The paper today carried an article about a 5000 sq ft reading room and library in Bandra. A reading room! In Bombay! Brought memories flooding back. I don’t remember the last time I was in one of those- probably the library at FTII, back in 2006. And yet some of my best childhood memories are to do with books.
In Apeejay, my first school, my favourite periods used to be Sports, Dance, Art and Library! We would have one library period a week, and were only allowed to issue one book. This of course was just not enough. So Ritu, the best friend and avid reader herself, and I were constantly exchanging books mid week. These were times of countless Noddys and Enid Blytons and Hardy Boys and Nancy Drews. I remember standing in queue at the chubby, fair librarian’s desk, so she could note down in her register the name and number of the book that each of us was issuing. I also remember wondering in later years if the stuff we read had any bearing on what was picked for us as awards at the end of the year. You see awards in Apeejay (for securing a rank in class is the only one I can speak of) were almost always books. So when I got one of the Classics, I wondered if they were tracking what I was reading, and trying to nudge me towards more serious stuff, or when I got a book of Mensa puzzles, that they were encouraging what they thought was a good habit. The only Classics I ever read, I’m ashamed to confess were the translated works of Charles Dickens (I loved ‘A Tale of Two Cities’), Shakespeare, Thomas Hardy, Jane Austen… There must have been many more but these are all I can remember offhand.
Anyway, even exchanging books with Ritu was often not enough. That’s where the neighbourhood lending library came in handy. I don’t know if these libraries still exist, but they did when I was a kid, and boy, am I thankful that they did! The libraries I visited stored popular fiction. So I got introduced to the Perry Masons (Erle Stanley Gardner actually), PG Wodehouses, Agatha Christies, Edgar Allen Poes, Sidney Sheldons, Alistair Macleans, Jeffery Archers, Arthur Haileys and Robin Cooks. There was a whole phase of court room dramas and crime thrillers.
Comics were a whole different world. I used to devour Archies. I looked longingly at all the Tintins that a friend of mine owned, but they weren’t available in the local library. It didn’t seem to make sense to waste a whole week of reading on a Tintin so I never issued one from the school library, and I’m sad to say remain a stranger to it till date. I did read some Asterix, but didn’t take to it then. I was the Indian comics fan- Chacha Chaudhary, and innumerable other Pran comics; not so much the intelligent stuff like Target for me, though of course I did read those as well. There was something called Tinkle, but I only have a hazy memory of it. Then there were the Children's Book Trust publications that my parents subscribed to for me- I forget what it was called, but there used to be a monthly magazine that I would read cover to cover. Another favourite was Chandamama, which was not a comic of course, more an illustrated short story collection. And oh, the ever fantastic Amar Chitra Kathas! That was an ocean of knowledge.
The 80s (if I remember correctly) was a time of much Indo-USSR cultural exchange. One of those years was the festival of the USSR in India. That was an exciting year. There were wonderful fairs to go to, where Russian dancers with red cheeks would be jumping around in their colourful costumes. There was the Russian circus, which was just the most fantastic thing I’d ever seen. And there was the Russian book fair! This was introduction to the many Ukrainian folk tales, and to Ivan the Terrible. Oh, what joy!
I wonder where I got it from- perhaps both my parents are a little to blame! My father is an avid reader of newspapers and magazines, with the occasional fiction thrown in. My mother on the other hand, didn’t read much. But when she did it was those Hindi paperback novels- the Surendra Mohan Pathak types (that’s the only name I remember.) I tried reading one once- it was seriously freaky! I was amazed at the crazy imagination of the guy.
The move to Sardar Patel Vidyalaya also coincided with a slowing down in the reading. I don’t know why. Maybe I was dazzled with the whole new world that was SPV. It certainly was a bit of a culture shock. Which is seriously sad because in SPV we had more than one library card, if I remember correctly! ☺ I don’t have many memories of the library at SPV, not as many as those of the Apeejay library or the local libraries anyway. This was also a time of deep regret at not having taken up Hindi as a subject. SPV had a brilliant Hindi teacher in Kamal Satyarthi, and I longed to attend his classes. Especially when I heard the beautiful words recited by Sujai and Chetan in the corridor one day- they had memorized Harivansh Rai Bachchan’s ‘Jo beet gayee…’ and were trying to outdo each other! That scene is etched in my memory like it happened yesterday. I tried picking up some Hindi literary fiction around this time, but I was even slower at that, so gave up. Sujai, that absolute sweetheart, is also responsible for introducing me to Calvin and Hobbes, of which I am now a diehard fan.
College doesn’t even deserve a mention. There was little time to read, and given my speed, I was no longer joyfully discovering new authors. I have of course read the one or two odd Ayn Rand, Amitav Ghosh, Rohington Mistry, Salman Rushdie, Marquez, Milan Kundera, JRR Tolkein, Roald Dahl, Haruki Murakami, Manto, Ismat Chugtai (God, I’m really mixing them up!) et al and flirted with Vikram Seth, Kiran Desai, Naipaul, Calvino, Ben Okri, Paul Auster, James Joyce, Kafka, Foucault and many others, without actually managing to finish anything by them. I have also lately been drawn to non fiction, such as the writings of Gandhi, Arundhati Roy, Pavan Verma, Naomi Klein, Malcolm Gladwell and Ramchandra Guha among others. (These are all off the top of my head, it’s hardly the full list. At any rate its easy to see how meager it is.) But the problem now is that I’m awfully slow-anything I start takes so long to finish, I forget where it started!
