BATTLE OF THE MYTHS

The old fox is at it once again. You may or may not agree with Karunanidhi's world view of things, but you cannot grudge the man for an innate sense of time and place. No one in my experience of covering politicians and their ilk, plays to the galleries as often and as well as this man. So for most people, on this side of the Vindhyas, Kalaignar's statement attributing Ram to a drunkard and questioning his engineering capabilities, could amount to heresy. But for me, it's just a reflection of the man and his politics.

This is not the first time that Ram has been used as a punching bag. For proponents of the Dravidian movement, like Karunanidhi, Ram was a symbol of Aryan dominance over the native Dravidian. In fact in the forties and fifties, there was a very popular drama doing the rounds of towns in Tamil Nadu called Keemayana. It was an interpretation of the sacred epic that turned everything in it, on its head. So Ram became a drunkard, Sita became a wanton woman and Ravana was celebrated as a Dravidian Hero. It was thrashed by the Brahmins and lapped up by the lower castes.

But this interpretation by EV Ramaswamy was not iconoclastic. There were numerous interpretations of the Ramayana, which celebrated Ravana as a hero. The most notable among them is by a Tamil Rennaisance saint named Ramalingaswami who denounced Valmiki's interpretation of Rama as the do-gooder and Ravana as all evil. There are even Jain interpretations of the Ramayana in their Prati Puranas, which question the central premise of the epic. EVR's Keemayana though, ended up being the most popular.

A politician's audience defines his politics. Karunanidhi's audience will lap up every bit of the Ram-trashing that he's indulging in. Not that the average Tamilian is not religious. In fact, Tamil society is one of the most visibly religious parts of India. You'll find more men sporting the vibudhi and more women donning the kungumam in Chennai or Coimbatore than in any other city in India. But the Tamilian's idea of Hinduism is different from the mainstream Hinduism, defined by the BJP. For him, Ram is not a deified incarnation of Vishnu. Instead, he's a twice born Kshatriya who was an upholder of Brahminical caste norms in society. Someone who killed Sambuk the Sudra, because he did penance. This makes him a figure of resent for the average non-Brahmin Tamilian who's idea of Hinduism is built on a strong dose of anti-Brahminism. Moreover, Dravidian politics has always thrived on a mid-level-lower caste identity rather than a monolithic Hindu identity. Therefore it's only natural that a Tamilian is suspicious of the BJP's idea of a homogenous Hindu ethos.

Moreover, the Sethusamudram iself is seen as a symbol of Tamil pride. Forget, the developmental aspects of the project. The Tamils believe that their Golden Period, which is known as the Sangam period, was under a unified landmass that comprised of the Deccan plateau, Ceylon, Madagascar, Australia and Antartica. And this piece of land is described as Kumari Kandam. Two massive floods are believed to have sunk the Kumari Kandam. The two Sangams, Mudhal Sangam and Idai Sangam are believed to have been written in between these two floods. For the Dravidians, Kumari Kandam or the cradle of civilization is the origin of human languages in general, and Tamil, in particular. For the Dravidianists, the construction of the Sethusamudram Canal comes closest to a modern realisation of the myth of Kumari Kandam. Thus, it’s this politics of nostalgia and the loss of a golden past that Karunanidhi is trying to stoke. Ironically, it’s one myth versus another. The BJP is attacking Karunanidhi for debunking their myth of the Ramar Sethu, even as he propagates his own myth of Kumari Kandam. As always, the old fox has the last kill.

CAPTAIN COURAGEOUS

There are a few myths regarding the resignation of Rahul Dravid that need to be cleared. If anyone (most notably, sports journalists) comes up to you and says, I saw it coming; then you know he’s fibbing. Fibbing through his teeth because no one saw this coming. Not even the selectors. Not even the mandarins of the BCCI. Not even Rahul’s own agent Lokesh Sharma. Such is the man that Rahul Dravid is. Intensely private. A thorough gentleman.

Just a day before the resignation, the BCCI had this star studded affair announcing the launch of it’s new Twenty 20 league. And there were about 200 odd journalists who descended upon that PC. Not a soul there, knew this was coming. Isn’t this ample proof that Rahul Dravid was not interested in the media. If the man wanted to, he could have gone to press first and then informed his bosses in the BCCI. And take my word for it, a lot many Indian captains have done that in the past. The Board was almost invariably, the last one to know. Typical of the man, Rahul makes his decision known to the Board President and goes off on a holiday to the jungles. Thank God for places where cell phones are still unreachable!

