The cruelty in Jungles and Television studios: our response to the Maoist attack

Maoist attacked a convoy of political workers in south Chhattisgarh and killed 27 people including security personnel. There are no reports of casualties on the other side. Newspaper reports give description of courageous fight put up by personal security officers of various political leaders. They fought till their ammunition lasted. And then some of them shot themselves with the last bullet  (before saying goodbye to their masters). The prominent people killed in this incident were top congress leaders of Chhattisgarh, one of them being Shri Mahendra Karma, the architect of Salwa Judum, a state back vigilante group, which was recently banned by Supreme Court. The state was suppose to disband Salwa Judum, but reports suggest that instead they renamed it to ‘special police officers’ and then to ‘Chhattisgarh auxiliary force’, just like Lashkar e Taiba was renamed to Jamat ud Dawa. I am not comparing Chhattisgarh auxiliary force with LeT, but comparing the disbanding exercise taken up by the Indian and Pakistani (and probably other) states.

The incident no doubt was cruel and has been condemned across the board. But an equally cruel event is happening in the form of newsroom debates since then. Nobody seems to see the cruelty of these debates. I am calling these debates cruel because that is how it would seem to the tribal in Chhattisgarh or even the CRPF soldier who is posted there. The sheer indifference towards the ground realities mixed with the intoxication of arrogance make them cruel. But the real cruelty lies in the background of these debates. The sheer pressure of advertisement slots which these prime time shows face, forces the ‘poor’ anchor to interrupt, cut short and hastily paraphrase the discussion because he has to give way to a company trying to sell its product. In the end the one message which goes across is that to sell colas, soaps, diapers, fairness creams etc is more important than your problem. This is a cruel joke. This is cruelty at its glamorous best (which makes it of worst kind).

Why can’t there be an uninterrupted television debate, where the speakers are allowed to complete their point? I am sure, a debate of such kind will not lead to bankruptcy of the channel. I am sure the channels have enough scope to allow for uninterrupted debates occasionally.

This is not the only reason for which I am calling these debates cruel. They are cruel for other reasons too. A clear message has been sent out by the ‘beholders’ of Indian state who are part of the debate- the politicians, the academicians and the retired police officers, that either you are with the state or you are against it. If you are with the state, it will be assumed that you are with democracy and its principles, otherwise you are against them. It is much like George Bush declaring to the world after 9/11, that either you are with us or against us. There is no other choice. I find this choice (or the lack of it) as cruel and as a citizen I refuse to be part of it. Why can’t I be for democratic principles yet critical of states’ structural violence on tribals? Or why can’t I be critical of Maoist violence, yet endorse their cause?

The cruelty of the situation is that the tribal has been forced to choose between the Indian state and the Maoist (they both outdo each other from time to time on who can be more violent). It’s a similar situation of the Indian voter who is left to choose between the either the Congress or the BJP (and their likes), while they both outperform each other on corruption. I refuse to be called a Congresi or RSSwala or a leftist or a rightist, only because I voted for one of them. The lack of real choice in front of the tribal and our refusal to acknowledge it, is cruel.

The issue in the Jungles of central India is not development (or the lack of it). The real issue is Justice. The Maoist gained popularity not because the tribals understood what Mao said and agreed with him. They became popular not because the tribals were wanting the modern form of development (roads, schools, hospitals etc), and the state could not provide it to them in last 60-70 years. The Maoist got support because they could hold the sarkari forest officer, the sarkari police officer by the collar and ask them to get out of the village. The forest department and the police department became synonymous with injustice and cruelty,  which no one could do anything about. That vacuum was filled by the Maoist (who were in fact Naxalites that time). Today both the state and the Maoist have become symbols of injustice and cruelty, and so there is an opportunity for some third entity to step in and fill the vacuum.

The state is now thinking of going all out after the Maoists, but does the state know who the Maoists are? Can the state differentiate between the Maoist and the tribal? Or will the state bulldoze everything and everyone that comes its way and then call some of them as Maoists and rest as collateral damage? To term innocent deaths as collateral damage is cruel, and both the state as well as the Maoists are guilty of it. People are not collateral. At best buildings and other structures can be.  To term people as collateral is cruel.

The fear is that more troops will be sent in now (this will be in addition to the already present 30000 odd troops). This will lead to further violence (killing and displacement of people).  A teacher once said, if you pitch violence against violence, then the more violent one will be the winner. The debaters have somehow missed this simple point. If the Indian state says it is going for a military intervention to ensure peace, it essentially means a far greater violence is about to be committed. The peace (if reached) that would come out of it would be soaked in blood.

The challenge before talks

Are talks the way forward? I am afraid at this point even that doesn’t appear to be the case. The talks face two fundamental roadblocks, and unless they are first cleared the talks will lead nowhere. The academia has a role to play in removal of these roadblocks. The first road block is that the Maoists believe that in principal no real change is possible without violence. This is a slight deviation from the Marxist view that just ends would justify the unjust means. This theory needs to be challenged by the academicians of the country. There are people who strongly believe that means and ends are inter-twined and cannot be separated. These people can fill the vacuum.

The second roadblock is that the Indian state does not seem to have any long term vision for the country. What should India ought to be say 50 years or 100 years from now? Is there any comprehensive vision towards which we are moving? The current visions are not only short term, but also full of contradictions. The state wants development on one hand, but on the other hand this development model is a major cause injustice. India has world’s largest population of ‘internal refugees’ or people who have been displaced from their lands in their own country. This development model is the single most reason for pollution of our rivers, destruction of our forests and ridiculing of our belief systems. Is there a vision of a development which is socially just, environmentally sustainable and culturally self believing? There seems no evidence of it. The India academia have an important role to play. Our development and our revolutions cannot be on the basis of borrowed theories.

Unless these roadblocks are cleared, the talks will not get us anywhere. Or in other words, some theoretical homework is needed prior to talks. For now the talks can’t even lead to a commitment of total abjuring of violence. The talks at this stage can at best hope to suspension of violence, where in both the Maoists and the state will prepare for future violence with more sophisticated tactics and arms.

Harsh Satya

Centre for Exact Humanities

IIIT-H

29^th May, 2013

Dharampal and beyond: Sadharanikaran, Samaaj and Itihasa....(incomplete)

                                                                                                         

I heard about Dharampal ji for the first time in 2006 during my stay in SIDH, Mussoorie. Pawan ji was addressing a group of Engineering students from Raipur. As a volunteer with SIDH, I was playing to local guide for this group. I was also new to SIDH then, and therefore it was an oppurtunity for me to learn about it- their world view, their work, their contacts in surrounding villages, while I hosted the group from Raipur Engineering College. I and Raj (an NRI volunteer at SIDH), along with Jitendra bhai and Jagmohan ji had planned the itinery. The first 2 days were reserved for sessions with Pawan ji, which would give a broad outline of SIDH's vision. After this, we had planned a few days of trekking to near by villages, to see some SIDH schools (SIDH in those days had schools running in around 18 villages in the adjoining hills).

The team from Raipur had come with Hina ji and Sandeep (an old friend). Both were part of the Human Values program in the college that time, which was an initiative of a local organization called Abhyudaya Sansthan. The Sansthan, mainly under the facilitation of Somdev Tyagi ji used to organize 8 day Jeevan Vidya workshops for engineering students. This workshop played a complementary role to Human Values classes that were regularly conducted by Hina ji and Sandeep in the college. A field trip to SIDH for some selected students was planned under this effort. I think the objective was to give a direct exposure of rural life and SIDH's initiative in the field of education. Since Human Values and Jeevan Vidya, primarily focusses on the need to reform education, SIDH's work perhaps came closest to their approach that time. There was also mutual respect and admiration shared between SIDH and Abhyudaya sansthan in those days.

My landing in SIDH had happened only a month ago, again the common thread being a JV workshop. I had attended one the previous year in 2005. JV was perhaps the only exposure I had then (though I did also had some surfacial understanding of Gandhi then). As a young Engineer myself, I had basically two convictions that time- rural India is the place to be in and education is the work to get engaged with. For some reason I beleived that rural India is undergoing a more exciting change as compared to the urban areas. SIDH was ofcourse a very exciting place in those days. It was a place where an urban youth like myself could work with rural youth- that formed the the SIDH team. It had an exciting team then- Jitendra Sharma, Jagmohan Kathait, Rajesh Bahuguna, Manju, Siya Singh Chauhan, Shobhan Singh Negi to name a few. All of them were rural youth and for me it was refreshing as well as reassuring to see the quality of teaching they brought with themselves. My schooling was from one of the best schools of Delhi, and the young teachers at SIDH were of comparable quality to the teachers I had in my school. In addition to them, urban (and sometimes non residential) volunteers like Raj and Sumati made the team of high quality.

There must be many reasons for SIDH to be able to achieve such a quality of teachers and volunteers, but I think the fundamental reason being the beleif that rural India had the potential to produce quality people. It had the potential to produce quality people in native language and in native work environment. There was a beleif that rural talent is immense and it can blossom in a rural set up. It does not need an urban set up, a 'global' anglicized exposure to stand tall. Pawan ji and Anuradha ji, the couple who started SIDH in 1989, had this beleif and were successfully able to transfer it to these young teachers.

For people like me, seeing SIDH's beleif and its acheivements was a releif. I on one hand had romanticized the Indian village (perhaps due to influence of my father), but on the other hand was still struggling with the 'Mother India' (a bollywood film) image of our villages- a place of curse, exploitation and bankruptcy of all kinds. Growing up in IIT-Delhi (both my parents were faculty members there), and studying in one of the most elite schools the city had, I had naturally come to beleive that if there is anything which is worth in India, it exists only in South Delhi or South Mumbai. The rest of India (even rest of Delhi) constitutes of people who are not worth talking to, worth engaging with. And like many 'sensitive' urban youth, I beleived the only form of engagement with the rest of India can be where we would extend an helping hand to them.

