A TALE OF THREE CITIES

Yet another Southern city has been attacked. And the media has gone on its familiar old lament of how the South is becoming a soft target for terrorists. Frankly, as somebody who comes from the South, this reading of the twin blasts in Hyderabad, is not only stale and redundant, it’s yet another classic case of how the media missed the tree for the woods. If only we looked more carefully we would’ve spotted a rather interesting sociological phenomenon emerging within Hyderabad itself. It has to do with the contrasting responses to the Mecca Masjid blasts and the twin blasts on August 25th. But first, you need to know what makes Hyderabad unique to understand it’s differing responses to the two blasts.

Hyderabad is a tale of three cities. Nowhere in India can you see the past, present and future as starkly as you can in Hyderabad. There’s the old city, which is living on the romantic notion of a glorious past. It has the beautiful Charminar and other minarets. Then there’s the present, in ample display in Secunderabad with its cantonment area, the plush malls and also the commercial district. And then there’s the future in Cyberabad, with its gigantic steel and glass IT offices, which represent the contours of an imagined future.

The contrast in these three cities is integral to the definition of Hyderabad. The new city is always in a hurry, on the move, building a future full of possibilities. The old city is stuck in a time warp. Old timers lament about the good old days, when the Nizam used to rule Hyderabad. For them, nothing came closer to utopia than the King’s reign. So while the new city races ahead at Kbps speeds, this part has been largely untouched by the fruits of liberalisation. In these bylanes, you’ll probably hear more Deccani Urdu, than you’ll hear Telugu, Hindi and English put together. You’ll see more practioners of Unani and Ayurveda, than allopathic doctors. Women here wear burqas and not churidars or sarees.

And this is precisely why the responses to the two blasts have been different. When the Mecca Masjid blasts happened, for most Hyderabadis living outside the Old City, it was like any other terrorist attack. It could have happened in Mumbai, Malegaon or Kashmir, for all they cared. But when Lumbini Park and Gokul Chat were attacked, it was like terror had hit home. Suddenly Mana Hyderabad was under attack. These two spots in many ways epitomise the easy going and laidback spirit of the Hyderabadi. And it was this spirit that was attacked. For most people in the Old City, this was the much needed, rude wake up call, to those on the other side that anybody could be a victim to the dogma of terror. That they don’t have to be lone sufferers in this meaningless and misguided battle.

The Muslim community of the Old city has a distinct regional identity. Their food, their dress, even their language sets them apart from fellow Muslims in any other part of the country. When the state of Hyderabad was trifurcated, soon after independence, the Muslims of Marathwada joined the then Bombay state. But they counted for little among the Muslim elite of Bombay who boasted of the likes of Mohammad Ali Jinnah within their ranks. The same happened to those who joined Karnataka. On the other hand, the Muslims of Hyderabad remained in Hyderabad, the seat of their rule. But they remained concentrated in the Old City in a ghetto environment. Their strength in the capital city, and their marginal presence elsewhere in the state, made them convenient pawns in the games politicians played. As a result a Muslim leadership arose in the form of the Majlis-e-Ittehadul Muslimeen or the MIM. The MIM established itself as a right of center party and soon started acting like the guardian of the Old City Muslims. It ran schools, hospitals and even community centers. But soon the MIM started being perceived as an elitist party by the poor Muslims. Today there’s a power struggle happening in Hyderabad to control the Muslim mind space. And that has made the politics of the city, shriller. This provides for a perfect cover for anti-national elements owing allegiance to Pakistani or Bangladeshi terror groups to operate behind the veil of patriotic and well meaning Muslims of the Old City. Fact is that Hyderabad is a perfect symbol of how selective the fruits of liberalization have been. Unless the disparities between a majority of the Old City residents and those in the newer parts are reduced, Hyderabad will continue to be a hapless victim to terror.

Fortunately though, there are signs of hope. The walls of the walled city cannot block the winds of change. Today, young Muslim boys and girls of the Old City are eager to have an English education so that they can get good jobs. They want to be in Cyberabad, in plush IT and BPO companies. They want to own houses, buy cars and lead a good life. And for the first time, they can realistically think of doing that without having to migrate to the Gulf. The wheel has come full circle. The Muslims of the Old City have to choose once again between pride in their history and hopes for their future. Question is, will their leadership stand up to the test?

P.S.: A certain Congress MP was overheard in the corridors of Parliament seeking cold comfort from the number of Muslims killed in the twin blasts (nearly half of them are from the minority community). At least, Hyderabad will be spared of riots.

ARABIAN TALES FOR THE COMRADES

At a time when the Communists in Delhi are threatening to pull the plug on the central government, a movie is not the first thing that comes to mind. But then, this past week, I caught a refreshing flick on the travails of a self-confessed Commie. Arabikatha is a hardcore political film and a bloody good one, at that.

It’s the tale of Cuba Mukundan, a dyed in the wool Communist party worker. As is evident from his name, the protagonist is a lover of all things Cuban. His role model is Fidel Castro. He also oozes admiration for a Chinese girl. But before that, a combination of circumstances in his hometown Chemanoor forces him to migrate to the Gulf (or gelf as we Mals call it). And he’s forced like millions of his Mallu brethren to do hard labour and earn a living. The thinking-debating Communist gives way for the toiling-slogging manual labourer. He learns life’s hard lessons, the only way they can be learnt. The hard way.

Sreenivasan as Mukundan is not at his best, yet I can't think of any other man pulling off this role. Not even the so-called mega stars of Mollywood, Mammootty and Mohanlal. It says something about both the actor and the industry he works in, that a comedian like Sreenivasan can carry the weight of an entire film on his shoulders. I can't think of too many parallels in Indian cinema, except maybe Nagesh when he paired with KB for films like Edhir Neechal and Server Sundaram.

