Dev Anand – Eternally Young or Trapped in Time?

Cine Durbar was once again instrumental in organizing through the IFFI, a panorama of Naveketan films to celebrate 60 years of the film producing company owned by Dev Anand. Mr Dev Anand was himself present as a bonus for the audiences along with the premiere of the coloured version of a Dev Anand starrer, Hum Dono. The theatre was packed with eager viewers from every generation awaiting the arrival of the star on the event. As soon as the star of the 1950’s arrived, notwithstanding the 50 years that stood between the times that his films were first released and now, the audiences mobbed him, jostling for autographs or a hand shake, or even a glimpse of the star. The compeer was pathetic; in a voice quivering with intense excitement at the sight of Dev Anand she was completely taken over by the star’s charisma. While the compeer repeatedly appealed to the audience to leave the star alone as he soon would be on the diaz, the mob around the old frail man was unnerving since one cannot guarantee the well being of such elderly when they find themselves trapped in a whirlpool of such volumes of carbon dioxide emitted from the mob that was falling on him, touching his feet and shaking hands. One fails to understand why the organizers did not bring Dev Anand directly on the diaz though it is possible that he needed some rest in the chairs and gather himself up before he could climb the steep steps to the podium.

The event was as badly planned as it could be as there were two very low level officers who struggled to open the cellophane packet from which they segregated a shawl, barely being able to open it up from the folds to make it of adequate dimensions that could be better settled around  the star’s ageing and drooping shoulders. Just before the gifting the shawl the Ministry gave a bouquet of standard sunflowers and carnations for the star to hold which he had to clutch all through the shawl ceremony and while delivering the acceptance speech. The compere was so stunned by the star continuing to be amazed at whatever Dev Anand did in her shrill quaky voice that it did not occur to her to lend the star a helping hand.

Dev Anand started by objecting to the contents of the felicitation speech; he said that the felicitator has stressed too much on what he had been when she should ideally have said what he is, continues to be and will emerge shortly as his new film releases. It is interesting that Dev Anand continues to make films and uses a felicitation ceremony as an occasion to promote his forthcoming releases. The Ministry officials were commenting on the delusion of grandeur that Dev Anand seems to be suffering from because notwithstanding his flops and the complete abandonment of Navketan by the financiers, he continues to believe that he can and that she should make films and that too for the good of the nation.

As Dev Anand continued to make his speech, three things came out very clearly. Firstly, the makers of popular Hindi cinema see themselves as serving the nation. Indeed, in the programme called Vishesh Jaymala in the Vividh Bharati of All India Radio and the television programme Jai Jawan almost equates film artists with the military, both as serving the cause of the nation. Secondly, Dev Anand believes that his cinema in particular and cinema in general is most successful if it speaks of timeless and eternal truth. One could immediately see the star-director-producer’s problems in failing to align himself with the times. Dev Anand insists that he is always modern and indeed he is very receptive to images of modern men and women, and to modern technology and techniques, to modern professions and occupation structures and to modern personalities, he convinces himself that there is no specific politics of the modern and hence he cannot capture the drama of changing times. In short, in the mindscape of Dev Anand, the world is timeless and eternal; it only changes on the surface. Such a belief system has been his failing as much as it was his success in the 1950’s.

Popular art uses the politics of its age in order to project the victories of the present power struggle as an eternal state, and this is the utopia into which the popular must escape into. Successful films are sensitive to the specific contradictions of their age but also clever enough to use narrative strategies and cinematic techniques to project such conflicts as an eternal truth when resolved in favour of the protagonist. The problem with Dev Anand is that while he very successfully pursued the utopia, he missed the trees for the wood because he was unable to address the conflicts and contradictions that emerged in a variety of ways over the past 60 years of Navketan’s existence. Is there a sociological reason for this? Yes, perhaps there is and my surmise is as follows.

We have to understand the politics of the Hindi cinema in terms of its basic ideological and political agenda which is intricately located in its history. The Hindi commercial cinema in particular and the Indian popular film in general were products of the new middle class intelligentsia that saw itself as the leader of the Freedom Struggle and as creators of new India. The Indian Constitution was considered as the ideal state of affairs and the cinema was supposed to imagine this idyllic state. For Dev Anand, since the idea of the ideal did not change, he felt no need to change cinema. What he missed out on was how changes of everyday life postponed the attainment of the ideal and therefore, what his cinema subsequently missed was an understanding of the concrete and temporal reality.

But what Dev Anand brought to Hindi cinema is perhaps no less than Phalke himself because his works marked out much of what cinema looks like today. If the Hindi film is formulaic, then it was none other than Dev Anand who had much to do with the setting out of this formula. Dev Anand had himself selected four of his films that showcased what he is all about – Hum Dono, Baazi, Guide and Taxi Driver. All his creations are variations of these four films. Of these, Guide is in colour and Hum Dono, an original black and white film has been rendered into colour. In the course of his ruminations about himself and his work, Dev Anand said that when he closed his eyes he sees black and then slowly the darkness emits strong light, the cinema. His cinematic images are thus not out there but those that reveal themselves from the background of nothingness. No wonder he has excelled in the black and white with strong images that are not contrasts of darkness against light but aporia of light through darkness. Hence his images and montages illuminate to reveal themselves. No wonder then Dev Anand films have dealt so much with mysterious happenings in our society in which the rich and the powerful are the villains. Further, if the rich man happens to be the father of the girl the hero loves then the former would have to be the villain. In this essay we will discuss Baazi and address through an analysis of the film how and why Navketan has played a central role in the formalization of the Hindi film

In a Dev Anand film, the hero is an underdog as always is the case but he is innocent, very often, innocent of what is the good and the bad. In this innocence he makes some “mistakes” that in today’s world would be considered as grave and unpardonable. For instance, he teases a well-meaning woman doctor, sneering at her generosity in running a free clinic and also for her being beautiful and professionally qualified and also for being the daughter of a rich man. There is vigilantism, depravity and above all bad taste in this depiction of the ideal male. Though the hero says later in the course of the narrative that he had misbehaved and was indeed sorry but the depiction of the bad behaviour was depicted as being suave and smart. The director, writer and of course the actor all of who had arrived at a consensus in creating the hero persona revealed to almost similar levels contempt not only for the female in the public space of a knowledge based profession but elevated the hero who had the “guts” to hurt a woman, pure in her intentions and untrammeled by poverty because of her riches. Dev Anand’s depiction of the ideal male thus attacks the women folk of the privileged in order to make his point against poverty. He establishes social envy of the have-nots through contempt for the haves by harassing, insulting and sometimes to the extent of emotionally violating their women.

Baazi is one of the central films of Navketan. Guru Dutt has directed the film, Balraj Sahni has written the script and Dev Anand plays the main protagonist. The hero is an underdog, a taxi driver by profession who falls in love with a rich, educated doctor, the only daughter of a rich lawyer. Romance is not the main story though it is the peg on which the tale hangs. The main story is that of the protagonist, the trials and tribulations he faces as he tries to manage a “normal life” through poverty. The idea of a “normal” life is the bond between a brother and a sister, the brother who looks after the sister and be with her through thick and thin. The image of the hero is therefore the protector brother, who can go to any extent in order to sacrifice for the sister. In Baazi, the sister is ill and the brother enters into the world of crime in order to be able to meet the expenses for his sister’s medical treatment. But that is too little and he has to go in search of a doctor who treats poor patients free of cost. But as soon as he encounters the heroine, who will eventually be the hero’s beau, he forgets about the sister and looking at this educated, beautiful, rich man’s daughter who dedicates her life to persons like he, the hero’s ego is ruffled and in a bid to cover up his own feelings of inadequacy in front of such a perfect picture tries to tease her, sabotage her efforts, insult her and destroy her confidence in every possible manner. Despite such insults, for being very capable and yet charitable, the doctor, played by Kamini Kaushal comes on her own to treat the sister. The hero feels even more humiliated at her kindness because he can, in no way match up to her. He calms down manageably when the heroine falls head over heels in love with him perhaps for his excellent looks and smart demeanor. Dev Anand helped his viewers to place a lot of value on appearance and style and in a way quite convinced his viewers that good looks could launch one anywhere in the world.

The hero of course would never imagine taking any help from a “woman” and especially as the woman has already fallen in love with him. The sister talks of the doctor as her “bhabi” and in this sense there is a possibility of marriage between the hero and the heroine and hence the hero, keeping to the social convention that the man must earn more and become the provider of women, proceeds to become an even larger gambler that what any gambler can possibly be. It is at the gambling den that he meets the vamp, who too falls in love with the hero instantly and later, also sacrifices her life for him. The Paro-Devdas-Chandramukhi triad is achieved, something that has been very central to the image of Dev Anand. The two women, one noble and one fallen both pine for the hero; the hero sets his own image vis-à-vis both women. Both women are well meaning and equally noble but they are set apart by the kind of choices they have. Rajni, the doctor can marry any well-qualified and well-settled man and yet chooses the taxi driver, our hero. Nina, the bar dancer can marry any rich man yet she chooses the hero. The hero passes tests in both worlds and thus, in the eyes of the viewer emerges a winner among all kinds of men at all available to women of any kind. Dev Anand, through two women set widely apart in the society, exhausts the social space as the best man who ever walked the earth. The principal narrative function of two women is to help the hero pass tests as the best man.

As the hero earns enough money to pay for his sister’s treatment and hence he is free of the heroine’s charity, he gains in confidence and starts meeting Rajni openly and soon attracts the ire of Rajni’s father. One day when on the way back from the sanatorium where the hero’s sister is admitted, the hero listens to Rajni and her father talking in the rear seat he immediately identifies the voice because as a taxi driver he is used to listening to people talking in the rear seat. The voice belongs to none other than the mysterious owner of the gambling den who people only heard but never saw. As he is about to spill the beans to the heroine, the father lays a trap for the hero and through unexpected turn of events, Nina is murdered trying to save the hero and the hero is charged with murder and sentenced to the gallows. The investigating police officer, the heroine’s childhood friend and presently head over heels in love with her was ill-disposed towards the hero but now rises to the occasion and investigates the matter. He proves that all evidences pointed out to the hero’s innocence but the hero, who the villain, the owner of the gambling den and Rajni’s father has threatened of dire consequences for the ailing sister refuses to budge from his confession to the crime. In the end, the police officer through his cunning extracts a confession from the villain and gets him and the accomplice arrested and the hero is let off scot free.

Nina, the ‘other woman’ dies sacrificing for the hero, which is, in the narrative, less of her loss and more of a gain for the hero. Since Nina is a fallen woman, death appeared to be her best option as she could not have possibly emerged into society. The vamp or the prostitute has always died for the hero because while they are used to portray the hero’s sexual powers and erotic charm, they are usually dispensed with because in genteel society such women have no place. But, in the film narrative, the best songs are sung through her and the songs “ tabdeer se mara hua taqdeer bana le, apne par bharosa hai to ek daun laga le” and “ samay guzarta jaye… so na na, kho na na” set the principles of the hero’s character. It is interesting as to why the vamp should articulate the basic principles of the hero’s character and his state of being and not the heroine.

