DOCTORED DETENTION

"Would you lend a SIM card to a cousin of yours?" It seemed like an innocuous question, coming from my panel producer. "If you were leaving a country and if there was plenty of talk time left in it?", he continued. "Why not?", I retorted. "And if your cousin went on to plot a terror attack, with you having no clue about it, would that also make you guilty of terror?" I knew what he was getting at. Whichever way you look at it, that's all Mohammad Haneef is guilty of. Of lending a SIM card to his cousin just before he left the UK for Australia, thanks to a new job. Does that make him a terrorist? And does that warrant solitary confinement for 23 hours a day in a dark prison cell? I'm not so sure.

There are a couple of myths about terrorism that are being bandied about in the aftermath of this botched up attack.

One of the most oft-asked questions is this. How can educated Muslims do this? After all don't most terrorists fall under the blanket of misguided youth from conflict prone regions who have no access to education? Aren't they the ones who become easy pawns for evil terror mongers? Nothing could be further from the truth than this. Osama bin Laden, the world's most dreaded terrorist is himself a civil engineer. His number two man Ayman al-Zawahiri is a doctor from Egypt. Some of the main conspirators and exponents of 9/11 studied in Hamburg University. In fact they were referred to as the Hamburg Cell, which constituted the core of the perpetrators, Mohammad Atta, Marwan al-Shehi and Ramzi Binalshibh. Education was and will never be an insurance against terror. Terrorism of the Al-qaeda variety is a clash of two different worldviews. It's an ideological battle. Not a battle of deprivation.

The other recurring question is this. How can boys from Namma Bangalore be involved in this? How can a city which symbolises the best that globalisation and what the western world can offer, produce advocates of terror? Honestly, the Bangalore bit in this case is just incidental. These boys could have been from Gumidipoondi or Bagdogra or Dharamsala. Territorial boundaries cannot stymie the flow of terror. The global jihad does not recognise local identities and cultures. The unifying force is just a distorted vision of religion. How else can a boy brought up in Bangalore empathise with a war-torn Palestinian or a battered Iraqi? He probably won't even be able to identify Palestine on a map of the world.

The only way that terror can be stopped is by winning the war of ideas. Today the al-Qaeda is not just a dreaded terror machine. It's much more than that. It's a powerful idea that's prompting hundreds of thousands of young Muslims to give up all, and walk into the throes of death. The problem is that the so-called torch-bearers of the western world are bankrupt of ideas.

Eighty years ago, there was a similar battle of ideas. At that time it was against colonialism. A frail, be-spectacled, old man, wrapped in a loincloth and with a walking stick in hand, found an idea that could take on imperialism. Maybe therein lies the answer.

A REQUIEM FOR THE GARDEN CITY

A lot has been said and written about the plight of Bangalore. Crawling traffic, infrastructure bottlenecks, an apathetic government, Bangalore represents the worst of our civic governance failure. So I shall not go on another all-too familiar diatribe on all the infrastructure ills of India’s silicon valley. That's not what irks me. What I am bothered about are the people. Because people lend character to a city. They define a city. And that's where Bangalore has changed. Just like every other city, I guess. In some cases, irrevocably. It’s no longer that sleepy little town, which was a pleasure to visit. If you were an outsider like me, you went to Bangalore only for two reasons. Either for a holiday or to settle down. Today people come there with stars in their eyes, to ride the great Indian tech boom.

Today, six out of ten persons in Bangalore are from outside. Bangalore has become a city of outsiders. Like an brand-man and an old Bangalorean, Harish Bijoor says, "there are two kinds of Bangaloreans these days. The ones who came here twenty years back, and the ones who’ve come here two to five years back." The problem is Bangalore’s increasingly getting taken over by the new comers. Flashy, yuppie and frankly sometimes, garish. The old Bangalorean’s mild-mannered nature just gets submerged in this collective new-world clamour.

What irks me is that a large number of people (atleast the ones who are most visible and vocal) in Bangalore, have become pseudo. They want to be seen hanging out at certain places simply because it is a hip thing to do. It’s ‘cool’, in their lingo. People pretend to have fun. They’ve become image-conscious and have the money which they need to spend in style. There are too many wannabes hanging around Forum and Garuda. In short, it's what I call the Delhi-fication of Bangalore.

Gone are the days, when hanging out meant eating crispy dosas at MTR or steaming Bissibelle baath at Udupi Krishna Bhavan or simply strolling aound Lal Bagh or Cubbon Park. You could call me a sucker for old world nostalgia, but we went there to eat or stroll and generally have a good time. Not to be seen to be eating or seen to be strolling around. Today, eating out is a lifestyle statement. Going for a movie at PVR is a status symbol. What’s important is where you are eating and what you eat. Not whether it fills your stomach.

