The Left Front

Going through the latest article of Frontline, indeed the recent few months of Frontline beginning with "The March of Neoliberalism" (March 28, 2008) have been very enlightening on the topic of the agrarian crisis that the country is currently facing and the recent I - word (inflation) that everyone seems to be talking about.
To put it in layman terms, ever since the greatly hyped globalisation and liberalisation of the economy in 1991, all the governments, whether they were Narasimha Rao and Manmohan Singh, or A.B. Vajpayee and Yashwant Sinha, or Manmohan Singh and P. Chidambaram, all of these governments have faithfully implemented a neoliberalist agenda that has been spelt out by the WTO and indirectly the U.S.
Hmph. So much for sovereignty.
The policies have been largely aiming at driving the domestic agriculture into extinction and ushering in the new era of MNCs and corporates. All very good, but the problems that follow along with them are considerable. Shortly, not only does a large part of our economy fall into a few hands that are immensely powerful and near autonomous- and that too something as vital as agriculture - the majority of these hands are imperialist hands.
And I think you will agree with me when I say that this is something that can never, ever be allowed. Thus, take a close look at how our rural farmers have been either killing themselves off, or being killed due to hunger, or simply moving away from agriculture as a whole. Public assistance has been increasingly denied, and the new policies that are being formulated such as the Essential Commodities Act are wolves in sheeps clothing that allow further exploitation. Naturally, production takes a beating, and in steps the corporate, ready with his deep pockets and "marketing strategies", exuding the assurance of salvation.. or so it seems.

Anyway, so while the Congress has been relentless pursuing its agenda of neoliberalism, and making great changes to India's foreign policy and licking American buttholes clean (whatever happened to the days of Nehruvian Non-Alignment?), cringing and cribbing for the nuclear deal to go through (something I am dead against) and basically taking all they can from the poor aam aadmi, the BJP as usual has stuck by its guns of extreme Right-Wing politics, fighting for the Sangh Parivar ideology of Hindutva, and basically ensuring that the status quo of upper caste hegemony (domination by consent) remains untouched and unchanged, and the Muslims and Christians and other minorities will remain as punching bags for them to use at leisure when in needs of votes. Their policies have still to emerge from the emotional into the rational, and that is something that India cannot have right now; we need action.
Into this political quagmire comes one alliance (its the age of coalition politics after all) that seems to offer a glimmer of hope.
When in my first year of mass media (im about to go into third year now.. God Damn it I feel OLD!) I was quite unaware of terms such as manipulating public opinion, and behavioural control, and still believed in things such as freedom of speech. Exposure, research and insight have bitterly changed my opinions, though my ideals remain thankfully untarnished... I still have hope.
So what I'm getting at is how the media has been utilised by the Powerful Ones (U.S, U.K, the whole gang) to forward their agendas and policies by trying to manipulate public opinion in their favor. Remember when the Left first opposed the Indo-U.S nuclear deal? The next day the Times of India slammed the Left, saying things like "the public has spoken.. we have recieved thousands of mails and sms and whatnot saying that they are sick of "regressive" and "backward" parties like the Left.. we have a power crisis on our hands and the nuclear deal is the only way out.." Things like those.
I was brainwashed, and falling into the spell of the media, thought "oh these goddamn comrades. All they do is jump about and protest for no reason. Why do they are so unhappy about everything?"
However, I realised over the following days that very few papers had given the Left's opinion as to why they were protesting against the U.S nuclear deal. HT, TOI, DNA, and all other papers that were part of media conglomerates vociferously argued in favor of the deal, and their papers were full of either power shortages faced by the country (hint hint) or atrocities committed by the CPI (M) in West Bengal and Nandigram and wherever else. A few papers like Indian Express, Free Press Journal, Asian Age gave voice to both sides of the issue, but they were woefully few. Further study gave me the knowledge that in fact it was the powers that wanted the deal to go through that used the media as a weapon to push public opinion in their favor and against their opponents.
I have been increasingly following the policies and strategems proposed by the Left Front, whether it is regarding agrarian crisis, or inflation, or unemployment or illiteracy or casteism, and cannot help but admiring the pragmatism they display, and how they go about things without any fanfare whatsoever.
The three states currently under Left Rule are West Bengal, Kerala and Tripura. With the exception of Tripura, which isn't doing too badly either, West Bengal and Kerala have progressed outstandingly, in economic, social and cultural terms. Bengal has always been a communist hub, but has also produced India's greatest minds and continues to do so owing to its excellent public facilities. Same for Kerala, which has been under Communist rule from 1957 under the leadership of the great E.M.S Namboodiripad and has the distinction of having complete literacy and doing very well on the economic front.
Some of the policies the Left is striving for are very much the need of the hour. The old days of capitalism vs communism are almost gone, and the Left is very much for privatisation and liberalisation, but they are staunchly anti-imperialist and anti neo liberalist, and on that at least I support them completely.
The Left is planning on making a coalition and contesting at the national level seriously, and I hope that they put up a strong case for themselves. They'll have my vote for sure.

