Paava Kadhaigal, netflix movie - my review

A friend often teases me about my penchant for watching foreign ('esoteric' was his choice of word) language content (movies, series, documentaries) on one or the other OTT platforms. Netflix has been the preferred one for me and I have devoured on the usual suspects across Spanish, French, Swedish and Danish languages in addition to English and Hindi ones. However, I stumbled upon Paava Kadhaigal without neccesarily spurred on by a good review or 'Top 10/20' recommendations.  I did not even know what it meant and which South Indian language was it in. I definitely recommend this to you and don't worry there are no spoilers below that would 'give away the plotline'. 

With so many options available across so many platforms, we had agreed upon a loosely defined parameter of 'is there a grip?' for deciding to watch the whole series or film. Often, S would be the first to leave the series or film if it did not have the so called 'grip'. I would either agree or continue to finish it on my own. Paava Kadhaigal has a different kind of hold on you as a viewer. It is the hold of the land, which holds your hand like someone very familiar and close to you: someone from your family, from your neighbourhood, from your community, from your caste, from your religion, from your region and from your society. Yes, all of these associations are at the core of these four different stories woven together by ties of blood, fraternity and community. 

All the four directors and their teams do a sincere job and the production quality is rather good. The story tellers try to tell the story honestly and eke out the myriad human emotions, reactions, rationale and logic very well. The acting by most of the actors is believable. The background music and songs are excellent and so is the cinematography. 

If you have lived and traveled around India, you would be able to understand the stories, their settings and their contexts as something you have been an integral part of. You would have either seen, experienced or heard about the different conflicts that the stories bring out. You would have had an opinion about the same. You have either been a mute receiver of the traditions and belief system that was handed down to you by your family and community or you would have revolted in your way but you would have been affected nevertheless. Even if some of us might think that we ourselves have not had to face the kind of challenges and violence some of the protagonists face in the stories, we read about them in newspapers and see such stories on TV every now and then about honour killing, inter-caste and inter-religion marriages and their ugly fall-outs. There is also the moving and disturbing story about rape. Whether you have been an actor or a close witness to any or more of such issues is incidental. The conflict between the protagonists and their families about something as pivotal as love, marriage and spending life together, is relatable because all of us have had conflicts, resolved and unresolved with the people whom we love and care about the most. All of us have seen one or more of such relationships change from purest form of unselfish love to extreme bitterness, hatred and even physical violence. 

There are also strong characters and pillars of strength, positivity and hope as there are thankfully in life. The expressions of some of the strongest human feelings between mother and children, father and daughter, between sisters, among friends and lovers create an interesting roller-coster of emotions that would keep you in the 'grip' of the stories. I realised while writing this piece that the name literally means 'Stories of Sin'. Yes, if you look at the context of Indian culture, the word 'Sin' is appropriate. Only something as grave, unpardonable as 'Sin' necessitates such drastic reaction and violence of mind and action. Yet, 'sin' is usually something that has a method of 'repentance'; a particular way of undoing the harm that has been done by the person on himself/herself (mind you, the gender has significant importance here!) and the family and community at large. Only, who defines what is 'sin' and what is 'right' and with what reference points, becomes the moot issue. Unfortunately, in this series of stories the people who see and define 'sin' diametrically differently are people of the same family, separated often  by only a generation or outlook. 

Paava Kadhaigal. Strongly recommended. 

chacha aur 'new normal'

कोई ख़ास सामान नहीं होता था चाचा का, साइकिल पे एक रंग-बिरंगी धागों का डब्बा, दोपहर का खाना और पानी की एक खाली बोतल लेकर सुबह-सुबह चले आते थे।  दूकान या छत के नाम पर पीले रंग का एक तिकोना पॉलिथीन बिजली के खम्बे से बांधे हुए थे जिसके नीचे बैठकर चाचा अपनी सिलाई का काम करते थे। सिलाई का काम उनका इकलौता काम नहीं था।  पार्क के पास बैठने के कारण उनके कई और काम भी थे, मसलन - ड्राइवरों और डिलीवरी बॉयज को घरों के पते बताना, मेहमानों को गाड़ी पार्किंग करने की जगह बताना, म्युनिसिपेलिटी की गाड़ी को कचरे की दिशा में भेजना, छोटे बच्चों को डराते हुए गली के कुत्तों को डांटना, उन्हीं कुत्तों को फिर घरों से दिया हुआ खाना शाम को बांटना इत्यादि। इन कामों के लिए उन्हें कोई पारिश्रमिक नहीं मिलता था। 

चाचा छोटी-मोटी सिलाई-कढ़ाई का काम ही करते थे, जैसे पतलून लम्बी या छोटी करना, कमीज़ें ढीली या तंग करना, साढ़ी में फॉल लगाना, कपड़ों में  में रफू करना इत्यादि।  चाचा को किसीने पूरी-पूरी सूट सीलते हुए नहीं देखा, वो तमाम काम मैन मार्किट के टेलर लोगों का था जिनके पास बढ़िया दुकानें थीं और जहाँ पहुँचते ही चाय या ठंडा पुछा जाता था। चाचा के यहाँ ऐसी फ़िज़ूल चीज़ों का कोई प्रावधान नहीं था। मैन मार्किट के टेलर्स फाइन डाइन तो चाचा नुक्कड़ वाली चाइनीज़ फ़ास्ट फ़ूड। अब ऐसे छोटे-मोटे कामों के एवज़ में मिले पैसों से चाचा का घर परिवार कैसे चलता था ये अनुमान लगाना मुश्किल था। 

चाचा ने इस कॉलोनी को क्यों अपना कर्मक्षेत्र मान लिया था इसकी खबर भी किसी को नहीं थी।  चाचा कबसे उस कॉलोनी में बैठते हैं ये कोई ठीक से नहीं जानता था। किसी ने पुछा ही नहीं, सब को लगता था जैसे चाचा हमेशा से उस कॉलोनी के छोटे से पार्क का ही एक अभिन्न हिस्सा हैं। चाचा के पास हमेशा कॉलोनी का कोई न कोई होता या चाचा कहीं न कहीं होते। या तो वो लोगों का दिया हुआ सिलाई का काम करते थे या किसी रेड़ीवाले, कबाड़ी वाले या कामवाली बायीओं से सलाह मश्वरा करते हुए पाए जाते।  चाचा वैसे तो काम से काम रखने वाले थे और पूछने पर ही कुछ जानकारी देते थे पर कॉलोनी में सभी चाचा को मानते थे और कुछ नहीं तो गाडी के शीशे नीचे करके दुआ-सलाम कर निकल जाते। चाचा को चाय-पानी की कोई दिक्कत नहीं होती। पड़ोस के दो-चार घरों ने मानों चाचा को अपने चाय के साथ शामिल कर लिया था।  चाय के वक़्त कोई काम नहीं होता।  चाय के वक़्त सिर्फ चाय। 

