A Homage to a Historian of Faith

The following article appeared in the online publication South Asia Post, Issue 92 Vol IV, July 31, 2009

When I was at school in the final 10th class, a missionary teacher from far off New Zealand had arrived in Punjab in the hot summer of 1958 to teach in a school located at less than 100 km from my school - wish I had known him then! The Destiny, surely, keeps its own mysterious calendar and scheme of events to happen!

It was on 22nd January, 2002 that I received a phone call in Yerevan, capital of Armenia, where I had spent more than two years as the first resident Ambassador of India. The call was from Director in the office of Foreign Secretary, Mrs Chokila Iyer. He conveyed to me, in an excited tone, that 'she has been successful in getting me posted as High Commissioner to New Zealand' and that I should 'coordinate with Wellington to reach there as early as possible'. I was, in fact, getting reconciled to brave extra period in Armenia. I had, of course, represented to the Foreign Secretary putting on record that I had been given to understand by the Ministry that my posting in ' that tightly-locked-mythological-land of Noah's Ark ' would be for two years. The news was indeed most welcome and a hugely pleasant surprise. It was not that I was feeling miserable in the legendary land of Koh-e-Kaaf but it was the tyranny of Time for me: the date of retirement had started staring me in the face! The three names I should be privileged to meet in New Zealand flashed in my mind - the Everest hero Sir Edmund Hillary; the architect of new India-New Zealand relations, former Prime Minister David Lange and a relatively lesser known to me, Professor William Hewat McLeod, the once-upon-a-time teacher in Kharar - now a prized suburb of Chandigarh - who had earned international reputation as as a historian of the Sikhism, the religion of my people of Punjab. I may, however, admit that I have always felt quite confused whenever I have to fill the column of 'religion' in any form. Though never a strict practitioner of any rituals, I have always felt deeply solaced with the 'spirit' of the Gurubani of Sikhism and have also been drawing an inner comfort and wisdom from broader cosmic tenets of the heritage of Hinduism as per tradition in my family of free thinking scholars with saintly pretensions.

From left: Prof. McLeod, Aradhana Anand, Margaret McLeod

It was on 18th August 2002 that my wife, Aradhana and I were destined to enjoy the distinctly serene company Prof W H McLeod & Mrs Margaret Mcleod, in an Indian restaurant in Dunedin, one of the farthest towns on planet from Kharar/Delhi (12,474 km)! Dunedin, capital of New Zealand's southern province of Otago, was founded by Free Church of Scotland in 1848 and given the old name of Scottish capital, is regarded the most Scottish city outside Scotland. It is an important centre of education, being the site of famous Otago University. We had gone there to participate in the cultural evening organised jointly by all the students from South Asia - Indians and Pakistanis in the forefront - to celebrate the Independence Day of India. Mrs Sukhi (Sukhinder Kaur Gill) Turner, the popular record-third-term Mayor of Dunedin and wife of great Kiwi cricketer Glenn Turner, was our gracious host for our 'City & Sea Darshan (Sight Seeing)'.

McLeods impressed us as 'the made for each other' couple and gentle persons who had genuinely fallen in love with the Punjabis and their dynamic faith. They appeared eager to know more and more about Sikhism and culture of Punjab. Incidentallly, while talking about the social divides among the Sikhs, I mentioned that I had recently read that Professor Puran Singh was an Ahluwalia and that his community had arranged for his going to Japan for higher studies. I noticed that Professor McLeod had immediately noted it down! As an avid collector of books autographed by their authors, I was privileged to receive from Hew copies of, 'Punjabis in New Zealand - A History of Punjabi Migration,1890-1940, GND University, 1986 '; 'Guru Nanak And the Sikh Religion, Clarendon Press, Second imp. 1978' and 'The Evolution of the Sikh Community - Five Essays, OUP, Second Edition,1995 '. The first book contains, a hardly ever known, touching case study of Dr Baldev Singh, a highly qualified medical practitioner and son of eminent Sikh scholar Giani Ditt Singh. Dr Baldev Singh was imprisoned for several years and deported in 1931 under a false case cooked up by the racist local rivals.

Thus began a mutually fruitful and long lasting dialogue between Hew and I. The first one was an almost possessed and indefatigably painstaking scholar scouting all over for impeccable sources of references on Sikh religion; an ever willing listener and keen to cross check with any one interested in the subject. And the other one, myself, is committed to remain completely unencumbered with a burden of any one faith but feeling perfectly at ease with all the faiths of mankind; ever ready to borrow wings of ecstacy offered by the Vedic hymns; Sufi's songs; Bhajans of the Bhakatas; chants in a Buddhist Monastery or a Church of any Christian denomination; serene Silence of Baha'i Lotus Temple and, of course, the rarified musical harmony emanating from the precincts of the Gurdwaras of the faith founded by the Sikh Gurus, sung in the supposed tongue of my mother who had been summoned by Akal Purukh - ' the One Beyond Time ' - before I could learn to utter any syllable!

Prof McLeod paid his last visit to India in December 2002 in connection with the release of his long researched book, 'Sikhs of the Khalsa, A Study of the Khalsa Rahit (The Code of Belief & Conduct of the Khalsa)'. Khushwant Singh, the unique ' human monument ' of the capital of Hindustan, who wears his Sikh faith in all the hues Vahiguru (Praise to the Guru) has created this universe for 'Sarbatt ka Bhala' i.e. Welfare of the Whole Humanity, had addressed the function. Among his other public engagements, Mcleod had delivered the 3rd Bhai Chanan Singh Memorial Lecture on ' Sikhs in New Zealand ' at the prestigious Sikh Centre, Bhai Vir Singh Sahit Sadan. It is worth mentioning that this lecture has been endowed by late Prof Pritam Singh of Patiala in honour of his father who had fallen a victim of a clash, near Peshawar, of hatred prevailing in 1920's between the Sikhs and an aggressive group of Arya Samajis. A thought provoking condition of this annual lectures is that it would be delivered by some 'non-Sikh' scholar on a subject relating to the Sikhs! When I was invited to deliver this lecture in 2005, I felt like asking myself, 'Am I a non-Sikh?' - the answer was an emphatic 'yes', according to the official 'Rahit', i.e. code of conduct for the Sikhs adopted by the Shiromani Gurdwara Parbandhak Committee! It was, of course, an immensely soul-satisfying experience for me to speak on the topic, ' The Dynamics of the Sikh Diaspora Since Independence ' before an extremely learned audience,mostly the Sikhs. McLeod had appreciated my presentation which I had concluded with a couplet of Urdu:

'Iman bhi hai khatme nabuwwat pe hamara
Mehsoos bhi karten hein payambar ki zaroorat.'