A Romance Ends

Epic.
It's been the end of a long journey, a long romance that had many twists and turns and surprises and highs and lows and joys and sorrows. Yet, at the end of the three volume, six novel, 4,000 page long journey through Ashok Banker's retelling of the Ramayana, the only emotions I feel are awe, and unease.
Awe.
Why? For the simple reason that this retelling of the Ramayana is nothing less than an epic work of art, with every letter, every syllable, every word, every metaphor, every description showing the boundless, boundless love that Banker has imbibed into his creation. Like the sages of lore, who would go into trances that would last for years on end, lost in the rhythm of their lord's name on their lips, or legendary artists like Tulsidas, who felt God in every incomparable raag they uttered, or other singers and painters and sculptors and writers whom we have seen through the ages, who go into trances, unaware of anything around them, and awaken to see a masterpiece created. That is the league of which Banker is rightly a member, for his work of the Ramayana is a testament to his devotion, to his pure love expressed through the magnificent prose contained in the series. Right from the moment I opened the first page of the first book, it was as if a hand grabbed me and took me right into the world of Ayodhya and Chitrakut and Panchvati and the Bhayanak Van and Lanka and many, many other places and adventures, standing right beside Rama and Lakshmana watching them carry out their epic feats.
Unease.
A simple enough emotion to feel, in view of the rather disturbing ending of the book, and the hunger for more. A hunger that will soon be satiated, i wager, as he is currently working on the Mahabharata!

While reading the series, I came across a number of surprising facts:
1. That Maruti, that all-too-popular car we know of, is actually another name of Hanuman's?
2. That Vajradanti, of the "Vicco Vajrandanti" fame is the name of Ravana's Commander in Chief who had brilliant, indestructable teeth?
3. That Akshay Kumar was actually Ravana's youngest son who was famed for his skill in the martial arts?
4. That 'arth' originally meant wealth, instead of truth as it means today, for the ancients believed truth to be the greatest wealth?

There are also a great deal of references to pop culture and contemporary politics, which are amusing.

Overall, despite the rather jarring end, Ashok Banker's Ramayana is an absolute must-read, for if you want to know your culture, if you want to see your sanskriti glorified in a way that will make you stand straighter the next time the national anthem is played, and if you want to truly discover India's second greatest literary epic without the hackles of learning Sanskrit, then do not look further.

Thank you, Mr.Banker.

The Embrace and the Renunciation

Saw the movie Khuda Kay Liye a few days back, and for all those Muslims out there, you absolutely have to watch this movie, for it deals with some very critical issues that young Muslims of today are facing. And for all those non-Muslims out there, you absolutely have to watch this movie just because its a really cool movie! The background score especially will ensure that you traumatise your family members singing it from the temporary invulnerability of your bathrooms early morning. The first Pakistani movie I've seen, and while lacking on many fronts, it is nonetheless a must watch.
The movie sent me on a trip down memory lane. There is a character, an educated well to do ordinary urban muslim who is brainwashed by this charismatic cleric who tells him that singing, dancing, painting, laughing loudly, etc is haraam.
This brought back vivid memories of my days back in the Tableeghi Jamaat, or 'TJs' as they are referred to. A 'reformist' group that dominated the colony where i stay, Millat Nagar in Lokhandwala, the Tableeghi Jamaat follows a rigid interpretation of Islam, that believes the following to be haraam:
Singing
Dancing
Painting
Music
TV
Radio
Earrings/Jewelry for Males
Clothing below the ankles
Photography
3-D Animation
Direction
Acting
Looking at non-related women (na mehram, as they say in Urdu)
Shaving
Women working