चाचा के पीछे की पार्क की दीवार एक टेम्पररी स्टोर का काम करते थे।  अगर चाचा न बैठे हों तो किसी अपरिचित के लिए ये अनुमान लगाना मुश्किल हो जाता की यहाँ होता क्या है।  उस दीवार पर कभी एक दो कपडे टंगे होते, कभी कोई पार्सल, कभी सब्ज़ी की थैली, कभी दूध का एक पैकेट, एक झाड़ू, पानी की बोतल और रंग-बिरंगी धागों का डब्बा। असल में चाचा कई लोगों के लिए वो काम कर देते जो आम तौर पर पडोसी करते हैं, जैसे - उनका पार्सल या चिट्ठी रख लेना, उनके बच्चों पर पार्क में खेलते वक़्त नज़र रखना, किसी के घर कोई सामान पहुंचा देना इत्यादि। किसी त्यौहार के वक़्त चाचा ज़्यादा व्यस्त पाए जाते और ख़ास कर शादी-ब्याह के मामलों में चाचा के पास बाकी कामों के अलावा सिलाई का काम भी ज़्यादा होता। कॉलोनी के घरों और उनमे काम करने या काम ढूंढने वालों के बीच चाचा एक एहम कड़ी थे।  किसी को झाड़ू-पोंछा लगाने को कोई चाहिए तो किसीको खाना बनाने के लिए तो किसीको मालिश के लिए। कॉलोनी में नए आये हुए परिवारों के लिए तो इन मामलों में चाचा वरदान वरदान साबित होते।  फिर काम ढूंढने वालों के लिए भी चाचा एम्प्लॉयमेंट - एक्सचेंज का काम करते और सप्लाई तो डिमांड के साथ जोड़ते। लोकल पुलिस को भी कई बार चाचा के पास खड़े हो कर चाय की चुस्की लेते हुए लोगों ने देखा है।  

कोरोना महामारी के बाद लगाए गए लोखड़ौन के दिनों चाचा नज़र नहीं आये। लोखड़ौन के हटने के एक-दो हफ्ते के बाद भी चाचा नज़र नहीं आये।  नज़र आता तो सिर्फ चाचा का पीला पॉलिथीन जिसपर धीरे धीरे सूखे पत्तों का ढेर जमा हो गया था। चाचा को मोबाइल फ़ोन का इस्तेमाल करते किसी ने नहीं देखा था तो उनका हाल-चाल पता करना मुश्किल था और ये वक़्त भी ऐसा था के जब इंसान अपने और सिर्फ अपनों के बारे में ही सोच सकता था। संक्रमण के भय से अपनों को सहायता करना भी दूभर था। लोग घरों में रहने और कुछ न करने को वीरता, शौर्य और राष्ट्र-सेवा का कार्य बताते थे। हाँ कुछ लोगों को, जैसे डॉक्टर, नर्सेज, पुलिस वाले, सब्ज़ीवाले, डिलीवरी करने वाले, कचरे वाले,  एक नया ख़िताब मिल गया था - फ्रंट-लाइन वर्कर्स और समाज उन्हें कुछ ज़्यादा सम्मान के नज़रों से देखने लगा था और उन लोगों के लिए थाली-बर्तन पीटना, दिए जलाना और सोशल मीडिया पे मीम बनाने में व्यस्त हो गया था। पर अगर यही लोग कभी कोरोना से संक्रमित हो जाएं तो उनका सुपरहीरो स्टेटस छीन जाता और उन्हें कभी-कभी सामाजिक बहिस्कार का भी सामना करना पड़ता। 

तीन-चार हफ़्तों के बाद चाचा अपनी पॉलिथीन के छत को साफ़ करते दिखाई पड़े और बहुत संभल के अपनी मशीन फिट की और अपना रूटीन चालू करने के इंतज़ार में बैठ गए । पर अब काफी कुछ बदल चूका था। न चाचा के पास कोई सिलाई का काम होता था न ही बात करने को लोग। चाचा के बाकी काम भी लोगों के घरों में बंद रहने के कारण ख़त्म हो गए थे या बहुत कम हो गए थे।  सड़क पर गाड़ियां कम थी, लोग एक-दूसरे के घर भी कम आ-जा रहे थे।  त्यौहार भी बस नाम को त्यौहार रह गए थे।  चाचा घंटों खाली बैठे रहते या थोड़ा पार्क में चल लेते।  चाचा कभी कभी पार्क की बेंच पर बैठ कर चिड़ियों की आवाज़ सुनते और देओदार के पेड़ों में उन चिड़ियों की आवाज़ों और उनकी शक्लों को मिलाने का काम करते। अब पार्क में बच्चे भी खेलने नहीं आते, न ही दोपहर को सास और बहुओं की किट्टी होती और न ही बाइयों की यूनियन की मीटिंग। काम के तलाश में घुमते हुए कोई मज़दूर या दूसरे लोग कभी कभी उनके पास खड़े बात करते दिख पड़ते पर ऐसा अक्सर प्रतीत होता की बात आगे बढ़ी नहीं और वो लोग अपने रस्ते चले जाते और चाचा रह जाते अकेले। चाचा की चाय भी अब घरों से नहीं आती थी। चाचा अब पानी का भरा हुआ बोतल अपने साथ भर के लाते और खाली बोतल ले जाते।  चाचा को नहीं मालूम था की ये "न्यू नार्मल " है।  

एक दो हफ़्तों के बाद चाचा फिर दिखाई नहीं पड़े। हम अपनी बालकनी से रोज़ झांकते और सोचते की कहीं चाचा खुद तो कोरोना के चपेट में नहीं आ गए। पता करने का कोई तरीका भी नहीं था और न ही ये काम किसी के "अति आवश्यक " केटेगरी में आता था जैसा की कॉलर टुन की महिला बताती थी। चाचा की पॉलिथीन पर अब पत्तों का एक बहुत बड़ा ढेर जमा हो गया था और चाचा के पीछे वाली पार्क की दीवार बिलकुल खाली हो गयी थी। अब ऐसा लगता था की यहाँ पर कभी कुछ था ही नहीं। चाचा की स्टोरी सोशल मीडिया के लायक नहीं थी या कॉलोनी के लोगों ने कोशिश नहीं की पर चाचा अब कई महीनों से नहीं आये थे। ऐसा भी नहीं था की चाचा के नहीं आने से लोगों का कोई काम रुकता था । चाचा थे तो ठीक था, अब नहीं हैं तो ये भी ठीक है। 

लोग अपने-अपने तरीके से कोरोना की वजह से बने नए आर्थिक और सामाजिक समीकरण को समझ रहे थे और उसके अनुसार काम  कर रहे थे। सरकार चुनावी वायदे करने में लग गयी थी - हज़ारों करोड़ों रुपयों के रिलीफ पैकेज की घोषणायें हो रही थीं; बड़े पूंजीपति इसे बड़ा अवसर बता रहे थे और बड़े  निवेश, कंपनियों की खरीद-फरोक में लगे थे; अमीर और अमीर हो रहे थे, ग़रीब और ग़रीब। मीडिया ने पुलिस का काम करने का निर्णय कर लिया था और सोशल मीडिया और वेबिनारस के माध्यम से लोग बिना पूछे ही अपनी राय और ज्ञान देने में व्यस्त थे। सरकारी आंकड़ों के हिसाब से हर रोज़ अमूमन 1000-1200 लोग मर रहे थे और 60,000-70,000 लोग संक्रमित हो रहे थे; इसे रोकने का कोई ठोस उपाय या प्लान न सरकार के पास था न श्वास्थ एजेंसियों  के पास। बेरोज़गारी और मज़दूरों का कोई डाटा ही सरकार के पास नहीं था तो उनकी ज़िम्मेदारी से सरकार ने अपने को बरी कर दिया था। 

सब इस "न्यू नॉर्मल " के साथ एडजस्ट कर रहे थे।  शायद चाचा एडजस्ट नहीं कर पाए।  

based on real incidents and most likely (un)real facts !