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Modern High School – Selected Memories

When my mother decided to pull me out of my exhilarating bliss as a student in South Point into Modern High School, a long and tedious sentence started in my life as the condemned Sisyphus. I joined MHS in Class III because it was from Class III onwards that the school was housed in the Amir Ali Avenue building, close enough to be a walking distance from my home, or a distance that my grandfather supposed my mother could manage with the old landmaster engine Mark 1 Ambassador car. I was neither sent to Loreto House, a school that the Dasgupta girls usually went to before my generation, nor to Lamartiniere where some cousins studied, nor to Gokhale Memorial where my mother and her sisters read; for these schools did my grandfather decide were too far for me to travel to. So to MHS I went with the over sized uniform that my aunt who just passed out from the school had been wearing. To Dadu’s constant complaint of how expensive the school was, how expensive the books were and to my mother’s tears that quality and classy education was the girl’s best weapon against a world that in every which way was to be eventually cruel to her, I resentfully, ruefully stepped inside the swing door of Class III B waiting for my class teacher to arrive.

I realized that I was there with two other girls smaller than I, all of us looking out of sorts and out of place. Neither was in their uniforms because they did not have the time to get one stitched and neither had a legacy of over sized clothes as I had. I felt a class of four rows and eight desks scrutinizing us minutely with the same wonderment in their eyes as we had in ours till the door swung in and a lady walked in wearing high heel shoes and a tight skirt while the class cried out in a concert, Miss, Miss, new girls, three new girls. The teacher scolded the class, first say good morning Miss Payne, she demanded. The class sung out, Good Morning Miss Spain.. Then this lady turned to face us. I saw her desperately trying to smother a guffaw as she tried to find me from inside the many metres of large sized garments. Such a small girl, with such large clothes, she said and the class broke into peals of laughter. I felt a bit more comforted at what I sensed as a hostility turn into some kind of amusement among those who sat facing me.

The two other girls, I learnt were Madhuchhanda Kar, who now heads Chittaranjan Cancer Hospital and Sangeeta Roy Deewanji who now teaches in MHS, were shorter than I and were given seats in front. I got an isle seat in the third row. In South Point, I was the first student among all the sections, legendary for my marks, my hand writing, my needle work, my origami. In MHS, I sensed I had to stand among the ranks. It was death for me, or a new life, disconnected with my past. People feel a sense of loss when they move from school to college or from college to office. For me, I already had this feeling in my journey from South Point to Modern High, and that feeling was so done for me that never ever had any rites de passage been able to shake me up as this huge journey from Hindustan Park to Amir Ali Avenue.

MHS appeared to me like the Woodlands Nursing Home with its long corridors, laminated doors to classrooms on either side that were painted in pastel shades and had the same square glass covered holes in them for people to peep in. Two sweepers with broad mops on sticks seemed to be forever cleaning the corridors. None of the airy, breezy, hap hazard, free and chaotic atmosphere of South Point School prevailed here. Everything was sanitized and removed from the soul. We were made to stand in queues where not even a finger could jut out, we had to walk straight to the watchful eyes of senior girls who mechanically repeated Stop Stocking.. (stop talking) to even smother a loud breath. Everyone spoke in English, a language that I never conversed in and besides, it was a different society with all girls bearing unfamiliar names and unfamiliar surnames of many non-Bengalis to whom Kolkata was a home. I realized that I was hurtled in a different world, a wider world as my mother had told me.

This was not my problem; my problem lay more in the classroom, where every minute my pride of a first student of record holding full marks in every subject was beaten down into failures. The teacher wrote too fast on the board and rubbed it off even faster, I could not follow her accent and so got almost a zero in dictation, something in which I never in my life made a mistake. Only mathematics and Bengali seemed to be fine, because South Point had better standards in these subjects. My life was made worse by a thin, dark girl with two long and wriggly plaits hanging from her well oiled black curly hair, the monitress of our class, T.R.Girija who was so impatient with my slow responses that she never stopped calling me silly. Strangely, I did not resent her because it was of no use. I was in a new territory, without a past, without an identity and my voice and opinions had no value. Besides I was too stoned to respond.

In this terrible world of Class III B, there were a few faces that reached out to me as saviours in the whirlpool. There was a girl with a very kind face, Anita Ray who looked at me often across the desks and kept smiling assuredly at me. Today I know that the smile meant All Is Well. The other girl was the second monitress, Gurleen Grewal, who resembled Girija in many ways, thin, wriggly plaits on oiled curly hair, except that she was fairer and her hair little browner. She was kind and she made it a point to shuffle around my desk pretending to collect my copy as I went through some revisions and I could see that she edged Girija out of my way.

In the tiffin break I had to make some friends. In South Point I went to a half day school and there was no tiffin break. Hence I had no need to make any friends. While I was quite contended to eat out of my lunch box alone because I am used to being all by myself, I could see two girls, very self assured and confident walking up to me. They introduced themselves as Sumita Warrier and Saloni Pandey, my first friends in MHS. These girls became my tiffin companions and they were also the two who came home to my birthday party that year. Sumi left Kolkata for a while and when she returned she joined back in Section C. I greeted her once, but she seemed to have forgotten me. But Saloni Pandey and I remained friends, a relationship that was wholly Saloni’s making and not mine.

I returned home after the first day at MHS diminutive and demeaned. I cried so much that Dadu and Baba really scolded Ma for being so self willed in impairing and mutilating the image of the first girl among all sections, morning and afternoon sessions included, of South Point. I learnt that evening that the Birlas and Dadu were on inimical terms over Rani Birla College and that Dadu never considered Birlas as anything else but profiteers who sold education just as they did for tea and jute. Baba pleaded to Dadu that he would take up driving again, a passion that he had to forego after Dadu tore up Baba’s driving license after his near fatal car accident at the Theatre Road Crossing, so that he could drop me to Loreto House. But costs of petrol were calculated and the idea of my shifting out to Loreto House was dropped. Ma promised me that if I still felt so castigated and attacked after a month at MHS, she would pull me out of it without a second thought. With this assurance I was calmed enough to give MHS a try before I called quits. I pulled out my secret weapon to deal with such issues, a weapon that I still have and use and which is I got out a notebook and a pencil and started copying my text books word by word, punctuation by punctuation. At the end of the first week, I found Saloni Pandey copying the questions on the board from me and when Girija came she found that mine was the first copy to be handed to her along the isle. I slowly integrated into MHS.

With much despair I realized that I had no future of excellence in MHS. The girls seemed to be ahead of me in everything. Payal Narain was unbeatable in art, Girijia unsurpassable in maths, Anita Ray, terrific at English, Anusree Mitra and Sanjukta Dutta Gupta amazing in handwriting, Gurleen Grewal too smart and fast, Nandini Kapoor could write copiously, Madhu Kedia, a confident strutting know all and Sunita Chaocharia ran like a deer on the tracks; the girls were in a different league altogether. My performances in my earlier life and in my earlier avatar as first girl meant nothing. In a way I was freed of all pressures to perform and realized that learning could be exciting and absorbing. I dug deep into my books and soon I realized that my dictation and spelling were impeccable and what really surprised me the most was that my comprehension and reading seemed to please Miss “Spain” no end. I knew that I made my niche and even though I never stood first in MHS I started to enjoy learning. The seat reserved for me in south Point High School was given up forever.

In the days of middle class values, I was often reminded at home that I went to the most expensive girls’ school in Kolkata. This meant that the family budget that I could lay claim on was wholly taken up by the school fees and bus charges. This meant that I had to do without a private tutor, without taking expensive extra-curricular classes and refrain from buying story books. Hence I used the resources available in the school to the hilt. I participated in debates, quizzes; wrote for Lotus Buds, did the copy work for charts, edited wall magazines as extracurricular activities. I loved nothing more than doing my geography homework of colouring and shading maps to show mountains, ground elevations, sources and destination of rivers, mineral deposits and crops. I have carried my geography lessons out of school and I feel privileged to note that my idea of the world as a space is indeed an advantage in my profession.

I was devoted to the Library and helping Supriya Roy in arranging the Library was one of my most favourite occupations. The Library used to be on the ground floor of the west wing just across Class IIIB and that was a space that grew so sunny in the winter afternoon and so cool in the summer morning that attracted me the most. The Library also became my most free space. I had no ability to read when I joined MHS but within a month I was gulping down Enid Blytons so much that my grandfather decided to write to the UK government to put the authoress under check so that she stops writing books so distract me from my studies. A few years later, in class VI or VII, Madhuchhanda Kar introduced me to the magic of Bengali novels and immediately I finished Leela Majumdar, Bibhuti Bandopadhyay, Saradindu, Bankimchandra, Saratchandra, again in a wide sweep, with grandfather deciding that he was against the novel as a genre.

The literary rather than the aesthetic was more within my command and in those days of egoistic adolescence I stuck only to what I was good at and feigned indifference at skills those I had still to acquire. Hence I stayed clear of dance and music. Alka Yagnik was a year senior to us and her in Hindi songs and Sarmila Bose in Bengali, both in Champak house set the bar so high that there was no point for anyone else to score a point there. I was mediocre in sports, though I did play basket ball quite a bit and did some yoga and excelled in dodge ball; rounders, throw ball, athletics and drill display were never my strengths. Anusree and Sanjukta (Dutti) almost pleaded me to join the Girl Guide but it was one of those desires that I had to suppress because grandfather could never dream of allowing me to stay overnight out of home in a camp ! Dutti taught me that if one went for the “big job” and had no access to soap, one could rub some sand or mud or even wall plaster to substitute for detergent in washing one’s hands. It was a very liberating thought though all through school I lived in a nightmare of my knicker draw strings getting into a knot while the need to relieve myself was getting very urgent. In the break, friends could help untie the knot especially those who surreptitiously kept long nails which they filed with emory boards below their desks, but if one needed to go to the washroom during a class, one was always insecure about not finding a help should the necessity arise. Our school was miserly in keeping ayahs who it had to pay, though we were stuffed unnecessarily with teachers and prefects at every nook and corner like in a Soviet surveillance. I think that my invigilation skills arise from my unconscious registering of the panopticism of Modern High School and as I say that nothing escapes my notice whether it is the office corridor, or the parking lot, or the home kitchen.

I resented MHS while I was there. I got a distinct feeling that it was more like a finishing school rather than a school. There was a kind of dilettantism that we were being helped to acquire; some sports, some studies, some music, some dance, some acting, some writing, jacks of trades but without being a clear master in any one of them. These were, I suspected, only to prepare us for being wives of very successful men and not being a successful person on one’s own. Decidedly then most of us spent all our free time thinking and worrying more about boys than about our careers. This was fanned by our principal, “Willy”’s abhorrence towards boys. The more Willy struggled to keep the male sex beyond the range of our vision, more like the Miranda of Tempest we were tempted by them. MHS surely and steadily “feminized” us. I revolted so much against the strong culture of the feminine that I decided against anything that would ever make me even resemble a girl. In Sudarshana Bagchi’s plays I was always in male roles and in the life after school, in my mind, I am very much a man, a clear resistance to the “lady like” behavior that was always expected out of us.

But because of its finishing school approach, MHS taught me a few apparently trivial things that I believe that every school should follow. One is to silently walk in a line where even the end of the pleated skirt should not be seen sticking out; to have properly ironed uniformed, drawn up socks and polished shoes, to have hair tied back neatly, to have no decoration on the face, or body, to have covers and labels on exercise books, to have neatly packed pencil boxes, needlework boxes and games bags and right or wrong, never to defy authority. I realized much later in my life that such military discipline always helps one to climb up the social ladder and improve one’s professional position. I realized that the academic skills were developed rather broadly so that we easily found our way into career options like medicine, economics, law, teaching, music, dance, fashion designing, jewellery designing, cosmetics and among the braver hearts, social work and social activism. Perhaps because of a lady like approach, our girls were less confident about harder professions of being in the bureaucracy or the judiciary or as merchant bankers or in films, those that claimed more wholesome dedication, but in the balancing act that women seem to be always in, I think that we have managed remarkably well. At least from our facebook statuses, we all seem to be in awe of a normal and balanced life of some career, some cooking, some colleagues, some family, some interest and some duty towards our homes.