My attention span has actually reduced over the years… is this something to do with the times we live in? If that is so, and it’s a reasonable assumption, then I’m very glad to have lived through the transition phase, having experienced enough of the old, pre liberalization (for I guess that’s where things really started to change) era of the black and white TVs and limited distractions to actually appreciate that way of life, and not too late for the new Internet age, though I still feel like quite the relic as compared to my younger geeky cousins. I belong to the generation that actually played in the streets, not on PS and XBox consoles and under coaches in Sports Clubs. And read real books, not files on Kindle.
Short attention span notwithstanding, I do still read obsessively. I have to read the newspaper in the morning, otherwise I’m grouchy. If you try making conversation with me while I’m reading the newspaper, I’m still grouchy. I still open up old books just to smell the pages. I happily lap up interesting stuff posted by friends online, mostly on fb and some on their blogs, which I subscribe to. I lose my way often with StumbleUpon. On shoots, you can find me reading articles on my phone (thank God for technology.) Heck, I’ll even read labels on bottles, and medical charts while waiting for the doctor in the waiting room. (And that really is not saying very much for the reading I do these days!!)
I don’t know how and when I lost the habit of reading. And it makes me really sad that I did. I hate it! I remember a time as a teenager, when I was ordered to go to bed because it was way past bedtime, but I was at this crucial point in the story, so I finished the book under the rajai in torchlight. (Yes, I know a lot of you have done that as well.) I just wish I knew how to be that way again.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Once while on Google chat
You wrote don't
I read can't
and that made all the difference
Fortunately I happened to glance back
even though I didn't correct myself while you were still around
I read can't
and that made all the difference
Fortunately I happened to glance back
even though I didn't correct myself while you were still around
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
'I Am'- thoughts and learnings...
In my five-year career as cinematographer, I’ve worked on several different kinds of films- shorts, corporate films, music vides, documentaries, ads... I’ve even assisted on one and a quarter feature films. Of all these, some of the most satisfying experiences have been documentaries, and none more so than the film I saw a few days back, the documentary ‘I am’.
In the filmmaker’s own words, ‘I Am chronicles the journey of an Indian lesbian filmmaker who returns to Delhi, eleven years later, to re-open what was once home, and finally confronts the loss of her mother whom she never came out to. As she meets and speaks to parents of other gay and lesbian Indians, she pieces together the fabric of what family truly means, in a landscape where being gay was until recently a criminal and punishable offense.’
The film flows seamlessly through the several ‘coming out’ stories interspersed with Sonali’s own, of coming home, of the regret of not having come out to her mother when she had the chance, the wonder at what her mother’s reaction may have been, and the closure she must reach, further interspersed with a look at the largely homophobic society we live in, the telltale everyday signs in advertising and communication that reiterate heterosexuality as the only normal, the struggle by queers to reclaim their space and freedom, both individual within the family set up and collective in the society at large, and the discovery of a ‘cure’, that most bizarre of ideas propagated by some ‘sex clinics’, all set against the backdrop of the historic judgment, the repeal of article 377, decriminalizing homosexuality in India. Hats off to Sonali and to Anupama (the editor) to have made sense of the enormous amount of footage they had to deal with, and to have come up with this sensitive, moving and layered film.
When I started work on this film, I did not understand the importance of a ‘coming out’. Heck, I didn’t even know such a thing existed. My first introduction to it was through the brief that Sonali gave me over the phone. I have homosexual friends of course- a few, not too many. But we never broached the topic of what it may mean to them to be so. I suppose my friends are urban, aware people who, difficult as it may have been at first, are now comfortable with themselves and their sexuality, so that it no longer shows up in their behaviour or our conversations as something that they may once have struggled with. I had some idea of how it might strain relationships with family members through conversations with one friend, who sometimes spoke of spats he had with his mother over her desire to see him married, in spite of his orientation. But this small window was pretty much all I had.
Shooting this film was revelatory. I was brought face to face with the all consuming confusion, agony and struggle that so many of the people we met had to go through, as they spoke of the process of accepting themselves as being different, and understanding why it was so, in an atmosphere where sources of reliable and unbiased information were few and talk of sex and sexuality was taboo, let alone alternate sexuality.
There are apparently, several stages to coming out. The first is to oneself, perhaps the most important one. The second one is to family, possibly the most difficult one. And the third is to the world, which in turn may happen in steps. It is these coming out stories and the relationships with their family in their aftermath that formed the essential core of the film.
