Friday, August 20, 2010
59 jerks
And on a different, shorter route, I counted 59 pot-holes. Pot-hole counting is fast becoming my commute time-pass.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
My country, this calm morning
It is Independence day. I wish freedom and peace upon everyone.
It also happens to be the month of Ramzan, which is a month of self-restraint, self-reflection and charity. It would serve both occasions well if we could just retreat into ourselves for a minute or two everyday this month and think about what we want, what we say and do, and what we wish we could do - for our own lives and for our country.
Some people clearly have been doing all of the above and the result is Project S.T.R.I.P. It is one of the few productions I've watched recently that is totally plugged into our times and the souls of the principal actors in situations of conflict in modern India. Often, we read about or watch events unfolding that leave us feeling stunned, or helpless, or both. And when this happens too often, it seems as if there is no longer any language or creative tools left to use against ourselves. But this project does precisely that - looks around itself with empathy, honesty and humour and then just tells an engaging story.
I wish it were on somewhere on Independence Day, but I think it will be staged again next weekend. Do watch it if you get a chance.
On another note, I got the following message on email. I trust you all will do what you can:
"I was barely nine when my dear father committed suicide. My mother has worked really hard to send my brother, sister & me to school. She is still working hard to make our two ends meet... all she wants is ONE OLD MAGAZINE from you all, so she can make paper envelopes to earn & save environment... dear uncles & aunties, please-please do send us one old magazine every month to support us, so that we can go to better schools and live our lives with dignity and less suffering. My mother and other widow mothers like her will not hesitate to work hard to earn for us while saving the environment for the nation... I will be waiting with great expectations dear uncles & aunties for ONE OLD MAGAZINE from each one of you every month... If each one of you send one, it will become so many for my mother and other widow mothers to work hard to earn some amount every month... A very BIG THANK YOU from my brother, sister, my mother and me..."
SHEETAL RAMJI BARDE
our address:
Support 4 suicide farmers families
House No: 200
Opp: Dr. Harne's Hospital
Dhantoli Chowk
Wardha: 442001
It also happens to be the month of Ramzan, which is a month of self-restraint, self-reflection and charity. It would serve both occasions well if we could just retreat into ourselves for a minute or two everyday this month and think about what we want, what we say and do, and what we wish we could do - for our own lives and for our country.
Some people clearly have been doing all of the above and the result is Project S.T.R.I.P. It is one of the few productions I've watched recently that is totally plugged into our times and the souls of the principal actors in situations of conflict in modern India. Often, we read about or watch events unfolding that leave us feeling stunned, or helpless, or both. And when this happens too often, it seems as if there is no longer any language or creative tools left to use against ourselves. But this project does precisely that - looks around itself with empathy, honesty and humour and then just tells an engaging story.
I wish it were on somewhere on Independence Day, but I think it will be staged again next weekend. Do watch it if you get a chance.
On another note, I got the following message on email. I trust you all will do what you can:
"I was barely nine when my dear father committed suicide. My mother has worked really hard to send my brother, sister & me to school. She is still working hard to make our two ends meet... all she wants is ONE OLD MAGAZINE from you all, so she can make paper envelopes to earn & save environment... dear uncles & aunties, please-please do send us one old magazine every month to support us, so that we can go to better schools and live our lives with dignity and less suffering. My mother and other widow mothers like her will not hesitate to work hard to earn for us while saving the environment for the nation... I will be waiting with great expectations dear uncles & aunties for ONE OLD MAGAZINE from each one of you every month... If each one of you send one, it will become so many for my mother and other widow mothers to work hard to earn some amount every month... A very BIG THANK YOU from my brother, sister, my mother and me..."
SHEETAL RAMJI BARDE
our address:
Support 4 suicide farmers families
House No: 200
Opp: Dr. Harne's Hospital
Dhantoli Chowk
Wardha: 442001
Friday, August 13, 2010
Zoro.n ka jhatka
Dear Mira-Bhayandar Municipal Corporation
You must be reading a lot about malaria, pot-holes in Mumbai these days. We (you and I) are not quite Mumbai, which means that we don't get to read about our own malaria or pot-holes. I don't know if you've been counting. Your big sister across the naka claims to have only 593 potholes.
This is obviously a subject of much concern. Traffic was bad enough but these blighted holes slows traffic down to the point that people are willing to thrash other motorists and commuters lives become hellish because taxis and cabs refuse to go to high-traffic arterial roads. People with back and neck injuries can look forward to a worsening of their condition. The rest of us can look forward to developing spinal problems. This is nothing new of course. I remember a time, perhaps this was 2002, when I was reporting for Mid-day, when I rode pillion behind a photographer to go pot-hole hunting. Discomfort notwithstanding, it seemed exciting to zip around the city looking for mini-cirques along the way. If I tried to do it today, the bike probably wouldn't move from one mohalla, morning to night.
So I have been wondering just how many pot-holes we can boast of. I mean, we're growing faster than anyone can say 2BHK. We're not a village any more. We have malls, multiplexes, cars, arguments over parking space, famous burger places, three kinds of malaria... What more does a far-flung suburb want?
Our autos, of course, are not quite urban. Even if I boycott them, I cannot claim to be doing 'meter jam'. No meter, what would I jam? (But I will write to you in more detail at another time.) For now, I want to tell you about this auto-fellow who refused to take me home. I wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. The man began to bitterly complain. He said he wouldn't go from the station to my home because the road was too bad.
I flipped, asked him what he expected: Was I responsible, should I get down and begin patting down the road smooth for his majesty, why didn't his auto union do something about the bad road etc etc?
After I had finished yelling at him, I began to count the number of jerks I felt which signified the number of pot-holes there were on that particular stretch, which includes Mira Road's MTNL road.
I counted 63. On one stretch in one relatively new suburb, a ride that should taken five minutes actually takes nearly fifteen minutes, and 63 jolts to the spine.
Mind you, I am not actually counting every single pot-hole on that stretch. I just counted the number of times the auto had to lower a wheel into one of them.
Two days later, I counted again. This auto-wala was clearly not quite as skilled at skipping the craters. I counted 79, not including a small stretch at one end where I chose to walk.
79, eh? We're not doing badly. And I must tell you, I was counting small conglomerations of pot-holes that have effectively led to the disappearance of tiny bits of tarmac in-between as one single hole, because the 'jhatka' I felt was too diffused and drawn-out to be counted and attributed to separate holes.
So based on the experiences of this monsoon, I have a few suggestions.
One, let us hold MUSSJAR contests for autos. MUSSJAR = Mumbai and Surrounding Suburbs Jhatka Avoiding Race. This will raise the morale of the drivers and teach commuters how much skill is involved. You can safely sponsor the prizes. I am sure our local boys will win.
Two, let us have a Pot-hole Princess contest. Some people have already given the title to Mumbai. But I think it should be a fair contest between suburbs. Pot-holes are a game of chance but we stand a good chance of winning. You could institute a special prize for maximum number of pot-holes on a one kilometer stretch. MTNL road is a strong contender. This would draw welcome media attention to your commissioners and other senior officials. If you do this, I promise I be there with a bouquet for you - a hundred and one roses.
Three, after this monsoon, why don't you hire a specialist contractual firm and have all the roads dug up. Evenly, neatly, undeniably dug up. In effect, I am proposing that we have kuchcha roads instead of pucca ones.
The thing is, as I mentioned, in places where there are so many holes that the road itself disappears, one does not feel too much of a jhatka. The auto (or car) starts to feel like a cookie sliding across a bed of custard-jelly. It is slower but actually safer than a series of spine-threatening holes.
Besides, if no road remains, then no pot-holes will remain and that takes care of mosquitoes breeding in stagnant little pools all over the place. There might be some criticism of such a measure, particularly from car-owners, but do not be afraid. There is nothing more important than health. You can ask them to choose between smooth rides and cerebral malaria. That ought to shut them up.