The fall of life

Bijoy and Suchitra drove into a mall in an area where they first moved in after their marriage many years back. They now live in their own house, a big apartment, little far from the centre of the city, where they live a typical retired life. This was their first outing from house in a long time. Bioy’s bouts of high fevers had come and gone of its own for several months; undiagnosed by doctors but that affected Bijoy and Suchitra equally, physically and mentally. After so many years of togetherness they realised that whether it is a physical or mental pain one partner isn't affected alone; everything affects all.

Suchitra was pleasantly surprised that Bijoy agreed easily to her idea of stepping out of the house. Bijoy was actually keen to give Suchitra a reprieve from the routine of caregiving that had become their life - checking temperature, taking medicines, taking carefully prepared diets, visits to doctors and sitting for long hours together in which they would say nothing but understand everything. 

Bijoy wanted to drive the car and Suchitra agreed as she knew this would make him happy. Nostalgia filled Suchitra’s eyes as they saw young, newly wed couples in the mall. You could always tell them from others - excitement jumping in their eyes, a spruce in their steps, eager to set their homes, looking at different options, discussing colours, designs - ‘where it fit it the home’, ‘what needs to be bought next’, ‘what will go well with what’.

Many years back, they had done the same when Suchitra came to Delhi after their marriage and was busy setting up Bijoy’s one room ‘barsaati’. This energy continues even into the other rented houses they moved in, adding furniture, paintings, vases, kitchen items, glasses, cutlery and many many things collected over the years. They had always carefully thought about the things, chosen, selected and bought the things together. All the things in their home, truly belonged to both of them. They were more of memory aides - they would often slip into past, when Suchitra would be dusting or cleaning one of them and recall how they had bought or arranged for a thing, how they decided the design, where they got it from and how they or at least Suchitra bargained for the price. 

Suchitra was very happy to see a beautifully set up store with colour co-ordinated themes and aesthetically designed objects which were of liking to both's tastes. There were many objects of utility as well. She went from one floor to the other and came down, touching the objects, flipping some, looking at price tags, marvelling at them, commenting on the design, comparing sizes and keeping them back. Bijoy kept pace with Suchitra despite his weakness and nodded in agreement or remained silent in disapproval.
He finally muttered ‘You have inspected pretty much the entire store. Won’t you take anything?’
‘I feel we have everything. Don’t you?’ Suchitra looked up at him from the corner of her eye.
‘Yeah, I mean we may not have some of the new designs or patterns, but we more or less have everything we need’, Bijoy gave a wry smile.
‘Right, I just want this ‘peeler’. This should make the toughest part of cutting fruits for you in the morning easy.’ Suchitra smiled back.

As they drove back, Suchitra reflected upon their conversation and wondered if they really had everything they need!  Yes, one always has new desires and there many things you would have otherwise but they were more or less content. They had thought of many plans of either settling in some other city - there were debates about whether it should be a city near sea or in the mountains but there was nothing that created an aching or longing in them now. There was nothing missing. On the road, she saw a big tree that had lost all its leaves and was making a brilliant picture against the bright blue sky with its dry, white-grey branches spread out of a massive trunk. She wondered if this was the effect of fall or the tree had been like this forever.
After they came home, they had lunch and rested for a while in the afternoon. Bijoy suggested they go for a walk in the park. Now it was Suchitra’s turn to agree and she put out a nice cotton saree and a matching blouse to wear. Bijoy was putting on his kurta and pyjamas and remarked
‘We are only going to the park’
‘I know, but I haven’t worn this saree for ages and its not like we are going for a run or something. Why can't I put on a nice saree’ Suchitra replied.

'Yes, why not ! you certainly can.' Bijoy was happy.

The park was busier than usual. It seemed that the local residents had organised a small outdoor gathering. The kids were running around with their playthings, the womenfolk were busy chatting and taking out savouries from the beautiful picnic bags, the men were eating and playing cards. Bijoy and Suchitra were watching all of them sitting at a bench silently. There were a few dogs that slipped in and out of the bench next to them, there were a few birds chirping happily that they have come home, the sun was resting on the western horizon, taking a last look at this part of the world and blowing a farewell kiss towards everyone through the cool evening breeze.

Suchitra saw a gush of dry yellow leaves from a neem tree fall down next to where Bijoy was sitting. The leaves formed beautiful patterns while falling, rolling about their axis, aided by the mischievous breeze. The fall continued for a while. Suchitra thought about the trees and fall. It is their way of the old making way for the new. The trees shed away their leaves and flowers and fruit and become dry and lifeless during the fall. One may associate feeling of sadness and loss with it, but is it not a preparation for the new life, new leaves to blossom. This is the way with the trees - they remain constant with the source/fountain of life within them while changes continue on the surface - leaves fall, leaves grow again, flowers bloom, become fruits and the fruits are taken away; the cycle repeats.

Suchitra reflected on their lives and the morning visit to the mall; they have grown and accumulated many things, possessions, small and big. Maybe it is time for them to give away some of those things to people who may need it and utilise it more. After all, how many things do two old people need. Maybe that will make way for new experiences for them or a new life.

ऊम्र

Meri sufaid zulfon se meri umr ko ishaara mat de, 

Umr ka dhalna koi buri baat nahi.

Ke din dhalta hai, 

To suhaani shaam hoti hai aur,

Dhup me tape badan ko thoda aaraam,

Pareshaan man ko pursukoon, 

Aur aasmaan mein bhatakte panchii

Ko lautne ko ghar milta hai. 

Mera tazurba, meri jad-o-jehad,

Meri shikasht, meri fateh ki,

Kahaniyan kehti hain meri jhurriyan, 

Inhe budhape ki nishaani mat bata.  

Umr ka ek padav jab pura hota hai

To naye padav ki shuruaat hoti hai

Savere ka suraj

Tab ufak pe apni laali bikherta hai 

Jab raat sabse kaali hoti hai.   

Hey Ram

"ek bharoso, ek bal, ek aas-biswas;

ek ram-ghamshyam hit chaatak tulsidas."

