Peepli Live: Nero’s Feast

Yesterday, I watched the latest hindi flick, Peepli Live. The basic premise of the movie is on the ‘oh-so-serious issue,’ Farmers’ suicide! The story is set in a small village called Peepli, where a farmer on the brink of losing his small piece land thinks of taking away his life. How his family, the government, and the media react to this forms the rest of this story. Most of the reaction is comical, plain stupid, and irresponsible. The government officials fight over the ‘right’ scheme to fit this case under, the politicians look for political mileage, the family grieves and even throws its hands in despair, and the media just wring the issue completely to up their TRP ratings. And, all of this is captured in various ways; for example, the politicians make it out into a caste-based, election issue, the local government official spurs into action and brings a hand pump, the media frenzy outside the poor farmer’s house creates a carnival-like situation, etc. And, finally, the inevitable happens, and everything simply quietens down. It’s basically back to business, with no money or livelihood in sight for the farmer's family, except that the area now is filled with trash, thanks to media-generated carnival.

As I walked out of the movie hall, several questions kept whizzing past. Now, why is a movie made? Or, why do people go to movies? And, what is actually funny? Apparently, the movie is written and directed by some Anusha Rizvi, who’s a debuntante director. I wonder if the director even for a moment paid any attention to what this farmer’s suicides are all about! Clearly, in some ways, the director did know what she was talking about. The first few shots dealt rather well about the grim reality of farmers in this country. But, one was just not prepared to see the goriness of the director’s imagination/gall to poke fun at this! It’s a different thing when you capture the ethos of the village life and see an occasional laughter even amidst grinding poverty, but what Peepli Live did to the village/the issue was much beyond any limits of human insensitivity!

For example, would you laugh at someone’s death? Would you laugh at someone who runs to defecate, because you have taken over his land and even his subsistence? Isn’t it bad enough that such luxuries of multiplex viewing, 100% foreign direct investment of MNCs, branded jeans, footwear, and jewellery, etc are possible because the villages in India have been rid of their wealth and the villagers have been kicked out of their homes and livelihood to come and serve the city-dwellers as construction workers and house servants? Should even their sorrow and distress be made into things that can be laughed at? Can’t we leave alone at least their sorrow to themselves? In the name of bringing the issue into the imagination of this great Indian middle class, should you (Aamir Khan) dilute and distort the issue to some sort of a comical performance? Only this came to mind as I heard all these people sitting in a multiplex in Chennai and laughing their hearts out as the poor farmer and his family tried to negotiate the loss of their sole piece of land and actually discuss a suicide:

Nero, the ‘great’ king once decided to treat his guests in his garden in the evening. But, there was a problem with the lighting. After some thought, the issue was settled. And the party happened with much fun fare and laughter and much light from the burning slaves, who were burned so that the laughter and party could continue. (Source: Globalizing Inequality by P. Sainath)

In this lecture, P. Sainath wonders, “What sort of sensibility did it require to pop another fig into your mouth as one more human being went up in flames nearby to serve as 'a nightly illumination?” I have just this one thing to tell him, the sensibility that had all the women, men, and children (yesterday at the movie theater in Chennai) cracking up as a human being and his family was completely stripped of their agency/dignity to decide, think, or even to live. 

Yesterday, as I walked out of the movie hall, it was with Nero’s guests I walked out. It was quite a weird and a holocausty feeling to be amidst them and to have seen a film made by one of them; the Nero’s guests!

A Response to the Times (Now)!

Yesterday, I had the misfortune of tuning into TimesNow, which I believe is definitely sponsored by some right-wing, casteistic, anti-people, anti-woman party. It’s one channel, besides of course CNN and NDTV, that strives consistently to remain true to upper-class aspirations. Be it Australian attacks, the Indian cricket team’s deplorable behavior in other countries, or naxalism (latest in their kitty), TimesNow and its journalist Arnab Goswani have shown to the world where their real interests lie, what they want to promote, and whose shoes they lick! All that they care about is just money! And, they go no holds barred to achieve their sinister goals by spreading lies, lies, and lies!

