The Spirit of (In)Tolerance!

The Da Vinci Code has generated enough controversy across the world as a book. Several Christian Organisations including the Vatican have been vocal in protesting and condemning the book as it goes against the beliefs of Catholicism. However it didn’t create even a ripple when the book was sold in India. Until it was time for the release of the movie.

Suddenly there were protests. Various denominations of Catholic organisations have protested rabidly against the release of the movie. The Goan government too threw hats into the ring and asked for the movie to be banned.

The history of protests against creative expression in India is rather long. The first I recollect having come across is the banning of the book by Maulana Abdul Kalam Azaad (India Wins Freedom, if I’m right). It took many decades for the censored portions to appear in print. I wonder if it was the influence of Scientific Socialism on Nehru and Indian Government (read, Indian National Congress). Censorship in the (erstwhile) USSR then was very strong and hardly anything that went against the grain of Communism could be published. Later when I was in school a book in Kannada sent shockwaves among the Hindus and the Brahmans in particular. Polanki Ramamurthy, a Kannada Professor in the University of Mysore authored a book called "Seethayana", the tale of Ramayana retold from Seeta's point of view. Polanki Ramamurthy had also made the Brahmans see red because of his references to the Aswamedha sacrifice and its significance (and also had conveyed what was otherwise known in the history that the Brahmans and the priests during the Vedic period ate beef).

The South has seen a slew of movies parodying the Gods and the Goddesses of the Hindu religion (Telugu in particular has produced umpteen number of them). Surprsingly there have been little or no protests against this. I don't know if there was any protest against the recent Hindi movie though (as I'm in Bhutan and rarely read newspapers these days as they come at least 3 days late), "Wah Kya Life Hai", where Sanjay Dutt (portraying Lord Yama is shown dancing away at the disco and also trying to lift the girls' skirts!)!

My first terrifying incident of having however experienced fundamentalism/intolerance against freedom of expression was in late ‘80s(I've seen enough Hindu-Muslim riots as I come from Kolar; we also lived in a Muslim-majority locality for years and sometimes under fear too) . I was in +2. On a Sunday evening Bangalore was up in flames. They spread to other parts of Karnataka – including Mysore. Muslims were burning in rage against the publishing of a short story in a leading English daily published from Bangalore. Their rage burned newspaper offices, buildings, banners, people and freedom. The cities were ravaged. Leading the protesters in their heinous crimes were some politicians (FM Khan, then Congress MLA, thank God he’s dead). It didn’t take much time for the riots to turn communal (read, Hindu-Muslim).

The short story was published in the magazine section of the newspaper. It was titled ‘Mohammed the Idiot’. It narrated the story of a village bumpkin by the name Mohammed and had another character named Sita, a prostitute in the village. Muslims were protesting against the blasphemy. Ironically (it’s been almost 20 years and I hope my memory’s serving me right) the same story was published in Malayalam and it had won critical acclaim and even the State’s Academy Award (in a state that has a large Muslim population). The riots didn’t abate until the newspaper published an apology!

I also remember Muslims protesting (again late ‘80s) against a song in a movie called ‘Giraftaar’ (the song ‘Bolo Amin..’ a quawwali was picturised with a mosque set in the backdrop). But mercifully it didn’t stimulate any violent riots. A case filed in the court against the movie but the song stayed.

Militant Hindutva was still in its infancy then but soon was raring to go. A ‘me too’ Syndrome I guess (rather, ‘Why should we be denied the privilege of protesting against anything that’s right’ attitude). If Muslims can do it, why can’t we? So, we had Hindus protesting soon against anything that they could. I remember the spread of the Ayodhya conflict then (until late 80’s the general population in the South wasn’t aware that a controversy existed even). I saw activists from ABVP distributing pamphlets containing their version of the entire controversy and indoctrinating the young minds (more numbers, longer the riots). I remember even attending a few ABVP meetings with friends who were greatly influenced by the propaganda.

