And so it is...

In work, as in life in general, what is sometimes most important, more important than the victories and achievements, awards and money, is the dignity and grace with which we conduct ourselves along the way. Whether we can look at ourselves in the mirror without a sense of guilt or shame, whether indeed we are capable still of any amount of objectivity when it comes to ourselves.
It is this that I realized on a recent project that I was on. Perhaps I had a sense of it already, even if only theoretically, but difficult situations tend to reaffirm our beliefs. Or perhaps test them. And a test it was… one that I barely survived. Certainly would not have without the unfailing support and caring love of the man I was working under, and who I shall forever be indebted to, for everything that he was for me, and continues to be.
I often feel that I have been supremely lucky in finding the people that I have in my life, people who genuinely care about me. But more importantly, good people, with love and compassion in their hearts. The world’s a beautiful place because people like that exist and some of them are gracious enough to take lost souls like me under their wings…

And I travel by the same trains, Part 2

A rant from a long time ago... written on January 26, 2009

H’s brother died today.
I don’t know H too well; he’s a part of the Grip team that I have been working with on the last two shoots. He’s a young boy, all of nineteen, quiet and unassuming. And forever smiling. Today I got to know that he had a younger brother, a brother he lost to a local train accident.
This is about as close as I have come yet to my fears being realized, and now I am angrier and more scared and helpless still. Why is it so? Why is human life so worthless in this country? How many deaths does it take for us to sit up and take notice? Why are small numbers over a period of time so easy to ignore?
It seems to be a pattern. Small offences are forgivable, it takes a big jolt for people to really react. It’s as if we become habituated to things, and learn to accept them, because we feel so powerless to do anything about them. So we react with anger and outrage to bomb blasts that kill hundreds in the same local trains that claim hundreds of lives per month anyway. Somehow these hundred deaths are worth reacting to, their stories worth telling, their families worth supporting, while the other nameless faceless ones who lose their lives in the simple act of leading a normal life on a normal day go unnoticed because its something we have got used to.
Let me try and understand this. I read the papers, mostly HT, and I listen to the news on TV occasionally. And then there is the internet; chain mails, and Facebook groups. There seems to be a lot of anger in the people, especially about the recent attack in Mumbai. And what is it exactly that people are reacting to… the deaths, and the lack of security, the inability of the establishment to deal with terrorism, and to react to emergency situations.
I would have imagined however that there would be curiosity about finding the root of the problem, or atleast a drive towards it. There is most certainly a rise in terrorism. There is also a rise in violence in general, and in the crime rate. There is a rise in intolerance, whether it is towards another human being, or an entire community. And there is a rise in the concept of instant gratification. It’s a reflection of the society and the times we are living in.
Inconveniencing people brings instant gratification. It disrupts their peace, and they react immediately and strongly. And killing near and dear ones is the greatest inconvenience one can cause. If you inconvenience a critical mass of people, you get a certain amount of reaction. A few years ago, a few AK 47s would have sufficed. Then came the bomb. Now its serial blasts. Every time however people got used to it, and the reaction diluted. So I guess the brains behind the terrorists had to get more and more creative about it. They had to keep increasing the critical mass. When serial blasts stopped eliciting the desired response, they decided a change of tactic was in order. Some bright fellow came up with the idea of a sustained attack that would last a long time, a siege, so to say, of a place where the wealthy and the noticeable hang out. November 26 was born.
What next? Serial blasts across the nation?
(I still think the most creative was 9/11. That was a stroke of genius. Or maybe it was obvious to a more disruptive mind than mine.)
And towards what cause? I’m not entirely clear…
There are several points I am trying to make here. The situation is so complex, and there is so much to react to, that it makes me incoherent. I hope I can be excused for it…
The first is the rise in intolerance. It didn’t come about overnight. Nor is it confined to a single act. Its around us everywhere. Its what our children are growing up watching and imbibing. It’s there on the roads when we don’t allow a car to overtake, or grab a parking space. It’s there when we make a run for a bus instead of standing in queues. It’s there when we bribe government officials to get our water connection ahead of people before us. It’s there, and every new generation will be more intolerant that the one preceding it if we don’t accept and address it soon.
The next (ironically) is acceptance. We have learnt to accept injustice, even crime. We have become quietly submissive to restrictions on our daily lives, than fight for our freedom and dignity. So it is than women are afraid to step out after dark in Delhi, or people in Mumbai won’t voice their dissent against the likes of the Shiv Sena or the MNS, or Mayawati in UP or Modi in Gujarat. The force we have to fight is either too large and obscure, or too powerful to fight against. The fight seems too long drawn out, and the rewards too elusive, besides the fight is itself as thankless as it is fraught with danger. Faced with such odds, it’s hardly surprising that people make the choice that they do.
The next is insensitivity. As long as something doesn’t affect us directly we ignore it, or don’t give it its due, until it grows so large that we can’t ignore it anymore. Take the case of the Kashmir problem, or the insurgency in the North east or the Maoist movement in many states.

