Monday, August 10, 2009

Dolly & the Muslim Other

When Dolly first moved into the colony of Nizamuddin West, in New Delhi, friends and family asked why. She had no real answer except West is where you see the village that has grown into the Delhi, that is.
But, they said, aren’t you afraid. It is minority-dominated. You mean Muslim, she corrected, wondering how `political’ terminology permeated into every day conversations—like Gujarat `business’ for riots. A builder acquaintance said, hurry madam, get out of there, what’ll you do if it all blows up?
What can we do if it all blows up, she thought? As a nation where can we go? There is no place to hide. We have no choice but to make it work. There lies the quest for civilization---the search for the ideal. `Or what’s heaven for?’ said poet Robert Browning.
For Buddhists it is behaviour as a man that exalts you to the status of a boddhisatva. Clearly the behaviour of nations too is the desired key. Today we urgently need to introspect how we behave as a nation if we are to be in the company of great civilizations. It’s not really about politics this imagined clash of cultures, it’s about a perceived aesthetics, the aesthetics of behaviour, the chasm caused by `we’ against `they’. Take the `Jamia Nagar Incident’, when a vicious pamphlet circulated by ABVP called Vice Chancellor Mushir ul Hasan a `Rashtriyadrohi’ and for a case to be registered against him for anti-national activities. Reason: he offered legal aid to 2 students till they were proven guilty. Have we gone insane? By this yardstick will there be any patriot left? Will the actions of a few tar an institution with suspicion and disgrace? If a community is perceived to be beleaguered what would you do? Diffuse a situation or light the proverbial matchstick to a haystack.
Conversely though, the `victimization’ by actors Parvez Hashmi and Shabana Azmi is clearly playing to the gallery. They rally against the same Mumbai that propelled them to stardom (and for her a Rajya Sabha ticket) without prejudice. Have a heart Hashmi, Bhatt, and Azmi. Surely you were not victims then, so why now? To pin every disadvantage one receives in life to merely religion is not playing ball. But with media listening to this voice of expediency for TRP’s, who can resist.

If `expediency’ is the means to success then as Thich Nhat Hanh, the Buddhist Zen master, says as a nation we need to go into retreat, to reflect and understand our behaviour. Be it through the actions of Bajrang Dal or Indian Mujahuddeeen, we are desperately seeking `violent’ means to face the identity crises we have. Is this what we want to leave to our children? The legacy of the Gandhi-Nehru years was `azadi’. Today we ask azadi for what? Are we too desperately seeking an `India’, unable to define ourselves, taking recourse to purging ourselves as a nation?

In Nizamuddin we remember the saying: Humayun ki qabr pe chirag jalta nahin hain, (but) par Auliya ke Dargah par rohini hi roshinii. Awareness of the mind of the other is true compassion and where true compassion is, chirag bujh nahin sakte.



Thursday, June 11, 2009

Humayun's Tomb

Having been out for over two months Dolly was unable to get her walk cycle right. She was getting up at 2 am. sitting on her computer till 5 or six and then collapsing with fatigue to emerge at 8. The walk was surrendered, only in her imagination was she able to see teh freshness of the Garden, the red and white tomb rising from the green lawns and teh flutter of teh the neem leaves, the graceul arching of teh khajoor palms and the brisk walkers along with the ones doing yoga. But try as she might she could not get herself roused.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Dolly is back from New York. When she goes there it is like being in Nizamuddin; well in a sense, only teh locale is different. What's this big deal they make out of going to New York. She does the same things there. Watches a lot of Reba, strolls through Greenpoint and Williamsburg where she lives, buys ethnic Polish sausages, browses in discount stores, watches people, enjoys the farmers market and walks down Bedford, passing teh Russian Orthodox Church the crosses which light up on 4th of July fireworks which she can see from her apartmet window, the irony of it, and chats with the earinged doorman, John. Yes she feels as at home in Williamsburg as she does in Nizamuddin, almost as if she has bypassed the whole Mama Mia musical, Empire State Building New York and doved straight into the heart of teh sity and what makes it tick, the ethnic minorities--for her Polish and Hasid, who make the city a kingdom by itself.