instead use addresses such as ‘sir’ and ‘madam’. Amusing and interesting it is to learn that how far nations have progressed ! in the matters of marketing. They have stooped to subservience in order to achieve economic prosperity. It is known that only the façade of communism exists there otherwise the regime is immersed in capitalism. The comrade culture was but for name sake, but that too matters. With the introduction of ‘sir’ system the last traces of communism too have been drained down.

The shift of stance by the Chinese authorities have prompted me to ponder over the genesis of the two words popular among the opposing ideologies. The ‘sir’ word originated from the French word sire (messire) , however it became famous as the ‘knights’ were addressed as ‘Sir’. The tradition and practice is still prevalent and to this day the ‘Queen’ of England accords title of ‘Knight’ on the citizens of the British commonwealth and the gentlemen Knighted are officially addressed as ‘Sir’. Over the years the sound and power of the word engulfed the disciplined services , bureaucracy , the arena of education and now the corporate world . However, in metros even the ‘proletariat’ address their superiors and peers as ‘sirji’ in jest. It remains an expression of acceptance of subordination. In our subcontinent it has replaced vernacular expressions such as ‘huzur’, ‘janab’ ‘sahab’ and socially people prefer to be prefixed as ‘Sir’ rather than be approached with other Indian feudal salutations. The fact is that if today we cease the usage of the colonial legacy and adopt our previous forms of addresses it will be construed as insubordination and effrontery of the highest order.

The creation of ‘Comrade ‘ is under more romantic circumstances as it gained currency during the ‘French Revolution’ though the origin is Spanish from the ‘camarada’. The English adopted in late 19th century. It is indeed more democratic as treats the person being addressed as equal as it replaced the word ‘mister’. The socialist and communists societies adopted it wholeheartedly and over the years it is identified with the left leaning people but it brought a dramatic change in the society and is associated to those days when revolutionary zeal was alive and spreading. What gives extra strength to the word is that it is unisex and does not distinguish the genders. I remember during our student age one felt elated when addressed as comrade. Notwithstanding its association with the left it is a ‘feel good’ word and spreads goodness owing to its path breaking origins and linked to those who have made sacrifices for society.

Therefore , the surrender of once robust exterior and embarking on the path of submissiveness is not a healthy sign for any society as it will have far reaching consequences difficult to fully calculate at this point. The rural based revolution made them a front line nation and comrades have given confidence to the vast community but ‘sir ‘ will surrender the gains of so many years . The once ‘opium addict’ people have been seduced afresh!

THE SACRED CORNER

THE SACRED CORNER

With age and experience, observation and assimilation we consider certain Artistes, writers, leaders as close to our own ideology. In fact; our own ideology to a large extent is influenced by these people, whom we consider as our own almost sacred. In the sense that we refer to them from time to time, verify our opinions and defend their ideas and actions in our social discussions and debates often at the cost of annoying our colleagues and friends, sometimes even the family members. They in fact remain in one corner of our consciousness , well guarded by us as our back-up support for sustenance and survival.

There are many of them; whom I have idolised over the years, but at this point I will discuss only Munshi Premchand. Only yesterday I was reading his most famous short story ‘Idgah ‘, which tells the story of a four year old boy Hamid who spends the only three paise he had for iid celebration to purchase a ‘chimta’ ( metal tong ) for his grandmother ‘Amina’ to ensure her hands and fingers remain safe from fire while making chappatis , whilst his other friends purchase expensive toys he sacrifices his desires and even defends bravely his purchase.The grandmother is so moved by his gesture that she weeps uncontrollably showering blessings on the lad thus becoming childlike in front of the young boy who for that moment becomes her guardian. It is poignant story, which is one of the best and representative work of Premchand. Innocence of childhood, child psychology, games children play! The atmosphere during iid, the village setup all are depicted so minutely and accurately in the short story of 7-8 pages.

Prem chand was a keen observer of Society. He wrote for the victims of socio-economic oppression, well the entire nation was oppressed under the British regime but his heart was with the poor. Though he was a graduate he had modest and humble upbringing his father being a clerk in the postmaster office. He learnt Persian under the tutorship of the village Moulvi and along with Persian learnt Urdu too. However Persian was his pet subject and was with him till B. A. Love of reading he imbibed from urdu novels from the village Bookshop with whom he worked part time in turn was able to get books on loan. Rest he imbibed by direct observation of society. No great human influences other than his mother whom he lost as a young boy were in his life. No influential politician or religious or social reformer carved his ideas. Gandhi made a big impact on him but that influence was on the entire Nation. He was man of the masses and remained one till last. The greatest happenings in his life were his writings consisting of stories , novels and writings in newspapers which he edited from time to time.

I return to him regularly to refresh and rejuvenate myself. Each of his story is material for research on subjects such as sociology and literature. Like Pundits who dissect and narrate ramcharitramanas and similar literature with detail analysis investing hours on each word and line and chowpai Premchand too deserves that attention. Some puritans may propagate that literature should be appreciated as literature and should not sermonise, however traditional Indian literature has always sermonised. Sermonising if precise and accurate is indeed pleasing, it should not be superfluous. Premchand is measured and precise in his preaching and therefore endearing.
A story such as Idgah is not merely literature but history, economics, psychology and much more. Such is the greatness of Premchand who resides in my sacred corner; secured.

SACRIFICE AND NATION - A CASE OF PREMCHAND

SACRIFICE AND NATION- A CASE OF PREMCHAND

Premchand died in 1936 at the age of 56. He left an indelible mark in the field of literature. Though he wrote in Hindustani his works are translated in all the major Indian Indian languages and many other languages of the world. He wrote about 300 short stories and 14 long and short novels.

He is still widely read and quoted. His stories are reflection of his humanism and concern for the downtrodden. Yet, his language and observations are so interesting that readers remain captivated. In the present times his underlying secularism in his stories make them relevant for our present generation and generations after. A Dramatic group in Mumbai only enacts Drama based on stories of Premchand.

Here, I do not wish to narrate his life story but narrate only one important incident of his life. We are all aware that all his life he lived in economic scarcity, after completing Matriculation he could not get admission in Intermediate ( though he passed B. A. later ) however he secured a job of a Teacher in Chunar near Benaras. This job he held for 21 years as he was unable to sustain on only his writings and had to seek regular employment all his life; he could never afford the luxury of leasure.

In 1921 Gandhiji visited Gorakhpur where Premchand was posted as a teacher. Gandhi gave call to the nation for non cooperation , he urged those holding Government jobs to resign. Premchand was deeply motivated to plunge into the movement but had a pregnant wife and two growing children to support. He consulted his wife Shivrani, both contemplated for some days and on the sixth day she gave signal to resign. Thus Premchand resigned his secured Government job of 21 years along with the Government quarter. Thereafter he continued to struggle and survive till his premature death in 1936.Premchand; however was just one among the thousands who made similar such sacrifices in order to attain independence . Such was the spirit of the National movement that it not only aroused the great but many ordinary and deprived. Compare it to our present times;so immersed we are in consumerism that our character has changed . There is no Premchand among us nor we have the capacity to create one !