I will start with my own personal association with the concept of Ram and some of my reactions to what is happening or rather what has been happening in Ram's name and also in my (and other Hindu's) name. My earliest memories are sweet, innocent, set in a small house, with my grandmother, in my ancestral village, next to Bhubaneswar. Ramayana - the story of Lord Ram was my first education and thankfully in my mother tongue Odiya which I learnt from my grandparents and parents. My grandmother and I used to sit together and go through this illustrated book with beautiful drawings of different events of the Lord's life and next to these pictures were rhyming couplets in large fonts, which are firmly imprinted in my memory. There was a similar book on Mahabharata too. I loved these stories and gulped them down with an eagerness only a kid of that age could have. My grandparents were very proud of my interest and most likely my memory of mythology. I remember on one occasion, my grandfather and his friends, well into their late sixties and seventies, could not resolve a contentious issue among them related to mythology - "who was the son of who" or "who was the wife or who" kind of stuff. These were days when Google wasn't there. I was called in proudly by my grandfather, to give my opinion on what I thought was the right answer till someone fetched a book to check the facts. No sooner had they finished the question and much before that gentleman could search the book I had given my verdict from my memory. So much for #rotelearning. I had no formal education in Odiya after that. Oh, I was correct by the way!

I revisited Ram and his story from different perspectives in school and in college. Delving a bit deeper into the aspects of his conduct as an ideal human being. Reading the works of saints and poets such as Valmiki, Tulsi, Kabir and others.  The concept of Lord Ram as the perfect man "maryada purushottam", an avatara with a definitive purpose to show human beings how to live and conduct them selves; whose acts, behaviour and character was held up high there for all of us to emulate. It was the ideal that one had to strive for and I was always an idealist. So, no matter how low and hard one fell from those standards; how far one was from those lofty goals and how many times one failed, those were the indisputable and perfect standards. One also read some alternative perspectives, especially about the Lord take some untruthful measures for attainment of truth like his killing of Bali in the battle with Sugriva, Mother Sita's test of purity by the fire and subsequent treatment of Lord's own children Lava and Kusha. But, mainstream perspectives are mainstream for the same reason always - they are the dominant majority (mark these two words). 

Anyway, the ideal remained where it should be and my life flowed with further studies, work, travel, relationships and experiences. I was not too particular about rituals, though I carried my set of Gods  (small pictures) wherever I travelled;  which was quite often in early days of my consulting carrier. That was the reason I always carried my shoes in a separate bag; something my colleagues often made fun of. I was reading a lot of books on spiritualism, duality, personal and impersonal God, God with form and without form etc. Ram remained a central figure though and whenever I prayed I did invoke shlokas and couplets from Ramcharitmanas. A sense of balance, a source of guidance when one was in doubt. "jehi vidhi rahe Ram, tehi vidhi rahiye" (do as the Lord would do!). Not that one always did. Sometimes the will wasn't strong enough, sometimes one gave into indolence and more often than not it was the temptations one could not resist. However, the deeper meanings of the stories and tales of Lord were revealed to me through my readings and I often visualised the peaceful image of Lord with Mother Sita, brothers and Hanuman for my attempts at chanting, praying and meditating. 

I made a visit to Ayodhya in 2008. It was a short, solo train trip from Lucknow and I so wanted to visit this place which was in the centre of such divisive politics, communal violence and controversy. I was vaguely aware of the Babri Masjid demolition, the physical act, the political agenda behind it and the violence it incited in the aftermath. The indecisiveness of courts, the continuous whipping up of the issue for political benefits and the stall mate throughout the subsequent years either made me ignore the matter for the sheer spectacle it had become or brought my focus to the more personal and spiritual side of my faith. By this time, I did not go to a holy place just to fulfil some rituals, pray for specific things, appreciate the architecture or location or have the prasad. It was all of the above but also seeking a deeper connection with all those seekers who have come to these places with so much faith, positive thoughts and devotion, ultimately seeking more insight and realisation for me. I have this habit of meandering a bit before coming to point. So, I went around the 'tourist spots' of the city such as Hanuman garhi, the ghats etc. It was extremely hot and humid and I could find solace and respite only when I had a stomach full of nice and simple food for lunch at 'Sita Rasoi'. 

As I moved to the site of 'Ram Lalla', it was natural to have a great sense of expectation build up, simply due to sheer amount of press, politics and power associated with this spot. Well, my first impression was that was of an army camp or a security fortress. There were so many layers of security and it was so rigorous that it was difficult to feel spiritual or religious at that time. It was not the crowds; that any average Indian is used to at famous temples and pilgrimage sites. The security at every check-point were alert, they did their job fastidiously and at some point we had to even deposit our wallet! This was serious now: since in most temples, you may not be allowed belts, leather watches but the priests always allowed the wallets and purses. You know why. 

Anyway, I made my way through, touched one after another bulky, brusque and smelly security personnel. I could count upto five of them and after that I was like "okay, whatever". I finally neared the sacred spot and no sooner had a chance to look at the idol, I was whisked away. Again, this is not new to an Indian, pilgrim who stands in long, serpentine lines to catch a glimpse of his beloved and revered diety. The wait, the anticipation, all add to the uniqueness and divineness of the moment he comes face to face with the Lord. He often sings, chants, concentrates during his wait, so that the wait and then the "darshan" are all a part of unbroken experience that he will cherish. It was difficult to do that here. With so many interruptions by the security and more importantly with your attention being more focussed on the site, the controversy, the socio-political and religious tension about the whole matter, it was difficult to concentrate on the Lord himself in the "sanctum sanctorum" of one's heart. I wrapped up my visit with some wonderful samosas, chai and other snacks before heading back to my hotel in Lucknow. 

I have often wondered ever since, would it not have been better if all the money that has been spent so far in litigations, propaganda, campaigns and all the money that will be spent in future on temple or mosque, would have been better spent on a large charitable hospital or school where people and children of all faith could come and benefit from the services of health and/or education. Lord Ram or Allah would not have been happier? But such arguments and logics have always been brushed aside by more serious sounding arguments in favour of defence spendings, building large statues, renaming roads, cities etc. "They are not the same thing" or worse "this is of national importance" is the retort one gets. As if affordable education and health are not. But who cares about such softer, non-populist and non-newsworthy initiatives/projects. So, my thoughts remained with me.  

Few years later, I travelled to the beautiful town of Orchha in the Bundelkhand region, where the Lord is not worshipped as much as God as the ruler of the place - Raja Ram. The government, the law and order and rules are all in the name of Lord - Raja Ram Sarkar !  A simple village woman sitting next to me on a beautiful evening while we were watching the sun go down between the black Chhatris (cenotaph) remarked "Sat nahin rehto bhaisaab, Ram kahan rahen", (there is no truth, where would Lord be!) when I asked if any of these small temples had the idol of Ram in it. I can not forget the truth in her eyes and words. I spent the rest of the evening in a beautiful aarti at the Raja Ram temple. 

The Supreme Court's final judgement on the matter came in 2019 and everyone said we will welcome the court's judgement. Frankly, what other option anyone had! The temple will be built by Government of India at the contested site of Ram Janmbhoomi by and an alternative site will be given to Sunni Waqf board for mosque. How this judgement completely abrogates the judgement of Allahabad high court, which in 2010 ordered the disputed site to be shared equally in three parts with 1/3rd each going to Ram Lalla represented by Hindu Mahasabha, the Waqf board and Nirmohi Amhara within a matter of nine years and in light of what new facts, evidence and witness and how new party i.e. the government of India comes into the picture, is something more learned and legally-well-versed friends would know. But the writing is on the wall - probably a wall built by bricks of some other wall which was brought down. 