The auto-walas, I'm sure, will not mind. You can tell them that Mira-Bhayandar has decided to rethink its urbanization strategy, since they refuse to adapt to metropolitan, professional norms of public transport, which include functional meters, and where drivers aren't twelve-year olds, nor carry more than three passengers. If they protest, perhaps we can come to some sort of compromise. We give you pucca roads; you give us metered rides. You get my drift?
My fourth suggestion regards traffic policemen. Now, I've been living with you for a decade almost and have never, ever, spotted a traffic cop working outdoors. There is supposed to be a lady constable posted on duty near the auto-stand at Mira Road station and she is much-needed there. (More about that in another letter.) But except for that, no traffic cops in sight. Do we have any? Where are they? Mumbai traffic constables have set a good example by taking on pot-holes themselves. Your big sister wasn't much shamed by their intervention, it seems. You might as well go a step further and requisition of our local traffic cops to map, control or neutralize pot-holes, or supervise the effective elimination of tar roads.
In the event that you choose to ignore my suggestions and instead go on patching the broken roads, season to wet season, please learn from your big sister's mistakes. She spent Rs 100 crore last season when it didn't rain that much. Rs 100 crore is a lot of money. Where did it wash up? Nobody can tell thus far, but poor Jayant Patil tried. He took some officials out on a spin to remind us all that wherever Rs 100 crore disappeared, it certainly wasn't slicked firm and fast over the city's motorable surfaces. Not even on the airport runways.
This year, BMC spent another Rs 20 crore. It might go up to Rs 40 crore. She still gets 60 complaints a day. 60 new pot-hole complaints every day! We cannot match that level of complaint, of course, because in Mira-Bhayandar, people are used to keeping their heads down and are far too busy trying to get into trains to be able to complain about anything.
But please treat this as one. A major complaint.
My final suggestion: It would be great if you could get a list of contractors along with the specific roads they worked on. If their work did not last even three monsoons, I suggest they be black-listed from all future projects, particularly those involving public infrastructure and public funds. Because that's our money. Ours, which basically means mine and a million people like me. Actually, it's not a suggestion this time. It's a demand.
Kindly do the needful.
Yours truly,
Annie Zaidi
August 12, 2010
You must be reading a lot about malaria, pot-holes in Mumbai these days. We (you and I) are not quite Mumbai, which means that we don't get to read about our own malaria or pot-holes. I don't know if you've been counting. Your big sister across the naka claims to have only 593 potholes.
This is obviously a subject of much concern. Traffic was bad enough but these blighted holes slows traffic down to the point that people are willing to thrash other motorists and commuters lives become hellish because taxis and cabs refuse to go to high-traffic arterial roads. People with back and neck injuries can look forward to a worsening of their condition. The rest of us can look forward to developing spinal problems. This is nothing new of course. I remember a time, perhaps this was 2002, when I was reporting for Mid-day, when I rode pillion behind a photographer to go pot-hole hunting. Discomfort notwithstanding, it seemed exciting to zip around the city looking for mini-cirques along the way. If I tried to do it today, the bike probably wouldn't move from one mohalla, morning to night.
So I have been wondering just how many pot-holes we can boast of. I mean, we're growing faster than anyone can say 2BHK. We're not a village any more. We have malls, multiplexes, cars, arguments over parking space, famous burger places, three kinds of malaria... What more does a far-flung suburb want?
Our autos, of course, are not quite urban. Even if I boycott them, I cannot claim to be doing 'meter jam'. No meter, what would I jam? (But I will write to you in more detail at another time.) For now, I want to tell you about this auto-fellow who refused to take me home. I wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. The man began to bitterly complain. He said he wouldn't go from the station to my home because the road was too bad.
I flipped, asked him what he expected: Was I responsible, should I get down and begin patting down the road smooth for his majesty, why didn't his auto union do something about the bad road etc etc?
After I had finished yelling at him, I began to count the number of jerks I felt which signified the number of pot-holes there were on that particular stretch, which includes Mira Road's MTNL road.
I counted 63. On one stretch in one relatively new suburb, a ride that should taken five minutes actually takes nearly fifteen minutes, and 63 jolts to the spine.
Mind you, I am not actually counting every single pot-hole on that stretch. I just counted the number of times the auto had to lower a wheel into one of them.
Two days later, I counted again. This auto-wala was clearly not quite as skilled at skipping the craters. I counted 79, not including a small stretch at one end where I chose to walk.
79, eh? We're not doing badly. And I must tell you, I was counting small conglomerations of pot-holes that have effectively led to the disappearance of tiny bits of tarmac in-between as one single hole, because the 'jhatka' I felt was too diffused and drawn-out to be counted and attributed to separate holes.
So based on the experiences of this monsoon, I have a few suggestions.
One, let us hold MUSSJAR contests for autos. MUSSJAR = Mumbai and Surrounding Suburbs Jhatka Avoiding Race. This will raise the morale of the drivers and teach commuters how much skill is involved. You can safely sponsor the prizes. I am sure our local boys will win.
Two, let us have a Pot-hole Princess contest. Some people have already given the title to Mumbai. But I think it should be a fair contest between suburbs. Pot-holes are a game of chance but we stand a good chance of winning. You could institute a special prize for maximum number of pot-holes on a one kilometer stretch. MTNL road is a strong contender. This would draw welcome media attention to your commissioners and other senior officials. If you do this, I promise I be there with a bouquet for you - a hundred and one roses.
Three, after this monsoon, why don't you hire a specialist contractual firm and have all the roads dug up. Evenly, neatly, undeniably dug up. In effect, I am proposing that we have kuchcha roads instead of pucca ones.
The thing is, as I mentioned, in places where there are so many holes that the road itself disappears, one does not feel too much of a jhatka. The auto (or car) starts to feel like a cookie sliding across a bed of custard-jelly. It is slower but actually safer than a series of spine-threatening holes.
Besides, if no road remains, then no pot-holes will remain and that takes care of mosquitoes breeding in stagnant little pools all over the place. There might be some criticism of such a measure, particularly from car-owners, but do not be afraid. There is nothing more important than health. You can ask them to choose between smooth rides and cerebral malaria. That ought to shut them up.
The auto-walas, I'm sure, will not mind. You can tell them that Mira-Bhayandar has decided to rethink its urbanization strategy, since they refuse to adapt to metropolitan, professional norms of public transport, which include functional meters, and where drivers aren't twelve-year olds, nor carry more than three passengers. If they protest, perhaps we can come to some sort of compromise. We give you pucca roads; you give us metered rides. You get my drift?
My fourth suggestion regards traffic policemen. Now, I've been living with you for a decade almost and have never, ever, spotted a traffic cop working outdoors. There is supposed to be a lady constable posted on duty near the auto-stand at Mira Road station and she is much-needed there. (More about that in another letter.) But except for that, no traffic cops in sight. Do we have any? Where are they? Mumbai traffic constables have set a good example by taking on pot-holes themselves. Your big sister wasn't much shamed by their intervention, it seems. You might as well go a step further and requisition of our local traffic cops to map, control or neutralize pot-holes, or supervise the effective elimination of tar roads.
In the event that you choose to ignore my suggestions and instead go on patching the broken roads, season to wet season, please learn from your big sister's mistakes. She spent Rs 100 crore last season when it didn't rain that much. Rs 100 crore is a lot of money. Where did it wash up? Nobody can tell thus far, but poor Jayant Patil tried. He took some officials out on a spin to remind us all that wherever Rs 100 crore disappeared, it certainly wasn't slicked firm and fast over the city's motorable surfaces. Not even on the airport runways.
This year, BMC spent another Rs 20 crore. It might go up to Rs 40 crore. She still gets 60 complaints a day. 60 new pot-hole complaints every day! We cannot match that level of complaint, of course, because in Mira-Bhayandar, people are used to keeping their heads down and are far too busy trying to get into trains to be able to complain about anything.
But please treat this as one. A major complaint.
My final suggestion: It would be great if you could get a list of contractors along with the specific roads they worked on. If their work did not last even three monsoons, I suggest they be black-listed from all future projects, particularly those involving public infrastructure and public funds. Because that's our money. Ours, which basically means mine and a million people like me. Actually, it's not a suggestion this time. It's a demand.