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Murder of CEO

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Ma, Mati Manush

Mamata’s Politics – Reign of Terror Or The French Revolution?

susmita.dasgupta@hotmail.com

On a rain lashed morning, hemmed in by a garbage strewn muddy road of a colony in a NCR suburb and marooned by water logged stretches of the posh South Delhi colonies of Greater Kailash and Saket, I sit interned in my modest flat thinking of my homeland, West Bengal, of the change that is brewing there, as the mild wafting breeze slowly gathers momentum into a typhoon. Mamata Banerjee, a non descript leader of the not too civil nor really cerebral political party, known as the Trinamool Congress is swarming up like the Joan of Arc to lay to cinders the citadel of the CPI(M), no less in its solidity that the Roman Empire had been. To the best of my understanding, the Bengali is averse to any kind of change and especially those that lead to a realignment in the balance of power. Hence, the CPI(M) is not going away because of an anti-incumbency, but because it has threatened the status quo. Trinamool Congress, hereafter the TMC, promises to fight against this disruption and something more. The “something more” constitutes the crux of the TMC politics, its mass base, its intellectual support and the fact that all over India, a significant section of farmers and workers are saying under their breath, only if Mamatadidi was by our side. A fair quantity of intellectuals seem to repeat what Tilak had once said about Bengal, what Bengal thinks today, the rest of India thinks tomorrow. It is irksome to many among the glitterati of Kolkata’s elite club to imagine that such a thought as the one that is swelling up into some kind of a grand critique of the present politics should emanate from a riff raff such as Mamata Banerjee. Let us therefore, observe closely what Mamata’s politics is all about.

As far as my recollection goes, the present wave started at Singur. Singur, the site of Bengal’s most fertile land and one of the few agrarian tracts which is fully irrigated supporting the bulk of potatoes and vegetables of the country as a whole, was claimed by Ratan Tata to become a hub for its automobile company. Farming, which is not too gainful an occupation after the input and utility charges like water, electricity, fuel and other consumables have increased enormously, appeared to be less lucrative than the interest income flowing out of huge money stacked away as fixed deposits in the bank. The huge money was supposed to come from the munificent compensation that the Tatas were offering in lieu of lands that supported livelihoods of farmers in that area. Many farmers found to be compensated off their land to be a god sent boon. Many however opposed and in the opposition of such farmers, grew a politics that seemed to be growing into unmanageable proportions. This is the typhoon of the Trinamool.

The Singur farmers’ resistance gave unto the Indian politics an interesting political category, the willing and the unwilling. In this case, the unwilling farmers were unwilling to give up their land, while those who were fine with compensation instead of land constituted the willing farmers. Studies on the resistance tried to understand the reasons behind the choices made by the willing and the unwilling farmers. The Nobel Laureate, Prof Amartya Sen said that industrialization was a natural progression from agriculture and hence farming had logically to make way for industries and the unwilling farmers were just being sentimental about land and fearful of a new way of life – a typical colonial construction of the Indian farmer as being ignorant, superstitious, and conservative.

There was yet another view on the farmers’ willingness to part with land which was that those who owned land but were absentee landlords wanted to sell land while those who were sharecroppers and even only landless labourers had more stake in keeping the land precisely because it were they who produced on land. This too is again rather naïve and facile and returns us to Prof Sen’s thesis that such attachment to land is therefore only habit or is sentimental or conservative and most likely all of them, in saying that those farmers who are the actual tillers of the soil are the ones who wish to continue to be in the same way. What such “class analysis” does not take into account is why should the farmer not be a rational decision maker of his own economics and why should he, in the face of an apparent possibility of a higher income through compensation not decide in favour of giving up his land? Until and unless the farmer is totally a non-rational sentimentalist who knows the price of nothing, such analysis of class does not help us understand the problem of Singur.

If we visit Singur and list in two columns the willing and the unwilling farmers, then we will have an interesting picture. Farmers on both sides will reveal very similar “external” features. Both columns will have farmers who own land, those who are landless, or sharecroppers, both sides will have the same distribution of educational qualifications, both columns will have very similar family compositions of unmarried daughters, sons who study medicine or engineering or are petty traders and civil contractors. The socio-economic and educational attributes have similar distributions for willing and unwilling farmers. Then why are they different? Only because some are non-rational sentimentalists and the rest is not? Such analysis tries to understand human behavior in terms of its correlation with factors that are outside the behavior itself. What one really has to understand is the behavior and the world view of that behavior.

Those farmers who are unwilling to sell land have an important difference with those who are willing to do so and which are that the unwilling farmers have fewer opportunities for an alternative source of income or believe that they do not have one. For the same income category, it will be observed that the farmer who is unwilling to sell land has “fallen” into this category, while the famer who is willing to sell land has “risen” into this category. Therefore, the world looks bleak for the one who has suffered a downward mobility while it looks rosy for the one who has enjoyed an upward mobility. The two farmers, even at the same level of economic prosperity conceal two directly opposite stories, namely one of decline and the other of a rising incline. The story of Singur thus divides its actors and characters into two clear divisions – one who is part of India’s shining story and the other who is not.

Yet another “calculation” guides the story of Singur and which is those farmers who wish to hold on to land are speculators and hedgers who wish to part with land only when the value of such land rises. They know that compensation, no matter how high is likely to be worn off as inflation gets the better of it and higher the amount of the present compensation, higher the inflation rate is likely to be. In such a view those who are unwilling to part with land are speculators, who do not wish to be parted of their future value of land. The politics of Singur is therefore also over the present value and the future value of land. Such a category of “unwilling” farmers constitute the stronger component of opponents to the land deal. The farmers are fighting to protect the future worth of their assets while the state is trying through forced commerce transfer this future worth of land from them to the land acquisitionists.

In contrast to the above, the willing farmers are definitely households of smaller means who desperately need the compensation money to start some business of their own. When the prospect of such a business was offered by none other than Tatas to become contractors in none other than inside the Nano factory, these farmers jumped at the prospect. The “Nano Bachao Committee” contrary to popular perception is not a CPI (M) outfit but has a motley combination of opinions and for all practical purposes is a standalone outfit. The debates within this outfit usually pertains to whether industrial employment is sustainable in the future or not and whether the local boys of Jamshedpur have benefitted from the existence of Tata Steel since four decades before Independence. The Nano Bachao Committee people speak in English, the younger ones among them dress well, and the older ones have well stocked homes with gadgets like air conditioners and cars of the latest models, the size of which would depend on the depth of their pockets. The Committee was formed when Tatas decided to leave West Bengal because Mamata Banerjee was so obstinately against development, an excuse, which all of us found at best as flimsy. Tatas finding an immediate home in Modi’s Gujarat was again too quick to be real and people smelt of an axis among the communist-communalist-capitalist.

Bengal, incidentally is one state in India where industries mean retrenched workers and locked out factories. Bengalis are the last persons to believe that industries provide jobs. At the time of Independence Bengal was India’s most industrialized state and slowly it also had the most unemployed. The USP of the CPI(M) was that it attempted to make farming somewhat profitable, but even farming had its problems of diminishing returns as villagers from all over Bengal migrated in droves to work as servants all over India. What protests in Singur did was not to suggest the merit of holding onto land but rather to cry foul over fooling people with false promises of jobs with industries. Mamata’s politics is not about farming over industry, nor about the merit of agriculture over manufacturing, but it is about exposing lies of prospects of an inclusive economic development through the policies that governments irrespective of the party in power pursue and propagate. The reason why all over India, farmers and workers are seeking “Mamatadidi” is because they have seen the great lie that is being ferreted as the truth, the lie being development that only increase private profits can also mean public gain. Mamata’s politics is about this huge schism in the country that divides India again after the Partition, into constituencies of those who are aligned with the small base of capitalism and those who must remain outside the pale and slowly decay to death.

Mamata’s politics could never have reached the zenith that it has done had not the intellectuals and an increasing number of the literati also seen the point. There is a steady rise among her supporters in the media, in cinema, in the FM radio and of course in the academe, not only in Bengal but everywhere in the country, openly stating the divide in India, acknowledging the existence of two Indias with the uncomfortable realization that the middle class will also, in time know of decadence that has been known so far to the poor. Mamata makes us realize that all is not so well with us and this is her politics. She does not promise stable governments, sensible ministers, honest workers and clean bureaucrats; we are not certain of what her victory will bring for us for all it might be the Reign of Terror without the French Revolution. But as of now she is the Joan of Arc.

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Dear Shri Ratan Tata

New Delhi.

18th October 2008

Dear Mr Ratan Tata,

This letter to you is in response to Mr Modi’s letter to the Buddhababu and yours to the youth of Bengal written over the past week. Sometime back I saw full page advertisement in the Business Standard (2nd October, 2008, Kolkata, pg 5) that extolled you to stay on in Bengal since you were the hope of new Bengal and of its young persons. It was signed the Young People of Bengal. I was intrigued by the page because it contained no marker of the advertiser and no name of its printer. It was totally anonymous. But now with your open letter addressed to the youth of Bengal I surmise that it was your company that bought the space and published the anonymous advertisement. Incidentally, the Business Standard was a paper that published the almost scandalous deal that the government of West Bengal had signed with your company and hence you perhaps chose the paper to publish the advertisement probably in an effort to turn the popular opinion in your favour. It is interesting how you have relied so much on popular opinion and the media for a project that claims to be hard economics and technology. We thought only democracy was run on popular opinion, it is heartening to know that even businesses choose to be run by such means as well. If democracy were to serve the cause of industry, nothing could be better.

I distinctly remember the time when you announced the one lakh rupee car when I said to myself that the Tatas have now broken the price barrier in the automobile industry. I soon read that you were going to develop the hydrogen car and I swelled in pride at your marvel. I knew that if India was to ride the crest of innovations it had to be through you. As a Bengali, I have no faith in the Marwaris and the Gujaratis (they are mere banias) but Tatas being established, respected and traditional, are the real industrialists. Tatas are honest, transparent and responsible. I have been to Jamshedpur and seen with my eyes how people, whether they are in your steel plant or not swear by you. When I became a working and an earning individual, I preferred Tata to anything else. Tata Eau de Cologne was the only perfume that I used; I bought the Tata Indicom and installed the Tata Sky. I am insured under Tata AIG, purchased Tata Steel shares and hence greatly looked forward to the Nano, the Tata Car. I found the Indica a bit heavy for my size is the Maruti 800, but the Nano, I imagined would sort out that problem.

The Nano also meant to me something else. By locating the plant into West Bengal, I felt that you were going to give a new economy, a new culture and a new society to Kolkata. I was only twenty two when I left my home and my parents behind because Bengal could give me no employment that would do justice to my qualifications and the standard of living I inherited. Each day of my stay of a quarter century away from home I have lived with the dream of going back to Kolkata some day. Nano and the Tatas gave me hope of that return. It was belying of the promise of homecoming that upset me the most when you decided to move out of Bengal.

It was then really that I took a hard look at the Singur stand off and this was also the first time in my life that I really noticed Mamata Banerjee, the accused in your open letter. I have been so long outside Bengal that I am out of touch with the details of everyday life in the state. Mamata, to me, is one who is incessantly upsetting my travel plans back home because she seems to call one bandh after another. But suddenly as you decided to move out of Singur into Sanand and openly called the progromist Narender Modi as the good M, and Mamata as the bad M, it was then something struck me. I realized that notwithstanding Mamata was the bad M, it was pernicious for you to have called Modi the good M, the man who has used political power to sponsor riots and finish off his bad M, the Muslims. It was at that moment that I started calling up people in Kolkata to find out what really had happened.