The list can go on for quite some time, but I think you get the gist. The Tableeghi's follow a very orthodox and outright regressive interpretation of Islam, and about a year ago, I was very involved in their movement. Life was very turbulent back then, and I began mingling with them to see what they were all about, as I seemed to get some measure of peace for my very troubled soul from the prayers and the talks on Islam. Initially it was good, and the Tableeghis have this system wherein they spend a specific amount of time in a mosque (3 days, 40 or four months; take your pick) and spend their time living it up the Islamic way, praying and studying the Koran. Also, they have certain pre-established contacts with whom they go about preaching to the nearby Muslims and requesting them to come and pray.
It's a lot of fun really, as they take you to some cool places, you prepare your own food, and get to meet a lot of interesting people. Also, for the youth its better because it can be a lot of fun. My very first Jamaat, we were in a mosque that was bordered by a graveyard and a madrassa, and had an air conditioned prayer hall and a decent collection of literature.
However, over time I began to see just how suffocating and downright ridiculous their beliefs were. One of them actually had the nerve to tell me to give up journalism as it involved photography! There were no shortage of people using all kinds of methods to get me to change: remove my earrings, grow a beard, wear kurta-pyjama only, and so on.
Their methods too were ingenious. Their average target would be the loitering Muslim teenager, whom they would persuade/cajole/entice into coming, and once in their grasp would begin the sermons on hell fire and brimstone, and the tortures that would await those who dared transgress the Sacred Word of Allah, who dared even question (YOU DARE?!) the authority of the Last and Absolutely True Word sent down through his Prophet (SAW). Thus, the poor youth would slowly become increasingly brainwashed and would be thoroughly intimidated, their constant fear of being roasted on a fire 70000"C hot, being bitten by giant venomous snakes, having molten glass poured into their ears, having their faces ripped off and other unpleasant punishments being constant reminders of them to toe the line and grow beards and break their TV sets and so on.
Thus, frustrated beyond belief at Islam, the Muslim Community and the Tableeghi's, I left the Tableeghi Jamaat for ever.
Now, I know that Islam and the Community as a whole is not at fault; the Tableeghis are masters of manteeq, or logic, and twist to suit their own purposes and bring to them the ultimate thing that all beings desire: power.
If need be, Islam can be portrayed as a great religion, which it is, and even though my views on Islam are not conventional, it can still be handled with a lot more sense than prevails, and for this reason I recommend Khuda Kay Liye as it deals with some of these issues.

Network 18

Its 6:00 in the morning, and this makes it a complete 24 hours since I have last slept. What did I do the whole night? Spent it shooting at network 18! Above is a little trailer as to the fruits of my efforts. The final video will be edited on Croma and will be put up on buzz18.com. Links will be provided, PLEASE check it out when its done, I'd really appreciate it.

Apart from that, man was that office fabulous or what! Taking deep pockets to a whole new level, the office was virtually a techno-maniac's paradise. Computers abounded everywhere, in the most unexpected of places, and they had all the latest gaming equipment, even the Nintendo Wii. Oh, did I burn when I came to know that they had to gamers there who just had to game all day and review them and they actually got paid good money for it!
Ah, capitalism can be very nice at times.
What started out as a day that I dreaded and detested turned out to be a night to remember. I don't think i'll forget that office with its warm employees (we had a pizza for dinner), excellent work atmosphere and immensely enjoyable work schedule anytime soon.

Metanoias

Just back from my whirlwind tour of Nanded - Mangalore - Goa and feeling absolutely great to be back in Mumbai, though knowing myself, i'll be stifled with the place pretty soon and be clamoring to travel again. What can i say - cities bore me.
Without going into details of the trip, let me just say that it was an amazing experience, in fact all my trips seems to keep getting better and better! Did a whole lot of crazy and wacky things (planning to write a little book about it) but basically came back enriched with many, many insights.