Now, Supreme Court could decide upon things such as who had the land rights, who had the "papers", whether the Babri masjid was build upon a 'indigenous structure', whether the temple was built upon something else etc. But, it only went as far as calling the demolition of Babri masjid in 1992 "a violation of law". A ghastly incident which in it's aftermath claimed around 2000 lives at different locations in the country; both Muslims and Hindus. Should those who were responsible for the act that instigated so much communal violence and hatred not be brought to justice? Should there not be a closure to that indisputable act with this judgement? 

It is not as if there has not been enquiries into that aspect. There was Justice Liberian commission who found around 68 people clearly complicit including the senior most leaders of the BJP. The commission took 16 years and around 400 sittings to come to a report! How many more years are going to take for any action to be taken? Many of those were and some are still presiding over serious matters of our state - home affairs, defence, education etc. Isn't the absurdity obvious. 

Seems so far away from Ram or Ram Lalla isn't it. Who was Ram? The inimitable Kabir talks about four kinds of Ram: 

"ek Ram Dasrath ka beta, ek Ram ghat ghat mein baitha, 

Teeje Ram ka sakal pasara, chautha Ram sab se nyaara!"  

There is a Ram that we all know as son of king Dasarath, the husband of Sita, the brother of Lakshaman, father of Lav-Kush.  Would he want this piece of Land? He who did not think even twice before leaving his entire kingdom (this very Ayodhya), crown, comforts of palace and love of his citizen before venturing into the jungle to live a life of austerity and simplicity. Who travelled all through this land (all over India) you have places like Chitrakoot, Panchavati etc. with stories of Sita rasoi, sita-kund etc. and finally conquered the ten-headed Ravana with help of monkey-soilders. Raja Ram, who as king was so concerned about the apprehensions of a common citizen like a dhobi (washerman), even about someone as close and powerful as the Queen Mother Sita, that he ensured that his concerns are addressed. Would he have approved of getting any land like this? Much less something in his name? 

The second Ram, says Kabir is residing in every corner, every heart, every life. He is all-pervading, omnipresent and is not bound by the constraints of time and space. Someone like that could not be bothered with a particular piece of land, a temple or any architecture for that matter. What different does it make to him? 

The third Ram is the energy, is the light behind all living and non-living beings. From him come all, and he is at the atomic, sub-atomic level same with all things and all beings. He is present in all things at all time, changing, transforming from one form of energy to another. Even death or life, destruction or creation have no significance for him. Surely not for him. 

The fourth Ram, Kabir says, is different and special to everything else. He is beyond the experience of what we know thorough our ten senses, he is beyond the reach of words, poetry and imagination, he is inscrutable by intellect and rituals. So, I won't delve more into that as even the great Kabir simply leaves as " sabse nyaara", how do you describe a realisation to someone who don't have any comparable experiences to understand the same. This Ram would need a particular piece of land? Someone who is neither born, nor dead; who was there and who will be there always. What significant does a particular avatara's so called birth place have for him?

Okay, then comes the classic response. "Not for God. We stand for him. In his name! In his followers name". Now, I don't have to repeat how many millions of lives have been lost to countless wars and bloodbath we have seen in this world in the name of [ xx something YY]. So, I do not want to listen this was in my name - as a Hindu, as a devotee of Ram. I was not asked what I wanted. I rest my case. 

The template of the morning

I witness it every day
this beautiful template of yours
of morning.

This spread-out canvas of sky,
you use so well.
With colours from the sun
the mountains, the sea and the flowers.
Wide, bold stokes of clouds
created by the brush of lush trees
which sway from one end to the other
as you use them.
And your favourite part of the sky,
the horizon!
How it changes its colour to match
the mountains, the sea and the flowers.

Your template has music too,
noise and rhythm,
of the birds chirping, singing
and taking to each other.
They have so much to say,
as they hop from one tree to the other
or sit on the branches and look intently
as if trying to follow the tune of their
other band members.
What do they sing O Lord!
Must be discussing matters of the day
sorting out issues, raising concerns,
shouting out friends, professing love
With their chirping, singing
and taking to each other.

The bright stars of the night
have come down to the earth
as fresh dewdrops
and lie scattered like lovely pearls
on the blades of grass
and on petals of flowers.
Finding them within its reach,
the soothing morning breeze
caresses the dew drops,
and plays with them
as they run down shyly
on the surface of the
blades of grass and
the petals of flowers.

I witness it all
in the silence of my mind and soul
and wonder.
How do you create every day so different,
so beautiful,
with the same elements,
the same template of the morning.
I guess you are trying to tell us
ever so subtly and silently
to make our days and lives
different and yet beautiful
with the same elements,
the same template of the morning.

A visit to Kohima war cemetery

Sabhi ka khoon hai shaamil yahan ki mitti mein,

Kisi ke baap ka ye Hindustaan thode hai !

Dr. Rahat Indori

These lines have found resonance with certain sections of our population in the light of some of the recent political developments, especially around identity - NRC, CAA, NPR and whatever one may choose to call it. Who is the "original" citizen and who "came from outside"?

The question is very simple with respect to international travel and a necessary document called Passport would give simple answers to that question and Immigration and VISA offices across the world will take note and either welcome, detain or deport. But, when this question is asked of people living in a particular landmass, say a village, town, city or state, there could be some complications.

The first being, "Why?". Okay, the government has the right to ask. So, let's move on. We will revisit this in a bit. Second, is of  "When?", of the timeline. The history of mankind is a history of movement. Of people moving physically, moving their cattle, possessions, language, food, clothes and ways of living with them. So, everyone came from somewhere or is going somewhere. In all likelihood, except the tribal population who have continued to live in and around the same place where their forefathers, the very first of them lived. Even, among them, the nomads and pastoral community move quite a bit and have a very different lifestyle. So, you or your parents or grandparents might be living in this place for a hundred years or two hundred, what about say 500 or 800 or 1500 years back, would you know? Where did that person come from? What language he spoke, what was his religion? His food habits? His culture? Also, if you are living here (could be any city, state) today, where would your children and grandchildren be? Can you bet they would not move to another city, state or country ? Oh, they would go formally, through proper channels! Immigrants all the same. Useful to remember another beautiful quote by a great statesman Franklin D. Roosevelt comes to mind in such troubling times. “Remember, remember always, that all of us, and you and I especially, are descended from immigrants and revolutionists.”

Well, I had a very interesting reflection on these topics on a bright, sunny, February morning at Kohima while I was taking a walk at the War Cemetery. Here, at the heart of this beautiful state capital of Nagaland, lies this beautiful and serene War Cemetery. The cemetery is at the location where a decisive battle was won by the Allied Forces during the Second World War, forcing the Japanese army to retreat. 

