Of Youth, Blasphemy & Media Trials
Way into my 60s, my sympathies are with
Gen.Next. India’s become a tough place
to live in: no smiling, laughing, jokes,
loving, drinking, no what not.
Only Ram naam japna…... India from sadhudom
to dogmatist capitalism. Two of our best-adjudged universities facing bigoted
media trials.
Take heart. It was not always like this. Nor
will it remain so. YOU guys need cool
hearts and wits to achieve genuine Achhe Din.
Since Time Immemorial, the child has been the father of Man. Across the world, huge changes have been rung
in by Youth Brigades.
Take the caste imbroglio. Ask the powers-that-be to read the
Satyanarayan katha aarti: a Raja outdone by a Bhil woodcutter in faith; a greedy
bania coming to woe vs. cowherds’ devotion and more. Even mythological tales speak of lower
castes as better human beings.
Some twenty odd years ago, writing against
the deification of the past, I mentioned Mahatma Gandhi’s “bania non
cooperation.” Eyebrows were raised; I explained that Gandhi was born and bred a
bania; that molded a thought process the yielded the non-cooperation plan, in
which business continued as usual but no taxes paid. Profit hi profit, dande me, no taxes and huge numbers joining the freedom movement.
Earlier during university celebrations of the
Mahatma’s birth centenary, an intercollegiate elocution event focused on facets
of his teachings. Never a great fan, I
endured the spouting over all his teachings. My turn came near the end. Pakoed
by all the eulogy, I set aside my prepared speech and asserted that to achieve
our goal of all round development for all, India cannot afford to be held back
by outdated, rural-based philosophies. Perhaps
it is time to place the Mahatma and all his preachings into a time capsule to
be launch into outer space!!
Imagine the reaction to such Blasphemy! Gandhian judges ready to burst. The crowd parted
to make way for me to leave. The next day, ‘take care,’ or ‘best of luck’ whispers helped
pass time waiting for the Principal’s summons.
But I was summoned to the Staff Room,
deserted except for the Vice Principal, ensconced at the far end, fingers
steepled in front of him. Staring at his
fingers, he read me a half hour lecture….
“As Father of the nation, he deserved homage
on his centenary; social niceties demanded that and we were bound by such
niceties. We live in a social circle,
people are hurt otherwise etc etc etc…..
The steeple broke into laced fingers in his
lap.
“I’m sorry Sir. It will not happen again.”
After a silence, I asked “Will that be all?”
At his nod, I started to turn, ‘Just a minute,”
Finally I met his twinkling eyes “I tend to agree with you,” he said.
I almost curtsied as I held back a triumphant
burst of laughter. Nothing more was ever said.
Perhaps that generation of elders knew that soon
enough, I would understand that India’s colossal varieties need a multiplicity
of approaches to help them into the 21st century.
Now when will our generation achieve such
wisdom?
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