Of Hazares and Tipping Points

When someone mentions Hazare, the first thing that pops to mind is Vijay Hazare and I instantly look up his stats on Cricinfo as I was not around when he was batting. When someone bbms me about Anna, I instantly think of Anna Kournikova for obvious reasons. When someone started mentioning Anna Hazare – I had to look him up. Admittedly, I was not aware of a Gandhian social activist named Anna Hazare so I quickly looked him up on Wikipedia (link – Anna Hazare). So here is this guy – 70 odd years old on a fast onto death in Delhi to get our fine Government to pass a bill which could make the corrupt politicians accountable and deter corruption in politics.

Once I read Hazare’s demands – I sorta laughed to myself. Did the old man really think that the Parliament where 30% of our MPs have criminal cases against them would pass a bill which would establish and empower an independent authority to bring them to book? India has a better chance of beating Brazil in a soccer match than that. Or so I thought.

Because then something I didn’t anticipate happened – Anna went viral. People were going on marches in as far away as San Diego in support of Anna. It is no longer about Anna – this almost-movement has become bigger than him – he is now a catalyst – merely the face of a bubbling national anger. So where does this anger stem from?

We Indians are a pretty tolerant people. You can double park and usually get away with it. You can run a red light and if the pandu stops you, you are fine with giving him 50 rupees. You would be hard pressed to see a car without minor dents and scratches in the city – we don’t even bother if someone bumps into the car. But when a drunk kid without a license runs over 4 homeless people, we get pissed. When a spoilt brat shoots a barmaid for not serving him a drink, we get pissed. That is a societal tipping point.

When it comes to corruption, we have been very tolerant. All of us know that no one contests elections in India to do good for society – most of them do it for the power, the prestige and above all for the money. That is not why we threw out the Brits and established the world’s largest republic. But hey – that is how things turned out and we were fine with it. But with each passing Lok Sabha – it seemed to just get worse. The last 2 years have been nothing short of insane. Tharoor was named in a scam which tainted our pride and joy – the IPL. Kalmadi and every official associated with a sport allegedly saw the Commonwealth Games as a God-given opportunity to milk the exchequer dry. And then there was the Raja. He didn’t take the cake – he walked away with the entire bakery. It was not the corruption that pissed us off – we kind of expect you to be corrupt. It was the scale of corruption that really riled us. $40 billion – 176,379 crore scam – Raja truly became a Raja – to put things in perspective, the net worth of Queen Elizabeth is about $500 million – 1/80^th of the amount that Raja tried to loot us of. And the British monarchy looted us for 200 years! The Raja managed to do more in less than one Lok Sabha term! The Commonwealth Games is supposed a more austere 8000 crore scam. You know what – if you guys had scammed some 20-25 crore each and done your job – no one would have cared. Heck, we tolerant Indians would have applauded you for a job well done. But you screwed up the Commonwealth Games and you tried to rob us blind with the 2G scam. Then we find out that the flights we take are not safe because governmental agencies have been issuing pilot licenses for a bribe. We also found out that the names of dead soldiers martyred in the Kargil war and their widows’ name had been used in the Adarsh scam to make a few more millions for a select few politicians and civil servants. In which country does such stuff happen? And all this without any tangible progress on the 26/11 probe – bravo!

Fact is that you had passed the tipping point a long time ago. Anna Hazare just became a catalyst which helped us unleash our angst and frustration at your so called-governance. Despite being caught with your neta dhotis down, you and your cronies brazenly appeared on various TV channels almost challenging us to do something about it. Guess what, we hope the chickens have come home to roost once and for all. Now you guys are pretty arrogant to think that if the old man dies – what he started might die with him. But if I were you, I wouldn’t bet on it. Like a civilized citizen, I will be protesting against you by showing solidarity at Azad Maidan and at Gateway of India – because that is the least I can do as a citizen. If more is required, I am not sure whether or not I will pick up the cudgels – but you netas better be hoping that I don’t for while I might not be Hazare, I sure am passed the tipping point.