Kindly do the needful.
Yours truly,
Annie Zaidi
August 12, 2010
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Some more attention
All of which is pleasing:
http://www.telegraphindia.com/1100709/jsp/opinion/story_12659958.jsp
http://www.deccanherald.com/content/81799/searingly-truthful-tales.html
http://www.tribuneindia.com/2010/20100724/saturday/above.htm
Worse, of course
It was just something I felt instinctively to be true. Our khap honour is sullied most easily when caste is murking up the gotra waters. Now there's the National Commission for Women report seems to confirm the view.
"of the 560 cases where couples were threatened, 121 persons were killed... most violent reactions appeared to be prompted when a girl chose to marry a boy from a lower caste than herself...
"of the 560 cases where couples were threatened, 121 persons were killed... most violent reactions appeared to be prompted when a girl chose to marry a boy from a lower caste than herself...
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Reconciliation difficulties
There are times, I believe, when there can be no reconciliation. None that I can imagine.
People use that word so easily: reconciliation. Reconciling with the Taliban. With people who encourage people to stone women to death if they attempt to find love outside their miserable marriages, and cut off their noses and ears if they decide to walk out of an oppressive marriage. How does one reconcile? By saying - "Okay, now we're not enemies any more, you can go home and resume your lives. We aren't going to fight you." Is that it?
How do women reconcile themselves to that sort of reconciliation? I know there are horrors enough in my own country, democracy or not. But if there is nothing else, there is the constitution. What would I do if someone physically damaged me and I knew there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it? No filing of complaints with the police, no access to gender-neutral courts, no resolution through the local religious leaders. I keep thinking of that teenager who tried to run away from abuse and whose nose and ears were cut off. I don't know what I would do if I lived next door to her, or slept in the bed next to hers at some secret shelter for women. I might want many things from the world, but I don't think 'reconcile with the Taliban' would be one of them.
Someone has said that to watch oppression or to know that your friends, those who you considered your own, stood by and silently watched while someone else went about the business of oppression, is unforgivable.
We have more than enough evidence of growing intolerance in our backyard. If its not religious fundamentalists (any religion's fundamentalists), it's political extremism and linguistic chauvinism - all driven home through a combination of actual violence and the threat of losing your livelihood if you don't toe the line.
In a state that has a government led by a party prides itself on its secular credentials, its championing of the rights of minorities etc. A woman who refuses to wear a burqa or hijaab in an environment where everybody else does wear one is a minority. She has the right to wear what she likes. Just like a minority educational institution has the right to exist. If one right is lost, the other deserves to be lost too.
I just wish the Aliah University would remember that. And the government of West Bengal. It has no business reconciling itself to economic and social blackmail of this sort.
People use that word so easily: reconciliation. Reconciling with the Taliban. With people who encourage people to stone women to death if they attempt to find love outside their miserable marriages, and cut off their noses and ears if they decide to walk out of an oppressive marriage. How does one reconcile? By saying - "Okay, now we're not enemies any more, you can go home and resume your lives. We aren't going to fight you." Is that it?
How do women reconcile themselves to that sort of reconciliation? I know there are horrors enough in my own country, democracy or not. But if there is nothing else, there is the constitution. What would I do if someone physically damaged me and I knew there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it? No filing of complaints with the police, no access to gender-neutral courts, no resolution through the local religious leaders. I keep thinking of that teenager who tried to run away from abuse and whose nose and ears were cut off. I don't know what I would do if I lived next door to her, or slept in the bed next to hers at some secret shelter for women. I might want many things from the world, but I don't think 'reconcile with the Taliban' would be one of them.
Someone has said that to watch oppression or to know that your friends, those who you considered your own, stood by and silently watched while someone else went about the business of oppression, is unforgivable.
We have more than enough evidence of growing intolerance in our backyard. If its not religious fundamentalists (any religion's fundamentalists), it's political extremism and linguistic chauvinism - all driven home through a combination of actual violence and the threat of losing your livelihood if you don't toe the line.
In a state that has a government led by a party prides itself on its secular credentials, its championing of the rights of minorities etc. A woman who refuses to wear a burqa or hijaab in an environment where everybody else does wear one is a minority. She has the right to wear what she likes. Just like a minority educational institution has the right to exist. If one right is lost, the other deserves to be lost too.
I just wish the Aliah University would remember that. And the government of West Bengal. It has no business reconciling itself to economic and social blackmail of this sort.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
some more world class
What, or rather, where do you think the writer is talking about? Subsidies on transport etc?
"You will see the shiny metros with their relatively empty coaches – with excellent security systems, I might add – but you will not get any insight on why they go empty and need large operating subsidies."
Not India, no. Not yet. He's talking about 'world-class' transport infrastructure that our politicians and bureaucrats want to emulate. He's talking about the USA.
"Upon seeing the deserted neighbourhoods, you might ask, why did Camden deteriorate? Well, the story goes like this. From the 1950′s onwards, USA embarked on a massive project to connect its cities with “interstate” highways. But rather than making cities more prosperous, these new highways precipitated the flight of the white middle class into the sparsely populated suburbs. These new suburbs were accessible only by cars, because public transport was unviable at such low population densities. As a result, a car become a basic necessity in American life and no one walked or cycled on the streets any more. Trips became longer, highways became congested and the governments built more highways to meet the demand that they themselves had artificially created."
It is a must-read and I hope the chief minister reads it. Please bring it to his attention, somebody.
The transport system in this city is a godawful mess and far too much of this mess is artificially created. Perhaps I will write about it some day from a citizen commuter's perspective. For now, there's this post.
"You will see the shiny metros with their relatively empty coaches – with excellent security systems, I might add – but you will not get any insight on why they go empty and need large operating subsidies."
Not India, no. Not yet. He's talking about 'world-class' transport infrastructure that our politicians and bureaucrats want to emulate. He's talking about the USA.
"Upon seeing the deserted neighbourhoods, you might ask, why did Camden deteriorate? Well, the story goes like this. From the 1950′s onwards, USA embarked on a massive project to connect its cities with “interstate” highways. But rather than making cities more prosperous, these new highways precipitated the flight of the white middle class into the sparsely populated suburbs. These new suburbs were accessible only by cars, because public transport was unviable at such low population densities. As a result, a car become a basic necessity in American life and no one walked or cycled on the streets any more. Trips became longer, highways became congested and the governments built more highways to meet the demand that they themselves had artificially created."
It is a must-read and I hope the chief minister reads it. Please bring it to his attention, somebody.
The transport system in this city is a godawful mess and far too much of this mess is artificially created. Perhaps I will write about it some day from a citizen commuter's perspective. For now, there's this post.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Mafia!
Rs 17 crore a day. A day! And that's just the monies on record. No wonder the stakes are so high.
Maybe someone can nudge Bollywood in Bellary's direction. Only the mafia can afford to fund the kind of budgets Hindi films come up with these days, and only they can afford to digest the fantastic losses and not burp up a protest at the end of the week. What's a crore here or there, eh?
That aside, read this piece.
Maybe someone can nudge Bollywood in Bellary's direction. Only the mafia can afford to fund the kind of budgets Hindi films come up with these days, and only they can afford to digest the fantastic losses and not burp up a protest at the end of the week. What's a crore here or there, eh?
That aside, read this piece.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Speaking of which
I hope Bombay get some urinals too. I have mixed feelings about stepping out of home on a rare, clear afternoon in this gorgeous monsoon weather and the first thing I come up against is an open drain with more brown water gushing past within than the Yamuna has had for the last few decades, and then to spot a gleaming silver Esteem car, out of which a man in a pair of branded jeans emerges, struts towards the drain and urinates into it.
It is not nice at all when you have to hurry past and a little further, what do you see? Another car - a bigger, more expensive one - with another young man urinating into the same excessive ditch. I can swear that the fellow's haircut must have cost him more than six month's worth of peeing in pay-n-use toilets in the cities. It really is time we got public urinals on every other street with massive fines for not using them.
