Varanasi

 The time of life when you read a book is important how it impacts you. One could vividly recollect books read in one's youth, than the ones that were read in later life, while juggling with life's many challenges.  M T Vasudevan Nair, the Jnanpeeth award winning novelist from Kerala, is one writer I grew up with.  If the earlier books had alienation of youth of an era, in his later books his craft took several leaps of improvement and the themes became diverse. The lonely, silent and brooding youth from Malabar, fighting the demons of his past, crudely and selfishly honest is the protagonist in many of his earlier books. MT went on to write movie scripts, travelogues, unconventional take on mythologies etc. There was dark rain, green verdant environs, old tiled households (tharavad) with fences of bamboo thorns in his books. There is always the river, Nila or Bharatapuzha that silently flows through many books, often at its' raging best in monsoon. 

I could easily identify myself with the the male protagonist in his books although they are from a different era. MT is about 30 years older to me, we both grew under the same slice of Malabar sky, he studied in my college many years earlier and....the river and rains so evocatively brought out in his books were always a part of my lonely, lost adolescence. Nothing much had changed during the lost decades of 50s, 60s and 70s.

Just when I smugly thought that I had finished reading all the stuff that MT has written, I discovered that I haven't read Varanasi, one of his later works. Seldom have I sat through a book and read it in one sitting. The protagonist, Sudhakaran, like many M T characters, goes away from his village, leaving behind a distraught girl. A loner, he went on to make a living and was almost ensnared into a marriage with the daughter (who claimed that he has impregnated her) of a man who mentors him in Bombay. Again he makes a dash for freedom and ends up in Bangalore, many cities in Tamilnadu, Paris and returns to Varanasi, alienated from his parents, siblings and his roots. 

    Varanasi evokes mixed feelings in him. He meets Ramlal, the scion of a family that is in charge of the fire that kept burning from the time of Harishchandra. He tries to meet Srinivasan, another mentor from academics, but he had passed away, leaving behind Rukmini akka, the widow who lived with him and cared for him. There is a procession of lonely men & women, struggling with existence, Om Prakash, Chandramouli, Sumita Nagpal, Ramakrishnan and others who played bit roles in the theatre that is life.  He had made a trip a one year trip to France where  his paths cross again with Madeleine and has a boy  named Hari from her. She moves to US with Hari. 

  There he is, alone, with emptiness in life, no heirs to acknowledge him ... although he is the father of two kids. He dips into river Ganga and does the pindam ritual (seeking salvation to dead souls of near and dear ones).... After several dips he wants to know whether he can do it for his own self. The priest confirms that there is something called Aatma pindam. He goes on to performs the rituals for his own soul. It is a beautifully written novel.. traversing across time, space and generations

   

Blasphemy

The oldest known case of Blasphemy in the Indian sub-continent is the publication of Rangeela Rasool(1924), a satirical work which contained references to the colourful life of Prophet Mohammed. Apparently, this was in response to a pamphlet (Sita ka Chinala) that depicts Sita, the Hindu God Lord Ram’s wife as a prostitute. The publication of Rangeela Rasool was done anonymously, without reference to the author (Pandit Chamupati) or the publisher (Rajpal & sons). The publisher of the Rangeela Rasool, ended up being killed by a carpenter from Lahore. The aforesaid carpenter was punished with the death sentence, but his grave is worshipped by believers. Full length movies have been made in Pakistan, which depict him as a Ghazi (warrior of the faith) 

  The origins of blasphemy laws could be traced to one of the Ten commandments which exhorts that “Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain”. Blasphemy laws which were in the statutes of many western democracies have been abolished- some as late as in 2019. Free speech obviously trumps over the need to punish rants and other forms of active disrespect to Gods. In the early days, the very denial of existence of God entailed burning dis-believers at the stake. All established religions have unleashed a wave of violence, killings, maiming and burning of books. Some of the great libraries containing treasure trove of knowledge of ancient Alexandria, Constantinople and Nalanda were burned by the faithful. The burning of churches in Pakistan is said to be in retaliation to burning of Quran in Sweden. Is blasphemy law consistent with 21^st century values?

    Presently blasphemy laws exist mostly in the Middle East Asian and African nations. Countries like Singapore have it in their statutes only to prevent disruptions in their fine-tuned social order. Indian laws on blasphemy are said to have originated after the Rangeela Rasool case. While blasphemy and associated punishments originated in Christianity, they are embedded as laws in Islamic nations like Pakistan and enforced by enraged crowds. In the Indian state of Kerala, which has a substantial Muslim population, worrying incidents have taken place; like the hacking of limbs of a college professor for preparing a question paper (allegedly containing adverse references to Prophet Muhammed) and the enforced disappearance of Chekannur Maulvi, an Islamic cleric who, according to the establishment Islamists, was preaching a deviant form of Islam.  