The IPL Auction and Ostriches

 

Does politics mix with sports? Of course it does. England cancelled their South Africa tour due to SA refusing a man of African origin – Basil Oliveria from appearing for England. SA was suspended from the ICC for 21 years for its policy on apartheid. India refused to play SA in the Davis Cup final because of SA’s apartheid policies thereby letting go one of its only chances to win the ultimate team prize in Tennis. Zia and Rajiv Gandhi engaged in Cricket diplomacy to build bridges. Australia threatened to pull out of the Commonwealth realm and become a republic at the height of Bodyline. The following is perhaps the most iconic of images where Sport mixes with Politics –

 

Two African American athletes standing on the Olympic podium giving the Black salute showing their support for the Civil Rights Movement demanding equal rights for African Americans. The Aussie silver medalist wore an “Olympic Project for Human Rights” badge to show his support to his fellow medal winners. So yes – politics often mixes with sport.

 

So did politics mix with sport in the case of the IPL auction? Hell, yes. But did you actually expect anything else? Let’s admit it – Afridi as a T20 player is a better buy than Damien Martyn or even Mohammed Kaif – both whom were bid for. In my opinion it was extremely naïve of the Indian Govt. to agree to let the Pakistani players be part of the auction – but in a free market economy – under what criteria could they have refused? So this ostrich put its head in the sand and let the auction go on. The IPL commissioner is known to be a smart cookie – but what was he thinking when the base price for Afridi was set as the highest in the auction? My guess is – he assumed that someone would bid for some player – and if they did not – oh well, what could he possibly do? It’s a free market. The ostrich washed its hand off the whole thing. The people who own the IPL teams are astute businessmen and women and not tree-hugging Aman ki Asha types. If some right wing loonies did something due to the presence of Paki players; it would be skin off their noses and not anyone else’s. So can anyone actually blame them for NOT bidding? But the “Ostrich with its Head Deepest in the Sand” must go the Pakistani Cricket board. Err – did they actually expect someone to bid for their players in the currently charged political climate? Put yourself in their shoes – would you not see it coming?

Jaswant Singh’s Book and Indian Leaders

First up, it is pretty ballsy for a BJP member, let alone one its senior most leaders to write a book praising Jinnah and calling him “great” and “secular”. But then it is pretty ballsy for a matador to wave a red flag at a raging bull. Point being – being ballsy doesn’t equate to exercising common sense.

As a common Indian who had read a bit of history – do I think Jinnah was “great”? Definitely. Do I think he was “secular”? Possibly.

It is unfortunate that as a nation which has been independent for over 6 decades – we are still uncomfortable with our 20^th century history. Leaders are often always painted as saints or as demons. If only we saw them for what they were – humans – like you and I – with aims, ambitions, dimples and warts. George Washington had slaves – that does not diminish his greatness in the eyes of Americans – does it?

Fact of the matter is that Jinnah was a member of the Congress Party and a protégé of Gokhale. He was seen by the Congress leadership as The Ambassador of Hindu Muslim Unity. He was the next big thing in the Congress – a British educated and brilliant lawyer, an honest man and one who cared deeply about India’s independence from the British. But then a tectonic shift in the Congress took place – Gandhi came into the picture. He filled a very deep void in the independence movement – he became India’s first pan-national leader in the modern era. If you look at the situation today – barring perhaps Vajpayee – India still lacks one thanks to its diversity. Gandhi took the independence movement from the drawing rooms and country clubs of the Indian lawyers, doctors and gentry to the one who mattered most – the Indian peasant. He dressed like them, traveled in 3^rd class and almost invented a new form of secularism. Till then, secularism meant the separation of religion and state; Gandhi’s dose of secularism was all-inclusive – Eshwar-Allah tero naam. Jinnah hated the idea of using religion as a tool to awaken the masses – he wanted freedom for India through constitutional methods – like in the case of Canada and Australia. But Gandhi’s move was a master stroke – it worked like the proverbial charm and instead of a handful of resentful educated Indians – the British had an entire nation up against their rule. The side-effect of Gandhi’s success was that the entire Congress leadership became co-pilots at best and flight attendants at worst in India’s freedom movement. Jinnah had worked hard to be considered a top Indian leader – he did not like being upstaged by an upstart. Disillusioned, he quit the Congress.

