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As far as SEWA is concerned, the fight for economic freedom has just begun
Once Ela Bhatt’s scooter was stopped abruptly at a traffic section by a constable, as was a push-cart being drawn by a husband and wife. While Bhatt managed to stop on time, for the husband and wife the maneuver proved tricky. They collided and fell, sustaining serious wounds. Bhatt, who volunteered to take them to a nearby health clinic, found that once stitched and bandaged, there was nothing more she could do for them. As migrant workers (two among the lakhs of citizens working in the unorganised labour sector), the husband and wife were not entitled to off-days, compensation, rest or recuperation like the rest of the world. It was not the first time that Bhatt was forced to confront this disparate mini-India of rightless human beings. Neither was it going to be the last. However, the incident did leave an indelible impression on her resolve to do something.
Thanks to an active family dedicated to socio-developmental causes, the incident moved Bhatt. Her father had quit a perfectly sound medical practice to join the Freedom Struggle, while her mother was also active in Gandhi’s struggle. Thus, it is no surprise that Bhatt herself attached a deep meaning to the words freedom and dignity. “The times that we grew up in, azaadi (freedom) was the keyword. It was there on the streets, in private spaces, in India’s hearts. However, our version of azaadi was not a narrow vision, but a wholistic one which encompassed the economical, social and political. As Gandhiji made it clear through his khadi movement, political freedom was just a shadow of economic freedom,” asserts Bhatt. Despite her sensitivity to people’s plights, the time to do ‘something’ arrived late in her life—later than she thought. Bhatt went on to receive a Bachelor’s of Arts degree and a gold medal in law. For a bit, she taught at SNDT, Mumbai, till the turning point— working for the legal department of the Textile Labour Association (TLA) in Ahmedabad. During the push-cart incident, Bhatt was still with the TLA. The incident made her to think—could she do something? She believed she could. And in 1972, the Self Employed Women’s Association (SEWA) was born as an off-shoot to the TLA. Simply put, SEWA was an organisation for and of self-employed women workers, who earned a living through their own labour and/or small businesses. SEWA began with a premise—when their work or labour remains invisible, the workers themselves are rendered invisible. Till today, Bhatt draws inspiration from India’s Freedom Struggle. SEWA is tied to four Gandhian pillars; satya (truth), ahimsa (non-violence), sarvadharma (integrating all faiths, people) and khadi (propagation of local employment and self-reliance). The group’s goal is to organise women for full employment—with work, income, food and social securities (think health care, child care and shelter). SEWA organises women to ensure that every family obtains ‘full employment’. “By self-reliance we mean that women should be self-reliant; individually and collectively,” explains Bhatt. Thus, SEWA organises workers to achieve their goals of full employment and self-reliance through twin strategies—struggle (against the constraints and limitations imposed upon them by the society) and development (activities meant to strengthen women’s bargaining power and offer them new alternatives). The organisation is thereby divided into unions and cooperatives and they work in tandem. Describing SEWA is tricky—it is both an organisation and a movement. It is a movement because it combines labour, cooperative and women’s rights causes. It is also a movement of self-employed workers with women as its leaders. With globalisation, liberalisation and economic changes, there are newer opportunities and threats to traditional areas of employment. “I do not believe that globalisation is a threat. Our members are ready to face the challenges. And globalisation and capitalism, if these terms are responsible, constrained, then it results in a bigger market. “They know that they must organise to build their own strength and to meet challenges. There are still millions of women who remain in poverty, despite long hours of hard labour. They must be brought into the mainstream, so as to avail of the opportunities that are developing with regard to jobs. Also there is much to be done in terms of strengthening women’s leadership and bargaining power within and outside their homes and their representation in policy-making,” she says. It is to this end of highlighting women’s issues, priorities and needs that SEWA has been working. It has been supporting its members in capacity-builiding and in developing their own economic organisations. And they are quite the success story. So, it is no surprise that today World Bank wishes to replicate the SEWA model, especial its bank model, in some of the lesser developed parts of the world. As far as Bhatt is concerned, her work is only just beginning.
THE UNITED NATIONS is celebrating 2012 as the International Year of Co-operatives with the slogan: “Co-operative enterprises build a better world”. With an environment abuzz with discussions on the need to address the livelihood needs of India’s vast population, the UN’s decision serves as a reminder of an important strand of the democratic tradition. Within India, with its eponymous ‘demographic dividend’ (the fact that the country’s majority are below the age of 30) and accelerated migratory patterns, it is now recognised that the size of a country’s workforce will need to be absorbed in gainful employment in sustainable ways. In the context in which discussions about creating sustainable livelihoods are flying fast and furious, the experience of co-operatives can provide some insights. Over the past decade, the response of policy-makers to livelihood challenges has been to unleash a series of schemes that seek to ‘organise’ what is still the country’s largely unorganised workforce. The Mahatma National Rural Employment Guarantee (MNREGA) and the National Rural Livelihood Mission (NRLM) are but two of the manifestations. The Bharat Rural Livelihoods Foundation—announced by Pranab Mukherjee during Budget 2012—is the latest arrival. Far away from the Delhi corridors, a number of entrepreneurs are attempting to develop newer models of manpower training, recognising the potential for growth in the workforce management sector. Now it is a good time to restate that perhaps the most successful experiment in livelihood creation has been the dairy co-operative movement, which has come to be associated with the brand AMUL (an acronym for Anand Milk Union Limited). This is relevant in view of the UN’s ongoing celebration of cooperatives, which affirms the principle that the powers of democratic decision-making, collectivisation and resource aggregation can provide livelihoods and social security for marginalised people. This UN recognition also underscores the pertinence of a political metaphor: in the same way that a democratic polity attempts to address the aspirations of a large group of citizens by aggregating their views through the electoral process, co-operatives seek to bring the powers of aggregation among producers to the marketplace. At the core of the co-operative organisational form are two fundamental principles—the sovereignty of labour (which is at the heart of the organisation’s management culture) and democratic values (integral to the decision-making processes). Question is: do these types of organisations work in today’s cutthroat environment? Historically, cooperatives have been successful, especially in the agricultural sector. Fonterra Co-operative Group, which began in 1956, is New Zealand’s single- largest company. It is organised as a producer-owned co-operative by 10,500 farmers. The firm is responsible for 30 per cent of the world’s dairy exports with a revenue exceeding NZ$19.87 billion. The US-based co-operative Land O’Lakes Inc., started in 1921, serves over 300,000 producers and has a footprint in 50 countries. In the non-agricultural sector, Mondragon Corporation, located in the Basque country, is rooted in the co-operative tradition. It is the seventh-largest company in Spain with a history that began in the 1950s. It has a sectoral spread that covers industry, finance, retail and the knowledge economy. Within India AMUL has served as the flag-bearer for co-operative values. It has an inspiring record going back over half-a-century. Despite swirls of political and economic pressures, especially in the 1990s, the AMUL movement has worked hard to remain grounded. This is also true of the SEWA Bank set up in 1976. Despite the sense of doom characterising the microfinance sector, SEWA Bank has remained unscathed with a business of Rs 175 crore and 87,000 members. The success of such enterprises was probably the reason as to why in 2002, the Centre adopted the Companies (Amendment) Act 2002, commonly described as the Producer’s Company Act. At the core of the design of a producer company is the co-operative principle that members have to be primary producers. The Act draws from the international experience of “new generation co-operatives”, of which a great deal has been written of especially by the likes of International Co-operative Alliance. At the heart of this legislation is an attempt to create livelihoods for India’s burgeoning workforce through an organisational model that attempts to leverage the efficiencies of the 21st Century capitalism without diluting the community-based orientation of co-operatives. Today, India’s economic landscape is dotted with entrepreneurial ventures seeking scale through producer company model. Among the better known ones are Fabindia and DCM Hariyali. Many more are in the pipeline. It is fair to say that even as the Centre continues to unleash new centrally-and state-sponsored schemes on India’s largely youthful population, these will all be tested. It is gratifying that the UN has placed its belief in the co-operative tradition. It will help recognise the fact that solutions to bigger problems are often found locally and are best managed through appropriate deliberative processes and organisational forms. Sources of livelihood come in all shapes, from governmentsponsored schemes (MNREGA and NRLM), to seasonal employment, to social enterprise. In this mix of good and not-so-good options, it would be useful to remember that the values and processes championed by (producer and consumer) co-operatives continue to exercise influence and have the potential in mitigating economic hardship. The extraordinary story of India’s dairy co-operatives (which made India the world’s leading producer of milk) as well as the plethora of experiments in cooperation mushrooming around the country should serve to reinforce this belief as we look to the future.