I began first by reading through the details of the massive subsidies that you were to get. So the people of the country and the state were helping you with Rs 30,000 per car to maintain the Rs one lakh barrier. In days of industrial competition, such subsidies are unethical and you could very soon be put to question by the Competition Commission as soon as it is formed.

Then I looked towards Singur. I am familiar with that area and I learnt that a piece of land was lying just across the road of an area of over 500 acres which could have served your purpose. The only thing that you would have had to do was to construct an underpass and things would have been solved. But you insisted on the contiguous area of the 350 acres whose owners were unwilling to sell land. When I visited the locality, your steadfast demand of the land of the unwilling farmers became clear to me. The land was irrigated and you needed water. So with land you were claiming water as well. In any case, irrigated land is a precious thing in India and more so in Bengal because of its high population density. I was quite surprised when you insisted on such an irrigated land be given to you when you know that a car can be manufactured anywhere but food crops cannot be grown in any place. What lay behind your obstinacy was puzzling to me. I imagined that with your stature you should have at least gone half way with the farmers and helped Buddhababu to abandon the acquisition of the 350 acres and instead settled with the underpass alternative. For you, the compromise would have hardly cost you anything, for the farmers it meant their lives.

As a child I read Tagore’s poem Samanya Khoti in which the queen of a kingdom burnt down shacks of the poor people because she wanted to dry herself after a cold bath in the river, I felt that you were like that queen reveling in your own glorified self gratification when you should have been the king meeting people half way, leaving more from your share to make others happy. But it seems only the greed of profits helps you grow and that such greed is the only virtue in a free market. By such logic then you should respect the right of some farmers not to sell their property if they are unwilling to do so just because you as a buyer insist on it. Such is not the sentiment of a free market; it is an even lesser sentiment of a free society.

As the Singur struggle was going on, I was feeling the heat of rising vegetable prices and soon enough the government admitted that the rise in prices was also due to a slowdown in agricultural production. It suddenly hit me that food production was dropping and indeed, the Planning Commission was true when it said that 70% of India’s farmers want to leave farming because of the poor remuneration in the occupation. Since we cannot force farmers to remain in agriculture when it yields them less money, we would be, as the recent food price rise suggests, facing what one knows as food insecurity. This is not a nice thing to happen especially since we know of the Bengal Famine in 1943, barely sixty years ago killed three million people and recently helped to give Amartya Sen his Nobel Prize. In this light, we should be grateful to farmers who are still willing to produce food for us. But you portray such farmers as lawless, violent, reactionary and quaint just because they decide to feed us when most of them no longer wish to do so. As an industry leader of the country I imagined that you would be the one who should be alerting us to the grave crisis facing us in terms of food insecurity and its greater crisis in the impending corporatization of farming, instead, you show scant knowledge of the importance of food growing lands and even scanter respect for informed opinions who raise the issue.

There is a certain kind of economics of a global market and which requires us to only concentrate on producing those goods that we are good at. The rest of it we could buy. India is not an efficient producer of food, it is an efficient producer of steel and cars, yours being the world’s cheapest ones. Thus, we could very well produce steel and cars and buy food. By such switch we would be increasing the overall income of the country. This is exactly where the case of the Nano fits. But away from this neat model, there is a reality and which is that of food security and food sovereignty. We know of a similar situation in the form of the oil economy, where no matter how our economy has grown to prosperity we are still harassed by rising oil price because we do not produce it by ourselves. Food, is an essential commodity like steel and it is better that we produce the subsistence quantities for ourselves by ourselves. Otherwise food prices will play truant with us in the future and while we would be left with cheap cars we would have our stomachs empty. Hunger, surely will not help us buy your Nano, especially when your factory would employ no more than a mere 1500 persons progressively to be reduced in the pursuit of productivity.

As I was mulling over the Nano versus the food security issue, I stumbled across an issue of the Statesman (19th September, Kolkata etc, front page) in which there was a report on the area of land and capacity of the car manufacturing plant. According to this report, you could have at most required 700 acres of land for an annual capacity to manufacture 5 lakh cars with ancillaries. The report listed out several car manufacturing companies and their ancillaries and nowhere in the world, does a car company need as much land as the Nano would need. What is even more pertinent is that in the pursuit of competitiveness, you sack workers, reduce fuel consumption and cut down on raw material consumption, I am curious to know why you are less inclined to show such parsimony in the case of land, which is a scarce resource.

When I reflect on the Nano project in Bengal, I feel that never in the history of Bengal was a corporate body welcomed with such open arms. Bengal was determined to change its image from being a militant trade unionist state to one that would show up the ethos of good industrial culture. Buddhababu bent backwards in projecting himself as one no more hostile to the capitalists and one who promotes industry. Almost every one in Kolkata lapped up in pride such an impending change in Bengal’s future prospects. The worker abandoned his demands for fair wages; the babu left his laziness behind gearing up to work for you, the women in the farmer families looked forward to opening up their canteens. But you disappointed everyone; you left your vendors high and dry, left the Bengal exchequer strained with the huge money that the government had spent for your project, got Mr Modi to call Buddhababu and us Bengalis names and then decided to be kingmaker by attempting to meddle with our political decision making through open letters. As being the world’s cheapest steel maker, the world’s most innovative car maker, the owner of the only private city in India, and being the oldest industry house in the world’s largest democracy you should have been the one to remind the Bengal Chief Minister of the WTO issues of India, our Planning Commission’s concerns about agriculture and how we are deadly worried about threats of hunger and why food security is the very core of a successful industrial base. To top it all up, you have decided to fine the residents of Bengal by demanding a huge compensation, which I believe would be transferred to Mr Modi to keep the Gujarat balance sheet in order, something that the “tolabaaj goondas” do in Kolkata. I am disappointed to find in the country’s most revered industry house the mentality of a cheap extortionist, a blackmailer, and a self-aggrandized narcissist who forgets that in giving us a car he also means to make his own profits, not normal profits but super profits. I suspect, that in addition to the above, you were also a land grabber.

Yours truly,

Susmita Dasgupta

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Dear Mr Chidambaram

Surajkund NCR, Haryana

7th January 2009

The

Honorable Home Minister

Government of India

New Delhi

Respected Shri Chidambaramji,

I am writing this letter to you in a state of extreme grief and shock. This morning (7.1.09) at 3.44 am I was picked up from my rented residence in Haryana on the ground that I was a Bangladeshi. I see in this a vicious design of the police and state to ethnically cleanse the migrants into the state of Haryana from West Bengal. I am so traumatized that I can hardly stand up straight and hence kindly excuse my ramblings as I dictate this letter to my employer in Bengali who is transcribing my words in English for you.

My name is Malati Patra, age 43, female and married and living separately from my husband Bablu Patra. My only child, a daughter is married with a child and lives with her in-laws and husband in Batanagar, Maheshtala area of Kolkata. I was Malati Haldar before my marriage. My father is Shri Ratan Haldar and mother is Smt Saraswati Haldar. I was born at my parents’ home in Jagadhatripur, 14 Laat under Kakdwip Thana of South 24 Parganas. I studied in Manmathapur Shiksha Bhavan High School. My father owns land inherited over generations and I too own land divided by my father among my siblings and I. I work as a part time cook in several houses in Eros Garden in Surajkund NCR.

My father –in-law, Late Bagambhar Patra lived in Patharpratima Thana of south 24 Parganas. My husband lives and works in Delhi while his family stays in the village in south 24 Parganas.

I live in a rented accommodation at the address given above. My co-tenant is a Bengali Muslim family comprising of a married couple and two infants. Last night this Muslim family and I were lifted by the police.

It was 3.44 in the morning and the police came with their faces fully masked. They were neither in their uniform, nor wore badges, carried no search warrant and the only feature that said that they were the police was that they came in a police jeep. I was woken up from sleep by a woman police who was holding a baton over my head. In the cold morning neither the small children nor the adults were allowed to even wear our woolens. I was in my night clothes and insisted that I wear my underclothes. The woman then stripped me and asked me to change in front of her. We were asked not to make any noise and the neighbours were asked to remain indoors and never to speak of the incident to anyone and not to ever discuss what they saw.

The police jeep carried us very far and drove us to a police station. My co-tenant was asked to pay Rs 75,000 to the police. As the police insisted that we were Bangladeshis, I wanted to call up my husband and my friends. They did not allow us to call up anyone. Then in the course of the arguments, they suddenly noticed my red and white bangles and my sindur that married Hindu women wear. Initially they said that I was faking my identity but it seems that there was one among them who caught on my accent and decided that it would be safer for them to let me go. Suddenly the police gave me Rs 30 and asked me to take a bus to Kashmere Gate from where I could board a bus to Badarpur. When I was coming out of the police station it was early morning and the children had started going to school. I asked the school children what the area was and it is from them that I learnt that it was Shahdra, Salimpur.

My co-tenant showed property papers to the police who tore them off. The man was let off after taking Rs 25,000 from him but his wife and children are kept back. One of the children is suffering from high fever and is not allowed to wear warm clothes.

My complaint to you is that in the name of terrorism you are creating an atmosphere of witch hunting where ethnic prejudices are having a free play. The state in my case has behaved like a non-state actor by assaulting the rights of a free citizen to reside and live freely anywhere in India. The state of India has abrogated the Constitutional provision by actively discriminating against the Muslims calling them as illegal migrants when Muslims are an integral part of the Indian population. The police have misused the state machinery to terrorize innocent citizens only to give vent to their ethnic prejudices, which in a multicultural democracy is a scandal. I am appalled by the callousness that you are showing in calling for an end to terror through non-state means of police vigilantism. I ask you why I will not think of India as a FAILED STATE !!!

It is not everyday that I can get to write letters. I can only speak and often my employers are not kind enough to transcribe my thoughts into letters. But today I am insulted as never before in my life and my employer is lenient towards me and so I will write more.

I want to ask you that if you the educated people salivate at the prospects of working in the USA and Europe and become NRI, why will not a Pakistani or a Bangladeshi be allowed to come and work in India? I myself want to go to UK as a housemaid then why not recognize the urge in every human being to wish to migrate to the more developed countries? Like a NRI, even a Bangladeshi or a Pakistani citizen has every right to migrate into economically more developed countries for their livelihood. If the USA or Australia or Canada or Europe did not allow immigration, all your elite NRIs would be only illegal migrants. We want to be a developed nation like the USA then why not allow work permits for non-nationals? I know that Bangladeshi migrants would push down my wages and squeeze my opportunities for employment but despite that I want all migrants who come to my country in search for a better life to be able to do so.

During my childhood in West Bengal I have witnessed the Naxal movement. I have lived through bomb blasts and assassinations. I know what terror in civic life is. This is also why I know that a terrorist lives in camps, is a loner and takes training with military experts. I know for sure that a man living with wife and children, worrying over children’s school and wife’s health is not the image of a terrorist. In trying to look for terrorists I can now see how you are harassing a part of your own population. What scares me even more is that your anti-terror posture is a way of eliminating chunks of Indian population out of the census count. The area I live in has about 20,000 households with a majority of them as the rich class. For the past three years many a times “officers” have come and collected forms and photos for making voter I cards but not a single family in our locality has an I card. This is your innovative way of striking off voters from participating in the voting process. I am dumbfounded at the deviousness of the Indian state which carries such a moral high ground about it saying that it is the world’s largest democracy.

