Month: September 2012

Categories
Soft Coroner

Fair people are good, dark people are bad

Situations that look innocuous on the surface reveal uncomfortable complexities. Take Indian mythology, for instance.
By Prashant Shankarnarayan | prashant@themetrognome.in

The situation – Devas vanquishing Asuras

The observation: What does it stand for? Good defeating bad? Godly over the ungodly? Well that’s what has been handed down to us. And it suits us. The triumph of good over bad is always welcome. But the only concern is that when an Indian mind imagines the supposedly good devas winning over the supposedly bad asuras, it imagines a race of handsome, fair-skinned men winning over a race of ugly, dark- skinned men.

I decided to test this hypothesis by asking two questions to people: 1) Who were the Devas and Asuras? 2) How did they look?

This is the standard response I got: 1) Devas were Gods and Asuras were demons

2) Asuras looked ugly and hideous, and the Devas were beautiful and graceful.

Firstly, there is no concept of a demon in Indian mythology, but I will save that topic for a rainy day; however what strikes me is that the respondents parroted the same opinion about these two races that I expected them to give. I won’t be surprised if even you imagined it that way. This is what I call slow poison.

A poison that is injected in us unintentionally and innocuously, when a grandparent narrates a bedtime story to the child stating, “Ek bada bhayanak kala rakshas tha,” ‘Kala’ (black) being the point of contention. And the same idea has been propagated over the years by many such dadis and nanis, magazines, comic books, websites and television serials that are devoured by young and impressionable minds. Although it doesn’t seem like these content creators do it intentionally, they still end up producing stories from Indian mythology where the hero is fair and his opponent, always dark. No one has seen the devas; nor the asuras. So who tagged them as fair and dark? It is an idea so deeply ingrained that despite writing this article, I am unable to imagine a fair-complexioned asura.

Scriptures mention that both devas and asuras were sired by Maharishi Kashyapa. The devas were his progeny borne by his wife Aditi. The Asuras represent two races, the Daityas and the Danavas that Kashyapa begot from Diti and Danu respectively. Incidentally Aditi, Diti and Danu were sisters. As the devas and asuras grew up to be men, both possessed equal power, authority and wealth. Both the races nurtured lofty ambitions to rule all the three worlds – Swarga, Bhoomi and Pathala (Heaven, earth and the netherworld). So why take sides?

Simply because the battle between the devas and asuras was that of Dharma vs Adharma.  In a quintessentially religious way, the devas being believers, by default stood for Dharma and the atheist asuras were branded as enemies of Dharma. Both these races enjoyed the lustful companies of apsaras, were power hungry and easily gave in to basic emotions like jealousy and insecurity, but still the devas stayed afloat as Gods because they ran to Brahma, Vishnu or Shiva at the drop of a hat. But as it should be, if both the races were sired by the same man, borne by women from the same bloodline and if these half brothers displayed similar behavioural tendencies, then for the devas to remain fair and the asuras to be dark, it would have required either a rare gene mutation or just a racist mind’s effortless imagination!

What makes it even more interesting is that we are ready to cut some slack and portray certain asuras as fair skinned, provided they fall under the purview of our morality. The most striking example that supports this aspect is the story of Prahlad. Just check the visual representation of Narasimha Avtar where Vishnu comes to save an asura prince Prahlad from his asura father Hiranyakashapu. Even though both father and son were asuras, the atheist father has been portrayed as dark and the pious, devout son as expected – fair! What does this signify? That an average asura is an atheist, and hence dark and dreadful. But if ever he shows believer tendencies, then his complexion automatically changes to fair.

Likewise, Raavan was half Brahmin and half rakshasa, and so was his brother Vibhishan. But Vibhishan is portrayed fairer than his brother.  Also, when the goddess of courage and protection, Durga, transforms into the aggressive goddess of time and change, Kali, her complexion too changes from fair to dark. While it is perfectly fine to depict Kali as dark and destructive, why can’t we perceive Durga in the same light?

Not to forget possible the most popular god in the Hindu pantheon – Ganesha. Legend says that Shiva fitted an elephant’s head to his son’s body, so it is intriguing to find people worshipping a fair Ganesha. Aren’t elephants dark or at least dark grey?