Very soon there were protests against the projection of Bal Thackeray in the movie ‘Bombay’ (there were protests against the title too but Maniratnam thankfully struck by it). There were protests by Muslims as to how the director could show a Muslim girl falling in love with a Hindu boy (would it have been fine if it were the other way round, I wondered). I didn’t like the movie though. It was just another glossy and didn’t show anything groundbreaking or earthshaking. It was a whimper (but the movie was a ‘Super hit’). These protests were soon followed by the Shiv Sainiks going berserk against the paintings of MF Hussein (painting ‘Hindu Goddesses’ in the buff, how dare he?). Intolerance again raised its ugly head when a research centre in Pune was ransacked for the alleged support extended to the publishing of the book on Shivaji. Should I dwell also on the protests against the filming of ‘Water’ in Varanasi? Or on ‘Satanic Verses’? Of course people like Mahesh Bhatt have exploited the rather edgy relations between the two communities and made movies that appeal to the pseudo-secularists (arm chair secularists), the left parties and the powers-that-be who decide on the awards (and sometimes box office goodies too).

If two large communities are protesting against the slurs (real and imaginary) committed, how long would the other communities just sit back and enjoy the show? They too wanted a piece of this rather sickeningly inviting pie. I don’t know if the Sikhs started it first or the Christians. They both have flexed their unhealthy muscles anyways. The first (albeit muted) protest of the Sikhs I recollect was against the portrayal of a Sikh character (a young boy) in Kuchh Kuchh Hota Hai. But the protests by Sikhs took an ugly turn last year when they turned violent and burnt everything in sight at the screening of ‘Jo Bole So Nihaal’ (pity, the producers must be thinking, that the movie didn’t benefit ‘coz of this).

Christians too have joined the bandwagon. There have been protests against movies after movies by them. Many have filed court cases. I remember the case of ‘Sins’. Now, The da Vinci Code’. There was one more movie in between (can’t remember the name though). All this leaves only the Jains and the Buddhists out of the protests. We must do something so that our brethren from these religions aren't left out of this unwholesome broth!

Intolerance (fortunately or unfortunately) hasn’t been just about religion. Since Indians thrive on hero (heroine) worship, anytime a leader with (some) mass base comes under the scanner, there are rallies, hartals, what-have-you. The biography of Mrs Indira Gandhi authored by Katherine Frank invited wrath from all Congress folk. Even from Maneka Gandhi. I think this was the only issue on which the two daughters-in-law were together (though altogether for different reasons). The book surprisingly didn’t see a ban. Much earlier, ‘Worshipping of False Gods’ by Arun Shourie created quite a stir and the entire Dalit class was up in arms against the journalist/politician for his take on Ambedkar. People from the earlier generations surely would be familiar with the fates of the movies, ‘Kissa Kursi Ka’ and ‘Aandhi’ at the hands of Mrs. Gandhi. Another book (a biography again) that indicates that Sanjay Gandhi was gay also has come under the Congress hammer (I don’t remember the title). Political parties have been on an one-upmanship when it comes to censorship and intolerance. But surprisingly, any comments and books on Gandhi (against especially) finds no protests (true to his principles of non-violence, should I say?). So, no more nudity on screen, no kissing (it’s against Indian ethos), no FTV and cut all scenes of sex, violence and inappropriate language from even movies coming from abroad.

Yes, the Government in its wisdom has desisted from banning the movie, ‘The da Vinci Code’. It’ll run with the disclaimer that ‘This is a work of fiction’ (What else was it to begin with?). But the attention that it has created (the protests and not the result) will surely strengthen the will of mischief mongers. I’d advise everyone (sensible) to brace up for more and even more protests, violence, riots and such other acts of intolerance.

Intolerance doesn’t end just there. Even projection of reality isn’t tolerated. So, ban anything that comes too close to reality (why not ban reality itself?). Or, at least demand for the ban seems to be the new mantra. Ban anything that offends anyone’s sensibilities. At this rate, one should ban television, cinema, writing, arts, sculpture, science, destroy all existing manifestations of creativity and ultimately ban living. That would be real tolerance. If one ends Life from the planet there wouldn’t be any intolerance left too. Just peace and tolerance around! Any takers?

India surely stands unified today as never before. We are united on being a divided lot. We are all united on one issue - of being intolerant. The process of Talibanisation (borrowed, plagiarised term) of the society is marching ahead. The British alas aren't in the country to watch with pride!