Believers we are in the finality of Prophets
Also we feel the necessity of a (new) Messenger!

I had a great satisfaction that I could arrange, during this visit, McLeod's meeting with Mr Navtej Sarna, an erudite Indian Foreign Service colleague and most promising author who was then spokesperson of Ministry of External Affairs (Presently India's Ambassador to Israel). I do hope that this encounter of two different generations of highly scholarly minds must have been a deeply mutually rewarding experience. I hope Navtej would one day be be able to steal time to write about McLeod as a Historian of Sikhism. My innings in New Zealand was of limited 20-overs kind, cut shorter by the 'rain' of calendar. I could meet the McLeods for the last time on 29th June, 2003 when I visited Dunedin to participate in a Seminar called, '38th University of Otago Foreign Policy School, The Ethics of Foreign Policy'. Hew & Margaret invited me for an evening meal at their lovely home located next to the Dunedin Gardens, with a stream flowing by. I was pleasantly surprised to be served with the typically homely Indian preparations. During my tenure as High Commissioner in New Zealand, I had launched - the first ever and also to be the last till date - a publication of the High Commission titled, 'Megh Raajdootam i.e. The Cloud Envoy'. McLeod graciously accepted my request for contribution of an article which I was glad to publish in the August 2003 issue of Megh Raajdootam under the title, ' Punjab - Discovering Faith in History ' dwelling on their stay in Kharar and Batala between 1968 - 1969, later to be a part in his forthcoming book, ' Discovering the Sikhs - Autobiography of a Historian '. I took the liberty of editing half a sentence of this article!

After retirement from Indian Foreign Service in December 2003 which involved a consecutive stay abroad for the last more than 21 years, it took some time for us to settle down in Delhi to do what I had told my old friends, 'All is in the hand of the Hidden Hand ... but I would try to do in the remaining silver years of life what I had always wanted to do i.e. the three R's - reading, reflecting and hopefully writing too!'. The contact with Hew was renewed in the context of an interview by him titled, 'Demanding Work Seeking the Sikhs' carried by Otago Daily Times, Weekend, February 26-27, 2005, sent to me by a mutual friend, Dunedin based young Indian lecturer of Management Studies, Mr Anupam Shailaj. The interviewer had observed that, "However careful they are, when historians attempt to separate historical certainty from enveloping religious traditions they find themselves embroiled in a hornet's nest". McLeod had spoken about 'a life time of research and analysis into the history of the Sikhs and the controversy it sparked', adding, "I insist on the necessity of finding sources that are reliable ... Sikh have been brought up on tradition ... tradition is not historical ... it is upsetting to believers, but what does one do? ... What I have done and what I am saying, it is in print not personal..". Referring to McLeod's 16 books and numerous articles, and editing and translation of many works on Sikhism, it was stated in the interview that 'the campaign to discredit his work - led by a small group of Sikhs, escalated after 1984 ... this campaign of abuse now appears to have mostly died down ... '. Honestly, I had not been exactly aware of the nature and the Sikh diasporic dimensions of any controversial elements attributed to McLeod's writings - and that his work has been raised to the level of 'McLeodian', an adjective, used by one of his critics!

I had noticed Hew's frail physical appearance, but his robust intellect and alertness of the mind did not reveal any sign of a failing health. It was in a message of 19th March, 2006 that Hew wrote about his being diagnosed with multiple myeloma ' which is incurable bone morrow cancer '. He had added, " the fact that it is incurable does not mean, however, that I have to bid good bye to this life immediately. ... and in the last two three years the treatment has taken large strides ... I am now on regular thalidomide and I feel absolutely normal. My aim is to last at least 15 more years which will make me 88!" Hew & Margaret, in a communication to friends on the eve of Christmas of 2006, further revealed, "There's nothing much to tell you this year. Margaret is fine and in Hew's case, the cancer appears to be under control ... We lead a quiet and regulated life, walking down to our favorite cafe for coffee every afternoon ... and that is how things are for us. It's not a bad life, really quite good in fact."

I continued to exchange occasional messages with Hew on matters relating to Panth ( Sikh Community ) and other notable developments in Punjab. When I did not receive any response from him to my messages of news reports on the recent tragic violence in a Ravidas Temple in Vienna and its reaction in Punjab, I thought he might have been busier with the family or lazier during strong southern winter. Then came the message from Margaret & family on 21st July that, ' Hew passed away peacefully last night .' The funeral took place on 24th July at Ross Chapel at Knox College where Hew had set out on his epic journey in search of a meaningful research in the world of History ... destined to make history of a vibrant and uniquely distinct microscopic minority - the Sikhs of Punjab - the work of his life time. Rest in peace, O child of history, amen!

Hew would have loved the following to be quoted to him:

Falsehood gets dissipated, O Nanak,
And, Truth ultimately prevails.
- Guru Nanak, Ramkali Var,13.2 Shri Guru Granth Sahib, p. 953

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Further reference on Prof. McLeod:

• National Library of New Zealand
• OCLC WorldCat
• Google Books
• Megha Raajdootam, August 2003: Punjab - Discovering Faith in History, by W H McLeod
• Asia Downunder documentary on Hew McLeod, Sikh Historian
  • Part 1
  • Part 2
  • Part 3
  • Part 4

Indian Foreign Service - Pride & Fall

The following article appeared in the online publication South Asia Post, Issue 91 Vol IV, July 15, 2009


The announcement on the 30th of June that Smt. Nirupama (Menon) Rao, the topper of 1973 Batch of IFS, will be the next Foreign Secretary has been receiving a wider media coverage in the context of 'Women on Top' in India in the 1st decade of 21st century. Interestingly, Smt. Meira Kumar who had emerged earlier during the month a surprise but a competent choice to be the first woman Speaker of Lok Sabha also belonged to the same batch of IFS. It is also worth recall that Sh. Mohammad Hamid Ansari who, as Vice President of the Republic, is the Chair Person of Rajya Sabha had a distinguished career joining the IFS in 1961. It is indeed a rare credit to the IFS that, perhaps, for the first time in the history of the service Washington, London, Moscow, Paris Canada, Bonn, Brussels are all currently headed by the serving IFS officers.

The winds blowing from Raisina Heights towards India Gate whisper that the former Speaker Somnath Chatterjee will succeed High Commissioner Shiv Shankar Mukherjee in London ('71 IFS) who is due to retire next month. Born on 1st Aug 1949, Shiv Mukherjee,the topper in the IAS, has the distinction of being the youngest ever to join the service - a candidate has to be at least 21 years on 1st of August in the year in which he appears in the IAS Etc. Examination!