This image of rural India was directly being confronted by another image which was given to me by my father, my mother and one of my uncle (Ransingh Arya). They presented to me by their direct example an image of a villager who had the capability of fathom the West. They would critique the West and put their hope in Indian villages. It's interesting to mention here, all three of them, were not taken very seriously by rest of my family. All my uncles were of the same background as my parents and Ransingh ji. They too had spent their childhood in villages, helping their parents in agriculture, going to the most humble schools and working hard to find a place in urban cities. But they sharply disagreed with the world view of my parents. For them, the village was a desolate place and West was a dream worth chasing. For them, coming out of village and settling down in urban cities was a hard earned product and anyone talking about going back to the villages seemed threatening. Although they all had respect for my parents (for what they had acheived in life), but they also felt threatened at some level. I guess this was the reason why some of them very cautiously kept away their children (my cousins) away from my father- for they should not get 'corrupt' listening to him. I do remember, two of my elder cousins in their college days getting influenced with my father. Of and on they used to debate with him on issues of philosophy, modernity, Gandhi, tradition etc. I think they were like any other college going students then, who were not scared of exploring alternate and dangerous territories. But just as college gets over, and one gets into earning a livelihood and finding one's growth in one's career, one is forced to join the flow of zamana and feel apprehensive to step out. I beleive for my uncles it must have been a sigh of releif to not see their sons stepping out.

I on the other hand had no place to go. I on the other hand did not had to carry the apprehension of my parents towards stepping out. I on the other hand did not had to carry the aspirations of going westward. I felt the freedom to ride on two boats- one which leads to west and other which leads to rural India. I could revolt against my parents and get onto the first boat or I could leave it with their full support. It was a decision I had to make, and for some time there seemed no hurry. Just that one day all of a sudden I realized my father is no more. All of a sudden I realized, I could have learnt so much about India, about villages, about west, about modernity, about tradition but I didnt. The person whom I had saved to be my teacher was gone. My mother all of a sudden felt the pressure to play safe and was scared for me to step out. Though in her mind she was clear that west has nothing substantial to offer, but she was also not sure how safe an option it would be for me to step out of the race. For her, it wasnt important for me to come first in the 'rat race', but it was important for me to continue running with other rats, or I would find myself alone. And Ransingh ji, having lost his guide-cum-friend, vanished from my life. He perhaps didnt know how to handle me or my mother's fears. Probably he too was feeling orphaned like me- so much we could have learnt, but the guru is no more.

And so with a very partial knowlege of JV and a romanticized image of Indian village, in 2005 I found myself in SIDH. Both Pawan ji and I, along with 33 others were attending a JV shivir facilitated by Ganesh ji. It was perhaps my best shivir. The audience included Prof Sangal, Shriram Narasimhan, Vinish, Renu Bhatia, Venkatesh Rajan amongst others. The quality of discussion that happened due to the aggressive yet polite audience was amazing to my young mind. Seeing Ganesh ji handle the questions with ease, was very impressive. And what probably impressed me most was the set up of SIDH. I didnt know then, that after an year I would find myself there again, this time for a longish stay. I returned the next summer (now having finished with my Engineering) to be a volunteer there. There were two groups would had planned to visit SIDH for the summer. I was given responsibility of one and Raj had responsibility of the other (a group of school chilren from Delhi's Sriram school, sent by the effort of Mridu).

The group from Raipur was to have a two day interaction with Pawan ji, followed by a few days in the field. This was the first time for me to have listened to Pawan ji at length. And it's here that I first heard of Dharampal ji.

Pawan ji began by challenging our image about India- rural India, it's past etc. He quoted Dharampal's work on education (The beautiful tree) and on Indian science and technology (Indian Science and Technology in 18^th century) in great detail. He mentioned how he understood Gandhi only after coming in contact with Dharampal ji. As a child, I had always been impressed by Gandhi, his honesty, his integrity. Listening to Pawan ji, for the first time I started getting a feel of politics of Gandhi. As a child I was fascinated by his strategy of showing left cheek, when slapped on the right. I thought it was a brilliant strategy. It has the potential to throw the opponent off-gaurd, to leave him confused, to leave him defeated for sure. My friends, found such a move to be cowardice. What was brave was to hit back, for them. An eye for an eye was an brave act. But I was convinced, that this strategy of Gandhi required lot more courage. It required a guilt free mind.

Listening to Pawan ji then, I started getting a deeper feel of Gandhi. I started to understand, that Gandhi's real concern was not independence from the British, but the loss of confidence of Indians in themselves, in their backgrounds. All of the sudden, the scene in Attenborough's Gandhi (1982), came to my mind where Gandhi asks Charlie Andrews to leave India and its struggle for indepence. The concern of Gandhi was to instill this confidence that Indians by themselves could acheive freedom. For me, the debate between Bose and Gandhi got more or less settled there.

Pawan ji talked about how according to Gandhi the root cause in loss of self confidence is the 'increase of distance between school and home'. While most of the things about home- dresses, language, manners remained traditional, almost everything about school has become western. The situation is of course worsened in english medium schools. There seems to be an ever increasing fascination towards western mannerisms. In schools, inclusion of tie and blazer can be an important step. It somehow brings 'sophestication' to the education provided.

What became increasingly clear to me in that discussion was that we suffer from a sense of inferiority. And perhaps this was the gravest problem facing the youth. As Pawan ji very aptly put it, the rural youth looks upto urban people, and they in turn look upto westerners. Why and how Yoga or classical music became trendy was now clear to me. We seemed to have become a nation of imitators. Or more seriously, we have become 'generational imitators' (a term I used this time while conducting a Human values shivir for ug1 students in IIIT-H). Imitation seems to have become a habit. It passes from parents to children. And we are probably now the third or fourth generation of inheriters of inferiority.

I realized over the years, the gravity of the situation when a habit becomes generational. It no longer remains a question of a few individuals suffering from the problem, but a whole generation. It no longer remains a surfacial problem, but a deep seeded one. The problem is so deep that somewhere imitation has reached the level of our sanskaras. At that level it appears 'natural' to beleive in our inferiority and west's superiority. It has become the 'collective conscience' of our society (a term used by Supreme court of India in reference to Ajmal Kasab's case). Kasab was sentenced to death for shaking and hurting the collective conscience and death penalty to him was probably the only way to put a balm on it.

Of whatever little exploration I've done of Indian society, I am gettig a feeling, that a whole range of intellectual class, social reformers and even spiritual reformers (at some level) suffer from such a conscience. All of them seem to have a frozen image of India- a cursed, superstitious, feudal place where production is minimal and of worst quality, education was prerogative of Brahmin elites, zamindari was the system of tax collection, caste system formed the basis of social organization, women were confined to homes and within purdah etc. And so the only engagement possible with the past is that of reformation. There is hardly anything India of 21^st century can learn from pre-British India (the urban India now lives in the 21^st century, while the rural India is left behind in the dark ages of 18^th century). The engagement between the two is to raise the darkened India into modern enlightenment. This is probably what is meant by bringing people into the mainstream. The mainstream India is the 21^st century India.

I had also followed in my limited capacity the debate on development in the 1990s. Thanks to liberalization policy of Congress government in 1991, and the debate centred around the Sardar Sarovar dam, the debate on development and globalization was gathering steam. I could follow this debate very closely by listening to my father interact with many IIT students (and also my two elder cousins in those days). I was of course too young to participate in those debates, but I was getting old enough to listen to it and make sense out of it. The result of that on my personality and growth, now as I look back was fascinating. While my friends enjoyed the new found liberation in indulging in western style consumerism- Reebok shoes for playing sports, munching at fastfood centers like Wimpeys (McDonald's had still not entered the Indian market), I on the other hand started taking a naive stand on swadeshi (influenced by my father). As young 13 year olds school kids, Divya Chandrasekhar and I once had a long and emotive debate on development and globalization. These debates continued at length for many years with another close friend Manisha Sharma. As teenage kids, we followed and debated these issues. In the family, Amit (my cousin from Bombay) and I had these debates.

Abey George, who was a student of my mother and often frequented our home, got closely associated with Medha Patekar and the Narmada Bachao Andolan (NBA). Listening to his dialogue with my father just fascinated me. Abey and Medha (though I never met her personally) were like rockstars to me. Following them, and the NBA, my disillusionment with western style development never got a chance to root itself.

As I started understanding Dharampal in greater detail, all these issues resurfaced again and their context became deeper. Recently, while reading his article Bhartiya Chitt Manas aur Kaal I was struck by an important observation Dharampal makes about current state of Indian society. According to him, we somewhere have got stuck in between two different time lines. One discourse on time tells us that long long ago there was stone age, then came iron age, copper age, followed by age of electricity. And now there is computer age and space age. From a primitive state of hunter-gatherer living, we seemed to have progressed to a highly sophisticated state of living. The other discourse on time is that there once was satayuga, followed by tretayuga, dwaparyuga and now there is kalayuga. From a state of eternal bliss, we now have come to the age of corruption, war and environmental breakdown. Both the discourses seem true to us. As a society we are not able to choose one. It is like riding two boats, and unable to decide which one to leave. This probably according to Dharampal ji is the tragedy of post independence India. This division is not only between the two Indias (the 21^st century mainstream India and the 18^th century subaltern India), but this division exists even in our families. The educated modern fathers are on one boat, while the traditional mothers are on the other. The division has in fact seeped into the conscience of an individual too. The professional life one leads in office and the personal life back home are split in between the two boats. While profit and success form the bottomline at workplace, morals and Truthfullness form the bottomline in families.