 

This was nothing to do with the fact that Jinnah was Muslim. Anyone who disagreed with Gandhi’s method of attaining independence was routinely sidelined from the Congress. No better example than Subhash Chandra Bose who despite being elected the Congress President had to quit the post on Gandhi’s insistence. Nehru was a second-rung leader in India at that time – not in the same bracket as Gandhi, Jinnah or Patel. Gandhi wished to hand over the mantle of premiership to someone young who would ensure continuity and for all his flaws Nehru excelled at that role. Unlike the rest of the colonies which won their independence, Nehru conducted expensive, free and fair elections despite knowing that he would brook no opposition. This is his singularly greatest gift to India. Jinnah on the other hand, did what any political leader would do. He simply raised the issue of partition to create political space for himself and have a reasonably large population to represent. Muslims represented 30% of the Indian population – by asserting himself as their sole representative, he came to the political forefront once again. Our history textbooks do not highlight one fact – Jinnah agreed to a federal form of government where states within the Union would have reasonable independence – not too different from the United States. It was the Congress who rejected such an independent union – this is not an opinion – it is a well documented historical fact. Gandhi of course tried to avoid this – he actually asked Nehru and Patel to dissolve the Congress completely – his idea being that the Congress’ goal was to help achieve independence and now that the goal was attained – he did not see the Congress serving any purpose!

 

We have been taught that Nehru was a visionary leader and the architect of modern India – he built the IITs, IIMs, formed the Non-Aligned movement, ensured that India remained staunchly democratic – all this makes him a great leader. But does the Kashmir fiasco or the loss of war to China take away from his greatness of all he achieved? If not, would it not be hypocritical to take away Jinnah’s greatness simply because he called for the Direct Action Day? Jinnah would hate the Pakistan of today – he wanted a Pakistan which was secular and would have relations to India akin to those between Canada and US – free movement of trade and people; not the absolute international headache it has become now. He spent over 50 years of his life in Bombay and after helping found Pakistan wanted to settle down and retire in Bombay.

As Indians, we should be comfortable with our history – we love mixing myth and history and the result is usually exaggerated truths or outright lies which are espoused in our educational system. A majority of us were not even alive when the Partition took place – so shouldn’t we as Indians be at ease looking at what transpired all those decades ago objectively? None of the leaders in those days were either saints or demons – they were merely politicians – and ALL of them were a lot better than the idiots who sit in the Lok Sabha today.

Gandhi would have smiled

A peaceful march is held to protest against the abuse of executive power. There is no bloodshed. Officials serving the Government take part in the march. The power of the people triumphs at the Government has to lick its wounds and retreat. I could be talking about Mahatma Gandhi’s Salt March against the British. Except that I am not. I am talking about the lawyers’ march in Pakistan. Pakistan or Pakistanis have no love lost for Gandhi. They really revile Gandhi there. The man known as the Frontier Gandhi – Khan Abdul Gaffar Khan was a Pakistani Pathan from Peshawar and the only Pakistani to have received India’s highest civilian honor – the Bharat Ratna. The only other non-Indian to have received it is Nelson Mandela. He not only fought the British through non-violent methods, he spent a majority of his life in Pakistan under house-arrest for sticking to his Gandhian ideals of secularism and non-violence. When Gandhi was assassinated the condolence message from Jinnah called him, “Leader of Hindus” – not a leader of Indians, a leader of Hindus. Gandhi has managed to transcend boundaries with relative ease – ask the followers of Martin Luther King Jr., Nelson Mandela or the Dalai Lama. But I never imagined that he would cross the LoC and enter into Pakistan. Of course, the Pakistanis will be reluctant to admit it. But the fact of the matter is that it was not bombs and threats, it was not bloodshed and terror – it was just a simple, peaceful march which has been a red letter day in their history. The last couple years’ news has been – deals with militants, Good Taliban-Bad Taliban gibberish, coups, counter-coups, gags on media, gags on judiciary, political assassinations, terror attacks in Bombay, terror attacks in London, terror attacks in Pakistan on Sri Lankan cricketers. Did I skip out anything? Yea – nuclear proliferation to states like Libya, North Korea and Iran. So a peace march sticks out like a sore thumb.

Jinnah had a penchant for the Direct Action Day – where he called upon the Muslims of the subcontinent to wage civil war for their homeland. He got what he wanted – India was partitioned with a Pakistani state on either side of her. Of course Jinnah wanted the whole of Punjab and the whole of Bengal as Muslim majority provinces – which were denied to him. He then had the rather absurd idea of asking the British to give him a corridor connecting the two wings of Pakistan – apparently the corridor would include “Mughal” cities like Delhi, Agra and Lucknow. So while he did not get all that he wanted, he got a country all by himself which is commendable to say the least – let’s give the devil his due. How many people in history actually demand a country and get it?

