Are we misogynists?

           

Are we a nation of misogynists? Every time I read news of a woman assaulted, a woman raped, a woman abused, a poor, famished domestic help subjected to harrowing torture by the मालकिन of the house (a case of same gender violence), acid thrown on some, a wife abused and smacked by her husband and in-laws and so on…this question haunts me. (This is not to say though that cases exactly opposite in nature where poor, trusting husbands are taken for a ride and are at the receiving end do not exist!) Leave aside Haryana’s notorious khap panchayats and honour killings in some of our northern states. This malignant virus of misogyny has spread even in our prestigious institutes of higher learning: Our well-known and esteemed Banaras Hindu University (BHU), for example. What a sorry spectacle it presented in the recent past. While the country was gearing up for the Durga ( a female diety, you must note) puja festivities, the BHU had turned into an ugly battle ground. Unable to bear it any more, the girl students had come out in the open to protest against unceasing acts of harassment, eve-teasing, abuse and what not by the male students. Most shocking was the sickening response of the administration and provocative, insensitive statements by the person of the eminence of a Vice-Chancellor of BHU. The police were no help to the hapless women students either. With misogyny running full and fast in their veins, they, as reports suggest, beat up and thrashed the protesters thereby adding fuel to the fire. Not just the famous BHU, most universities in our conservative north are known for gender discrimination, moral policing and the male predatory behaviour in all its ugly manifestations. There are hostel curfews, dress codes, no 'Wifi' facility, no library access after certain hours and so on. Indian daughters can’t dream even and aspire for an exciting new careers suited to their talent and aspirations because it is the exclusive preserve of ‘man’. There are several constraints: it is the elderly male in the family who will decide what career to choose; or the brother suffering from the same syndrome will put his foot down. Then there are fears of harassment, discrimination and exploitation and many other prickly thorns all along the road to making it to the top in our male-obsessed, male-dominant centres of learning.

                                             

    

Having said all this I must however hurry to say that we in Himachal are comparatively lucky. No doubt, the infamous, blood-chilling ‘गुड़िया murder case’ has been a blot on our peaceful state. Incidents of rape, domestic violence, wife-bullying and beating, and other kinds of torture and discrimination do happen and make us hold our heads in shame. In fact I am a sad witness to such  a case right near my own neighbourhood. But by and large, careerwise, the women students do enjoy relative freedom in opting ones of their own choosing. Most of our colleges and universities have an air of equality, mutual camaraderie and bonhomie. They have the freedom to dress as they like, mingle freely, rub shoulders with male students and participate in all events and activities with equal gusto and zeal. At a private university where I lecture a few days a week mainly for my love for teaching (with the additional benefit of students' youthful exuberance that rubs on me!), my heart leaps with joy to find this very kind of a happy, healthy ambience prevailing at the campus. Perhaps that’s the reason that on the educational front  at least, our Himachal is way ahead of some of our neighbouring states writhing under the vice-like grasp of obscurantists, religious zealots, bigots and the illiterate, obstinate, hookah-smoking, turbaned khap men refusing to shed their supermale egos  wrapped in thick folds of medieval, stone-age mind sets.

                                                    

   

                                                               

Well, I don’t want to sound too preachy with a long boring lecture on ‘misogyny in India’.  I only deeply desire my country to let its daughters breathe the free air, move with pride and dignity, dream their dreams and become equal participants in our country’s march towards progress and prosperity. When women in our rich past – recall the bold, vibrant and free-spirited women characters in our great epic the Mahabharat – could bask in the sunshine of equality and freedom, why not our  21^st century भारतीय नारी ??

                                                     

                                              ***

  
                                             

HP Assembly elections 2017: Will anything change for the better?