SIMILES A page out of the life of humour poet, satirist and author, Ashok Chakradhar and what makes him laughThis, as my mother said, was the first poem I recited. She tells me that I started talking in riddles and rhymes when I was a toddler. It would not be erroneous to assume that even as a kid, I wanted to be a poet. I was deeply influenced by my father who was one. People tell me that I was precocious—I do not need them to remind me of that. I recall jumping onto the stage to start recitals at the drop of a hat at most family events. Having said that, I never pursued poetry. It was more of a dream which developed while I grew up surrounded by poets. My parents, like any others, wished to see me as a successful engineer or doctor. On my father’s behest, I sought admission into the BSc programme. I did not have an aptitude for either mathematics or science. I knew that I would fail, sooner than later. To save myself the humiliation, I decided to skip tests. There was a water tank near my place. I sat in it for nearly 20 hours, hoping to catch a cold. I fell ill! I sent a victorious telegram to my father informing him of my condition. By the time he arrived, I was bedridden. I not only managed to skip tests, but got to take the year off. The next academic season, when my father mentioned re-admission, I implored him to let me do a BA instead. To my utter surprise, he agreed. Which is how my journey with literature began. As a science student, I was mediocre. In my BA programme, I began topping the class. I did a Master’s and a PhD in Hindi literature to finally take up teaching at Delhi University. That was then— today I am told that there are six to seven PhD dissertations based on my work. Before we jump ahead, let us get back to my so-called glory days— 1970s. Those were exciting times to be a struggling writer. I had moved to New Delhi in 1972 to get my work published. Like several others of my ilk, I began with children’s fiction. The first children’s short story to get published was called Heeron Ki Chori. My next offering was a long poem based on a medieval manuscript. It was called Suno Kahani Krishna Ki. However, it was not my longer works getting recognised—my short stories were. The breakthrough came with my first, full-fledged book of literary criticism of Gajanan Madhav Muktibodh’s work—Muktibodh Ki Kavya Prakriya. The book received tremendous response—at least I believed it did—and it gave me a “Writer of the Year Award” an encouraging pat on the back for an upcoming writer. A lot of time has passed since then and like every other thing, literature, too, has changed its course. Personally, it seems that literature has become more raw, pedestrian and realistic. I realise that a lot of purists do not approve of this change—what do they know? People who speak of the golden times are holding on to a mirage. They argue that literature has become ‘impure’ because it speaks in mixed tongues. My message to these ‘guardians of purity’ is that, it does not matter if the written word is a hybrid. What really counts is the motive behind a tale. And as Ludwig Wittgenstein had said, “A new word is like a fresh seed sown on the ground of a discussion.” We need fresh seeds to be sown, we need newer forms of writing and novel dialogues to begin with—that is the only way for literature to evolve. Having said that, if there is impurity in the hearts of writers, then their language, words and expressions become inconsequential. One must want (sincerely with his or her’s mind body and soul) to be a writer. No one becomes a writer just by aspiring to be one. Unfortunately, the art of writing can not be taught. I consider myself fortunate. Fate, circumstances and persistence has allowed me to get to the place I am today. And in this journey I have been touched and inspired by many. My father-in-law Shri Kaka Hathrasi was one of India’s greatest humorist poets. His life’s aim was to put a smile on people’s face. Though no more, Kaka Hathrasi’s poems linger in our collective minds. The purpose behind my writing is different—my poems may seem funny, but I intend to leave my readers with a sense of reality and, dare I say, sadness. The three people who inspired me the most were my father, Gajanan Madhav Mukhtibodh and Charlie Chaplin. I cannot get enough of Chaplin’s satirical eye of the world. He especially manifested it in the Great Dictator. I admire the way he used humour as a tool to narrate some of the most heart-rending incidents of the human history. That is the power of words—wars can be fought and won through them.
When she was six, one day I overheard my daughter boasting that, “Had my father been a cobbler, he would have made the world’s best shoes.” Who knows, had I not been a poet, I would have probably been a cobbler—as my daughter pointed out. No matter what, I would have put my whole heart in it.
The hope for BRICS arises from the sheer economic size of the five countries. “Together, BRICS account for more than 40 per cent of the global population, nearly 30 per cent of its landmass and a share in world GDP that increased from 16 per cent in 2000 to nearly 25 per cent in 2010. It is expected to rise significantly in the near future,” reads The BRICS Report, published recently. Naturally, there was significant expectation surrounding the BRICS Summit which was held in New Delhi recently. BRICS proponents hailed the “Delhi Declaration” issued after the meet as the manifesto of “most comprehensive criticism of the failures of the West that has been voiced by any group of countries since the end of the Cold War”. They say it has come out with an alternative world view and offers stinging criticism of the established world order, and its institutions. They argue that it offers an outline of an alternative blueprint for the new emerging world. The Delhi Declaration calls for an end to violence in Syria. It calls for dialogues to bring normality. Similarly, the group suggests resorting to political and diplomatic means to resolve the issues in Iran rather than war, as some “western” countries and allies are calling for. The meeting also agreed to examine the feasibility and viability of setting up a new “Development Bank” for mobilising resources for infrastructure and sustainable development projects in BRICS and other emerging economies and developing countries. The nascent organisation also expressed its commitment to support Afghanistan in eradicating terrorism and extremism, and underscored the need for more effective regional and international co-operation for the stabilisation of the country. However such overt united intent to address the world issues, hides latent contradictions within the BRICS group. According to critics, these “subaltern nations” do not have the cohesion or a united world view to represent a new order. They also point out to how the economic and geo-political interests of the bull in the BRICS shop (China) will come in the way of BRICS emerging as a cohesive and united international front. The argument states that China is not enthusiastic enough on an alternative international order. Rather it is keen to perpetuate the status quo in the institutions, so that it gets to deny India’s entry into the United Nations as a permanent member. Opinions surrounding democracy also divides the group. There are fingers being pointed at China and Russia’s notion of democracy. How can BRICS reconcile with such an in-built contradiction? Critics also pointed out to the political differences and disputes between New Delhi and Beijing as a stumbling block. These inherent contradictions and lack of trust has proved to be an impediment in the way of the “BRICS Bank”; an idea that was first proposed in the Yekaterinberg Summit held in Russia in 2009. The summit also lead to the criticism that Russia was hoping to promote Renminbi— its currency—at the international level through BRICS. To know both sides of the argument, DW spoke to two leading voices—Oliver Stuenkel, Professor, International Relations Coordinator, School of History and Social Sciences at São Paulo. And Dr Harsh V. Pant, Reader in International Relations, Department of Defence Studies, Kings College London.
