styles of education

the following is a personal opinion not meant to be generalised. please keep this subjectivity in mind at all times.

the institution i study in may have a decently verdant campus, but that is way more than i can say about its ethos of teaching and the process of education.with a huge emphasis on teaching - learning is a distant second, it is easy to feel one is standing in front of a barrel of a gatling gun, not the ultramodern m197 gatling gun but something closer to the m61 vulcan or the gryazev-shipunov gsh-30-1 (neither horizontal direction should feel neglected). the barrage of information that accosts a student creates doubts even in the most pacifistic person regarding the sanity of the people who framed the course of development studies in this institution which reeks of confusion - at least in the layout of the twin campuses. while the old one harks back to the age of the soviets in terms of colour, it seems to transcend modernity in its use of space. the new one is rather boring and linear, modernistic, boring and rather (neo)liberal in its use of space. thoda confusion may ensue in the minds of people traversing through both for the first time.

coming back to the issue of education in this course, the material flies at one like embers if one is downwind of a roaring fire. there is scarcely time to move - in this case understand, think for self, etc. - before being singed or feeling saturated and saggy in the shoulders.

this is a far cry from the previous experience with education. while studying journalism in college with a MONUMENTAL campus - okay, i might be overdoing it - with one being more busy than i am currently, i never really felt under the kosh - whatever that means. the freedom of learning and thinking, allowing for indeendent inquiry and application made the experience rich and rewarding. while conflicts did exist, they are put to shame by the ones which are presently at work. the flexibility of the system made it work - for me, at least..

the names of the institutions have been withheld (only fom those who do not already know) to stop this from sounding like an advertisement. both processes have their own advantages, the latter definitely suited me more. in hindsight, going from the latter to the former in the space of 45 days did no favours. all in all, i root for the system which serves the students, not the administrators. jai latter.

seeing is believing

early in january 2008; a sumo rams down a questionable road, its passengers in mortal fear of losing more than just their bearings as they are flung every which way possible while the himesh blows his nose – high pitched umm, singing - through bellowing speakers on the journey from pandherkawda to bhadumbhri.


there are no gravestones to see. no markers for the dead. just the voices of the living dead. the monsters we have created. the things we call monsters. the monstrosities that invade our lives at different points of time and shake us out of our comfort-induced slumber. the forsaken.

the lull suits us just fine. it's only when that cry gets so invasive that we are unable to get it out of our ears that we cringe.
restless.

we pause, give it a thought.

introspect.

philosophise.

enough. let's move on. too much takleef this thinking. not fellow humans. just disturbing monsters.
my peace, my world. their troubles, different world. move on.

but how?

the engine drones. i feel like puking. partly the potholes. mostly th fact that i have to digest the story i have just heard.

non, not a story. just the truth. the unpalatable truth. something so virulent, so violent, something methinks i have no stomach for.

we roll on - more like blast past. so do i. my insides. me. everything of me.

the road has disappeared. the truck, surroundings, people - ______ none - all mirror my insides. the fields are green though. nature still bears some semblance of normalcy. man-made things stand destroyed. ______ ______.

Cattle. farmer. rare species these two.

a red flag on a bend.

we rattle.

we shake.

a solitary cycle on a bridge over a stream.

bhadumbhri appears.


the 'dashes' or ______ are due to the illegibility of certain words.

masthead musings

scribbled in the solitude of a train journey from chennai to mumbai on 7th november, 2007, in the empty space around the mastheads of two newspapers.

this was written before information seeped in and cynicism crept in.

the only reason this has been transcribed and can be reproduced is due to the efforts of a (adjective/superlative insufficient) person whom i have privilege of knowing. thank you.

tNIE

Covering Deprivation: How do I cover deprivation? I, who is morally deprived and – who once in a while, to make feel good about myself – put his hand on the shoulder of a sweeper – not a beggar, mind you this one works – and give her/him a 2 rupee coin, how is someone this ignorant and depraved to write about another's deprivation? How am I to understand deprivation and its numbers when I sometimes – no no, most of the time – am like an animal more? My covering deprivation is like the ignorant preaching science.