And then comes the ultimate God, right at the top of the hierarchy. Although the name Krishna itself means dark, often one finds him portrayed in dark blue. He is addressed as ‘Kare Kanha’ (black Kanha) or ‘Shyamvarna’ (black coloured) but yet what we usually see is a blue Kanha! Of course there are theories to back it about him turning blue post his showdown with the poisonous serpent Kalia or because he resides in the deep blue cosmic ocean, but still we prefer sticking more to blue than black.

These are instances of our blatant disapproval of wanting to be associated with dark skin, or the failure to accept that dark people could be just as good as the fair ones. It could also be said that the colour white and black depict good and bad, they help people grasp these concepts instantly. But when we add life to these very colours by representing them in the form of complexion of godly or human beings, the very meaning and essence of the message gets tampered with. It simply becomes a fair person vanquishing a dark one. Indeed its good to be on the side of Dharma but one need not be fair skinned to do so. Our culture is steeped in racism and whether we like it or not but the idea of Devas winning over Asuras is a subtle way of propagating that fair skin is always desirable over dark.

To put it simply – fair people are good, dark people are bad. If we continue to inject this subtle poison then it just keeps reinstating what we have been all the while – Asuras.

Prashant is a mediaperson who is constantly on the lookout for content and auto rickshaws in Mumbai. This column tries to dissect situations that look innocuous at the surface but reveal uncomfortable complexities after a thorough post mortem.

 

 

Categories
Big story

It’s final. Ajit Pawar is out.

Governor accepts deputy CM’s resignation; Pawar’s portfolios handed to Jayant Patil and Rajesh Tope

by The Editors/ editor@themetrognome.in

Five days after Maharashtra deputy chief minister Ajit Pawar resigned from his post, following reports of an alleged irrigation scam in the state. Chief Minister Prithviraj Chauhan accepted the resignation, followed by state governor, His Excellency K Sankaranarayan, at Raj Bhavan today.

As per a release from Raj Bhavan, the Governor also agreed to Chavan’s request that the Finance and Planning (additional charge) portfolio be handed over to Jayant Patil (the current Minister for Rural Development), who had held this portfolio in the Vilasrao Deshmukh government, and that the additional charge of the Department of Energy be given to Rajesh Tope, who is currently the Minister for Higher and Technical Education.

A day prior to this meeting, NCP chief Sharad Pawar had also accepted his nephew Ajit’s resignation, while reiterating that there was “no rift within the Pawar family.” The resignations of other NCP leaders have been rejected thus far.

 

 

 

Categories
Hum log

There’s a comedian in the (hospital) building

Stand up comic PapaCJ is visiting the country’s hospitals and making patients go BWAHAHAHAHA

By The Editors/ editor@themetrognome.in

You’re lying miserably on your hospital bed on a Sunday, your broken leg inside a cast, staring at a flaky ceiling and wishing you could hide in the ward boy’s laundry basket and make your way to freedom. But you can’t, so you must continue staring at the ceiling, wishing you could hide in the ward boy’s laundry basket and make your way to freedom.

It goes on. Hospitals really suck. Even the ward boy’s laundry basket is a foolish contraption that would fall apart if a kitten hid in it. You look down the rows of beds next to you, and you note that each patient is eyeing the laundry basket with distaste.

And then the good doctor tells you that somebody’s going to come along and entertain you soon.

“Sure,” you think. “This means that I’m going to have my blood taken by an intern who will poke about my arm looking for a vein till I have no arm left.” But instead of an intern, in walks a good-looking, long-haired, big-grinning PapaCJ.

And he starts to tell jokes. He doesn’t patronise. He doesn’t joke about people’s suffering. He doesn’t do ‘non-veg’ stuff. Soon you’re grinning. The pain in your leg, about to make its presence felt, pipes down. He does impressions. He tells it like it is, only he makes it ten times funnier. If your leg allowed it, you would be running around the room, laughing hard.

Why he does it

PapaCJ, noted stand up comic and humour writer, thought of presenting his acts in front of a hospital audience “just one day” last month. “I do lots of shows where I make people laugh, because I genuinely love to make people laugh,” he tells us. “I am in the ‘happiness business’, and I truly believe that laughter does heal.”

His bright idea is called The Best Medicine. He explains, “Hospitals are really depressing places. The white tubelights, the smell of medicine, the constant aches and pains and other suffering. I thought, ‘Why not let patients laugh and have fun?’ From a comedian’s point of view, it’s a privilege doing shows like this, where your only payment is in the form of blessings.”

