Senior journalist Nidhi Razdan’s ,‘Left, Right and Centre: The Idea of India’ captures the country in its essence as a melting pot of cultures and histories
Former bureaucrat and current Member of Parliament, Shashi Tharoor, in his essay ‘The Idea of an Ever-ever Land’ talks about how any truism can never hold good for a country as plural as India.
Here’s an excerpt from Tharoor’s essay.
Just thinking about India makes clear the immensity of the challenge of defining what the idea of India means. How does one approach this land of snow peaks and tropical jungles, with twenty-three major languages and 22,000 distinct ‘dialects’ (including some spoken by more people than Danish or Norwegian), inhabited in the second decade of the twenty-first century by over a billion individuals of every ethnic extraction known to humanity? How does one come to terms with a country whose population is nearly 30 per cent illiterate but which has educated the world’s second-largest pool of trained scientists and engineers, whose teeming cities overflow while two out of three Indians scratch a living from the soil? What is the clue to understanding a country rife with despair and disrepair, which nonetheless moved a Mughal emperor to declaim, ‘if on earth there be paradise of bliss, it is this, it is this, it is this . . .’? How does one gauge a culture which elevated non-violence to an effective moral principle, but whose freedom was born in blood and whose independence still soaks in it? How does one explain a land where peasant organizations and suspicious officials once attempted to close down Kentucky Fried Chicken as a threat to the nation, where a former prime minister once bitterly criticized the sale of Pepsi-Cola ‘in a country where villagers don’t have clean drinking water’, and which yet invents more sophisticated software for the planet’s computer manufacturers than any other country in the world? How can one determine the future of an ageless civilization that was the birthplace of four major religions, a dozen different traditions of classical dance, eighty-five major political parties and 300 ways of cooking potato?
The short answer is that it can’t be done, at least not to everyone’s satisfaction. Any truism about India can be immediately contradicted by another truism about India. It is often jokingly said that ‘anything you can say about India, the opposite is also true’. The country’s national motto, emblazoned on its governmental crest, is ‘Satyameva Jayate’: Truth Alone Triumphs. The question remains, however, whose truth? It is a question to which there are at least a billion answers, if the last census hasn’t undercounted us again.
But that sort of an answer is no answer at all, and so another answer to those questions has to be sought. And this may lie in a simple insight: the singular thing about India is that you can only speak of it in the plural. There are, in the hackneyed phrase, many Indias. Everything exists in countless variants. There is no single standard, no fixed stereotype, no ‘one way’. This pluralism is acknowledged in the way India arranges its own affairs: all groups, faiths, tastes and ideologies survive and contend for their place in the sun. At a time when most developing countries opted for authoritarian models of government to promote nation building and to direct development, India chose to be a multiparty democracy. And despite many stresses and strains, including twenty-two months of autocratic rule during the 1975 Emergency, a multiparty democracy—freewheeling, rumbustious, corrupt and inefficient, perhaps, but nonetheless flourishing—India has remained.
One result is that India strikes many as maddening, chaotic, inefficient and seemingly ‘unpurposeful’ as it muddles its way through the second decade of the twenty-first century. Another, though, is that India is not just a country, it is an adventure, one in which all avenues are open and everything is possible. ‘India,’ wrote the British historian E.P. Thompson, ‘is perhaps the most important country for the future of the world. All the convergent influences of the world run through this society . . . There is not a thought that is being thought in the West or East that is not active in some Indian mind.’
Just as well a Brit said that, and not an Indian! That Indian mind has been shaped by remarkably diverse forces: ancient Hindu tradition, myth and scripture; the impact of Islam and Christianity; and two centuries of British colonial rule. The result is unique. Many observers have been astonished by India’s survival as a pluralist state. But India could hardly have survived as anything else. Pluralism is a reality that emerges from the very nature of the country; it is a choice made inevitable by India’s geography and reaffirmed by its history.