Look at the Prime Minister and yourself carefully. Is the PM not the very Sikh that assassinated Mrs Indira Gandhi? Are you not the same Tamil that assassinated Rajiv Gandhi? If I were to stereotype you as terrorists would that make you comfortable? Then why is the Indian state bothering a law abiding Bengali Hindu who confuses her l’s and n’s, and r’s and a’s as a Bangladeshi and that too a terrorist? If Hindus have torn down the Babri Masjid, will I as an Indian Hindu be responsible wherever I go? If Dhananjay Chatterjee, a Bengali has committed the most gruesome murder, will I be made accountable?

It has been my great misfortune that I, an uneducated person had to remind an educated man like you of the Indian Constitution and the rights of citizenship.

I want a written assurance from you that never will the Indian state use non-state means against any bona fide Indian citizen irrespective of language, religion, caste, creed and ethnicity. I also want from you in writing that you will always differentiate between the lawful citizen and the criminal, the civilian and the terrorist irrespective of whichever community that they belong to.

I wish to remain proud of my country as I always have been. I will be very disappointed if the present government cannot uphold the dignity of my nation which is the sangam of the world religion and culture.

Yours truly,

Malati Patra

Cc:

  1. Members of Parliament
  2. Chief Ministers of States
  3. Chief Justice of India
  4. Solicitor General of India
  5. Newspapers
  6. Television Channels
  7. Other opinion makers
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Nirole Report – September 27th 2010

18/25 Dover Lane,

1st October 2010

Dear Boromama, Mejomani, Sejomani, Nomama, Chhotomama, Bachi, Ma and Bulimashi,

I was in Nirole on the night of the 27th September and returned in the morning of the 28th of September 2010. I stayed at Padarenu and was really pampered by Khokon, Shanti, Sanjeev, Archana and Rupali. Baba accompanied me on my trip. The reason for my visit was to pay my homage to Kamakhya and Ishaneswar for my 50th birthday. But I combined this visit with another mission which has occupied my mind for quite a while now. This mission is to convince people to stop the practice of animal sacrifice. You may have noticed that I have not been to Nirole during the Pujos for the past 25 years and the sole reason for this long avoidance is the simple fact that I am unable to face the ritual of animal sacrifice. Therefore, I decided to make an assessment of the overall opinion in the village regarding this practice. What follows is a report of my interaction with the opinion makers on the issue of animal sacrifice.

I barely had a swig of water and rushed off with Khokon as my guide to Attahash. This is the first time that I ever visited the temple. I met the trustees and they informed me that the temple had banned animal sacrifice from their mode of worship ever since the Directive Principle 51 of the Indian Constitution was put in place making animal sacrifice an offence to the Indian law. The temple trustees also informed me that animal sacrifice is banned all over India in public temples held under trusts. The devotees however continue to use the temple facilities as public infrastructure to sacrifice animals. This is how animals continued to be sacrificed in Attahash as well. But the trustees have been able to reduce the numbers and frequency of this killing by campaigning intensely against the superstition. They showed me their campaign materials and asked me whether I could contribute by giving them ideas on the campaign against animal sacrifice and promote vegetarianism as a way of life. I assured them that I would do whatever I can from my present location in Delhi.

I went over to the Panchayat as my next stop. I spoke to the Pradhan, Smt Pratima Chunari. Her husband, Narayan Chunari did most of the talking and on hearing of Ma Kamakhya, put his hands over his head and did a massive pronam in air in deference to the Goddess. He said that he was against animal sacrifice and that he would do everything in the Panchayat’s power to put into effect the Directive Principle 51 that bans animal sacrifice. But the problem was that the sacrifice in Kamakhya bari was a private affair and conducted within the boundary walls of a private property and hence the Panchayat could only intervene if the office bearers received a complaint. He advised me that I should put in a formal complaint, which I decided to refrain from for the time being. Mr Chunari was much enthused over my project and suggested that I should widen my horizon to convince devotees who choose to remain steeped in the darkness of ancient rites and superstitions by issuing pamphlets at regular intervals. I have promised him that I would indeed do this.

The next person I met was Bikash Mondal, the Secretary of the Cultural Society. Mr Mondal organizes jaatras in Nirole and in the neighbouring villages. His grandfather and father have also put up shows for Kamakhyabaari and I immediately recalled the heartrending melodramas of Devi Sultana and Masnad Kaar. Bikashbabu said that animal sacrifice was a private affair of Kamakhyabaari and that the villagers had nothing to do with it. Villagers had no opinion on the practice and really would not care if it continued or was stopped. But on the point that animal sacrifice made a public spectacle out of a heinous act, he agreed, was damaging for one’s sensibilities and especially was very harmful for children. Animal sacrifice in any case should be stopped and since he is an ardent believer in vegetarianism especially in view of the climate change, he felt that we should stop eating meat altogether.

While Bikashbabu and I were talking, Sanjeev informed me that the animal sacrifice was a tax that the family imposed on lessees of Nopukur. He said that he has the papers to this effect. But the others like Shanti, Archana and Bikashbabu differed saying that the practice started after the Big Fire in which Dasudadu’s father was badly injured. I would then place the vintage of the ritual only at 150 years and not ever since Kamakhya’s worship started some 400 years ago. Interestingly, it is believed that Ishaneswar himself set Nirole on fire!! I wonder why He would want to do that!

Bikashbabu took me to the Secretary of the Nirole High School, Mr Saradindu Rano. Saradindubabu turned out to be a scholar of English literature presently doing his doctoral thesis on Mulk Raj Anand. Saradindubabu is vehemently opposed to the ritual of animal sacrifice. He shares my concerns on making violence into a public spectacle and its possible adverse impact on children. If there is just one reason to stop animal sacrifice it is for the mental health of the children. He said that the sacrifice can be turned into a gift giving ceremony like giving new clothes, or books and stationery or even food to the poor children. Kamakhyabari would be far better known through such acts of giving rather than holding on to psychologically damaging practices such as the animal sacrifice.

Saradindubabu gave me some interesting insights on the family of Kamakhyabaari. It seems that this family was famous in the village for maintaining a veritable army of henchmen, those who were “non-Bengalis”. These henchmen were given the Debottor lands to be cultivated. Most probably these were the Baghdi people that the Attahash records mention. Jogindranath Gupta’s book “Banglar Dacaat’ has details on these henchmen. It was only after these henchmen were cracked down upon by the Indian government after Independence, that they dissipated and the land came to be occupied by the present Mondals, or the Morols, from who Morol para, the locality in which Kamakhyabaari is situated gets its name.

In the meanwhile I had been to Ishaneswartala for paying my respects. Some children were playing cricket in the ground in front of the temple. They surrounded Baba and me and started asking for food!! These children went to school and they came from respectable families of weavers of the village. Their begging for food sent a chill down my spine as I sensed that India was steadily heading towards one of the worst food crises since the Bengal Famine of 1943.

On my way back, I met Bansidadu doing his aaroti at the Kamakhya temple. I raised the topic of ending animal sacrifice in the Kamakhya mandir. He looked relieved at the prospect of no longer having to witness a young lively kid being cut into two. He said that he eagerly awaited the family’s decision to end the practice and replace a young goat with a pumpkin.

The following morning I met Atmaram Mukherjee, the head of the Priest’s Association in Nirole. Atmaram explained to me very patiently why animal sacrifice was an integral part of the Durga puja of the Shaktas and since the Kamakhyabaari was a Shaktabaari, animal sacrifice was necessary for the worship to be of any consequence. I was a bit surprised because all along Dida told us that the Guptas of Nirole were Vaishnavs. Why then I used to ask her, do we have such a violent ritual? She did not seem to really know how such an anomaly emerged, but she was certain that we did not have animal sacrifice since time immemorial.

Atmaram tried to convince me that animal sacrifice was not only permitted by the Shastras but was in fact prescribed by the Holy texts to signify the completion of a certain process. If we stop the ritual, then all our efforts at worshipping Kamakhya will be belied. When I asked him why the public temples had no sacrifice, he said that these temples had a different mode of worship and which did not render benefits to private individuals. Since Kamakhya pujo was a private affair, sacrifice constituted an integral part of the pujo meant to deliver private gains. When I asked why a goat and not a pumpkin, as his own family sacrificed a pumpkin, he said that there was no problem if a vegetable was to be substituted for an animal because according to the Shastras, sugarcane could replace a buffalo, pumpkin could come in place of a goat and arecanut could be imagined to be a lamb. But some families were meant to sacrifice vegetables and some were meant to sacrifice animals and Kamakhya baari was an animal sacrificing family.

I was getting a bit confused with Mr Mukherjee’s discourses and it was only when I asked him what the procedure through which such conversions could be done was, I realized what he had been hinting at all along. Animals are sacrificed to appease the bad spirits that threaten to destroy the pujo. The flesh and blood are made available to these ill meaning spirits so that they do not disturb the Brahmins from peacefully pursuing the worship. Brahmins are the pure ones and hence they have no need for flesh, the flesh is meant for the witches. Why is it that witches come to Kamakhyabaari and not to the Mukherjees? Simply because the witches are the members of Kamakhyabaari; the impurity and hence the bestiality of the family members make it important that their baser senses be first satisfied by having the blood and the meat. In the Indian society, such attributes are reserved for the lower castes and Atmaram’s repeated mention that only three families in Nirole practice animal sacrifice, among who are the benes, sadgopes and us, does he bracket the family of Kamakhyabaari as a low caste one? Is it because of our low caste that we must sacrifice animals?

I suddenly could find the larger picture. The animal sacrifice started after the Big Fire and the Big Fire was set by Ishaneswar. While one would think that the Morolpara was saved by Kamakhya and hence the goat sacrifice, this fails to explain why the benes and the sadgopes who were almost annihilated by the Fire also cut live goats during the pujo? To the best of my understanding of Indian sociology, this was a caste war. The Brahmins were the ones who set us on fire because we were running the Sanskrit school and a temple and the largesse that the family parted with to maintain a huge army of henchmen shows that Kamakhyabaari was gaining in economic, intellectual and social power. So the fire was a typical caste war, one that we see so often all across the country even today. The ritual of animal sacrifice was a compromise made by Kamakhyabaari as the defeated party in the caste war because it was an acceptance of the essentially low caste and even untouchable status of the family despite its riches and erudition. Till this date, the Kamakhyabaari continues this self deprecating and self demeaning practice that reinforces its low caste status and makes itself ranked on the same level as the benes and the sadgopes.

It is not surprising that Mr Mukherjee encouraged our pala to stop the practice of goat killing immediately and he insisted that the shoriks need not be consulted for affairs during our pala. I suspect that he has hopes that some shoriks would continue with the animal sacrifice reminding the village of our low caste status while in our pala we graduate to ritually higher castes through pumpkin sacrifice.

In sum, the following points have emerged from the above ;

  1. villagers have no opinion on animal sacrifice but would like it to be stopped.
  2. the intellectuals in the village think that animal sacrifice may be damaging for children’s sensibilities and is a superstition that can be done away with.
  3. Priest’s have no issues with replacing a goat with a pumpkin.
  4. Goat sacrifice is a marker of a low caste status of the family.
  5. Shoriks have really nothing to do with the specific content and scale of offerings and the pala members are free to spend or not to spend in any manner that suits their means and beliefs.

 

I have placed before you the results of my tour in Nirole as transparently as I could. It is clearly evident that a pumpkin could well come in the place of a goat right from this time onwards. Indu, an animal rights champion, will make all the necessary conversions in the pujo podhhoti.

