Cultural Nationalism - Myths and Reality

" Cultural nationalism is a form of nationalism in which the nation is defined by a shared (inherited) culture, as opposed to, for instance, its ethnicity or its institutions." - Wikipedia.

In the recent years, vested and crooked interests are being served in the name of nationalism, ethnicity, religion along with a topping of our ancient cultural beliefs and practices. Beliefs and practices are mostly dependent on the contemporary conditions prevalent in the country, be it political, social or religious. Our beliefs, the value system are more or less dependent upon how we perceive the world we live in, how it affects our basic needs of life. Once fulfilled, the human mind tries and transcends boundaries which otherwise would seem obsolete or much far-fledged. A sense of aura and belief in the righteousness and truthfulness of our customs and traditions and negating the right to others to try and propagate their beliefs and practices, seems to some as preserving their value system, their culture. Hinduism, Christianity, Islam having the largest number of followers, some sort of a ghettoization occurs. The state and the machinery also to some extent seem to be a mirror image of the society and people start believing that one who accepts the beliefs, practices, customs of the majority can qualify to be one among them or atleast a protege and others seem to be an intrusion into their social sphere. In the recent times, people following other customs and culture are often seen as a threat to the overall integrity and a sense of oneness of the society. People forget that the social fabric woven with the ideas from different beliefs, practices, idealogies interwined makes it even more stronger and divergent. Life on a single platform would seem to be highly monotonous and derived of the pleasure of peeping on the other side of the fence.

The events in India in the last two decades changed the entire scenario of looking at secularism. It all began by the killings of Kashmiri Brahmins by the more fanatic militants and therafter by the growing feeling of hindutva flared by the leadership of Bhartiya Janta Party, RSS and the likes. Suddenly, we started hearing references to the mughal ruler Aurangzeb and Babur, questions like even when hindus are in majority still they can't build a temple at the place of their choice. Society was divided on the basis of caste lines and INDIANS were divided into Hindus, Muslims, Christians. Supplemented by the terrorist activities in the other parts of the world, muslims started being considered as perpetrators of hatred, violence and unrest. Parties like BJP, who initially flourished on the basis of this hindutva brigade find it hard to contain them. Being an Indian has started to find some sort of resonance with the idea that this is a Hindu land and others living here may consider themselves blesses, atleast this is what the political class tried to convey to the general public.

After 1992, cultural nationalism is often confused as nationalism. People assert their nationalism on the basis of culture or beliefs. Cultural nationalism when caters to uniting the nation against myths, superstitions is a great force and a belief which should take the country forward but when it tends to break down the civil society into heterogeneous group often at crossroads with each other then it is nothing more than a myth, a mirage. The younger generation today, on one hand seems to going great guns about the technological advancements, social networking and the western lifestyle but when it comes to giving something to the society, they seem mentally bankrupt. Society is polarised and lines of fire drawn between different communities. People don't trust each other and the real nationalism takes a back seat, a nationalism which should augment the nation building process, actually tries to pull it down. It is high time we give CULTURE and NATION its rightful place and then the country will prosper.

The night sky

Somehow my observation of the night sky makes me believe that the density of the stars on a summer night is far higher than when the winter has set in. I remember when i was a small kid and we use to sometimes sleep on the roof during the summers, there use to be no electricity often in our small town and almost all of the neighbourhood use to sleep on their roofs or outside their houses (not on the road - villages/towns have something called a baramda / sitout), i use to remain wide awake watching the stars, some use to occasionally wink, some seemed bright and the other less in brightness. Among the different structures i use to make by joining them, virtually, the Saptarishi as we call them, attracted me the most. While people had their own versions of how they adorned the sky and what there shape was, to me it always seems as the numeral 2 rotated 90 degree to the right (remembered my first LOGO program RT90 must be the command). Always seemed to be in the northeast side, i had a sort of friendship with them, the sight gave me a feeling of comfort and peace, i acknowledged that now is the time to forget all the other things and sleep well for a good day tomorrow. Even in our college, i use to lay in the nights on our hut shaped roof and watch them, sometimes for hours and peace use to be mine.