Through Pawan ji I got introduced to Dharampal ji's work. And through them I got reintroduced to Gandhi and the Indian village. My beleif in Gandhi further strengthened. Books like Hind Swaraj, all of a sudden gained a new depth. For many years after that I used to carry copies of the book in my bag, and gifted it to many friends and sometimes even strangers in buses and trains. Only one person, my younger cousin Rahul (who had then finished his engineering from IIT Roorkie and was about to enter management program in IIM-A), got back to me after reading it. The book had left an impression on him. It disturbed him. He later payed a visit to SIDH and at one point was seriously reconsidering his decision to join IIM. His new found excitement to step out was quickly sensed and curtailed by his father (my mother's brother) and I was very politely asked to leave him alone through indirect channels. Rahul went on to join IIM-A and did well there. He is now married and settled in London. He and his wife (also an IIM graduate), work as consultants with big multinational firms. Some years ago we had a brief tryst at Delhi airport where he promised me to revisit Gandhi and SIDH after 10 years, but for now he wanted to chase the 21^st century India.

I on the other hand continued to be fancied by the 18^th century India of Dharampal and Pawan ji. My stay in SIDH was for a few months. Being there, listening to Pawan ji and sometimes interacting with other friends like Vinish Gupta and Ankit Pogula, slowly resulted in me seeing the extent of modernity that had percolated inside. I was one who wasnt bowled over by the west, who felt fortunate to have direct and live contact with the village life (half of my uncles and cousins still lived in villages and did farming), yet at a deeper level my way of thinking, way of looking was still western. This realization took some time to dawn upon me. The broken taps in mountain villages disturbed my mind constantly. An open tap is a symbol of wastage of water. For us water conservation began (and probably ended) with closing of tap. On the other hand, the traditional wisdom of hills told me that ruka hua paani kharab hota hai. Paani ko to behte rehne chahiye. It was in direct contrast to my deeply urbanized activist mind. At first it only seemed an excuse on part of the villagers to not repair their taps. But i soon realized a more deeper conflict. The water tap, is a symbol of the civilizational conflict. On one hand, tap symbolizes freedom for women, on the other hand it symbolizes control (and hence commodification) of water. Talking to Vinish in a greater detail on this topic, I realized that tap is also a symbol of impact of technology on our personal and social way of living. A simple water tap can be of such importance, has slowly dawned upon with over the years, as I have continued to engage with Indian society.

For urban people, leaving the tap open is logically wrong, as it is a waste of not only water but also precious energy. As we live in cities, the water is first pumped-up to over head tanks, consuming a lot of fossil fuel energy. The tank then makes 24 hr water supply available in the taps of our kitchen and bathrooms. And so, leaving the tap open not only would result in wastage of enegy, but also create a risk of cutting short the 24hr water supply. On the other hand, water in the mountain villages is tapped from the water streams, which are naturally flowing downwards. A small part of the water stream is diverted through the village. The flowing water is somewhere diverted at a higher altitude, and again allowed to converge at a lower altitude. In between a village consumes as per its needs. Closing the tap is a sin, as it would mean depriving the villages downstream (and in the plains) of the water. It is a sin to stop the flow of water.

This simple point took some time to sink in. It wasnt easy to let go the 'closed tap'. What took an even greater time to sink in was the contrast between logical thinking and ethical thinking. The urban approach to the problem was of reasoning. The rural approach was more of ethics. To constrain water for oneself was an ethical problem.

This was my first encounter with the modernity in me. The other one was more direct and probably more brutal. The only thing about SIDH I did not like was its kitchen. The food served there was tasteless. One day, as part of a casual conversation with Jitendra bhai, I complained to him about the food. He acknowledged that there was a problem. And then he made a confession, the cooks (Swaroop bhai and Khumani bhai) were actually flukes. They did not know how to cook well. They ran the kitchen by fluke. Jitendra bhai made this confession smiling. I was not impressed. It seemed as if he was taking the matter lightly. As my first response I said “then why dont we fire them and get someone better”. He was shocked to see that response. Seeing his reaction, I realized I had done some mistake, but exactly what it was, I didnt know. After all my statement seemed fine. Jitendra bhai said “how can we fire them. They are both of my village. I address them as bhai sahab. Their kids call me uncle”. At first, to my urbanized mind, it looked a classic case of bhai-bhatija waad, (another problem rural India suffered from). Relations are given a priority over competence. How is the quality of work suppose to improve with such an attitude? Jitendra bhai went on to add “firing them is something that never occurred to us. How are they to run their family then? Either we can find a new job for them or improve their skills while they are here”. This answer was brutal to me. It took me many years to get a grasp of this response. Only recently after spending a considerable time and deliberation in understanding the Indian society, I am now able to fathom the depth of it. The difference between a village and a city becomes clear to me here. A village is a unit where it provides aahar ki suraksha to all its inhabitant families. This forms the bottomline on which growth can be built. In city, the growth is not rooted anywhere.

Spending time in SIDH, I observed slowly some transitions in me, in my way of thinking, in my aspirations. Through engaging with JV, my enquiry was about 'human way of thinking', while understanding Dharampal and Pawan ji, the enquiry slowly changed to 'Indian way of thinking'. This is not to mean that the so called Indian way is something special and one needs to boast of it. This is only to mean, the the enquiry slowly turned towards understanding the Indian culture- good and bad both.

I think Dharampal ji's quest was similar. The social intervention which he intended to do (and did) was to 'domesticate' the West (I heard the term in such a context much later through Navjyoti ji). His effort was not to reject or discard west, but to make sense of it in our context. I think his greatest worry was that we have become contextless people. And therefore anything that is thrown at us in the name of West or modernity, we grab it. The capability to make sense of West and modernity can only come when we understand our context. In absence of that, even the understanding of West is meaningless.

My quest since then I guess has been to understand our context. A sense of our context has made me relook at the water tap. This is not to say that the tap is bad and destructive, but this is to understand how a tap can affect our contexts, ways of living and even ways of seeing. It's to develop an ability to domesticate the water tap, to mould it as per our context (our needs, our beleifs, our aesthetics).

This shift from Human centric thinking to Indian centric thinking is not nationalistic in its nature. This shift should be seen more as going from a context-free way of thinking to contextual way of thinking. It is not to limit oneself in a context and then see the world, but it is to develop a sense of context and change of contexts. After all wisdom is nothing but to be able to differentiate between contexts, to be able to sense what stands in which context and what doesnt. And to be able to also see that certain things are context free. 

At SIDH, I was only introduced to Dharampal. My quest into understanding him better, went beyond my stay there. My second tryst with Dharampal happens after moving to IIIT, Hyderabad. This was a more indirect confrontation with him. I read his work, but this time I started placing them in a context (or at least try to that).

The first task given to me in my persuit of understanding Indian society by Navjyoti ji was simple. He said “try imagining what it would be like to be a potter in 16^th century India”. The task seemed simple but very strange. To get a hang of Indian society, he wanted me to imagine and not read any literature. For some years I wondered, why was I asked to imagine?

Imagination came in direct conflict with my beleif system then. Ganesh ji, through whom I explored JV, had a totally different take on imagination. For him, it was nothing but mungeri laal ke haseen sapne, a line he would often use while conducting JV shivirs. Imagination for me was nothing more than day dreaming, something I was succeptible to. But for Navjyoti ji, imagination was much more than that, it was the path to Truth. The whole world, in principle was available in imagination, in better words kalpanasheelta (the power to imagine).

The shift from mungerilal ke haseen sapne to kalpanasheelta was not a smooth transition. There were many to-and-fro moments for me. I took some years to idealogically make that shift. Its important to mention here, that ideology or mata, is different from imagination (kalpanasheelta). Ideology does not have space to include the world, imagination does. Ideology is exclusionary in its nature, while imagination is inclusionary. Ideology is stagnant, while imagination is navya-nootana, ever evolving. Creativity and recreation is possible only in imagination.

For Navjyoti ji, kalpanasheelta was the way to Truth. He was convinced about it. So much so, that one of my colleague, Prakani Cherukuri under his guidance started working on Fantasy. Her thesis was to be on how Fantasy discloses Truth. I must admit, at first the whole idea looked self contradictory to me, but I was thrilled at something else. As a result of this approach, all of sudden I found a place for mythology in my quest for Truth. If what Navjyoti ji was saying was true, then it would mean there is a direct linkage between mythology and Truth. All of the sudden Ramanaya, Mahabharata and other pauranic texts became relevant. I no longer needed to scientifically prove the rationale behind these texts. I only needed to see the context of myths in the path of Truth.

One thing that is common between the left wing rationalists and right wing nationalists in India has been their approach to mythology. The rationalists have rejected it due to want of rationale. After all, how can a sane person beleive that there existed a ravana who had ten heads. And each time, a head is cut off, it grows back again. On the other hand, the nationalists have painstakingly tried to show the scientificity that existed in mythological texts. It is a matter of pride for them that our ancestors designed and flew aircrafts thousands of years ago. In both the approaches, myth and Truth cannot go hand in hand. We while in Center for Exact Humanities, were attempting to connect the two.

And so when Navjyoti ji asked me to imagine like a 16^th century potter, I was at a loss, not knowing what to do. I must admit, I still find myself at a loss sometimes, but slowly I am able to get a sense of this approach. What this approach did was that it reintroduced Dharampal to me, and this time in an all together new form. The new Dharampal was different from the earlier one I had known.