With regards to all,

With love,

Mithua

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Break Ke Baad – Impudent Chauvinism

Sometimes I get appalled at the decisions of the Censor Board of India. They are overly concerned with sex, violence and smoking on screen, often take these scenes out of their context and assume that the frames containing such “contraband contents” can impact the audience. But what the board invariably misses out is the ideology that is smuggled through the gloss and shines of celluloid, mounted on fully resolved cinema stories and portrays the assumed pains and pleasures of the characters have a far greater ability to impair attitudes and damage the progressive ideas of its viewers. Break Ke Baad is one such film. I wonder what the women’s activists are doing about it, and what is even worse is that the principles of girls’ colleges seem to not even whimper.

Break ke Baad is the story of a young girl played by Deepika Padukone and Abhay Gulati, played by Imran Khan. Around them is the mother of the girl, a retired actress and a thrice married aunt of the boy. These two elderly women move the control switches of the story to have the girl and boy marry each other at the end because they love each other. Through the beginning, middle and end, the aim of the film is to perpetuate the idea that a girl pursuing her career and passions is willful and selfish because that requires her to travel to Universities abroad and focus on her work in a manner that she has stay away from home. Any young man or woman pursuing professional and academic excellence knows the worth of staying away from home among her course peers and how much the right “atmosphere” is needed for her to get her act together. Instead of promoting life in the hostel, the vratachari lifestyle of celibacy that is so needed for any tapasya, the girl is literally being burdened to carry a childhood love into a mature romance that progressively gets embedded into a demand for marriage. Her mother, an actress is so disrespectful of histrionics because her profession had pained her. What the pain is, she does not specify, but her mention of her husband leaving her hints that her state of being a cheated woman had to do something with her career as an actress, or her single minded devotion to her career. Truly, the girl calls her mother by her first name, telling us that were mothers to pursue professions, children are deeply distressed and even damaged emotionally. The director presents an ideal stay at home scene, in which the talented older woman, the mother is passionately into pottery and the independent minded, free willed girl is seen helping the former out, a typical Indian idea of a serene life is injected into us as a drug, mother and daughter staying at home and pottery, a Page 3 hobby, is used to keep women firmly grounded into the courtyard, the only open space that is allowed for women to inhabit.

The girl wears short clothes, smokes a cigar, drinks, and gets drunk; these are just fine because these are indulged in the presence of the boyfriend or of the mother. But when she moves out of the ambit of the “gaze” of her man and mother, the latter resent her as being self-willed, selfish and undisciplined. Hence the grand metaphor of the flying kite for the girl, who flies away into heights and distances only to have the tether firmly held by her boyfriend. The moment she tries to immerse herself into her studies and career and seeks peace, silence and solitude those which are needed so crucially when one has to pull off a degree, she is accused of being casting away her commitments abruptly. Let us never imagine that she will be ever allowed to grow out of her childhood love and find her true self through a romance that her adult self indulges in. Observed a little more patiently, we see the motif of a child marriage, a bethrowal as in guana awaiting the wedding, as in bidaai. Hence focus and undivided attention to studies and a future career is constantly poked and punctured by the phone calls from mother and the overenthusiastic boyfriend’s turning up at the girl’s place. The girl is made to appear lonely on her graduation day when the boyfriend is too busy to be with her and mother appears only on the last day. Loneliness is the price that she must pay for locking herself up in her studies. Romantic love that must culminate into marriage is ultimate happiness for a woman and any pursuit of her individuality, as in a career, must be a part time affair.

The boy is portrayed as a metrosexual, looking after his girl as a parent would do for a child, or like a baby sitter. Though they are both of the same age, the ideal man is portrayed as a little adult, matured, and patient. He is content to remain a step behind his lady love; but must be omnipresent in her life, refusing to believe that either can transform as human beings, become different and then indifferent to each other. Childhood friendships must mature into adult romances erasing any possibility of metamorphosis and transformations that happen with age and experience, in which the woman can take any decision on her own only after being approved by her mother and seconded by the boyfriend. The new age man is thus a person who keeps a watchful eye on his girl from a distance, steps in at moments of danger which the new age girl, despite her independence is not supposed to be able to handle and resolve.

The film disallows women to grow up beyond their girlhood, make them protégés and wards of the men who love them, chain them with senses of commitment and images of caring selves when they wish to pursue their careers with the same seriousness as men and finally lock them indoors as helping hands of their mothers or as blissful beings in matrimony and childbirth. There has never been such an overt and shameless attempt at subverting a woman’s right to exist as a free citizen and an equal participant in public life as this film, Break Ke Baad.

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Bollywood-isation of the Hindi Formula Film – Changing Cinema For Changing Times

Today the Hindi commercial cinema is known as Bollywood rhymed with Hollywood, a name by which the American film industry is known. Hollywood is a neighbourhood in Los Angeles, in the state of California in the USA, which has a concentration of film studios and residences of directors, film stars, producers and writers. Bollywood, therefore is derived from Bombay, also to indicate a plethora of such film personalities who live in the city now called Mumbai. Similarly Kollywood means Kerala cinema, Tollywood means the essentially Bengali cinema produced out of studios of Kolkata that are mainly located in Tollygunje and Lollywood means Lahore cinema and so on. But the term Bollywood used for the Hindi commercial cinema has a few interesting connotations which takes into account some sweeping changes that have taken place in the Hindi commercial cinema ever since 1995, the release of Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge, a period that also corresponded to the opening up of the Indian economy to global markets which, in turn brought about a radical change in the nature of the Indian state and its policies towards its citizens. The predominant popular culture, namely the Hindi commercial cinema too changed and Bollywood became a new way of making, circulating and consuming the entertainment cinema produced out of Mumbai.

The main points of difference between the Hindi cinema and Bollywood is that while the former was consumed by a substantial portion of the underclass along with the middle class, Bollywood today is mainly consumed by the middle classes. Hindi cinema was famous for its appeal to the masses, the chavanni chhap, a term that indicated viewers who stamped the cheapest tickets at 25 paisa to sit in the front row; today’s Bollywood typically release in plush multiplexes serving expensive food stuff where the main profits come from selling popcorn than from the sale of tickets. The multiplex is an entire lifestyle with its food stalls, advertisement kiosks, American corn counters and uniformed staff, a veritable hospitality centre into which film watching is located. The film is ensconced in such an environment of being an out of reality experience. Bollywood films are sleeker with sensibilities to suit a social class that has not had to struggle for survival as the earlier social class of intended film viewers of the Hindi cinema were supposed to be. Bollywood’s intended viewers are persons who are already there but now has to belong to the class of the super powerful and the super rich. Bollywood’s intended viewers are those of the creamiest of the creamy layers of the society who have had an upward mobility from the upper middle class into that class of the corporate crorepatis where professional acumen wins enough money to translate into political power. While there was a time when film stars would join politics to encash on one’s popularity as a film star, today’s politicians seek Bollywood stars to strengthen legitimacy among the masses.

Further, Bollywood cinema concentrates now on designer homes, super expensive coffee shops, exotic tourist destinations, all in a way to promote a life style. Gone are the days when exotic locations were natural sceneries from various countries and lifestyles portrayed were often contrasts between the one that the protagonist had and the other that the villain possessed; usually modest for the former, and ostentatious for the latter. Wealth was looked down upon as something immoral and bad, probably because of the socialistic ethics that guided Indian politics ever since Independence to economic liberalization. But after economic liberalization, the abashment about opulence waned off and what came in its place was the pursuit of wealth as an indication of macho power. Leadership, nationalism, masculinity, power and wealth all rolled into the ideals of the middle class to pursue in the neo liberal politics in which corporate houses and state power confound while the media, also controlled by the corporate houses tries to produce a non critical consensus. Bollywood also reflects this ideology of consensus distracting audiences into issues around romance, friendship and fidelity. Since the time when Bollywood was born with the release of Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge in 1995, the genre itself has changed from the family where ageing parents were the unquestioned bosses into films of “different flavor” where individuals, often shown as rootless and alienated persons were the protagonists and thus dissociating the individual from the family and opening her to a further control by media generated ideals.

Apropos to the above, the media, namely the newspaper and the television has “lifestyle” exposures, with fashion, cookery, eating out, home furnishings with large supplements of film personalities thrown in. Celebrities also express their minds in forty character “tweets” in social networking sites, and those appear as marquee in the television news channels during Breaking News ! This is in sharp contrast to the earlier stars of the Hindi cinema where they led such sequestered lives that one had to spend days and even years trying to “catch” an interview with them. The value of Hindi film stars was in their invisibility beyond the frames of the cinema; today’s celebrities must be seen more in the outside world than as actors in cinema screens. The stars are seen at award functions, as hosts of reality television shows, as live endorsers of commercial products and brands and auction their company as dining companions of “ordinary men and women” for money ! They are also known to “sell” their statuses by being esteemed guests at wedding parties albeit at a huge price from the hosts. Sometimes, real estate companies have celebrities as neighbours to raise premiums. Film stars are now cookie points which you can buy if you have the money and move up the social ladder, the new form of Sankritization, a process by which people who had come into riches could buy their way into the upper caste by imitating their customs and rituals.

Bollywood is more technically intense, though it is definitely smaller in scale than the Hindi cinema. One cannot have a Mughal-e- Azam nor a Sholay, Bollywood has the money, the talent, the resources but no longer has the canvas of the mind that the makers of such large films had. There can no longer be the sacrifice of Mother India, nor the tragedy of Deewaar; there can never be a Meena Kumari in Kareena Kapoor, nor can Devdas be as in Shah Rukh as Dilip Kumar has been. Bollywood productions can be sleek and smart, but never with the passion of the Hindi cinema. Hindi cinema stars would read scripts for the emotions in them; Bollywood stars read the script to understand the attitude of the characters. This makes a huge difference in the scale, where Bollywood is about actors, while Hindi cinema was about stars. No wonder then the Bollywood actors are more of celebrities, by dint of familiarity of faces and a lifestyle of opulence, always creating a distance between them and wannabes of good life. The lifestyle of the celebrities are posited as ideals that people must follow, leading us to a path of consumerism and social competition often making us fall into the traps of debts by those very financiers who also lend to cinema.

A reckoning of a few remakes of Bollywood blockbusters will help us understand this problem better. Let us take the films Don (1978) and Don (2006). The former was a film starring Amitabh Bachchan in a double role. As Don, he was a lethal and merciless character; as Vijay he was simple and rustic. Don dies but the police officer wants to put Vijay in Don’s place so that he (Vijay) can play a Trojan Horse in Don’s gang and help the police to bust it. Don is then the figure, dangerous but absent while Vijay the simpleton has to impersonate him. The greatest idea of the film was to have Vijay “catch” Don as he continuously tries to emulate him and learn his manners. The entire film is based on a rhythm, the rhythm of the lead star, Amitabh Bachchan. The rhythm of Don is generated basically by Amitabh’s running away from his enemies and the police. There is a lot of running that Vijay does, from Roma who wants to kill him, the gang to know that he is a police decoy, the police who think that he is the real Don and metaphorically, Vijay too chases Don as an image as he tries to become the same man. This rhythm is replicated in Helen’s cabaret, in Roman’s dance and in the famous songs Main Hon Don and Khaike Paan Benarasiwallah. The film Don helped to explore Amitabh Bachchan’s “body” as a star and this went a long way in establishing him as the superstar that he was. The film also integrated the two aspects of Amitabh – one the cold, rational, calculative and strategic inaccessible man, and the other as a comic, light hearted simple soul into a single character. The music of Don was the binding factor that connected the frames, piece by piece into the totality of the film. The characters of Don supported the central character played by Amitabh Bachchan as Don and drew their distinct personas from being a part of the whole the whirled around the central but now absent character of the dead Don, thought to be alive. Kamal Kapoor as Narang, Pran as Jasjit, Satyen Kapoor as Inspector Verma, and above all Om Shivpuri as the smooth Interpol officer, Shetty as Shakaal, Mc Mohan as Ma, Helen as Kamini, Zeenat as Roma and Iftekar as the DSP, D’Silva are characters that are brilliantly etched in the mind as one recalls the film. But in the new version, these characters have nothing to define them.

