Truth and the pandemic

When was the last time there was a massive public uproar about our leaders concealing truth, or flip-flopping on facts presented in court, or lying in Parliament? Assuming falsehoods were based on faulty information, when was the last time our leaders apologised for misleading us?

Far from seeing it as a ‘sin’, as a symptom of moral degradation with life-and-death consequences for us, we have grown inured to falsehood. I have lost count of the number of times I have heard admiration in the voices of fellow citizens when they comment upon politicians’ penchant for endlessly, inventively, lying to the nation. How then, in the middle of a terrifying pandemic, do we suddenly expect honesty?

The building of public character takes generations. It requires leaders who uphold the principle of honesty, who urge us to re-examine our intimate and perceived reality. 

Here is one such nugget of reality: India spends only 1.28% of its GDP on health. Here is another: over 55 million Indians were pushed below the poverty line in 2011-12 because of out-of-pocket health expenses. And another: in 2014-15, the government led by Prime Minister Modi slashed an already pitiful health budget by 20%. And this: despite warnings from the World Health Organization, despite COVID-19 deaths being reported in China and Italy, India continued to export protective medical equipment.

There are many more truths to confront...

Read the whole column here: 

https://www.thehindu.com/opinion/op-ed/the-hunt-for-a-cure-begins-with-telling-the-truth/article31211629.ece

Not so rare

We like to believe that justice is served when a murderer goes to the gallows. Death offers closure. It also shields us from the awful truth that a society where such crimes happen with alarming regularity is broken, and requires a drastic overall. We experienced it as broken in 2012, when details of the Nirbhaya case emerged. The masses roared on the streets, demanding that something get fixed. The accused were arrested, and seven years later, have been executed.

Someone mentioned videos. I didn’t want to look. I didn’t want any more detail about those men. Already, I find it hard to forget that they were desperate to stay alive, filing appeal after appeal. I confess, I don’t know what they deserved. Fourteen, twenty-five or fifty years does not seem to balance the scales of justice. But it is also true that I feel neither relief nor cheer. I feel weary, and much, much more afraid than I was in 2012.

The cases I’ve mentioned above are a tiny selection from English press reports. Some of those ‘rarest of rare’ crimes were undertaken after the accused in the Nirbhaya case were arrested, and people were baying for blood. A death sentence was almost a forgone conclusion. Yet, the rarest of rare crimes recurred. Individually, and in gangs, men emulated the tortures they heard of during media coverage of the Nirbhaya case. One thing different was though: they made sure to kill the victims.

Read the whole piece in Outlook magazine:

https://www.outlookindia.com/magazine/story/india-news-opinion-of-horrific-rapes-and-a-litany-of-justice-miscarried-why-i-am-really-scared-more-than-before/303012

कश्मकश : एक नौजवान की लिखी बहुत पुरानी नज़्म

मेरे नाना साहब की लिखी एक बहुत पुरानी नज़्म. उस ज़माने में वो लखनऊ यूनिवर्सिटी में पढ़ रहे थे. उम्र क़रीब 22 साल रही होगी (नज़्म पे तारीख़ 1938 लिखी है). ये तो नहीं मालूम कि नज़्म में किस कश्मकश का ज़िक्र है लेकिन कुछ अंदाज़ा इस बात से लगाया जा सकता है कि 1941 तक वो ऑल इंडिया स्टूडेंट्स फेडरेशन के जनरल सेक्रेटरी रह चुके थे और जंग-ए-आज़ादी में पूरी तरह शामिल होकर जेल चले गए.

बाक़ी, एक नौजवान का दिल तो था ही, उसकी कश्मकश अलग रही होगी... पढ़िए ज़रूर.


