Oh My God

Last week, my sister, who lives in Calcutta, got stuck in a massive traffic jam on the way back from school. The reason she was stuck was that a bunch of people, who unlike my sister, never did go to school, were protesting against an article that The Statesman had reproduced from the UK's Independent. The protesters claimed that the article had insulted the Prophet.

Now, as you would know, this is somewhat of a recurring phenomenon. Every few days Muslims, Hindus, Christians, Sikhs or barbers pop up out of nowhere claiming that their sensibilities have been hurt. And, more often than not, our government either capitulates or the goons beat up everyone in sight so that there’s a de facto ban on whatever these chaps were protesting against.

Now, there are a number of reasons why this should not happen.

Firstly, we have the London bus argument: "There’s probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life". However, in all honesty, this is a futile argument not only in India but in almost all parts of the world including most of the western countries. Also, I am a bit sick of the Dawkins fanboys and their I’m-more-rational-than-99%-of-the-world expostulations.

Secondly, we have this: clock:time::religion:God.

A clock helps us to tell the time but a clock does not define time. So, if my clock is two hours slow or has stopped, it doesn’t mean that Time is two hours slow or has stopped. Time is impervious to the clock.

Similarly, at best religion can be way for us to understand God, but nothing that mortal men and women do on this Earth can ever affect God. A fair argument, if you ask me.

Therefore, it’s quite preposterous to think that an octogenarian (or is it nonagenarian?) painter can insult the very embodiment of Shakti or that a newspaper columnist can insult God’s chosen Prophet.

Incidentally, I’ve discussed this point on online forums (yes, I have too much time on my hands) and I’ve been met with one stock response: "Would you not feel hurt if somebody insulted your mother? It’s a similar case when our God is insulted."

Now, the thing is that, while my mum is somewhat of a remarkable woman (she can teach History to a bunch of unruly girls and make the best chaanp ever) she is hardly a god—in fact she’s, unfortunately, quite mortal. She is neither omniscient nor omnipotent and, in what is cinching proof of her imperfectness, she likes to listen to ABBA.

Hence, it’s not a similar case at all and if you do insult her I should and would feel a bit pissed.

Last and, well, least we have free speech. This has unfortunately taken such a beating in our country that I feel it futile to waste time writing about it.

Having enumerated (some of) the reasons as to why this stuff should not be done, it is instructive to try and understand why these things are done, nonetheless.

In one word, the reason is identity. Religion, in our part of the world, and, in fact, in most parts of the world, is an intrinsic part of our identity. It’s who you are. In effect, insulting symbols of your religion is taken, almost instinctively, as a personal insult.

So, when the chaps in Calcutta were ostensibly protesting against a columnist insulting the Prophet, what they were really protesting was a newspaper columnist insulting them.

In fact, a corollary of this would also explain the Ram Sena’s actions (as opposed to the more commonly held they-are-fags argument).The Ram Sena (and the other Senas) primarily consists of people who would charitably be called lumpen. Here Hindu culture, or their definition of it, gives them a lovely little make-believe world to hide in. A world in which they are actually better than the pub-hoping sahebzaadas zipping around in their fancy cars. That these people are largely Hindus in the first place matters little, because by the new terms of engagement, the Ram Sena chaps are the "better" or "truer" Hindus which makes them leapfrog in social status over the harlots who frequent bars and what not.

So, what do we do to remedy the situation? Well, quite frankly, I don’t know. Yes, we could make people richer; the whole cut-at-the-root-of-the-discontentment rigmarole—admittedly our best bet. But, sometimes, even that doesn’t help—the eagerness of the residents of Punjab to murder their own daughters is proof enough.

However, if you do think of something, scribble it onto a pink chaddi and send it to Muthalik. In the meanwhile, I suggest we follow Mark Twain’s advice:

"When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained."

--Shoaib Daniyal, OutlookIndia.com
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Love Mere Hit Hit

A catchy song from the recently released movie Billu. Deepika Padukone looks like a million bucks. Love her smile. SRK on the other hand looks quite sad serenading a woman half his age. He needs to reinvent himself, like now! The movie was nice, funny for the most part (watch out for that brilliant scene where the guesthouse manager is trying to remember his dialogues). A big applause for the Irfan Khan who delivers a heartbreaking performance as the poor barber whose life is turned upside down because of his famous friend. He silently suffers as his children, his wife and his entire village force him to get them a meeting with the star, and then turn against him when he is unable to. Watch him in the scene where he searches for his stuff in the trash after some angry villagers take down his shop. Here is an actor who doesn't need dialogues to communicate. A special mention for Lara Dutta, who looks gorgeous in the most simple of sareers and has matured tremendously as an actor. Great screen presence! The movie though, like most movies these days, ends up being a bit longer than necessary, especially the painfully long manipulative speech at the end by our man (watch out for the closeup of his hideously ugly stained teeth).