OLIVER STUENKEL// The recent BRICS Summit in New Delhi, India, has shown that BRICS nations are committed to building stronger ties, principally in the economic sectors. However, the consensus is not only at an economic level. The nations have also found common denominators on political issues. I would rate this year’s summit as a positive one which covered a gamut of issues. I believe co-operation and consultation between the BRICS members is taking place at a broader level now. Do not make any mistake. The “Delhi Declaration” is not a “manifesto of dissent” against the West. The BRICS nations do not seek to undermine the nature of the western world order. After all, they have been the greatest beneficiaries of it. Rather, the declaration shows that global structures need to be modified to reflect the shift of power. And that the BRICS nations symbolise this shift of power away from the United States and Europe towards the “developing nations”. In this sense, they pose a challenge to some nations. Internally, BRICS nations continue to differ on several issues themselves, which need to be resolved so that the world does not move from one version of hegemony to a BRICS’ version of it. Rather, we should be moving towards a multi-polar world in which several powerful actors—both western and non-western—work out strategies together to deal with the most pressing challenges such as climate change and financial volatility. I am aware that critics have been referring to BRICS as “an artificial bloc built on a catchphrase”. However, two things need to be considered before we examine the context. It is true that the BRICS nations differ on a handful of issues. It will be a great challenge for them to find a middle-ground together. This has partly to do with the fact that while India, Brazil and South Africa seek to obtain more decision-making power in today’s institutions, China and Russia are relatively established. This becomes obvious while looking at the debate surrounding the UN Security Council reforms: China continues to oppose India’s inclusion. This shows that China’s national interest continues to matter more than the collective whole. Another problem lies in the composition of BRICS—despite being a group of rising economies, it remains contradictary. There is a deep-seated dissent among member countries India and China. Though the tension is an obstacle, but that is the very reason why the nations need to have more discussions. It is only through strengthening trade ties, co-operating over political issues and conducting multi-level interactions that we can reduce the risk of conflict. While seeking to find common positions on security matters, China and India are in constant conflict. The two are yet to solve the border conflict. India’s political and economical ambitions pose difficulties for China’s regional ambitions. The two countries have to find ways to improve relations. But instead of taking it as a reason for BRICS not to exist, I see it as a vindication of why it should. As an expert on international relations, I see the emergence of the BRICS to be relevant to the present global order. The rise of BRICS will impact the future of global order. The member nations' attempts to find a common voice is also an attempt to turn into a global agenda-setter. The BRICS no longer seek to merely participate in debates, they seek to define the topics. China is by far the most important country within the member nations. I take hope in the fact that in the recently-held New Delhi Summit, China showed its inclination to engage the members, particularly India. Rather than dominating, China seems to be getting comfortable being seen as a part of a group of emerging powers. The BRICS Bank project is still in its infancy. Several details need resolution. There is clearly a trend towards stronger economic and financial co-operation between the BRICS countries. For example, China will begin to provide Yuan denominated loans to member countries. The BRICS Stock Exchange will be created. A BRICS Bank would be an important step towards institutionalising ties. Given the compositions of the group, it is not a surprise that the member nations within the BRICS do not agree on several important issues; but there are disagreements between NATO nations or when the G7 Summits are carried on. Germany abstained from the Libya Resolution, while several other nations supported it. Even EU member-countries are often unable to reach a consensus. That does not make such groups self-defeating. Why should we attach too much negativity to the internal divisions within the BRICS over geopolitical questions. It does not reduce the group's potential.
HARSH V. PANT// The recently-held BRICS Summit followed its earlier tradition and tried to focus on establishing the group’s credentials as a credible global actor. However, nothing substantive evolved. This year, a proposal to create a joint development bank, which could finance investments in developing nations, was mooted. On their part, BRICS nations have signalled their commitment to becoming a potential counterweight to other multilateral lenders such as the World Bank and the Asian Development Bank. But China’s clout in the proposed venture, and the unease of the other four member-states regarding China’s role, will prevent any concretisation of the plan. On one hand global economic order remains well within western control, while on the other hand the BRICS together are significantly in-charge of the global economic trajectory. So it is natural that the BRICS leadership wishes to change this dichotomy. They are seeking to convert their economic might into a collective diplomatic clout. As for the cry of power through the Delhi Declaration. Do I believe that the declaration is a manifesto of dissent against the west or the beginning of a new Cold War— well, not really. At best the declaration can be viewed as a dissenting note against a type of global economic clout. Everything said and done, the five member nations remain keen on maintaining their ties with the US. However, with the Obama Administration perpetually preoccupied with its internal troubles, and the European Project unravelling, the times as they are, present an ideal opportunity for the new powers to emerge as global players. Whether the five will be able to achieve anything substantial, despite substantial conflicting interests, only time will tell. There are problems galore within BRICS. One problem lies in the significant bilateral differences among the nations. Take Brazil for instance. It is worried about the influx of Chinese investment and cheap imports, and has been vocal in criticising China for its undervalued Yuan. It is also wary of China’s growing economic profile in South America—a region that Brazil has come to consider its own. China’s currency manipulation has led to problems for the manufacturing sectors of other emerging powers. India, Brazil and South Africa have expressed their disenchantment with Beijing’s economic policies. Chinese exports have decimated a number of industries in Brazil, South Africa and India. New Delhi even imposed anti-dumping duties on a range of Chinese goods. China’s dominance of the intra-south trade remains overwhelming with other emerging powers struggling to get a share. Problem number two: though Russia and China remain united in their aversion to the US-led global political order, and though co-ordination continues in scuttling western policies (take Iran and Syria for instance), it remains a partnership of convenience. Deep down, Russia is worried about its growing economic disparity with China. The nation is also concerned by its failure to develop the Far East, a failure that has allowed China to get a toe-hold in this strategic region. It has also pushed Beijing into the driver’s seat in defining the Asian security landscape. Russia’s finance minister Aleksei Kudrin has openly warned that if Russia fails to become a “worthy economic partner” for Asia and Pacific Rim, “China… will steamroll Siberia and the Far East.” Even though China is the largest buyer of Russian conventional weaponry, many see this as counterproductive because China might emerge as the greatest potential security threat to Russia—worse than the US. Closer home, the saga of the decline in Sino-Indian ties is well-known. Despite the two sides deciding to resume defence ties during the Prime Minister’s trip to China, New Delhi remains sceptical. China’s refusal to acknowledge India’s rise, and its apparent lack of sensitivity on core security interests, are leading to pushbacks with the Prime Minister himself acknowledging that “China would like to have a foothold in South Asia and we have to reflect on this reality. It is important to be prepared.” Granted power politics is a murky business. For all the bonhomie exhibited at the annual summit, there are marked differences between most of the five