When India got its independence Gandhi wasn’t in Delhi celebrating the victory of which he was the main architect. He was in Noakhali in East Pakistan putting his life on the line trying to stop Hindu Muslim riots. Of course this peace march could be but a flash in the pan. The hydra headed Frankenstein comes in many forms – the ISI, Lashkar-e-Toiba, Jammat-ud-Dawa etc. and all of these are laughably removed from any Gandhian notions or beliefs. Pakistan will never be at peace with India till it accepts India not as a country but as a civilization which it too shares. Just like Indians are as proud of Akbar as they are of Asoka, Pakistan too will have to be comfortable in its Indian past before it settles into its Pakistani present and future.

But this week was probably the finest day in Pakistan’s history. And it was not achieved through bombs or wars, not through burning American or Indian flags, not chanting slogans about a religion and not through a Direct Action Day. It was a peace march. Hence, Gandhi would have smiled.

Ballads of India; on cloth

There is something regal about Rajasthan that makes it a perfect setting for discussing and understanding myths. The sands of the desert state are soaked in blood – but it is blood which nurtures tales of heroism and valor,  of romance and grandeur. If Jaisalmer seemed like something out of the Arabian Nights, then Jaipur reflected the yin and yang of India – ancient palaces with wi-fi spots, men in traditional attire munching on the Maharaja Mac at McDonalds. It was here that I attended Mantles of Myth – Narratives in Indian Textiles. 

If the homogeneity of Europe is a Renoir painting and the complications of the US are best reflected in the Cubic art of Picasso, then India to me is a vibrant Jackson Pollock. In his own words, “When I am in my painting, I’m not aware of what I’m doing. It is only after a sort of ‘get acquainted’ period that I see what I have been about. I have no fear of making changes, destroying the image, etc., because the painting has a life of its own. I try to let it come through. It is only when I lose contact with the painting that the result is a mess. Otherwise there is pure harmony, an easy give and take, and the painting comes out well.” He might as well have been talking about my relationship with India.

Below is an example of all 3 –

The Renoir is “Girls on a piano” – a beautiful painting. You can only but gawk at its beauty. The Picasso is “Massacre in Korea” – a strong political statement if there ever was one. And here is a Pollock.

There is no political message and there is no beautiful girl. You can interpret it any way you like. Every color and every drip tells a story. It could be a happy story or a sad one. It could be one of valor or one of cowardice. Every part of India similarly has a story to tell – and each of these stories could be a drip in a Pollock painting.

The red could be tales from the Punjab – tales of the Phulkari. Another drip could the woven narratives from the North-East – a part of India which we do not generally associate with the country itself – the North East is almost an afterthought of India best captured by Nehru’s famous “My heart goes out to the people of Assam” speech during the 1962 war with China when Nehru and his parliament literally abandoned the North East, almost inviting the Chinese to take over. But the narratives from that part of India are just as important and just as relevant to the mosaic that India is. Yet another drip could be the presentation made by Wendell Rodricks – on the Pano Bhaju – reflecting how the attire of Goa reflected it all – the inquisition and forced conversions of the Portuguese, the resistance of the Indians and ploys of circumventing strict edicts. Then there was the narrative of Khadi – a quintessential Indian story of passive resistance and of Gandhi.

The only hiccup was a certain Dipankar Gupta who shared the stage with Lord Meghnad Desai and insisted that the geographical extent of India was defined by the narrative of the Partition in 1947. Perhaps he did not know that there is no one defining narrative which can characterize India – the modern nation state that it is. There are the narratives of Sikkim and Pondicherry, of Junagadh and Hyderbad and indeed that of Kashmir. But perhaps he was looking at only one drip.