Getting on board

For starters, CJ wrote to the wife of chairperson and managing director of Medicity Dr Naresh Trehan (Padma Shri). “She was very welcoming of the idea, and I had a meeting with Medicity’s HODs to figure out which patients could benefit from the exercise and how to do the entire thing. I am open to showing up and speaking in any hospital in the country, any random medical centre that wants me to do this,” he says. CJ will perform on any Sunday, totally free of cost. “I only want my travel expenses covered. There is no charge for performing,” he says.

A few of his friends from New York, he says, were very excited about the idea and wanted to come down and perform. “But there was no way to take care of their travel expenses. However, I’m speaking to my colleagues here who can also take this up.” He says there was a call for him to perform in a Kashmir hospital as well.

What kind of jokes?

“No material that is offensive or which jokes about what is troubling patients will be allowed,” he says firmly. “It’s about making people feel better about themselves. Laughter has such a big impact on people, it makes a big difference physically and mentally. Patients are regular people, too. They deserve a laugh as much as anyone.”

Help set up a showCJ doesn’t have a publicist or a PR machinery backing him, and not knowing too many people in the hospital industry is a big concern. “I want to spread the word that I am available for doing this. There is a lot of red tape you need to cross if you approach hospitals directly. I am hoping that I get the word across and cover as many hospitals as I can.”

Do you know anyone working at a hospital? Help CJ put up a show by recommending him. CJ can be contacted on papacj@papacj.com

 

Categories
Places

Disused, neglected and forgotten

The Mandapeshwar Caves in Borivli have a rich historical past. But there’s a huge slum right outside it and nobody visits except on Mondays

by The Traveller/ the traveller@themetrognome.in

It’s not every day that you have a protected heritage monument in close proximity to your house. The Mandapeshwar Caves in Borivli are a short walk from my home, and as we are wont to do with valuable things that we have easy access to, I hadn’t given it much thought in all the time I was growing up in the area. In fact, a few of my friends had been to see the caves before me, and they live in south Mumbai.

So last week I decided that I would check what the Caves were like. My friends had said that the ruins were lovely, which didn’t make any sense to me. I have never found ruins lovely. I have never understood the poetry in broken rock. Call me a mundane, limited intellect. If I visit a place, I like to see it clean and whole.

The Caves were certainly clean, but obviously not whole. To give you a brief historical insight into them, they are said to have been built in about 550 AD by Buddhist monks. As per information on Wikipedia, ‘During the occupation of the Kanheri caves (at Sanjay Gandhi National Park), these monks found another location were they created a hall of paintings. The cave was created by the Buddhist monks and then they hired travelling Persians to paint. The Buddhist monks asked the Persians to paint the life of Lord Shiva. This makes this cave interesting as it brings many religions together. Buddhist cave, Persian painters and Hindu God. (sic)’

There are, of course, no paintings there today, but even the briefest of glances will reveal that the Caves bear the stamp of Shiva. There are stone carvings of Shiva in different forms, and not a single placard anywhere to explain the various poses of the statues. In fact, I was left to come up with my own theories about the statues and the placement of inner rooms, since there is no sign board anywhere to explain the Caves’ history.

A funny thing happened when I was there. Armed with a camera, I asked an authoritative-looking man seated on a plastic chair just outside the Shiv temple inside the cave, “Is it okay to take pictures?” He gave my camera a bored glance, then said, “Haan haan, le lo.”

So when I started clicking, I was surprised to see a harassed-looking man run up to me. “Madam, agar photo lena hai toh Sion se permission lena padega,” he said very politely.

“Aap kaun hain?” I said, slightly defiantly.

“Idhar ka chowkidar,” he said, equally defiantly.

The authoritative-looking man had, meanwhile, disappeared.

To sum up, despite a few spots inside the Caves, such as the Shiv Temple, which is cool and quite lovely, I was very disappointed. Not with the ruins the place is in, but because there is no worthwhile restoration and upkeep. “Monday ko hi bahut bheed hoti hai,” the caretaker (his name was Ghani, he said) told me. “Aur raat ko? Poori khuli jagah hai, log aake sote honge,” I remarked, casting an eye on one of the Caves’ two inner sanctums.