After a long time, last sunday, i found my friends back again. I went to Mayajal multiplex in chennai and when i came out of the movie MNIK (good one, one time watch) i saw them in the clear night sky. The night was cool and silence abound, i sat on my bike in the parking area and gazed for a few minutes. The Saptarishi as if reminding me of the real essence of life. Night and day complete each other, one without the other is incomplete and cannot serve the purpose. Even in the darkness of night, the stars signify some brightness, they give hope of a new morning full of life, warmth and vigour awaiting the individual. Only because of the night, the day seems bright. In life, we may have shortfalls, failures but maybe it is the way of life. If there is night, then maybe there will be light too. Keep going on in life, making sure we do not hurt others and think about them the same as we think others should feel about us. Many a times, we fail on certain aspects and commit follies which are condemnable, but if an incumbent learns from his mistake then maybe there will again be light.

WISHING ALL OF YOU MORE AND MORE BRIGHTNESS IN YOUR LIFE.

I saw my friends for 10-15 minutes and then rode back home, only to come back and seek solitude in their dim light and make a better person.

Religion vs Science - the age old tussle

The world we live in is a heterogeneous mix of people belonging to different caste, creed, culture, diverse ideas and beliefs. Man, in the pursuit of his desires, tries to explore all the avenues of this world, be it natural or supernatural. Man is termed as the smartest animal, who differs from others because of the advanced mind, which nature has bestowed.
With each day bringing new ideas and inventions to the fore, the age old divide between religion and science has widened. To some, God, his beliefs, teachings from religious scriptures, saints, is a way of life while for others anything beyond logic and proof ain't worth looking into.
Since ages, people would debate on what was good and worthy and what not. In the pursuit of their desires, they tried to explore all the avenues available and often came to startling observations of the world we live in.


Science teaches us the art of life. What we see, feel, hear and do in our normal lives, the technology we use all seem to be manifestations of the various options that go in the making of nature. The use of scientific methods and applications expose us to the WAY different things work and the various principles governing them. With the advancement of technology, we have been able to harness different forms of energy and use them in making our life more comfortable. Science has not only contributed towards the comforts of our lives but also in the eradication of terminal diseases, control and pre-information of natural calamities, pest control for crops, information and communication technology and the likes.

Religion on the other hand, though talks about a power which is central to our lives, an unseen controller of our fates, the incidents in our lives, a sort of governor of man's past, present and future. But, the central idea there too is on WHAT to do - actions , so that a human being may live with dignity, respect the independence of others around him, have and show virtues central to making this world a better place.

In short, religion teaches us the WHAT TO DO in life and science HOW TO DO and thus religion and science seem to complement each other. One without the other, may not be able to do justice and serve the mankind the way it is possible now.

Pulsar

After driving a Hero Honda CD100SS, Yamaha RX100, Suzuki shogun and my favourite Royal Enfield Bullet a couple of times, this new bike parked in the porch of our Hostel caught my attention. A metallic blue coloured pulsar, shining in the morning sun. After few minutes came the owner, Vipin Misra, then a senior to me, now a close friend as well. He use to come to the hostel to meet his fellow classmate and friend Raman Gupta sir, that day offcourse he had come on his new Blue coloured Bajaj Pulsar. I remember, i was standing in the porch, when Vipin sir was ready to go, but i wanted some one to give me an excuse to try out the beauty. But, destiny had other plans, i had to let that wish go only to fulfilled few years later in hyderabad, when i rode the beauty. That day, in my hand, it was smiling, as if trying to say, you now are worth me.