One narrative which surprisingly slipped under the radar was the narrative told by the blue drip. The blue drip cuts across the entire painting that is India – cutting through the plains of the Punjab and the deserts of Rajasthan all the way down to the shores of Kanyakumari. It binds the various castes and creeds, both the sexes and diverse sexual orientations, the various religions and differences adroitly bridging the gap urban and rural India and linking the British past of India to its independent and chequered future and it is what truly defines the India that I know of. The blue drip tells the narrative of the Men in Blue and thus that of the Indian cricket team. On the last day of the festival – Tendulkar spoke – not in Jaipur but in Chennai but his words echoed in every corner of India. The test-match told the story of India like no other narrative – an India which was on the defensive for 9/10ths of the match, a country still shell-shocked by terrorist attacks in Bombay but trying to maintain its balance amidst the ruins. While I was trying my best to pay attention to the narratives being spouted about the various parts of India; my mind was on that narrative being recited in Chennai – the wi-fi connection on my cell-phone rapidly draining my battery. The last sentence of the Indian narrative was a four down the leg-side that brought up one of India’s greatest victories in matches – and the rendition of the Indian narrative was complete. It was the narrative of a country feeling crestfallen but coming back from the brink like it often does to shock and awe. It was the narrative that binds me to the Tamil speaking waiter who serves me dosa to the chauvinistic Punjabi from Delhi spoiling for a fight in a bar; from the Tagore loving Bengali of Calcutta to the head-banging rock aficionado from Meghalaya, from the Oriya cabbie to the pot-smoking, affluent Parsi. It is the narrative of that blue uniform – that to me is what defines the India I grew up in. Gandhi once said, “The truest test of civilization, culture and dignity is character, not clothing.” The narrative recited by Tendulkar that evening merely reiterated that great point.

The Gunga-Din syndrome

It’s been almost 3 weeks since the carnage in Bombay. Has much changed? For starters, the pubs and clubs are empty and the security at the 5-star hotels would probably rival Fort Knox. But what about India? What exactly have our great leaders been upto? Dancing. I am not kidding you – the news channels were replete with footage of workers of various political parties dancing on the streets and bursting firecrackers as 5 states went to the polls. The dancing cut across party lines – the right wing Hindu party workers danced in 2 states and the self-appointed secular party workers danced in 3 others. Public memory is short but it certainly doesn’t suffer from short-term amnesia. The amount they spent on the bloody fireworks could have potentially bought atleast 1 contemparary firearm for the cops at one of the railway stations. They will have to protect us citizenry with wooden sticks and vintage WW-2 rifles for now.

My question remains – what is India waiting for? I am not a tree-hugging left-wing peacenik like an Arundhati Roy and her ilk who would roam around in unironed khadi clothes and always talk about the futility of war and violence. Neither am I a hate-mongering right-wing Hindu maniac like Togadia and his ilk who distribute tridents and think that they are the sole defenders of India and the Hindu way of life. I am just a regular Indian – who enjoys his cricket, reading, traveling and coffee. Your typical middle-of-the-road guy. Thankfully, I don’t suffer from short-term amnesia and I certainly haven’t forgotten the events of Mumbai on 26/11. I want to feel safe in my country.

So what are we waiting for? We should launch military strikes against Pakistan. NOW. This is not about my religion or about my abhorrence of violence.  The “non-state actors” as President Zardari of Pakistan are Pakistani citizens who are baying for my blood. And what is my solution? I talk to them? Err – what has talking gotten us so far? Deaths of Indian citizens? Every attack seems to get more deadly. The problem in Pakistan seems to be that the military operates with such a free rein that the civilian leadership is rendered impotent. So what is the  Indian citizen supposed to do? Wait for Pakistan to get its act in order over the next 200 years so that we can finally have peace in the region? Perhaps the “non-state actors” with deep connections in the Pakistani military get their hands on a missile and a nuclear warhead – and they launch it on Indian soil – what then? Is the Govt. of Pakistan absolved of it – simply because it is too incompetent to handle its own forces or citizens? I know what we would do then. We would ask the Americans to defuse the tensions.  Their British lapdogs will make the same noises and aid the Americans. Then we will try getting the peace process back on track till it is derailed with a few more nukes on Indian soil.

Why do we need to seek America’s permission to secure the lives of our own countrymen? You have to see the 1939 movie – Gunga Din – to know the answer. If you can’t find it – ask me – I shall lend you a copy. It is the story of an Indian water-bearer in the British Indian Army who will do anything to appease his British masters and be recognized as “soldier”. The British treat him like dirt and order him around and he is shown as a complete buffoon. The villain of the movie is an Indian guru who wants to fight the British and cites the example of Chandragupt Maurya. Gunga Din – still treated like absolute filth – decides he will help the British and plays a decisive role in making sure that the British win and the Empire lives on. Of course he pays for it – err – with his life. But the British live on and the sun never sets on the British Empire.  His heroism is finally recognized by the British who are always so gracious and reward him by making him an “honorary soldier”.  And a little ode is added by the British General at the end

“Tho’ I’ve belted you and flayed you, By the livin’ Gawd that made you, You’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din!”