Smt. Nirupama Rao, the 17th Foreign Secretary - the second to be a woman - from the regular IFS Examination, will serve till December 2010. The posts of Cabinet/Home/Defence Secretaries have been given, a couple of years back, a fixed minimum tenure of two years. The Ministry of External Affairs has been luckier, after short spells of just thirteen, seventeen and eight months respectively by the three consecutive Foreign Secretaries, to have Shri Shyam Sharan and Shri Shiv Shankar Menon - the two most decent individuals & outstanding diplomats of proven professionalism - at the helm of affairs with clear tenures of two year plus period. The IFS fraternity hopes and prays that Nirupama will be able to provide an understanding and inspirational leadership to her colleagues during the challenging times which also offer a range of opportunities for India as a significant player in the recession ridden international arena and a troubled neighbourhood.

The prologue of the two tributary paragraphs brings us,ironically, to an intriguing and seemingly baffling situation concerning the IFS. It came out in the open with a report in the Hindustan Times on 23rd of June. The report quoted Sh. Ajai Chaudhary, the Dean of the Foreign Service Institute, that out of the 19 IFS probationers of 2008 batch, six had made the cut at the civil service exams with Hindi as their first language and having answered their papers in Hindi. The Dean added that, for the first time, arrangements were being made to teach English to those probationers who were weak in English. The report has ignited a lively and fiery debate among the past and present IFS colleagues about several overall aspects of the IFS, foremost being the steep sliding down of the service among the preference of the candidates in the higher bracket of merit list. In 2008 batch, out of the first 20, only two - ranked 16 & 17 - have opted for IFS; only 7 have opted between 18 to 138 ranks. The ranks for the OBC (4), SC (4) & ST (1) have ranged between 139 to 511. To add insult to the injured pride of the IFS, a couple of candidates are understood to have represented to the UPSC that they should be permitted to reappear in the civil services examination to 'improve upon' their allotted service i.e. IFS! Some thoughtful seniors are convinced that time has indeed come that a separate examination should be conducted by the UPSC for the IFS like the other specialised services

All this brings back the memories of my batch of 1971 - numbers 1, 2, 4, 6, 7, 10, 12, 13 out of a list of 84 had opted for IFS. The folklore of IFS being considered 'superior & sought after' include two cases of those who qualified for IAS in '66 but did not join and competed successfully again to join IFS next year. The celebrated case is that of Hon. Minister Kapil Sibal who twice qualified for IAS but but did not join because his heart was set on IFS. The IAS as the inheritor of the ICS & IFS having a partial functional linkage with the political/external wings of the ICS had their initial grooming respectively under the indomitable Sardar Patel & a more enduring role of Jawaharlal Nehru. The evolution of the entire culture of functioning of the institutions bureaucratic structures of the nation has witnessed over the years stresses and strains born of a continuous decline in values of political morality and accountability. The IFS has been viewed comparatively lesser exposed to certain types of undesirable pressures .The other services are understood to offer to those interested a net work of opportunities for, what could be euphemistically called, 'to feather ones own nest'. More on this complex & larger issue later.

Let me return to my own story of the IFS. I received a letter dated 7th May '71 from Under Secretary B. Narasimhan, Department of Personnel, Cabinet Secretariat stating that, 'on the results of the Combined Competitive Examination held in 1970, you have been recommended by the UPSC for appointment to the IAS/IFS ... you are requested to inform this Department immediately ... whether you would accept an offer of appointment..'. I immediately sent my letter of acceptance, Registered A.D. and anxiously awaited the next next communication of the GOI. Came the last week of June ... a friend in the neighbouring town who had qualified for the IAS told me that he had received a letter to join at the National Academy of Administration in Mussourie on 10th of July; he innocently added, "may be you are to be posted abroad and it would take some more time!".

In the first week of July, I decided to visit Delhi to make a personal enquiry. I was told that the 'Police Clearance' from all places where I had stayed for the last five years was still to be received. I recalled that a Police Sub Inspector had visited my father some days back to congratulate him and was offered Laddoos. I could speak on phone to my IAS friend who had been transferred from Bathinda to the Home Department in Chandigarh. He assured me that he would have clearances sent for my stay in Jalandhar and Bathinda. All sorts of thoughts crossed my mind...started thinking that I used to be friendly with comrades of Nawan Zamana in Jalandhar & Naxalite Prof Harbhajan Singh in Bathinda. I had also once given five Rupees donation to Comrade Harnam Singh 'Chamak', a popular elderly Communist leader of my area. I had told him that I have become a Lecturer in Govt College Bathinda and he, taking me in his affectionate embrace, had said, "Barhi Khushi hai; Pher tan Party di vi kujh chande naal madat karo ... [I am so happy; then you must help the Party with some donation ...]". The 'CID' was certainly the first abbreviation learnt by my generation of school children!

On 9th July 1971, I could speak again, with the help of my school friend who was engineer in the Telephone Department at Ludhiana, to Under Secretary B. Narsimhan. He said that all the Police Clearances have been received and that I should talk to Sh. Sethi, Under Secretary (FSP), in Ministry of External Affairs. Sh. Sethi told me that I should immediately depart to join the Foundation Course in the National Academy of Administration, Mussourie. The next morning, I submitted an application to the Principal, Goverment College, Karamsar to relieve me to join the duties in Mussourie as per the telephonic advice. Principal RG Bajpai,a proud product of early forties of Allahabad University remarked that I should have got myself relieved much earlier .He wished me good luck saying,'You would do well in your job..., but would be very, very cautious in your work'. The same evening I had to rush to board a train at Ludhiana for Hardwar ,on way to Mussourie via Dehradun. My father came to see me off at Ludhiana & a school teacher friend accompanied me upto Hardwar.I was feeling overwhemed with complex & contrasting emotions ... on way to a whole new world, strange and exciting but also full of anxieties of the unknown ... to be reflected upon in the next column.

An Unusual Entrant in the Indian Foreign Service

The following article appeared in the online publication South Asia Post, Issue 90 Vol IV, June 30, 2009

I have narrated in the previous column how I had undertaken my maiden journey to the capital of India in June 1969 primarily to equip myself for the preparation of Indian Administrative Service Etc., Examination, now more popularly called the Civil Services Examinations. While going around in Delhi, I 'discovered' that the route to the realization of the IAS Dream was physically located via Shahjahan Road, one of the eleven roads terminating at (or emanating from) the outer circle of India Gate.