Metanoia - a word of greek origin that is little used in today's time. It means a shift of mind. And this trip did really give me a few shifts of mind, beginning with totally changing my perspective about India as a whole. I can't help it, i love this damn country a little too much for my own good, and my urban upbringing had so far blinded me to the truths of just how different, just how removed and far from our popular perception is the world of rural and small-town India. Believe me, staying in cities, especially a one as Mayatic as Mumbai, one can very easily fall into the illusion that YES, India is developing, YES, Starbucks and Gas and Tommy are about a stone's throw from my house, YES, my son listens to the latest gangster rap, wears the latest (and most absurdly expensive) branded clothes, speaks the best english amongst his peers and his hence popular, YES, things such as poverty and unemployment have always been there in human society, but so what? those damn newsmen love to crib, and finally, YES, India has come a long way, and it won't be too long before we're granted Superpower status along with a seat in the U.N veto council. Big Six, huh?
Big NO.

Thanks to the government for putting up such a good show are obligatory; that's their job after all, to show that all is well. Whom i'd really like to hand it to for putting up such a fantastic glamour laden depiction of India is the media. Being a media student myself i know full well just how absolutely rotten this industry is. Oh yes, politically correct goes out the window mates, this whole industry is ABSOLUTELY ROTTEN. Cheaper than Kamatipura whores, mediamen and women are ready to sell their souls to increase their sales, and believe me, what they don't want is a thinking, criticizing audience, what they want is someone who'll either be star struck by the Karan Johar style movies that bollywood is reknown for, or be equally brain dead with K - serials. What the media (under the sagacious nod of Big Grandpa Government) wants is middle aged men to pore over the pictures of skimpily clad women in Mid Day, to read about leaking pipes and arrested porn actress in Mumbai mirror and to read about the latest cricketing headlines on the front pages of TOI. What they definitely don't want is people reading newspapers like The Indian Express (I'm an absolute loyalist of this paper - you want news, proper, hard core news, not the crap we get, read this paper. It'll open your eyes, and open your mind a little too) and asking why? where does our hard earned money go? surely not into THIS india!

Well, my recent forays into the the Three Cities left me with a great deal to think about. It served as a wake up call to the realities that Indian farmers face, that the Indian rural folk face, at the myriad of social and economic problems that we have left to deal with, at the many, many, many things that are so terribly wrong with this country. But make no doubt, of all the sins we can commit, of all the wrongs that we are apt to do, the one that we can never, ever allow ourselves is the sin of ignorance. Understand that India is NOT shining; the urban cities are, and that too not very brightly. Understand that we are a long way off from being a superpower; we lack the basic foundations to stand upon. Understand that it is about time to stop blaming and start doing; change begins with you, and you can bring change wherever you are, but only if you choose to do so.

India, India, India. Why do I love you so?

Jai Hind!

The other night I had a strange dream.

I dreamt that I was travelling in the first class compartment of one of Mumbai's famous local trains, and while traveling, a most strange incident took place. I was near the coach exit, where all the standees are, and one of the commuters, a normal looking man - about 40ish, dressed in crisp formals and holding a copy of The Economic Times - sneezed. When he sneezed, his eyes fell out. He looked up, where his eyes formally held attention there were now two pitch dark sockets. The man started laughing, hysterically, laughing so loudly that his laughter rang throughout the train, cutting effortlessly through the chatter and the ambient noise, going on and on until there was an unnatural hush. I was coming to grips with what was happening when from right behind me, a second man broke into hysterics, jerking his shoulders in all directions as if he were having a fit. He wore dark sunglasses, and took them off with a flourish, to show another pair of empty, staring eye sockets. All around, faces began turning to show people without eyes, people with stares that seemed to come from nowhere, the laughter catching on till the whole compartment shook with laughter; men, women, even a child shrieking with glee, his empty eye sockets staring skywards. I had to look away from the madness, and looked out the sides and saw the train lit up by an amber glow, the absence of any surroundings - the train was going through a void!
That's when this inexplicable feeling hit me that I was travelling on a train that was destined to be traveling forever.. And that's when I mercifully woke up.

