Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Putting the Khan Drama to rest..
Oh, I am so tempted to register my thoughts on the play down drama by the hero who was stung at the Big Apple and is now on a reconciliatory mode, lest the people who made him what he is stamp him as a major stuck up not belonging to their lot. But I am loathe to discuss it now. I am still not sure if it was the man, the media or the masses that stirred the issue to such ridiculous levels, but I am going to pass it, because it simply isn’t worth dwelling upon at such length.
Remembering India's Bhagya Vidaatha
After the panic and paranoia posts, it’s time for some patriotism.
Considering we are four days past the Indian Independence day, I might be a bit behind date to post something related to national sentiments, but since I am not going to get hoarse with jingoistic cries that are common flavours of the season, I believe it isn’t misplaced or irrelevant to let a few thoughts flow.
It is a thought that emerged as I listened to our national anthem on TV on the 15th of August that just went by. It wasn’t the first time I was hearing it, it wasn’t even the first time I was moved by it, but it was the first time that a thought occurred - How many of us really understand our national anthem? How many truly get emotional upon hearing it? How many really know its history and background?
I remember my school days where at the end of our morning assembly the national anthem was played over an aging, croaking speaker and we stood in attention only because the teacher behind us was keeping a watchful eye on us. The anthem barely meant anything to us. We sang along, the lyrics mostly wrong and mispronounced, and waited for the Jai hey, so that we could scoot out of the heat to our classes. The tune, that now brings a rapt expression on my face every time I hear it, sounded so harsh in those days owing to the faulty record. The school never thought of replacing it and it played on, day after day, inspiring nothing in us except boredom and a few girlish giggles when the voices stretched and strayed. It made us wonder why on earth we were put through the ordeal of listening to it everyday. But we asked no one and no one ever explained why that strain of music was so important to us.
I don’t remember when the national anthem permeated my soul and became an exclusive rendering of national sentiment that made my eyes moist every time I heard it. Whether played as a vocal rendition or an instrumental melody, it now makes me close my eyes and lend myself to its soothing strains and I experience 52 seconds of absolute peace. It is the most exquisite piece of music that I have ever heard.
Although I had read and known the meaning of those lines sometime long after the school assembly days, last week as I heard it again on TV, I felt the urge to know our anthem all over again. I felt I owed it to my country, to my love of it despite its deficiencies and to the genius of the poet who gave us this gem of a lyric.
Thanks to the internet, the same day I read about its history, the numerous controversies surrounding it, the allegation that it was written in praise of the British King and then the poet’s own disclosure that it was actually a pronouncement of victory to India’s God of Destiny.
For those still suffering from colonial hang over it is probably a matter of contention. But it doesn’t bother me what it could have meant at that point of time - a eulogy to a monarch or an invocation to God for our motherland. I believe that in today’s context, if taken to heart, it can arouse a deep, collective feeling for a nation that is desperate for its citizens’ genuine love, dedication and prayers.
For the benefit of those who don’t have the patience or time to google it up, here is what our national anthem means. Remember it the next time you hear it and feel the tug at your heart strings. If it stirs up a sentiment, India can smile, for there is still hope. If it doesn't, God save our mother land.
O! Dispenser of India's destiny, thou art the ruler of the minds of all people
Thy name rouses the hearts of Punjab, Sindh, Gujarat, the Maratha country,in the Dravida, Utkala and Bengal;
It echoes in the hills of the Vindhyas and Himalayas,it mingles in the rhapsodies of the pure waters of Yamuna and Ganga
They chant only thy name.
They seek only thy auspicious blessings.They sing only the glory of thy victory.
The salvation of all people waits in thy hands,
O! Dispenser of India's destiny, thou art the ruler of the minds of all people
Victory to thee, Victory to thee, Victory to thee,Victory, Victory, Victory, Victory to theeee!
Considering we are four days past the Indian Independence day, I might be a bit behind date to post something related to national sentiments, but since I am not going to get hoarse with jingoistic cries that are common flavours of the season, I believe it isn’t misplaced or irrelevant to let a few thoughts flow.