“Nahin nahin, raat mein security hoti hai,” Ghani said firmly. I couldn’t believe him, though – even on his watch at 12 noon, three men were fast asleep in an alcove off one side.

Outside, in another telling incident, a barber was shaving a customer seated on a high rock outside the cave. There is a sprawling slum opposite the Caves, one of the largest in this suburb. A little guide book that Ghani showed me failed to mention that the Dahisar river used to run by the Caves, or that the ruins of an old Portuguese Church stand above it. The book also failed to mention that these Caves were one of the four Buddhist caves in the city, the others being Jogeshwari, Elephanta and Mahakali Caves. “Aap Sion se (where the Archaeological Survey of India office is located) permission leke aaiye Madam, main aap ko saare photo lene doonga,” Ghani promised.

There’s no need for permissions. I’m not going back. I can do without being disturbed over gross neglect of history.

Know a good spot in Mumbai with an interesting history? Tell The Traveller about it at thetraveller@themetrognome.in.

 

 

 

Categories
Big story

Did Aseem Trivedi issue threats?

Complainant Hanumant Upre alleges that cartoonist called him on his mobile phone and threatened him to withdraw the complaint made against him

By The Editors/ editor@themetrognome.in

The Aseem Trivedi case refuses to die down. Just days after the jailed cartoonist was released from judicial custody, the complainant in the case that brought the spotlight on the cartoons Aseem had posted on a website last year, Hanumant Upre, has alleged that the former threatened him to withdraw the case.

Hanumant is a social activist who heads the Maharashtra state unit of the Satyashodhak OBC Parishad. He had registered a criminal complaint against Aseem at Beed police station on December 26, 2011, but the cartoonist was arrested only in September this year, following a complaint registered at Bandra Kurla police station. According to a complaint Hanumant filed before Beed’s superintendent of police on September 24, the activist has alleged that Aseem called him on his mobile phone on September 17 and threatened him to withdraw the complaint.

The complaint reads, ‘Shri Trivedi personally spoke to me on my mobile bearing no. 9________ on 17/09/2012 for about 20 minutes during the period between 11.25 am to 11.45 am within few days of his release on bail by the Hon’ble Bombay High Court. Shri Aseem Trivedi initially tried to persuade me to withdraw the complaint; however I refused to do so. Shri Trivedi went on giving threats and exerted pressures to withdraw the complaint lodged against him stating that nothing would turn as a result of the complaint  the Hon’ble High Court of Bombay had already released by giving clean chit. I did not budge or succumb to the pressure exerted by him.’

However, Alok Dixit, Aseem’s friend and fellow campaigner in Trivedi’s NGO Save Your Voice, has said that Aseem has never contacted Hanumant on the number that the latter has provided in his written complaint. A local TV channel, meanwhile, flashed the phone number and Alok said that he had received several threatening calls on that number.

Categories
Hum log

‘I cover issues no one else is willing to touch’

Journalist Javed Iqbal talks about the challenges of covering a ravaged people – and why these issues are not extensively covered by the Indian press

by Vrushali Lad/vrushali@themetrognome.in

Javed Iqbal (28) is a Bandra resident, a freelance journalist, an excellent photographer. He is also one of the few journalists in the country covering issues of displacement, dissension and demolition. He used to work as an investigative journalist with The New Indian Express for two years, before taking the freelance photojournalist route. The Metrognome caught up with him at his exhibition of photographs – ‘Ghar’ – that detailed his considerable body of work, encompassing everything from police encounters in Bastar and Dantewada to slum demolitions in Golibar, Mumbai.

You graduated with a degree in Journalism. What did you do right after your graduation?

I, as a young, arrogant, no-good idiot, walked out of an interview with a tabloid. I didn’t want them, and by the fact that I made fun of the newspapers’ gratuitous coverage of a celebrity, they didn’t want me. And then I started working as a freelance photographer, wrote for a music magazine, a lot of other ‘abort missions’ with newspapers, but my heart always lay with the idea of doing things the old-fashioned way – to just go somewhere and work. But the problem was logistics and funding, and it was only a few years later that I realised that the best way of dealing with logistics and funding is to simply do away with it. I finally went with a pocketful of cash and lint.

How did photojournalism happen?
I used to take photos since I was 16, and I knew photojournalism was just around the corner if one simply put themselves on the front row seats of history. And that’s what I did.