The address of Dholpur House, the Office of the Union Public Service Commission, Post Box No 186, New Delhi-11, an impressive annular shaped building, which once belonged to the rulers of a smaller state of Rajasthan, had got registred in my mind more than a decade earlier when I had filled up the form of the National Defence Academy Examination in February 1959. It was a great satisfaction for me to qualify the written NDA Examination with excellent marks in General Knowledge. I had, however, a greater satisfaction resulting from my being able to defy and convince my father and his friends that I did not feel myself to be cut out for a career in the military service and, therefore, it would be better for me not to attend the interview to be conducted in Meerut Cantt. by the Services Selection Board!

It was an altogether different experience, with all the attendant hopes and fears, that I arrived in Dholpur House in the morning of 25th of March, 1971 "to present myself at the Commission's Office ... for the purpose of Personality Test to be coducted by the Union Public Service Commission". We, a group of four candidates, were welcomed by a smiling and polite official who escorted us to fill a few forms including the one for reimbursement of 'journeys by rail ... restricted to single Second Class (Mail) railway fare by the shortest route to the place of interview ... '. We were also shown a circular of information about the Indian Foreign Service that the candidates considering to opt for the Indian Foreign Service must be prepared to serve in any place in the world and that facilities for English medium education for children might not be available in a large number of places of posting. I was the second person to be called in for the interview. I was wearing a cream colour trouser, tucked-in white shirt and a cream colour tie having a small bluish design at the knot This tie was given to me by a friend who said that he had spent Rupees 1.50 to buy it!

It may be mentioned that we,the candidates, had been explained that Shri R.C.S. Sarkar was presiding over the Interview Board and that he was assisted by four other members, namely, Major General (Retd) P.C. Gupta & S. Balbir Singh IP(Retd) on his right, while Sh R.G. Rajwade IFS(Retd) and Prof K. Venkatachari were seated on his left side. The conversation, during my interview, started with reference to the news of the previous day ie the address by President V.V. Giri to the joint session of the of the Indian Parliament. I recall that I had referred to the 'stentorian' (the word Maj Gen Gupta had liked) voice of the President who had underlined the high expectations of the poor people. Chairman Sarkar had further asked me about the case of dispute over election symbol between the two groups of Congress to which I had replied that in a mature democracy issues to be fought for should be about policies and not symbols. He also asked me about the consecutive extensions of provision of reservations for Scheduled Castes & Tribes. I think that I had replied saying that the progress in over all social development particularly education was more important and had quoted the example of Dalit leader B.P. Maurya who had recently defeated a poweful Jan Sangh candidate Prakash Vir Shastri from the general seat of Hapur. S Balbir Singh asked me about the college in Karamsar where I was a lecturer and this brought the references by me to reformer Sikh saints Karam Singh of Hoti Mardan & his disciple Sant Ishar Singh of Rarewale. The latter had been instrumental in having the college estabilished by facilitating donation of building and land. There was also a reference to the Nawabs of Maler Kotla and I was glad to dwell on the history of the only Muslim state in East Panjab. I could not reply to a few questions asked by Sh. Rajwade about the recent political developments in Fiji.

I thought that I had done reasonably well in in the written as well as in the interview. The result placed me in the range high enough to opt for Indian Foreign Service. It was on the 10th day after the declaration of result that an old school friend who had become an engineer in the telephone department at Ludhiana made it possible for me to speak to another old friend who had joined IAS and was posted as Additional Deputy Commissioner at Bathinda. When I asked about his advice about IFS, he said that I should opt for it without a second thought. He explained that pressures and interferences of third rate politicians were fast destroying the administration. I immediately sent a telegram revising my 1st preference to IFS from IAS - the rest became, what they say, history! That extraodinary run of events would be shared with the readers in the following columns!

Views from India Gate

The following article appeared in the online publication South Asia Post, Issue 89 Vol IV, June 15, 2009

THE long story of human civilisation is so often told with references to the rise and fall of so many magnificent cities encircled by their mighty walls and glorious gates. Delhi, the mythological and historical capital of Hindustan, has also its most precious heritage of ancient & modern landmarks including walls and gates.

India Gate, which has become the most popular picnic place for Delhi-wallahs and visitors to the city, was inaugurated in 1931 as one of the largest war monuments commemorating the 90,000 soldiers of the erstwhile British army who fell in the Afghan Wars and the 1st World War.

The monument has added, under its arch, the shrine of Amar Jawan Jyoti - the Flame of Immortal Warrior of India - in the wake of the brilliant victory in the war of Bangla Desh in December 1971. It was unveiled by 'Durga' Indira Gandhi, on January 26, 1972.

Standing near this 42 meter lofty and stately structure, one can not only enjoy a vast panoramic view of Rashtrapati Bhawan and other splendid government buildings but may also feel mysteriously overwhelmed by thoughts about the past, present and future of India!

I can vividly recall my own 'historic maiden' visit to the city of India Gate. It was Monday, 16th of June, 1969. I had boarded a bus from Chandigarh, the brand new & city-beautiful which had become, like all the most beautiful creations, 'an apple of discord' within a decade of the departure of its architect, Le Corbusier. The bus journey of about six hours on the most historic G.T. Road seemed to have spanned for me the full spectrum of the glories & humiliations!

My well prepared mission of visit to the capital of the country was to see the much read-about places of historical and cultural significance, visit major book shops to buy various standard books for preparations of I.A.S. etc. examination - now popularly called the Civil Services Exams. I was also curious to know as much as possible about the daily life in a big city. I had been a lecturer in college for about three years but was basically a tiny-town young man with all the hesitations and fears of a stranger about the big unknown places.

My young friend and host - he had just turned twenty and had been less than six weeks in his service as a junior librarian in Ministry of Defence - had given me ample advice in the letter (no easy facility of telephone in those days) on taking, firstly, the local bus Route No. 16 upto Najaf Garh (now made famous as home area of cricketer Virender Sehwag) and then another local bus for Rajouri Garden to reach House No J8/67. I committed no mistake and all turned out to fine except that the sun was shining at its burning best - who knew or cared in those days about the degree of Celsius!

I spent a week in Delhi & frequented the Connaught Place on several days. The most celebrated Coffee House in the large middle circle indeed appeared something unique with crowds of people engaged in animated discussions over rounds of coffee. I was delighted to say hello to eminent Panjabi writer Devinder Sathyarathi who was easily recognisable for his being look-like of Rabindranath Tagore look. The various bookshops - Galgotias, Peoples, Atma Ram and few in Shankar Market - all seemed sufficiently well stocked. We used to take the shared six seater motor cycle for going to Chandni Chowk. Apart from Prauthian Wali Gali, we spent more time on the Nai Sarak, known for cheaper and second hand books.

