Tuesday, October 24, 2006

The Morning After (Diwali)


आग और राख में सिर्फ़ एक चिंगारी की फ़र्क होती है...

No, this isn't just a take on Saif's classic line in Omkara.

It's just a very basic look at what a spark can do.

Diwali came and went - like it does every year. In what can only be described as a miracle, a country where power shortages are commonplace, somehow found hidden reserves of energy to accomodate the millions of additional watts required to light up every God-fearing, neighbour-peering Hindu home's window and balcony (and, of course, all the rooms in case Santa Claus-like Goddess Lakshmi dropped in at night and couldn't see where to leave behind the wealth she was ordained to bring). Including the bathrooms, if you please.

Fireworks went off - like they do every year. Some people watched while others burnt cash; the more they burned, the happier they felt. Others jumped every time a cracker exploded (perhaps Diwali should be renamed 'Festival of Frights') and watched in awe as rockets lit up the October sky. The Goddess, evidently, isn't scared of all the explosions around Her.

There was, however, one difference: parents in their late 30s/early 40s were more keen to burst crakers than their children. Surprise, surprise! Here were eight-year olds educating their dads on pollution even as they had both ears plugged with little fingers hopelessly trying to drown out the cacophony of a thousand crackers going off. It does look like some institutions in Delhi like The Shri Ram School are winning the battle. Of course, there was also the wind that blew away pollution - or so said the weatherman.

But the fact is that a spark seems to have been lit. If these very children can continue resisting the temptation to out-burst their neighbours next year, we may see fewer sights like the one above of the morning after, outside a high-rise.

Until then, keep the faith. And don't let the flames of passion turn everything into ashes.

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Lagaan ver 2.0


The next time you visit Shah Jahan's monumental tribute to Mumtaz Mahal, look around at the angrez tourists before you start looking at the intricate details that took 22 years to complete.

Listen to the guide - Wahabuddin, who's been doing this for 30 years, if you can find him near the ticket counter, that is - and you'll hear a suppressed tone of anguish. The Taj Mahal, supposedly one of the wonders of the modern world, is probably the sole reason why Agra even exists today. And yet, it was almost auctioned off by the British during the regime of William Bentinck. No guide will tell you this - you have to read the inscription outside, installed by the Archaeological Survey of India. But what they will tell you is that "many British person come and loot the Taj". Now this is only partly true - so did our very own Jats and Marathas (again, courtesy the ASI). Apparently, what we see today is just a pale, white shadow of a resplendent monument whose riches were taken away.

That the Koh-i-noor diamond is in the crown of the English monarchy is a well-documented fact. But apparently, there are many more riches that were taken 'back home'. The Indian in us will be wrathful for a while but will forget about it until the next time we encounter history.

So, here's a thought: while we do charge foreign tourists and unfair and exorbitant amount to enter the Taj (of course they do get cloth covers for their shoes and a bottle of water, as value for money) are we missing an opportunity here, as someone (henceforth to be known by the name 'Hey!') pointed out?

Consider, for a moment, that instead of this discriminatory pricing - which, incidentally, prevails at most tourist attractions across the country for no documented, logical reason - suppose we charged British tourists nothing. Not one single penny. Instead, suppose we requested them to contribute to a 'Return our Riches' fund and sign an online petition that would pressurise the British Government to finally return all that they looted.

One option is to prevent them from even visiting such monuments until they return what belongs to us first. But that's not such a good thing from a diplomacy point of view, is it?

Will guilt work where half-hearted governments have failed? Kya bolta?