states. There is the structural disparity between China and the rest—China’s rise has been fast and spectacular and its dominance makes the idea of a co-ordinated BRICS something of a non-starter. At the Delhi summit, the five nations agreed to work towards creating a “development bank” on the lines of the World Bank to mobilise “resources for infrastructure and sustainable development projects in BRICS and other emerging economies” and directed their finance ministers to “set up a joint working group for further study and report”. It is difficult to be optimistic about the project as long as the four states remain concerned about China’s clout. India, for example, might be interested in using this project to get capital, but would be wary of seeing the Chinese Renminbi emerging as a global alternative to the US dollar. Also the economic situation in BRICS states is at a crossroads. China’s economy is facing challenges and it is not evident if its political leadership will be able to handle the challenges effectively. The growth rate estimates for all BRICS have been declining. India has already been described as the “most-disappointing” of the nations. It was never obvious why South Africa was added to the group apart from the fact that China wanted South Africa in as it views it as an access point for Africa. Not only is South Africa’s economy much smaller than the others, South Africa’s influence on the rest of Africa remains tenuous. Brazil, South Africa and India are democracies. Values do play a role in nation’s foreign policies. It may be a limited one, but it is important. Given the leverage that China enjoys in BRICS, it should not come as a surprise that Beijing has suggested that IBSA, a grouping of democracies, be shut down in favour of BRICS. I agree with Professor Stuenkel only so far as BRICS together now constitute the strongest aspect of the global economic order. But the grouping remains an artificial construct, nothing more than an acronym coined by an economist at Goldman Sachs, Jim O’Neill. There is not enough complementarity of interests among the stakeholders to make it sustainable. For BRICS to be a NATO or even a G-7, there has to be some semblance of a convergence in so far as the vital interests of BRICS members is concerned. At the moment, they are conflictual apart from their opposition to the west-led economic order. NATO is an alliance that was created when the West faced a common adversary in the form of former Soviet Union. In cases of India, Russia, Brazil and South Africa— China might soon turn out to be their biggest problem, if it is not so already.
Prime Minister Manmohan Singh’s Pakistan dilemmaAFTER PRESIDENT Asif Ali Zardari’s Easter Sunday visit to New Delhi and Ajmer, there is an undeniable sentiment in the government and in strategic circles in the capital that Prime Minister Manmohan Singh’s trip to Pakistan is only a matter of time. As some have pointed out, should Singh complete 10 years in office in 2014 and still not have set foot on Pakistan, it would appear odd if not downright churlish. Pakistan would be about the only major country—from India’s point of view—Singh would not have travelled to. From a broader perspective, that is a persuasive argument. The question is: when is the appropriate time? Pakistan sees national elections in February 2013 and the contours of the government and arrangement in Islamabad after that are unclear. A visit in the second half of 2013, once the dust settles in Pakistan and a new government (or even a re-elected government) has consolidated itself is a possibility. Yet that is too far away and too difficult to predict. As such, there are some who feel September-October 2012 represents the last potential window for Singh to go to Islamabad and to his native village of Gah in Punjab’s Chakwal district. No doubt this will be a personally and emotionally captivating journey. But how much diplomatic and political content will it have? Singh is a sober realist and has said he would be happy to make a “substantive” visit to Pakistan, one that had “solid” outcomes. What are the benchmarks for such a substantive visit? This is both a general query as well as one raised in the particular context of 2012, and given the political capital Singh has left in the second half of his second term. The three main geo-political disputes between the South Asian neighbours are the status of Jammu and Kashmir— more narrowly the Kashmir region of the former kingdom of Hari Singh—the Siachen Glacier and the Sir Creek waterway in the marshlands of the Rann of Kutch (in Gujarat). A settlement of the Kashmir dispute was considered a possibility in the 2004-2006 period, when Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee and then Prime Minister Manmohan Singh engaged in serious conversations with former Pakistan President Pervez Musharraf. Those conversations were predicated on the assumption that Musharraf was keen on de-radicalising Pakistani society, acting on sources of terrorism and had come to realise a compromise on Kashmir, roughly along the Line of Control but with a soft border and inter-Kashmir commerce, was the only feasible option. A strong American presence and engagement in the region was also expected to act as a mutual guarantor of good behaviour. When Musharraf began to face domestic challenges, the prospect of a Kashmir settlement receded dramatically. His successors have denied all knowledge of formulations he had agreed to. General A.P. Kayani started, as every new Pakistani state actor does, with the contention that all of Kashmir could be won. And things were back to square one. Today, President Zardari sees merit in settling the dispute but perhaps the best he can do is advocate bypassing or deferring it. Siachen is even more of a nonstarter. The Indian army is well entrenched in Siachen. It enjoys a strategic and altitudinal advantage and has hardly lost men there in eight years. It sees any talk of “demilitarisation” as surrendering hard-won gains. Of course the political executive can overrule it, especially if there is a larger bargain to be made. Nevertheless, given the testy relationship between General V.K. Singh and the government and the overall atmosphere of distrust between generals and the Ministry of Defence, will Manmohan Singh risk being accused of bullying an unwilling army to vacate Siachen? It would be a politically suicidal move. Move now to Sir Creek, the narrow strip of water at the edge of the Arabian Sea and the traditional divide between Kutch (Gujarat) and Sindh. This may seem the easiest dispute to settle but has actually proved extremely taxing. Agreeing to a boundary in the Creek has implications for the boundary in the sea. A small change in the Creek can mean a much wider change in the sea. The international maritime boundary, in turn, would define the economic zone of either country. The Rann of Kutch region is rich in hydrocarbons. That has been known for a long time. India’s oil fields in Barmer (Rajasthan) are in a geologically related area and Pakistan’s gas fields are barely 20 to 30 km from Sir Creek. The potential game-changer has been the emergence of new fracking (hydraulic fracturing) technology in the past decade that has allowed for the exploitation of shale gas and oil deposits in sedimentary rocks. The shale revolution has transformed the energy scenario in the United States. It has also made shale deposits in the Sir Creek neighbourhood far more accessible and valuable than ever before. Many of the postulates that influenced India’s Sir Creek negotiators say that the 1990s may no more be relevant. Energy security concerns could advocate going slow on any Sir Creek agreement until India is certain of what lies beneath and what it is worth. Gujarat sees Assembly elections in November-December 2012, just about two months after the dates being mentioned for Prime Minister Manmohan Singh’s trip across the Wagah Border to the neighbouring country. The Congress would obviously not want any Sir Creek controversy to become an election issue and give the BJP a talking point. In any case, in a replay of the (West Bengal-Bangladesh) Teesta Episode, the state government of Gujarat has to be on board. Chief Minister Narendra Modi has already raised the issue of exploring hydrocarbons in the Sir Creek region. The upshot of all this is that a ‘substantive’ agenda for a prime ministerial visit to Pakistan is unlikely. Unless minor (but symbolically important) advance in trade is repackaged as a historic move forward Singh may not easily find the excuse for a summit in Islamabad. While there is a near consensus in India that a conventional war with Pakistan is not practicable and not desirable, there is no unanimity on the big agreements that should be reached and when. This constricted domestic-political space will limit what Singh can do on his arrival in Pakistan, should he choose to go this year.