It is a thought that emerged as I listened to our national anthem on TV on the 15th of August that just went by. It wasn’t the first time I was hearing it, it wasn’t even the first time I was moved by it, but it was the first time that a thought occurred - How many of us really understand our national anthem? How many truly get emotional upon hearing it? How many really know its history and background?
I remember my school days where at the end of our morning assembly the national anthem was played over an aging, croaking speaker and we stood in attention only because the teacher behind us was keeping a watchful eye on us. The anthem barely meant anything to us. We sang along, the lyrics mostly wrong and mispronounced, and waited for the Jai hey, so that we could scoot out of the heat to our classes. The tune, that now brings a rapt expression on my face every time I hear it, sounded so harsh in those days owing to the faulty record. The school never thought of replacing it and it played on, day after day, inspiring nothing in us except boredom and a few girlish giggles when the voices stretched and strayed. It made us wonder why on earth we were put through the ordeal of listening to it everyday. But we asked no one and no one ever explained why that strain of music was so important to us.
I don’t remember when the national anthem permeated my soul and became an exclusive rendering of national sentiment that made my eyes moist every time I heard it. Whether played as a vocal rendition or an instrumental melody, it now makes me close my eyes and lend myself to its soothing strains and I experience 52 seconds of absolute peace. It is the most exquisite piece of music that I have ever heard.
Although I had read and known the meaning of those lines sometime long after the school assembly days, last week as I heard it again on TV, I felt the urge to know our anthem all over again. I felt I owed it to my country, to my love of it despite its deficiencies and to the genius of the poet who gave us this gem of a lyric.
Thanks to the internet, the same day I read about its history, the numerous controversies surrounding it, the allegation that it was written in praise of the British King and then the poet’s own disclosure that it was actually a pronouncement of victory to India’s God of Destiny.
For those still suffering from colonial hang over it is probably a matter of contention. But it doesn’t bother me what it could have meant at that point of time - a eulogy to a monarch or an invocation to God for our motherland. I believe that in today’s context, if taken to heart, it can arouse a deep, collective feeling for a nation that is desperate for its citizens’ genuine love, dedication and prayers.
For the benefit of those who don’t have the patience or time to google it up, here is what our national anthem means. Remember it the next time you hear it and feel the tug at your heart strings. If it stirs up a sentiment, India can smile, for there is still hope. If it doesn't, God save our mother land.
O! Dispenser of India's destiny, thou art the ruler of the minds of all people
Thy name rouses the hearts of Punjab, Sindh, Gujarat, the Maratha country,in the Dravida, Utkala and Bengal;
It echoes in the hills of the Vindhyas and Himalayas,it mingles in the rhapsodies of the pure waters of Yamuna and Ganga
They chant only thy name.
They seek only thy auspicious blessings.They sing only the glory of thy victory.
The salvation of all people waits in thy hands,
O! Dispenser of India's destiny, thou art the ruler of the minds of all people
Victory to thee, Victory to thee, Victory to thee,Victory, Victory, Victory, Victory to theeee!
Monday, August 17, 2009
Welcome to the real world, Mr. Khan
At 62, India is an exceptionally robust nation comprising of (un)enviably vigorous citizens who have made blowing their fuse at the slightest tripping of sentiments a huge virtue. Come, this independence day, lets thump our chest and say with pride that we are an immensely responsive (not responsible, dummies) lot! We are so ready to burn and break, huff and heave and take matters to a point that gives our starved media rollicking times with simmering sentiments and boiling over emotions. You cant blame the channel wallahs though; after all they need to run the show 24x7 and if people are giving them fodder on a platter, they are only too pleased to lap it up, discussing, dissecting and in the end whooshing over to something else when it has been sufficiently done to death.
Even as the H1N1 show is running successfully, we have been subjected to detailed reportage of how a popular Khan (from millions of other Khans in the world) was ‘humiliated’, ‘angered’ and ‘discriminated’ insensibly by a nation that despite considering itself above everyone else on this planet, is today terribly paranoid.