H’s brother wasn’t the first to die in a local train related accident, nor will he be the last. Accidents will keep happening, and people will keep getting injured and dying, a few everyday, until we decide to do something about it.

People like Us

While reading the paper today, I came across several times, and in different articles, the same word: vulnerable. Whether it was somebody driving their daughter to school, or hanging around with friends in a pub, or having fun at garba celebrations, the people in this country have a new fear: that of terror.
Its somewhat new, atleast to people in cities likely Delhi and Mumbai, though some pockets of the country have been familiar with it for awhile… and has only recently reached a stage where the common man, ‘people like us’ have begun to feel unsafe in their very homes. Actually it is probably this attitude which has led to this situation. There’s no denying the fact that out country is multicultural, with cultures sometimes so different that it becomes difficult to completely identify with each other’s problems. And that probably is why in the fast growing, economically well off cities, where it was possible to turn dreams to reality, even the common man chose to ignore and deny the problems of his fellow brother. Everytime there was a massacre in Kashmir, or a killing in Bihar, or a rape in UP, or burning of a Christian missionary in Orissa, or a sati in Rajasthan, or a naked protest march in the North east, or an earthquake in Bhuj, or tribal lands taken away, or riots in Godhra, or the depletion of the ground water table in Kerala because of a multinational soft drink company’s irresponsible manufacturing practices, or farmer suicides in Vidarbha, or the floods in Bihar… the list goes on… we treat it like it’s someone else’s problem. We convince ourselves that we are helpless to do anything anyway, and don’t even so much as raise our voices even when we see a tragedy, or injustice being done in front of our own eyes. We further push the marginalized to the very edges of society, while we are busy with the important business of earning our livelihood, or getting a new haircut or buying car, or discussing the even more important implications of Saif Ali Khan’s tattoo, or Prakash Karat’s opposition of the Nuclear deal with the US, neither of which we can claim to understand. We have informed opinions about how Mamata Banerjee is a hindrance to development, without fully understanding the implications of the land takeover on the farmers who she represents, about Narendra Modi’s criminal ways, without understanding what makes him such a popular leader in Gujarat, about the insurgents in the North east, without understanding why they choose to call their organization a ‘Liberation’ front.
We have been playing living room politics with these people and with their very lives for far too long. It was only a matter of time before they got frustrated at being ignored and sidelined and decided to walk into our very living rooms so that they may finally be heard.

How to spot a teenager...

A couple of days ago I read a shocking piece of news. While doing age determination tests on women rescued from prostitution rings, doctors realized that the ‘physical’ age of these women was different from their ‘mental’ age. I found the use words rather curious; it could just be a physical or mental deformity, right? It became clearer as I read further; these girls were in their teens but looked much older due to the introduction of hormones in their bodies, to enhance general growth and features such as breasts, leading to fuller bodies at a much younger age. In fact they are even injected with the male hormone testosterone to increase their sexual desire. However the level of testosterone in female bodies is minute, and therefore these practices often lead to an overdose, causing such abnormalities as hoarse voices and facial hair.
How sick are these practices, of flesh trade and forced prostitution? As if all the physical and psychological abuse that these women are subjected to is not enough, there are now ways to physically alter their growth… their adolescence is all but lost anyway, even the tell tale signs of age, that which would allow the more compassionate to interact with them the way it ought to be, is now being messed around with… not even the mirror would be much of a friend anymore.

The next day there was a news item about the increase in flesh trade following the flooding of the Kosi river. Apparently relief camps have become hunting grounds for pimps looking for fresh ‘maal’. A people in distress would indeed be easy to manipulate.