The old Dharampal is found in his writings like The Beautiful Tree or Indian Science and Technology in 18^th century. These works are a result of hardcore archival research. Dharampal ji spent years lost in the British archives of 18^th century India, stored in the India library, London. By reproducing the archival material most of which were the correspondence between British officers stationed in India at that time and their superiors based in London, Dharampal was successfully able to break the frozen image of India. His work showed us the extent of spread of education in Indian villages in 18^th century. It showed that schools were present in almost every village, and that education was accessible to all sections of the society. The British records tell us that almost 70% of the students enrolled in schools came from what we now call backword communities. Only 30% students were from the Brahmin or Kshatriya communities. So much so education of girl child was also the norm. Though most of the girls had tutors coming to their homes, still many did go to schools. The average time spent in schools was of the order of 15 years. This was three times greater than that in England in those days. The content of education in India was also far superior to the content of education in England.

Similarly his other work on indigenous technology gives a picture of the sophistication India had achieved. The process of making ice was mind boggling. The British only knew how to collect and store ice, when it snowed, but in Indian plains where it never snows, ice was manufactured. Similar descriptions of observatory in Benaras, inoculation of small pox, manufacturing of wootz (rust free steel called faulad in India) gives a glimpse of sophistication and extent of education system in India. His work goes on to claim that India contributed to more than one fourth of world's industrial production. Dharampal writes that around 2 lac tonnes of faulad was manufactured annually in central India. Other works seem to corroborate Dharampal on this. It is estimated that India and China together contributed to less than three fourth of world production. And we are talking about industrial production here, not counting agricultural produce.

Such an image comes in direct confrontation with what I call the Mother India image we urban educated Indians have grown up with. Mother India is an acclaimed movie which came out from popular cinema of Bollywood (the name is imitated from Hollywood). The movie gives the image of rural India which is a cursed place. Majority of the population is forced to work as bonded laborers in the fields of the landlord, who is as brutal and ruthless in his approach as one can imagine. The village baniya (moneylender) is another symbol of cunningness, who would not even mind sucking the last drop of blood of poor villagers in order to get his money. A village is a place where industrial production cannot be imagined. Whatever little production that happens, is at best primitive in nature. India, as Nehru famously said is an agrarian society and not industrial. And so as per Nehru's vision, the course of development would necessarily include the transformation from agrarian society to industrial society.

Dharampal ji, from his work, broke this frozen image of Indian society. He clearly showed the extent of education, the sophistication of technology and the quantum of production in the society. His work gained credence because he was directly quoting the British archives. His tool, archival research is an accepted tool among intellectuals in the study of history. To discount British archives for Indian intellectuals is impossible, but to accept what Dharampal was saying was also not going to be easy, after all the Macaulayian discourse on India has been completely different. This discourse also swears by the British records. And so probably the only charge that one could be  leveled against Dharampal was that he was being selective. Of course the counter charge on the Indian intellectual class can also be same, that of selective and convinient interpretations. I do not know for exact who has been more selective, but what I know for sure is that Dharampal ji was successfully able to crack the frozen image of India. And his tool was archival research.

That was the old Dharampal to whom I was introduced in SIDH. The new Dharampal, whom I was encountering in IIIT-H, was attempting to break the tool itself, which he so successfully used in his earlier work. And this rightly was the next step to be undertaken. Once the frozen image of desolate India was broken, it was now time to break the western tools of exploration. After all one's context is not fully found when one has used somebody else's glasses to look at the world. The question now was how would Indians approach the Truth? What would be the 'Indian way' of looking at past?

I could see this quest of Dharampal ji in his later writings such as Bharatiya chitta manas aur kaal. His attempt there is to understand how does an Indian mind understand things. Priya, who spent many years with Dharampal ji, mentions in one of her writings, that Dharampal ji's quest in latter part of his life had turned away from the question of why to the question of how. This aspect of him, comes out in almost all the writings I have read about him. People who had spent many fruitful years with him, and later wrote about him, somewhere point out that he was a keen observer of the ordinary Indian, trying to understand how he reaches a decision.

Can imagination, stories, art, myths, dharma constitute the 'Indian way of approaching the Truth'? Will these tools be able to fulfill the need of rigour and exactitude which the western tools bring with them? Does establishment of these tools (and breaking of western tools) be a social intervention towards Swaraj?  I think the new Dharampal was attempting this in his last days.

While persuing to understand and implement the 'Indian way', I realized that I needed to make a few distinctions in this journey. For example history and Itihaasa, society and samaaj, religion and dharma and most importantly imagination and kalpanasheelta were not same. An historical approach to India would be different from an aitihaasic approach. Theorizing the Indian society would be different from theorizing the samaaj. A space for stories, myths, devi-devatas, parloka would have to be created. The 'Indian way' would include bridging the bhuloka with the parloka. As Dharampal ji would say, for an ordinary Indian they both exist, and to discount one would defeat the idea of moving towards swaraj. In this process, a bridge would also have to be formed between linear time line (from stone age to space age) and circular time line (from satayuga to kaliyuga). An ordinary Indian after all lives in both the time lines.

In this quest, I came across Ravindra Sharma, who is fondly called Guruji from his wrestling days. Listening to Guruji, I could sense a seamless integration of history and Itihaasa. If Dharampal ji can be called a historian, I would call Guruji a story teller. I am told by my elders, who have spent time with both, that they enjoyed mutual admiration and respect for one another. I having spent time with Guruji knows that he certainly held Dharampal ji in high regard. This to me indicates that in samaaj a historian and a story teller are not in confrontation with each other. They are not fighting for the same space, but creating their own space in the minds of an ordinary Indian. They are not in confict with each other, but in complementary spaces.

As Navjyoti ji would often put it in many of his classes, the space of Itihaasa exists in Kalpana. Itihaasa is made of personas (personhood), while history constitutes embodied men. The personhood creates the scope of stories and myths to exist. They in turn give the freedom to create and indulge in artistic endeavour. A finished work of art then in turn connects the disembodied person (of parloka) to the material realm (of bhuloka).

Tradinationally we see an ordinary person as dwija, the one who is born twice. The first step towards understanding Dharampal ji's fascination towards the ordinary Indian would be to understand the phenomena of two births. The first birth happens in the bhuloka or the material world. A man is born out of mother's womb and is made of 'motor organs' (in Navjyoti ji's words). This man is tangible. He has weight, can be touched, lifted, and most importantly be co-measured with other men. He has five motor organs- two hands, two legs and speech organ. They are called the karmaindriyaan or faculties to act. All actions are performed using the karmaindriya. It took me a while to understand that even speech is an action (and probably with highest potentiality). Other than these five faculties, man has another five faculties which are called gyanindriya or the faculties of knowledge. These are popularly also called the five senses- touch, smell, taste, of sound (ear) and of vision (eyes). As the name suggests, knowledge (gyana) is available through them. They are considered transparent in nature, as they present the reality to man as it is, without any coloring. While the gyanindriya are inward directed, the karmaindriya are outward directed. What gets captured by gyanindriya, necessarily goes in and what gets churned inside tends to come out through karmaindriya. The churning inside takes place in kalpana of man. What goes in and comes out is nothing but (in)formations. What is the nature of these formations, what are they made of and how are they transmitted (bimban) are questions I am leaving for now (but answer to them would be required in order to build a comprehensive theory of samaaj). This is the constitution of the embodied man who exists in flesh and blood. Like any other material, even this man has a life cycle, whose other end is called death.

The second birth of an ordinary Indian happens in parloka. This is when a man is able to perform finetuned actions and able to leave impressions in the kalpana of other men (also himself). This is the begining of his personhood. As the man lives life, he acts. As he acts, he leaves impressions. These impressions are modified and remodified over and over again. The impressions slowly start stacking together into a persona. The man slowly starts becoming a person. The quest for man is to continue refining his persona, or in Navjyoti ji's words to make a career in parloka. Education is not about making a man out of young kids, but about making a person out of man.

The content of parloka is absolutely objective. It is objective because it is ordinary. It is personal but not private. It is in full glare. The parloka exists in kalpana, which is accessible by all. Kalpana of one permeates into the kalpana of other. It is in principle impossible to identify which part of kalpana is mine and which is of other.

This came as a brutal shock to me. Something which I was considering as innermost to myself, as absolutely private, is now turning out to be public in principle. Though one does try to bring certain privacy in one's kalpana, by attaching certain visheshtayien (visheshanas or attributes) like names and emotions. These attributes tend to make our kalpana personalized and private, but the nature of kalpana seems to be such that the visheshanas seem to melt away after some time. What however remains permanently are roles. Our kalpana constitutes roles of motherhood, fatherhood, studenthood, teacherhood, kinghood, primeministerhood etc. These roles are absolutely ordinary or sadharan in nature. There is absolutely nothing personal or private about it. And this is exactly what makes them public in nature and therefore accessible to all.

When Navjyoti ji asked me to imagine like a potter, he wasn't talking about a particular potter (with attributes like name, location etc), but he wanted me to try and access the potterhood that already exists in kalpana. The potterhood is made out of countless impressions formed by countless potters in the past through their actions. Some of their actions have been towards perfection while some away from perfection. The resultant of countless negotiations between perfect and imperfect actions has resulted in formation of potterhood, which is stacked in kalpana.

This second birth, does not lead to death unlike in the case of embodied man. Due to the longivity and ordinariness of personhood, it remains accessible in principle. I had met Dharampal ji in flesh and blood only once (in 2006 in SIDH). He was very old then. I got an oppurtunity to listen to him only then. After a couple years he died. Yet I had access to the personhood of Dharampal, through stories of him. How accurately I've been able to access Dharampal, I do not know. Only those who have spent many years with him will be able to ascertain that. But, its possible for me to access him in principle, long after he is gone.

The samaaj exists in this realm. Being samaajik is about being in touch with this realm. Being samaajik means trying to act from the inspiration of personhoods that exists in kalpana.