You write extensively on (and photograph) issues affecting PAPs, tribals, those facing demolition of their homes, and the lives of villages in the grip of Naxal forces. That’s a road not many journalists take, since development journalism is still a very niche branch in the Indian media. How did you make this choice?

Firstly, I wouldn’t call it ‘development journalism’ when state-based development usually seems to only follow after state repression and its symptoms, human rights violations. Look at what’s happening in Koodankulam today. Old women and folk are being teargassed because they’re the only ones who’re raising the very serious issue of nuclear safety and while the whole world is shutting down their nuclear power plants, we got hundreds of excuses and lies to justify them, and thus the repression on the local populace.

And for me, the choice to cover issues like this was easy – when I started, there were less than a handful (of journalists) working on these issues. Koodankulam today has a very young talented photographer and a lot of decent writers. But coming back to central India, there were journalists like Ajit Sahi of Tehelka who’d come and go, and of course, there was P Sainath, whose work is as admirable as it could be, and I remember writing to him when I wanted to work in Dantewada but he himself barely touched the insurgency, the civil war in Bastar that really started in 2005, and his one warning does still ring true: ‘All work that challenges the status quo carries risks.’

Yet the choice I made, way back in 2009 in Dantewada is a principle I still follow – cover issues no one else is willing to touch. And my future editor Aditya Sinha, then in The New Indian Express gave me some valid advice: that if one newspaper starts (to report something), others follow. And that has been something I have noticed over the years.

Have you ever directly experienced any of the famed police atrocities that are written about so much?
I have experienced them (beatings, threats). But then you just keep doing your job. I honestly don’t feel it merits a description as it’s ancient history.

What has been the most heart-breaking incident that you have been witness to?
There have been too many. But there have even been many moments of joy. And the things that cause you joy, then face state repression or Maoist violence. And that really hurts. But recently, I was at Dhanbad at the Chasnala coal mine, where in 1975, some 380 miners drowned within seconds. It was something that happened when I wasn’t even born, and looking at the names on the memorial fading, the pieces of coal all around me, I just, I picked some coal up and kept it with me, remembering that 380 people died for these rocks, for ‘development’ to some, for ‘exploitation’ to others. And I just couldn’t forget it.

There is a box at home with these kinds of things, a photograph of a working class dalit musician who died of a heart attack, a map drawn of how a police firing took place at Ramabai Nagar by someone who lived it, a passport-sized photo of a young adivasi murdered by the police, gifted to me by his father, a lump of coal.

Which issue is closest to your heart?

Everything is connected. There are no hierarchies. Just difficult choices on where to travel when.

How did you get involved with the housing and displacement issue in Mumbai? What kind of research and on-field engagement goes into covering it?
Once I started coming home, I realised there was a lot happening in Mumbai – and I started with drawing parallels to ‘development’ with Ward M/Chembur East that has development indicators that are worst than some places in central India. And I knew someone in the housing movement and he told me about a place that was very close to home: Golibar.

And thus, every time I came back from central India, I found myself covering demolition drives there.

Have you worked with activists (such as Simpreet Singh in Mumbai) who work extensively against slum demolitions and displacement without rehabilitation?
Simpreet was the one who told me. The one I asked.

Which journalists and photographers have you had the chance to work with on your travels? What has the learning experience been like with each of them?
Many. There is a very long list. I am one of those guys who, thanks to the ethic of my editor, doesn’t give a hoot about getting the story first, so thus competition is something I did not give a f*** about. So I have always worked with whoever is in the area, or anyone who calls. In central India, you name the usual suspects, Aman Sethi of The Hindu, Tusha Mittal and Tarun Sehrawat of Tehelka, and I have worked with them.

Give us an example that illustrates the statement: ‘The law is an ass’. I’m sure you’ve encountered this several times in your work.
(Laughs) I have never heard that, but the sentiment it illustrates is true to only certain points. While there has been some movement by the judiciary towards judicial activism that has brought some moments of calm to the affected, the overall behaviour of the state has also found ways to subvert the judiciary itself. Mining in Goa takes place irrespective of orders by the Supreme Court, suspects are not brought before magistrates within 24 hours, the police doesn’t arrest builders who the High Courts have asked them to investigate, workers who won a court order to be regularised by ACC Holcim in Chhattisgarh are not being regularised, a CBI team sent to investigate an attack in Dantewada is attacked by Special Police Officers, and of course, while the Supreme Court bans the use of SPOs, they’re still there.