But families are units that live in societies, according to rules set by them. I should know, I have been fighting a slightly different, ongoing battle being the black sheep in the family in choosing a wildly different profession from what everyone was used to, and being single while well into my thirties. My family has been wonderfully supportive, much to my surprise. Even though I realize that they agonise over it every single day, and are occasionally embarrassed by questions raised by friends and extended family. So it was not difficult to see how much more insanely difficult it would be for Indian families to accept a loved one as being anything other than ‘normal’ in their sexual preference, at least for those from an earlier generation.
During the course of shooting the film, we spoke to many people, and their families. Everyone had stories to tell. Some of them were stories of love and acceptance, some of struggle, some of pain, many of confusion and of living in fear and stealth until that moment of liberation, and some of defiance. Of course there were some cases where the families hadn’t accepted their children as they were, and therefore getting to shoot with them was out of question.
It reminded me all over again of what a comfortable life I’d led. I remember writing about my maid back in 2007. Of how she was a mother at an age when my primary concerns were the length of my school skirt or my marks in Maths. It seemed bizarre to even imagine that someone else might have been dealing with pregnancy at the same age. Or feelings of extreme confusion and guilt because she didn’t have a crush on a boy like the rest of her friends.
Most of the people we shot with came from privileged backgrounds. That’s why they could be out there, in the open about their sexuality. These are people for whom it has been relatively easy (though only relatively) to fight society’s prejudices. These are people who are aware and informed, and are able to form themselves in groups and fight for their rights, who are able to publicly party with others of their own kind (no mean feat this, up until a couple of years back when it was decriminalised; before that being gay/ lesbian was actually illegal, and led to much oppression and harassment,) and who are able to navigate the spaces one needs to everyday whether at work or while socializing, with confidence, without letting stares and attitudes affect them adversely.
I got reminded also of an irritation that I sometimes felt towards my dear friend and batchmate in all those years of film school. I had wondered then why he insisted on wearing his sexuality on his sleeve. Why he was always as vocal as he was. The same questions arose as I shot the film. As day after day passed, I wondered why it had to be such an important part of their being, this matter of sexuality. I found the answer soon enough, a two way answer too. As it turned out, when you’re different from the crowd you’re reminded of it, overtly and covertly, by any and all, all the time. You may think that sexuality is a personal matter, but once you’re in the open, a self confessed digresser, our society does not let it remain so. These people seemed to have no choice but to fight prejudices, sometimes on an everyday basis. How then could it possibly not be an essential part of their being, a defining feature, when every single day, day after day they are being judged for it, in places and ways that ought to have nothing to do with it.
The other reason was more altruistic so to say, and I heard it voiced over and over again, by many. And that was to reach out to others like them, all those thousands, maybe millions, who are shackled by the mistaken sense of ethics coded into their consciousness, who may be beating themselves down with sense of guilt and despair, unable to deal with feelings that they’ve been told are not only abnormal, but also sinful, all those without the benefit of a concerned and informed person to confide in and be guided by. Many of them have been in a similar situation, and therefore understand the necessity to speak out, so that others may find the guidance they seek, and the courage to come out themselves.
As we shot the film, travelling from one location to another, and one city to another, I had a lot of questions for Sonali. If she was amused by my curiosity, she never once showed it, always answering in the same controlled voice that I have come to associate with her. Even when talking about her mother, her voice never faltered. It had a tinge of sadness, I often thought to myself, and a restraint that never seemed to come loose. The voice in the film and the trailer is hers, and if you listen closely, you will perhaps understand what I mean.
While shooting films, one often ends up forming friendships, especially between key crewmembers. Not so with Sonali. There was a distance she always maintained, a formal disposition that was not easy to break through. She was polite and fair and funny. She talked a lot, laughed and cracked jokes. She was almost never perturbed by anything. The most excitable that I saw her would have to be at the Pride March in Delhi. But there was something about her that still seemed distant.
Her story, only a part of which one sees in the film, was for me the seed around which the film developed and the key to understanding her motives. To say that it is an intensely personal film would yet not do justice.
You can see the trailer here and I do hope you get to see this lovely film in full sometime.
In the filmmaker’s own words, ‘I Am chronicles the journey of an Indian lesbian filmmaker who returns to Delhi, eleven years later, to re-open what was once home, and finally confronts the loss of her mother whom she never came out to. As she meets and speaks to parents of other gay and lesbian Indians, she pieces together the fabric of what family truly means, in a landscape where being gay was until recently a criminal and punishable offense.’
The film flows seamlessly through the several ‘coming out’ stories interspersed with Sonali’s own, of coming home, of the regret of not having come out to her mother when she had the chance, the wonder at what her mother’s reaction may have been, and the closure she must reach, further interspersed with a look at the largely homophobic society we live in, the telltale everyday signs in advertising and communication that reiterate heterosexuality as the only normal, the struggle by queers to reclaim their space and freedom, both individual within the family set up and collective in the society at large, and the discovery of a ‘cure’, that most bizarre of ideas propagated by some ‘sex clinics’, all set against the backdrop of the historic judgment, the repeal of article 377, decriminalizing homosexuality in India. Hats off to Sonali and to Anupama (the editor) to have made sense of the enormous amount of footage they had to deal with, and to have come up with this sensitive, moving and layered film.