Rani

" Throw her out", this was the first greeting i got from the world, so different from what i use to hear and dream about, during the 9 months i was in mother's womb. Suddenly, i was someone unwelcome, unwanted, suitable only to be thrown to stray dogs or strangled to death, I, was Rani, the girl child. Had it not been for mother, i would have been a history, an untold one, never to be talked or heard everafter. For the next few months, the only companion i had was mother, her untiring spirit to keep me alive against all odds, she had been through, what i was being through now. Mother was beside me all the time, feeding, cleaning and taking care of the the household chores as well. We had a big family, father, mother, grandfather, grandmother and many uncle and aunts, most of them keeping to themselves. Even on festivals we rarely celebrated them together, mother was cursed everytime by them, because she bore me and doctors now said, she can have no more childrens.
Slowly i started growing and seeing and understanding the world around me. Father earned a meagre salary as a daily wage labourer, the hard earned 30Rs or so which he use to get after working at the brick kiln, were hardly sufficient to run the household. Some days when it use to rain or otherwise the work was stopped, all we could do was to drink plain water mixed with some lemon juice from Ramu kaka's garden and salt. Father was becoming old, when i was born he was already 32, and now 10 years later, after the hard work that he did, even at 42 he resembled more older than the man in the big cloth hung on the main road. Mother told me, that guy was the local MLA, an affluent politican and around 15 years older to my father. I use to wonder and ask mother, "Maa, when will our photo displayed like this on the main road", mother use to laugh and turn her face, only to hide her tears. I was still discovering the world.
One day, when i was 14, this young man came to our house with my father. His name was Ramphal, he was also a daily wage earner and use to work in the factory nearby. But he looked more handsome and healthy, mother told me, he earned 50Rs. per day and he had a cow at home, whom he milched and earned money by selling the milk to the co-operative dairy. That day, mother gave me a new dress to wear, father too asked me to come and sit and he told the young man how talented i was, how i could cook for 100 people in 1 hour and knit designer sweaters and clean and maintain the house when my parents went to work. They even told him, i knew algebra, the name father kept on reciting for the past few days, to be able to vomit it in front of the stranger. The man, who was going to be his daughter's husband, was impressed, i think more by my physical appearance than by my skills in algebra.
Monday, the 20th day of June, was fixed for my marriage with Ramphal. I was excited and could not sleep the whole night, waiting for the morning so that i can go and disclose to my friends that in a fortnight i will be going to my prince charming, that he was going to come on a horse and take me with him, up high the mountain of love, that he will care for me and i will love him as if there was none other than him, in this world. Days and night started passing like running water from a broken pitcher, my wedding day came. I was dressed and while the local pandit recited the mantras, my eyes were filled with the dreams about future, about the new life i was going to have. Next day morning, we started in a rickshaw to my new household, Ramphal on his bicycle, which he got repaired specially for the marriage, his friends and relatives walking slowly with us.

Ramphal's house was a smaller one, although bigger than ours. At the entrance were two bamboo chairs, for visitors. Inside was a big bed, like the one i saw in a song of movie, ....m....mmm.., i forgot the name. Ramphal told me, the bed is a gift from his affluent uncle who lived in a big city, and the almirah, from his another uncle, who too lived in some big city, and those were the only two blood relatives that he had in this world. All others were co-passengers.

The first few days after marriage were filled with fun, love, caring. I loved to hear him speak, cook his food, wash his clothes, and when all done, wait for him to come back from work. Slowly time passed and i became pregnant. When i delivered this news to Ramphal, he was elated and took an appointment at the new doctor's clinic, which had opened in our village recently. I was afraid on one side and happy on the other. The pain of labour use to make me worried, but the happiness on Ramphal's face made all my worries look miniature.

I bore a child, it was a male child, we named him Ramdhan. He had a wheatish complexion, eyes big like his father and face round like mine. During daytime i always had to be there to take care of him, he had become so naughty in a few months time, that anything and everything which caught his attention, he wanted to grab it, it was the burning stove or the lighting lamp.