The law is not an ass. The law is made to look like an ass.

It is not always easy interacting with, and later coming to terms with, the problems and the lifestyles of slum dwellers. What was your experience the first time you decided to investigate or  document slum demolitions?
Honestly, I’ve never had problems interacting or coming to terms with the ‘lifestyles’ of slumdwellers. But slums themselves are not some homogenous mass, there are class distinctions, caste distinctions within all of them. Some slums are self-developed to the point that I have known upper-middle class funnies, considering renting a room there. Some, such as those built on the Deonar dumping grounds, are a universe of their own, a world upside down.

During a demolition drive, it can be difficult, but I’ve always managed to get across to both the police and the people. And I am now at that point, where I am euphoric if a demolition drive is cancelled.

How would you rate the performance of the police and the security forces in areas like Jharkhand and Chhatisgarh?
If we had a reality TV show on which is the most violent, corrupt police force in the country, I think it would be a very hard choice to make. But it would be the most-watched TV show in the country because everyone across the country has faced it somehow or the other.

There is even an infamous quote by Justice A N Mulla, that he was forced to expunge later: ‘I say it with all sense of responsibility that there is not a single lawless group in the whole country whose record of crime is anywhere near the record of that organised unit which is known as the Indian Police Force.’

And decades after he said that, a woman may get stones shoved up her vagina in Dantewada, but in Mumbai a watchman would get a packet of chillies shoved into his anus. In the past, a police station in Kerela had a history of committing sodomy.

Have you worked in Naxal-affected areas in Maharashtra?

I worked in Gadchiroli. I was there in 2010. It’s very different from its neighbouring districts, but the police operations and the daily repression of the police, Maoist ambushes of police, are still commonplace there.

Let’s talk about your exhibition of photographs, ‘Ghar’ (held in September 2012). How long did it take to compile all the pictures and set up the showing? What did you hope to achieve by having such an exhibition?

‘Ghar’ is just a work in progress as long as I keep working in dispossession, displacement and ‘development’ as you call it, and there have been photographs in the set from 2008 till 2012. And honestly, I don’t think I set out to achieve anything on the exhibition. I like working in the field, and for the last month, I really have missed it.

Have you held such exhibitions earlier?

This would be the first exhibition which I have attended. Usually, my photos are put up in public spaces or in working class neighbourhoods by the people who I took pictures of, themselves. Once, some people got together and had an open show at Carter Road, and a friend sent me a video of the responses of street children to the photographs of the killing of adivasis in central India. One child asked, “Wherever people are poor, do the police do this?”

What do your parents do? What are their feelings about your chosen line of work?
(Laughs) Father was in the IAS and is a great believer in the McMohan scheme of things. While he is ambivalent to know that my work challenges his idea and order of the world, and it’s really easy to beat him with logic, statistics, and the simple truth, the dinner table has become a lovely, more dramatic space. Mother is not surprised by what I document, she sometimes adds to it, with stories from the past.

But they are supportive. Even though, they, like all parents, are a bit circumspect when I get into trouble.

How did you start writing in newspapers?

I’m actually a writer. Photography is the second skill. Which makes me laugh about this whole interview. I started writing the same time I started taking pictures. Pictures told the story and the story was told by the pictures. I worked for the New Indian Express as a reporter when Operation Green Hunt, the second phase of the insurgency, was in full phase. Then when my editor quit in 2011, I quit. Since then, I’ve written for DNA, Tehelka, Al Jazeera, Infochange, Sunday Guardian, etc.

What are your thoughts on the alleged ‘disconnect’ that mass media has with issues that affect development, if such a disconnect exists, in the first place?

There is a gigantic disconnect. And to simplify, before we start talking about censorship of the press, advertising and corporate control over editorial, or editors who’re not supportive, we first need to challenge self-censorship itself. Most journalists don’t write, don’t report, because they themselves don’t give a shit.

Lastly what are you working on at the moment?
I’m working on a few stories, and a plan on getting back to reporting in Jharkhand or Orissa. As I told you, the hardest choice is to choose your tatkal ticket.

 

 

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