Be smart and use social media to change the way your business worksStrategy and basic business logic suggests that a business should either partner with supporting organisations or outsource operations which are not part of its core business solution, service or offering. Outsourcing is a key business decision— one that requires strategic thought as it affects business growth directly. As a practice, marketing has evolved in the past few years. The evolution has impacted decision-making in business in more ways than one as more and more of them are experimenting with new methods of outreach and engagement. Today, businesses have realised that their audience have to be engaged in a meaningful and engaging communication driven by a proposition. As social media gets more and more recognised as a format of outreach and engagement with clients and customers, and as an object of business value, firms will be seen increasingly adopting the method. Today, a decision before every firm is whether it will outsource their social media management or keep it in-house. There are several schools of thought on this matter. Let us explore this dilemma with some self-assessing, quick-help kits. The first question that a business firm needs to ask is; what stage is its business in? If you are a start-up or a less-than-five member company and assuming that you are not greatly funded, there is no choice but to learn the few relevant tricks yourself. For a small firm, knowing the customer is critical. Honestly, to leverage social media the right way, knowing the audience is crucial. If you are a start-up, ensure that you understand your customer closely. Create a relationship in the real (off-line) world and then keep them engaged online. For businesses that have achieved a certain scale, it is crucial to not go haywire. If your founding team knows the way online, great! Else outsourcing the social media management to a “partner” agency will save the firm frustration. This will allow the firm time to focus on what it is in for. For larger companies, its crucial to map relevant business objectives with what can be achieved on social media and assess risks and rewards. One of the best ways to exercise this is to get a full-time, hands-on business consultant on board, someone who has been in the industry and both on the agency and client ends. Also it would help if the personnel has the experience of working across sectors. Such a person will help a firm establish the right assessments and in training existing in-house teams (e.g.: marketing, human resource) or create a focused team, helping you to reduce wastage. The second question that needs to be raised is regarding business objectives; ent acquisition to reducing time to market. If you have your objectives clearly prioritised, you could always take help from experts in creating a working social media structure for your company, i.e. if you are small. For set-ups that are at a growth stage and for larger firms, hiring a consultant will be the optimum solution. It will help maintain costs and reach an optimum solution easily. The other question that needs to be raised is—do you have your processes mapped right? Most smaller companies miss that. Setting well-defined processes right from the start is a tough task. With large companies though, this is far more structured. To ensure a successful social media implementation, businesses must have their KPIs right. The key process indicators go a long way in establishing the success of any social media campaign. Far too much is said about the media bit. Social media is more ‘social’ than the media bit. The ‘engagement’ aspect of social media should really be initiated, built and scaled up, in-house. You can always choose to outsource the technical and recurring aspects to strategic partners. The optimum solution is to have a co-existing model, wherein the firm strategically keeps the crucial customers engaged, also the messaging and communication bit in-house, while parts of the execution—design, buying media etc.— could be outsourced to a partner agency. however, how do you decide what to outsource and what capabilities to build in-house? Based upon experience and working across industries and several international and domestic clients, personally I believe that the capabilities which a business should focus on building in-house are: integrating a strong social media policy across business processes, analytics and statistics, customer service reputation, management and monitoring content creation, messaging and communication.
Invocation—Amma & Son“Birju, Birju beta…”—Amma, the graceful, benign, self-effacing and compassionate idol—74-year-old Pandit Birju Maharaj is lost in reverie as he reverts to his nine-year-old self, thinking about his mother. Each of the dance doyen's statements are interspersed with mentions of his mother, an indication of the strong bond that the two shared. Born in 1938, as Dukhharan Nath Mishra (his mother believed he would wipe off people’s woes), Birju Maharaj is the son of legendary Kathak dancer Achchan Maharaj. Later, he was renamed Brij Mohan, after Lord Krishna surrounded as he was by a bevy of female cousins. Birju bhaiyya was everyone's favourite too. But by the time Birju was born into the illustrious family of Maharajs— the famous Kathak dancers of Kalka-Bindadin Gharana of Lucknow, the family coffers were empty. Birju was bred on his mother’s tales of riches, once held in those large, empty chests strewn around his ancestral home. When Birju was just a baby, Achchan Maharaj was a teacher at Sangeet Bharati in Delhi. On January 30, 1948, Mahatma Gandhi was assassinated. The nation plunged into darkness and turmoil. “The country was assailed by Hindu- Muslim riots and people were fleeing from Delhi fearing for their lives,” says the guru, whose repertoire includes performances on brotherhood. Birju Maharaj and his family, too, joined the fleeing crowds. “There was a thick envelop of palpable fear. The tongas on the roads moved slowly, only one or two dhibris (lamps) lighting the way. We could hear our hearts beating in the heavy silence when we passed the Lal Quila (Red Fort). It was now a question of survival, of running from Delhi to save lives,” recalls Maharaj. Soon after, the nation also lost Achchan Maharaj, and a young Birju was left to fend for himself and his mother. A nine-and-a-half year old Birju had by then learnt all the gur (expertise) that his father had in Kathak and music, thanks to a persistent mother who would prod a reluctant Achchan Maharaj to take his son on his sojourns to mehfils where he was performing. Unwillingly, Achchan would comply, warning his wife that Birju would trouble him for balloons and what not. What followed were years of struggle in Lucknow and Kanpur. Birju managed to study till Class VI, at the same time eking out a living for his mother and himself through dance performances. Recalling those days Birju Maharaj says: “Though just a child, I wanted to console my mother. I would tell her: ‘Do not worry Amma. Just bless me and I will keep practicing whatever I have learnt from Babu (father).’” Birju was somehow confident that he could do that. For once, Maharaj had overheard his father tell Amma, “‘I have passed on all my skills to Birju. It is upto him how to utilise them’,”Maharaj recalls, adding, “Babu had assured Amma that when I grow up, I would do well.” His uncle Lachchu Maharaj was in Mumbai, busy with films. And though Shambhu Maharaj (my uncle) was in Lucknow, he was busy too. “I was my mother’s only crutch. And she was my support. Whenever I saw her in tears it was heart rending. I felt so helpless that I was just a child and had no formal training.” And yet, Birju bravely tried to wipe his mother’s tears. If his mother had not tried so hard to ensure that Birju carried on the family tradition, perhaps Birju Maharaj would have been a mechanic! “I had a passion for cars and would often tell mother that if nothing came off my dancing, I would become a mechanic and work in a garage.” But the courageous mother persisted, sending her young boy near and far to dance. “From Bareilly to Nepal, she did not hesitate to send me anywhere.” He remembers one wedding in the royal family of Nepal. Some 22 famous Indian dancers were invited, including Kishan Maharaj and Boodhaiya Maharaj. Birju’s mother told him that he must grab this opportunity to showcase his talent. She persisted that Birju accompany his relatives (the dancers). “She requested the troupe to take me along hoping that if the king was pleased he would grant us some money,” recalls Birju Maharaj. Even a small sum of `50 which was a huge amount those days. “It meant that Amma could run her household for a few days. Imagine how poor we had become! From owning naulakha haars (nine-lakh chains), trunks full of expensive saris, chadars and shawls received from our patrons, kings and nawabs to empty stories of broken wooden chests and vanished riches—it was an arduous, sad journey indeed.” Amma worried about her son’s future incessantly. “We were now paupers, pawning household goods. We would burn my mother’s Banarsi saris to melt the gold and silver zaris and sell them. That provided our ration for a few days.” Yet, through these hard years, young Birju had a clear goal—to continue his struggle and become famous like his father.