कश्मकश

इस गुंचा-ए-ख़ुशरंग को तोड़ूँ के ना तोड़ूँ?
गुलचीं की निगाहों का शरर रोक रहा है

साग़र के लब-ए-सुर्ख़ को चूमूँ के ना चूमूँ?
मैख़ाने का अंदाज़-ए-नज़र रोक रहा है

गोदी में मह-ओ-साल की मचलूँ के ना मचलूँ?
आते हुए आलाम का डर रोक रहा है

है मौसम-ए-गुल जोश पे चहकूँ  के ना चहकूँ?
पैहम कफ़स-ए-तंग का दर रोक रहा है

पयमाना-ए-सरजोश हूँ छलकूँ के ना छलकूँ?
हर मंज़र-ए-बेकैफ़-ओ-असर रोक रहा है

मंज़िल की तरफ़ बाग को मोड़ूँ के ना मोड़ूँ?
कोई मिरी हर राहगुज़र रोक रहा है

फ़ितरत के सिरा परदों को उलटूँ के ना उलटूँ?
क़ानून-ए-ख़ुम-ए-तेग़-ओ-तबर रोक रहा है

फ़रसूदा निज़ामों को बदल दूँ के ना बदलूँ?
तहज़ीब का हिलता हुआ सर रोक रहा है

-

रुकने का भी इमकान है चलने का भी इमकान
जलने का भी इमकान है फलने का भी इमकान
थमने का भी इमकान उबलने का भी इमकान
गिरने का भी इमकान संभलने का भी इमकान
ख़तरे हैं अगर लाख तो इमकान हज़ारों
बढ़ने के भी हटने के भी सामान हज़ारों
ये कश्मकश ए ज़ीस्त, ये आवेज़िश-ए-अफ़कार
सरमाया-ए-सरमस्ती-ए-याराना तराहदार
ग़ैरों को मवाफ़िक़ नहीं अपनों को सज़ावार
अपनों को सज़ावार के वीराने हों गुलज़ार
गुलज़ार जो आज़ार-ए-मह-ओ-साल भुला दे
वो तल्ख़ी-ए-माज़ी ये ग़म-ए-हाल भुला दे

- अली जवाद ज़ैदी
लखनऊ (सन 1938)
किताब का नाम: सिलसिला


कुछ शब्दों के मायने

गुंचा = फूल या कली
गुलचीं  = माली
शरर  = चिंगारी
मह-ओ-साल = महीने और साल
आलाम = मुसीबतें या मुश्किलें
पैहम = लगातार
कफ़स ए तंग = सिकुड़ा हुआ पिंजड़ा/ क़ैदख़ाना
मंज़र-ए-बेकैफ़-ओ-असर = बिना असर या दुःखी नज़ारा
क़ानून-ए-ख़ुम-ए-तेग़-ओ-तबर = तलवार और कुल्हाड़ी का उठता/बढ़ता हुआ क़ानून
फ़रसूदा = पुराना
इमकान = सम्भावनाएँ
आवेज़िश-ए-अफ़कार =  चिंतन/फ़िक्र की लड़ाई
तराहदार =  ख़ूबसूरत / स्टाइलिश
मवाफ़िक़ = जो हामी भर दे या फिर हामी भरना / to conform
सज़ावार = सज़ा के लायक़
आज़ार = तकलीफें, दर्द
तल्ख़ी-ए-माज़ी = बीते दिनों की कड़वाहट
ग़म-ए-हाल = अभी का ग़म

Being profiled

In other news, Facebook has finally successfully figured me out. It has my profile down pat:interested in literature (writing), films, culture broadly. It shows me ads for masterclasses in screenwriting by Mira Nair and Judd Apatow. One even by Margaret Atwood and if I was who I was fifteen years ago, I may even have jumped at that offer.

Another time, FB showed me some ad related to writing - merchandise, perhaps? It does not yet show me books per se, because the books' business is small and publishers (and writers themselves) rarely advertise their wares.

Once in a while, it will show me some quaint piece of furniture, or mulmul and silk sarees. If I wasn't so determined not to shop for objects that I have not physically gone looking for, not touched and seen at close quarters, it would have been my undoing.

Still. Congratulations, Facebook. You nailed who I am. Give my love to all the AI programs that track my every move.