I can cover deprivation because I have the material capacity to do so and of course, some mental one too. How am I, one who doubts my own intentions, to cover an issue as sensitive as this? A person like me , who feels sorry or pity for the poor from time to time, how am I to write on them without feeling for them? Will it not be a grave injustice once more? A boy of 10 - 12, sweeping and asking for money in return.

O hard, hard cruel person. Feel like crying again? The moment is here again? False pity? Real concern? Mantralayam Road just passed by. Two girls selling ground nuts pass by. They seem happy. Am I to lecture them on the advantages of going to school? The Krishna ( I think) appears. You Beauty. Looks stunning. Water in a river. Water, green in colour, flowing in a business-like manner. No hurry, not too calm. The volume of water and its emerald green smoothness. The world is going past again. Brown and green fields. I roll past.

Do I have it in me to write on those who I feel I deprive?

tH

Well, I have realized there is diversity. There is unity in poverty. India, for its majority is Poverty. My journey ain't through the Gangetic Plains or the BIMARU states. This is a journey through 3 progressive southern states with their emphasis on Poverty Alleviation and Social Welfare. I have witnessed at least one individual beg for alms every 15 min, upto one or two a minute at some places even.

I am going to cry now. What I have witnessed in the past 10 hours sitting in this reserved compartment of the Dadar Express may not have changed my life. It has however shaken me up.

India is a country where unity in diversity is touted. It is as diverse as they come. Black, brown, bald, challenged, young, old, tiny, sweepers, sellers, beggars, urchins and the flow never ceases. The consistency of their arrival proves an unspoken unity among them. They are united in their battle against poverty, their fight for survival in the face of deprivation.

It is early Nov. and the fields are a hue of green, even yellow, in some places. If this were March, I would no doubt witness much worse scenes in the fields which I roll past. The devastation and deprivation is all around. Right on cue, one more soul with a need to fill. A young child, sweeping the floor under the berth, making entreaties to all sitting there.

Her fingers curve inward, seeming like claws, but she has to be less than 8. There is no innocence in her eyes, just the rationality that work equals pay. Does she know of school? I do not know. Do I bother to find out? Shameful. Am I going to cry? The moment has passed. I stop to understand myself. I need to figure out this inhuman wretched soul.

as soon as one replaces journalist with development practitioner, responsibilities and problems compound.

writing something like this today is really difficult.

with knowledge follows cynicism.

So, what's left of the 'left'?

it's quite the strange - to most. 'leftists' must definitely be galled, and stunned - by the logic of it all. why have they been booted and why have their voters scooted? why has the collective might of the parties, who can be said to subscribe to communist-marxist-socialist-maoist-leninist ideologies (hope not to have forgotten any), failed when faced with a finger and a column of buttons? especially at the time of a capitalist failure or recession?

did they not shout enough? did they wreck their chances by exhorting their followers down the wrong path? i might be committing sacrilege but did they get their economic policies wrong? or did they blindly axe their own feet? chop chop!

i do not know when buddhudeb's and the karats' tryst with destiny began but it has certainly not ended. from a personal point of view, yechuri , bardhan and somnath are more nuanced in their reading of political trends. also, as far as state party secretaries go, pinarayi is not exactly the most 'happening' or pragmatic choice. however, he still has a plethora of minions. some two years of leftist scrutiny and a massive dose of political history can be attributed to the formation of the above statement, but more on personal statements later.

it is quite surprising to note that while most members of the 'left' have deconstructed their loss in kerala and studied individual shreds, there is a disconcerting loss of opinion regarding their 'historic defeat' or some other such nonsensical term, in West Bengal. the silence is amusing and can be used to incite 'left' commentators. what fun!

so, what exactly does the 'left' have left to work with?

the power of "introspection", no "knee-jerk reactions", in other words they are not ready to overturn the boat - which seems quite fine actually - unless one wants a strong 'left' to exist in this country. since '77 with them being in power in bengal, trading kerala with the congress since '57 and being in power in tripura for but one term (if i am not wrong), the 'left' has gone to sleep in the rest of the country. a prime example is the intransigence of the 'left' in the region of telangana, a fertile base of support and movements - social, political and otherwise.