On Sunday, 22nd of June, 1969, my friend & I went to the newly opened cinema Vivek in Patel Nagar. The just released film, Heer Ranjha, of Chetan Anand, was being shown. There was big rush for tickets. We thought that there was no chance for us to get the tickets. Meanwhile, Ravinder Dhand, a senior in the school of my small town, was seen by me going towards office of the cinema and I called him. He was very happy to see me and asked how I was there. On being told that we two friends, had come see the film, he said, "no problem" adding that the owner of that new cinema had yet to pay him for the bricks supplied . We were soon taken inside the cinema hall & enjoyed the film, free of cost! It may be added that several Lalas of our our town had shifted to Delhi for the Brick Kiln business. The student who failed in school would be made what was called B.M.S.O., i.e. Building Material Supply Officer in Delhi!!

As per the dictates of destiny, I joined the Indian Foreign Service and did return to Delhi in Nov '71 after doing the Foundation Course at the National academy of Administration, Mussourie. Meanwhile, I had found my life partner in Delhi itself and stayed all along in the Ministry of External Affairs Hostel, Kasturba Gandhi Marg, with India Gate Lawns at morning walk distance.

After a stay of four years in Delhi, we were posted abroad for about five years. On return, we were again lucky to get accommodation near India Gate for two years and a few months. It was later, after a long twenty one years innings abroad in seven different countries, that on return, we again stayed for six months in the Ministry of External Affairs Hostel, resuming for the last time our walks to India Gate.

Long last in May 2004, we moved in our own 4th floor apartment in Mayur Vihar in East Delhi across Nizamuddin Bridge. We are blessed with a view of large open areas of Yamuna, the new landmark of Akshardham Temple and the fast coming up village of Commonwealth Games 2010. The new bridges on Yamuna and several fly-overs in the area have qualitatively facilitated the flow of traffic to destinations around India Gate.

The Metro Revolution has been turning the capital into a different city - Engineer E. Sridharan would go down, along with E. Lutyens, as the greatest builder in the modern history of the city. For us, Metro is at a road-crossing distance. The Mother Dairy shops for milk/vegetables, Indraprastha Gas Company for piped cooking gas & Metro for travel indeed define a triple world of happiness & satisfaction for Delhi-zens who still face serious lack of several basic public services including acute shortage of water and power.

Having cast my vote, the first ever time for Delhi Assembly, and after a gap of 42 years for the Parliament of the country from the Delhi East Constituency, Delhi would seem to have at last claimed me as one its citizens. When friends ask, how is life going on in Delhi in Silver years, I reply that the level of happiness of a retired public servant in Delhi would seem to depend on the convenience and time taken to reach the area of India Gate - the libraries, cultural centres, theatre/exhibition halls, clubs, the vast open lawns are all located in the vicinity of Gate!

To quote the most famous 'human-monument' of Delhi, S. Khushwant Singh,

"I can tell you that there is as much to love about the city as there is to loathe."

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Happy New Year 2009

Ahmed Faraz - an ‘Un-Partitioned’ poet

with Ahmed Faraz, October 1994, Islamabad

AFTER joining the Indian Foreign Service in 1971 and allotment of Persian as the language to be learnt – and there by learning Urdu by proxy – during training period, I had been keenly entertaining hope to be posted to Pakistan at an early or middle stage of my career. The dominant deeper thought-impulse was to undergo the intimate experience of the special circumstances of being among the people who became ‘Foreigners’ for Indians by an unprecedented man-made tsunami of human history.

The opportunity to serve in Pakistan came my way in 1992 when I had least expected it. ...

... It was a chance 'poetic encounter' in Islamabad club with Ahmed Faraz which made my two year plus posting a rewarding experience of enduring friendship. I had walked across to him, 'Faraz Sahib!...Main sifart-e-Hind mein Naya Naib Safir hun' without a moment's hesitation, he embraced me, saying, 'aap se tou bahut baaten aur mulakaaten honi chahiye!’ And a friendship forever was forged.
...

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Humanistic roots of Islam

A Tribute to Shri A.J. Zaidi

  At the function with the Vice President of India, Shri M. Hamid Ansari

HAVING spent my childhood years in the village and later growing up in a town, both located in the closer vicinity of Malerkotla, the only princely state in the East Punjab ruled for centuries by the Muslim Nawabs, I had started wondering and pondering since long over the harmonies and divides between the Hindus and Muslims. The small state of Malerkotla had remained comparatively immune from the mindless violence during the Partition of the country. I have a vivid memory of an inscription, intact in 1951 but decimated soon after, of the name of Nawab Iftikhar Ali Khan on the front wall of the Gurdwara in Ahmedgarh for his donation of Rs. 500.00 – it must have been a princely sum in those days ! I had instinctively developed a faith in the mutual accommodation among faiths long before I was destined to be an Indian diplomat in Iran, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan and Maldives!!

This is a prologue to my tribute to late Ali Jawad Zaidi (1916-2004) who embodied for me the highest virtues of all the faiths of mankind. It was during the period of my posting to Iran in 1975-78 that I had opportunities of extended interaction with Shri S.A.J. Zaidi who had been posted as a Special Correspondent of All India Radio based in Tehran, covering other countries of the Gulf also. It was my first diplomatic posting, while it was the swan song assignment for Shri Zaidi.

I discovered in Shri Zaidi a thorough gentleman steeped in the composite culture of Awadhi Lucknow. He was soon able to gather around him many talented persons among the recently arrived doctors, engineers and other professionals interested in literature. A regular routine of literary meetings emerged attended by Indians and Pakistanis. Shri Zaidi made extra efforts to engage the Punjabi Sahitya Mandal also. It was his magnetic personality which brought people together for livelier literary sessions, particularly of Urdu, Hindi and Punjabi poetry. All this indeed provided me a rare learning opportunity to witness in action the strength of the composite culture of the sub-continent, notwithstanding the under currents of suspicions and rivalries of the Indo-Pak kind.

Never a person to talk about himself, I could some time engage Shri Zaidi to share some of his first hand experiences during the freedom struggle as a student leader and a poet. He had worked along with other youthful activists for the election in 1939 of Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose as President of the Congress against Pattabhi Sitaramayya, the candidate proposed by Mahatma Gandhi. He told me about the touching experience when Subhas Babu, as the President of the Congress, had himself come to meet the group of students putting up in an ordinary dharamshala in Calcutta for a mid-night session of discussions!