Amazon, on the other hand, is wringing its hands at my habits. I do not usually purchase anything except books there but it keeps trying to offer me gadgets, phones, home accessories. As if to say: Come on! Oh, come on!

I kind of prefer that approach, to be honest. It sees and it resists your own idea of who you are.

Corona virus wali shakl

Somebody on Twitter called me a 'corona virus ki shakal ki...' (other words followed) It was obviously meant as an insult. Made me thoughtful. Virus ki shakal means the face of the virus. Since viruses don't have bodies that can easily be anthropomorphized - where's the 'face'? - one may assume that the whole of it is a shakal. 

I've seen images accompanying news articles and was struck by the shape and colouring of Corona: Are those its own colours? Or is that the stain left by whatever chemicals scientists are using to define/isolate a particular strain? Does only one part of the body (can one say 'of the creature'?) take the dye? Why?

To look at it, as one looks at anything else on the planet, it is not unattractive. The word 'striking' comes to mind. So, as far as shakal-surat is concerned, it is not entirely uncomplimentary to be compared to the Corona.

There is also the question of power - its capacity to incapacitate, to cause chaos, to cause fatal damage. Again, from a shakal perspective, this is not entirely uncomplimentary. And therefore, I am not feeling the insult after all.

And because I ran a search for images, here are some links I found (below). This article has several images and one very striking illustration by the biologist David Goodsell, who creates 'molecular landscapes'. Whether you believe in God, or Nature, or the Universe, or Earth, you cannot but behold, ruminate, and marvel.

https://www.floridatoday.com/picture-gallery/news/2020/03/12/coronavirus-photos-what-virus-look-like/5030958002/

Reading in

Less going out of the house (which I do reluctantly at the best of times) means more reading. Over the last few weeks, between deadlines, at airports, and through sleepless nights, I've read a fair bit.

Ali Khan Mahmudabad's 'Poetry of Belonging' was special, not just because it was about poetry and belonging, but also because it includes references to my dear departed grandfather's work (which I have yet to read!). It also makes me wonder at how much we don't know. Like about the Urdu poets working in what is now Haryana. How was the poetry of a 'Faridabadi' poet different from that of a Dehlavi? What was the sub-regional flavour like? Don't we wish we knew?

'Blue is Like Blue', a selection of stories written by Vinod Kumar Shukla and translated by Sara Rai and Arvind Krishna Mehrotra. None of these names need any introduction to readers familiar with the Indian literary landscape. All I can say is, buy and read, all ye who haven't, and especially all ye who would write.

I read Asiya Zahoor's 'Serpents Under My Veil', a book of poems that bring together many difficult themes - gender, literary engagement, Kashmir, violence, love.

I also read and enjoyed Saif Mahmood's 'Beloved Delhi', another book based on place and Urdu poetry. It offers the background and context to the writing of some of the most brilliant poetry written by Delhi's most famous poets, and the translations made it easier to understand and enjoy the original works.

Please buy all these books asap. You know you want to. I am helpfully attaching purchase links: 

https://www.amazon.in/Poetry-Belonging-Muslim-Imaginings-1850-1950/dp/0190121017

https://www.amazon.in/Serpents-under-Veil-Asiya-Zahoor/dp/9383125268

https://www.amazon.in/Blue-Like-Stories-V-K-Shukla/dp/9353029325

https://www.amazon.in/Beloved-Delhi-Mughal-Greatest-Poets/dp/9388070542/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=beloved+delhi&qid=1584219357&s=books&sr=1-1

I've also just finished a beautiful book called 'Calligraphies of Love' by Hasan Massoudy. It is, as the title suggests, a book combining text and art. Try getting the print edition rather than the kindle one. It is lovely. Something to hold with affection and a wonderful gift for all your beloveds. 