It is not nice at all when you have to hurry past and a little further, what do you see? Another car - a bigger, more expensive one - with another young man urinating into the same excessive ditch. I can swear that the fellow's haircut must have cost him more than six month's worth of peeing in pay-n-use toilets in the cities. It really is time we got public urinals on every other street with massive fines for not using them.
Love, like, hate, hope.
One has to love this country. If, in the midst of a minor parliamentary crisis in one of our most populous states, you can have images like these... I mean, one is appalled. And one has to love this country.
You must have read the morning papers, so I don't need to reproduce the photos but if you haven't, go look at the links.
And one also has to wonder at this country. A country that gets rid of its poor, its homeless, its desperate and hardest working people, even its dogs and bullocks and rats and snakes and elephants - all of which we worship - so that white people are not shocked when they look at us.
This is a disturbing article. Packing off 75,000 beggars, sending them out of Delhi? Not to mention 250,000 stray dogs.
Someone mentioned this on Facebook:"75,000 beggars, 60,000 pavement squatters, 800,000 slum-dwellers and 250,000 dogs" compete with "26 new flyovers, 18 railway bridges, 3,775 low-floor buses" for an Oct 3-14 (Nero's?) party whose budget inflated from initial $413m to an estimated official figure of $2bn (unofficial estimates of $6bn)"
What shocked me more than the statistics or the article itself was the response. One gentleman left a comment saying: '...it is a natural tendency and even I like to clean up my house and 'push things under the carpet' whenever I ve visitors at home although there is no human cost attached to it.'
I couldn't get past that one word 'things'. Things? Things under the carpet? And 'my house'?
And that was just it. That is one of the most telling narratives about why we cannot treat ourselves with the respect we deserve as citizens. Because some of us view other people as 'things'. Dirty, messy, extraneous rags that you need around the house because what else will you use when you mop up your floors? Like servants - the people who migrate from villages that have been made poorer over the years - who you assume have no purpose in life except to come shine your floors and clean the fungus off your rotting furniture and pull your cycle rickshaws. And when the nice visitors come, it is time to brush them under the carpet. Keep the mess in the kitchen, or under the bed, or pack off the guy who sleeps on the rickshaw at night back to some village since you are so afraid that the nice visitors might be shocked at how messy your rags are.
What makes us so ugly? What does it cost the state to start looking upon people as citizens?
And beggars and pavement-dwellers are citizens. They're citizens [notwithstanding snarky attempts by the West Bengal official quoted in the article who suggests that despite being Bengali-speaking, the beggars may well be Bangladeshi, which of course would mean that the state will not have them stay. Because Bangladeshi beggars don't deserve to live, right?] and they have a right to be in the house. It's their house too. It's our house.
I am sick of people complaining about migrants and slum-dwellers who mess up your 'developed' cities. This is how cities develop. Maybe we should teach children in their history lessons in school. Cities are centres of power and they grow bigger because there is a lot of administrative and service-sector work available. But hardly ever have cities been planned to accommodate a set number of people with all the facilities they need, pre-fabricated and easily available. When population growth happens, then the state realises that it needs to expand services and citizens realise there is a larger business opportunity. That is why builders and carpenters, sweepers and restaurant-owners stay. That is how they grow. How can a builder possibly lay larger claims to the city than the labourer he brought in to build his building? How can we who live in these buildings forget that the labourer has at least a right to sleep on the streets, if we cannot find him affordable housing?
Cities like Bombay and Delhi develop explosively when there is a problem in other parts of the country. We know that. We know that displacement and drought and water and electricity are a problem. We read newspapers. We know we don't have our own water bodies, not enough to meet our needs. So we take water from villages settled beside rivers. We use their water to build dams and generate electricity to light our streets and give us air-conditioning. Then they don't have enough water and so they come to cities. And we accuse them of stealing water and electricity. Of messing up our cities. We are distressed by their presence because they are things that will need to be brushed under the carpet when nice clean visitors come visiting.
Phew! Okay, so I've let off steam. And now to go back to the article, the one positive thing I spotted was that the MCD will be building 10,000 public urinals and fining people for spitting. Hallelujah! Yippies! I hope they do. I hope the snake-charmers don't show up until after the games begin, though. It will be so much nicer for the nice, clean visitors to get a chance to watch the charmers in action. The snakes might frighten them, true, but think of how much it will boost tourism after the games are over. Delhi will be full of foreign people armed with snake-repellents and cameras and hoping to catch a glimpse of SRK playing the been.
You must have read the morning papers, so I don't need to reproduce the photos but if you haven't, go look at the links.
And one also has to wonder at this country. A country that gets rid of its poor, its homeless, its desperate and hardest working people, even its dogs and bullocks and rats and snakes and elephants - all of which we worship - so that white people are not shocked when they look at us.
This is a disturbing article. Packing off 75,000 beggars, sending them out of Delhi? Not to mention 250,000 stray dogs.
Someone mentioned this on Facebook:"75,000 beggars, 60,000 pavement squatters, 800,000 slum-dwellers and 250,000 dogs" compete with "26 new flyovers, 18 railway bridges, 3,775 low-floor buses" for an Oct 3-14 (Nero's?) party whose budget inflated from initial $413m to an estimated official figure of $2bn (unofficial estimates of $6bn)"
What shocked me more than the statistics or the article itself was the response. One gentleman left a comment saying: '...it is a natural tendency and even I like to clean up my house and 'push things under the carpet' whenever I ve visitors at home although there is no human cost attached to it.'
I couldn't get past that one word 'things'. Things? Things under the carpet? And 'my house'?
And that was just it. That is one of the most telling narratives about why we cannot treat ourselves with the respect we deserve as citizens. Because some of us view other people as 'things'. Dirty, messy, extraneous rags that you need around the house because what else will you use when you mop up your floors? Like servants - the people who migrate from villages that have been made poorer over the years - who you assume have no purpose in life except to come shine your floors and clean the fungus off your rotting furniture and pull your cycle rickshaws. And when the nice visitors come, it is time to brush them under the carpet. Keep the mess in the kitchen, or under the bed, or pack off the guy who sleeps on the rickshaw at night back to some village since you are so afraid that the nice visitors might be shocked at how messy your rags are.
What makes us so ugly? What does it cost the state to start looking upon people as citizens?
And beggars and pavement-dwellers are citizens. They're citizens [notwithstanding snarky attempts by the West Bengal official quoted in the article who suggests that despite being Bengali-speaking, the beggars may well be Bangladeshi, which of course would mean that the state will not have them stay. Because Bangladeshi beggars don't deserve to live, right?] and they have a right to be in the house. It's their house too. It's our house.
I am sick of people complaining about migrants and slum-dwellers who mess up your 'developed' cities. This is how cities develop. Maybe we should teach children in their history lessons in school. Cities are centres of power and they grow bigger because there is a lot of administrative and service-sector work available. But hardly ever have cities been planned to accommodate a set number of people with all the facilities they need, pre-fabricated and easily available. When population growth happens, then the state realises that it needs to expand services and citizens realise there is a larger business opportunity. That is why builders and carpenters, sweepers and restaurant-owners stay. That is how they grow. How can a builder possibly lay larger claims to the city than the labourer he brought in to build his building? How can we who live in these buildings forget that the labourer has at least a right to sleep on the streets, if we cannot find him affordable housing?
Cities like Bombay and Delhi develop explosively when there is a problem in other parts of the country. We know that. We know that displacement and drought and water and electricity are a problem. We read newspapers. We know we don't have our own water bodies, not enough to meet our needs. So we take water from villages settled beside rivers. We use their water to build dams and generate electricity to light our streets and give us air-conditioning. Then they don't have enough water and so they come to cities. And we accuse them of stealing water and electricity. Of messing up our cities. We are distressed by their presence because they are things that will need to be brushed under the carpet when nice clean visitors come visiting.