During one of the many conversations with a dear friend Kanwarjit (an architect by training), he mentioned that a true architect is not the one who brings in his own ideology and preferences while constructing a house. An architect has to leave behind everything that is his own, and just think by putting himself in the customer's shoes. If a customer wants a fully concretized, glassy and flashy home, so be it. An architect cannot bring in his ideology of green buildings and natural material while constructing someone else's home. A similar point was once made by Prof Ashok Chatterjee, former director at National Institute of Design, during his address in IIIT-H. He said that a designer has to be like a lover. He needs to only worry about the other person and bring nothing of his own (likings, preferences) in between. To let go that what is one's own and not worry about oneself, was an important lesson to all designers and wanna be lovers. And letting go is not easy at all. It demands a tremendous sense of selflessness. Indian feminism if understood correctly is in letting go, highest order of selflessness. A designer has to be feminine.

This lesson I got from Kanwarjit and Prof Chatterjee, was incomplete. Later on while discussing it with Navjyoti ji and another friend Anurag Sahay from Dehradun, a deeper dimension was added to it. It is true that an architect has to keep aside his own wishes and worldviews while designing, but it would be a mistake if he was to succumb to the customer's views and fancies. Letting go of one's own wishes was only step one of the process. Step two includes getting an access to the dharma of architect or the architecthood which is formed out of countless actions of architects in the past. Access to the dharma would tend towards the perfection in design.

The first step of letting go is a necessary precondition of the second step of accessing dharma. It involves letting go of one's hit and ahit. Ordinariness or sadharanikaran is such a stage. Samaaj constitutes of sadharan persons, which are objective and public.

The Sufist view of love is something similar. When in love, one is not worried about one's own hit and ahit, one's own wishes, one's own views. But what is one only worried about is the other. For sufists, this other is not some embodied being, but God. I dont know about God, but for now, this other is the personhoods for me.

The story at the introduction of natyashastra mentions the need of sadharanikaran, precisely for the purpose of getting away from one's own hit and ahit and have access to the dharma. The story mentions that one of the principle requirement for constitution of samaaj is sadharanikaran.

Dharampal ji's quest for ordinariness, is leading me to sadharanikaran.

Harsh Satya

14^th Dec, 2012

अभी कौम नहीं है हमारी

कुछ वर्ष पूर्व, अफ़घानिस्तान में हिंदुस्तान कि सरकार ने डॉक्टरों का एक दल भेजा था| लड़ाई के बाद अफ़घानिस्तान का पुनर निर्माण का कार्यक्रम चालू हो गया था, और डॉक्टरों का यह दल उसी के चलते हिंदुस्तान कि एक पहल थी| हांलांकि सरकारी तौर पर यह सब civilian डॉक्टर थे, पर असल में यह हिन्दुस्तानी फ़ौज के अफसर थे| अफ़घानिस्तान में माहौल इस तरह का नहीं था कि civilian डॉक्टरों को भेजा जा सके|
कुछ समय पहले, उन्ही में से एक डॉक्टर से मेरी बात हो रही थी| वे अपने अफ़घानिस्तान के अनुभवों के बारे में बता रहे थे| हिन्दुस्तानी डॉक्टरों के लिए सुरक्षा के इंतज़ाम काफी मज़बूत थे| उनके साथ हमेशा अंगरक्षकों की एक टोली रहती थी| ऐसे में एक दिन इन जनाब ने अपने मेज़बान अंगरक्षक से पुछा, ऐसा क्यूँ है कि अफघानी डॉक्टरों को कोई सुरक्षा नहीं, जबकि हिन्दुस्तानी डॉक्टरों के साथ पूरी सुरक्षा है| उनके अंगरक्षक ने बड़ा साधारण लेकिन गहरा उत्तर दिया. उसका कहना था "आपको सुरक्षा दी गयी है, क्यूंकि आप अकेले है| आपकी कोई कौम नहीं है| आपको मारना बहुत आसान है| आपके लिए कोई खड़ा नहीं होगा| अगर हमें कोई मारेगा, तो हमारा पूरा गाओ, हमारी पूरी कौम हमारे लिए खड़ी हो जायेगी"|

मेरे विचार में उस अंगरक्षक कि कही यह बात बहुत महत्वपूर्ण है| सवाल यहाँ बदला लेने का नहीं है| सवाल यह है कि समाज क्या होता है| हम समाज किसे कहते है| समाज और समूह में क्या फर्क होता है|
समाज का एक अभिन्न अंग होता है "sense of belonging". ध्यान दे कि यह एक sense है (भाव), न कि "reason/logic/utility of belonging". यह अपनत्व का भाव समाज और समूह में फरक करता है| हिंदुस्तान के पतन में, हम समाज से समूह और समूह से भीड़ कि तरफ बढ़ गए है| भीड़ को मैं समूह से भी निकृष्ट हालत में मानता हू| भीड़ का अपना कोई मानस नहीं होता| या फिर ऐसा कहे कि भीड़ का मानस अनिश्चित होता है, और इसी लिए खतरनाक भीड़ होती है (अंग्रेजी में 'mob mentality' कहते है, जिसको बेहद अनिश्चित और खतरनाक मानते है)|
अफ़घानिस्तान में इतने वर्ष की बर्बादी के बावजूद भी, उनके समाज में एक अपनत्व दीखता है| और वह भी इस स्तर कि वह अपनों के लिए जान भी दे सकते है| इसमें यह ध्यान रखने कि बात है, कि यह अपनत्व अफ़घानिस्तान राष्ट्र के लिए नहीं, बल्कि अपनी कौम के लिए है| मेरा मानना है कि राष्ट्र के लिए अपनत्व हो भी नहीं सकता| अपनत्व तो अपनी गली के लिए, मोहल्ले कि लिए, गाँव और समाज के लिए ही होता है| यह अपनत्व धर्म और मज़हब में भी नहीं दीखता|

पश्चिम के देशों में तो समाज जैसी कोई चीज़ दीखती है नहीं है| वहा या तो एक व्यक्ति है और या फिर state है| हिंदुस्तान के शहरो में व्यक्ति और state के बीच अभी परिवार भी है| लेकिन परिवार के अस्तित्व पर सवाल खड़ा हो गया है| शायद एक पीढ़ी के बाद हम लोग भी पश्चिम जितने विकसित हो चुके होंगे और परिवार विलुप्त हो जायेंगे| यहाँ पर मै विकास और समाज/परिवार के विलुप्त होने को एक कार्य-कारण (cause-effect) सम्बन्ध में जोड़ रहा हु| आज का विकास भोगवादी अर्थव्यवस्था से परिभाषित होता है| और आज का विकास power के केन्द्रियेकरण को बढाता है| इसके चलते परिवार और समाज का कमज़ोर पड़ना और फिर विलुप्त होना लाज़मी है| इसमें हमारी technology के स्वभाव का भी एक बड़ा हाथ है| technology और power का सम्बन्ध एक महत्वपूर्ण मुद्दा है|
आजादी के बाद हिंदुस्तान में technology के इतिहास पर एक शोध होना चाहिए| ऐसा नहीं है कि आविष्कार केवल हिंदुस्तान के शहरों में, वैज्ञानिको की प्रयोगशाला में ही हुए है, बल्कि आविष्कार गाँव में भी हुए है| इस बात की पुष्टि अहमदाबाद स्थित honeybee network के लोग कर सकते है, jo पिछले कुछ वर्षों से ऐसे आविष्कारों को document करने का काम कर रहे है| मेरे विचार में इन दो तरह की technologies पर- इनके स्वभाव पर, इनके समाज पर असर पर, इनका power के साथ सम्बन्ध पर, शोध होना चाहिए|

खैर वापस समाज पर आते है, और अपनत्व के उस भाव पर जो समाज को समूह से अलग करता है| ऐसा नहीं है कि समाज हिंदुस्तान से विलुप्त ही हो गया है| हिन्दुतान इतना बड़ा और विविध देश है, कि किसी बदलाव को आते आते भी कई पीढियां लग जाती है| बदलाव चाहे अच्छा हो या बुरा, हिंदुस्तान कि अपनी एक चाल है| इस धीमी चाल का कारण जनसँख्या नहीं, बल्कि हिंदुस्तान कि विविधता है| विविधता का होना, यह दर्शाता है कि हिंदुस्तान मै अभी भी एक स्तर पर काफी विकेन्द्रित power equation है| एक तरफ जहा बड़े शहरों के पढ़े लिखे वर्ग में secularism के भूत के चलते, समानता और uniformity/standardization का फर्क ख़तम हो गया है, वही अनपद वर्ग का दिल अभी भी बड़ा है और वह असमानता से घबराता नहीं है| अनपद वर्ग अपने साथ अपने रीति रिवाज, अपनी भाषा, और अपनी मान्यताये लेके चलता है| पढ़ा लिखा वर्ग, उन सभी चीज़ें जो असमान है- के प्रति ग्लानी रखता है| तो अगर मै एक secularist हू, तो में टीका नहीं लगा सकता, दाढ़ी नहीं रख सकता, धोती नहीं बाँध सकता, टोपी नहीं पहन सकता, गाये को रोटी नहीं खिला सकता| अगर मै ऐसा करता हु, तो यह संभव है कि मेरे बाकी secular साथी मुझे fundamentalist कह कर अछूत कर दे|
secularism का वास्तव मतलब है कि में अपनी धोती बांधू और आप अपनी दाढ़ी रखे और फिर हम साथ काम कर सके, बात कर सके, बहस कर सके, disagree हो sake| secularism का मतलब यह नहीं है कि हम दोनों paint-shirt पहन ने लगे| paint-shirt पहन कर disagree होने में कोई बहादुरी नहीं है|