I'm taking the liberty of sharing a couple of snapshots from between its covers. The Gandhi page, of course. Because, you know... 

https://www.amazon.in/s?k=calligraphies+of+love&i=digital-text&crid=17K9NE2C9SQMF&sprefix=calligra%2Cdigital-text%2C309&ref=nb_sb_noss_2

The price of not being a real leader is counted in (other people's) deaths

He could have said that peaceful protest is an inalienable democratic right.

If he had said it before, or even after winning the state assembly, it may have given pause to millions of people who were being told repeatedly that protestors deserve to be attacked simply for opposing the policies of the central government. After all, Mr Kejriwal himself has done everything in his power to topple those elected to Parliament before.

When he saw footage of CCTV cameras being smashed to prevent the recording of evidence while students were attacked in libraries, he could have said that his government would, anyhow, make sure the guilty were punished. He could say that his government would ensure that mosques will be re-built, and that inter-faith meetings be held every single day until the community can find its way back to harmony. He could say, even now, that we must resist ghettoization, for it can only lead to a greater gulf between communities. He could say that ghettoization is not just the outcome but the purpose of such violence, that it is venom in the body of our republic.

He could say to doctors: treat riot victims gently, and do post mortems honestly. He could say to teachers: counsel children so that they may not be drawn to future acts of violence, and may learn not to discriminate themselves. He could say to members of Residents’ Welfare Associations: for India’s sake, stop discriminating. He could even ask that meetings be in every colony to discuss the imperative of citizenship, and understand why so many Indians are feeling vulnerable.

There is a long list of things that need saying, urgently, but beyond taciturn appeals for peace – and those worded in miserly fashion – nothing has been said or done that demonstrates true leadership. The crisis in Delhi, and all over India, is that our leaders appear to think that their role is limited to winning elections. When they speak, they weigh their words against the weight of public opinion. They act as if that they were a mirror for potential voters, however ill-informed, self-serving, narrow-minded the latter be.

The notion that a leader is someone who 'leads', in thought and in deed, seems to have collapsed...

To read the whole thing, please go here: 

https://www.thehindu.com/opinion/op-ed/what-kejriwal-should-have-done/article30983119.ece

Samman nahin, samaanta

Women's day, so I'm linking to the first documentary I made in 2015. It's online and free to watch now. I'll also say a bit about struggling against censorship of an indirect kind, because I feel like that is linked to the overall deterioration in our polity and our self-definition as Indians.

This film was the result of a PSBT grant but this particular grant came from the Public Diplomacy division of the Ministry of External Affairs, which means that they wanted to fund a film that would 'showcase' India. It also meant that, in addition to a filmmakers' committee that gave feedback, I would also have to show the film to another committee put together by the government. The response to an early cut was iffy. I was told the film was depressing. I edited to make the film more positive overall. However, there was still a lot of pressure to get rid of a few aspects.

First, a reference to (child) widows and their treatment in eighteenth/nineteenth century India, and how that led to a movement for reform. Secondly, they wanted me to remove the word 'Harrafa'. It was initially argued that there was no such word. I sent dictionary references. Then, it was argued that the word shouldn't be used anyway. To deny that word was to deny a big chunk of women's history - their relationship with the written word and disapproval of those who could and did attain learning and literature. There were some discomfort also about some background visuals or the artwork (any sign of an actual body).

I argued back but (with all respect to PSBT, for they did try to argue on my behalf too) PD prevailed. I finally did a shorter version of the film and handed it over to them. However, I also insisted on doing a cut for myself, and to screen whenever I was invited to do so. Both versions (and trailer) have censor certificates. 

I am hoping we - women, men and all other genders - will find a way to keep pushing towards equity. The fight for women's rights is tied into the fight for human rights. One cannot have one without the other. May we succeed. I also hope we have the courage to remember our history, the way it actually was, or else we are doomed to repeat it. 

My gratitude to all who helped me along the way, to PSBT, my colleagues and the crew, people who agreed to be interviewed (including those interviews where the footage did not make it into the final cut), singers, musicians, friends who agreed to be filmed peripherally, friends who sat through the early versions and gave feedback, others who have hosted screenings and discussions.