When I started work on this film, I did not understand the importance of a ‘coming out’. Heck, I didn’t even know such a thing existed. My first introduction to it was through the brief that Sonali gave me over the phone. I have homosexual friends of course- a few, not too many. But we never broached the topic of what it may mean to them to be so. I suppose my friends are urban, aware people who, difficult as it may have been at first, are now comfortable with themselves and their sexuality, so that it no longer shows up in their behaviour or our conversations as something that they may once have struggled with. I had some idea of how it might strain relationships with family members through conversations with one friend, who sometimes spoke of spats he had with his mother over her desire to see him married, in spite of his orientation. But this small window was pretty much all I had.
Shooting this film was revelatory. I was brought face to face with the all consuming confusion, agony and struggle that so many of the people we met had to go through, as they spoke of the process of accepting themselves as being different, and understanding why it was so, in an atmosphere where sources of reliable and unbiased information were few and talk of sex and sexuality was taboo, let alone alternate sexuality.
There are apparently, several stages to coming out. The first is to oneself, perhaps the most important one. The second one is to family, possibly the most difficult one. And the third is to the world, which in turn may happen in steps. It is these coming out stories and the relationships with their family in their aftermath that formed the essential core of the film.
But families are units that live in societies, according to rules set by them. I should know, I have been fighting a slightly different, ongoing battle being the black sheep in the family in choosing a wildly different profession from what everyone was used to, and being single while well into my thirties. My family has been wonderfully supportive, much to my surprise. Even though I realize that they agonise over it every single day, and are occasionally embarrassed by questions raised by friends and extended family. So it was not difficult to see how much more insanely difficult it would be for Indian families to accept a loved one as being anything other than ‘normal’ in their sexual preference, at least for those from an earlier generation.
During the course of shooting the film, we spoke to many people, and their families. Everyone had stories to tell. Some of them were stories of love and acceptance, some of struggle, some of pain, many of confusion and of living in fear and stealth until that moment of liberation, and some of defiance. Of course there were some cases where the families hadn’t accepted their children as they were, and therefore getting to shoot with them was out of question.
It reminded me all over again of what a comfortable life I’d led. I remember writing about my maid back in 2007. Of how she was a mother at an age when my primary concerns were the length of my school skirt or my marks in Maths. It seemed bizarre to even imagine that someone else might have been dealing with pregnancy at the same age. Or feelings of extreme confusion and guilt because she didn’t have a crush on a boy like the rest of her friends.
Most of the people we shot with came from privileged backgrounds. That’s why they could be out there, in the open about their sexuality. These are people for whom it has been relatively easy (though only relatively) to fight society’s prejudices. These are people who are aware and informed, and are able to form themselves in groups and fight for their rights, who are able to publicly party with others of their own kind (no mean feat this, up until a couple of years back when it was decriminalised; before that being gay/ lesbian was actually illegal, and led to much oppression and harassment,) and who are able to navigate the spaces one needs to everyday whether at work or while socializing, with confidence, without letting stares and attitudes affect them adversely.
I got reminded also of an irritation that I sometimes felt towards my dear friend and batchmate in all those years of film school. I had wondered then why he insisted on wearing his sexuality on his sleeve. Why he was always as vocal as he was. The same questions arose as I shot the film. As day after day passed, I wondered why it had to be such an important part of their being, this matter of sexuality. I found the answer soon enough, a two way answer too. As it turned out, when you’re different from the crowd you’re reminded of it, overtly and covertly, by any and all, all the time. You may think that sexuality is a personal matter, but once you’re in the open, a self confessed digresser, our society does not let it remain so. These people seemed to have no choice but to fight prejudices, sometimes on an everyday basis. How then could it possibly not be an essential part of their being, a defining feature, when every single day, day after day they are being judged for it, in places and ways that ought to have nothing to do with it.
The other reason was more altruistic so to say, and I heard it voiced over and over again, by many. And that was to reach out to others like them, all those thousands, maybe millions, who are shackled by the mistaken sense of ethics coded into their consciousness, who may be beating themselves down with sense of guilt and despair, unable to deal with feelings that they’ve been told are not only abnormal, but also sinful, all those without the benefit of a concerned and informed person to confide in and be guided by. Many of them have been in a similar situation, and therefore understand the necessity to speak out, so that others may find the guidance they seek, and the courage to come out themselves.
As we shot the film, travelling from one location to another, and one city to another, I had a lot of questions for Sonali. If she was amused by my curiosity, she never once showed it, always answering in the same controlled voice that I have come to associate with her. Even when talking about her mother, her voice never faltered. It had a tinge of sadness, I often thought to myself, and a restraint that never seemed to come loose. The voice in the film and the trailer is hers, and if you listen closely, you will perhaps understand what I mean.
While shooting films, one often ends up forming friendships, especially between key crewmembers. Not so with Sonali. There was a distance she always maintained, a formal disposition that was not easy to break through. She was polite and fair and funny. She talked a lot, laughed and cracked jokes. She was almost never perturbed by anything. The most excitable that I saw her would have to be at the Pride March in Delhi. But there was something about her that still seemed distant.