The new film Don (2206) is made out of the “feelings” that one gets by watching Don; it is a viewer’s response to the original film. The director Farhan Akhtar is the new age director while its writer is his father and also as Javed Akhtar, one of the Salim-Javed duo who wrote the original Don. The new Don is an exercise in suavity, and serves to show how suave the actor Shah Rukh Khan has been, but unlike in the original Don in which the director establishes a core attribute, namely the body rhythm of the star, Amitabh Bachchan, in the new Don, the director tries to establish Shah Rukh Khan in a certain kind of attitude, smart, suave, elegant and yet ruthless. Since the new Don did nothing to the “body” of Shah Rukh Khan, its music failed to create any impact except appear as a remix. Besides, the music was the main stay of the original film, and its use by a later film without the images thrown up in a similar rhythm made the new Don fall a bit flat. Besides, the crux of Don lay in its music and beat; a beat that was centrifugal absorbing free floating episodes and characters into the centrality of form. The centrality of form emerged from the lead character Don, who commanded and controlled everything and had the power to do so.

In the new production, Don (2006), Don was played by Shah Rukh Khan. The image of Shah Rukh, unlike that of Amitabh Bachchan is not one who orders chaotic masses, not one whose power extends to bring things lying at the margins into the centrality of concern. The crux of Shah Rukh’s power does not lie in ordering or centralizing; his power lies in extending his will to areas beyond his reach. While Amitabh’s movement is from the outer to the inner, or strengthening an inner core to absorb more of the outside world into the inner core of his ideas of perfection, Shah Rukh’s movement is from the inner to the outer, restlessness that wants him to be everywhere and with everyone all the time. This makes Shah Rukh’s image one of panning out, becoming less dense and lighter as it spreads over progressively extended areas. The idea of Shah Rukh as Don is Don being physically present everywhere, while the idea of Amitabh as Don is to have a dense centre with his “men” working under his centralized command. When the Don indeed disguises as the taxi driver to kill the runaway Ramesh, in case of Amitabh, it becomes lethal because the great Don has unseated himself to deliver the fatal blow, but in case of Don as Shah Rukh Khan, it is not a shock because that’s how he generally is.

In Amitabh’s Don, Don had to die and Vijay had to find him. This is in tune with the essence of Amitabh’s image which transforms, breaks, dissolves and finds itself anew. Shah Rukh’s image is one of self-preservation, one who persists, prevails and pursues. Such an image knows no transformation and hence he could not pull off in his version of Don, the essence of Amitabh’s Don, of finding Don afresh through Vijay. Don (1978) was the rediscovery of Don through Vijay, an opportunity for revisitation. In Shah Rukh’s Don, it was to revel in the tricks of the original Don, who in the former version was already defined and set aside as if in a sanctum sanctorum, to be explored and investigated. The music of Don was born out of moments of the original version and hence fell flat in the later one. Farhan Akhtar wants to make yet another version of Don, only possible with the profanized image of Shah Rukh Khan as Don. In the original version with Amitabh Bachchan, Don was sacred, one who could not be repeated and one who no longer remained in the grips of the profane world to be manipulated or even be killed!

It is only obvious that the two versions made at two different points of time should express the ethos of their ages. In the original version, there is an attempt at control and command, a sense of individual agency, a finiteness of space and a connectedness of characters as if the film is a jigsaw puzzle, or a kaleidoscope where a strong and steady pattern forms each time out of the pieces. In the later versions, the character goes out and like Alice in Wonderland meets characters all of whom look warped and jaded as if in a Mad Hatter’s tea party. The difference in form indicates the changes in the politics of then and of now. The post liberalization age of India has been individuating, isolating given to competition and self gratification; it is an age when one has to run very hard just to stay in place. This age spells a huge crisis for the middle class for who the world has become fast moving and uncertain. The age before now was one of nationalism, with a leaning towards socialistic ideals when redistribution was a preferred to growth and when it was possible for the individual to negotiate and bargain with the powers that constrained him. In such a situation, the individual had more power to order the world according to an idea and this lent to cinema, a consistent form, a kind of closure and compactness where events came to their logical conclusion and everything contingent seemed to be able to be controlled and contained in the film as well as believed to be so in life.  Such a polity exuded the power of the institution which in turn gave the individual her power through her position as an incumbent in the institutions. Such a political economy notwithstanding various barriers to social mobility was nonetheless stable and the rules of its games unchanging and certain. The age as this was an age in which it made sense for the individual to dissolve herself and die as a martyr, seek self redemption through retribution and renunciation, because this was an age of preservation when individualism had a value and hence death also have one.

The political economy of liberalization on the other hand is a release of the constraints on the individual. The free reigns to private enterprises and private profits may seem to unbridle individualism yet it appears that everywhere neo-liberalism actually isolates and decentres the individual. This is because the State has given way to the market and the individual who used to define herself vis-à-vis the rather tangible constraints on her now finds herself anchorless. The loss of the tangible forces of the State and its institutions has given the individual a loss of her boundaries and as she seeks these boundaries she extends herself, expanding endlessly, losing her centre, her origins, floating away, sometimes without aim. This is exactly how Shah Rukh Khan appears as Don in a sharp contrast to the well defined, well-bounded and definitive image of Don essayed by Amitabh Bachchan. The difference in the two versions of Don tells us of two conditions of individualism between a nationtalist and socialistic system and a neoliberal polity.

We will now turn to Devdas (1955) and Devdas ( 2002), one in which the lead role is played by Dilip Kumar and the other in which Shah Rukh Khan plays Devdas. The differences between the two versions are glaring. The former is soft hued and soft spoken while the latter is loud and garish. Devdas portrayed by Dilip Kumar is a man who is tragic because he has nothing to mourn for; Devdas portrayed by Shah Rukh Khan seems to make an exhibition of his state and finds an occasion to mourn at everything. The latter’s sorrow rises when he sees Chunnibabu, or his family servant, or Chandramukhi. Shah Rukh’s Devdas is a man who has been bereaved. Dilip Kumar’s Devdas is a character who is moving about in a vacuum. Interestingly, Devdas of Dilip Kumar’s tragedy is drawn from the fact that all constraints have been removed from him because Paro, his beloved is married off to another man. In case of Shah Rukh Khan’s portrayal of Devdas, he mourns through a sense of still holding on to Paro. Relationships appear to be better defined in the earlier version and hence the sense of vacuum once such relationships dissolve. In the later versions, absence of Paro, is itself a relationship and hence Devdas, emerges from a vacuum into a definitive state through his pining for Paro. While Dilip Kumar’s portrayal could appeal to a society where relationships were firmly defined and hence the undoing of ties meant so much of a vacuum, Shah Rukh’s portrayal of Devdas happened in an age where individuals were relatively free from binding ties and at least craving for Paro became an anchor in the character’s life. While Dilip Kumar’s Devdas sank more and more into himself, becoming denser by the moment like a collapsed star moving towards a black hole that would son draw every moment of the film into the star persona, in Shah Rukh’s version, the star emerges above everyone else through his obsessive attachment to a woman who is not his. A much later production called Dev D, a modern reinterpretation of the almost mythical Devdas, the protagonist moves out of Paro, into Chandramukhi, finding in the latter, a new way of life and a new experience. In the above versions of Devdas, we find that in the former, the individual is defined through a web of relationships, the loss of which sinks him into a vacuum, while in the latter instance, the individual has no stable relationships and finds one to define himself with, namely that of his unfulfilled love, Paro.

There are also differences between how unrequited love is dealt with in the two ages. In the former case, unfulfilled love represented the greatest tragedy of the characters; in the latter period, it became a reason for obsessive behavior. Dilip Kumar in Devdas and Andaz, Raj Kapoor in Teesri Kasam, Waheeda Rahman in Khamoshi were characters who lost their loves. These tragic images contrast sharply with Shah Rukh Khan in Darr, Anjam and Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge and Imran Hashmi in Murder. The succinct sense of tragedy in the age of liberalization is replaced by unrequited love turning into an obsession. Clearly, the sorrow of the age of liberalization is no longer in relationships but in success or failure. Hence when Karz, a film made in 1980 was revisited by yet another film called Om Shanti Om in 2007, the character, unlike in Karz was less pained by his wife’s betrayal and instead felt humiliated because he was never given a chance to become a hero in films. The pain of neo-liberal cinema is not of relationships but of victory and defeat, where relationships are trophies to be savoured. This is why when Karz was remade in 2008 along the lines of the original film in 1980, it fell flat, because relationships no longer define individuals at present than what they used to do. The difference is due to the way individuals and the various constraints on them have been redefined in liberalization.

One of the greatest fall out of neo liberalism’s freeing of the individual from her ties that bind is the rise of Aamir Khan’s brand of films namely Taare Zameen Par and 3 Idiots where the pain of our times have been located and articulated, namely in success and failure. Both such films are about succeeding or not succeeding and the pains of failure. Similarly, in Chak De India, the protagonist, the hockey coach, once again played by Shah Rukh Khan is pained at not only failing to win the gold medal in the World Cup but also being branded as a minority. Failure to win and non performance constitutes his tragedy and not relationships.

The change in the nature of tragedy in cinema reflects the change in the priorities of the society. Indeed, not love nor passion drives people in neoliberalism, but the pursuit of success. This makes the entertainment cinema lose what we had always known as its formula. The formula of the Hindi cinema was about individual agency, efforts of the human beings to overcome their constraints and move towards their goals, the goals being defined by the large body of intertextually related works produced under the banner of commercial cinema from studios of Mumbai and Chennai. The fact of goals being defined and created by the interrelatedness of works towards which individuals must progress and thus insisting on a Hegelian linearity of character consistent protagonists of cinema can only be the formula of a society which is limited but certain in its outcomes. The Hindi cinema thus develops through its protagonist, a critique of the entrenched powers of the society and a theory of constraints that do not allow individuals to climb up social ladders despite the Constitution of Independent India mandating an open society with equal opportunities for all. Needless to say that the Hindi cinema was born out of the Freedom Struggle when the nation was imagined as a universal space in which individuals would exist as individuals beyond those socio-economic particularities of class, caste and creed that defined them and constrained their life chances. The individual was to become free under the aegis of a panoptic State and hence should fight her/his traditions that promoted superstitions, prejudices and preconceptions. The Hindi film critiqued the society from the standpoint of a rationalist, secular and humanist discourse with large supplements of socialistic ideals of equality and redistribution.

However, when economic liberalization took place, apropos to the neo-liberal State everywhere else in the world, the Indian State too was to withdraw as an economic presence and a moral force. It became corporatist in the sense that its expenditure had to be limited through its revenues and this resulted in a large scale and almost shrinking back of the State as a force that ordered the society and economy. Free enterprise, mindless pursuit of private gains and the collapse of institutions of welfare threw the individual into the open sea of ruthless competition. For a while, through the films of Sooraj Barjatya and Karan Johar, the cinema tried to set the large Indian joint family as a support system which very soon collapsed under the weight of a contrary Indian reality in which growing demands for increased income made families greedier and selfish. The formula of the family that survived on socialization and social bonding proved to be economically beyond bounds for most Indians in a system in which income inequalities were only increasing.