One day, Ramphal told me that he was in debt, the interest on the credit, he had taken to celebrate Ramdhan's birth, was mounting and he was finding it difficult to manage the household. Reluctantly, he asked me whether i would work as a house help at his factory owner's guesthouse. Initially i opposed, ramdhan was so small, but then i agreed, anyways i was supporting Ramphal. I started going for work from the very next day, leaving ramdhan at my mother's house and bringing him back while returning.

The work at the guesthouse wasn't very hectic, at least i thought so. I had to broom and mop the 5 odd rooms and clean the clothes. As everyday the guesthouse wasn't occupied, i took time off and watched television, when no one use to be there, sometimes practicising the dance steps in some song. Life was going on smoothly, until the houseowner Ramesh told me one day that some people are going to stay in the guesthouse and i had to clean there clothes and look after them too.I was a bit perturbed, but considered it part of the job and agreed. Next day, the five visitors arrived, all in their mid 20's. They wore designer clothes, smoked and dranked during the night and use to wake up late in the morning. The obnoxious smell, from their rooms and clothes use to make me give vomiting sensation, but somehow i managed.
One day, while i was working alone, i noticed something peeping through the crack in the window pane. I immediately got up and opened the window, it was Sanjay, one of ramesh's close friend who use to visit the guesthouse occassionally. I got angry and banged the window on his face, he turning back just in time, before his nose was smashed by the window pane. This took him to surprise but he got over it and came back for me, before i could knew he had held his hand on my neck, strangulating me, choking me. He had a long rope in his hand and with that he tied me by the neck to the window grills, i was shouting for help but none was so near or preferred to be near to hear my cries. The day reminded me of the day i was born, i wasn't considered worth then and here i was tied by the neck, my only fault, that i was trying to save myself. For the next two hours i was tied like this, in the afternoon sun, my whole skin burnt. After such torture, i had started feeling dizzy and could no longer bear the heat. When i woke up, i was in a bed, with no clothes and scratch marks on my whole body, i was raped, not by 1 but 9 men, all accomplices of sanjay. My hands tied behind my back, as if i was a slave, who was brought into this world only to be used, at the hands of men. I was helped by one of the boys, who came back from their day's work, who choose to lend me their t-shirts but who kept mum on coming with me to the polcie station. I was simply told to remain quiet and go home, and i did. Reaching home, i narrated this whole incident to Ramphal, initially he was angry but when he heard Sanjay's name, he pacified and told me to forget it. I was outraged, did i not have a value, was i too be used and thrown away like this. Did my insult, my injury made no difference to anyone. I was assaulted in braod daylight, by people older enough to be my uncles, and yet none was ready to help me, not even the prince charming who had vowed to protect me against all odds. I was aghast, shattered by the sheer lack of care, lack of respect and will to fight for my rights. No body was ready to help me, because i was a women, physically weaker and mentally fragile. I felt the world crumble in front of me, the women who gives birth, who is considered so pure was treated some inhuamenly and no body was coming to her rescue.

At dawn, i decided i wanted to die. I started to move swiftly towards the ridge, i will jump from it and end this pain, this agony, for ever. As i was moving, i suddenly saw something lying, it was an abandoned child, it was a girl. Soaked in mud and water, it was lying in a pool of blood and scars all around. I had just come on time and saved it from being devoured from the stray dogs. I took the baby in my arms and cried loudly, is there someone in this world who would save us. I cried my heart full, the idea of jumping down the ridge too passed. I held her in my lap, i knew i had a job to do, i vowed, i would not let the same happen to her. That day, we left the village.