Pluralism and inclusiveness have long marked the idea of India. India’s is a civilization that, over millennia, has offered refuge and, more importantly, religious and cultural freedom to Jews, Parsis, several varieties of Christians and, of course, Muslims. Jews came to Kerala centuries before Christ, with the destruction of their First Temple by the Babylonians, and they knew no persecution on Indian soil until the Portuguese arrived in the sixteenth century to inflict it. Christianity arrived on Indian soil with St Thomas the Apostle (Doubting Thomas), who came to the Kerala coast some time before 52 ce and was welcomed on shore by a flute-playing Jewish girl. He made many converts, so there are Indians today whose ancestors were Christian well before any Europeans discovered Christianity. In Kerala, where Islam came through traders, travellers and missionaries rather than by the sword, the Zamorin of Calicut was so impressed by the seafaring skills of this community that he issued a decree obliging each fisherman’s family to bring up one son as a Muslim to man his all-Muslim navy! This is India, a land whose heritage of diversity means that in the Kolkata neighbourhood where I lived during my high school years, the wail of the muezzin calling the Islamic faithful to prayer routinely blends with the chant of mantras and the tinkling of bells at the local Shiva temple, accompanied by the Sikh gurdwara’s reading of verses from the Guru Granth Sahib, with St Paul’s cathedral just round the corner.
Tag: featured
5 Ruskin Bond Quotes we’ve Written in Our Journal
Remember the last time you stood and quietly watched the rain patter on the empty streets? Remember the last time you watched a snail lazily drag itself across the grass?
It is hard to find time to appreciate the smaller things in life, and that is precisely where Ruskin Bond’s book Words From the Hills helps us. In the hustle and bustle of our everyday lives, the words from this specially designed journal come as a breath of fresh air, bringing with them the philosophy and legacy of the wonderful author.
Here are 5 quotes from Ruskin Bond we all must have thought of writing in our journals.
Which quote are you going to write in your journal?
How to Become a CEO?
Sandeep K. Krishnan crafts a way for aspiring youth to become a CEO in his book Making of a CEO. The book explores nuances of leading in different contexts like start-ups, large corporations, family businesses, educational institutions, not-for-profits, public sector and the government.
Making of a CEO is an illuminating culmination of interviews and analysis of top-level CEOs across various sectors.
Here are a few tips you can employ to climb the professional ladder.
Inspiring, isn’t it?
6 Things You Didn’t Know about the ‘Indian Spirit’
Did you know drinking has been a part of the Indian culture since pre-Vedic times? The Indian Spirit by Magandeep Singh traces the antique tales related to alcohol, its variety, and etiquettes on the table when drinking or tasting notes on variety of spirits and brews. The book is also a treasure trove for those who have the palate to enjoy their drink and curiosity to know where it came from.
Here are 6 facts about desi alcohol variants you probably didn’t know.
A rare gem we must all try
Beautiful fusion of Saffron and Kasturi
You can have it all in India itself
Cannot wait to gulp down this luscious drink!
Rice Beer and steamed meat, what more can we ask for?
Who said alcohol is injurious to health?
It’s time to pour yourself a drink!
10 Perumal Murugan Poems That Will Break Your Heart
Perumal Murugan’s body of work boasts of several novels, short story collections and poetry anthologies. An author and scholar, Murugan write in Tamil. His bibliography has also been translated into many languages over the years.
His new book Songs of a Coward : Poems of Exile weave an exquisite tapestry of rich images and turbulent emotions.
Here are 10 poems which will stir your emotions.
Evocative and mesmerising lines which will leave an imprint on your heart.
5 PG Wodehouse Characters Who Will Make You Laugh Out Loud
P.G. Wodehouse is widely recognised as one of the greatest 20th-century writers of humour in the English language. As well as his novels and short stories, he wrote lyrics for musical comedies with Guy Bolton and Jerome Kern, and at one time had five musicals running simultaneously on Broadway. His time in Hollywood also provided much source material for fiction. His iconic characters have always been successful in bringing a smile to his readers’ faces. So much so, that in 1936, he was awarded the Mark Twain Prize for ‘having made an outstanding and lasting contribution to the happiness of the world’. He was subsequently made a Doctor of Letters by Oxford University and in 1975, aged 93, he was knighted by Queen Elizabeth II.
Here are a few characters from Wodehouse’s books who will make you speechless with their wit.
Aren’t these characters outrageously funny? Tell us which character you found the funniest.