I went to a place called Opus when I was in Bangalore. Not a bad place, I must admit. Nice ambience, decent food and way better music than anything you'll get to hear in Delhi. But the people who came there were more Delhiite and less Bangalorean. Fake accents, designer clothes and a swanky attitude to go with it. A friend of mine (an old Bangalorean at that) has a wonderful term that describes these people. 'Fu fu-Shi shi'. Which basically means ‘wannabes’. Bangalore, I'm afraid has become a city of pretenders.

I maybe making too much ado about the natural changes brought to a city’s demography with time. And no city, least of all Bangalore, is immune to the winds of change. But there are larger sociological implications to this growing phenomenon. And sometimes it’s led to violent clashes in a bid to re-territorialize the city. Most recently, when Dr.Rajkumar died, violence engulfed parts of Bangalore. It was as much for the loss of a great cultural icon as it was an assertion by unemployed local youth that they don’t want to be left out of the great Indian dream. That explains the symbols they chose to target..software offices, corporate buildings and government installations. The overall damage to property/business far outweighed the loss of lives. Eight people killed. Forty million dollars of business lost. The same holds true of the 1991 anti-Tamil riots. As much as it was a protest against the Tamils, in the aftermath of the Cauvery tribunal’s interim order, it was also a remonstration at the lack of educational/economic opportunities for indigenous Kannadigas. Consider this. 21 people killed, 15 of them in police firing. On the other hand, the damage to property, 20 crores. And that in 1991, was an astronomical sum.

For all its bluster, the IT industry, the so called jewel in Bangalore’s crown has created just about six lakh jobs. A majority, sixty percent of them indirectly, as allied services. Under 2 lakh are employed directly in the IT and BPO sectors. And that in a city of seven million is quite minimal, considering the pre-eminent position IT claims in the city’s scheme of things. Even today, three and half million people, that’s half of Bangalore’s populace lives in ‘shadow areas’, a government coined euphemism for poverty. But no one writes or reports about it. Almost as if, the poor of Bangalore simply don’t exist.

In essence, Bangalore’s is a tale of two cities. One, living on pretensions, the other in poverty. One, savouring the delights of a good life. The other, struggling from one meal to another. Islands of prosperity in an ocean of poverty. The garden city may yet tide over, what maybe considered a temporary phenomenon. But for old timers like me, Bangalore will never be the same again.

SMALL IS BIG

There are very few nice things to say about the current presidential election campaign. It’s been malicious, slanderous and frankly below the belt. Simply not befitting the country’s first office. But one of the positive fallouts of this vicious exercise has been the genesis of the UNPA. Or should we say, the resurrection of the third front in a new name.

A wise old politician once said that "third front dreams are pipe dreams. It exists only in the fantasies of out of power Chief Ministers." Agreed that Chandrababu Naidu, Jayalalithaa, Mulayam Singh and Om Prakash Chautala are all out of power Chief Ministers who are lurking to get back. But their ambitions are not a pipe dream. I believe, come 2009, these regional satraps will hold the key to the corridors of power in Delhi. And here’s why.

First, if one were to go by the simple thumb rule of anti-incumbency all the constituents of the UNPA are likely to benefit in the 2009 Lok Sabha elections. Even by the most conservative terms, the seven party alliance should be able to notch up about 80 to a 100 seats. Which would mean that for either the NDA or the UPA to come to power, they will need a little bit of help from friends within the UNPA.

Neither the UPA nor the NDA seems to be in a position to storm back to power on their own. The backbone of the UPA is its allies comprising of the Left, DMK, RJD and NCP. All these parties stand to lose in the 2009 elections because of the cyclical nature of anti-incumbency. But none of the NDA partners are in a position to capitalise on the UPA's losses. Hence this should go to the UNPA's kitty.

Gone are the days when the road to Delhi passed through Lucknow. Today it passes through Chennai and Hyderabad. Both the NDA and UPA managed to come to power because of a substantial number of seats from Tamil Nadu and Andhra Pradesh. Hence the importance of being Amma or Babugaaru.

But does that mean a third front government is going to walk the famous path up Raisina Hill? Not quite. The famous Indian Express Editor Shekhar Gupta had written in one of his columns that for a stable polity at the center, the combined strength of the Congress and the BJP has to exceed 300 seats. The Congress and the Jan Sangh/BJP have outnumbered the regional players in every single Lok Sabha since 1952. To put that same point in another way, a non-Congress, non-BJP government can come about only when the combined strength of prospective third front constituents exceeds the combined tally of the Congress and the BJP. Which is why the Mulayams and Lalus and Naidus of the country will always be kingmakers and can never become King.