Her story, only a part of which one sees in the film, was for me the seed around which the film developed and the key to understanding her motives. To say that it is an intensely personal film would yet not do justice.
You can see the trailer here and I do hope you get to see this lovely film in full sometime.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Of God men and their wise ways
This article made me wonder if it would not have been a more dignified passing on if the Sai Baba had been in his ashram or wherever he used to stay. Among his devotees. Being a man of God, surely he knew when his time was up?
With apologies to all followers, I mean no disrespect.
With apologies to all followers, I mean no disrespect.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Feeling (mis)informed
So a few days back I came across this TED talk
A case against people’s apathy and blaming instead, ‘obstacles and barriers’ that are placed in our way of meaningfully engaging with our surroundings, even on issues that directly affect us. Nothing new in that, though I have to say the talk was for me interesting and informative anyway.
What I’d like to add to this list is designed and deliberate information overload. We’re living in times of an information revolution. Information is being generated and transmitted at an unprecedented pace, and is more readily and cheaply available than ever before. Especially over the Internet, which has been the vehicle of this revolution.
Here’s a video that brings some perspective to the numbers.
The most telling statistics for me (quoted from the video) are ‘It is estimated that a week’s worth of the New York Times contains more information than a person was likely to come across in a lifetime in the 18th century.’ and ‘It is estimated that 4 exabytes (4x10^19) of unique information will be generated this year. That is more than the previous 5000 years.’
The problem is that there often is too much of it, and as we well know, too much of a good thing may not necessarily be good. Even if one wants to follow an issue, the amount of information that one is bombarded with is, I suspect, designed to dissuade all except the most persistent followers. That ails much of my effort at staying informed anyway. Two recent cases in point are the debates around nuclear energy and the Jan Lokpal Bill.
For this post, I’m going to limit myself to Nuclear energy.
I’m really rather fed up of the number of conflicting articles in the media around the nuclear energy debate. And I, with my limited knowledge and interest, have probably only some across the tip of the iceberg.
Ever since the tragic tsunami struck in Japan, the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear plant crisis has been constantly in the news. Even in the early days, when the government of Japan and TEPCO claimed the amount of radiation was below levels considered dangerous, the alternative media was full of articles advising Japanese in the vicinity of the plant to move immediately. Reports on the harmful effects of radiation from the Chernobyl disaster were quoted and claims about internal and external radiation and what constitutes ‘dangerous’ were made. There were repercussions across the world, in that nations, including India, began to re evaluate the safety measures in their existing nuclear plants, while Germany closed them down altogether. And the debate around nuclear as a viable source of energy was revived. Mostly good developments these, had there been some kind of clarity.
The proponents of nuclear energy likely have deep pockets. It would be easy to believe, and much of the alternative media claims, that they manipulate data, and put out false information to support their case. Nothing new in this either; misinformation campaigns have long been a handy tool of people in power, or with something to hide.
But when someone like George Monbiot joins the debate, and in the favour of Nuclear, I really begin to wonder. His arguments are compelling, even if the figures he quotes seem less than plausible. What is even more baffling is that he quotes the same reports to build a case for Nuclear. How IS that possible, I ask. All these learned people, experts in their fields (though Monbiot does not claim to be an expert on Nuclear, and quotes sources,) if they can’t reach a consensus, in spite of their pro people credentials, how are the rest of us supposed to make ‘informed’ decisions.
Here are just a few from the ping pong match (can’t find some others):
‘How the Fukushima disaster taught me to stop worrying and embrace nuclear power’: In which Monbiot takes a pro nuclear stance
‘Why don’t we judge other forms of energy generation by the standards we apply to nuclear power?’: In which he defends his pro nuclear stance
‘The UN Would Never Lie to George Monbiot’: an attack on Monbiot's pro Nuclear stance
‘How Nuclear Apologists Mislead The World Over Radiation’: Helen Caldicott’s attack on Monbiot
‘We have to be sure our facts about nuclear power are right, as the latest exchange with Helen Caldicott shows’: Monbiot responds
This then seems to be the strategy. Put out so much information, that it becomes practically impossible for anyone to be able to make sense of it all without losing his or her job (where’s the time for a real job with all that reading to do) and mind in the process. The other half of this strategy is to constantly keep people engaged in the business of making a living and to simultaneously keep them hungry for a better life by bombarding them with images of bigger cars, bigger houses, bigger bathtubs, expensive shoes, holidays abroad… the list is endless, or engaged in mindless entertainment (both the gaming and porn industries are big business, and TV and films are only producing formula trash.)
This country is even easier. Most of the population can barely afford two square meals a day. They can hardly be expected to know or care for global warming or the crisis in Egypt, or hell, even stuff closer to home, farmer suicides in Vidarbha or State oppression of tribals in Chhatisgarh. Forget about complex issues like Kashmir! The middle class has been suitably engaged in dreams of a better future, fueled by advertising. If that doesn’t engage them enough, the intense cutthroat competition at the workplace will. And when they come home from all that toil, bombard them with mindless entertainment. Saas bahu serials with more images of impeccably dressed and made up women and docile men, complete this fantasy picture.