Phew! Okay, so I've let off steam. And now to go back to the article, the one positive thing I spotted was that the MCD will be building 10,000 public urinals and fining people for spitting. Hallelujah! Yippies! I hope they do. I hope the snake-charmers don't show up until after the games begin, though. It will be so much nicer for the nice, clean visitors to get a chance to watch the charmers in action. The snakes might frighten them, true, but think of how much it will boost tourism after the games are over. Delhi will be full of foreign people armed with snake-repellents and cameras and hoping to catch a glimpse of SRK playing the been.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
The T-nT girls
Saw this piece, thanks to Nilanjana.
From inside Germany she reported on the hundreds of anti-Semitic laws passed, the beatings (and worse) meted out to those opposing Hitler, and the building of a concentration camp at Dachau in 1933.
The piece is absolutely enriching and for many, many women writers, will also be liberating. I might even buy the novel written by the author, though I have to confess I'd much rather have read a non-fiction account.
American women reporters were barred from press briefings, banned from going nearer to the front than the nurses in the field, and were not provided by the military with transport, as their male colleagues were.
Most galling, however, women reporters had to wait to submit their reports until after the men. Similarly, when the British government accredited 558 writers, radio journalists and photographers to cover the D-day landings, not one was a woman (even though many women had both seen and reported the Blitz three years earlier).
Some women war correspondents wrote under different names.From inside Germany she reported on the hundreds of anti-Semitic laws passed, the beatings (and worse) meted out to those opposing Hitler, and the building of a concentration camp at Dachau in 1933.
When her articles raised Nazi hackles she began to publish stories under the name John Dickson, a reporter apparently living in Paris.
Also, there were women like Gellhorn, Ernest Hemingway's wife and, later, professional rival... Tall and leggy, her shoulder-length hair worn loose, Gellhorn chased her stories in tweeds and gowns.
She pitched a piece to Vogue on 'the beauty problems of the middle-aged woman' that paid for her ticket. 'I am going to Spain with the boys,' she wrote to a family friend. 'I don't know who the boys are, but I am going with them.'
But her marriage to Hemingway ended when he pitched for a job she had been chasing. He got the job. But she got the scoop. Here's how:
The piece is absolutely enriching and for many, many women writers, will also be liberating. I might even buy the novel written by the author, though I have to confess I'd much rather have read a non-fiction account.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
lies, fines, and libel
Monsanto has been a bad boy again! And has got one little rap on the knuckles for its lying, legal wigglsomeness. Makes you wonder... a company that afford to pay $2.5 million as a fine, for a single misbranding episode on a single seed species... how large must the global food pie be and just how high the stakes? And if the stakes are really so high, how much lies will food companies tell?
No wonder food and agri companies are fighting so very hard to lobby for lax food labeling laws, to the extent of getting states in the USA to pass 'food slander' laws. Now you cannot point to a certain food and say its bad for your health, not unless you have pockets deep enough for a courtroom battle. It sets a dangerous precedent in my view.
I mean, in the past, Macdonald's has defended itself in court claiming to serve healthy food, while accusing activists of libel. "David Green, McDonald’s Senior Vice-President of Marketing (USA), stated 'McDonald's food is nutritious' and 'healthy'. When asked what the company meant by 'nutritious' he said: 'provides nutrients and can be a part of a healthy balanced diet'. He admitted this could also apply to a packet of sweets [candy]. When asked if Coca Cola is 'nutritious' he replied that it is 'providing water, and I think that is part of a balanced diet'. He agreed that by his definition Coke is ‘nutritious’. "
The case, incidentally, is known as Mclibel and for those who are keen, there's a website detailing the long legal battle. It is worthwhile reading if for no other reason than to be inspired by how two regular people with difficulties in their own personal and professional lives, who obviously had much better uses for their time and very limited reserves of money, chose to stand up for their beliefs, to see how they refused to get bullied by a big company with deep pockets, and how it is possible to win sometimes, even if you lose.
No wonder food and agri companies are fighting so very hard to lobby for lax food labeling laws, to the extent of getting states in the USA to pass 'food slander' laws. Now you cannot point to a certain food and say its bad for your health, not unless you have pockets deep enough for a courtroom battle. It sets a dangerous precedent in my view.
I mean, in the past, Macdonald's has defended itself in court claiming to serve healthy food, while accusing activists of libel. "David Green, McDonald’s Senior Vice-President of Marketing (USA), stated 'McDonald's food is nutritious' and 'healthy'. When asked what the company meant by 'nutritious' he said: 'provides nutrients and can be a part of a healthy balanced diet'. He admitted this could also apply to a packet of sweets [candy]. When asked if Coca Cola is 'nutritious' he replied that it is 'providing water, and I think that is part of a balanced diet'. He agreed that by his definition Coke is ‘nutritious’. "
The case, incidentally, is known as Mclibel and for those who are keen, there's a website detailing the long legal battle. It is worthwhile reading if for no other reason than to be inspired by how two regular people with difficulties in their own personal and professional lives, who obviously had much better uses for their time and very limited reserves of money, chose to stand up for their beliefs, to see how they refused to get bullied by a big company with deep pockets, and how it is possible to win sometimes, even if you lose.
Friday, July 09, 2010
Terrors, past and present
I've been away for a bit. Traveling in Madhya Pradesh, trying to reach a more clear understanding of displacement, particularly that of tribal populations, and state policy. Saw a lot of interesting stuff that I am still processing. Might post bits and pieces over the next new weeks.
In the meantime, here's a lot to chew on: did you know that there was a Jewish terrorism before there was a Palestinian one? That a former Israeli PM was once a wanted man with a hundred thousand pounds on his head? Did you know who bin Laden was ,before he was considered a threat?
This is a great piece on terrorism - understanding it, defining it, combating it. Without acknowledging that 'terror' has often been a word used to come down hard on people who were oppressed, or dismissed, or treated unfairly, India doesn't have a chance in hell of resolving her own 'internal security threats'. What a pity that the author is already dead. Now is when he is needed most to talk sense, particularly in India.
And here is a very simple, straightforward introduction to the way India is entangling itself in multiple cycles of threat, dismissal and resentment. A four step process that basically boils down to - first you ignore them, then you oppress them, then you dismiss their protests and oppress them some more, and when they force you to listen, you ignore the real issues anyway.
It is interesting, what the piece says about Madhya Pradesh being one of the few states that has theoretically agreed on consulting with the gram sabhas before taking any major decision that might translate into capturing local resources. I will remember to factor that in when I think about the stuff I've been seeing and listening to.
Both must-reads.
In the meantime, here's a lot to chew on: did you know that there was a Jewish terrorism before there was a Palestinian one? That a former Israeli PM was once a wanted man with a hundred thousand pounds on his head? Did you know who bin Laden was ,before he was considered a threat?
This is a great piece on terrorism - understanding it, defining it, combating it. Without acknowledging that 'terror' has often been a word used to come down hard on people who were oppressed, or dismissed, or treated unfairly, India doesn't have a chance in hell of resolving her own 'internal security threats'. What a pity that the author is already dead. Now is when he is needed most to talk sense, particularly in India.
And here is a very simple, straightforward introduction to the way India is entangling itself in multiple cycles of threat, dismissal and resentment. A four step process that basically boils down to - first you ignore them, then you oppress them, then you dismiss their protests and oppress them some more, and when they force you to listen, you ignore the real issues anyway.
It is interesting, what the piece says about Madhya Pradesh being one of the few states that has theoretically agreed on consulting with the gram sabhas before taking any major decision that might translate into capturing local resources. I will remember to factor that in when I think about the stuff I've been seeing and listening to.
Both must-reads.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
money on my mind
This is not a judgmental post. I do not mean to bitch about how small the hearts of our Messrs Moneybags are. I just want to understand this business of money and parting with it and how it can be done happily.
Take a look at this piece. If you believe the statistics here, we really aren't growing more generous although many of us are doing much better financially than we could have hoped to, barely two decades ago. In other words, we aren't exactly anxious for our money to trickle down. Whether this is because we are suspicious of agencies who seek donor funds or of NGOs themselves, I'm not sure.