   A right to blaspheme would be a good idea and it would be consistent with present day values. Some Scandinavian/European nations already have it. And that’s how a cartoon here or a Quran burning there raises the temperatures elsewhere and threaten to spoil international relations. In a country like India, where there is so much diversity and majoritarianism growing, penal provisions for blasphemy acts as a spark that could light large fires. Proselytization and conversion start with highlighting limitations or irrationality in rival religions. If every such speech or utterance is considered blasphemous enough to rouse crowd-rage, the whole thing could metamorphose into something beyond control. Qatar insisted that India apologise for the utterances about Prophet Muhammed by BJP spokesperson Nupur Sharma in a TV show, while Qatar had, many years ago, given refuge to M F Hussain, after rabid Hindu crowds wanted his scalp for depicting Hindu Goddesses in the nude. 

      Would it not be a good idea to banish signs of religion from public spaces, like textbooks, offices, assemblies, rallies etc? Since such displays could create fissures in society, as it did in Nuh recently, it makes immense sense to do so. Anyone who takes up arms or indulges in violence in retribution could be sent to re-education camps, much like the ones in Xin jiang province in China, where according to western sources, at some point of time, at least one million citizens were incarcerated and taught to live as good citizens. Much as it would help national unity etc, it may not be practical since most political parties encash on religion as their vote bank. 

A Death in Denmark

   The author is young. She peers out of the photograph, bare arms, tattoo on wrist and a closely cropped, punk haircut. It left one imagining more tattoos and rings in unmentionable parts of her body. She is Indian, has Danish citizenship and lives in the US. 
 
      Amulya Malladi has written a most enjoyable book called “A Death in Denmark”. I loved the protagonist Gabriel Praest. (the ‘a’ in Praest merges with the ‘e’ and I can’t bring about that magic on my keyboard.) So, I shall stick to the name Gabriel. The story revolves around death of a rightist politician. An immigrant from Iraq is accused of the murder. Gabriel, an ex-cop, presently a private investigator, was hounded out of police service for launching an unauthorized investigation into corruption by a politician. He also plays the guitar in the evenings at assorted watering holes in Denmark. He has a grown-up daughter. His ex-partner’s husband is a lawyer. Gabriel, who shares a functional relationship with his ex, has his digs at her husband’s office. He is also wealthy, dresses well, is perennially upgrading his house, has a taste for exquisite wine, reads/ quotes philosophy (Kierkegaard/Nietzsche/ Sartre) and rides a bicycle to work.
 
    Well, I liked the guy. Half the battle is won when you’ve created a very likable detective/ private investigator/ amateur cop. And if there is subtle humour, easy readability and the bad guys are caught in the end, (I hate uncertain endings, in books or movies) then you have a winning formula.
 
The story begins with the World War II, when Gestapo rounds up Jewish refugees and merciless kill the family, including two children,  that hides them. There was apparently a highly placed Danish mole, a collaborator who gives up the location of Jewish refugees. Many years later, the entire affair is caught up in the politics and business of the day. Sanne Melgaard, the woman politician had been busy investigating the identity of the mole and her research gets her into uncomfortable places. The immigrant Yousuf Ahmed is framed for her murder. Gabriel is pushed into the case by his ex-lover Leila, who believes that Yousuf is innocent. Dead bodies turn up and several brazen threats are made to dissuade Gabriel from digging further into the case. 
Along the way, Gabriel has the help of his good friends from college and the Police chief Tommy himself. Finally, his investigation reaches to those right at the top of Danish politics.
  
This is a fast read and I am already looking forward to the next book in the series. However, there is underlying elitism in the food  they eat, clothes they wear etc and I am not sure that Private investigators have a rich lifestyle even in the developed world. Anyway, it is soothing to read of lives of privilege, than those trying to make ends meet.

 

Pakistan Watcher

The Pakistan High Commission in Chanakyapuri , New Delhi falls on my route for daily morning walk. I take a turn near the Nehru Park, where the rich and mighty park their huge cars and the Mem-saabs and Saabs are out for their daily constitutional. The path opposite to Nehru park abuts the back gate of Pakistan High Commission. That is where the visa seekers queue up early in the morning. They are mostly a ragged lot. Each hiding a story of tragedy and separation of bloodlines…A few men with ancient typewriters and make-shift tables and chairs sit on the sidewalk and assist visa seekers, maybe to  type and fill forms in Urdu. The queues are small but I can see that it involves long waiting times. I cheekily tell the missus, the rate at which those in India are told to go to Pakistan, we just might be queueing up some day here. A little way down is the US Embassy. A different lot are waiting their turn on the street. Mostly students accompanied by parents, both middle class and upper class.