The surrender of the middle class is complete.
As for the rich, they’re too busy making their millions, and spending them on flashy cars, designer wear and penthouse apartments, that the aforementioned middle class is dreaming of.
It seems almost a miracle then that we still have a few who do manage to take out time and engage with the world and its crises at all.
And for them, there’s information overload.
That brings me to the Indian context of the Nuclear debate. Most notably the Jaitapur plant. I have read literature circulated by anti Nuclear activists protesting against the plant. Of course I have no way (or maybe not the time or inclination) to actually research their sources and substantiate their claims. However I am inclined to support them. In a country like ours, where everything including morals is for sale, and human life is cheap, it is not hard to believe that dubious technologies are being pushed for kickbacks. Even more likely that corners will be cut in the actual construction and provision of safety/ emergency measures. Even if Nuclear energy had been proven to be completely safe, I would say we would need to be on our guard. In the current scenario, supporting this plant would be nothing short of madness. And if those reasons weren’t compelling enough, there’s the question of secrecy. For a more detailed view, read this.
Another thing that took me by surprise was the Greenpeace India response. They were always opposed to Jaitapur plant of course, but after the tsunami, they changed their stand to being opposed to it because Jaitapur lies in a seismically active zone. Much of the media discourse had of course already shifted to the dangers due to natural calamities and preventive safety measures.
Huh? So does that mean this plant, with the same capacity and employing the same French technology, would be ok if relocated somewhere else? That’s not what I would deduce from the claims made by the anti Nuclear activists. This development made me wonder if the movement was really a larger anti Nuclear one, or was it just concerned with the crisis at hand.
It also made me wonder whether we are ever really ‘informed’ or just humoured into thinking we are.
A case against people’s apathy and blaming instead, ‘obstacles and barriers’ that are placed in our way of meaningfully engaging with our surroundings, even on issues that directly affect us. Nothing new in that, though I have to say the talk was for me interesting and informative anyway.
What I’d like to add to this list is designed and deliberate information overload. We’re living in times of an information revolution. Information is being generated and transmitted at an unprecedented pace, and is more readily and cheaply available than ever before. Especially over the Internet, which has been the vehicle of this revolution.
Here’s a video that brings some perspective to the numbers.
The most telling statistics for me (quoted from the video) are ‘It is estimated that a week’s worth of the New York Times contains more information than a person was likely to come across in a lifetime in the 18th century.’ and ‘It is estimated that 4 exabytes (4x10^19) of unique information will be generated this year. That is more than the previous 5000 years.’
The problem is that there often is too much of it, and as we well know, too much of a good thing may not necessarily be good. Even if one wants to follow an issue, the amount of information that one is bombarded with is, I suspect, designed to dissuade all except the most persistent followers. That ails much of my effort at staying informed anyway. Two recent cases in point are the debates around nuclear energy and the Jan Lokpal Bill.
For this post, I’m going to limit myself to Nuclear energy.
I’m really rather fed up of the number of conflicting articles in the media around the nuclear energy debate. And I, with my limited knowledge and interest, have probably only some across the tip of the iceberg.
Ever since the tragic tsunami struck in Japan, the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear plant crisis has been constantly in the news. Even in the early days, when the government of Japan and TEPCO claimed the amount of radiation was below levels considered dangerous, the alternative media was full of articles advising Japanese in the vicinity of the plant to move immediately. Reports on the harmful effects of radiation from the Chernobyl disaster were quoted and claims about internal and external radiation and what constitutes ‘dangerous’ were made. There were repercussions across the world, in that nations, including India, began to re evaluate the safety measures in their existing nuclear plants, while Germany closed them down altogether. And the debate around nuclear as a viable source of energy was revived. Mostly good developments these, had there been some kind of clarity.
The proponents of nuclear energy likely have deep pockets. It would be easy to believe, and much of the alternative media claims, that they manipulate data, and put out false information to support their case. Nothing new in this either; misinformation campaigns have long been a handy tool of people in power, or with something to hide.
But when someone like George Monbiot joins the debate, and in the favour of Nuclear, I really begin to wonder. His arguments are compelling, even if the figures he quotes seem less than plausible. What is even more baffling is that he quotes the same reports to build a case for Nuclear. How IS that possible, I ask. All these learned people, experts in their fields (though Monbiot does not claim to be an expert on Nuclear, and quotes sources,) if they can’t reach a consensus, in spite of their pro people credentials, how are the rest of us supposed to make ‘informed’ decisions.