Yesterday’s debate (well, that’s what the channel called it) on naxalism (the new threat to internal security) left me hopping mad! Not only because of the hollowness or the stupidity of the debate, but also in the manner in which a TV channel, claiming to be the media, conducted itself! They just sunk to levels lower than what can be comprehended as the behavior of a demented and deranged mind! It seemed like a circus in which a drunken, illiterate monkey was doing a salsa with its own reflection! Of course, for some funny reason, there were the most radical of the dissendent voices on the debate, but what was undeniable is how the entire debate seemed just like a farce! I couldn’t quite put my finger on what I was seeing; why should a clearly pro-establishment, highly regressive news channel appear to have a free and fair debate!

The following quote of Chomsky came to my mind as the actual reason for this farce:

"The smart way to keep people passive and obedient is to strictly limit the spectrum of acceptable opinion, but allow very lively debate within that spectrum - even encourage the more critical and dissident views. That gives people the sense that there's free thinking going on, while all the time the presuppositions of the system are being reinforced by the limits put on the range of the debate."

Now to the event that triggered off this great, informed debate that this demented psycho kicked off. Even before the debate can take off, he looks all sad and deep into the camera and clears his throat and goes on and on about how naxals are terrorists and that they have resorted to Taliban style killing; well, I didn’t know the channel hired people who were experts on Taliban; it makes me wonder if Taliban actually trained these people! The point here is a TV channel seems to declare ‘truths’, even without proper investigation of proof! Of course, you can always resort to a tame apology the following day when the world has already been poisoned enough! This brings me to the next question: what does the channel and its monkey actually want! A country that is intolerant to any kind of dissent and people who condone extra judicial killings in cold blood. Isn’t it incumbent upon the media to play the role of a devil’s advocate? Why do the hell do we need a media like this? They are even worse than the state itself! They are already pronouncing judgments even when the cases on people are sub-judice! What do we, as sane people, do? I couldn’t find a more fitting call for all of us; interestingly the call has been sounding for over a century!

Only through the people's highest intellectual maturity and inexhaustible idealism can it (society) be brought safely through all storms and find its way to port.

Rosa Luxemborg.

Whys?

Why
Yes, why?
For what?
Then again why?
No, why?
Why the holy hell?
what the hell, anyway?
like who cares
anyway!
the anyways and howevers
a split second now
and then
gone away in a moment
been there
far away in the past
flippant talk
what the hell
like who cares
who cares
the unshed tears and careless whispers
why
and, why?

Two Rapes and a Bandh

During the fag end of last week, one was assaulted with twin rape stories, a gang rape of a girl and a rape of a domestic help by the house owner. What’s interesting, or rather revolting, is the way people/media/the police interpret rape and these cases. In the first case, the police say that the victim was in a ‘compromising’ position with her boyfriend. For once, the state viewed this statement from the police through a feministic lens and promptly transferred him! Well, one mustn’t forget the fact that this incident happened in Gujarat (whoa! Only the name sends shivers down one’s spine), where 1000s of Muslim women were not only raped, but also had steel rods and wooden planks inserted into them during the Gujarat 2002 riots! Before looking at the communal edge this rape victim has over the several other women raped in her state, we must try to see how rape is used as a tool by the patriarchal society to: 1. Perpetuate violence on ‘the other’ community, class, and gender 2. Subjugate woman by making her think that honor is all that MUST matter to her. 3. Make the woman herself responsible for the violence as well.

Rape, as a lot of movies, media, and books would have us believe, is not about sex. It’s about power. Several studies have been done and books written to ascertain this fact. It about the ultimate subjugation of the prey by the predator, where the predator uses all available mechanisms to acquire the prey. In a way speaking, if rape can be considered murder (of course, it’s an extrapolation), it’s a premediated, cold-blooded act. Therefore, it is a well devised tool to cause damage to ‘the other’s’ sense of dignity and humanity. This takes us to the next point: honor. Here comes our understanding of the origin of private property, which led to the commodification and ownership of women. In this scenario, the woman and her body are owned in toto by the nearest patriarchal figure: father, brother, husband, or son. So, any ‘harm’ done to the woman’s body (she doesn’t have a mind, you see!) directly affects the owner. And hence, the man is supposed to protect his woman with his life (in reality, by erasing any semblance of her real self). No wonder, the society developed institutions such as the purdah, sati, dowry, sindoor, and many other practices, basically to make a commodity or an inanimate object of a woman. She’s the most guarded, especially her sexuality, which if left unbridled or unchecked can cause the biggest shame to the family, even worse than her death. This idea will help us understand the honor killings that happen in most parts of the country even today. This brings us to the third point where we look at the codes or rules of behavior (unwritten, at least, today) for a woman. She (if she comes from a lower class that depends on the upper class for its sustenance) cannot afford to be alone in the presence of a man from another community or class (as happened in the Ahuja case) or be in a ‘compromising’ position with her lover (in the Surat case). In both cases, the woman invited it upon herself! And, this is not pronounced by some uneducated, fundamentalist fools (who we can ignore), but the guardians of the constitution! If this is what the police will say, what is point of a State? Or a law and order department? If women must take care themselves, which is, basically, shut themselves up in their homes, not study, learn household chores, have arranged, caste-, class-based married and of course get raped again (marital rape, I believe is still not recognized as rape) and be safe! Women needn’t be equal partners in nation building, in bringing the revolution, in making new discoveries, or (damn it!) in anything! Should all the women just disappear into thin air?