मेरे विचार में, इस आरोपित समानता ने अपनत्व ख़तम किया है| सामान होने के चक्कर में हमने ऐसी चीज़ें स्वीकारी है, ऐसा जीवन अपनाया है जो अपना नहीं लगता| मै यह भी मानता हु, कि अनपद वर्ग को असमानता से घबराहट या तकलीफ नहीं है| अनपद वर्ग के लिए समानता कोई मुद्दा नहीं है| दक्षिण भारत कि महिला बालों में गजरा पेहेंती है और उत्तर भारत कि महिला इसको बुरा मानती है| लेकिन उनमें इस बात कि ज़रुरत नहीं है कि दूसरी महिला भी गजरा पहने या न पहने| असमानता को दिल में जगह देना मेरे विचार में secularism है| समानता कि हट नहीं| ऐसे में एक महत्त्वपूर्ण विच्छेद करना ज़रूरी है| अंग्रेजी का शब्द community और हिंदी का शब्द समाज एक नहीं है| हमारा इनको एक दुसरे का translation मानना एक गलती है| community शब्द commune से आता है जहा समानता मुख्यतम मूल्य है| दूसरी ओर समाज में विविधता की बात आती है| विविधता समाज में समृद्धि दर्शाती है| विविधता और अपनत्व साथ साथ हो सकते है|

अन्ना के आन्दोलन में अभी समाज नहीं था| अभी समूह ही था| मेरा तात्पर्य अन्ना के आन्दोलन को बेकार बताना नहीं है| बल्कि यह कहना है कि आगे की दिशा समूह से समाज के तरफ की दिशा है| कुछ वर्ष पूर्व, गुडगाँव की एक फैक्ट्री के मजदूर आन्दोलन कर रहे थे| आन्दोलन तोड़ने के लिए पोलिसे ने लाठी चार्ज किया और मजदूरों की बेहरमी से पिटाई हुई| मीडिया ने इसको लाइव कोवेरगे दी थी| अगले दिन, गुडगाँव और आस पास के इलाको के लोग (आदमी और औरते) लाठी लेके वहा के SP के दफ्तर पहुँच गए| उस समय कोई sms अभियान ya facebook/twitter नहीं थे| ऐसे ही, करीब एक वर्ष पूर्व मायावती सरकार ने महेंद्र सिंह टिकैत के गिरफ्तारी के order पास कर दिए थे (टिकैत ने बिजनौर मै किसी सभा में चमार शब्द का प्रयोग किया था, जो की कानूनन तौर पर एक अपराध है)| टिकैत के गाँव ने उनको घेर लिया और पोलिसे को गाँव के अन्दर आने नहीं दिया| ऐसे में सरकार ने अतिरिक्त पोलिसे बल भेजा| फिर आस पास के और लोग इकठ्ठा हो गए| एक तरफ जहा पोलिसे बल बढ़ रहा था, वही दूसरी ओर बाकी इलाके के लोग आने लगे| यह किस्सा मीडिया में बहुत हलके रूप में प्रकट हुआ था| लोगो ने गिरफ्तार नहीं होने दिया टिकैत को| आखिर में सरकार और टिकैत के बीच एक गुप्त समझोता हुआ, जिसके चलते वहा से पोलिसे को हटाया गया और टिकैत ने एक local court में समर्पण किया|

मै यहाँ टिकैत से सहानुभूति या उनसे एक मत नहीं रख रहा| न ही में गुडगाँव की महिलाओं से एक मत रख रहा हु, जिन्होंने लाठी लेके SP office में पहुँच कर पोलिसे अफसरों की पिटाई कर दी| मै समाज के उस अपनत्व के भाव की बात को लाने की चेष्टा कर रहा हु जिसे उस अफ़घान सिपाही ने कही थी| अगर किसी आन्दोलन को देशव्यापी होना है तो अनपद वर्ग को शामिल होना होगा| और इसके चलते समानता और secularism के प्रति उदारता दिखानी होगी| दिल में असमानता की जगह बनानी होगी और political correctness को थोडा ढीला छोड़ना होगा|

Udaan- as a work of Art

Udaan- Work of Art

A peep into its morals

कहानी ख़त्म है, या शुरुआत होने को है
सुबह नयी है, या फिर रात होने को है|

The movie starts and ends with the above lines. Rohan, the central character faces the same situation in life twice within a short period. The situation being a crossroad, a do-raaha, where one is not sure what lies ahead. The possibilities can be between two extremes. One being the end of story and the other being a new chapter in life (indicated by the words of the song). The movie begins with Rohan being suspend from boarding school after being found guilty third time of indiscipline. He has been asked to leave school and head home. On the way he wonders what lies ahead of him, if this is the end of life or if it is a start of a new chapter ( the question being all the more important since he hasn’t met his father for 8 years). The end of movie is again with the same question. Rohan after much thought and spent anger decides to leave the house of his tyrant father (and take his younger step brother along). He is sure to leave behind his past, but his future is not certain. And it can take the two extremes of either being the end, or turn of a new chapter.

The movie is a depiction of Grey characters. Except the young boy (who is not old enough to have shades of Grey), all the characters have both something to hate, and something to love about. Even the most negatively portrayed character of Bhairon Singh (Rohan’s father, played extremely well by Ronit Roy), has a certain positivity in it. Though tyrant, he still has some principles. To start with, given all the frustration and loneliness in his life, he has not given up on the responsibility of his boys. He does have a chitran of what a man should be, and tries to shape his boys accordingly (though his methods are subject of criticism through out the movie). The other aspect of Bhairon Singh’s character is that though from outside he appears all strong, firm and heartless, but the movie is able to show the emotive side of him too. The man does feel lonely, he feels and admits the need of a partner (and hence goes for a third marriage, in which he is ready to accept the responsibility of a young girl).

The shades of Grey is what makes the character realistic and believable. The audience can empathize with all the characters. The world is not black and white, but Grey. The truth of world is subjective and not objective. Or in other words, the Truth needs to be contextualized for it to be realistic, believable and even relevant.

The movie is not a happy ending (as one is often used to in Hindi cinema). In fact the movie is strong enough to generate a need of a happy ending in the audience. And that is why it has the potential to leave the audience with a feeling being incomplete or unfinished (something which is still not over). One would leave the cinema hall with a need of a sequel-Udaan II. One might even start imagining and cooking the sequel of the film. And most likely, all the imaginations of the sequel would have the family being re-united. Untill then there seems no end. Untill then one wants no end. The beauty of the movie is that one still doesn’t hate Bhairon Singh and wishes for him to reunite with Rohan and his brother.

The word Udaan signifies freedom. It is about freedom after much effort. The bird flies after weeks of practice and millions of wing flapping. The last run of Rohan, where he finally manages to out run his dad signifies this Udaan. And its probably this, which gives him the final confidence of taking the leap into the world on his own (and the confidence to be able to ‘make future’ of his younger brother). The last run, is probably the most significant part of the movie and best describes its title Udaan.

Udaan- The movie

Kahaani khatm hai, yaa shuruaat hone ko hai

Subah hai yeh, yaa raat hone ko hai

The two lines struck some chord the first time i listened to them. Standing at the door of MMTS, looking in the dark outside with cold wet breeze on the face, I listened to the song. I was happy that the mp3 player was working again. And also about the decision to download the songs before starting for Adilabad. For most of the night in the train, I was enjoying the songs with the rains. This was the first tryst with the latest movie Udaan. The songs- music and the lyrics were strong enough to move me. The above two lines, were just too good (probably they came at the right time in my life). Im now able to appreciate the lyrics and Im now not afraid of listening to new songs.

And then I saw the movie. It was incredible. It has probably broken the last of the shackles of morality which im now too tired to carry. Sometimes its important to for some time keep aside morality. I feel its the right time now. I need to keep it aside, breathe freely, regain some strength and wait for the right time. Inshaah Allah!

Morality is important for saamajikta, but at times it can hamper one's journey of learnings. Or to put it in better words, half baked notion of morality can become a hurdle. And so in the hope to understand morality better, in hope that the journey would continue, I decide to give it some rest for the time being.

Aazaadiyaan!!

Beautiful song

आखों के परदे पर, प्यारा सा था जो नज़ारा
धुँआ सा बन कर, उड़ गया अब न रहा
बैठे थे हम तो ख्वाबो की छाओं के तले,
छोड़ कर उनको जहा कहा को चले|

कहानी ख़त्म है या शुरुआत होने को है
सुबह नयी है यह या फिर रात होने को है
कहानी ख़त्म है या शुरुआत होने को है
सुबह नयी है यह या फिर रात होने को है

आने वाले वक़्त देगा पनाहे
या फिर से मिलेंगे दो राहे
खबर क्या
क्या पता

Tryst with different kinds of Beggars

One thing you see in Indian cities prominently are beggars. Ive been vitnessing them, sometimes even confronting them and sometimes even sharing the same space with them now for over 20 years. But not untill recently i was forced to change my perspective towards them and see them in altogether different way. It now looks more like a professional industry and a beggar looks like any of the other office going person in morning. Of late i've met very interesting kinds of beggars.

As a kid i was told by elders in the family, that beggars are someone who choose not to work and think they can manage a living just like that. That perception has now been broken. Im not saying that beggars are people who want to but cannot work (due to various reasons), but im saying they work. And the work being the profession of begging. Yes, im daring to call it a profession. And now that ive started looking at it as a profession i remember to have met some very interesting professional beggars.

1. Tourist Beggars: During my stay in SIDH, near Mussoorie i realized that the beggars here are seasonal beggars. They come to Mussoorie during the summer months just like the tourists. And once the tourist season is over, they return to where ever they come from. For them its not only a means to escape the heat waves of the plains but also to earn some money. They move in families.