the 'left's' base in central india has also been uprooted by the merger of the erstwhile the communist party of india (marxist leninist) (people’s war) or cpi-ml(pw) popularly known as the people's war group (pwg) - remember charu majumdar? - and the maoist communist centre (mcc) who then formed the naxalites/maoists, call them what you will. losing tribal support and farmer support, the fractious 'left' - due their volcanic ambitions and desire for power - let loose a torrent of support that could have been built up for itself.

as of today, the 'left' is confined to 3 states where it still influences politics apart from the akg bhavan from where it is controlled. the 3 states are wb, kerala and tripura, the only place where it could hold on. it's vote share fell in all the states in which it was in power, though it held on to power in the tiny eastern state. it is also interesting to note that out of 3 states, tripura was the only success in implementing the nrega effectively. 'left' governments in the other two states have failed quite miserably - and shockingly - in implementing a program in which they had a huge stake at the time of its inception.

where did they go wrong? well, outside of their traditional bastions of kerala, west bengal and tripura, the presence of the left is marginal to none. they have the ability to win a few seats in andhra pradesh and tamil nadu but elsewhere their organisational capabilities have been decimated. The inhabitants of a. k. g. bhavan better rouse themselves quick. aping kumbhkarna is akin to embracing political wilderness.

wise men and brinda of a. k. g. b., remember nandigram? how about singur? the food riots? chengara? of course, there also exists the sachar committee report. there exist a multitude of problems but they choose to cling to power like leeches to blood. it seems as if the cholesterol of corruption and arrogance has seeped into the system.

why did the grassroots movements desert the 'left' or more aptly, why did the 'left' desert grassroots movements? avarice - yup; arrogance - check; national party base - oh please. that's where the problem - if any - lies. rebuilding the party as a truly 'national' party with a pan india presence does not seem to be a viable option for the 'left'. instead, the constituents of this block choose to hedge their bets in well-fished waters. trawling through a comfort zone is no succour for a party which is obstructionist at best and does not know how it wants to be constructive in national politics.

is there any real opportunity for the 'left' to build a vibrant pan-india organisation? of course. with around 70% of the populace barely surviving or tottering on the edge of existence, the obviousness of the answer should penetrate even Nelson's eye. the bourgeois-landlord alliance as congress is labelled would be appalled at such a thought, not to mention the bjp and other parties. they do not need to go to far back to see a communist making the largest in the land quake.

lets rewind some 27 years. one of the enduring mysteries of mumbai politics, datta samant, was leading a huge strike. surprisingly, samant had not aligned with the 'leftists' at the start of his trade union career (at least to the best of my knowledge). he aligned with tntuc and the congress (indi[R]a)* for reasons best known to him and those who were around him. however, after his experiences during of the 'emergency', he quit the congress (indi[R]a) and tread his own independent path unnerving congress (indi[R]a) with the idea of a people's mobilisation. success for approximately 2,50,000 workers would have led to a natural progression to do the same for dock and port workers at the gargantuan port abutting girangaon to the east. he was no sell-out. naturally indi[R]a was not too enamoured and two decades later, Phoenix Mills was reborn - a mall. it was an industry leader. again, do not choke.

labour conditions in india remain continue to debilitate and are quite pervasive as yet. the idea of the possibility of the formation a 'leftist' undercurrent is not that far-fetched if one can tie up the ideology of class with the reality of paani-roti-kapda-makaan. however, this will require mass-mobilisation and will necessarily involve work outside a. k. g. b. which those inside of it do not seemed inclined to do at the moment and even if they are, they do not give that impression anyhow.

the strategy of industrialisation that the cpi(m) led left front government put into practice needs some serious thought, not defending. wrapping themselves in cotton-wool and stuffing their ears with oil soaked-cotton will not only hasten, but ensure their demise. forceful acquisition of land from their primary constituency, farmers, will definitely assist them in - 'left' ko padi laat. this time, the voters have said poda.