Wild(e), (O)scar

I rushed to answer the ringing phone. Mohan was on the other end. “Hi! Didn’t go anywhere this Sunday?”
“No company to go out on trek.”
“Your friend’s back. He even visited me this morning.”
“Oh! I didn’t know.”
“I thought you’d taken my bicycle and gone somewhere.”
“Your bicycle? I didn’t know you’d one.”
“Yeah, someone’s stolen my bicycle.”
I was surprised. This was the first instance of burglary at Dantak.
“Any clues?”
“None.”
Mohan’s dog, Simba, a Labrador, too had vanished without a trace. Now, he had lost his cycle. His family hadn’t yet stopped crying over Simba. Even I – one who didn’t like pets - felt miserable.

The news spread all over Dantak. “Sir, these days the CPL’s have started gambling a lot. They’ve made Col. Harpal’s house their adda (in his absence). In fact, just yesterday night I scolded Arjun”, Adhikari said. “There are too many of these Bhutanese boys coming here to play and there’s no check on them”, someone else said. “The security is lax; the sentries don’t walk around the residential complex during nights”, a lady cooed. Soon police complaint was lodged and men were sent around to locate the missing cycle.

What followed was pathetic. I learnt from Mohan that he had lined up all the Bhutanese boys that come to play basketball in our premises and told them that they’d not be allowed to play anywhere till they found the cycle for him! “How could you do that?” I couldn’t control and blurted. “You don’t find any of these Bhutanese boys roaming around. They rarely move beyond the basketball court”. “Yeah, I know. But, they should know that any behaviour wouldn’t be tolerated.” I just shook my head in exasperation.

That evening as I was sipping coffee I saw two GREF men working furiously on the hoops. “Kya kar rahe ho?” “Sir, we are trying to remove these nets. Too many local kids come here to play”. “Who asked you to do this?” “Sir, Havaldar Major ne bataaya. Some officer must’ve complained”. I could only sulk.

After my evening walk, I ambled into the badminton court and played a couple of games with Mohan, Kuriakose, Kashyap, Ramaswamy and Atul Gupta. We all walked back to Mohan’s house for snacks and tea (it seems this is THE routine among all these badminton players). Their respective ladies too had joined. The topic invariably went to the missing cycle.

“I thought you were serving these snacks and tea ‘coz you’d found the cycle”, Kashyap said.
“No, it’s not yet found.”
“But, today we’ve ensured that no kid was allowed to come inside to play.”
“A sentry was posted below the staircase so that the kids weren’t allowed in”.
I was aghast. “Why did you have to do that? You don’t even know that these kids have stolen?”
“But a message had to be sent across..”
“What message?”
“These kids make a lot of noise. They’re here for too many hours. It’s quite disturbing. Our children don’t even get to play.”
“Who asked your children not to play? In fact these boys would be too happy to get more children to play with them. And, your children definitely would learn to play and become fitter if they played with the local boys.”
“That’s true..”
“But you’d not want them to play with them. Right? And, you want them not to come inside during daytime while the theft happened in the night. You’ve forgotten that you also were children once and you also would play noisily and without any sense of time.” I rambled.

I suddenly remembered the story of Oscar Wilde. The story of a giant who had a beautiful garden where children would come to play. Annoyed with them, the demon shooed the children away. The garden wilted. The giant realized his folly and asked the children to come and play in his garden. The garden bloomed, the birds sang as children played and the giant was happy.

When would our demons and giants realize this?

Epilogue
Just as I finished writing this Mohan called. “Bad news”. “What happened now?” “Simba was found dead behind the Officers’ Mess. Shalini’s inconsolable” he himself was in tears as he said this. “Don’t tell Monty that Simba’s no more” I told as I tried my best to console. A sad episode. The dog was probably poisoned to its death. Another manifestation of demons in us. One more demon to be slayed. One more vanquisher needed. Where does one find them though – vanquishers, not the demons!

Void

Hiatus. A hiatus that was long, unnecessary, unproductive, regressing, retrograde, wasted and meaningless. I could thus describe my break from the routine that I’d set after setting foot in Bhutan.