The HP assembly elections are round the corner. The climax is gradually building up. While our hill state basks in the glory of silvery autumnal sunshine of October-November, soon, very soon, political temperature will begin to soar…it already has, in fact. Loud cacophony packed with abuse and counter abuse, mutual mudslinging, accusations and counter accusations, lies and damn lies by the rival parties and contestants will split our ears and pollute our clear skies and clean air. Sheer propaganda lacking any substance will be unleashed on the credulous masses to divert attention and focus from the real issues that dog our state. The outgoing government will sing tuneless, jarring songs of “stupendous development” during its tenure and dish out reams of misleading statistical data and figures. The opposition will go all out to pull its leg and enlist govt failures in a mindless counter offensive just for the sake of opposing. Thus the slanging match will go on and on. Charges of corruption, money laundering, scams will be hurled at each other. But as you know very well, the leaders across the political spectrum have mastered the art of skulduggery and subterfuge. Howsoever serious and even if  under judicial scrutiny, they will wash off the taint of charges with  standard excuses and phrases like “political vendetta”, “political vengeance”– as if we are all fools – instead of coming out with credible point by point rebuttal of each and every charge that has been slapped  on them. And I repeat, this applies to all and not any single party or individual leader.

Further, as we can see, the political ‘biggies’ will ensure that  excepting very few noble exceptions, the bunch of men and women they will field from their respective parties for elections are known not so much for their merit, education, capability, vision or zeal for public good but one single criterion: loyalty to the supremo and the high command. Fielding candidates of mediocrity and of relatively low calibre is a win-win situation for the mighty lords who control the reins of power in their own political parties. Because then none of them will pose an existential threat to the ‘throne’ and fiefdom and thus the ‘dynastic principle’ will stay on and perpetuate itself. Not that leaders imbued with dynamism, dare and righteousness are not there. But in this rotten political system geared toward promoting mediocrity and chamchagiri, where is the scope for such leaders to take the lead?  Another unmistakable aspect has been and would be the caste factor. Candidates will be picked up for fighting elections on sheer caste calculations of the constituency rather than the suitability of the candidate to deliver on development of the area. Thus, yet again, the venom of casteism and regionalism will be injected into the psyche of the janta who otherwise want to get over with such kind of fissiparous thoughts and want to live in a harmonious, inclusive environment of आपसी भाईचारा and सदभाव. Then when the D-day will approach near, despite EC’s watchful eye, carloads of money and gallonfuls of liquor will be used on the sly to woo and win the voters.

What will again be missing in these elections?

A reasoned, cogent debate on the real issues and problems that confront the state.

A mutually agreed upon ‘common minimum programme’ for sustainable,  holistic development of the state that will be carried out irrespective of whichever  party assumes power.

How enlightening and wonderful it would be if the big leaders, or in other words the potential chief ministerial candidates of both the Congress and the BJP, volunteer themselves for a free and open debate on “the agenda of development for HP” on some credible national TV channel: NDTV for instance with Ravish Kumar, the suave but straight and fearless anchor, to moderate the debate. Let Ravish ask them hard questions on their respective vision, goals and the blueprint for development (and even on charges of corruption) and let the viewing public evaluate who has the better vision and the wherewithal to deliver. But I assure you none of them will ever dare do it. Hoodwinking the masses and feeding them on false hopes and promises is a far easier option, isn’t it? Further, sadly, none of the leaders or the parties will ever speak about preserving the rapidly declining ‘green cover’; of credible measures and safeguards against the natural calamities and catastrophes happening  with increasing frequency and intensity year after year as a result of degrading ecology and climate change.

Thus another batch of legislators will take over to enjoy power and fat perks, public would have been fooled yet again and once again the sickly, tired, rusty, creaky mill of governance will begin to churn out its usual bland, insipid, stale stuff in an exercise of बंदरबाँट  - a school here, a tehsil there - by the ‘Mr Chief Minister’ lording over his dummies and pygmies: all in the name of ‘development’.