Unfortunately 60 years after independence the Gunga-Din Syndrome lives on. The Indian life is expendable to make sure that the epicenter of world terror – Pakistan – puts all in efforts in making sure that no terror attacks happen on American or British soil. The condolences will pour in like the ode and our leaders will have appeased the Americans and the British through strict adherence to the  Gunga Din syndrome.  Correct me if I am wrong – but we have elected our Home Minister and Defense Minister – to protect Indian lives at all costs and not to entertain Condi Rice and send demarches to the Pakistan High Commission. The terrorists are still going to attack us and kill us  – and the Gunga-Dins in the Indian Parliament will continue to appease their masters on the global stage. So I say – just attack them – not in the name of religion – attack them because they are killing the people you were elected to protect. During the last full-fledged war in 1971 – it took India all of 17 days to split Pakistan into 2. The Pakistani troops – 91,000 of them surrendered unconditionally – the biggest surrender since WW-2. A few weeks of war is better than living in the shadow of war for years. Yea, Pakistan has nukes and so does India. India has a formal stated policy in place – no first use of nuclear weapons. It is only a matter of time before some “non-state actors” get their hands on a nuke in Pakistan and decide to launch it. It is then that there will be truly mayhem. Ah – if not the Gunga-Din Syndrome.

The Taj

You grow up loving a city. It is the city where you where you were born. It is the city you went to school in. It is the city where you made your first and best friends in. It’s where you had your first beer and where you learned to love the sport of Cricket. You went afar – lived abroad for close to a decade and you came back. You didn’t really feel that you were away. There were malls now and bowling alleys. You no longer had to fly to Bangkok to shop. But most of it hadn’t changed. The Ganesh festival still was celebrated with the same fervor and post of the national Cricket Captain was debated more furiously than that of the Prime Minister. You no longer saw gum boots being worn by little children but the floods remained when the monsoons unleashed their fury.

I remember my Dad taking my sister and I to the Cake Shop in the Taj after we finished our tennis coaching at MSLTA. I always had a pastry and packed a bag of chocolate cookies. As an 8-year-old I felt hyper excited when my dad thought I was old enough to be taken for a haircut to Taj – it’s been 20 years – but I still remember the hairdresser – his name was Ahmed and I continued to go to him till I was 11. Somewhere along the line, I changed preferences. I really don’t remember why.

It was and still is a magnificent structure by any standard. It’s been an ode to Indian defiance – Jamshetji Tata built it as India’s first 5-star hotel when he was refused entry into Watson’s as it was “White Only.” It was the first image of India visitors had when they arrived in the bygone era of steamers. It was the final image of India that the last British troops took with them once India became independent and they departed from the opposing Gateway of India.

For the last 2 days I have seen it burn, bombarded and shot at. Despite being there many times as an adult, I thought of my childhood. I wondered if Ahmed still worked there – probably not. But perhaps an excited 8 year old was in there enjoying his first haircut. Perhaps there was a little kid with his entire family at the Cake Shop – enjoying his pastries and cookies. I felt a glut of emotions – shock, dismay, anger. As news of kids and women being killed trickled in – I wondered what actually drives such mayhem in those terrorists? What could possibly motivate you enough to kill a child? Where’s the bravery in being armed to the teeth and shooting innocent people?

Everytime a calamity strikes Bombay – either natural or man-made – the same words are applied – resilient – bounce back – the works. But why would I want to bounce back or be resilient? I have always admired the values of non-violence and peace – and mostly subscribed to them. But perhaps embracing the views of Gandhi, Buddha or Asoka are not enough. Why should I just forget about innocent lives lost and continue my life as if nothing had happened? Why should I forgive and forget the people who burnt away a part of my childhood? I can’t imagine any country in the world NOT doing ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING about terror strikes on its land. What would the USA have done? What would Israel have done? What would China have done? Heck, I am sure even Bhutan or Burkina Faso or East Timor wouldn’t have taken it lying down. Will the buffoons in the Lok Sabha ever grow the balls to do anything? Is this the final straw which broke the camel’s back? I doubt it. 10 years from now – another iconic edifice of Bombay will be burning and some other sentimental fool would be blogging on whatever is the latest fad then. I would just loveeeee to be proved wrong but I know it isn’t gonna happen. Ever.