I was chugging along nicely till March. I devoured new books, thought I’d broadened my rather narrow horizons and I’d set a fitness regime that was no run-of-the-treadmill. Then I let it all slip. I took – what I thought was a well deserved – a break. The break from my new routine happened after my trip to India (surprisingly I’d maintained my schedules even there; I ran, walked, jogged and stayed away from vices largely). After a few treks too! And, it’s so easy to blame it on Dantak Day fever!

I had assumed the charge of being the Editor of the Souvenir being brought to commemorate 45 years of Dantak in Bhutan (and elsewhere). But, did I really do the job? I did. Did I do it well? A resounding no is the answer. I wasted time, took a month to finish what would otherwise have taken less than a week (for me), depended on others to work for me, played the blame game to perfection, gossiped all the while, took pot-shots at people, drank like a sod, smoked like a chimney, made promises everyday morning and broke them promptly by evening, hurt my ego (and nursed it myself), grew my tummy, played jawbreaker all the time, watched godforsaken movies on the telly, surfed the net for the smut mirage, got down from my lofty pedestal (of being holier-than-thou) and got abusive, hardly pushed pen at office and shirked all responsibilities. Over the responsibility of being Editor, the Great. In essence, I grew sick. Both physically and mentally. Completely.

Ah! That unmatched bliss of gossiping! It got my goose (or is it goat?). I had enough people to crib about and even more to listen to the crap (and contribute their mighty mite too).
“M isn’t helping much in my work. He keeps promising but it’s been over a month and hasn’t even designed the cover page.”
“Sir, sab aise hi hain.”
“I think I’ll simply give up this task of editing. Who wants it yaar, when you don’t get any support?”
This piece would repeat itself. Ad nauseum.

Another setting. Another conversation.
“Everyone’s a thief here. But, only one’s a tiger. The rest of them are all dogs. Only H snatches meat even from the mouth of the dog and has it for himself.”
“Yeah, the other dogs consider that they’ve been treated to a banquet after picking up the crumbs thrown at them.”
“It’s difficult to stop their ways.”
“No, I know how to do it. Unlike my predecessor who used to pick fights, I don’t. But, I’ll stop their ways. Keep watching”

“Mrs. M thinks she’s the Chief Engineer. She tried to order me around over accommodating ladies coming from RCC”
“Really? What happened?”
“She wanted them to be accommodated in JL. But Sir, that’s for officers of the rank of Colonel and above. When BS was the Chief, he didn’t even allow his colonel to stay there. Now, even Majors want to stay there”
“And?”
“Now, since I asked the ladies to move from JL to CL, their respective husbands are upset”
“How nice!”

“C hardly can be trusted. Sir, he abuses M in front of you, you in front of me and he abuses even the Chief”.
“I know. He’s quite disrespectful too. Have you seen the way he addresses the ladies? I was at Y’s place and … “
“Sir, I know. I was shocked…”
“And, when I was Phuentsholing, R had invited us both – C and I – for dinner. I was taken aback at the way he would talk at Mrs. R”
“Really Sir? This isn’t done. Some day he’ll really get it from me”.

“Sir did you see the way C is sitting and trying to mollify Mrs. G?”
“Yeah, I do. Right now he’s the stray dog wanting to find a home for himself. He’s trying his best to impress Mrs. G with his whines, sad stories and his loyalty(?)”
“Ha ha ha. Exactly. How can he sit on the ground as an officer and talk like that?”
A while later.
“Sir, now he’s moved on to the sofa.”
“He’s now been accepted as a pet by the G family. Look at the way he’s being fed.” More laughter.

All through the days of working (?) for Dantak Day Celebrations, the only productive work that happened was sharpening one’s tongue and honing one’s skills at acerbic wit. The above narration may not reflect either wit or acidity. But it was all in evidence during the real conversations.

And, why am I writing all this? I woke up to reality, that’s why. I woke up with nausea. A nausea that was caused by an overdose of booze, bawdy talk and bluffing. I’m trying to clear my sickness, get out of alcohol-induced stupor and stupidity.