                

***

Hoopoe, oh dear Hoopoe, where are you? This sad birdwatcher sorely misses you

                           

Lovely and loveable Hoopoe! I simply adore this bird. A small, myna-sized avian friend, it has such a pretty fawn-coloured plumage with black and white zebra markings hand-crafted by nature into an interesting geometric design on the back, wings and tail. A charming, fan-shaped crest on the head adds to its overall beauty and grace; the long, slender, curvaceous beak no less. On its plumage, stylish crest in particular (Hoopoe’s very own fashion statement, I would say), M Krishnan, one of India’s finest birdmen (next to Salim Ali) and known for his scintillating writings on birds/wildlife has the following to say:

“The very full crest is spread out into a flamboyant fan, then suddenly shut tight into a spike counterbalancing the curved line of the beak, this gesture being repeated again and again as if to relieve the tedium of the long, pedestrian search for food. There are many birds with highly emotional tails, but here it is the head that wears the crown that is uneasy. The folding and unfolding of the volatile crest express the entire emotional range of the bird, and each passing mood. I have seen a Hoopoe indulge in this play with its crest six times within a minute for no reason that I could discern, but there are rules regulating its conduct in search of prey, or when it takes off from the ground, the crest is shut close, and just before alighting from flight it is fanned out as fully as it can be…

Hoopoe on the lawn is strikingly decorative as any bird of strange plumage, though it is fulfilling a daily need and being useful to us-- how rarely does beauty go with routine need and utility! As the bird moves forward on invisible feet, the slanting sun touches it, turning the fulvous sienna (brownish yellow) of its breast and crest to liquid gold, revealing fully the emphatic contrasts of black and white in the back….”
That was the distinguished M Krishnan on Hoopoe.

I, a humble Palampurwalla,  often used to meet this bird in the open grassland near Differpat (beside the road from SSB chowk to  Neugal café, Palampur) on my morning walks and feel thrilled by its sight. At times a Hoopoe would - out of nowhere - descend on the outer, grassy part of our courtyard in search of worms, grubs and insects- its staple food. However, sadly, I see this bird no more. The large sloping meadow at Differpat now supports two eye sores:  a government tea nursery and a big PWD store. Some buildings too have come up virtually obliterating this patch of green where once sheep and cattle used to graze and young boys and girls played their छुपन-छुपाई, स्टापू, फिड्डु and other such rural games now almost extinct. Since this (shamlat) pasture-land afforded a spectacular view, I often took an evening stroll too and sitting on a rock watched the preternatural bliss of a setting sun.

Quite often I wonder and worry why this dainty little bird, once quite ubiquitous, has become so elusive now? Has it become another victim to the fast expanding jungles of concrete? Has it suffered serious habitat loss? Has its population dwindled to alarmingly low levels? If so, we would have lost – or might do so in the near future - not just a bird that was not only a picture of loveliness but a great friend of the farmer as well. For, many of the crop pests that worry the farmer are Hoopoe’s favourite food.  

Well, if you love watching birds like I do - or even if you don’t - do look for this one on any open grassland or a pasture: it is so easily, unmistakably recognisable. Greet it and welcome it.  Appreciate the beauty of its plumage and its graceful movements especially the fanning out and then shrinking back of its fabulous crest (as so aptly described by Krishnan) and how it goes about pecking the ground with its artistically carved beak. You will be mesmerised. And, as you walk by, please don’t forget to say to it my Hello and tell: “Hi Hoopoe! Subhash, your old friend, loves you so, dearie; and misses you too. Do show up to him some  day.”

                                                     

                                                      ***

          Beware! I am a 'lover'

I am in essence a ‘lover’; and rather an impish and incorrigible one! Well, I think we  are all indeed born to love. It is another matter though that in the course of our life’s journey myriad influences - some sweet, some sour – that impinge upon us give a defining shape to our personality and mind-set. That in turn determines whether one ends up predominantly as a person of love and inclusiveness or the one full of prejudices, malice, violence, hatred and contempt.