Now, the communal angle! In just hours after the incident, one of the right-wing parties in Surat called for a bandh! I mean what kind of an opportunism is this? The same state where 1000s of women were inhumanly raped, killed, and burnt, is calling for a bandh for the rape of one girl? How is this girl different from all the other victims? Is it because she's among the beautiful people of the society? The bourgeoisie or the uppercastes? Whereas, all the women ambushed in the riots were from ‘the other’ community or from working class backgrounds? After all, who is the society for? Can’t we have sanity even in the way we deal with crimes? Can’t we divorce ourselves from our hangups about class, caste, and gender at least while dealing with crime?

Dried, forgotten tears

Dying strains of sound buried in a mire of silence
Sounds of despair, of hope, of undead love
An unquestioned birth into mirth
Silent, muted voices of dissent
Consumed in consumerist rusting of soul
Rotting of mind,
Unshed tears of wordless, numbing pain

Retreating within a cocoon of notes, blinded by darkness
Borrowed lines of expression
Of intimate pain, of sorrow, of loneliness in a desert
Parched, dry wells of living water
Bounded in boundaries of love and lust
Putrefying of soul,
Unspoken words of violence, stinging consent

(Ps: Written while listening to Bheegi Bheegi from the Hindi film, Gangster)

The Holy War of Redemption

Will I hear the children again?
Oh mother land
You broke my home
My life, my name, my identity

Will I see the sea beyond the smoking corpses?
Oh neighbour
You drank my blood
My garden, my labour, my ethnicity, my liberty

Will I hear the birds sing beyond the hills?
Oh lover
You killed me in my sleep
My passion, my pain, my pleasure, my sweat

Will I see the rain again from my home?
Oh friend
You drew your dagger through my heart
My love, my friendship, my land, my roof

Will I taste the sweet springs in the jungles?
Oh soldier
You tasted my blood on your sword
My soul, my heart, my mind, my body

Sy(E)mpathy for a Stranger

Bejeweled, painted hands and feet
Reddened parting, not with powder
Your blood, it is sister
Right foot in, to be counted in with pickle bottles

A university degree, or a school-leaving certificate
Written off as unnecessary, with sandalwood paste
Your hands, will only chop and cook
According to the rule book

Rice and lap don’t mingle, just as evening and tea don’t
The unpolluted gods may be angry
Not at the community suckling of an old widow
But, at the love for thy neighbor

A hundred sons for you, O blessed one
An inside-out curse, I say
Keep your eyes closed, head turned sideways
Tears shed only at hurt pride, not at a bleeding neighbor

May you live a thousand years to see
With my eyes
May you walk away one day
With my feet

Dangerous shallow waters

Never fear the depth
Fear the shallow waters that appear deep
Deep only to the extent of the slush within
The deceptive muck

Fear the quiet demeanor of a smile
Couched in years of venom
The unmatched wisdom of chivalrous lies
Co-opting the blank, impressionable mind

Away, I tell you, run as fast as you can
From the soft grasp of empty sweet nothings
Values, traditions, duties, customs
The bog that buries dissent and humanity’s hope for tomorrow

Close not your eyes and ears
Simpletons may rule you in no time
Creating their make-believe houses of joy and empty pride
Telling you what is right and left

Swim against the tide to be alive
Than be a dead log and think
You are carrying the river
That consumes even your shattered corpse in holy tradition

Break or be broken down by vacuous, obscure pride
Solitude, small price in the face of definite
Human decay and a settled, seething cauldron
Of shallow waters that appear deep

Dream of a new world order
A world devoid of pretentions or wanton amusement
Savoring each day in the magic of music
In the stillness of waters that run deep