Yes, it is scary to be held and questioned in a foreign country for no apparent reason and it can freeze your very life in its tracks with fear, but times are such. If you are on the wrong side of luck, anything can happen to you once you stray out of home. It is frightening and distressing; there are no two ways about it. But to cry foul and make an over the top reaction because it happened to a Khan who considers himself above the rest of the Khans in the world – it smacks of some egocentricity. And worse, the entire Indian janatha is ballistic because according to them, it shouldn’t have happened to this Khan. He is an icon, after all.
This puts me off. This high end profiling of people based on their public, larger than life stature. This nauseating culture of putting people on the pedestal, not just by their dim-witted admirers, but also by centres of power and intelligence.
Actually, it was the way the whole incident was portrayed and played out, as something that stripped the icon of his self respect, got him embarrassed and left him humiliated, that irritated me. Come on, he is not the first person on this earth to have gone through such experience and emotions. It could be just that he hasn’t had a taste of it in a long long time, not after the DDLJ days. Not after adulation and idolization became his staple. Not after anything he spoke made it to the headlines. It must have stung him sore because he had so long been insulated from the inconsistencies of the new, lopsided world. Welcome to the real world, Mr. Khan - the grueling world of ordinary people. For once you will know what it means to be unknown and anonymous.
Will anyone dispute if I said that for the lay man, in which ever part of the world, humiliation and persecution is an everyday reality and he endures it at different levels, in different forms without a whimper? He is destined to be crushed and killed by injustices because he is no icon with a wax statue to his name. He can’t afford to be embarrassed, because his self respect is subordinate to those around him. He can’t go to the media and create a ruckus about his woes because he simply isn’t saleable. And lastly, the ordinary man, ever intimidated by social, political and economic factors, simply doesn’t have it in him to take the power horses on. So he merely surrenders, puts his head down and carries on with his small, insignificant existence.
I am tempted to relate an incident that took place at an airport in India when my husband and I were on vacation. But that would mean a longer posting and so I pass it on. But the incident was in no way less gross or humiliating than what Mr. Khan went through at Newark airport, although the issue in question was slightly different. The writing is clear for common citizens like us – if you are pulled up for any reason, no matter how unjustified, just apologize, cooperate and if need be, eulogize the system that has such honorable men at the helm. We fully understand your sense of duty and respect your position, sir, you mumble humbly. A word of protest or a gesture of impatience and you are done. It’s the way the world works, dearies. Whether at home or abroad.
You stand no chance where the power of your persecutor is ultimate and if it has to do with sovereign power, the less said the better.
The issue we recently saw was a clash between the personal pride of a man who considers himself slightly above the ordinary and the collective paranoia of a country that despite its tall claims and bravado still knows that given the slightest chink, any wily, wicked rodent can crawl into its innards and have a party.
It’s fear and ego on one side and power and paranoia on the other. It is this old, lethal combination that is driving our world and there is very little one can do to change it. Those who can afford it, can raise a din; those who can’t, can just continue living the way life pans out for them. Without a demur.
It’s not about being meek, it’s about being realistic in an irregular matrix that the world is.
Even as the H1N1 show is running successfully, we have been subjected to detailed reportage of how a popular Khan (from millions of other Khans in the world) was ‘humiliated’, ‘angered’ and ‘discriminated’ insensibly by a nation that despite considering itself above everyone else on this planet, is today terribly paranoid.
Yes, it is scary to be held and questioned in a foreign country for no apparent reason and it can freeze your very life in its tracks with fear, but times are such. If you are on the wrong side of luck, anything can happen to you once you stray out of home. It is frightening and distressing; there are no two ways about it. But to cry foul and make an over the top reaction because it happened to a Khan who considers himself above the rest of the Khans in the world – it smacks of some egocentricity. And worse, the entire Indian janatha is ballistic because according to them, it shouldn’t have happened to this Khan. He is an icon, after all.