the ideal strategy to ensure relevance would be to forget electoral power for the present and start building a strong, dynamic and flexible pan-india organisation. to an external observer, the flexibility seems to be lacking in spirit and content at the moment, which is why apart from the top leaders, 'left' intellectuals and academicians who are aligned with it have not been heard critiquing it, but are waiting for directions from the top or pb - politburo, not prakash babu.

in many states there remains a significant industrial base to work with. with the withering away of formal industry, informal setups have sprung up everywhere, especially in the 'jhoppad-pattis' and at the fringes of urban agglomerations. however, this segment of workers has no joint political backing as a group. this is just one example.

building a foundation and establishing an organisation will take much more than anything mentioned above. indeed, i cannot even conceptualise all the nuances involved. despite their reticence and their non-existent will to leave the confines of a. k. g. b., while the introspection may lie inside, the solution definitely lies outside.

* indi[R]a - indira herself, was always more important than india. therefore the R is in italicised caps. remember that adventure known as the emergency?

Voting ain't Activism

Middle class activism and vacuous statements by the elite had drawn much comment in the days succeeding 26th November, 2008. Debates and discussions marooned themselves in the inane, while generating a latent class consciousness which urban elites have been conditioned to ignore in its entirety. As doyens of the virtues of globalisation and individualism – which necessarily require a lack of realisation of actually being steeped in the same – most of them have erected invisible barriers which shield them from the oppression of truth. The barriers are akin to the invisible hand though not the kind talked of by Smith.

On 26th November, one truth came a-knocking. It was brutal in the expression of its validity. The pristine palaces thought to be safe-houses of the powerful and the mighty – darkened by the looming spectre of terror – were accosted by it. As the clicking of tongues and tut-tutting was insufficient in the face of this ‘alien’ phenomenon, pandemonium erupted and new set of ‘visual intelligentsia’ were anointed. They joined a rather lengthy and celebrated list of overnight intellectuals.

Fashionable and vocal in equal measure; their presence had permeated television sets and their comments – carving a niche for themselves – created a furore; a tornado in a glass of their own sweat which had drained from their well-hydrated bodies. As the beautiful people – at least in the eyes of the mainstream media – spilled out onto the streets defending their newly anointed icons of beauty and spouting their newly acquired knowledge of foreign affairs, self-sustaining activism, organic in character, was not an intrinsic part of the rational processes which had indulged in a willing suspension of disbelief, at least not for the majority.

Ranting and raving about the antics of people are not the primary reasons for penning thoughts. The ‘activism’ on display and the virtuoso performances in front of voyeuristic cameras need to be backed up by the exercise of the ballot. It remains to be seen if those baying for the cross-border utilisation of bullets will indulge in exercising their franchise with the ballot.

Why Vote?
The ramparts of pragmatism were throbbing with life on Thursday, 30th April, 2009. These ramparts of pragmatism lead to familiar destinations, none of them being a polling booth. They either lead out of the city or a dead-end as the drawbridges are drawn up to keep the dainty people shielded from the supposedly debilitating heat. Elections are great for the pragmatists in question – which are filled with the beautiful brigade. Why? It’s so amazing to be gifted a holiday. It’s absolutely thrilling that the election day holiday, coupled with a Labour Day holiday plus a weekend can be turned into a vacation. Why waste it? Utilise it in the best manner possible.

The neo-liberal, capitalistic regime or ideology calls for the withdrawal of the government, which is supposed to be controlled through economic might. Numbers do matter, but only if they concern money. The colour of the money does not manner, as long as it can help in twisting a few unhelpful arms and in prying open unyielding doors. What better way to cock-a-snook at the state than by not voting?

It might help if polling stations – at least those reserved for the elite – are air-conditioned. At the polling center where this writer cast a vote, there was a separate booth for the nearby slum colony. It must be mentioned that the queue before the other both was a python compared to the bulldog’s tail at the one where yours truly voted. The elite, covertly, demand that they be given an incentive to vote. They will, of course, from their heated seats of power shake their heads when the ‘poor and needy’ are seduced by the lure of money, booze and food but they will not accept that they too implicitly have demands for those who ask for their vote.