The other myth that needs to be busted is this. That he resigned because of differences within the members of his team. Now proponents of this theory will cite the examples of Sourav Ganguly and Zaheer Khan in England speaking in direct contrast to their captain. Why don’t we get this straight? The Indian cricket team is like a private company with eleven employees. You don’t have to love everyone in office nor do you have to agree with each of them. But, all eleven work towards the profit of the organisation. At the end of the day, it’s just a job. Zaheer and Sourav were stating their personal choices. That, in no way makes it, ‘irreconcilable differences’ within the team.

So why did Rahul resign? Well I’m not an expert on this, nor am I close confidant of his. But being a self-confessed fan of Rahul’s, I think it has something to do with the word ‘Legacy’. Those who know Rahul, know that he’s a stickler for history. Twenty years from now, will we remember Rahul Dravid, the batsman or Rahul Dravid, the captain? Chances are, we’ll remember him as a great batsman. And I’m sure Rahul would not want anything to tarnish that reputation. It is true that his batting had been affected because of his captaincy. From the early sixties it had come down to the mid forties in tests. But that’s happened even to the greatest of the greats. Sir Viv, Steve Waugh and Sachin Tendulkar. For all his Bradmanesque achievements, Dravid too is human after all.

There’s an old saying in Malayalam. "Swaram nanaayi irikumbam pattu niruthenam." Meaning, you have to stop singing when your voice is at its peak. Rahul Dravid is one of the few Indian captains who’s resigned after a high, leading the Indian team to a series victory in England after 2 decades. Most of them are sacked ignominiously. Which leaves us with the one positive development to come out of this whole fiasco. It will give us back, Rahul Dravid the batsman. So here’s to more Kolkatas(180*), Adelaides(233) and Headingleys(148). Welcome back Rahul ‘The Wall’ Dravid.

CONFESSIONS OF A TV ANCHOR

It’s always a nice feeling as a television anchor, if you manage to piss off a guest so badly, that he walks out of your show. It’s a television moment. Something of that sort happened last week, when the guardian of right wing Hindutva, Dr. Praveen Togadia walked out of my show. Apparently, Doctor Saheb (sorry for the politically incorrect reference) was irked at the aggressive questioning of the anchor, that he found it difficult to defend his stated public position.

This is not the first time it’s happened to me though. As far as I can remember, the first person to walk out of my show was a retired Air Force Commodore. I think it was the Air Force day or something. We had a special show on it. And just two days prior to that, another MiG 21 had crashed. As usual, I rubbed it in to the Commodore, that the Indian Air Force needed to get its act right. Being the force ka aadmi that he was, he took offence to my questions. The repartees lasted for about five-seven minutes, after which I ended the chat. And this is an old trick. Whenever you’ve pissed off a guest, the best way to end it is by saying.."Mr.X, you have defended yourself very well. It was a pleasure talking to you." And you extend a handshake. At this point, most guests mutter something under their breath and quite limply offer their hand for a shake. Not Commodore Saheb. After all, he was a force ka aadmi. With the straightest of faces, he says.."I’m afraid it was not such a pleasure talking to you, young man." And in one clean motion, rips his lapel mike off his coat, and walks away, huffing and puffing.

Then there are times, when you don’t exactly come out victorious. Like the time Pooja Bhatt made shredded mincemeat out of me, when I interviewed her, on the day of release of one of her movies. The mistake I made (and I promised myself that day, I’ll never do it again) was that I didn’t watch her movie. I still remember my panel producer say to me after the chat.."Arre, yeh tho tumhe seven course meal banakar kha li." Well, that’s the way life is. Sometimes you feel like an emperor, sometimes you end up feeling like shit. Life is a great leveler. And sometimes, a bitch.

A lot of people have asked me, why do you be so aggressive with your guests. I guess the answer lies in what the great BBC anchor, Jeremy Paxman, once said about the guests on his show. “I know this guy is a lying bastard. Why is he lying to me and how do I show the world that he is?” Although I don’t think of my guests in the same slanderous terms, it’s a method of interviewing I have followed. And not everyone likes it. I don’t expect them to either. Sorry Togadia Saheb.

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.'