This puts me off. This high end profiling of people based on their public, larger than life stature. This nauseating culture of putting people on the pedestal, not just by their dim-witted admirers, but also by centres of power and intelligence.
Actually, it was the way the whole incident was portrayed and played out, as something that stripped the icon of his self respect, got him embarrassed and left him humiliated, that irritated me. Come on, he is not the first person on this earth to have gone through such experience and emotions. It could be just that he hasn’t had a taste of it in a long long time, not after the DDLJ days. Not after adulation and idolization became his staple. Not after anything he spoke made it to the headlines. It must have stung him sore because he had so long been insulated from the inconsistencies of the new, lopsided world. Welcome to the real world, Mr. Khan - the grueling world of ordinary people. For once you will know what it means to be unknown and anonymous.
Will anyone dispute if I said that for the lay man, in which ever part of the world, humiliation and persecution is an everyday reality and he endures it at different levels, in different forms without a whimper? He is destined to be crushed and killed by injustices because he is no icon with a wax statue to his name. He can’t afford to be embarrassed, because his self respect is subordinate to those around him. He can’t go to the media and create a ruckus about his woes because he simply isn’t saleable. And lastly, the ordinary man, ever intimidated by social, political and economic factors, simply doesn’t have it in him to take the power horses on. So he merely surrenders, puts his head down and carries on with his small, insignificant existence.
I am tempted to relate an incident that took place at an airport in India when my husband and I were on vacation. But that would mean a longer posting and so I pass it on. But the incident was in no way less gross or humiliating than what Mr. Khan went through at Newark airport, although the issue in question was slightly different. The writing is clear for common citizens like us – if you are pulled up for any reason, no matter how unjustified, just apologize, cooperate and if need be, eulogize the system that has such honorable men at the helm. We fully understand your sense of duty and respect your position, sir, you mumble humbly. A word of protest or a gesture of impatience and you are done. It’s the way the world works, dearies. Whether at home or abroad.
You stand no chance where the power of your persecutor is ultimate and if it has to do with sovereign power, the less said the better.
The issue we recently saw was a clash between the personal pride of a man who considers himself slightly above the ordinary and the collective paranoia of a country that despite its tall claims and bravado still knows that given the slightest chink, any wily, wicked rodent can crawl into its innards and have a party.
It’s fear and ego on one side and power and paranoia on the other. It is this old, lethal combination that is driving our world and there is very little one can do to change it. Those who can afford it, can raise a din; those who can’t, can just continue living the way life pans out for them. Without a demur.
It’s not about being meek, it’s about being realistic in an irregular matrix that the world is.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
One flu over the human race
It has been a week of panic, paranoia and patriotism taken in different doses, evoking responses in varying degrees and causing some unusual flutter in my little thought shop. I can feel my head reeling with random thoughts, one trampling the other for prominence, crying for space on the thought shop rack (something akin to my book seeking shelf space in major book stores) and challenging my ability to think cohesively and comprehensively. In such high strung circumstances, it is important to be aware and cautious of common intellectual pitfalls, like getting carried away and falling to the temptation of flooding my shop with indiscriminate scribbling. But it is so impossible not to react to things and give vent in order to retain the crumbs of sanity left in the wake of my slugfest with my first book. So, letting forbearance take a back seat, I let myself loose in a two part posting on a few topical things..
The world is evidently in a grip of paranoia, in the levels and kinds that would soon leave a section of it either paralyzed or effectively dehumanized (depending upon one’s destiny). First it was the recession (oh, not this word again!) which kept us all chewing our finger nails. News about near, far, known, unknown people getting pink slips kept us thinking through the night if we would fall to the axe in the name of redundancy or restructuring, although either would have sent us home packing with equal apathy from the bosses and collective pity from the masses. Now there seems to be some let up in the situation (ahoy, we are seeing green shoots, they say) and those of us who have managed to scrape through the period unscathed are plain lucky. Thank God for big mercies.