Prejudice

The above person is me.
Me, dressed as a - you guessed it - a terrorist. The location is late night at Girgaon. In my right hand I hold a gun, and in my left hand I hold a sword. The whole thing was a set up for my upcoming photography project. The sword which I hold in my left hand is the centre of all my attention, and the cause of the upcoming adventure.
The day was 6th February 2008, one day before photography submission, and the setting was entirely different. I was at my friend Armin Jamula's place, and with me were Suyash Barve, her boyfriend, and Raoul Lobo, my Catholic partner in crime, who was there to assist me with my photographs, just as I was there to assist him in his. Now we had just finished shooting a rather interesting shot which had Raoul dressed solely in leaves, and we had to move on to the next one. The shot was based on the concept of the sword of Damocles, and I happened to have a real sword right there, at Armin's house. The concept was supposed to be a sword dangling by a string over a person's head, with the person's expression one of fury. I wanted a woody location, one that would signify contemplation and tapasya.
I was dressed in a kurta from the previous shot, and Raoul was in civilian clothes, so we just hopped out of Armin's house to look for a garden or some such location, where we could shoot peacefully. I had the sword in my hand wrapped in pink ribbon for the string, and in my other hand was the Indian flag, a prop for a different photograph. I tried not to think of how I must be looking, dressed in a kurta pyjama and a sword, and just stepped out of Armin's house and was about to go looking for a suitable shot with Raoul in tow.
About ten seconds later, we saw a police van stationed. One of the policemen stopped us and asked us what we were doing. I told him that we were Wilson students out for a photography shoot, we had a camera to prove it. The policemen were adamant, however, that we accompany them to the police station, where they would 'quickly verify the origin of the sword' and let us free. I had left my cell phone at home, and as Raoul wasn't allowed to make calls.
Thus we went, on toward the Nagpada police station in a police van, and the cops kept asking questions about where we were from, what college we were in, why we were in possession of a real sword, and so on. We got off at the police station, and were taken straight to the detention area. There the torture began.
About five straight of non stop questioning, abuses, hate, mental anguish began. Their questions and pokes were primarily directed at me, and I could understand what kind of target I presented to these fat, frustrated policemen - A muslim teenager with a sword. They didn't care about the fact that I was well educated, that I came from a good family, that I studied in one of Bombay's best colleges, that I had all the evidence to show that I was out doing nothing more than a photography project, that I had people high up who could vouch for my authenticity - no, all they cared about was that my name was Abdul and that I was a Muslim who lived in Millat Nagar.
"All you Muslims are like this! That area you live in is full of killers! Mother fucker! Have you no sense!" were just some of the flowery sentences that I was showered with. They hardly spoke to Raoul, asking him just the necessary questions.
My saviour was Armin Jamula's mom, an incredible lady to whom I shall be thankful forever. Suyash and Armin were there too, and without their support I shudder to think of my condition. They called the coordinator of my college to confirm that I was doing a project, and the whole drama finally ended when at last, having pored over the constitution with a microscope, they were indeed satisfied that I had broken no law and had spared them the satisfaction of watching of laying their hands on one more Muslim.
There are so many events that happened in those five hours in the police station.. This poor bastard of a mobile thief, his one eye swollen shut, his lips bleeding and his heels probably broken getting thrashed before our very eyes, the other thief brought in and handcuffed to the bars of the lock up, the supercop ACP, who seemed to be a man of iron, slim, tough, and intimidating, so different from the fat, ugly, balding cops we were surrounded with.
I was thinking of the image me and Raoul gave to the cops - a Muslim with a sword with a possible Bhaiyya in tow - refer to mine and Raoul's picture at the bottom of this to know why he would look as a Bhaiyya! And the best part was, all this happened during the MNS tension, when riots were happening left, right and centre in that area.
The aftermath of the whole incident was that the sword was kept in police custody, me and Raoul's bond went through the trial of fire, and I realized who my true friends were, who would be the ones to really stand by me. And suprisingly enough, I still respect and admire cops as much as I always did, it's just that now, for the first time, I understand why people say that the law is blind.