Birju definitely had something extraordinary in him. His first memorable performance was at the age of seven with his father at the court of Nawab of Rampur. “There were no prosceniums or wooden stages. We performed at mehfils or informal gatherings,” says Birju Maharaj. The Nawab appreciated little Birju’s performance so much that he fixed a monthly stipend of `21 for him. But Birju Maharaj waves aside all credit for his achievements. He believes that it was his mother’s and gurus’ blessings that have led him this far. Dismissing his struggles, he says, “I took dance tuitions and gave small performances here and there. But God was benign. My struggles made me determined and I continued dancing.” It was providential that Dr Kapila Vatsayan, the famous scholar of classical Indian dance, art and architecture, chanced upon Birju. “She went to Lucknow and met my mother. She asked her, ‘does your boy do anything?’” recounts Birju Maharaj. His mother replied, “His father is no more. Whatever he taught Birju, the boy remembers a little of that.” It was his Guru Didi (Kapila) who took him to Delhi promising his mother to get him a job at Sangeet Bharati—if the boy proved his merit. Birju Maharaj, now a strapping 13-year-old lad, did more than that. He became the youngest teacher of Kathak at the institute. He was so dedicated that if he happened to be travelling or performing elsewhere, he would head to his classes the moment he landed in Delhi. “I would come with my bag and baggage!”
Birju Maharaj’s journey from a struggling dancer to a legend picked up pace in Sangeet Bharati. He was not new to performance, having performed with his father in Kanpur, Allahabad, Jaunpur, Dehradun, Madubani, Calcutta and Bombay. In fact, his father would sometimes let the young boy present a dance before taking the stage himself. Birju Maharaj’s first major solo was at Manmath Nath Gosh celebrations in Bengal. The show was a success. The car-lover-turned-Kathak teacher had by now also become the proud owner of a bicycle. “I still have it,” he says proudly. “It cost me `125.” Panditji tells the amusing anecdote of his Robin Hood bicycle. “I was earning `50 from dance tuitions when I decided to purchase a cycle from one of the shops around Jama Masjid. It was the first time that I was buying something for myself. There was Hercules brand and Robin Hood brand. I had read the story of Robin Hood in Class V and knew he was a fast runner. So, I decided to buy Robin Hood.” It indeed took him on a drive down the fast lane to success. From Sangeet Bharati, where Birju “worked hard to teach four to five students devotedly,” he moved to Bharatiya Kala Kendra, till the establishment of Kathak Kendra. There he stayed in saddle as the head of its faculty, and later as the director, till his retirement in 1998. “During this period, I travelled the world. I think I visited Russia for a performance as early as 1962,” says Birju Maharaj. “My mother’s insistence that my father let me tag along and watch him, was finally paying off.” But not for a moment did Birju forget his humble beginning. And this reality check still keeps him grounded. There is an ambience of venerated guru-shishya parampara around Birju Maharaj. Panditji, as he is known, is renowned for his pureness of spirit and invokes a deep devotion within his pupils. “It is my desire that my disciples become like me.” He quotes his father to illustrate the point. “My father had once said, ‘knowledge and education increase when you give it away or gift it. If you try to save it or hide it, it goes to the ghats (funeral pyre). The more knowledge you gift, the more your’s will increase.” Birju Maharaj firmly believes that propagating his art enriches his learning. Standing as a testimony to this philosophy, this true guru broke the tradition of handing down the mantle of Lucknow Gharana to the bloodline. He has declared four of his disciples—Pratap Pawar, Munnalal Shukla, Prabha Marathe and Saswati Sen—as Gandabandh Shagirds (Gandabandhan is a ceremony in which a guru ties a sacred thread around the disciple and authorises her or him to carry forth the legacy.) That he has won hearts as a guru, is evident from the way his disciples, young and old, flock to him to seek his blessings. And when they do, Birju Maharaj’s hand rises to bless each one individually.That he is a performer par excellence is as indisputable a fact as that he is an enlightened guru. He received the Sangeet Natak Akademi Award when he was just 28 years old. But more than any award the fact that Birju Maharaj holds all art forms in same regard as Kathak, reveals his worth as a performer. “I won’t talk only about Kathak here. I have received equal love from performers across classical dance forms—Kathakali, Bharatnatyam or Manipuri. I attend all programmes that I am invited to irrespective of their form. If India is my country, then all its dance forms are also mine.” More recognitions have followed over the years: Kalidas Samman, Nritya Choodamani, Andhra Ratna, Nritya Vilas, Adharshila Shikhar Samman, Soviet Land Nehru Award, Shiromani Samman and Rajiv Gandhi Peace Award. He was also awarded honorary doctorates by Banares Hindu University and Khairagarh University. But the highest point of his steadfast, single-minded devotion to Kathak, and a fitting finale to his illustrious career, was when the Government of India conferred upon him the Padma Vibhushan. It was a vindication of his personal and professional struggles. Yet for this indefatigable proponent of classical dance forms, no programme is too small and no audience insignificant. “We were on the last leg of our tour in Italy. The auditorium was huge, but due to inclement weather only 50 people could make it. My troupe was disheartened. Have we come so far to perform before such a small audience? I said to them, think of these 50 aficionados who have braved the rain and storm to watch us perform.” Birju Maharaj wove his magic for one-and-a-half hours over the 50 people. “My father would say that a person who comes to watch us perform, because he genuinely is interested, is our huzoor (lord). Maharaj has the same regard for his many patrons.” He never forgets these nuggets of wisdom his father gave him. You can find Panditji at most functions of Kalashram (his school) playing the drums and singing in the wings for the protégés. Or, sitting in the front row watching performances, singing along, pointing out the good performers or discussing the nuances with his shagirds.