40.30%
Inorganic activism, forts of falsehood, ramparts of pragmatism and an overwhelming sense of victimhood or tragedy do not necessarily translate into votes. In fact, they do not even transform into concrete action. They are enveloped by the sham of symbolism; symbolism by itself not being a bad thing. Let us rationalise the whole chain of events and throw in a few hypothetical situations for effect. Try not to choke.

Let us suppose that the attacks of 26th November had happened in the months of April or May. What can we deduce from this random thought? A tongue-in-cheek look follows.

• There would have been less foreigners to aim at; the temperature has been documented to have an inverse relationship with the arrival of tourists in India.
• There might have been a lower number of high profile Indians too; most of them being away in their summer homes out of country.
• Why attack an area, wearing a huge haversack in the heat of summer, when one can train in the cooler climes of the Himalayas?
• There would definitely have been no candle-light marches. Absolute surety ensues from the fact that when temperatures hover in the mid-thirties (centigrade), no one in their right-mind (pragmatic) would care to stand by the roadside with a candle in their hand. Imagine the travesty carefully manicured nails and perfectly toned skin would have to undergo in the heat, coupled with the grime and dust of summer and the flies that hover around the silky smooth hair. Beautiful people survive in beautiful climes, not slime and sweat causes slime. Yuck, no!
  

Anyhow, despite the above idiocy, there might be truth in the statement about the absence of candle-light vigils in summer. It should be looked into and explored as a sociological phenomenon. It might throw up some interesting results. Following this farcical path, it must also be understood that situating an election on the first day of a four day vacation in the city of the beautiful people, was akin to asking for the moon from people who have always desired it. It was sheer stupidity to expect the ‘cultured’ elites, from the ‘tony’ constituency called Mumbai South, who are used to oozing flair and flexing their economic muscles, to actually step out of their pristine fortresses of falsehood and onto a platform which reduces their stature to one among the multitude. To them, it is a travesty of justice. Positions are gained to be utilised. Let the liberals (themselves included) accept this reality too. It is altogether different that they cannot accept the temporality and the transient nature of their power.

40.30%, even by liberal standards of laggardness, is a poor return for people who were willing to be photographed by the press in the cool weather of late November and early December. Perhaps, sensing the presence of the press outside polling stations, which are invariably and thankfully not air-conditioned, they did not want to be clicked when they were not looking their best due to the heat. Getting to the polling early in the morning is never an option as it is almost impossible to haul oneself out of bed for something which is low on the social and business calendar.

As we are in the middle of the impromptu four day vacation, i take your leave to do things which do not require me to rant, rave and act intelligent in general. However, it befuddles me to understand why it is so difficult to vote, apart from the reasons put forth above, of course. The forts of falsehood have shut shop for four days but business bustles inside. The ramparts of pragmatism will feel the rush of hooves, paws and tyres as people try to make it back by Monday. They will again begin their endless relay, until the process of voting accosts them in five months or so.

Candles, yes. Voting, no. Symbolism rocks ! !

Till then, as JJ says, sayonara.

Jai JJ

Someone somewhere heard my plight. As of 1st April, Takeshi's Castle is back on POGO. It is one of the two reasons i watch that channel, the other being the Pink Panther Show. Anyways, watching the thrill of someone master the 'single roller' or getting yanked by a cow in 'tug of war' is simply irresistible, especially with wise-cracks coming at 20 a minute from Jaaved 'motormouth' Jaffrey.
Do view it and laugh your guts out.
जय टीसी, जय जेजे ! !

Bum Bum-A-Bum Bum Aur Swaagatam

Kundi Oopar, Mundi Neeche

Takeshi's Castle. It's gone. My favourite show has been off air for over 200 days. I am mourning the loss of Javed Jaffrey, affectionately known as JJ, and his madness. The world, at least India, is poorer in the entertainment department for it.

My amorous relationship with JJ's insane commentary started more than 3 years ago. His comments were liable to start a small scale war in my anatomy, enough to produce explosions of laughter while my innards imploded. Empirical data collected by me and my lissome group of friends shows that everyone of us knows a few people who will sing JJ's praises as well as those of the show's original creators.

Those phrases, those mannerisms...

I cannot brood over this anymore or i will embrace depression.

Take Care TC & Jai JJ.

Sniff