Cinema of prayoga

Attended this very interesting session yesterday… it was said to be an evening of cinema of prayoga (http://www.expressindia.com/latest-news/New-pinch/321754/), films by Ashok Sukumaran and Shaina Anand, curated by Amrit Gangar and held at the National Centre for Performing Arts. Their works however can’t be called ‘films’, in the strict sense of the term, even if one were to widen the gamut by terming them experimental. Though experimental and imaginative they certainly were. Their works can perhaps be described as media interventions or interactive/ installation art. And much like art, they seemed to have little ‘relevance’ though the inherent ingenuity and yet simplicity was marvelous.
Since they presented several projects, its difficult for me to write about all. I found Ashok’s (http://0ut.in/) interactive roadside installations involving electricity rather heartwarming. The connections and interactions they necessitated between people, mostly strangers, and often from entirely different socio cultural backgrounds was wonderful to see. Since this was public art, with free access for anyone who chose to stop and be a part of it, it led to a cross section of people reacting and interacting with the experiment as well as among themselves, united only by their curiosity and sense of participation.
Shaina’s (http://chitrakarkhana.net/ ) works were less obscure and rather more ‘useful’ in many ways. Certainly easier to analyse and use to one’s advantage, though precisely such interference by the State in the public life of the common man, was probably her provocation for the ‘surveillance’ camera series of works called ‘Khirkiyaan’ (http://chitrakarkhana.net/khirkeeyaan.htm). I found this series very interesting. This was more direct interaction, with both sound and video. She hooked up four cameras and television sets with split screens showing images from all four cameras. These were installed within a 200m radius of each other, in different neighbourhoods in Delhi. There were also mikes, allowing real time interaction between the people in front of the camera. Depending on where the cameras were placed, this led to very interesting conversations among the people involved. This was local reality tv with a twist…
I’m not sure of the inspirations or provocations behind their works. But they certainly are doing some fairly interesting stuff.

Shoppers, Stop!

Shoppers’ Stop advertisements never cease to amaze me.
They are distinctive, black and white images with a tag line, and you can make one out from a distance. The brand recall for Shoppers’ stop is amazing.
Several of them are also brazen and in poor taste.
Sometime ago I had seen one with children playing with toys. ‘Keep them quiet, avoid noise pollution’ or something to that effect, ran the tagline. And today I saw one which showed a woman sitting by the side of the road in a micromini and high heels, with a guy in a motorcycle in the background, who had stopped and had turned around to look at her. The tagline read ‘Wear a short skirt. Hitchhike. Save fuel.’
I fail to see the humour in either. If at all they encourage dangerous trends. The first one encourages parents to fulfill a child’s needs and demands by gifting her toys, an easy way out, and potentially very damaging to the way the child learns to view relationships. The second is totally out of context in India. If a girl tries to do what is suggested in the advertisement, she won’t just get a ride, she’ll likely get abducted, raped, and murdered. One could argue that they are not to be taken seriously just as Sardarji jokes are not, but somehow I find them in poor taste.
Unfortunately the whole Shoppers’ Stop campaign is beautifully executed. It’s simple and classy, and I suspect, pretty much a success. That’s what makes it even more disturbing. Just like the Pond’s White Beauty campaign.

As an aside, let me mention that I have a renewed sense of respect and admiration for all those Sardar boys and girls, who grow up listening to Sardar jokes, and learn to take it sportingly, even when they know that they are some of the smartest people around. A dear friend of mine who is a Sardar with a razor sharp mind and a sense of humour to match, often refers to it as a form of racism. He’s got a theory that I have come to respect. He says that one of the reasons why Sardars are able to do so well in foreign countries, even in the face of extreme racism is that they have learnt to deal with it, because they have faced it in a different form all their lives on their home soil.
It’s something to think about.

To each what he deserves...

I have been meaning to write about the recent controversy regarding Jaya Bachchan’s remarks, and its aftermath, but for one reason or another, didn’t get around to doing so. In hindsight, perhaps that’s exactly how it needs to be treated. The emptiness of Raj Thackery’s argument is apparent to any sensible and responsible citizen of the country. Why repeat what has already been said umpteen number of times. This attention is exactly what Raj seeks… perhaps a better strategy would be to deny him what he knows he badly needs: press. Report what needs to be reported, but give him as little coverage as possible. That might be a real blow to him.