The people who believe in nothing... the India of today...

 

Chanakya once said "A person should not be too honest. Straight trees are cut first and honest people are screwed first". It is surprising that even 2500 years later, we still remember this and live and die by this maxim. Today, truly, we are a people who believe in nothing...

Here are some things to ponder on -

1. We join rallies and protests against corruption and bring a whole city to a standstill, but think nothing of bribing to hasten or enable a simple process - like getting a license, avoiding a ticket, etc. There is an interesting report that I was browing through... Have a look... http://trak.in/tags/business/2009/06/30/india-corruption-bribery-report/
2. We go to candle lit vigil in honor of a young rape victim in the capital - and then think nothing of teasing and heckling women on our way back
3. We debate on the politicization of religion, caste, and community - but make sure that we vote along the same lines
4. We complain about the un-neighbourly acts of our neighbour in the West, while we happily beat up monks from our Southern neighbour - and gang up against them for things that we proudly justify doing ourselves
5. We worship Women dieties in all forms, but have very little respect for women in our daily lives
6. We profess that 'Guests are Gods'... while taking any opportunity to rob, rape and cheat every foreigner who hits our shores
7. We claim a rich heritage of tolerance, yet ban people from saying what they feel, or exhibiting anything that any group, community, religion, or sect, has any kind of objection to
8. We go on and on about equality, while we have devised all different kinds of rules and regulations for each denomination of society based on caste, creed, and religion... so, what is OK for one citizen, is not for another...

I could go on and on... but the sad reality today is that we, as a people, have imbibed Chanakya's teachings to such an extent today that there is nothing that we stand for, other than the 'art of the possible'...

When I was growing up, still fired up with the ideals that seemed so real, as yet untarnished by the ironies of life, I thought that a person always stands for something - atleast most people do. I may not agree to what he stands for, may not believe in the same things, but we could still respect each others views and still co-exist.

It was much later... that I came to the conclusion that the reality is very different. Most of us, in India, actually believe in nothing and do not stand for anything at all.

I think that it is precisely in this kind of environment that creativity suffers, corruption thrives, and our lives, as a whole, become less enjoyable...

If we really are to create an 'Incredible India', or 'Shining India' (terms not mine!), we have to take a step back and decide what we really stand for, believe in, and are willing to die for... Otherwise, we will continue to be a poor caricature of the West, and a bleak shadow of what we once were...

JAI HIND!

Reliving the past.... a few days in Calcutta...

Though I keep visiting the city for work, I visited my home city (Calcutta) for a vacation after a long time with my family (sadly Princess Aurora, my Rottie was in a pet hostel for the period) - and the overwhelming feeling that I had during this period was one of sadness... I am not sure if the feeling was one of regret, possibly not - but definitely a profound sadness for all those moments which are gone, never to return. Here are some of the thoughts that filled my senses during this week...

The moments with my father... talking, walking, or just in silence during the long period of his illness. His calling out to me, when he could not walk any more. His waiting up for me and restlessly walking up and down the street in front of our house when I was back late from college. His silent pride when I scored high in the JEE; his disappointment when he realized that I did not inherit the religious bent of the family, did not bother about rituals, and stayed away from temples... his apprehension that I would never fulfill my religious duties as a son after he passed away...

Rushing out in the early evening to play in the fields (at that time Calcutta still had some open spaces left) - usually Soccer (which I was not good at), and sometimes Cricket (in which I could manage).  Trying to dodge my tutor who invariably chose that time to make an appearance and sometimes succeeding in stopping me and diverting my attention to Maths, Physics or Chemistry... Sometimes going for long walks with my friend Babu, or playing cricket in the gully with a set of kids in the locality...

The hectic days of the Durga Puja when the entire family got together to celebrate - particularly the time when we stayed in Bhubneshwar and came to Calcutta once a year duirng this time. Going with my kaka (uncle) to the Bazaar to get fish and vegetables, stopping by on the shop in Fern Road for some sweets for the offerings in the Pandal, diving into my Boropishi's (aunt) bag to see what goodies she had for us, eating our dinner standing up on the Verendah windows to watch the immersion procession on Dashami. The fading impression of my Granddad in the Puja room, my Chhotokaka (youngest uncle) who was specially fond of Comic books and died young at the age of 32...

Walking on the roads during the Kal Baisakhi - the seasonal storm which used to hit us in the month of April with unusual ferocity, specially in the evenings - alone... daring the storms to do its worst... revelling at the sudden flashes of lighting that lit up the entire locality once the electricity went out in the first few moments... returning home drenched to the usual admonishments of my irate Mother, who never tired of telling us to stay indoors during this time...

The first stirrings of adolescent emotions... initally tentative... sometimes powerful...The silent pinings of first love(s) (or infatuations)... Waiting through the day for a few moments with the object of your frustration or desire, the usual poetry so typical of the lovelorn Bengali teenager.... the awkward struggle that is so much a part of your growing up years... mixed up feelings that leave you befuddled and grappling for a way out of confusion...

The pure unadulterated joy of achieving anything, however small, in life, the first few seeds of confidence in yourself that so typically grows in you as you grow up... as you become YOU...

Calcutta means all that to me.... and more.... a place which is the sacred treasure house of innumerable feelings that I have felt, thoughts that I have thought, and ideas that I have accumulated. I still love the City - but it is a different kind of love - not the tempestuous first love of an adolescent, nor the passionate love of a young adult... it has somehow matured into more of a long loved companion who is always there for you when you choose the return... always holding you in her embrace, and never demanding anything in return...