Reaching Kohima during April 1944, the Japanese 15th Army occupied a strategic location on Garrison Hill and continually attacked a small contingent of the Commonwealth forces, which successfully held their ground until reinforcements were brought in. In the battle at the tennis ground (now marked by white concrete lines) of the Deputy Commissioner's bungalow (which was destroyed during the war), which also involved hand-to-hand fighting between the opposing forces, the Commonwealth forces prevailed over the Japanese forces and forced them to retreat in defeat. There were heavy casualties on both sides. (but) This battle was the turning point for the Allied forces. (Source: Wikipedia)

While the road outside is busy, there is a calmness and serenity of air once you step in and start looking at the well-manicured grass lawns, the winding, stony pathways and the flower plants, mostly red roses. According to the Commonwealth War Graves Commission (CWGC), which maintains this cemetery among many others in the world, there are 1,420 Commonwealth burials of the Second World War at this cemetery, and a memorial to an additional 917 Hindu and Sikh soldiers who were cremated in accordance with their faith. The memorials are in the form of stone markers embedded with bronze plaques carrying the name of each Commonwealth soldier who died on the Kohima battlefield. 

It is when you start looking at the seemingly uniform epitaphs that you enter a different metaphysical world. You may start from anywhere and initially these may seem quite uniform, military-style and you may be capturing the names of regiment, persons and symbols along with the messages and words written on them. Some of them are deeply personal, touching and one is bound to be moved by the sincerity of them - often by a father, a wife, a sister, family member or friends. 

While the plaques are uniform in nature, the messages and their variety will create vivid pictures in your mind and keep you engaged. These memorials truly reflect the Commonwealth or the British Raj of those times. The soldiers who laid down their lives were from Britain, Scotland, India (all of India), Sri Lanka belonging to different faiths.

There was Gyan Bahdur Limbu, 7th Gurkha Rifles, age twenty-two. I repeat twenty-two. 

Corporal Fletcher, Manchester Regiment, age twenty-six. 

Captain Mitchel, of Rajput Regiment with a beautiful message "We have fought the good fight. Grant to us, eternal rest, O Lord!"

There was a Mr. Mathew, there was Muhammad Sakhi and many more.  

Some of the other messages were 

"When you go home tell them of us and say for your tomorrow we gave our today"

Yet, there were many that did not have names or their religion could not have been established. They were simply named 'A soldier of the 1939-45 War. Known to God'

So, this land, this country, belongs to all of them. They have lost their lives, fed this earth with their bones and blood. Their children, grandchildren, their neighbours, friends are all here. With or without papers or documents. A nation is not a paper or a few letters written down on a passport. It is  far more. It is an idea, shared ideal rather for which people are willing to travel thousands of miles to risk it all and lay down their lives. Fight shoulder to shoulder, as soldiers, as brothers, in life and in death, without any other thought than that of valour and victory. A nation is that what unites, binds us together.

badi takleef hoti hai

Wo log jo apne haq ke liye 

Sadak par utar aye hain..

Kya wo nahin samajhte 

Kitna time waste hota hai 

Hum busy logon ka 

Traffic jam pe phas kar

Economic productivity bhi affect hoti hai

Isi ke karan to slowdown ho raha hai 

Warna 'sab theek hai' 

'Achhe din bhi hain' 

Bas ye kuch gumrah log, students 

aur anti-nationals ka propaganda dekhkar 

Badi takleef hoti hai .

Badi takleef hoti hai sachhi..

Illegal immigrants jab desh ka GDP 

Kum kar dete hain na, kha jate hain. 

Wo nahin hote to humare bank accounts mein 

15 lakh or Indian National bonus mil jaata 

Wo humaare gharon mein kaam karte hain

Wo humari taxi aur gadiyan chalaate hain

Humari factories mein labour bante hai 

'Poha' khaate hain aur khilaate hain 

Par wo ghuspaithiye hain na! 

Tabhi badi takleef hoti hai. 

Inko bahar bhejna hoga 

Chahe jo bhi keemat ho 

Chukana hoga 

Ek hi ghar ke logon ko baantna ho

To bhi baantenge 

Khudko Indian saabit karne ko kagaz dikhaana ho

To dikhayenge 

Farzi banwane pade 

To banwayenge

Gharon se nikaal kar logon ko 

Detention centre mein rakhna pade 

To rakhenge. 

Rozi roti cheen kar unki 

Agar zillat ki zindagi bitaane pe majboor karna pade 

To karenge.

Kyunki badi takleef hoti hai. 

Aisa hume bola gaya hai! 

democracy and public institutions and process

That the levels of public discourse and language have stooped to hooliganism, outright abuse and unacceptable civic behaviour and manner is not so much of a shock. After all, many of them are simply put criminals or of criminal backgrounds (proven or otherwise) and more certainly of criminal mindsets. What is of a bigger concern is the absolute dysfunction, neutralizing and debasement of public and constitutional institutions. To make matters worse, some of them are often engaged in a bid to outdo each other in phsychopancy and becoming an instrument in the hands of the powers of the day - the government and even the ruling party.

"Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely" someone said long before and we have had many instances across different ages, times, geographies and nation states where we witnessed macabre forms of abuse of power. The sinister designs and demands of such fascist, totalitarian and authoritarian regimes are such. We need to simple look back a few years or look around to see evidence of how such designs were implemented. They will look to manipulate public opinion, control means and resources for few, decimate opposition of any kind whether in parliaments, streets or media (these days, social media as well) and yes all of it in your name (race, religion, country, whatever works wherever). "If you oppose us you are anti-national" "go to another country if this doesn't suit you" "annihilate the opposition and the ones that do not fall in line". You can see the pattern if you want to. 

However, it is to safeguard against such planned and wilful misuse of powers, that the constitution has set up mechanisms and institutions which act as guardians of the very fabric of democracy.

Institutions such as the Election Commission, the Judiciary, the CBI, the Police, the Information Commission and others. Some of them have been set up by governments by acts of legislation. 

I agree, institutions, process and systems have not been the best selling products of the India brand, but they have been there, and more often than not , their doggedness, sticky-ness, cumbersome-ness and the sheer number of them, have been written and discussed about in abundance. I for one, belong to a bunch called consultants who talk and even earn out of the poor state of governance, systems and processes. But, we have also had traditions and patches of excellence in all such institutions. 

Election Commission under TN Sheshan had teeth and used to bite when required; the judiciary had the righteousness and courage to call the election of a member of Parliament, none other than Prime Minister of the country - a certain Indira Gandhi illegal; the CBI has often successfully convicted and put the seemingly insurmountable and all-resourceful behind bars; the simple RTI query gave the common powerless man a right to ask a pertinent question and expect an answer from a high and mighty officer.

A strong and large democracy needs strong and well functioning institutions. Institutions that are independent, unbiased and can outlive a particular exceptional leader. Institutions that have values (yes they do), visions and missions that guide them; processes that are so well-defined that they do not lend to arbitrary misuse and yet allow flexibility and agility; where leadership and accountability is distributed; systems that are stable and yet respond and change with needs of time. Idealistic? Well, democracy is idealistic. 