When the scare of the down turn began to abate, there descended a pandemic, which now is creating absolute panic among populations. I was relatively unconcerned till a few weeks ago, counting it as a distant thing happening in far away places like Mexico and America, and I read about it smugly, attributing it to the vile ways of the world and nature’s newest way of exacting revenge on an erring humanity, but now it seems like the demon is entering our territory and beginning to give us the chills. Literally.
I sneezed a few times yesterday while at the hyper market and for a split second I worried if I had caught ‘it’, for the sneeze was followed by a sudden rasping sense in my throat. I cleared my throat instinctively and gave off a deliberate cough as you would always do when you get a scratchy gullet. I noticed my fellow shopper, standing next to me, give a wry smile as I reached for the tissue in my hang bag and I knew what was on her mind – I probably had ‘it’!
I had sneezed into my palms and if I had ‘it’, I was presently going to give it a free run with my subsequent contacts with things in the store. In a flash the lady vanished from sight and I suddenly felt as though I had contracted the plague and not a flu. Worse and ridiculous still, I felt that I had lost my freedom to sneeze in public places. I don’t deny it was as irrational a thought as it can be, lacking sense, but it came to me, making me hopelessly vulnerable to scrutiny. Believe me or not, an ordinary sneeze or a cough can now get you the suspicious glares if you don’t do it on the sly, behind the hand kerchief, in suppressed muffles. Forgive me for the crass comparison, but it has become as abject an act, if as not as indecent, as a loud public burp or you know what…
Caution, unarguably, is the better part of valour, but what if caution is taken over by senseless fright and paranoia? You begin follow the news to count the fatalities in India, you scour the Internet to know the latest situation in neighbouring Oman (where speculation and rumour is now as rife as dates in summer), you think twice before going to the cinema or the mall, you seriously consider stocking surgical masks (because it will not be until the vacationing crowd returns that the true impact of ‘it’ will be known in these parts, so better stay stocked than to be stuck on emergency), and as I have done now, conclusively drop any travelling plans for some time. Why risk it, after all?
Unmistakably, people en masse are seized with genuine fear and those who are seemingly unruffled, are at least a little nervous. Because, you can’t put your business of life on hold on account of a flu, can you? Nor can you afford to be complacent about it and put yourself in harm’s remotest way. So what do you do? No one’s prepared to take a call.
I am not sure if we are over reacting to a crisis which in my view is only one among a slew of punitive handouts from the Supreme Authority whose rules we flout so brazenly, unmindful of consequences. It makes me think it is a wake up call for us to mend our ways and come round and make a sincere effort to live by the laws of nature and God. Justice, in its ultimate, desperate effort to reinforce its presence, sometimes takes swathes of life in its fold. The H1N1 and other mass disasters are only a symptom to this; the real malady has yet to strike a severely stuck up human race. And it seems frighteningly imminent. When it does, the odds are that there will be no business of life left for us to mind.
The world is evidently in a grip of paranoia, in the levels and kinds that would soon leave a section of it either paralyzed or effectively dehumanized (depending upon one’s destiny). First it was the recession (oh, not this word again!) which kept us all chewing our finger nails. News about near, far, known, unknown people getting pink slips kept us thinking through the night if we would fall to the axe in the name of redundancy or restructuring, although either would have sent us home packing with equal apathy from the bosses and collective pity from the masses. Now there seems to be some let up in the situation (ahoy, we are seeing green shoots, they say) and those of us who have managed to scrape through the period unscathed are plain lucky. Thank God for big mercies.
When the scare of the down turn began to abate, there descended a pandemic, which now is creating absolute panic among populations. I was relatively unconcerned till a few weeks ago, counting it as a distant thing happening in far away places like Mexico and America, and I read about it smugly, attributing it to the vile ways of the world and nature’s newest way of exacting revenge on an erring humanity, but now it seems like the demon is entering our territory and beginning to give us the chills. Literally.