Here are just a few from the ping pong match (can’t find some others):
‘How the Fukushima disaster taught me to stop worrying and embrace nuclear power’: In which Monbiot takes a pro nuclear stance
‘Why don’t we judge other forms of energy generation by the standards we apply to nuclear power?’: In which he defends his pro nuclear stance
‘The UN Would Never Lie to George Monbiot’: an attack on Monbiot's pro Nuclear stance
‘How Nuclear Apologists Mislead The World Over Radiation’: Helen Caldicott’s attack on Monbiot
‘We have to be sure our facts about nuclear power are right, as the latest exchange with Helen Caldicott shows’: Monbiot responds
This then seems to be the strategy. Put out so much information, that it becomes practically impossible for anyone to be able to make sense of it all without losing his or her job (where’s the time for a real job with all that reading to do) and mind in the process. The other half of this strategy is to constantly keep people engaged in the business of making a living and to simultaneously keep them hungry for a better life by bombarding them with images of bigger cars, bigger houses, bigger bathtubs, expensive shoes, holidays abroad… the list is endless, or engaged in mindless entertainment (both the gaming and porn industries are big business, and TV and films are only producing formula trash.)
This country is even easier. Most of the population can barely afford two square meals a day. They can hardly be expected to know or care for global warming or the crisis in Egypt, or hell, even stuff closer to home, farmer suicides in Vidarbha or State oppression of tribals in Chhatisgarh. Forget about complex issues like Kashmir! The middle class has been suitably engaged in dreams of a better future, fueled by advertising. If that doesn’t engage them enough, the intense cutthroat competition at the workplace will. And when they come home from all that toil, bombard them with mindless entertainment. Saas bahu serials with more images of impeccably dressed and made up women and docile men, complete this fantasy picture.
The surrender of the middle class is complete.
As for the rich, they’re too busy making their millions, and spending them on flashy cars, designer wear and penthouse apartments, that the aforementioned middle class is dreaming of.
It seems almost a miracle then that we still have a few who do manage to take out time and engage with the world and its crises at all.
And for them, there’s information overload.
That brings me to the Indian context of the Nuclear debate. Most notably the Jaitapur plant. I have read literature circulated by anti Nuclear activists protesting against the plant. Of course I have no way (or maybe not the time or inclination) to actually research their sources and substantiate their claims. However I am inclined to support them. In a country like ours, where everything including morals is for sale, and human life is cheap, it is not hard to believe that dubious technologies are being pushed for kickbacks. Even more likely that corners will be cut in the actual construction and provision of safety/ emergency measures. Even if Nuclear energy had been proven to be completely safe, I would say we would need to be on our guard. In the current scenario, supporting this plant would be nothing short of madness. And if those reasons weren’t compelling enough, there’s the question of secrecy. For a more detailed view, read this.
Another thing that took me by surprise was the Greenpeace India response. They were always opposed to Jaitapur plant of course, but after the tsunami, they changed their stand to being opposed to it because Jaitapur lies in a seismically active zone. Much of the media discourse had of course already shifted to the dangers due to natural calamities and preventive safety measures.
Huh? So does that mean this plant, with the same capacity and employing the same French technology, would be ok if relocated somewhere else? That’s not what I would deduce from the claims made by the anti Nuclear activists. This development made me wonder if the movement was really a larger anti Nuclear one, or was it just concerned with the crisis at hand.
It also made me wonder whether we are ever really ‘informed’ or just humoured into thinking we are.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Ayodhya and Beyond: My two bits
I don’t get it. Clearly a lot of people around me are not happy with the Ayodhya judgment… and I’m trying hard to understand why, but there seem to be few clues as of now.
Many of the reactions coming in seem to suggest that something of an injustice has been done to the minority Muslims, while those miscreants who brought down the Masjid in 92 have been allowed to go scot-free. I don’t get it though… was this trial about punishing the miscreants or about the land? And if it was about the land and who it rightfully belongs to, what pray is wrong with the judgment?
Apparently the ASI has clearly stated that they found remains of a massive Hindu religious structure below the Masjid. Whatever this structure may have been, does it really matter as long as it existed and was holy to the Hindus? Would it somehow become more acceptable to the so called secular junta if it was something more believable than Ram janambhoomi or Sita ki rasoi? After all what about Indian mythology is believable? The setu floating across the ocean? Or the vanar sena? Or arrows spewing fire? Yet the Ramayana is one of Hinduism’s holiest texts. Isn’t ridiculing the idea of Ram janambhoomi a bit like standing in judgment? Isn’t it enough that the place was, for whatever reasons, holy for a particular community?
What does amaze me however is the language of the court judgment. They actually seem to mention it as the birthplace of Ram. What I’d like to know is, which piece of evidence proves this conclusively?
Then again, there is no denying that the Muslim community was wronged in 92. The same trial could have gone on and the same verdict reached without the demolition of the dome of the Masjid. That was an unnecessary act of aggression and most reprehensible. And most certainly everyone involved in it, including the politicians who fanned the mob fury should be brought to book. However that is a separate matter altogether and therefore a separate trial.
That bring us to the Nirmohi akhara. Now that I am bowled over by. I read several articles on several sites trying to figure out what this mysterious akhara is. Sadly everyone is more concerned about the Mandir- Masjid argument.
Oh well! Turn the monument into a national monument, I say. Let it not be functioning mandir or masjid… God knows there are plenty of those around in this country! Turn it into a museum with a detailed history explained in multimedia installations. Let the next generation learn from the past and take away a message of religious tolerance.