I have rarely taken decisions motivated solely based on how much money I will make or lose, but I have slid back and forth between need and greed on the lifestyle scale. And I find it hard to understand what makes people hold on tighter to their wealth as they acquire more of it.
I have been getting phone calls quite frequently, especially over the last three months, asking for donations to this or that 'sanstha'. I have always said a firm 'no' - primarily because I don't have any money left to give, but also because I don't like direct solicitations on the phone from strangers. I have not signed up on a list, nor allowed my phone number to be given out to NGOs. In fact, I have repeatedly signed up on a DND (do not disturb) list, which neither Airtel nor Reliance seems to respect. And so, when I take such calls, I am annoyed in much the same way as when I get calls from banks, insurance providers or real estate developers.
But assuming I had more than enough money, and assuming I wanted it to trickle down, would I give it to charitable organisations?
I know a lot of Indians - including many in my family - are content to help lesser privileged people in their immediate sphere of influence. Domestic workers, chauffeurs, neighbourhood sanitation workers, their extended families, and so on. 'Help' often translates into volunteering time to teach the children of such service providers, or helping organise their weddings, giving presents of money and clothes and food.
I suppose it is better than nothing. To want to help others around you is great. But there's no getting away from the fact that there is a selfish motive built into this kind of charity. You give old sarees to the cook to ensure she stays put. You put the gardener's son through school and hope he will tend to your papayas with more enthusiasm. And while there is nothing wrong with wanting your workers to stay on and work well, such 'help' seems more like work incentives, an additional family benefit or bonus.
The only people who receive money from millions of Indians, without really giving anything back but their blessings are beggars. And many of us do give money to beggars quite often, although it is not a good system to give through.
Which brings me back to what I started with. What makes us so reluctant to give to organised charities? As the article says, there is some suspicion of NGOs. I, for one, would like to have actually seen the kind of work an NGO does and if I approved and found myself able to donate something, I would.
So, is 'outreach' the solution? Should charities invite more donors over to look at where the funds are being spent? I know that there are enough NGOs out there that are well-known enough to be trusted. Which doesn't mean they spend our money better. It just means that we have heard of them so often and in such positive contexts that we don't really associate their staff with misappropriation of funds. Yet, India hardly donates.
Or is there something inherently flawed abut the structure of charity and the way it makes appeals to your conscience? And why does it work better in some countries and why not in India?
Take a look at this piece. If you believe the statistics here, we really aren't growing more generous although many of us are doing much better financially than we could have hoped to, barely two decades ago. In other words, we aren't exactly anxious for our money to trickle down. Whether this is because we are suspicious of agencies who seek donor funds or of NGOs themselves, I'm not sure.
I have rarely taken decisions motivated solely based on how much money I will make or lose, but I have slid back and forth between need and greed on the lifestyle scale. And I find it hard to understand what makes people hold on tighter to their wealth as they acquire more of it.
When I was younger I believed - I can no longer imagine why - that those who had more than enough money didn't care about it. They just spent and shared and demanded without even thinking about it. I used to think that those who had to scrounge, those who had to hang on to every four-anna bit were forced into pettiness, being fiercely protective of the little they had. This was received wisdom, I suppose, because I had neither much money nor much cause to worry, nor any truly rich or truly poor friends. Or perhaps, it was something absorbed from media. Notions like 'the middle class was 'balanced' in its approach'. There were also a few assumptions about 'class'. About how money allowed people freedom and refinement.
But once I began reporting and was exposed to society's extremities and fringes, all certainties vanished.
I found myself in the homes of millionaires and saw an obsessive approach to money. I also saw simplicity and good breeding. But not always. Often, I found tight fists and snipped corners. But work usually took me to the homes of those who would prefer to be left alone. Even in the midst of a crisis, I found the poor behaving with a measure of civility and consideration.
I found myself in the homes of millionaires and saw an obsessive approach to money. I also saw simplicity and good breeding. But not always. Often, I found tight fists and snipped corners. But work usually took me to the homes of those who would prefer to be left alone. Even in the midst of a crisis, I found the poor behaving with a measure of civility and consideration.
This had little to do with what I could offer them. Small examples: I once accompanied a police team raiding a brothel, after a tip-off about minors being held there. The frightened and irritable sex workers were unfailingly polite, and slightly apologetic. If they weren't being rounded up and hauled off to the police station, I'm sure they would have offered me some tea. And my presence certainly did not prevent them from being hauled off.
I also remember going to a struggling (but pedigreed) actress' home for an interview. It was a time when she needed to stay visible and could do with all the interviews she could get. But she kept me waiting, didn't bother to apologize, and remembered to ask whether or not I'd like some tea only when I had abandoned all hopes of getting a cup.
I also remember going to a struggling (but pedigreed) actress' home for an interview. It was a time when she needed to stay visible and could do with all the interviews she could get. But she kept me waiting, didn't bother to apologize, and remembered to ask whether or not I'd like some tea only when I had abandoned all hopes of getting a cup.
Over the years, I found this turning into a pattern. The richer the person, the lesser she/he seemed to care about your needs.
And even today, I find this hard to explain. What is it about money? How does it manage to change human beings in such ways? I would understand if having money lessened your insecurities and made you generous. I don't understand why it draws your empathy out into a single thread that is wrapped tightly around your immediate family and yourself.
And like I said, this is not a judgmental post. It is very likely that if I made a little more money, I would find myself changing in the same way. Perhaps, there is some in-born need to protect what you have and you always need more to protect more. I am just trying to understand why it happens.
And even today, I find this hard to explain. What is it about money? How does it manage to change human beings in such ways? I would understand if having money lessened your insecurities and made you generous. I don't understand why it draws your empathy out into a single thread that is wrapped tightly around your immediate family and yourself.
And like I said, this is not a judgmental post. It is very likely that if I made a little more money, I would find myself changing in the same way. Perhaps, there is some in-born need to protect what you have and you always need more to protect more. I am just trying to understand why it happens.
I have been getting phone calls quite frequently, especially over the last three months, asking for donations to this or that 'sanstha'. I have always said a firm 'no' - primarily because I don't have any money left to give, but also because I don't like direct solicitations on the phone from strangers. I have not signed up on a list, nor allowed my phone number to be given out to NGOs. In fact, I have repeatedly signed up on a DND (do not disturb) list, which neither Airtel nor Reliance seems to respect. And so, when I take such calls, I am annoyed in much the same way as when I get calls from banks, insurance providers or real estate developers.
But assuming I had more than enough money, and assuming I wanted it to trickle down, would I give it to charitable organisations?
I know a lot of Indians - including many in my family - are content to help lesser privileged people in their immediate sphere of influence. Domestic workers, chauffeurs, neighbourhood sanitation workers, their extended families, and so on. 'Help' often translates into volunteering time to teach the children of such service providers, or helping organise their weddings, giving presents of money and clothes and food.
I suppose it is better than nothing. To want to help others around you is great. But there's no getting away from the fact that there is a selfish motive built into this kind of charity. You give old sarees to the cook to ensure she stays put. You put the gardener's son through school and hope he will tend to your papayas with more enthusiasm. And while there is nothing wrong with wanting your workers to stay on and work well, such 'help' seems more like work incentives, an additional family benefit or bonus.
The only people who receive money from millions of Indians, without really giving anything back but their blessings are beggars. And many of us do give money to beggars quite often, although it is not a good system to give through.
So, is 'outreach' the solution? Should charities invite more donors over to look at where the funds are being spent? I know that there are enough NGOs out there that are well-known enough to be trusted. Which doesn't mean they spend our money better. It just means that we have heard of them so often and in such positive contexts that we don't really associate their staff with misappropriation of funds. Yet, India hardly donates.
Or is there something inherently flawed abut the structure of charity and the way it makes appeals to your conscience? And why does it work better in some countries and why not in India?
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
A 350 ton problem
It isn't over until it really is over.