Ideals are what we must strive for and hence they are enshrined upon the preamble of our constitution. No matter, where we are on the continuum, our trajectory is determined - excellence, ideals and fundamental principles. In a large, diverse and growing democracy there will be violations, excesses and mistakes but there must be processes and institutions to spot such deviations, call them out and have a recourse for correction. These actions must be definitive, time taken must be adequate and yet not delayed, the actors incorruptible and protected from influence. These institutions are hence the watch-dogs, the robin-hoods, the justice-makers, the equalisers and in some cases the healers. 

Unfortunately, this the government and the resourceful also know. Hence, the moment they get an opportunity they systematically try to reduce the institutions to  puppets in their hands and use them to rather their advantage. The CBI, the enforcement directorate, the election commission and police are prime and straightforward examples of that. This must be prevented and yes this must start by people who are at the helm of affairs at such institutions. As was famously determined at the Nuremberg trials (and I was enlightened by an article by Prof. Prabhat Patnaik recently), the plea of 'simply following orders' doesn't work. Every individual can and does operate from his/her own agency of willpower and judgement and that must be the cornerstone of that individual's actions. I will leave this article at that thought. 

the history of statistics - NPR, NCR and other registers

We all know counting was important and probably that contributed to the evolution and further work on mathematics but what necessitated the troubled, much-maligned, less-understood, selectively-fancied world of statistics? What brought words such as 'population', 'sample', 'mean', 'normal', 'probability', 'chance' and other more technical 'standard deviation', 'variance', 't-test', 'chi-square' etc. into popular and not so-popular (only the thick, be-spectacled nerdy professors and their students okay!) use.
Thanks to a wonderful book (I don't have statistics to prove it but I loved it!) called 'Statistics - A graphic guide' by Eileen Magnello (author) and Borin Van loon (illustrator), I spent my weekend on, I  had very interesting and unexpected answers to some of the questions above and some other's which capture the headlines of our newspapers. So, here we go.

"The word "statistics" is derived from Latin status further Italian statista - referring to a statista or statesman - someone concerned with matters of the state. Early statistics were quantitative systems for describing matters of state". So, you see, not just the PhD Scholar who has to submit her dissertation, her professor submitting a paper for a double, blind-peer reviewed journal of repute, the economists aspiring for a nobel prize or highly paid data scientists (we all know by now, what that means and how much that pays!), but everyone who is concerned with matters of the state is a statistic and could be interested in statistics. 

The philosophy behind statistics is actually determinism. "Determinism means that there is meaning and order in the universe." Thus there has to be somethings which confirms to a particular thought, size, shape and then there are things that do not or those that 'vary'.  The earliest application of this was in the field of evolutionary biology (Darwin et al) and the concept of species. So, there has to be an ideal type (usually the average or common) which typologists and taxonomists would classify as a particular special of say moths or insects and then any variation (depending on how much) would confirm as a different species. So, good old Darwin was the first to see evolution as a purely statistically process. This is important. Because, in later times, we the humans tend to define common features as build narratives around the same. We look like this so we are 'whites' or 'blacks' or 'brown' or 'yellow'; we all speak the French language so we are French; we all are 'Aryan' races; we are pure; and yes those who do not fit into 'us and our' definition are 'others'. Statisticians only call them as outliers or call them a different species. But how do we deal with the 'others'?

Now, it is natural that counting people or undertaking census was one of the oldest uses and application of statistics. People in Babylon, Egypt and China all collected statistical information about there people. But the purpose is important - to collect taxes and determine number of people/men who could be enlisted in military. The word Census is derived from Roman Censors - people whose duty was to count people. The censors maintained a register of Roman citizens and their property. Scandinavian countries did this is 17th century, US in 1790 for conducting election. Then there were Parish registers. The church has always played a pivotal role in birth and death of people. It was natural a register of the same be maintained and became a part of the duties of the clergy. Yet again, it is useful to note who were included and who were excluded. Those who belonged to the faith were included and those who were not of the same faith or did not practice it and (again importantly) "could not afford to pay the fee for ecclesiastical registration" were summarily excluded. It is almost obvious. The maintenance of any such register is bound to take effort, time and expenses. Who pays of it? Those who are included. Those who are not included due to reasons of being not a part of the average or mean definition (by faith, by birth, by occupation, by language or by nationaliy) did not pay or were not a part of such registers. It also means that conversely, by simply your ability of not being able to pay for maintenance of register (i.e. the very poor) you will not be a part of the register. It should not be too difficult to draw parallels to the current planned exercises in the country and see where is this all heading. Someone said emphatically, 'those who do not take lessons from history, are bound to face it again and again' or something like that.

Some mathematicians, scientists and statistics, wanted to find the total population of nations and world. Again the purpose was noble. They wanted to understand if it was increasing or decreasing or about the same. Malthus, the economist argued that the unchecked human population would always exceed the means of subsistence (food supply) and human improvement will depend on the limits of reproduction as opposed to means of trying to improve food supply. Darwin said the same in other words and implied that since means are limited only the fittest would survive. The fittest has come to mean different things - from being the mightiest, most powerful to most intelligent to most affluent. Thus the science of population or demography became the study of poverty. "The first census in UK, around 1851 included age, sex, occupation and birthplace and counted the blind and deaf". There was more details on death and diseases, and also pointed to appalling sanitary conditions in towns. Overcrowding of towns and impact on sewers or the lack of it and associated health risks are understandable. Thus statistics helped in undertaking some of the first planned sanitary reforms.

Florence Nightangle, the 'lady with the lamp' was another famous user of statistics. She was appalled at the state of record-keeping in military hospitals and war-time casualties. She put together some data around the Crimean Wars and others and presented in beautiful visualisations the number of deaths, overall mortality and reasons to show what all should know very well intuitively - that wars destroy lives. But, as with some of the modern statistics and data, measurement and visualisations may not lead to any action. Wars continued then as they do now. Another beautiful visualisation graph was that by Minard of Napoleon's troops and their ill-fated adventure to Russia in 1812. I have personally used that to teach/train on data visualisations to tell a story. Yet again, the purpose or the outcome was not just depiction of figures but the fact that the futility of wars, the impact on human lives was brilliantly portrayed to tell a story to those that cared to listen.

The modern comparisons of statistics to mini-skirts or bikinis are well known and they too point to the fact that what is the purpose that you are trying to achieve, what is the story you are trying to tell.

It is here that this massive exercise of NPR, NRC, CAA and the ilk fail me and many others. What is this trying to achieve? For who? Who said so? Who asked for it? Why? In whose name?
This exercise is not an announcement by new free or rental plan on Jio, it is not Amazon's sale week, it is not a erection of a statue, or change of a name of a road or city. This is massive, will involve more than a billion people, considerable amount of time, effort and money. Estimates put the expenditure anywhere around 60,000 Cr+; I do not want to comment to timelines and effectiveness - we all know what happened to Aadhaar and demonetisation. There are still people who believe both were great achievements but I am equally entitled to my views that both were bogus, unnecessary, ill-planned and ill-implemented things which did not achieve anything for the common man. There were electoral gains made in UP due to demonetisation and surely some people benefited, not the economy, not the country at large for sure. NPR, NRC and other names that will come up, will be garangutan state exercises which apart from the time, expenses and resources will divert attention of the government, private sector, NGOs and other statistics from things far more important and urgent.