It's inevitable that comparisons will be made to Sreenivasan's other famous Commie movie, Sandesham. But then Kotapalli Prabhakaran and Cuba Mukundan are as different as cod and caviar. Prabhakaran is a manipulative, conniving, fair-weather Communist who prefers to be a think tank, as opposed to going through the rigours of organised labour. Mukundan on the other hand, is a dedicated Communist who believes in everything the party stands for, including its pet hate, Coca Cola. Sandesham as a movie had much more lighter moments than Arabikatha. It was far more irreverential and precisely for this reason, entertaining. Arabikatha is a whole lot more heavier, yet at the same time, it doesn't get preachy.

It’s a must watch though for Comrade Karat and his friends. The message is simple. Ideals and ideologies are fine. But it takes a lot more to navigate through the cross roads of life. It requires a very essential ingredient called pragmatism. Politics after all is not a JNU debate.

FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS

It’s the silly season in politics. The Presidential election is over. The Bombay Blasts verdict has concluded. And the nuclear deal has been signed, sealed and delivered. So when someone asked me the other day what the next big political story is going to be, I had to wreck my brains quite a bit. And I came up with one. Narendra Modi’s electoral defeat. That to me is going to be the next big story in the Great Indian political jamboree.

Imagine the amplitude and resonance, such an event would have. The poster boy of the Sangh Parivar’s Hindutva philosophy is made to eat crow at the hustings. For the jholewallahs and the so-called secularists, it would be a reason to celebrate from the rooftops. For the tens of thousands who were affected by the riots, it will be cursory justice. But for people like me it will be the ultimate affirmation of the efficacy of our electoral system. That after all, there’s no place for despots in a democracy.




Here’s why Narendrabhai’s days in the hot seat are numbered. There has been open rebellion against him. Five of his MLAs, including his one-time Home Minister have been suspended from the party. Two major communities of Gujarati society, the Koli Patels and the Patidars are highly disillusioned with Modi and his government. And the final cut. His own brethren in the VHP and Bajrang Dal have sworn that they will not campaign for him.

But more than any of these, Modi’s defeat will be caused by simple electoral dynamics. The 2002 election result was an abberation. Something that was facilitated by the riots. At first look, it may seem like the BJP scored a landslide. After all, 126 seats, a two-thirds majority in an assembly of 180 is an avalanche of sorts. But there’s more to it than meets the eye. If you break Gujarat into the four regions of Saurashtra, South, North and Central, you’ll notice that the BJP had gained largely in Central and North. It has a vote swing of 17 and 8 percent in these two regions. Contrast this with South and Saurashtra, where the party’s vote share went down by 8 and 3 percent. So what explains the BJP’s phenomenal success in North and Central Gujarat?

Central and North Gujarat were the worst affected by the riots. Districts like Ahmedabad, Baroda, Mehsana, Dahod, Panchmahals, Anand and Kaira fall in this region and that’s where the impact of the riots was felt most. There were a total of 65 riot-affected constituencies in Gujarat. Of these the BJP won more than 50. And that is what will make the difference between the Gujarat of 2002 and the Gujarat of 2007. The bell tolls for Mr. Modi.

HAS SOUTH INDIAN CINEMA ARRIVED?

The title of this post may seem a bit tenuous. When was south Indian cinema lost for it to be discovered? When was it relegated, for it to be brought to the foreground now? It's easily the most visible and popular form of culture in any of the four southern states. It’s ingrained in the people’s consciousness. Just like masala dosa or Kanjeevaram silk.

Then again, South Indian cinema was always considered a poor cousin to Bollywood. I reckon this was largely due to better marketing by filmmakers in Bombay. Bollywood has this great hype machine working for it. And thanks to all this hype, a false impression has been gaining ground, especially among foreigners taking an interest in our cinema. That Bollywood is Indian cinema and Indian cinema is Bollywood. Malayalam Mega Star Mammootty raised a stink at last year's IIFA awards and rightfully so. Bollywood represents Hindi cinema. And that is only one part of Indian cinema.

On an average around a thousand odd movies are released in India every year. Of which, Hindi cinema makes less than 300. South Indian cinema makes close to 700. How about the number of theatres? India has just under13000 movie halls. Andhra Pradesh alone has about 3000 of them. Tamil Nadu has another 2500. The technical quality of an average South Indian film is far superior to an average Bollywood flick. And here I mean things like cinematography, editing and effects. These are universal and not subjective. Some of the finest cameramen and editors in Bollywood have come from the Deccan. Yet, South Indian cinema is consigned to a lesser existence.

But now within the space of a month, two big-ticket releases have changed that perception. Sivaji and Shankar Dada Zindabad. It’s perhaps the first time that the national media has taken such a huge interest in cinema from beyond the Vindhyas. And it’s purely because of the hyperbole built around these films. The images of Rajni fans bathing his posters in milk or Chiru fans throwing confetti in the theatre, does make people in this neck of the woods, sit up and take notice. Rajnikant and Chiranjeevi didn’t have to lift a finger for the publicity of their films. They are learning the same tricks that their Bollywood cousins have mastered. That fine art called marketing.

Bollywood has for long assumed an infallible superiority over cinema from other languages. But if Sivaji eats into the revenues of a YashRaj production like Jhoom Barabar Jhoom, then you know the equations are being tilted. Like noted columnist Sadanand Menon puts it..'We may not have created Deewar, lekin hamare paas Rajnikant hai.'