Terrorist Attacks in Bombay

1942 Redux – Gateway of India

I’ve always wondered what it would have been like to be in India in 1942 when Gandhi launched his famous “Quit India” movement which pretty much nailed the coffin on the British Raj in India.  He had launched it in Bombay in what literally translates to the August Revolution Park. Today, on Dec 3 2008 I got a glimpse of what it must have been like. The irony lies in the differences. In 1942, India had been dragged into a war which was not its war by any stretch of imagination – World War 2. It contributed the largest all-volunteer force in the history of manking – 2.5 million people. In 2008, I saw an India itching to go to war which was completely its own to fight. This time it was the new Superpower which was urging India NOT to fight its own war.

In 1927, the British in their infinite Imperial wisdom decided to send in a commission informally called the Simon Commission to grant more rights to Indian subjects of the Empire. Considering the commission did not include a single Indian, it was greeted with placards saying “SIMON GO BACK”.  I am unsure if the yuppies knew the historical background of this incident but I did see a sign today at the Gateway which read “SIMON COME BACK”. You know our political leaders’ public perception has hit rock bottom when Indian citizens insinuate that they were better off under the guys who carried out the Jallianwala Bagh massacre  at Amritsar and who orchestrated the death by starvation of 3 million Indians in 1943 to feed British soldiers. To put it in perspective, it is like Israelis being so fed up of the inaction of their Government that they hold rallies stating that they were better of under the Nazi regime.

Should our political class be worried? If they should, then they certainly arent’ showing it. One gaffe after another seems to pop up. The State Home Minister states that “It is a big city and such small incidents can happen”. The State Chief Minister takes around a Bollywood director reknowned or reviled (take your pick) for making realistic cinema to the Taj Mahal Hotel to look at the damage. The Chief Minister of Kerala likens the father of a slain soldier to a dog for not letting him in and the Muslim poster-boy of a right-wing Hindu party suggests that women in Bombay are embracing western values by using makeup and then making a show by protesting.  That would explain the “Simon Come Back” bit.

With their stupid caste and religion based vote-bank politics, the political parties of India think they are highly insulated from the ire of the urban voter who makes but a small percentage of the general Indian population. Indeed, even as the Chief Minister in Bombay has resigned – the bickering in the New Delhi power corridors over his chosen successor is because of caste and not capability.  What these senile old fools who call themselves our leaders forget is that almost all tectonic shifts in Indian fortunes over the years invariably have a Bombay connection. Industrialists like Tata, Ambani, Birlas are based out of Bombay and so is Bollywood with its ability to permeate every Indian household. Not all rosy things come out of Bombay – organized crime being the least rosy of the lot. My point is that what happens in Bombay permeates into the rest of the country rather quickly – through its liberal media mainly and also because every middle-class Indian household has a relative in Bombay. Bombay is a sponge which absorbs all – the good and the bad. But once in a while, the sponge needs to be wringed clean. Today was the day.

I’ve seen the Bombay bomb blasts and riots in 1992-93 as a little kid. I did see the deluge in July 2006. You could see that people weren’t happy with the response of the civic administration back then. Apathy is often worse than collusion. November 2008 was the straw which broke the camel’s back. I was expecting about 20,000 odd people today at the Gateway of India.  There were easily more than 300,000. And most of them were young. They were not Indians who grew up in the days of 2 state-run TV channels or suffer from a colonial hangover. They are exposed to media 24×7, travel abroad far more frequently and see how civic administration function elsewhere. The terrorists have AK-47 machine guns and Indian cops had wooden sticks and some had vintage WW-2 rifles.  The bullet proof jackets were not

bullet proof after all and weighed 15 kgs. 2 warnings about impending terrorist attacks on sea-front hotels in Bombay had been ignored.

Honestly who can blame the people for venting against their elected representatives? One does not mind them being corrupt as far as they get the job done. The average Indian has accepted corruption as a way of life. The cop who takes a bribe still does direct traffic. The postman who takes a baksheesh still delivers mail. The elected leaders of this country seem to think that their raison d’etre of being elected is to make money and not to govern.

Gateway of India - November 2008

As corporate entities and common citizens of Bombay unite against our elected representatives – whose apathy is worse than the terrorism of the militants I just hope the day doesn’t come when I – an avowed anti-Brit too says, “Come Back Simon”.