Should the government, policy makers, private sector players, innovators, media people, activists be rather not working on poverty, education, health, social welfare and jobs? Or we also believe like some of our leaders, victrolas and media that 'all is well' and 'achhe din' are here and all these are imaginary problems that only the opposition parties, classes, liberals, nobel laureates, urban naxals, students and biased media can see. Inflation doesn't exist, if we don't eat onions. If we don't publish the right data and hush the messengers, then there is no job crisis (the worst in decades). Farmers do not commit suicides, some or the other party (depending who is in power) is making an issue of it for poll gains. No one killed people on mere suspicion of eating beef - they died because they did not drink cow urine. Gauri Lankesh and Kaluburgi were not killed by anyone, especially not by bigoted, extremists. The attacks on students at campuses and protestors on streets across the country was done by the Pakistan army or ISI, the Indian/Delhi police were merely protecting the law and order. Our education system is in excellent condition because my and your children are speaking English better than english kids (in British accent learnt via youtube), can count Peppa Pigs and are even taking German and French classes. Who goes and cares about children going to government schools. Our health system is world class today - there are cafe's and play areas that would resemble a mall. We don't know what the government hospitals and health centres are upto. Who cares.

There are real problems. There are dire situations that a large number of our fellows brothers and sisters face. The statistas - I repeat those who care about matters of the state, need to know how many and who.
We need statistics for that. There is census. There are records of child birth, at anganwadis, at our schools, at our colleges. We need to know how many are stunted? How many are malnourished?
We need to know how many of our children are dropping out of schools? How many are not learning? How many mothers die at childbirth? How many infants do not make it to age 5? How many are affected by curable diseases?
How many of our graduating students do not have skills to get them jobs? How many people of working age are not working? What are they doing? What do they need to do to get jobs?

More importantly, all of us need to do something about one or few of these questions, challenges and real issues. Only then will things improve. Data, science, mathematics and statistics has mostly been about that. Knowing and knowing with a purpose and then acting upon it. The purpose can only be development and well-being of all.

"Sarve bhavantu sukhinah...sarve santo niramaya". I repeat "Sarve". All.  

On my citizenship

Har ek baat pe kehte ho, ki tu kya hai? Tumhi kaho ye andaaz-e-guftagu kya hai !

The sense of belongingness doesn't come easily. Ask that to the millions of people who are homeless, seeking refugee in foreign lands, forced to leave their homes due to prolonged conflicts and living in makeshift-camps/places. It is a matter of who we are, where do we come from, what do we believe in and who we consider as our brothers and sisters. No one likes being questioned about these things. 

Belonging to a country, being a citizen, is not just a matter of having a passport, a birth certificate, a voter ID, a particular number (Aadhar or social security), a PAN card or any set of documents. It is a matter of belonging to a collective identity, a culture, a set of beliefs, a world-view and a sense of togetherness developed, formed and articulated over many centuries and for a country like India over a thousands of years. It is not only difficult and dangerous but almost impossible to define this identity in any one particular way simply because of millions of influences and practices that shape this over such a long span of time. For a diverse and plural society that is India, it can not be language, region, appearance, colour, occupation or religion. Pluralism was not just something that we humans (Indians in this case) created and fostered over hundreds of years, it was in the air, land, climate and geography of the region. There are sands of Rajasthan for every chinar leaf of Kashmir, there are rains of Meghalaya for the snowfall of Himachal and Uttarakhand, there are flood plains of Ganges and there are the dry white sands of Kutch, there are backwaters of Kerala and the lofty Himalayan mountains of Ladakh, there are forests of Chhattisgarh and Jharkhand and there are ancient-modern town-cities such as Kashi, Delhi and others. 

It was imperative that this plurality is protected, this diversity be encouraged and this spirit be understood. Hence, the founding fathers of the modern nation-state of republic of India tried to do just that by articulating the same unmistakably in the document was to govern the way we carried out our lives as countrymen - the Constitution of India. Again, as if to protect it against misuse, dilution and change (subtle and stark both) in the years that were to come, they made these principles, values integral to the very basic nature of the Constitution and as a part of the preamble. This constitution is then studied by children in schools, practiced by executive and legislative arms of the union and protected by the judiciary.

Any question or attack on the Constitution is then not just a questioning of a document, it is an attack on the very idea of this country, on each and every citizen and vice-versa. Let us try to put it the other way - any questioning of the ordinary Indian, or citizen especially about his/her existence, about his/her definition of country, is an attack on these very basic principles and values and a direct attack on the Constitution.

This is fundamentally problematic and hence, despite the claims of technical complexities, chronological anomalies, misleading narratives, this is very easily understood by most Indians and summarily rejected by a large number of them. The outbursts, the protests, the anger on streets or otherwise is a testament to that. To term this a misled, leaderless, opposition-conspired, liberal and intellectual futile expression is missing the point completely or simply being an ostrich.

My idea of this country is mine, it is not based on my religion, it is not based on the language I speak, it is not based on how I look, the colour of my skin or what I do. I am not obliged to tell it to any one if I do not choose to or shout at rooftops if I so feel like it as long as I do not I do it peacefully without breaking the law and order. I am not obliged to answer any of such questions. That answer was given for all of us, all of us Indians who could express and who could not express themselves, the majority and the minority, the rich and the poor - in the Constitution. That answer was that, "we the People of India.... will secure for all citizens (no qualifiers here!) 

JUSTICE, social, economic and political;

LIBERTY of thought, expression, belief, faith and worship;
EQUALITY of status and of opportunity;

And, in the years following the independence and adoption of the Constitution, the debate and discussion, the disagreements and agreements were on the modalities of achieving these ideals. The 'hows'. Whether, socialism was the way or capitalism and market, whether a vibrant and independent media was the better option or a one that was controlled by the state, whether empowered institutions such as the Election Commission, CBI, Lokpal others were important for functioning of state, in simpler terms left, right or centre? But, rarely has there been a question on 'who' and trying to assert that Justice, Liberty and Equality will be for some and not be for some basis a set of documents. This is not acceptable.

Firstly, I have a say. The constitution was adopted and enacted by me or my father or my grandfather or grandmother on my behalf along with millions together when we became a republic. I also decided that there are certain provisions and principles that won't be changed or played with in future simply because people in executive and legislation think so.

Second, the idea of my citizenship and my link to this country can't be questioned. More so on the basis of my belief, my faith, my thoughts and my expression. I would not profess to any one or two or three sets of ideas or beliefs or any and I can't be forced. I am free and this right is guaranteed to me by me or my forefathers.

Thirdly, whether I have a set of documents or not, whether I have the capacity to even understand these documents or not, whether I have used these documents to vote, elect governments, pay taxes, travel abroad or not, I am an Indian and I do not need to prove that.

Finally, what's the need? What are we trying to do here? Why? Even if it assures me (no idea how?) of more economic prosperity, more social acceptability or political voice, I reject it as nothing can come at the cost of my existence. Stop asking me and attacking me for who I am. I reject this language, tone and this manner of conversation.