Anyways, drool... (don't forget to tun on high quality in the menu)

Cyclical upheavals, routine shock

Every few years, we have a downturn. This is not a very surprising thing to say for history has taught us that periods of prosperity are
interspersed with those of economic tightness. This means that ever so often, good times will give way to bad, economies that were booming will stagnate (Japan for the last 15 years), companies that were star performers will struggle (Sony) and countries that were superpowers will find themselves going through a rough patch (Russia after the end of the Cold War). Sometimes these changes in fortune will be of a longer duration and occasionally, we will see a change in the order of a more permanent kind.

Things move in cycles. This is a simple truth. Then why is it that we find ourselves in such a tizzy when we come across a routine, frequently recurring phenomenon? Why are we so unprepared both commercially and emotionally, to face the transient challenge of economic hardship? In India's case we are not shrinking, merely slowing down our rate of growth. But even if we were to talk about the developed world why do we find ourselves in such a state of desperation today? The idea of the market is that there will always be losers; the market celebrates the unequal nature of the world and sees it as the reason why individuals are driven to achievement.

For everyone who is buying when the price is low, someone is selling at the same price. Why do we celebrate the discriminatory nature of the market in good times and run to the referee the moment the market as a whole takes a dive. Isn't that too part of the market mechanism?

More importantly, we know this will pass. Just as we knew this would happen, but for a large part, chose to believe otherwise. Experts told us that the growth would be sustained for longer. The story seemed compelling then just as today the recession story seems equally inevitable. Of course, this had to happen; hindsight loves inevitability, just as foresight skirts around the cyclical nature of reality.

And yet, the story of humankind is nothing but a sustained battle against the stubborn inevitability of Nature. For nature imposes its bloody-minded gods on us that do not allow any event or phenomenon to continue unhindered. Night foils day, winter shrivels summer, good monsoons get rudely interrupted by droughts.

Civilizations flourish and tumble, species multiply and die, mountains become oceans and grasslands turn to sand. Which is why the idea of progress is based on pushing back the constraints imposed on us by nature. Culture seeks to harness biology as well as to thwart it. The manmade replaces the god-given as we set out to dismantle the power of natural phenomena, physical constraints and cyclical upheavals.

Technology has helped us erase the experience of most cycles. Electricity has turned night into day, air-conditioning has made summers quilt-friendly and cosmetics and medical science have postponed both death and age. Viagra has reduced the consequences of age while contraceptives have eliminated the tyranny of the fertility cycle. Menstruation continues its reign, albeit with a little less certitude and it is only a matter of time before this cycle too, is tamed.

The rebellion against cycles and the belief in an unbroken journey towards more reveals itself in other arenas of life too. Classical music, with its carefully extended rhythm and its spirally unfolding structure, works over too long a period of time to be popular. Cricket too leans towards the T20 format with its compression of ups-and-downs. In the West, most marriages do not survive the first emotional downturn that couples encounter and the quest for unbroken excitement creates a sweeping disregard for the psychic debris that is gathered in its wake.

So why should business be any different? Why should it not pretend that the market should perpetually rise and why should it not judge individual companies on a consistently upward performance every single quarter? Why prepare for bad times when you can sack thousands ever so often? Why not feed into the huge anxiety that such downturns generate and cadge a few billions from panicky governments?

The animal kingdom understands the rhythm of cycles and works to create a sustainable future for itself. Mating, breeding, feeding and migration occur cyclically and are all geared towards long-term survival. The male emperor penguin spends 115 days without a meal while incubating its offspring while its mate spends the winter at sea. It does not see deprivation and abundance as two separate phenomena but recognizes that they are part of a single process, something we seem curiously unable to do. We react to these two phases as if they are unrelated and need to be managed independently. We do not prepare in good times for bad and vice versa.

So right now we believe that we need to do something dramatic to get out of this cycle. It's almost as if we don't believe in the market any more. For India, the disconnect is even greater as we rush to embrace somebody else's reality as our own. Eventually things will get better. And then we will again forget that they will, very soon get worse again.

- Santosh Desai, TOI
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