this ain't a love song

today am thinking about nationalism. rather have been for a while now, especially about two months ago with elections et al. I think its a rather taken for granted emotion and it could be quite a fiery one, sometimes flaring up at "wrong" times.

Two or three things have got me really thinking about nationalism. and what it really means to be part of a country. and if you are living in a country that is yours, can you still refuse to acknowledge it because of the things you think it stands for? i guess we might think that it is easier to take a stance when you are a citizen of a "rogue nation" (whatever that might be). But once in a while there comes a time when you have to question what you stand for when you are considered part of a group.

So there have been unfinished and not completely convincing conversations about nationalism and patriotism. however (and maybe I say this because i really don't understand the emotion) there seems to be an imbalance in that thought. for example, what does nationalism even mean in a country like ours? India is a so vast and diverse that each indian has his or her own individual little india. So then what does the Entire construct of India, in the political/geographical sense actually mean? or perhaps that's just it: each person - when it comes to any nation - should just hold on to what their idea of their country might be. if it works for them, they are a nationalist and if it doesn't they are one of those complainers who say "i hate this country". of course there's a spectrum of other stages in between these two extremes.

so yes there are some things that really disturb me about India and i don't mean potholes and powercut. yes, those are problems too but of an entirely different nature. what disturbs me most right now are individuals' own unwillingness to accept or overwillingness to reject people who are different from them.

It was great that Article 377 (a law that criminalizes homosexuality in India) got overturned by the high court (02/07/09). Much too late of course... but better late than never. but immediately there are a hundred people jumping up and saying this is against our culture. sure... it may be if you are stubbornly going to choose to look at it that way but in a country whose religious and cultural traditions have been built from listening to stories about characters like amba (the transgender in mahabharat who eventually helps kill bhishm), mohini (vishu in female form; rumored to be very beautiful and if i remember right he/she has fathered/mothered a chlld). and lets not forget the few years when Arjun was in hiding, dressed as a woman. so clearly the cultural argument really doesn't work here.

but beyond that, these people who are so quick to jump to the defense of indian culture never seem to do that where it matters. As far as I know ragging is not Indian culture but no one seems care about that. Torturing youngsters who want an education, am sure, was not part our gurukuls. The same goes for raping children and women in war zones - or anywhere. how come talk of culture comes up only when the argument is hollow? why does the entire country have to carry the weight of being narrow-minded because those in power can't think beyond themselves?

So here's my anxiety about nationalism: When I call myself Indian, am i supporting all this? Am i supporting all these unspeakable crimes against human rights? if India is one "thing" then whatever the country does, we all are part of and have to take responsibility for.

I don't want to part of these things that I can't relate to or understand - and thank God for that.

I remember the exact moment when my sense of "nationalism" crumpled. It was after hearing the news about two women who were raped in Kashmir by a whole army camp. It was not the first such instance but somehow hearing it from someone I know, instead of on the news, really shot a hole through me (no pun intended). But what shocked me more is that the nation only wants to talk about militants and bombs. but where does 'truth' in all of this go? Doesn't it matter what happens to people in our own country? And if it doesn't, then what is this great civilization that we are talking about?

Some might say I am taking this too seriously (but I know I am not)and that every country has these problems. Sure, why not? But that isn't an excuse.

My question is if my country Also stands for atrocities and injustice, how can I label myself an Indian without saying that I agree and am part of this?

Which brings me back to the concept of a scattered India. An individual India. A developing or enriching or shining India. Each one of us in our cozy corners can choose what we want to believe about here and anywhere else. It might be a convenient escape rather than facing the demons out there. But there has to be some compromise. And this one seems to be the best way out.

Having said that though, separate from the concept of nationhood (in fact a step Ahead of nationhood), some things are wrong no matter where it happens and who it happens to. So the injustices here and everywhere else, as a human being, I can't wash my hands off by saying "this is not my problem".

reading woes

standing in front of shri kalyanji temple in Diggi (a few hours away from Jaipur) I realized I am indeed illiterate. Carved into the stone wall of the temple was the history of the temple. The person who accompanied me to the place waved his hand affectionately towards the writing and said "everything you want to know about the temple is written here".

I stare blankly at the wall... pretending to read what looked like gibberish to me.

This experience of not being able to read is not new to me. In fact, I've spent the majority of my life in a country where I couldn't read the local language. But I had never felt that to be a handicap. Or more so, a fact about me that I was embarrassed to admit to someone else.

Later we sat at restaurant and a menu in Hindi was placed in front of me. My colleagues insisted that I decide what we'll have for lunch. Once again i started at the menu. Thankfully, my numerous visits to restaurants like these had given me a good idea of the kind of names that should appear on a menu.

"anything is fine" I squeaked out sheepishly. What must have seemed like shyness or some sort of politeness was actually just inability to read the menu. I was surprised at my own hesitation to just tell them things as they are... after all its not just a big deal. right?

Later on, i realized it was not so much admitting that I do not read Hindi rather than the assumption that I do read it that made it so difficult speak up. One might say, and i do so believe often enough, that i have enough excuse for not reading Hindi. At least I read my own mother tongue. Yes, I smatter through it... but at least...

Perhaps thats where nationhood comes in. Not knowing Thai never bothered me but I can't seem to hold the same perspective towards Hindi. It's all the more ironic considering the nature of my work and many inferences during all these trips to education and literacy.

Of course the space between realization and action still remains. Two books lie dustily on some shelf somewhere around the house. Both promise to make me proficient in Hindi.

The change has been that in the past few days I've remembered that those books exist and have in some way been convinced that its time i put them into use. Maybe thats the blessing Kalyanji's bestowed on me: a flicker of who I should be, now that I am here.