2. The lost lady in Agra: When studying in Agra, i met this lady at the Agra bus stand. She was well dressed and looked educated. While i stood waiting for the bus to arrive, she quietly approached me. She said that she is from Mathura, and somehow lost her money. And so needs some money to buy a bus ticket I knew she was lying, somehow the innovatiness forced me to give into her story. I dont remember how much i gave, but it surely was much more than i would give it to a conventional beggar. The best part is, i bumped into the same lady again at the same place after one month. She again approached me and told the same story. This time i had to say no. I told her that i had met you at the same place a month ago. She hurriedly left the place. That day she must have learnt a lesson that she needs to constantly change places or work.

3. Another lost lady in Delhi: it was the same story this time in Delhi. This rural Haryana lady this time approached me while i was standing outside AIIMS bus stop. She showed me a medical card with something scribbled on it. She even asked me to touch her hand to see for myself that she is running high fever. I didnt do it, but i again gave into the story. This time it was the nature of script and choice of words which was very powerful (and maybe also my liking of the Haryanavi language). Back then, it was my first job. I was working in this Hindi news channel and the notion of short, crisp but powerful scripts was part of my job. I was learning on how to make a News item (usually 30 to 90 seconds long) more interesting by use of words. The script was the most powerful component of the News item. And so this lady's powerful script, her choice of words was what made me give her the money. I knew she was lying, but i wanted to actually believe that she was genuinely lost in Delhi and that my money would have helped her reach home.

4. This time a couple in Hyderabad: The idea of being lost away from home is fast catching up. This time it was a similar encounter in Hyderabad. As i walked to IIIT, i saw this couple with a small child standing besides the road. The man wore a dhoti kurta and Gandhi cap, while the woman wore a red saree. The style of tying a saree (locally called 'Kaashte ki saree') said they were a Marathi couple. The man was carrying a small baby in his arms. As i came near them, they spoke the first line of the script. I dont remember exactly what it was, but it meant “do you understand Hindi or Marathi, please”. Just one line was powerful enough to stop a stranger who knows either of the language. Short and crisp. I knew for sure that it was not a genuine case of a couple being lost in a city where they dont even know the language. But the opening line and the costume they wore was powerful enough to give me ten rupees to them. I chose not to get into a conversation with them. Somehow i knew the whole script would be very powerful. It would be powerful enough to make me give more money or make me feel horrible for not giving. And so i quietly went to the lady and pressed a ten rupee note into her rough, wrinkled palm. I didnt even dare to look into her eyes. The script, the costume and then the acting (expressions in her eyes) would have been too much. If Shahrukh Khan can read this, the couple were great actors.

5. The singer who moved people: His was the most meldious voice i have listened in my life. He was a blind man, singing an old hindi film song “Tu ek paisa dega, woh dus lakh dega”. His voice, the rythm and the way he sang it made the whole experience very moving. And it wasnt only me, other people in the train were also moved by it. And the best part is, this man knew perfectly well how talented he was. He had the confidence that he could move people's heart. And therefore he would move very slowly. He would stand at the same place for quite a long time, singing and waiting. And people would sooner or later give up their pretention and take out some coins from their pockets. By the time this man, approached my column, we all were already ready with a coin in our hands. We all loved listening to him, because when he left, we quietly smiled at each other, as if saying the same thing to each other “what a singer”. I remember, when i put the coin in his small, wrinkled palm half cover with a dirty white kurta, i pressed his palm (thankyou, dont go).

6. The one with Hindi songs in Kerala: This beggar was probably the most interesting i've come across and also the most confident. I was traveling in Kerala in Netravati express (coming from Goa, going to Thrissur). And all of a sudden i hear a beggar singing another of those old hindi songs. At first it all looked normal. The song looked familiar (used my many baggars), the voice was melodious too and there was rythm too. But then all of a sudden it struck me. It was Kerala, a Malayam speaking state, very very far from the Hindi speaking states, and this man chose to sing Hindi songs. Will people even understand the meaning of the song? Why is he not singing some Malayali song? Will that not be more effective? But all logics defied, this man was doing decent business. I dont know if people understood Hindi or not, but they were giving him money. Probably for the same reason, why i gave him. The idea and courage to sing Hindi songs for begging in Kerala.

7. The English speaking beggar: This was most recent and probably the most hilarious of the lot. A beggar, asking in English. “Dear Sir, just one rupee please” he would smile and say. He did not give the look of someone who is in desperateness, but rather someone who enjoys his work. Or rather more accurately, he had that look in his eyes enjoying to see the amazement in people's eyes. Everyone was just amazed to see an English speaking beggar. And this was not the only line he could say. He could speak other English sentences too. “looking for change in the pocket, madam” or “child give way to pass” were other sentences i heard. This was too tempting for me to resist. I had to, had to give him. We both smiled at each other as if saying, “nice work man”.” thank you”. When he left, a fellow passanger joking said “Angrez chale gaye, ise chhod gaye peeche” and we all laughed.

The two couples

It was a night of two couples and us.

Suman and I were returning from a film screening from the Goethe-Zenthrum, a German institute in Hyderabad. A documentry called “I want my father back”, had been screened there. It was on the issue of farmer suicides, focussing mainly on the Vidarbha region of Maharashtra. Govt. Estimates more than 2 lakh farmers have committed suicides in the last decade in the country. It is something which has been never witnessed in the 10000 years history of this land. Vandana shiva, in the film refused to call them suicides. She instead chose the word genocide. The film indeed was moving, specially for both of us. It again made us feel restless, feel a sense of hurry and maybe also a sense of guilt. On our way back we again (like so many times earlier), discussed what possible things we can do which would connect us directly to the land, to the ordinary people and also ensure our livelihood.

It was 9.30 while we were still in the bus. The mess would have closed by now, and so we decided to get down at Indra Nagar for dinner. We had Poori and Uttappa at the Udipi eating place there. The food was good. After that we thought of having filter coffee at this chai wala outside the shop. Two young boys served some 10 varieties of tea and coffee. People loved it. Almost everyone after dinner at Udipi stops for tea/coffee at this stall. We were among them. I ordered filter coffee, while Suman went for tea. It was there we saw our first couple. They had come there for tea like others, but they were different from all of us. And that is what caught our first attention.

The man wore a dhoti and a worn out kurta, while the woman had a green saree on her. The man must have been in her fifties, thin and tall with grey hair. The woman was half her height. She had a biggish bindi on her forehead. Around her neck hanged a mobile phone. They had come there for chai. I loved watching them. To imagine a rural, illiterate couple come out for a chai made me smile. I was just attracted to them. Quietly, hiding behind Suman's shoulder i observed them (as if watching a celebrity couple). There wasn't much talk between them. They enjoyed their tea quietly. We finished ours, paid the chai wala and left the place.

We decided to walk to IIIT, not far now. The weather was pleasant, like it is suppose to be in summers in Hyderabad. The hot day, had given way to a pleasant night. A cool breeze was playing with the trees, watched by the half glowing moon. The traffic had reduced on the road, and so the walk back was peaceful. We talked about this couple, we had left behind. We talked about the farmers again. We talked about our plans (yet again). The couple reminded us of the farmers we had seen in the film. What made them migrate to the city? What work do they do here? Where are the children? Where are the parents, the cousins, the relatives, the neighbours, the fields, the water stream or the well, the rains, the harvest, the festivals, the celerations. I guess all that had been left behind.

As we were approaching the IIIT main gate, we saw yet another couple there. A dhoti-kurta clad man, with a baby in his hand and a saree clad woman were standing outside the SBH atm. They looked marathi to me, by the way the woman had wrapped around the saree. We knew what to expect from them. We knew as we would come closer this man would ask if we know hindi or marathi (as if saying they are lost in an unknown land, struggling with unknown language). We knew if we stop to listen to him, he would start up with some sad story of his life and then ask for some money. They weren't first such couple we had encountered.

And so while we were walking towards them, we wondered what to do. We wondered how to avoid them, what to say, what not to say. To avoid the inconvinience we thoughts its best to avoid a conversation with them. And so we detoured our path. Went round them, keeping a safe distance to pretend not hearing him (as if we would have helped had we heard you) and entered the gate. But all this had made us extremely uncomfortable. We knew that it wasnt a genuine case, but only another creative method of begging. But what if it was a case of a lost family? We repeatedly told ourselves, that it was not a genuine case, but the question of “what if” would not go. And so we stopped. Suman said "lets give them 10 rupees", not to help them, but to help ourselves sleep in the night. I put my hand in the pocket, and a 10 rupee note came out. I turned back and walked towards them. Inside i thought i would go straight to the lady, hand over the note and turn back. I would not get involved in any conversation with them. Didnt want to give them a chance to start with their story (of being lost in the city), which i knew was not true. As i walked to them, i saw they had managed to stop a young man. I saw the man stop, listen and then without saying a word, walk away from them. Just as he walked away from them, i walked towards them. The lady first saw me. I walked towards her showing 10 rupees in my hand. She stretched out her hand, and i kept it on her open palm. She then closed her fist, crushing the note in her hand. All this may not have taken more than a second. It was good enough for me to capture the picture of her wrinkled hand in my mind. It is still very vivid. The hand said it all. I turned back, and walked away. Suman looked at me and i looked at him. And we walked inside the campus.

So what was the story of the couple i wondered? No, not the one they would have told us asking for help. But the real story. Who were they? Were they farmers who were forced to leave behind everything? Were they farmers who still had the courage to fight and not end their lives, who still had some hope left. What was the story of the couple we met at the chai shop?

Trip to Pingoli with Kanwarjeet

Kanwarjeet and I met in Pune last week, where we also spent 2 days with Shruti. Shruti told us then about some village near Kudal town in south Maharashtra, where somebody still makes Pata-chitra (or paitings of stories which are then sung). Kanwarjeet had also heard a similar thing long time back about a man in village Pingoli near Kudal. He thought maybe it’s the same place. And so when I met him again in Goa, we decided to visit this person in Pingoli village. Kudal is about 80km from Panjim.