             When a bunch of well armed citizens from Pakistan reached Mumbai and shot down 166 odd people who were just about going about their daily business, most Indians stopped entertaining kind thoughts about that country. It made a stronger impression than the fateful day that they attacked the Indian Parliament and killed our policemen. During the Kargil War, many soldiers of Pakistan’s Northern Light Infantry lost their lives. The bodies were not taken back by Pakistan and they pretended that these dead bodies are of anonymous Mujahideen and did not belong to Pakistan. A country that disowns its own, fell in my eyes. 

 

     I have been reading Dawn, a prominent Pakistani newspaper, for a good 26 years. One can’t help feeling that while Indian media has become very polarized and commercialized, Dawn has maintained a certain degree of quality and editorial integrity. In recent times I’ve started listening to a few Pakistani vloggers who are unabashed critics of their Army and politicians. Nowadays I am looking forward to my daily dose of entertainment from that hapless country. 

I had a few good friends from the Pakistan Administrative service (or the DMG as it was called) 14 years back, during my stint in Australia. I always wondered how very much like mainstream Indians, the UP/Bihar/Haryana/Punjab types, they are. They were good friends, intelligent and great company. Over the years, I’ve tried to be in touch with at least one of them, who was closest to me. But I realized that an Officer in service would have much to answer for if they continue to be in touch with Indians. Whereas I, despite belonging to the Indian Ministry of Defence, had nothing much to worry. And I thought that’s where we, as a country, trump over them.

                 Imran Khan’s party, ie the PTI has gone on offensive against the Army, the most important player in the power structure of Pakistan. They had trained their guns on Qamar Javed Bajwa, the erstwhile Army Chief. The present Army chief, apparently an appointee of the PDM, the coalition of seasoned politicians presently ruling Pakistan, has also come for strident criticism. With huge debt crisis and terrorism by TTP added to their cup of woes, things are not looking good for them. Many Indians now believe that this situation in the neighbouring country would keep them busy with their problems, thereby relieving us of terrorism through a thousand cuts, a policy initiated by Zia up Haq and practiced by successive military and civilian governments. 

         Qamar Bajwa, the erstwhile Army Chief, appeared to be a believer in civilian supremacy, a refreshing change from the control freaks in their Army. He was intelligent enough to have a cease fire agreement with India, while the Afghan situation was getting out of hand, and the US propped regime was about to fall like nine pins. With the imminent return of Taliban, there was risk of refugee inflow from the western border. By signing a cease fire agreement with India, he achieved a peaceful eastern border that could let him concentrate on the fluid situation across the Durand line.  (While it suited India too since the situation across LAC with the China wasn’t looking good). Bajwa also publicly postured that he wanted to keep the Army out of politics. Unfortunately, Pakistani politics is so much intertwined with the Army in the power structure that there truly was no way it could be achieved. While Imran Khan blamed USA (Amreeka, as the Pak anchors say) for his dislodgement from power, Bajwa knew that severing ties with US would hurt Pakistan more. Some of their most effective weapon systems and platforms are of US origin, harking back to relationship several decades old. Hence he rose up to defend Pakistan Army’s ties with USA. The defence equipment sourced from China, their strategic ally, are not very reliable. (It is the world’s worst kept secret, if whispers from recipient nations are to be believed. But that’s another story altogether.)

But I could see Pakistani diplomats/ defence analysts castigating Bajwa for not propping up Imran Khan and for backing the Sharif -Zardari duo behind the scenes. In Pakistani social media, PTI (ie Imran Khan’s party) supporters ran a huge campaign against the Army chief. The Army Chief’s personal financial details are in the public domain. The telephone conversations of many PTI leaders, family of judges and even the PM himself have been leaked. Everyone’s convinced that it is the spy agency ISI’s doing. The fact that senior Army Officers in Pakistan are allotted land in posh colonies run by the DHA (Defence Housing Authority) is a great source of amusement to those in India. The unreleased historical data of land allotments to the predecessors of Bajwa might be explosive. Most retired senior bureaucrats and uniformed Officers in India live in modest 3 bedroom apartments (like yours truly) and lead a spartan life. I suppose it’d be a good idea for Pakistan to discontinue this and allot land only to widows of those who lost lives in defending the country against terrorists. 