How Sindhis do Business, An Excerpt from ‘Paiso’
Guided by their sharp business acumen and adaptability, Sindhis have braved the Partition, fled from one nation to another and weathered ups and downs in the economy to set up some of the biggest companies in the world. In Paiso, Maya Bathija chronicles the journey of five Sindhi families and the business empires they have established.
Here’s an excerpt from the book.
Sindhis are a community originally from Sindh, which is now in Pakistan. Even in the earliest references, Sindh has been known as a beautiful land, rich in natural resources. Since thieves can only steal from lands of abundance, the inhabitants of this area had their peace and harmony disturbed from time to time by plunderers. From the Mohenjo Daro and Harappa excavations, archaeologists discovered the city structure that ran with underground drainage, and dug up bricks and jewellery, proving that 5,000 years ago a full-fledged civilization lived in Sindh, on the broad plains and valleys of the Indus River.
The Sindhis were predominantly Hindu by religion, but some later converted to Islam and Sikhism. There was a time when some Sindhi families promised their eldest sons to Sikhism, who wore turbans in the same way as Sikhs.
A lot of the Sindhi heritage and history was destroyed by invaders. Chach Namah,the oldest known historical account of Sindh, was written by an Arab historian accompanying the forces of Mohammed bin Qasim, who attacked Sindh in 711 ad. It has also been established that there existed Sindhi Hindu dynasties, such as the Samma, Samra, Khairpur, Kalhore and Talpur.
Sindhis were primarily businessmen and traders. Their skills did not naturally allow them to take part in warfare, but they were known for their perseverance and business acumen even centuries ago. The main trading castes were the Lohana, Bhatia, Khatri, Chhapru and Sahta. These castes were occasionally divided into occupational groups, such as the Sahukars (merchants) and the Hatawaras (shopkeepers).The most affluent Sindhis were the merchants who owned trading firms (kothis4) in the major towns of Sindh. Eventually, the name Amil5 was given to any Sindhi who was engaged in government service.
Post-Partition, many of them who moved to India, having left everything behind, experienced much poverty and hardship. And there has been many a proverbial rags-toriches story in the community.
The early perception of the Sindhworki who had moved to India and lived in Bombay in the post-Partition days was that a Sindhi would do almost anything to make even a small amount of money. If the shops around sold sugar for Re 1 a kg in bags of 50 kg, Sindhi businessmen would buy 50-kg bags of sugar and sell the commodity on the streets for 99 paise a kg. Their price being 1 paise cheaper per kg, they sold hundreds of bags of sugar, making a loss of 50 paise per 50-kg bag. This amazed others and made them wonder why a person would work so hard to lose money. What they failed to realize was that every time a Sindhi businessman sold an empty bag for Re 1, he made a net profit of 50 paise on every 50-kg bag of sugar.
Sindhis were known to sacrifice profit margins for a large turnover. With the exception of the Seths of Karachi, the Sindhworkis of Hyderabad and the Shroffs of Shikarpur, most Sindhis were local shopkeepers and moneylenders. They specialized in the hundi, or bill of discount, with Chennai, Madurai, Tamil Nadu, and Karnataka being some of the main banking hubs. They even became financiers for industries and filmmaking in Bombay. The Shikarpuri Shroffs were dependent on commercial banks for their trading. The rest went on to become traders, cloth merchants and businessmen, some of them in faraway countries.
Sindhi families have been known to migrate to countries all over the world or to send their children overseas for education. After one lot migrated, they would then encourage their relatives to join them, not only so that the relatives could better their own prospects but also so that they could help the family business grow. Sindhis moved far and wide, to the Far East, the Middle East, the Caribbean, Europe, the Americas and Africa. Over the years, their businesses have evolved from trade and finance to export/import, retail, entertainment, computers, property/real estate, etc.
In most Sindhi families, the heirs were—and sometimes still are—exposed to the family business from childhood itself, creating in them business aspirations at an early age. Sons were expected to earn even while they were studying—what is now known as ‘to shadow’. They happily learnt the ropes of their family business, but sadly, formal education was never encouraged among the community, as it was thought it was not in the ‘Sindhi blood’ to excel in academics. Most Sindhi families felt that the time spent on acquiring an education could be better spent on earning money. They believed that inherent business sense could be cultivated by practice and experience and not necessarily through formal education.