As the income gaps became wider and the ideology of equality and upward social mobility continued, there emerged a spate of imitative practices by which the lesser endowed classes in the society could “copy” styles of the better ones and hence disguise themselves as elites that they definitely were not. Soon, the insignia of fashion, perfumes, gaits, hairdo, perfumes and models of mobile phones became markers of social status which in turn helped people to find employment and develop contacts for businesses. The “showy” culture of the Indian society necessitated by the needs of the economic forces of its times pushed the cinema of Bollywood into becoming lifestyle statements. Films like Wake Up Sid, or Oye Lucky Oye and even Dev D explored emotions that were new to cinema but very relevant for the times in which we live.

The individual who apparently is free in a neoliberal State is unfortunately rather unfree because of the various uncertainties in employment and income that she faces. She has to always run in search of employment most of which do not last for more than a few years at best and a few months at least. This instability of employment and income has made the individual acquire a rather tentative self identity and self image; the decline of stardom is an outcome of the decline of a consistent self image of the individual. One of the greatest fall-out of the loss of character consistency is the collapse of the typical song and dance routine. Songs that for the Hindi cinema would emerge out of the story, articulating its moods and discourses have become “item numbers” in Bollywood, being used out of the context of the story and as an addendum more like a garnishing rather than the spices.

In today’s world there are no stable jobs and hence no assured income streams for individuals. Unlike in the days before liberalization, individuals looked for stability in employment, in today’s world; stability means stagnation and often stable poverty. Therefore, individuals would want to hit the jackpot, get huge chunks of money which would then be invested for good returns. The idea of speculative windfalls that can be translated into rental income and in all of this, there is little ends-means relationship of profits to work. The crux of modernity that was based upon returns to labour and which constituted the core of the Hindi film’s morality today makes way for “smarter” people, with supercilious manners and little sense of power of work. Hence Bollywood produces smart alecs, wit, suavity and evasive characters those who know how to manipulate, dodge and slip away; but as creators of social orders taking charge of one’s life they seem to have outlived their age. The characteristics that Bollywood seem to develop in direct contradiction to the constituents of a Hindi cinema formula is thus in response to the neoliberal state in a globalised economy that make nations based on socialism and equality things of the past.

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Media In A Liberalized Economy – A Watchdog or Perpetrator of Myths?

The modern world is witnessing a media revolution. Never before has human history seen such proliferation of investments across the world into television channels, advertisements and broadcasting. It appears that investing into a country’s media properties is lucrative business for global capital. Moreover, globally, the growth of media is higher than the growth of the GDP, which means that the media industry is among the faster growing sectors of the economy. In fact, the global growth of the media industry calculated as a compound annual rate of growth, henceforth the CARG is 6.6 %[1] and this is a contrast to the rather slower growth of world GDP at only 2.7% in 2007.[2] In India, the story is even better. The Times of India reported on the 12th of March, 2006, that the Indian entertainment and media industry is witnessing a phenomenal growth and is slated to grow at 19 per cent CARG to Rs 83,740 crore by 2010 from its current size of Rs 35,300 crore, according to a study by the Pricewaterhouse Coopers.[3] Given the rate of growth of GDP in India at about 8%, the growth in the media is certainly more than double.

What does the media explosion mean for us? On the positive side it means that democracy is taking roots almost universally, communication is addressing a wide variety of interests and the public space of communication is widening to include greater participation from people. But looked at closely, the picture appears suspect. The television channels and other related media activities like outdoor campaigns and radio broadcasting seems to be all doing pretty much the same things. If we observe the television channels or track the FM radio stations, or even scan the leading newspapers, we are struck by almost very similar kinds of news coverage. In deed, the views expressed by the various channels too are perceptively similar. This means that despite the multiplicity of channels we do not get competing and contesting interpretations. In other words, channels do not challenge one another in a battle of views but compete to out perform each other through standard programmes. Teleserials of scheming women, jokes, reality shows, quiz shows, sports and cookery and film gossip form most of what we know as entertainment. The news is invariably a one-sided view of promoting speculative investments, life styles or of political scandals and crime. A vast chunk of reality of technical knowledge, psychological counseling, crime detection, stresses of development, employment trends, assessment of government programmes, and social issues concerning women and minorities are left behind or never addressed at all. This trend is harmful for democracy because on the one hand we get channels that reaffirm a rather one-dimensional view of things and on the other hand the large number of channels crowd out those persons who have less money power to launch channels but may have alternative stories and genuinely educative programmes.

The other fall out of such media explosion is a competition for advertisements. Larger number of television channels put the advertisers in a better bargaining position vis-à-vis the channel owners and this leads to desire of monopolistic concentration among the channels. The liberalization of the FDI is used to increase money and hence monopoly power of the channel. Since channels due to competition among themselves produce only standardized programmes, there is hardly anything in each channel that would help viewers to choose one channel over the other; viewers’ preferences are thus directed towards the channel that provides the most audio-visual intensity. This promotes extravaganza in the television, which raises costs of production and yet at the same time empties the programme of sensitivity. In this way, packaging over content produces meaninglessness in television programmes, opening up the television space to monopoly and one-dimensionality.

The question that we ask here is why do the media all over the world express the same tendency towards one-dimensionality? The prime reason for this is that the television channels compete among themselves. Just as we try to read the same books as our classmates and write similar answers for our examinations in our desire to do well, the channels too try to do the same thing in order to be “selected” by the viewers’ remotes. Yet another possible reason behind this is that since the channels draw their sustenance from corporate advertisements they move in the same set of business houses over and over again. These business houses are eager that the television channels project their interests through the programmes. What are these corporate interests? These interests promote consumerism among the viewers. While promoting consumption of various products like consumer durables, cosmetics, apartments, mobile phones, snacks, fast food and even insurance, it is an absolute necessity that advertisers also covertly push messages and sponsor television content that specifically portray dazzling economies and a plethora of promising opportunities that support an economy and culture driven by consumerism.

Since most people purchase consumer durables like television, washing machines and even apartments through credit, either through the credit card companies or through the equated monthly installment schemes of the dealers, it is clear that these purchases are made on the anticipation of future income. The consumer, in order to be lured into buying these consumer durables must be made to believe that her income flow will not suffer in the future. It is for such reasons that stories that deal with factory closures, farmer suicides, shrinking employment growth, or even economic recession are pushed behind the camera and protests over land acquisition whether in Singur or Nandigram, or even the SEZ in Goa are constructed as a sabotage of this grand process of economic liberalization. In the case of consumer non-durables, or fast moving consumer goods, or FMCG, the pattern is even more sinister. Cosmetics and food items are portrayed as style statements and are projected as symptoms of your social worth. In case these statements influence your employer, it will be difficult to get employment if you do not put on lipstick or use particular brand of a body spray. The companies make crores of money on trying to cow you down into an image that will speak of your uncritical acceptance of the politics of the media imagery. The use of celebrity helps in this process because it somehow communicates to us the attributes we associate with our favorite celebrities into the brands thus advertised and lend legitimacy to these brands.

Mukesh Ambani’s wealth or the posh bungalows of Hollywood film stars that the new life style channels promote try to tell us how wonderful wealth is and how it must be pursued by all in order to find happiness. The use of celebrity images help making very specific instances appear as universally applicable rules and hence such display of celebrity wealth not only legitimizes greed but also communicates a message that such prosperity is achievable. These images form the basis for lifestyle politics where class is defined by what its members consume. Thus aspiring to consume, possess and command is the key to upward social mobility and possession charts form important ingredients of one’s social class and hence of social worth.

It is not as if the media does not help the case of democracy, but the only thing is that it should be sensational enough. Crime is sensational, but an inquiry into its sources is not. Political leaders are sensational, the scandals are sensational but investigation into why people vote for them is not. Even in such reporting, there is no attempt at trying to understand the root of crime, the reasons behind violence. While the media has indeed cried for justice and created in us a demand that people from the upper strata of the society too should fall to the hangman’s noose, and thus pandered to our instincts of social envy of the people who are better off than us, Santosh Singh and his father in this case. Was this story to be retold from the perspective of crime against women, the right that men feel that they have over women’s submission, the assumption that men make that women must acquiesce to their advances we would have developed a critical perspective into the way women are looked upon in our country. Such perspectives would have helped us deal with the mind set that kill fetuses, use technology to give birth to boys only and also make it difficult for women to participate in the work force. It is quite the same thing in case of the Jessica Lall case or even the Nitish Katara case; the roots of violence are not explored.

In the above paragraphs we assume that the viewers uncritically accept the media images that are beamed to them. While it is true that the several channels, despite the severalty communicate to us similar images and similar news content, yet there is an everyday life that people lead and when the images contradict the life, which is actually lived-in, there is a resistance. A classical instance of this is the defeat of the earlier government due to their propaganda of India shining, when the reality was all about locked out enterprises and the swell of unemployed youth in cities, towns and villages across the country. But the problem is that people tend to judge the real life as wrong and the contradictory image in the television as the right. This makes people imagine that they are worth more than what they are getting as their pay packets. Most IT companies hide the fact that the huge salaries are only for the slim percentage of the top brass, the vast bulge of middle level employees are as badly paid as anyone else. The image of the highly paid CEO is important in attracting the talent into the sector and the low salaries to the bulk of the employees are a strategy to get the best by paying the least. This leaves the employee of the middle rung wondering that she actually can earn more and keeps switching employment, depleting her provident funds and seniority. Were we to track the high incidence of mental agony and depression we could find significant connection between the television myths and the shocks of real lived in life. Chetan Bhagat’s novel, One Night @Call Centre illustrates this distress wonderfully. Bhagat writes that the call centre workers use all kinds of theories to explain their agonies but all feel that if they earn enough money that will end their exploitation little realizing that they will never earn the required amount of money because there are others who will earn more than them always.

There is yet another reason why the television channels in a collusive manner must push the hunky-dory stories of good times. If we look carefully into the media inflation we would find that it is far higher than the growth in incomes of its advertisers. If we take into account the growth of the manufacturing sector that has grown 12% over the last one year and the financial sector which has grown by 15% over the same period, we find that the growth of the media is still higher. The sales growth of the FMCG sector is 16%, while that of the infrastructure sector is 8%. The growth in the consumer durable sector is 15%. In all of these, we find that the rates of growth have remained lower than the growth rate in the media. Then where is the media drawing the extra growth over and above the usual growth trend among its advertisers from? There is one sector in which the growth has been astronomical – this is the real estate sector. It is possible that money from the real estate sector is flowing into the media companies, or the financiers of real estate also financing the media sector. Let us address ourselves to the fact that the growth in the media is higher than in the growth of its advertisers and in which case, there is a surplus growth in the media that has to be tracked. Could it be possible that much of the so-called revenues of the media companies only book entries and not actually realized payments? If this was to be the case, then the media companies could only gain by pushing stories of high growth, explosive opportunities and hopeful future so that the consumer demand keeps mounting. This is perhaps the principle reason why stories that may in any way puncture the perfect picture of bliss are to be avoided. If the real estates get involved into the media business as appears to be a possibility with DLF Universal, a leading real estate company of India that sponsored the Indian Premier League cricket, then it is all the more important for them to reinforce the impression that property prices will climb up due to the overall growth of incomes in the economy, so that their profits go higher and higher to finance the high growth rates of the media. In either case, there are sound economic reasons for the media to promote a world of lies that will cover the truth which is of rising income inequality and increased insecurity of livelihood and incomes all over the world.

The tendency of the media to survive on constructed truths than on empirical facts may lead to both national and personal disasters, a matter of serious concern for authorities and viewers alike.

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