Like this great article says, the real tragedy of Bhopal is, perhaps, that it is still unfolding. That people still fall sick and need regular treatment and lose jobs because they are sick so often. And yes, there's a hospital, where 'Everything is free. But there is a price on every treatment'.
“Twenty rupees for the bed, 50 rupees for the blood test,” says his daughter. Khan’s lungs have weakened to the point where he cannot work any more. He is entitled to a pension, which was recently increased to about Rs 300 from Rs 150. This is yet another heartbreak. To be eligible for the new pension, he has to fill out a form. And for the last two months, he says, he has been going to the local nagar nigam office only to be told that the forms have not reached.'
Nice, no? A pension of Rs 300. And it was Rs 150 until recently. Makes you proud to be Indian, eh? We give old and sick people a pension! A whole 150 rupees.
The article also goes on to cite studies that show that the land is still 'highly' contaminated with chemical like Carbyl. And "Carbaryl, says the report, damages brain and nervous system, and causes endocrine disruption and abnormal child development."
Plus, there's no money to research the illnesses associated with the tragedy - and some doctors are asking for less than Rs 2 crore to initiate research.
Plus, the houses they built for the widows are such that in the Widhwa Colony, barely two kilometers from the Carbide factory, "It is difficult to say which is the bigger disaster – that so many men died, or, that their widows now lead such a deprived existence. All the houses are shoddily built. In one home, the wall was so poorly connected to the stairway it was meant to support, that the two have pulled away altogether. Other houses had finger-thick holes in the walls, the outcome of residents trying to hammer nails in. There are sanitation issues too — the water pipe has been laid underground a foot away from the sewage pipe."
Sometimes I think Bhopal is a sign-board, a laser beam that points to the fact that we have made a mockery of ourselves, nationhood, democracy. Whatever our 'Indian values' comprise, justice doesn't seem to be on the list.
Like this great article says, the real tragedy of Bhopal is, perhaps, that it is still unfolding. That people still fall sick and need regular treatment and lose jobs because they are sick so often. And yes, there's a hospital, where 'Everything is free. But there is a price on every treatment'.
“Twenty rupees for the bed, 50 rupees for the blood test,” says his daughter. Khan’s lungs have weakened to the point where he cannot work any more. He is entitled to a pension, which was recently increased to about Rs 300 from Rs 150. This is yet another heartbreak. To be eligible for the new pension, he has to fill out a form. And for the last two months, he says, he has been going to the local nagar nigam office only to be told that the forms have not reached.'
Nice, no? A pension of Rs 300. And it was Rs 150 until recently. Makes you proud to be Indian, eh? We give old and sick people a pension! A whole 150 rupees.
The article also goes on to cite studies that show that the land is still 'highly' contaminated with chemical like Carbyl. And "Carbaryl, says the report, damages brain and nervous system, and causes endocrine disruption and abnormal child development."
Plus, there's no money to research the illnesses associated with the tragedy - and some doctors are asking for less than Rs 2 crore to initiate research.
Plus, the houses they built for the widows are such that in the Widhwa Colony, barely two kilometers from the Carbide factory, "It is difficult to say which is the bigger disaster – that so many men died, or, that their widows now lead such a deprived existence. All the houses are shoddily built. In one home, the wall was so poorly connected to the stairway it was meant to support, that the two have pulled away altogether. Other houses had finger-thick holes in the walls, the outcome of residents trying to hammer nails in. There are sanitation issues too — the water pipe has been laid underground a foot away from the sewage pipe."
Sometimes I think Bhopal is a sign-board, a laser beam that points to the fact that we have made a mockery of ourselves, nationhood, democracy. Whatever our 'Indian values' comprise, justice doesn't seem to be on the list.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Betrayals of the faith
The real Islamic crisis, I think, is this.
"At the time I was learning to memorise the Koran from a very kind, mild-mannered teacher.
And this is not just about Pakistan. This is also about India. Because this is the madness on our side of the border:
"Dr. Naik recommends the death penalty for homosexuals and for apostasy from the faith, which he likens to wartime treason. He calls for India to be ruled by the medieval tenets of Shariah law. He supports a ban on the construction of non-Muslim places of worship in Muslim lands and the Taliban's bombing of the Bamiyan Buddhas. He says revealing clothes make Western women "more susceptible to rape." Not surprisingly, Dr. Naik believes that Jews "control America" and are the "strongest in enmity to Muslims."
"Of course, every faith has its share of cranks; and, arguably, India has more than its share. But it's impossible to relegate Dr. Naik to Indian Islam's fringe. Earlier this year, the Indian Express listed him as the country's 89th most powerful person, ahead of Nobel Laureate economist Amartya Sen, eminent lawyer and former attorney general Soli Sorabjee, and former Indian Premier League cricket commissioner Lalit Modi. Dr. Naik's satellite TV channel, Peace TV, claims a global viewership of up to 50 million people in 125 countries.
Somebody help! I've heard from a few 'moderate' or 'modern' Muslims that This Dr Naik fellow is worth watching, that they want to learn from him, preach like him, or emulate him. And of course, if you are a fundamentalist in a suit and tie... its kind of convenient, isn't it? Nobody thinks of you as a fundamentalist. And that's half your job done. Because nobody can dismiss you, then, the way you'd dismiss a loony with an AK-47, or a woman in a burqa and elbow-high gloves, who is so clearly far out, so clearly different from your life and your faith that you don't even feel the need to disassociate yourself from him/her.
The article goes on to say that "Senior journalist and presenter Shekhar Gupta breathlessly introduced his guest last year as a "rock star of televangelism" who teaches "modern Islam" and "his own interpretation of all the faiths around the world."
Who makes that happen? Why are there no liberal Muslim intellectuals telling Mr Gupta what he doesn't know, because clearly, he doesn't?
I personally think that these incidents and contexts are the ones that must draw our attention and outrage. If Indian muslims cannot bring themselves to say 'no' to violence against homosexuals or Ahmadis, with what face can they say 'no' to violence against Kashmiri Sunnis, or Shias, or Sufis, or indeed just plain human beings?
The time for liberal muslims to speak up is not just when riots or blasts or crazy shootings happen. Nor just when some teenager gets arrested or shot dead without a fair trial. The time to speak up is primarily - and urgently - when idiots take your faith, twist it out of all recognition and then seek to control you through the voice your democratic state has allowed them. The time to speak up is before they shut you up permanently.
And it is time to say that anyone who preaches hatred does not deserve a public platform. Not Sadhvi Ritambhara. Not Babu Bajrangi. And not Dr Naik.
"At the time I was learning to memorise the Koran from a very kind, mild-mannered teacher.
I asked him what exactly was wrong with the Ahmadis.
He explained to me that they didn't believe that the Prophet Muhammad was the last and the final messenger.
I said OK, maybe that makes them kafirs, infidels, but who says that kafirs can't sell cloth?
My teacher's response was a full-handed slap, so sudden, so unexpected that it rang in my ears for days to come.
That same year Pakistan's first elected parliament declared Ahmadis non-Muslims."
In a must-read piece, Mohammed Hanif tells us about a "former chief minister of Punjab and current federal minister didn't attend his own mother's funeral because there were rumours that she was an Ahmadi."
If ordinary Muslims cannot find the courage to look within, to look at themselves and their own hatreds with clear eyes and not face up to their own endorsements of violence, they lose the moral right to seek protection from violence and discrimination.And this is not just about Pakistan. This is also about India. Because this is the madness on our side of the border:
"Dr. Naik recommends the death penalty for homosexuals and for apostasy from the faith, which he likens to wartime treason. He calls for India to be ruled by the medieval tenets of Shariah law. He supports a ban on the construction of non-Muslim places of worship in Muslim lands and the Taliban's bombing of the Bamiyan Buddhas. He says revealing clothes make Western women "more susceptible to rape." Not surprisingly, Dr. Naik believes that Jews "control America" and are the "strongest in enmity to Muslims."