As for me, of my many loves, love for the beautiful bounties of nature both big and small, probably comes foremost. And blessed and lucky are we to belong to this part of the globe where mother nature has been so kind and generous to give us its very best: the majestic Dhaualdhar, the hills, the valleys, the rivers, the khuds, deodars and pines, such a bewitching diversity of plants, birds and animals and above all the charming, hospitable, warm, friendly and beautiful men and women to fall in love with. What an ethereal delight it is to go out for a morning walk, inhale the limpid, pine-scented air, pass through the quiet loveliness of the sprawling green carpet of tea gardens and feast your eyes on the first kiss of a golden ray striking the snow-laden mountain crest! How divine it is to perch on a rock of a hill slope and look at the crimson orb of the western sun gently slide behind the silhouette of trees and hills and illuminating the stray wandering clouds by its red-hued incandescence for a fleeting few seconds. Those moments cast a magic spell difficult to put into words.

                                           

Books come second. And my love affair with them has been long and most rewarding, and without having had to suffer any heart breaks! The very sight, smell and feel of a good book transports me to an exclusive world of exquisite pleasure. A thought-provoking passage or a story, a witty barb, a sharp retort, a pleasing metaphor, a pithy, life-revealing philosophical observation, a catchy turn of phrase, some rich tapestry of imagination in a poem, elegant prose make book reading a source of rarest of life's delights. And my range is wide and varied: from autobiographies to fiction to travelogues to mythology to science…in short any stuff that is inspiring or stimulating that tingles and tickles my cerebral cells; I  can - by way of a dessert - also slurp something titillating even, if not vulgar. I have read some and want to read many more.

I love a bit of pen pushing too - both small prose and simple little poetic flourishes - despite my very limited writing abilities. It helps me unwind and give vent to pent up feelings, deeper emotions, and anger and rage on the personal, social and environmental issues that confront us, most of which I share with you all and urge you to be proactive about.

Company of good friends comes next. I don’t have very many. But dearly love the few I have. It is sheer joy to spend time with them and enjoy their empathy, warmth, good humour, jokes (vegan as well as non-vegan!), anecdotes, free-wheeling chat on current events, some light banter, some gupshup and so on. The pleasure becomes manifold, if there is a good drink to boot.

I have long cherished and longed for the company of women-friends but have been singularly unlucky. Perhaps my overwhelming, blushing shyness has been the main stumbling block. (I do however have an enduring and mutually fruitful long-distance ‘exchanges’ with some of my ex-students, a few of whom have been noble, kind and sporting enough to put up with my idiosyncrasies!) I think the company of a woman of ‘substance’ and good learning, cerebral, enlightened, uninhibited, and not suffering from male-mistrust-syndrome can catapult you to heavenly heights of ecstasy and inspiration. She can trigger the flow of creative juices in you and make you do wonders in life. Conversely, a mean, parochial, conceited, suspicious, deceitful, hypocritical one can despatch you to infernal depths of doom and gloom. (To be dead honest, supercilious  women [and men] masquerading as 'religious saints' frighten and scare me.)  In the insular, conservative milieu that we inhabit, the former kind is a rarity. Moreover, in the present times when crimes and brutal violence against women have become almost daily news, the prospect of finding a truly enlightened feminine soul and striking a friendly, mutually rewarding chord with her don’t seem too bright.  But if  you do bump into one, go all out to woo her though I would be quietly very jealous of you!

Lastly, as my profile says it too, I adore my tipple: some 'soulful sipfuls' to round off the day with when I can give free rein to my flights of fancy, fantasize about and weave my utopias and be in my fragile but sweet little 'love-world'. 

Well, there is a lot more to write on my ‘loves’ but some other time...perhaps over a drink!

            I am a godman

     

I am a godman, listen you one and all,

Bend and bow, lest from my graces, you fall.

Am a God’s true messenger, His blessings on you I shall shower,

Touch my feet and worship me well: both with money and flower.