Memoirs - 1

Initial days at bhopal weren't very pleasant, atleast, when the past was present. We were into our introduction days with the seniors, remembering their names and doing small errrands for them, apart from the schedule at college. It was almost mid september and the seniors were expecting the semester exams in december, max. The day use to start around 6 AM, all the first year students getting ready before it was 7, the time around which seniors use to get up, and then use to rush to get ready for college. The juniors did minor errands for them, all conventional and nothing which could hurt the modesty or be derogatory for an individual. Classes use to start at 8 AM and continue till 2 PM with a 30 minutes break in between. Physics lab on alternate monday (i think so !) had both its share of blessing and swearing. Blessing, because the lab was beside a pond, which after the rains, was full of water, and the serene garden opposite to the Indira Kanya Chatravaas, the lab inside was also cooler, somehow. Swearing, because we had to walk all the way from the hostel to the lab, a distance of around 1.2 km, in the burning sun, the rays like the mythological MAYA, trying hard to stop us from reaching our goal, sometime feigning itself as sleep, sometimes as fatigue and a host of others.
Suddenly, one day, like the sudden rain on a otherwise hot day, like a drop of water for the thirsty throat, our seniors announced that the preparations for the Durga Pooja festival will start soon and they need active participation from us as well. We, students from different part of the country, felt, for the first time, our power, the sense of unity, the first lesson in organising an event on a large scale, even if i was just a link in the chain. We collected chanda from all the university departments, satya bhawan, and among ourselves too, decorated the hostel, cleaned our rooms and the Devi Bhawan opposite to the mess. Finally, on the due date, we all went in trucks to bring our Devi and venerate her for the next 9 days, seeking her blessings and asking forgiveness for our sins. These festivities continued, bringing a slight morning chill with them as well, the season was changing, so was our lives, we were no more new to the place, we were slowly getting acclimatized, like a new born, feeling the care and warmth and in the mother's lap. We were going home too, for the next 20 days or so, for diwali vacations, although not official, but a first hand example of mass bunk, not knowing then, what irreparable damage we were going to do for ourselves, shattering our image in front of the teachers. Going home, first time from Bhopal, had a different charm, i no longer had to think about getting admission somewhere, i was free to enjoy the time, the real vacations after 2 long years of struggle to get into a good engineering college. Time flew fast and i was back to the hostel, rules back in place, the air outside was chilly but my inside was burning like a bonfire, young but wild. But this fire did not last long and we had our freshers party on 6th December 2001, and we were free birds, seniors now allowed us entry into their fold, we liked them and they too, slowly appreciating our efforts and breaking the ice.

I have become old, remembering those good old days which seem as if they happened yesterday, bring back memories of the people i met, the relationship we shared. May GOD bless them.

University Institute of Technology, Barkatullah University Campus, Bhopal

10th September, 2001, my first day in college, and Dinesh Agarwal sir came for the first lecture. I was amused why my other classmates were wearing some sort of a dress, the girls with bright red ribbons in their hairs and the guys had the same red coloured socks. Only after the first 2 lectures i realised why i wasn't dressed like them, because i belonged to the hostel and the others were either localites or people who chose not to live in the hostel and live elsewhere, either rented apartments or PG accomodation. Sometimes i wonder, how parents too had to bend in front of the seniors of the college, just to make sure their kid is safe and nothing out of place happens to their wards, strange case, unheard atleast in the place where i came from, a small town of Uttar Pradesh. Anyways, coming back to the college, after the 3rd lecture, we, the hostlers were told to come to the pharmacy department and stand with other seniors and stop the roads leading to the deaprtments, including our own for getting PCI recognition for the Department of Pharmacy, BU. While it was a source of entertainment for a few, i was already cursing as to why were we there, when we should be in college. But there was no answer, infact a group of 3rd year B.E. senior girls were passing and they wanted an introduction from the 1st year juniors at the hostel. Someone among us, may have tried to look how the seniors girls looked like, and another moment, we all heard this loud chorus, 'Eyes Down'. I was amused, a small town guy, and girls telling him to keep his eyes down, ha ha ha ha ha......

I will continue the story....an abend in Production is forcing me to call off for the day. Take care !!