The Trials and Travails of Corporate Culture, An Excerpt from ‘Shikari: The Hunt’
‘Shikari’ by Yashwant Chittal is set in the concrete jungles of Mumbai and weaves together the high-stake conspiracies of the corporate world. Through Nagappa’s story Chittal reveals a fiercely competitive arena where Man’s primordial instincts surface, and the line between the hunter and the hunted is often blurred.
Here’s an excerpt from the book.
As the situation he found himself in began to make some sense to Nagappa, he recalled K, the hero of Kafka’s novel The Trial that he had read years ago. Just like it had happened with K, somebody must be spreading false rumours about him. Or why would this bizarre order from the personnel and administration manager come yesterday morning, when he was getting ready to go to work? The thought unnerved him.
You have been suspended with immediate effect due to serious charges against you. You will be informed of the charges at the earliest. You have been ordered not to attend the office till such time
that we inform you about them. The order was very clear. And it had come with a piece of advice: With the view that you are not adversely affected in any way in the event of the charges being proved false, it is in your interest to apply for a month’s leave immediately.
Nagappa had sent in his leave application. But he now faced the predicament of having to hide from others the real reason for his forced leave. He wracked his brains for a plausible explanation he could give, but couldn’t think of any. And then there were these ‘charges’. The more he tried to think what they could possibly be, the more intriguing the whole thing appeared to him.
For a moment, he wondered if it was all a terrible mistake. He couldn’t somehow bring himself to believe this was really happening to him, because he was to leave for America in a couple of months for higher training—something he had dreamt of for years. And now this, when he was eagerly waiting for the day.
A thought occurred to him: Was being selected for the training the very reason for this sudden turn of events? As time passed, he became convinced that was the case. What had started as a vague suspicion began to appear like the truth. This meant Phiroz still harboured that old hatred towards him. This’s surely part of some vicious plot hatched by that Machiavellian manipulator . . . that evil politicking bastard . . . the son of a bitch Number One! Nagappa thought. Things would become clearer if he could somehow find out what the charges framed against him were. Now he could do nothing but wait for further information from the personnel and administration manager.
He found the wait unbearable. He became suddenly and acutely aware that he had nothing to do. He shuddered. The question of what to do with his time had never bothered him before. But now, empty hours stretched before him, directionless. He recalled reading in a book on psychology that one of the greatest problems the human mind finds difficult to grapple with is the structuring of time.
Suppressing the waves of amorphous panic that threatened to engulf him, he tried to define it and give it some shape. But the more he tried, the more it seemed to gain an upper hand. He shook inwardly, uncontrollably. He spent the day analysing each passing mood and thought and recording it. And his chronicling continued:
Comment 1: This is the second day of my forced leave. The thought that came to me as I woke up: If I keep thinking about this problem, I might either end up in a mental asylum or committing suicide. Both are ways of running away from the situation—attempts at alienating myself from the world.
Is the constant act of analysing the meaning of life a sign of a profound inner search or of losing faith in life—in one’s very existence? Isn’t embracing life with enthusiasm and living with a sense of commitment a natural instinct? Isn’t it the very wellspring of life’s process?
Why does this question, that doesn’t seem to bother millions of other living beings, constantly trouble me? Maybe it’s not because of my philosophical bent of mind, which I secretly take pride in, but because I have no zest for life. I think the very wellspring that energizes my being has run dry. Maybe it’s meaningless to search for the meaning of life. How can you search for something that doesn’t exist? This so-called ‘meaning’ is something we’ve invented. And then, how is creativity possible when there is no zest for life? How can the creative impulse spring in this arid desert?
The Story of Amit Burman, An Excerpt from ‘The Inheritors’
Sonu Bhasin is one of the early and senior women professionals in the industry and has led businesses in senior leadership positions during her corporate career. In her book ‘The Inheritors’ she provides a behind-the-scenes look at what goes behind big family business brands like Dabur, Marico, Dabur, Keventers, Berger Paints, Select Group, Max Group and many others. It also gives an account of the inheritors who play a pivotal role in making or breaking huge business empires.
Here’s an excerpt from the book.