I sneezed a few times yesterday while at the hyper market and for a split second I worried if I had caught ‘it’, for the sneeze was followed by a sudden rasping sense in my throat. I cleared my throat instinctively and gave off a deliberate cough as you would always do when you get a scratchy gullet. I noticed my fellow shopper, standing next to me, give a wry smile as I reached for the tissue in my hang bag and I knew what was on her mind – I probably had ‘it’!
I had sneezed into my palms and if I had ‘it’, I was presently going to give it a free run with my subsequent contacts with things in the store. In a flash the lady vanished from sight and I suddenly felt as though I had contracted the plague and not a flu. Worse and ridiculous still, I felt that I had lost my freedom to sneeze in public places. I don’t deny it was as irrational a thought as it can be, lacking sense, but it came to me, making me hopelessly vulnerable to scrutiny. Believe me or not, an ordinary sneeze or a cough can now get you the suspicious glares if you don’t do it on the sly, behind the hand kerchief, in suppressed muffles. Forgive me for the crass comparison, but it has become as abject an act, if as not as indecent, as a loud public burp or you know what…
Caution, unarguably, is the better part of valour, but what if caution is taken over by senseless fright and paranoia? You begin follow the news to count the fatalities in India, you scour the Internet to know the latest situation in neighbouring Oman (where speculation and rumour is now as rife as dates in summer), you think twice before going to the cinema or the mall, you seriously consider stocking surgical masks (because it will not be until the vacationing crowd returns that the true impact of ‘it’ will be known in these parts, so better stay stocked than to be stuck on emergency), and as I have done now, conclusively drop any travelling plans for some time. Why risk it, after all?
Unmistakably, people en masse are seized with genuine fear and those who are seemingly unruffled, are at least a little nervous. Because, you can’t put your business of life on hold on account of a flu, can you? Nor can you afford to be complacent about it and put yourself in harm’s remotest way. So what do you do? No one’s prepared to take a call.
I am not sure if we are over reacting to a crisis which in my view is only one among a slew of punitive handouts from the Supreme Authority whose rules we flout so brazenly, unmindful of consequences. It makes me think it is a wake up call for us to mend our ways and come round and make a sincere effort to live by the laws of nature and God. Justice, in its ultimate, desperate effort to reinforce its presence, sometimes takes swathes of life in its fold. The H1N1 and other mass disasters are only a symptom to this; the real malady has yet to strike a severely stuck up human race. And it seems frighteningly imminent. When it does, the odds are that there will be no business of life left for us to mind.
Think about it.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
My first fan mail..
Wanted to share a mail I received from my ten year old pupil in Muscat who I tutor online. I don’t want to take away from the charm of this lovely epistle by making any overture or explanation. Suffice it to say that to me it is a coveted trophy, the kind that no adult world can bestow. Only a guileless, innocent and generous heart of a child can be capable of expresssing such uninhibited sentiment.
I accept it whole heartedly.
Dear aunty,
Aunty I saw your interview. It was superb than i thought. I am proud to have a teacher like you.
When i saw your interview i discovered what actually was in your mind.I didn't think you are a great writter and a observer who observes other's life and hardships at heart.I was mind blowed by your angle of view to the lives and hardships of people who come from their native places and settle in the gulf or middle east. When I heard about your first novel tears prickled at the back of my eyes. Aunty i wish to tell you that i would like to have your first novel because i was
impressed by it's outline. Aunty your interview was very touching and you did extremely good.I really admire you aunty...................................
Your sincerely,
Aswin.
I accept it whole heartedly.
Dear aunty,
Aunty I saw your interview. It was superb than i thought. I am proud to have a teacher like you.
When i saw your interview i discovered what actually was in your mind.I didn't think you are a great writter and a observer who observes other's life and hardships at heart.I was mind blowed by your angle of view to the lives and hardships of people who come from their native places and settle in the gulf or middle east. When I heard about your first novel tears prickled at the back of my eyes. Aunty i wish to tell you that i would like to have your first novel because i was
impressed by it's outline. Aunty your interview was very touching and you did extremely good.I really admire you aunty...................................
Your sincerely,
Aswin.
(Reproduced with all the naive errors in syntax)
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