     There are multiple problems that besiege that country. A broken educational system that places too much emphasis on religion, elitist capture of institutions, messy public finances, burgeoning population, dysfunctional healthcare system, all feeding each other. The Army’s claims of staying away from politics wasn’t such a strong resolve, after all. It only took violence against Army installations on 9^th May 2023 by PTI supporters, to drive the Pak Army back to their old games. Sympathy to that country flows only from a few countries like China, Saudi Arabia and UAE, who also suffer from aid-fatigue. However, thinking of the few good men I’ve known, who belong to that country, I wish them peace and reconciliation.

The Fractured Himalaya- A short Review

 

     I had pretensions to (limited) knowledge about India’s China war of 1962. “The Fractured Himalaya” by Nirupama Rao punctured that belief. This is, in my view, the best book written on the events that led to the war. The twists and turns of history had boxed the players into a situation where diplomacy could not prevent the outbreak of hostilities. More importantly, it diminished the stature of Nehru, and his elder-statesman aura among countries newly liberated from the colonial yoke.

 The book deals with India’s relationship with the erstwhile Tibet and China’s entry into this mix with, avowedly, historical claims. In our eagerness not to upset the relationship with China (helped abundantly by some ill-thought-out advice by K M Panikkar, our then Ambassador to China) India had endorsed China’s annexation of Tibet in 1950. A period of camaraderie followed with many rounds of talks between Chinese Premier Chou En-Lai and Nehru. But by 1960, the relationship had deteriorated due to the road built by China across Aksai Chin region in Ladakh and Dalai Lama’s escape to India.

          During those halcyon days, a note (555 pages long) was prepared by the External Affairs Ministry of India, which laid out our detailed claim to Aksai Chin in the west and NEFA area in the East (called South Tibet by China). While the area in Aksai Chin was historically a trade route of India, the Chinese had no historical claim to it. As far as the Eastern part is concerned, India was quick to lay claim to areas along Mc Mahon line as soon as the Chinese attacked and occupied Tibet. Until then the Tawang monastery and NEFA region were loosely administered, with blurring lines of Indian and Tibetan control. Unfortunately, the same alacrity was not shown in the Western region in Aksai Chin where India had prior knowledge of Chinese road building activities- but were ill prepared to extend patrols to that area.

                This book reaffirms the theory that it was a war that was, on detailed analysis, fired by Nehru’s penchant for transparency, which he earnestly weaved into India's newly established democracy. The media, legislature and public opinion fuelled that fire and positioned India at a place where diplomacy could not save the day. The book doesn’t deal with the war much. But India’s strong Tibet links, Dalai Lama’s escape to India and China’s occupation of Tibet (and India’s rather speedy acquiescence to it) are events outlined well in this book. For instance, India wasn’t quite concerned that Tawang monastery was, in a sense, under the Tibetan tutelage (in a theological sense) and was even paying taxes to Lhasa. India woke up to the fact that China occupied Tibet and recognized the need to occupy patrolling points along the Mc Mahon line. The line itself being a product of the Tripartite conference between, British India, China, and Tibet, which was then a region under Chinese suzerainty, a term which no one understood much; it was more of a feudal concept.

  This writer heard Neville Maxwell’s lecture in Australian National University in Canberra in 2009. His book on the subject was well written, and not so complimentary to the Indian Political/ military leadership. He had eventually turned into an apologist of China. But the essential premise of his book was that India fought a noisy battle in the media and parliament. The Chinese were silent observers, waiting for practical adjustments to a colonial border. But they were also biding their time to strike. 

     Rao’s book gives a detailed background to the conflict. Cartographic details are omitted for easy reading. But it leaves the reader guessing what could be a solution to this long-standing conflict. Now that the entire dispute is linked to the Pakistan problem too, it has become intractable and permanent. There are signs that we missed the opportunity to give up our claims to Aksai Chin in return for recognition of the Mc Mahon line along the eastern sector. Unfortunately, that ship has sailed. India’s speedy recognition of China’s occupation of Tibet, our silence on the repression in Tibet in 1959 (which, even Ayub Khan, the military dictator next door, asked of India to jointly oppose), India’s support for China’s membership in UN (at the cost of Taiwan) and even their admittance to permanent membership of security council, have all eventually turned to naught:  gestures which didn’t count for friendship between two huge post-colonial powers. 

           China is today the new imperialist power. They will continue to lay claim to Tawang and Arunachal Pradesh, while continuing to occupy Aksai Chin. A negotiated settlement doesn’t look likely in the light of contemporary geopolitics. The only way we can hold on with the LAC is by increased economic and military power. At least until something miraculous happens; an accommodative, benign China and an India that is bold enough to compromise for peace. The present regime is going about silently about the happenings in the LAC. I wish Nehru had done that in the 1950s and 60s, without falling victim to the noise.