"Of course, every faith has its share of cranks; and, arguably, India has more than its share. But it's impossible to relegate Dr. Naik to Indian Islam's fringe. Earlier this year, the Indian Express listed him as the country's 89th most powerful person, ahead of Nobel Laureate economist Amartya Sen, eminent lawyer and former attorney general Soli Sorabjee, and former Indian Premier League cricket commissioner Lalit Modi. Dr. Naik's satellite TV channel, Peace TV, claims a global viewership of up to 50 million people in 125 countries.
Somebody help! I've heard from a few 'moderate' or 'modern' Muslims that This Dr Naik fellow is worth watching, that they want to learn from him, preach like him, or emulate him. And of course, if you are a fundamentalist in a suit and tie... its kind of convenient, isn't it? Nobody thinks of you as a fundamentalist. And that's half your job done. Because nobody can dismiss you, then, the way you'd dismiss a loony with an AK-47, or a woman in a burqa and elbow-high gloves, who is so clearly far out, so clearly different from your life and your faith that you don't even feel the need to disassociate yourself from him/her.
The article goes on to say that "Senior journalist and presenter Shekhar Gupta breathlessly introduced his guest last year as a "rock star of televangelism" who teaches "modern Islam" and "his own interpretation of all the faiths around the world."
Who makes that happen? Why are there no liberal Muslim intellectuals telling Mr Gupta what he doesn't know, because clearly, he doesn't?
I personally think that these incidents and contexts are the ones that must draw our attention and outrage. If Indian muslims cannot bring themselves to say 'no' to violence against homosexuals or Ahmadis, with what face can they say 'no' to violence against Kashmiri Sunnis, or Shias, or Sufis, or indeed just plain human beings?
The time for liberal muslims to speak up is not just when riots or blasts or crazy shootings happen. Nor just when some teenager gets arrested or shot dead without a fair trial. The time to speak up is primarily - and urgently - when idiots take your faith, twist it out of all recognition and then seek to control you through the voice your democratic state has allowed them. The time to speak up is before they shut you up permanently.
And it is time to say that anyone who preaches hatred does not deserve a public platform. Not Sadhvi Ritambhara. Not Babu Bajrangi. And not Dr Naik.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
Morning, inbox, twitter feeds. Interesting bits:
What was the use now of the idea of Muslim specialness — the distinctiveness and separateness of Indian Muslims — in an independent, Muslim-majority country?
"Let’s get back to what happened that black Friday. I witnessed the Model Town carnage and can testify that there were three, maybe four, policemen in all who had been stationed there for many months. I saw them in their dhotis and slippers, smoking their hookahs, whenever I went to pray... Most of the security cover on the day of the attacks was comprised of unarmed volunteers from our own community. Friends and relatives who were outside tell me that the police and the Elite Force, on their arrival at the Model Town site, did not even attempt to go inside and showed signs of fear (last time I checked, weren’t all Elite Force jawans wearing shirts inscribed with ‘no fear’?). Seeing this, members of the community who were outside tried to convince them that they had to enter the premises: the clock was ticking and lives were at stake. On the law enforcers’ refusal, some Ahmadis tried to take their weapons so that at least they could go inside themselves and try to deal with the gunmen.
It was only after the worshippers inside had subdued two of the attackers that the law-enforcement personnel found the confidence to go in. The terrorists, by the way, had an easy passage of entry: they came through the cricket ground which is directly in front of what is called Bait-ul-Noor. Five gunmen. Fully armed. Two with suicide jackets." Rest here.
What was the use now of the idea of Muslim specialness — the distinctiveness and separateness of Indian Muslims — in an independent, Muslim-majority country?
"Let’s get back to what happened that black Friday. I witnessed the Model Town carnage and can testify that there were three, maybe four, policemen in all who had been stationed there for many months. I saw them in their dhotis and slippers, smoking their hookahs, whenever I went to pray... Most of the security cover on the day of the attacks was comprised of unarmed volunteers from our own community. Friends and relatives who were outside tell me that the police and the Elite Force, on their arrival at the Model Town site, did not even attempt to go inside and showed signs of fear (last time I checked, weren’t all Elite Force jawans wearing shirts inscribed with ‘no fear’?). Seeing this, members of the community who were outside tried to convince them that they had to enter the premises: the clock was ticking and lives were at stake. On the law enforcers’ refusal, some Ahmadis tried to take their weapons so that at least they could go inside themselves and try to deal with the gunmen.
It was only after the worshippers inside had subdued two of the attackers that the law-enforcement personnel found the confidence to go in. The terrorists, by the way, had an easy passage of entry: they came through the cricket ground which is directly in front of what is called Bait-ul-Noor. Five gunmen. Fully armed. Two with suicide jackets." Rest here.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Emergency causing emergency?
Who knows what one swift decision might lead to? I wonder if those who grant licenses to chemical industries can even picture the possibilities contained within those factories where hazardous chemical compounds are being manufactured. I know I couldn't have imagined it - boxes of inanimate matter leading to deaths and birth defects even at a generation's remove... and all it takes is a signature on a piece of paper. A license, a clearing of bureaucratic hurdles, a dismissal of all fears about pollution.
A paper - whether in triplicate or not - got signed. And then thousands and thousands of dead mutilated bodies.
Another signature must have led to the imposition of a national emergency. Which led to an overriding of all objections to every state decision - whether from rival politicians, or bureaucrats or the press or activists. Which led to the granting of a license. Which led to...
What exactly the Emergency had to do with the Bhopal tragedy has not been investigated but according to this press release, "on 1st January 1970, Union Carbide Company had applied for industrial license... The company did not get industrial license for more than 5 years. There must have been sufficient reason to withhold permission for industrial license. After the imposition of Emergency, the company was granted the license on till (sic) 31st October, 1975".
The release is up here . It makes a few other points about state culpability. It quotes Mohan P Tiwari, Chief Judicial Magistrate, Bhopal, whose statement says: “(z) It is worthwhile to mention here that the Government of India and the Team of Scientists admittedly was never permitted to visit the Plant at Verginia, (sic) USA. No brochure, or any other documentary evidence demonstrating the similarity between the two plants at Verginia and Bhopal has been produced before the court by the defence."
I personally think the victims of 1984 would be perfectly justified in suing the state of Madhya Pradesh and the Government of India. Dow, Union Carbide, Anderson, and the local managers are all guilty and should be punished. But so is the state - for not inspecting the factory and insisting on better safety measures, for not insisting that their scientists be allowed to visit the American plant if they felt it was necessary before granting a license, and for not investigating this whole business of who cleared the project in 1975 and who renewed that license in 1982.
A paper - whether in triplicate or not - got signed. And then thousands and thousands of dead mutilated bodies.
Another signature must have led to the imposition of a national emergency. Which led to an overriding of all objections to every state decision - whether from rival politicians, or bureaucrats or the press or activists. Which led to the granting of a license. Which led to...
What exactly the Emergency had to do with the Bhopal tragedy has not been investigated but according to this press release, "on 1st January 1970, Union Carbide Company had applied for industrial license... The company did not get industrial license for more than 5 years. There must have been sufficient reason to withhold permission for industrial license. After the imposition of Emergency, the company was granted the license on till (sic) 31st October, 1975".
The release is up here . It makes a few other points about state culpability. It quotes Mohan P Tiwari, Chief Judicial Magistrate, Bhopal, whose statement says: “(z) It is worthwhile to mention here that the Government of India and the Team of Scientists admittedly was never permitted to visit the Plant at Verginia, (sic) USA. No brochure, or any other documentary evidence demonstrating the similarity between the two plants at Verginia and Bhopal has been produced before the court by the defence."
I personally think the victims of 1984 would be perfectly justified in suing the state of Madhya Pradesh and the Government of India. Dow, Union Carbide, Anderson, and the local managers are all guilty and should be punished. But so is the state - for not inspecting the factory and insisting on better safety measures, for not insisting that their scientists be allowed to visit the American plant if they felt it was necessary before granting a license, and for not investigating this whole business of who cleared the project in 1975 and who renewed that license in 1982.
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