No doubt I was born poor, indigent, weak and hungry,

But now I am a ‘Miracle Baba’ as known to all and sundry:

A spiritual guru in my own rights and of a world-renown,

With wealth, power and mass following in almost every town.

To my guru - now no more - I am ever so grateful, for helping me make the grade,

Who taught me some useful mantras and clever tricks of this wonderful trade.

People adore me, worship me and sing hymns in my glory and name,

Mantris, santries and big babus seek my blessings for health, wealth and fame.

For me it is a just a sleight of hand after long practice– a conjuror’s trick,

To roll out a gold ring or a watch tucked behind my sleeve- with just a wrist’s flick.

But for the gullible, Baba-crazy world, it is a miracle good and true,

Suits me fine as it draws men and women of every shade and hue.

To the sonless couples and swooning women I offer the gift of holy ash,

Costs me nothing (being a bonfire residue) but earns me bagfuls of rich cash.

My word is holy and my diktat final and binding for the foolishly faithful,

A mantra whispering god incarnate I am to the paying bhaktas ever so grateful.

But being after all human, when carnal lust does haul me over passion’s hot ambers,

Easily, as lord Krishna’s avatar, I handpick eager gopis to be lead to my inner chambers.

But (curse befall them!)  the media’s shameless  eye upon us of late, fills me with much dread,

In Kaliyuga, though God’s very own, still with caution this path of (sinful) bliss I need to tread.

Thus our credibility and (feigned) powers for miracles suffer due to media’s sharp tooth and claw,

Besides being exposed to the prospect of long term jail under the cruel instruments of law.

Shall, I wonder, in such tragic way my wealth, name and fame, glory all be gone?

Or will some gullible politician in power usher me back into the good old dawn?

The present election winds though do rekindle in me a flicker of heart-warming hope,

My sagging fortunes may turn with the enthronement of a good new Baba-bhakt Pope.

                                           ***

Caring two hoots for the rules and norms the HP cabinet on 27 September, has signed the death warrant for the tea gardens; and as news reports say one influential owner of Dharamsala is the immediate and direct beneficiary. What a shame! What arrogance! What abuse of power and  authority! Have  the sane and sensible people of HP, the environmentalists, the NGOs, all gone to sleep? Will the leaders of opposition rise to the occasion, protest and oppose this? Will they promise to nullify this deed if voted to power? Will the HP High Court take suo moto notice of this blatant violation of rules by the govt to appease a powerful teagarden owner and not let it get away with this? Will some good Samaritan file a PIL? I hope and pray that something happens and this disaster-wrapped-in-tragedy is averted.

                          ***

Plastic wins and our good old leafplates (पत्तल ) lose out

Are the days of relishing the Kangri dham served by the dhoti-clad boti and his team on fresh, green leaf-plates (पत्तल) now over? Days, when on a neat and clean, cow-dung plastered, sunny courtyard, we squatted in rows and slurped steamy hot madras, dals and the khatta?  Well, more or less, yes. Over the years, those absolutely lovely, inviting and health-safe leaf-plates have given way to ugly plastic plates: simply because plastic plates are cheaper and easy to get from the market and so convenient to use. (Cheaper yes; convenient by all means; but what are the health costs?) And to make the whole picture thoroughly revolting, instead of those open courtyards in the rapidly urbanizing countryside we now have the shamiana-canopied grounds covered with those dirty, dusty, grimy, over-used and utterly unhygienic,  green ‘carpet-spreads’ where we sit and eat out of the plastic plates.  Plastic, I hardly need emphasize and repeat, is carcinogenic; the low grade type but cost-effective used for plates/thalis etc. even more so. Secondly, plastic, being non-biodegradable, is an abominably notorious environment polluter. Plastic discards uglify our hill slopes, forests, khuds, kuhls, roadsides and even the pristine wildernesses of our beautiful countryside. They pollute our soil, water and air, and garbage dumps with plastic leftovers attract monkeys, stray dogs, birds and vermin; cows end up having their guts choked with plastic. (No wonder that much to the alarm of scientists, large chunks of polluting plastic have been discovered  far up at the North Pole. The fear is that when ice melts, this plastic will be released into the Arctic ocean.) But the sad fact is that despite this awareness and knowledge about the hazards of plastic, we, the urban elite, caught in the rat race, our life’s priorities topsy-turvied by greed, life of ease, and a mad scramble for materialistic gains at all costs, use plastic with gay abandon for the weddings and all other kinds of celebratory occasions without a second’s thought about the hazards and damage we are inflicting on our environment and society. 
Now coming back to our vanishing leaf-plates, though I don’t claim any scientific evidence, I have a personal theory howsoever fallacious, silly and ludicrous that perhaps the leaf-plates also soak some of the extra oil and fat that our dhams have in good measure – while plastic can’t and doesn’t – and help you enjoy your dham without accumulating an overdose of unwanted calories and life-threatening cholesterol.