By the time of his retirement from Kathak Kendra in 1998, the transformation of Birju Maharaj to Pandit Birju Maharaj, an institution, was complete. Yet the legend had not lost his verve to teach. Suddenly, he was confronted by the reality of existence in a vacuum— without Kathak Kendra to which he had devoted his life and with which he identified himself. It was his moment of crisis. He was clear though, that he wanted to continue teaching. But there was no extension forthcoming from the government. From his desire to teach, germinated the seeds of Kalashram—his vision of a Kathak school—where kala (art) is venerated through unstinted and honest effort (shram). Panditji explains his vision: “Take kala (art) as the root word. All other art forms are interlinked. If dance is the root, then vocals, instrumental, painting, are also its branches and leaves.” Birju Maharaj is a metaphor of his own vision. If dance is his root—music, art, choreography, composition and poetry are his branches and leaves. His experimentations with group compositions and dance dramas are legendary. He can play all percussion instruments, but is an ace at the tabla and naal. His expertise with string instruments is surprising as he has never trained in them. An excellent singer, he has a steady hold on Thumri, Dadra, Bhajan and Ghazal. With his command of the laya, Birju Maharaj has a gift for composing and gives scores for all his dances. He is also an amateur painter, a poet and an orator, holding his audience’s attention with comic anecdotes. “Through our mudras and the music of our ghungroo (anklets) we recreate the different facets of nature.” Drawing a simile more vivid with his hands mimicking the birds chirping and his eyes darting to indicate their fluid movement, he explains: “Sit down quietly somewhere close to nature at dusk and just soak in the silence. You will hear the birds returning to their nests, chattering. Their chirpings sound like the twinkling of our anklets. We learn from nature. Famous teachers have also drawn lessons from it. If nobody had walked, could time have been there? Deer, cows, buffaloes, elephants also walk and in each walk is hidden a different speed or rhythm. Our gurus tied the different speeds together calling it Ektara Taal. Hear the birds talk on a quiet evening. They talk in different rhythms. This is what our anklets do—they start conversations with the earth.” It is this simple yet profound art of conversation—a gur (artistry)—that he wishes to teach his students at Kalashram. “This cannot be achieved where you cannot hear the birds sing. Nowadays, no one pays attention to a cuckoo’s call. I want my students to hear it. For this to happen I need a verdant, open space. For art to flourish, we must connect with nature.” Kalashram is still to get a little green patch “where there will be trees, a talaab (pond) and birds”. That Kathak as a classical dance has come a long way from its days of village minstrels singing for alms, to the royal mehfils, through the ignominy of kothas and mujras; to become a world-renowned art form, is in no small way due to the ceaseless efforts of Birju Maharaj. He has documented the oral, abstract tradition, giving each mudra a name. He has woven contemporary and intellectual subjects into it without playing with the purity of form, making Kathak a vibrant art, taking it all over the world. Talking about the journey of Kathak, Birju Maharaj quotes some incidents from his childhood.“In my family, girls were not allowed to dance. They were married off early and had to maintain strict purdah,” In fact, much later too, it was only after much cajoling that his mother would sing long-lost songs that he today weaves into his compositions. The stigma attached to the professon was such that it even affected his childhood freindships. “I had a friend, now a professor in the US. As a kid he loved to paint. But whenever we would be sitting together in the evenings, his mother, scared of my influence on him, would call out: Bhole. Bhole. Come home. It is getting late. She would tell him: ‘Do not spend so much time with these dancing-singing people.’ Today, when we meet, he thanks me for inspiring him to become a painter.” Recalling the public ridicule he often faced Maharaj says: “I used to wear ear studs and people would nudge and point at me referring to me as the ‘nachaniya’ (dancer). I would often lie, calling myself a cloth merchant.” Years later, the same man is accosted at international airports by ardent fans. “People want to know where I would perform next.” It makes the maestro happy that Kathak is now a respectable, sought-after art form. Undoubtedly, Kathak has travelled far and wide with this Kathik. And what does the grand old man of Kathak want to bequeath to the next generation? Some wise words: “Preserve your gur (talent). Do not think of it as entertainment. It is part of your character. Rhythm balances life. It is another name of God. I tell my audience: When you watch us perform with ekagrata (concentration), together we create laya (rhythm)—that is God.” You believe in his form of devotion.
DILRUBA Z. ARA: The particular morning as I am walking towards my father’s grave, I am thinking of death. As long as my father was alive, he was a shield between death and I. Now that he is gone, death seemed closer. I think of souls and shake the thought out—it is a profane concept in Islam. Babul, the family driver, is walking with me, with a tin of paint and a couple of brushes and scrubbers. Unlike Swedish graveyards, this graveyard in Banani (Bangladesh) is colourful with multi coloured stones and plants. There are shrubs, chirping birds, boughs heavy with flowers, visitors and grave-keepers. Some graves are sparsely covered with incipient grass, a soft shade of green against the dark soil, as is my father’s. As a celebrated author, my father was supposed to be buried in the Government Graveyard in Mirpur. But my mother wanted his final resting place closer home. I had felt depressed on my first visit to the grave. It not only looked undignified with its temporary walls of cane, but too small for my tall Abba. I could not do anything to expand its size but I could do something to improve its cane walls—and that is what I have come to do today. It took me a week to convince Babul to take me to a hardware shop; he told me that as a woman, I should not dream of painting a tomb (white and bright) in a public burial ground. When I wondered why, he refused to drive me anywhere. When I broached the subject again, he feigned illness. When he showed up later, he said he knew nothing of paints—he was a driver, not a mason after all. My Bengali instinct told me that even if I managed to get the stuff, I could not visit the graveyard alone. I threatened to take the car out. Babul figured that I meant what I said and gave in like an exasperated father. My father's grave is along the boundary wall on the opposite end of the cemetery. To reach it we walk along the main pathway dividing the area and then take the last causeway on the right to pick the way between two rows of graves. We reach a point where we stop to leave the causeway to walk between two graves on our left and climb up to the delta-shaped piece of land along one of the longer sides of Abba’s rectangular sleeping space, and it is just about large enough for us to be able to stand side by side and work. We commence at once. I take up a scrubber and instruct Babul in what he should do. Babul does his work, scowling. He does not speak a word. We have the morning sun on our backs. First, it feels gently warm but after a while I can feel the heat creeping into my flesh through my salwar-kameez. As time passes the heat becomes intense. I see a gathering of a few men standing on the walkway—all bearded and dressed in kameez, topi and trousers which hang above their ankles. Babul whispers, “The elderly one is the Imam! I am sure you have angered him.” I give Babul a murderous look. My brush moves fervently on the slim strips of cane and keeps on sputtering colour on the brick wall behind it. I do not care about the Imam, but I do care about the wall. I should have brought plastic sheets to protect it. When I express my concern, Babul simply states that I am not in Sweden anymore. Behind me the Imam walks back-and-forth with his disciples. I feel their collective scowls and hear their whispers. Done with one frame, I clean the wall and start on another. When I am through, I discover to my dismay that the first one has sucked in much of its new colour. The canes are full of sap. Babul says that we should leave the trellises after giving each a single coat and come back later. For the first time, I agree. We pick our way in between the graves and reach the causeway; I climb on it. The Imam separates himself from his followers and faces me. I arrange the edge of my dupatta correctly on my head as I meet his face. He reminds me of my childhood, of Quran lessons in Ajimpura. His body is scrawny, he has a hunch and his face has the confidence that I have seen in Imams everywhere. I