Many of the reactions coming in seem to suggest that something of an injustice has been done to the minority Muslims, while those miscreants who brought down the Masjid in 92 have been allowed to go scot-free. I don’t get it though… was this trial about punishing the miscreants or about the land? And if it was about the land and who it rightfully belongs to, what pray is wrong with the judgment?
Apparently the ASI has clearly stated that they found remains of a massive Hindu religious structure below the Masjid. Whatever this structure may have been, does it really matter as long as it existed and was holy to the Hindus? Would it somehow become more acceptable to the so called secular junta if it was something more believable than Ram janambhoomi or Sita ki rasoi? After all what about Indian mythology is believable? The setu floating across the ocean? Or the vanar sena? Or arrows spewing fire? Yet the Ramayana is one of Hinduism’s holiest texts. Isn’t ridiculing the idea of Ram janambhoomi a bit like standing in judgment? Isn’t it enough that the place was, for whatever reasons, holy for a particular community?
What does amaze me however is the language of the court judgment. They actually seem to mention it as the birthplace of Ram. What I’d like to know is, which piece of evidence proves this conclusively?
Then again, there is no denying that the Muslim community was wronged in 92. The same trial could have gone on and the same verdict reached without the demolition of the dome of the Masjid. That was an unnecessary act of aggression and most reprehensible. And most certainly everyone involved in it, including the politicians who fanned the mob fury should be brought to book. However that is a separate matter altogether and therefore a separate trial.
That bring us to the Nirmohi akhara. Now that I am bowled over by. I read several articles on several sites trying to figure out what this mysterious akhara is. Sadly everyone is more concerned about the Mandir- Masjid argument.
Oh well! Turn the monument into a national monument, I say. Let it not be functioning mandir or masjid… God knows there are plenty of those around in this country! Turn it into a museum with a detailed history explained in multimedia installations. Let the next generation learn from the past and take away a message of religious tolerance.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
What is our country coming to?
No seriously, what’s going on???
Large parts of central India are affected by what our Prime Minister has described as Number One Security Threat. While the alternative media cries itself hoarse over the one sided view of Naxalism being painted by the government and the popular media, the tribals, and indeed the common man in Naxalite affected districts, continues to suffer at the hands of both the insurgents and the government troops.
Read the following for some insights… and there are probably thousands more out there…
Arundhati Roy’s article in Outlook
Priyanka Borpujari’s blog (a freelance journalist)
Javed Iqbal’s blog (a photojournalist with the New Indian Express)
I love this take on the rise of the Maoist movement by The Great Indian Clearance Sale
The North East continues to be marginalized.
And now Kashmir is on the boil again. Its been ravaged in the last couple of months by protests against the killings of innocent youths by India’s Security forces, leading to more action by the security forces, and more killings! And now the clampdown on the media… Is this a democracy we are living in?
Following are a few links, some of the many articles floating around…
Rekha Chaudhary’s emotional piece on Rising Kashmir
Muzamil Jaleel article on stone throwing as a form of protest
A moving piece by a young Kashmiri journalist
In the meanwhile people in our megacities seem oblivious to the plight of the majority of the country- a middle class with ever rising aspirations, blinded by the consumerism, with unsustainable lifestyles, consuming ever more natural resources at a rate faster than Nature can replenish, sending their cities to the dogs by building more… more houses, more malls, more flyovers… more, more, more even in the face of crumbling infrastructure. What is this ostrich mentality? Its so stupid it’s nearly unbelievable…
Is there hope at all for us as a nation?
Large parts of central India are affected by what our Prime Minister has described as Number One Security Threat. While the alternative media cries itself hoarse over the one sided view of Naxalism being painted by the government and the popular media, the tribals, and indeed the common man in Naxalite affected districts, continues to suffer at the hands of both the insurgents and the government troops.
Read the following for some insights… and there are probably thousands more out there…
Arundhati Roy’s article in Outlook
Priyanka Borpujari’s blog (a freelance journalist)
Javed Iqbal’s blog (a photojournalist with the New Indian Express)
I love this take on the rise of the Maoist movement by The Great Indian Clearance Sale
The North East continues to be marginalized.
And now Kashmir is on the boil again. Its been ravaged in the last couple of months by protests against the killings of innocent youths by India’s Security forces, leading to more action by the security forces, and more killings! And now the clampdown on the media… Is this a democracy we are living in?
Following are a few links, some of the many articles floating around…
Rekha Chaudhary’s emotional piece on Rising Kashmir
Muzamil Jaleel article on stone throwing as a form of protest
A moving piece by a young Kashmiri journalist
In the meanwhile people in our megacities seem oblivious to the plight of the majority of the country- a middle class with ever rising aspirations, blinded by the consumerism, with unsustainable lifestyles, consuming ever more natural resources at a rate faster than Nature can replenish, sending their cities to the dogs by building more… more houses, more malls, more flyovers… more, more, more even in the face of crumbling infrastructure. What is this ostrich mentality? Its so stupid it’s nearly unbelievable…
Is there hope at all for us as a nation?
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