On being pressed to tell if he had ever met Mahatma Gandhi, Zaidi narrated how he and his two other student friends had got late for an appointment with the Mahatma - and received a severe reprimand from Sarojini Naidu. He, nevertheless, could meet the Mahatma during the same week, but did not touch Mahatma's feet like his the two friends accompanying him. After the brief meeting, however, according to Zaidi, his hands unconsciously were at the feet of the Mahatma!

Ali Jawad Zaidi had started with the themes of patriotism and national unity in his early poetry. He had the distinct advantage of knowing Hindi and Sanskrit. He was soon to excel as a scholar and critic also. It was in the fitness of the things that after Independence, he was inducted into the Indian Information Service. He was deputed as Adviser to Bakshi Ghulam Mohammad, the "Prime Minister" of Jammu & Kashmir - he distinguished himself in this position beyond the call of duty by producing admirable works on the literature and culture of Kashmir. He served as the Secretary of the High Powered Committee on Urdu headed by Shri I.K. Gujral. He was also the convenor of the Golden Jubilee Celebrations of the All India Students' Conference held in Lucknow in August 1986.

Shri Zaidi did not rest on his laurels after retirement. Apart from his multifarious responsibilities as Chairperson of the UP Urdu Academy and later as Advisor to the State Govt on National Integration, he wrote, in English, the monumental History of Urdu Literature, published by the Sahitya Academy in 1993. During the sunset years with failing eyesight, he was intensely occupied with the editing of the various versions of Ramayana written in Urdu. It is indeed noteworthy that four scholars have already obtained their PhD degrees for research on the literary works of Shri A. J. Zaidi. It is only appropriate that the Zaidi Foundation has been recently established to propagate literary and philosophical legacy of Zaidi Sahib. A large quantity of manuscripts left behind by him awaits scholarly scrutiny and publishing.

  Shri Ansari releases 'Islami Taraqqui Pasandi'

It was a solemn Function on 15th July, 2008 at his residence when 'Islami Taraqqui Pasandi' i.e., 'Progressivism in Islam' by late Shri A.J. Zaidi was released by the Vice President of India, Shri M. Hamid Ansari. Professor Ilyas Shauqui, the book's editor, highlighted the features of this highly researched and timely book. The former Vice-Chancellor of the Jamia Milia, Shri Shahid Mahadi, recalled his long personal association with Shri Zaidi. He quoted Shri Zaidi's lines:

Yeh To Sach Hai Kar Guzarta Hai, Jo Dil Mein Than Le
Kya Ghalat Hai, Log 'Gar Zaidi Ko Diwana Kahein.
It is indeed true that he does accomplish, whatever he determines to
The people are not wrong if they call Zaidi a crazy fellow!

Shri M. Hamid Ansari, in his thoughtful remarks, observed that the book was a commendable effort in putting the tenets of Islam in proper perspectives. He said that Shri Zaidi has demonstrated a rare capability to explain complex issues. He welcomed the publication of this book of great contemporary relevance.

Dr. A.S. Brar, the Vice-Chancellor of Lucknow University, proposing Vote of Thanks, dwelt on the role of Lucknow University in institutionalizing the memory of its great alumni. He said that there are opportunities in terms of an annual memorial lecture; a chair of national integration in his name; seminars on his seminal literary output etc. He remarked that a healthy competition with other relevant institutions to propagate the invaluable literary legacy of Zaidi Sahib would indeed be welcome.

While enjoying the wonderful company of many friends and admirers of late Zaidi Sahib during the tea following the Function, I was lost in the myriad memories of Shri Zaidi who became a kind of Murshid or a Guru as well as the most admired elderly friend for me. I quote the lines from his poem, 'Ajeeb Tanhaee', penned during his Sojourn in Iran:

Raasta Naapne Wale To Bahut Hain, Lakin
Inmein, Dekhein To Zara, Aabla Paa Kitnein Hain!
The surveyors of path are many
Look, how many of them have blisters under their feet!

Thoughts on Bhagat Singh, Birth Centenary

Bhagat Singh and his comrades-in-arms, Sukhdev and Rajguru have indeed come to symbolize the rarest example of the ultimate supreme sacrifice for the Independence of India ...

In terms of the historic milestones, the year of the birth centenary of Bhagat Singh also commemorates the 150th Anniversary of India’s First War of Independence ...

It is a matter of great satisfaction that Bhagat Singh was not only a voracious reader but also a compulsive writer and a communicator who was at ease writing in English, Hindi and Urdu. ... See article

Book Review: Chhangia Rukh - Dwarfed Tree

* Published in 'Balbir Madhopuri di Svai-jeevni Chhangia Rukh da Sahitak -Samajik Mulankan' - a socio-literary evaluation of Balbir Madhopuri's autobiography

An Autobiography By Balbir Madhopuri

A Critical Appraisal and an Overview : Baal Updesh Anand

This bare, bold and tragically-touching beautiful literary creation of the autobiographical kind, first published as a book under the above title in January, 2003, has been receiving a wider appreciative acclaim of the select top critics and the limited but cultivated readership of the Punjabi literature. The fact that the book has already run into two hard back and three paper back editions is indeed a great news which should cheer up all those who are always complaining about the vaporous nature of the readership of Punjabi language. The poetic title of the autobiography – Madhopuri made his literary debut with an anthology of poems titled, ‘A Tree of Desert’ (1992) to be followed by ‘The Smouldering Underworld’ (1998) – could, perhaps, be faulted by a Botanist but it does pinpoint the deep deprivations and corroding compulsions encountered by an Indian born an Untouchable in a landless family in rural India – here in a comparatively progressive State of Punjab – even decades after Independence and adoption as law of the land of the noblest Constitution crafted by Dr. B.R. Ambedkar, the greatest thinker-emancipator in the history of mankind.

It may indeed be educative to note how the Untouchables have undergone significant transformations since the scriptural Shudra / Achhuth / Bahishkrit; socio-economic Depressed classes; Gandhian Harijans; Secular and constitutional Scheduled Castes till the contemporary nomenclature of the Dalits, echoing daring defiance, political protest, solidarity with all the oppressed in the world, particularly the Black in the U.S.A. It is mainly since the sixties of the twentieth century that, in practical parlance, the word Dalit becomes an explosive catchword for social, cultural and political revolutionary movements launched by untouchable castes, essentially the Mahars, in such expressions as “Dalit literature” and “Dalit Movement”. The period was to witness an eruption of many luminous minds – hitherto branded ‘the lowest’ in the Hindu social dispensation – in powerful literary outbursts challenging the social & cultural value system. The ‘Dalithood’ has signalled its arrival as an ideology: its literary reach has been spreading to all the languages in India. While the poetry and short stories with the ‘Dalit’ themes have been in the forefront, it is the Dalit autobiographies which have created waves and with their translations in Hindi and English; they have led to literary discourses at not only the national but international level also. The Dalit autobiographies ought to be studied ‘as an authentic source of Dalit Cultural identity as well as an attempt to re-inscribe Dalit identity in positive, self-assertive terms.’