I am confused. Did I not have an appointment with Amit Burman, vice chairman of Dabur India—the 133-year-old company known for iconic products like Hajmola, Dabur Chyawanprash and Dabur Amla Hair Oil? Amit had asked me to come to his office for the meeting. As I walk into the building, I see posters of well-known brands. But to my knowledge, none of these are Dabur’s. I walk up the stairs with posters of Café Delhi Heights, Zambar, Fres Co, Punjab Grill, Street Foods and Baker Street accompanying me. Am I in the wrong office? I begin to wonder. I turn back and ask the guard at the gate, ‘Yeh Amit Burman sa’ab ka office hai? Sa’ab hain kya office mein? (Is this Amit Burman’s office? Is he in the office?)’ The guard merely nods in a bored manner. Shaking my head in confusion I go back up the stairs to the office. The receptionist, with a bright smile, confirms that I am expected and guides me to Amit’s office. Phew! At least I am in the right place.
Amit laughs out loud when I ask him why no Dabur brands are displayed in the office of the company’s vice chairman. ‘This is my personal business, with my own money, and Dabur has nothing to do with it,’ explains Amit. He is certainly the vice chairman of Dabur India Limited, but that role is a quasi-non-executive one.
‘Dabur is in the hands of professional management, so my role is to guide them to follow the Burman family’s vision for the business,’ says Amit. As a person who finds it difficult to sit at home even on a weekend, Amit certainly needed something to keep himself occupied once he moved into the non-executive role at Dabur. ‘Food has always been a passion with me,’ he says. With time on his hands and unwilling to lead a life only of leisure, he decided to follow his passion and set up a food business in the mid-2000s. Today, his real passion and real business, no pun intended, is Lite Bite Foods, the food company set up by him. His business has the dineout brands that I saw on my way to his office. Punjab Grill, Fres Co, Zambar, Asia Seven and Hahn’s Kitchen have very quickly become the restaurants of choice for the customer segment targeted by Amit. ‘But running a restaurant business is extremely hard work, and people don’t realize it,’ says Amit.
Hard work is something Amit has never shied away from. In fact, it energizes him. He comes from a family that has worked for more than a hundred years to get Dabur placed among the largest fast-moving consumer goods (FMCG) companies in India. ‘I grew up in Delhi. I was used to seeing my dad come back home from work and talk about his day, while we had dinner,’ remembers Amit. The business of Dabur, hence, was very much a part of his growing-up years.
His father, Gyan Chand Burman, was the head of Dabur. G.C. Burman was a pharmacist but he had transformed into an operating businessman when he took charge of the family business. Amit was born in Calcutta, where his family, along with four other Burman families across three generations, lived in their ancestral home. The mansion was called Dabur House and the business at Garia was just a stone’s throw away.
The families had their own living quarters, but they shared a common kitchen and dining area. G.C. Burman used to go to the factory every day. During a labour unrest in the city, he was gherao-ed by his own workers at the factory and the situation turned unpleasant. This prompted Burman’s decision to move to Delhi. He set up a factory in Sahibabad. Over time, G.C. Burman’s brothers relocated to Delhi with their families as well. The new factory, along with the business, thrived and
Dabur became a company headquartered in Delhi. Calcutta’s loss was Delhi’s gain.
Early years in Delhi and the US
Amit studied at St Columba’s School in Delhi while his cousins went to other schools in India and abroad. While he did not go to the factory during his schooldays, he soaked in details about the business at the dining table. These discussions also helped him understand his father’s decision-making processes. For any young boy finishing high school in the mid-eighties, the norm was to become either a doctor or an engineer. Amit’s father also wanted him to study engineering as he believed that it was the future. Amit chose to study industrial engineering in the US. ‘My dad was very happy when he heard about it,’ he says. The days spent at Lehigh University in America gave him an opportunity to understand the theory behind the manufacturing business—his trusted dinner-table companion during his childhood and adolescence.
Four Quotes from M.G. Vassanji’s Novels that will Make you Miss Home
M.G. Vassanji is the author of seven novels, two collections of short stories and two works of non-fiction. He is a widely acclaimed author whose works have won several awards. His novel The Assassin’s Song was shortlisted for the Giller Prize, the Governor General’s Prize, the Writers Trust Award, and India’s Crossword Prize.
Here are 4 quotes by M.G. Vassanji that will make you feel homesick.
Aren’t these words heartwarming?