The fallout of this has been that successive third front governments have been at the mercy of either the BJP or the Congress. The Janata party in 77, the National Front in 89 or even the United Front in 96 and 97. But, unstable as it may seem, the third front is the ultimate manifestation of India’s federal polity, which enables smaller regional parties to call the shots at the centre. So here’s to the political baby in the cradle. In the big bad world of Indian politics, small is big.

BACK TO BLOGGING. THANK YOU SUPERSTAR.

Writing is an addiction. So here I am, back to the enticing world of blogs after a hiatus of more than two years. Funny, the point of provocation to get back to the clicker-clacker of the keyboard also had to be an addiction. Something I have been hooked to since I was five. Something I’ve grown with. Something that is an inherent part of my South Indian psyche. The phenomenon called Rajnikanth.

Funny again, that the reason I am writing this is a blog of a fellow media person, terming Sivaji the boss of crap. Fair enough. She has every right to be entitled to an opinion. Like an old firend says.."Opinions are like certain orifices in the human body. Everyone has one." But opinions have to be based on facts, logic and closeness to reality. Sadly, hers wasn’t.

First things first, Sivaji is not Rajni’s best movie. Nor is it his worst. It’s not even a yardstick to measure the range or depth of his work. It’s just another Rajni film. Entertaining and in relative terms I place it above the last two movies he’s done, Chandramukhi and Baba. Chandramukhi was too much of a safe script. Proven successful in Malayalam and Kannada. Even the superstar needs the security of a safe bet, once in a while. Chandramukhi was a safe bet. As for Baba, I don’t even want to get started. Arguably, the most forgetful fare from the superstar’s stable.

Sivaji on the other hand is Rajni in his elements. Not quite vintage Rajni. It’s more a Shankar movie than a Rajni one. Shankar’s scripts, whether it’s Muthalvan, Indian, Gentleman or even Anniyan could have had Rajni in the lead. He in fact had gone to Rajni with the Muthalvan role. Word is that Rajni refused because if he did that movie, it would be impossible for him to stay out of politics. (The protagonist in Muthalvan goes onto become CM of Tamil Nadu). Because when you have him as the hero, the entire setting becomes larger than life. And that’s what Rajni is. Larger than reality. An extraordinary escape window for our mundane everyday existences. He does, what we all aspire to. Beat up the baddies, court the beauties and cleanse the system. And do it in style.

It’s a tad dubious that an actor should be judged, just by one work of his. Imagine judging Amitabh after having seen only films like Mahaan or Sharaabi or Mard. And that too by people who haven’t seen Rajni grow over the years. And worse, still by those who don’t understand a word of Tamil. That’s plain unfair. It’s like me trying to judge Almodovar or Kurosawa. I’d never be able to appreciate the nuances as much as a Spaniard or a Japanese.

There’s another myth about Rajni that I’d like to blow. That he’s a bad actor. He’s just a man of antics and a sub-standard actor. I beg to differ. Anyone who’s seen Rajni in Thappu Thalangal, Gayatri, Aval Appadithan or Sri Raghavendra wouldn’t call Rajni a bad actor. It’s a pity that the actor in him has been buried under the superstar. And Tamil cinema shall be the lesser for it.

But there are these two incidents which put the Rajni phenomenon in perspective. Everytime I meet an outsider who asks me about Rajni, I tell them these two incidents. Just as an indicator of where the man began and where he is now. The first one involves Rajni and the legendary Kannada director Puttana Kanagal who gave him one of his first breaks in Katha Sangamam. During the shooting, Rajni walked upto the legendary director and told him..”Sir, I don’t know the ABCD of acting. I was a bus conductor before this.” To which, the witty Puttana replied “Son, don’t worry I was a two-wheeler mechanic before this. So I think we’ll make a good team.”

The second incident happened many years later. In 1992, after Rajni’s superstar status had hit stratosphere. Jayalalithaa was CM of Tamil Nadu in her first term. Brash, arrogant and new to power. Rajni was leaving his home for shooting one morning, when he noticed a huge traffic block outside. Upon enquiring he found out from Jaya’s PSO that the road was blocked because Madam was leaving her residence. The wily Rajni gets off his car, walks up to a nearby tea stall and starts having his regular fare of tea and Wills Navy cut. Within minutes, a huge crowd surrounds him and the whole street becomes a sea of people. The all powerful CM can’t get out of her house. The same PSO comes back to Rajni and says.."Sir you please leave first. Madam cannot move if you don’t leave first. I am sorry for the trouble." Few actors in the country could thumb their nose at a Chief Minister. Least of all, at the all powerful Amma.

Finally it’s only appropriate that I sign off in Rajni style, with the much-publicised (and may I add ridiculed by some) dialogue from Sivaji. “Pigs go in herds. The lion walks alone.” Keep walking Superstar. We’ll never get enough of you.