In the opening chapter, ‘The Rationale of a Dwarfed Tree’, Balbir Madhopuri is disarmingly candid in explaining the idea of the writing of this autobiography and the genesis of this book of deeply personal and intensely closer encounters and experiences of the life of the ‘Dalit kind,’ Intriguingly, he was ‘provoked’ – rather than inspired – and even challenged to attempt a better piece of writing than the one he was belittling, elaborating on the pains, privations and the dehumanizing realities attendant upon the Dalits. He further adds how the real-life portrait, ‘My Grandmother – a History’ was first published in the eminent Punjabi monthly of the yester-years, Aarsi, in Dec., 1997 by the generous patriarch publisher Bhapa Pritam Singh who also promised to publish the full autobiography. Madhopuri also acknowledges that the words of encouragement and appreciation by the well-known Punjabi writer Ajit Cour became a source of inspiration for the 42 years old budding poet-author who, although a lower – middle rung official of the Govt. of India, started receiving recognition in the ‘big-complex- literally-world’ of the capital of the country as an author with a ‘distinct point of view’. The author, in the opening remarks of the book, has painstakingly pointed out how he had to, as if, “unfold” his “self”, layer by layer; enter into a deeper dialogue with “self” : searching for the ‘identity’ of the ‘self’ and attempt to make up his mind to ‘write down all that’. He further admits, “Believe me, when I would read what I had myself put down on paper, tears would trickle down my eyes and I would feel choked”. The author confesses that he had to pause a while, reading what had been written, thinking ‘what horrible indignities my forefathers must have endured!’ A few more autobiographical articles were published later in the other important literary magazines of Punjabi – more accolades from the leading Punjabi writers followed, ‘it is nice that you are writing, focussing on this topic i.e. Dalithood – so far it has been an ‘unploughed’ field (in Punjabi)’. There were also a few doubting Thomases suggesting that it was, perhaps, too early in life and that there were not enough literary or personal attainments justifying a full length autobiography. The dilemma of all these factors coupled with sheer shortage of time, according to the author, caused a delay of almost five years for the publication of the book under reference.

The author states in clear terms that the events elaborated in the autobiography are ‘one hundred per cent true’ and even the names of characters have been retained in their popular nomenclatures – ‘imagination has been brought into play, more to carry forward the sequence of conversations and to maintain the contexts’. The author further underlines that he did not to make any special effort to ‘build up the typical atmosphere of the rural life (of Doaba region of Punjab) and that the purpose of writing the autobiography had become quite clear in his mind – ‘to make the contemporary and the generations to come to be fully aware of the stark realism of the heritage of the dire poverty and excesses at every step in the lives of the Dalit community’. The author wonders why the progressive intellectuals have mostly chosen to remain aloof and do not raise their voice against the ‘conspiracies’ against the Dalits. He describes the writing of the autobiography ‘as one of the bricks in the foundation of the edifice of the structure of efforts to make the socio-economic transformation a reality’.

It will be more purposeful to attempt an overview of the text of the book before discussing its literary merits and limitations. The opening chapter titled, ‘The Land of my Birth – Madhopur’ introduces the reader with the geography, topography, folk history and the overall environment of the region situated in the catchments area of river Beas joining the Sutlej at the edge of District of Kapurthala. The author takes the reader on a socio-economic survey trip of Madhopur in District Jalandhar with the help of verifiable official documents and other land marks, ‘the first double-sided village well was dug up in 1800 A.D. using 419811 bricks!’ The background on the social divides and the various land legislations denying the basic rights to land ownership to the untouchables in the community have been elaborated. The author’s comments on the unjust social system have been elaborated. The author observes that there is no comparable example in the world of an unjust, discriminatory and unequal social system prevalent in India but also refers to the emergency of leaders with enlightened vision – he quotes Karl Marx, Dr. B.R. Ambedkar and Jawaharlal Nehru in the same paragraph. He also refers to the stellar role of the local Dalit hero, Babu Mangu Ram Mugowalia, as a revolutionary for the cause of social justice. He concludes the first chapter on a hopeful note – ‘social change demands dedication and courage from all the segments of society; there is a dire need of rational outlook in life; the Dalits are keen that the entire country becomes prosperous.’

The chapter titled, ‘A Thick Writing on a Blank Paper’ gives a graphic account of the situation of the Dalit community living on the periphery of the village called ‘Chamarali’ vis-à-vis the interaction with the upper caste ‘Jatt’ community. The scene of the distribution of ‘Prashad’ in the Gurudwara made a mockery of all the subtle teachings and the tall claims of the practice of equality among the Sikhs in a Punjab village. The author has exactly reproduced the piercing degrading remarks laced with un-uttered abuses hurled at the low caste children by the Sikh priest. We are also introduced to interesting characters like Gurdas claiming ‘possession’ by the Peer (dead Muslim Saint) and a few members of the author’s family including his father, Thakar Das. There is the most memorable and touching incident when the author, as a small child, is hung up side down in the well by his father to frighten and forbid him against eating the soil. It was the intervention of his mother which saved the day for the author. There are references to the utterly unclean food and drinks in the home including the white worms infested gur i.e., jaggery used to make tea. The lack of proper protective clothes in the winter season for the children of the Dalit community has also been described with wit and pathos. The description of attack of the locusts in the village and the experience of the author (he was then studying in the second grade in the school) of eating the fried locusts are indeed touching! The next chapter, ‘The Story of the Cracked Mirror’ presents the reader with a rare account of the verbal clash between a high caste Jatt and Phuman, a tenth class student of the Dalit community and a cousin of Madhopuri. The shortage of household requirements including the food grains in the Dalit homes have been vividly described explaining the resultant miseries. The author’s childhood nickname, ‘Good’ ie ‘ a male doll’ also tells the readers his humiliating experiences of ‘Bhitt’ ie untouchability, an ‘untranslatable’ word indeed, and also refers to the severe skin disease common among children of the untouchables.