know he wants an explanation, but he does not know what to ask. I do not smile. Neither does he. I forget that I am not in Sweden. He remembers that it is his domain. We both keep our heads high. The sun is now in my eyes, I can not keep them from flickering no matter how severely I command them to stay still. The situation begins to infuriate and embarrass me: shall I declare peace by lowering my eyes? I know for certain that his mind is intellectually limited and his behaviour towards me underlies his self-righteous. I wonder what does he see in me? A rebel or an immodest woman? After a minute’s inner dispute, I to walk away without showing any sign of capitulation. I mutter, “It is my father’s grave and none can stop me from painting it.” Babul’s words penetrate my soliloquy: “That is the oldest daughter. She lives abroad.” I walk quickly and do not look at the rows of graves or read the epitaphs or admire their colours. I do not think of life, death or soul. When I climb into the car I keep my silence. I see in the mirror that the Imam is standing in the middle of the gateway to the graveyard, his face set in stone, his eyes following the car. Next morning, when Babul shows up, I ask him to take out the car immediately. I want to have the fences done before the sun gets too hot. Of course I recall the episode from yesterday and feel discouraged. I will finish what I have started. If the Imam is not brave enough to voice his displeasure what can his silence do to me? I steel myself and change into my white salwar and full-sleeved kameez, and wrap my head with the dupatta. As I slip my feet into my sandals, my mother says, “You should consider yourself lucky that we live in this area.” We reach the graveyard early; before the beggars and flowervendors. There are only a couple of pie dogs sitting leisurely. As I enter the gate and walk past the small mosque, I see the Imam. He sees me, too, and gets to his feet neglecting the crowd sitting around him. He follows Babul and me all the way to the dual graves. I resume working as the Imam begins to walk back and forth on the causeway. I wonder what might be passing through his mind. I wished the Imam behaved as properly as a priest in a graveyard in the west. Then, I could be proud of him. I wanted to be proud of him because he was the Imam at my father’s eternal resting place and he was a full-blooded Bangladeshi. A priest in the west would never neglect his office to pester a daughter. The Imam is now standing still, just opposite me across the twin graves. The blazing sun shines on him, sweat gleaming on his face. Babul wonders if he can offer him a cup of water. I nod to take up the brush again; Babul walks between the graves with a paper cup. The scene repeats itself for a few days. Occasionally, the Imam watches me alone, sometimes with people. But they no longer scowl. Instead they seem to be waiting for the cool water that Babul serves with a broad smile. The fourth day, determined to finish off the work, I go to the graveyard and work doggedly. The cool morning turns warm and then hot as my clothes get drenched. I keep on working, ignoring the escalating heat. I give in only when I realise that I have a splitting headache. I take stock: one more coat and then I will be satisfied. When I reach the aisle, I face the Imam again. His face seems softer. He stands aside. By the evening I come down with a fever. A couple of days later when I find myself somewhat on the mend, I am ready to finish off my work. As the car approaches the graveyard, I find the Imam by the gate. Arms stretched out, he is holding the bars of the huge gate, his white-clad body pressed flat against the grids, his bearded face sticking out from in-between two black bars. He sends me back to Sweden instantly; he reminds of the scarecrows in the wheat fields. This image irritates me. He leaves the bars, pushes the gate and stands aside. It occurs to me that he has been waiting for my return. I give him a nod of recognition and he puts his right palm on his chest and nods. Well-bred men have greeted me in a similar manner. I feel shaken. As I begin walking, I notice that he is not following me but keeping pace. Having given the fences the final coat of colour, Babul and I adjust them around Abba’s grave. The grave now looks better with its verdant grass and white fence. Abba would have been pleased, he loved beauty. We pray in silence for his soul. When we are done, we pick our way back. The Imam, who has been standing, moves. Before we understand he walks past us to Abba’s grave. Babul and I now stand in the aisle looking at him in wonder. He roots himself by the head of the grave and takes out a miniature book. I mistake it for a copy of the Holy Quran, but when he starts reading it aloud, I am shaken. It is a book of poems by the renowned poet Kazi Nazrul Islam. The Imam reads a couplet in honour of my father—my writer father. His voice is warm and deep, drowning all sounds. I listen to him, spellbound. I wait for him. He comes but he does not talk. We walk side-by-side, first on the causeway and then on the broad bricked path that bisects the graveyard. When I am about to climb into the car, I plead, “Please forgive me if I have offended you!” He shakes his head and speaks a line from Kazi Nazrul Islam: “There is a father sleeping in the mind of every child.”
DISASTER // A tsunami warning was issued this April by Indonesia as an earthquake with a preliminary magnitude of 8.9 hit the waters of Aceh province. Tremors were also felt in Singapore, Thailand, Malaysia and India. The powerful earthquake was centered 20 miles (33 kilometres) beneath the ocean floor around 308 miles (495 kilometres) from Aceh’s provincial capital, said the US Geological Survey. The Pacific Tsunami Warning Centre in Hawaii said that a tsunami watch was in effect for Indonesia, India, Sri Lanka, Australia, Myanmar, Thailand, the Maldives and other Indian Ocean islands, Malaysia, Pakistan, Somalia, Oman, Iran, Bangladesh, Kenya, South Africa and Singapore. The massive earthquake was followed by an aftershock of 8.2 Richter. Indonesia straddles a series of fault lines which makes it prone to volcanic and seismic activity. The giant 9.1-magnitude quake of 2004 which had triggered a tsunami in the Indian Ocean had killed 2,30,000 people.
Apex Court clears Modi, Zakia Zaferi vows to continue the fightJUDGEMENT // A special investigations team (SIT) appointed by the Supreme Court to investigate the 2002 Gulberg Society massacre gave the Gujarat Chief Minister Narendra Modi a clean chit and sought its closure as it found no evidence against him. This report probably came as a relief to Chief Minister Modi, who was accused of criminal conspiracy by the Zakia Zaferi, the wife of Congress MP Ehsan Jafri, who was among the 69 people killed in the Gulberg Society carnage. According to the reports filed by the SIT, no evidence was found against any of the 58 persons listed in Zakia’s complaint. The court later ordered that a copy of SIT’s report and related documents be given to Zakia within 30 days, which would give her the rights to pursue private criminal complaints against Modi and co-accused. The court has to decide whether it will accept or reject the report filed by the SIT, after hearing the complainant. The court also stated that there was no need to issue an order to Zakia as she had already approached the court seeking a copy. Zakia had accused Modi and 57 other ministerial colleagues of a wider conspiracy in the Godhra Riots in which more than a thousand people had died. Most victims were Muslims. SIT chief Raghavan said that the complainant will get an opportunity to contest the findings, stating that, “We have done our duty to the best of our abilities”, and that the integrity of the team cannot be questioned. The Supreme Court-appointed amicus curiae, Raju Ramachandran hoped that his independent report on the SIT document will also be given to Zakia, who has the right to file a “protest petition” in court. Ramachandran, who has given his “independent assessment” to the report refused to disclose the contents of his report. The SIT report was submitted after a complete inquiry of the incident and after quizzing all the accused including Modi who was quizzed for more than nine hours by the investigation team. After going through the report the SC had asked Ramachandran to file an independent report which he then submitted to the SC. Refusing to disclose the contents of his report, Ramachandran said he has given an independent assessment on the SIT report. The SIT questioned several people, including Narendra Modi, who was quizzed for more than nine hours in relation to the case. The Apex Court, after going through the report, had asked Ramchandran to independently verify the findings. He has also submitted his report to the Supreme Court. In response to the SIT’s closure report, Zakia said she was “pained” but vowed to continue her battle for justice for her husband and others. She also said, “In the court of the Lord above, justice can get delayed but not denied.”