We left home early at 6.30am with a cup of tea and one rusk. It was raining cats and dogs that time. We had to take a local private bus to a town Mapusa, from where we would get some inter-state government bus for Kudal. The short distance private buses in Goa are called rockets, but one cannot see a slower bus than them. Anyways we got one, which dropped us at Kudal bus station. Soon afterwards we got a Kadamba bus (Goa state transport bus) which was heading for Pune. It was pass through Kudal. These are fairly comfortable buses, with ordinary fair and just one door which is at the back. This bus had two drivers, one sleeping and the other driving the bus. One driver would drive till Kohlapur, and then the other would take over till Pune.

Bus rides in this region specially in this season is amazingly beautiful. There is so much of greenery, its almost like a highway going right through a thick forest. There is rain everywhere, lakes and ponds along roads, paddy fields full of water and palm trees, and hundreds of seasonal waterfalls falling along side the road. We crossed two rivers on way to Kudal, both almost touching the bridge from underneath. Kanwarjeet said, its highly likely we may not be able to return as the water may cross the bridge by afternoon. It was exciting for me to imagine that.

Its so much fun to travel with Kanwarjeet as he has millions of stories to share. And like me, almost all of them are his own personal experiences. And just like me he enjoys to tell these stories and even repeat them with same enthusiasm again and again. I do the same, often being pointed out by friends that I’ve already told them this story. And I would always think so what, hear it again. So when KJ would do the same, I would make sure to listen to it again with the same enthusiasm and not stop him in between.

We reached Kudal bus station at 9am. As both were hungry, we went to a small tea shop next to the station, had warm tea with vada paav, chhole bhaji and poha. Yummy and only yummy it was. Warm tea on a rainy day is even more better. Pingoli village is 4km from Kudal bus station, and so we decided to walk our way in the rain. It was so much fun to walk through puddles of water, protecting oneself from the water coming from underneath due to passing vehicles and not worrying about water falling from the sky. And walking gave us more opportunity to talk and laugh. We reached Pingoli after a 20min walk, only to be told that we have come to wrong place. We were looking for Thakar Adivasi Kalaa Aangan, which actually was on the Kudal Panjim highway and not in the village Pingoli. And so we had to go back again to Kudal and then another 2km on the highway to the Kalaa Aangan. This time we took an auto back, which was run by an old muslim uncle.

It was pouring heavily when we reached Kalaa Aangan. We had already called up shri Parshruram Gangawane about our arrival, the man we wanted to meet. He was there waiting for us. Parshruam ji is from a tribal community called Thakars, who main profession was to entertain the people. For this they had 11 different types of art forms. They would have puppet shows, shadow puppet shows made from leather, pata-chitras or paintings depicting all the scenes of Ramayana and Mahabharata, magic shows like hitting oneself with burning hunters and not being burnt, then various songs about Devi Bhawani etc. Theirs was a very well organized community which for most of the year traveled (except the 4 months of monsoon) from village to village entertaining the people. In return they would receive so much, that it would be impossible for them to carry all that. And so they would either exchange the access with currency coins (copper coins with hole in them) or just dump the access in the village and move on. The whole calculations actually showed me that they lived with a sense of prosperity. It again questions our conditioning where we would believe a nomadic life is basically a symbol of depriviation. The Thakars wore minimal clothes. The men wrapped around a cloth like a langote, while the women in addition to this wrapped another cloth on top to cover the breasts. The minimal clothes on body was not a sign of deprivation but of the climate in this region. It being a hot and humid all round year, people here traditionally wear just enough to cover the essential body parts.

Interestingly, as we talked more with Parshruram ji, we realized Thakars were not mere entertainers, but played a more significant role in the lives of villagers. He called him the ‘Prabodhakas’ or people who give Prabodhan. Thakars gave lessons on values, on a sense of right and wrong, on morals, on way of living, on life to the villagers. If one understands this correctly, one realizes it’s a community which is highly respected and revered by other communities (and not outcastes or untouchables). The village Panchayat when unable to resolve a dispute, would take assistance of Thakars to help resolve.

The Thakars also served as spies for the king. Since they traveled extensively, they had a general sense of pulse of the people, boiling issues and even conspiracies. So the whole community in a way was like a huge, vastly spread system of spies for the king. Imagine a spy who also gives lessons on values and morals, and also entertain people by telling stories of Ramayana and Mahabharata, helps resolve unsolvable disputes, and also carries herbs and shrubs as cure for many ailments. Such a community is ought to be valued in a society and cannot be treated as out caste or second level.

All this raised a fundamental question in my head. When I travel and talk to people like Parshruram ji, I get a different picture of the society (a rich, dynamic, healthy society). While when others travel and interact with the same people, they get a completely different picture (of exploitation, rape, untouchability, starvation etc). How is this possible? Do we talk to different people? Or do we talk about different times? Or do we ask different questions? Ravindra Sharma once warned me. He said if you ask them what are your problems, they will tell you about your problems. If you ask them what are your strengths, your knowledge systems etc then they will tell you about that. And so it actually depends on what questions we ask people, and the way we present ourselves to them. I think it’s important for me to go to them as no expert, as no problem solver, as not the one with solution, but go to them as a student and just live with them and observe. Im sure there will be so much for me to learn. Im here not discounting the efforts of all those people who have gone to the field with an intention to help. I in fact have great admiration for them and their courage. But im only trying to make a point that im seeing a completely different image of India than what ive read in books or have been told. I must also say, that everytime im doing an honesty check with in just to ensure im in the student frame of mind and nothing else. Ive just started a journey, and there is so much more to come my way.

Anyways, the most interesting thing that struck me and KJ was towards the end. When we visited a small museum maintained by Parshruramji, a small board outside read ‘Entry fee Rs. 20 (Rs.50 for foreigners). Photography allowed with special permission on payment of Rs. 50’. Parshruramji had maintained a small museum of various art forms of his community, which many people came to visit. He told us, that earlier the artists got so much that it was a problem to carry all that. Later post independence artists were being treated as beggars. And so now to survive he has put this fee in front of this museum. This was very interesting for KJ and me. The height prosperity was when they got without asking. Then the depreciated phase was when they had to ask people and therefore were treated as beggars. And now the even more depreciated phase is when they have put a price tag on themselves and their arts. I believe this state is worse than begging.

I remember this time during Pune visit, when I stayed over at chi’s place with Charzal and Appu also being present, Chi felt that she doesn’t know the art of selling herself when going for a job interview. In normal terms to sell oneself is actually a symbol of extreme depreciated state of living, but in today’s times it has become an ‘art’ to sell oneself at the best possible prices in job interviews. Appu tried to tell Chi that now she need not sell herself, where as Charzal was giving her tips on how best to sell herself when facing an interview.

I always thought Charzal was one fearless guy I had never seen before. He came all the way from Manipur to study Engg in Agra, not knowing the language, having no contacts at all. Yet he took no time to settle down there, make plenty of contacts, adjust to the new environment and finally pass out with an Engg degree in IT. He then struggled in Pune for 2 years to get a job, when everyone else of his batch got into one. Yet I never saw him worried or scared. He always lived like a free man with a confidence to survive no matter what happens. But this time when I met him, for the first time I saw him scared. Like everyone he was scared of being layed off due to recession, or not get an increment etc. This was shocking for me. His job, his salary, his performance in the company, the money he was now earning, his lifestyle, all that had actually made him weak from inside. I understand for urban grown people like us to feel scared of being layed off, but when people like Charzal or even Amit Tomar start feeling scared it really worries me. They are people who are well grounded, who have the skills other than push buttons on keyboard.

Anyways, our meeting with Pashruramji concluded by 1pm. We came out to the highway and decided to stop the bus there itself instead of going all the way back to Kudal bus stand. It was pouring. A Maharashtra state bus came, stopped, but it was so fully we could not get onto it. The bus went. More rain. More wind. KJ and I were talking about the state of community and the wrong vision of government since independence. And in between there were so many stories to share. Just then, don’t know what happened a truck passed by and I waved to it. It stopped. I ran towards it. KJ said are you sure. Yes of course, I’ve traveled for 5 years in truck in college. “Bhau Sawantwadi”? “Ho”. And we climbed onto it, keeping one foot on the foot stand and other onto to the cleaners coach. It was familiar for me to sit in there. Reminded me of time in Agra. We reached Sawantwadi bus stand in 30 min, which was 14km from Kudal. We were hungry, and so again looked for a smallish tea stall. Had pooris bhaji and hot tea. At the Sawantwadi bus stand KJ met an old friend Neelu who stays in Sawantwadi. She was typical Marathi lady coming from somewhere. And then came our bus to Panaji. It was a Maharashtra state bus coming from Dasgaon, going to Panaji. We got the last seat right in the end. As we traveled back, we noticed this time the water had almost over taken the bridge. It was scary at the first sight. Another 30 min and we reached home. It was 4pm till then. Yashodara was worried that Anant still hadn’t return from school. KJ said not to worry as he must be playing in some puddle of water. And he was right. The little fellow loves to jump in puddles and get drenched in the rain.

Later in the night during dinner, we told Yasho about our experience. She would connect to her own previous interactions with tribals in Kashalay, a place near Karjat near Mumbai. KJ and Yasho had lived for 5 years in Kashalay with the tribals. At that time they did not understood many of their things. But now, both Yasho and KJ were able to relate to many of those things. We all were very excited, and the dinner went on and on never to be finished. Anant was excited too seeing us excited. A happy family, and I was happy to be part of it for whatever little time.