In short, as the news report in The Tribune (25 September 2017) indicates, we are not just being callous about our own health and hostile to the environment, we are also driving the men and women of our villages who make those leaf-plates, out of their livelihood. If the present trend continues, there will  be no hands left to make those plates and gradually this  tradition will be lost forever. Let us therefore, reverse this unhealthy drift and switch back to the old practice by taking a little extra trouble to procure and use our good old pattals for our feasts, weddings and parties.Happy, healthy (dham) eating!          

***

Cheers! Death sentence on tea gardens is averted for now but...

The Kangra valley must have heaved a huge sigh of relief at the news item that the HP cabinet in its meeting held on 18 September 2017 decided against allowing the sale of land under tea gardens of the chosen few. If not my petition which I had launched on change.org against this government move, maybe at least our prayers were heard. (And at this juncture I would like to heartily thank all my friends who stood up and signed the petition.) It is indeed wise and prudent of the HP cabinet to have  resisted the pressure and desisted from such an unsound move with terrible environmental costs. Wise and prudent for its own sake also because elections are around the corner and the present government can ill-afford to rub the पब्लिक  - 'जो सब जानती है' - the wrong way. So may be for a short term, the death sentence that was likely to be pronounced on this ‘green treasure’ of the valley has been averted at least for the time being. But the enlightened citizenry must remain vigilant and proactive to thwart such an attempt should it rear its head again…which it will, sooner or later. Being fence sitters and fuming and fretting with impotent rage will not help matters. Eternal vigilance is the price we have to pay for protecting and preserving our nature and its priceless wonders which help us keep our sanity, well-being and aesthetic health intact in this screwed up world. So my dear fellow citizens of Kangra, arise, awake and stop not, and do not let the  politicians of any hue befool us, take us for a ride and get away with their environmental misdeeds and misdemeanors: for posterity’s sake if not for ourselves. And we can do it in our own little, discreet, dignified ‘Gandhian’ ways without confrontation and street fighting.

                                                    

...But why land plots for legislators?

However, as we begin to put our hands together to clap our masters for the good deed, the good feeling engendered in us is at once dissipated and replaced with disgust by another act of the government in the very same meeting. As if the doles, perks and privileges being already enjoyed by our state’s lawmakers are not enough, the obliging cabinet in another grand gesture of generosity decided to offer them yet another bonanza: plots of land for homes at cheaper rates. When this already privileged class is already having the exclusive benefit of soft loans at dirt cheap rates of interest, what is the Goddamn rationale behind this act of munificence? Perhaps, with the election dates now closing in, the worthy legislators are in desperate hurry to grab whatever crumbs they can lay their hands on in this open and free loot, before the model code of conduct comes into play and puts paid to their dreams of a life of luxury and splendour at the cost of hard-pressed taxpayer’s money.

To conclude, I commend the government and the sane heads in the cabinet that helped good sense prevail and prevent the tea-garden sale, but I express my deep anger and anguish at the second move. 

                                                           

                                                      ***