The chapter entitled ‘The Flowers of the Wild’ presents an interesting picture of the female characters in the author’s family including the strong minded and colourful, Grand-Mother. During discussions in the family, the stories of Brahamanical mythologies including those of strange-bodied gods are ridiculed. The glorification and sanctity of the vegetarianism are also challenged, quoting counter historical and other sources. The tensions in the village, particularly during the difficult period of heavy rains, are described by the author in a very interesting manner. The author also touches upon the acute financial difficulties faced by his family and the unfulfilled hope that his maternal uncle who is a high official would be able to help the family in getting a regular job for the author’s father or his elder brother. The author returns to give to the reader a more intimate portrayal of his grand-mother, particularly her fondness in earlier times for the cattle meat. The pent up feelings of the author’s father find bitter expressions: “They worship the cattle…we are considered worse than animals…they say, keep off, you will make us unclean!” The chapters titled, respectively, ‘Travellers of Thorny Paths’; ‘Sun Gazing through the Clouds’; ‘Our House, Home of Sorrows’; ‘Brahama’s Empty Vicious Circles’; ‘Hunger and Thirst have no Caste,’ The tangle of Kinship’; ‘The Drought in Rainy Season’ bring out most realistically the pains and sufferings of the author’s family viewed both from the angles of an innocent child and a literary artist. The image of the IAS maternal uncle looms large at several places – as a role model and also for his inability in bailing out the family.

The chapter ‘The Banyan Tree’ provides a live portrayal of the most popular place for the community life of the Dalits of the village. The shelter of this big-ancient tree was even used to carry out the various small time professions including plying the handlooms. The author was studying in the 10th class when this banyan tree was cut down by the order of the village panchayat and it was indeed the end of an era and a whole world came down crumbling with the tree. Symbolically, the grandmother of the author did not survive this tragedy. The chapter titled, ‘A River Flowing in the Desert’ describes at length an extremely good natured family of the Jatt caste of Baba Arjan Singh which remained the best of friends of the author’s family till their last – “now when I recall the genuine affection of this Jatt family soaked in all the pores of my body, I feel that he (Arjan Singh) was a river in the desert of the life of our family; it did result in sprouting of some greenery”.

The chapter of the book titled, ‘Hatred with My Name’ recounts several bitter experiences of the author during the period of his early youth. He is frank and bold in stating that he felt ashamed over the large size of his family. He could even dare to tell his mother that he did not need any more brother or sister and that he felt terribly shy while carrying the younger sisters around. When the mother somehow mentions the author’s remarks to his father, his ringing comment needs to be quoted in original, “Saala Angrezan da, laapia mattan den…tere kahe main raddi hoke ghar bah jaaman”, translated loosely, ‘you, brother-in-law of the English, you dare advise me…do you think I should become a ‘wasted’ good for nothing fellow, sitting at home on your suggestion’. The author mentions that he wanted to tell that the small house was so overcrowded with ten persons including several animals under the same roof during the winter. The author refers to the environment in the college in 1972 when the students had resorted to a 39 days’ strike. During the studies in the college, he became deeply interested in the progressive literature and came closer to the Community Party of India in 1974-75. The poems written by him expressing anti-American sentiments were regularly published in the CPI Daily Nawan Zamana and other magazines and he felt convinced that India also needed a revolution like the Soviet Union, ‘ with economic equality established with some magic and where there were no caste distinctions in the society’. He also joined the college for doing post-graduation in Punjabi in Jalandhar and came into contact with sympathetic teachers and also became friendly with the militant poets like Pash and Sant Ram Udasi.

The author got a job in the Food Corporation of India in 1978 and continued his involvement with the activities of the Union. He was, however, to discover soon the narrow mindedness and weaknesses of character of many so-called progressive colleagues. The next turning point in the life of the author was his selection for a Class-II non-Gazetted Officer in the Press Information Bureau in 1983. The rise of the extremists Khalistani movement in the Punjab deeply upset him. The chapter titled, ‘Literature and Politics’ contains telling comments describing the situation during this dark period. The family of the author was immensely relieved when he was transferred to Delhi in 1987. The next two chapters describe respectively the author’s accidental encounter with the terrorists and also a hypocritical Guru in Delhi. The last chapter of the book, ‘The Curse of being a Tenant’ describes all the attendant difficulties of renting an accommodation in Delhi – with the caste factor also playing a role for the author.

The two hundred page book by Madhopuri is certainly a landmark in the category of autobiographical writing in Punjabi literature. The eminent novelist Gurdial Singh has earlier written powerful and sensitive prose describing the trials and tribulations of the marginalized people in rural Punjab. Madhopuri has, however, brought alive the physical pains and the deep sufferings of the souls of those at the bottom of the caste divides – an area which has hitherto remained almost untouched in Punjabi literature. It is hoped that Madhopuri’s autobiography would soon be available to a wider spectrum of readers in translations in Hindi (already published by Vani Prakashan, Delhi) and English. To capture the exact nuance of lyrical prose in the typical dialect of the Punjabi of the Doaba would indeed be a challenge for the translators. A Dwarfed Tree – an autobiographical diagnostic of Dalithood - certainly needs to be studied for the bigger issues and larger perspectives of the social and economic scene in India in the beginning of the 21st century.

(The reviewer has recently retired from the Indian Foreign Service.
e-mail : baal.anand@gmail.com)

Happy New Year 2008

The Midnight Generation and India’s Tryst with Freedom

Excerpts:
[...]‘Midnight’s Children’ to refer to those who were born to breathe in Free but Partitioned India. These children, who would be joining the ranks of the senior citizens tonight, could be considered to belong a special category – hopefully, not carrying too heavy an emotional baggage of the horrors visited on their families and friends during Partition. [...]

Summoning and stretching my memory as far back as possible and plunging deeper into the misty impressions and images of my early childhood – I was shy of four years, to be precise – I can recall how fear, anxiety and disgust had filled the atmosphere of my small village [...]


(Library being divided at the time of partition)

[...]India has been indeed the largest laboratory of mankind. The terms like ‘Green Revolution’ and ‘White Revolution’ underline the success stories in areas of agriculture and milk production.[...]

Read complete article

Remembering Prem Bhatia

The concept of instituting a memorial lecture in honour of eminent persons who have rendered service to the society has always impressed me. [...]

These ponderings are in the context of a gracefully organized function at the India International Centre of the 12th Prem Bhatia Memorial Lecture on May 8, 2007. The Centre has become over the years one of the coziest corners for cultural and literary functions, patronized mostly by [...]

See article

Poetry – the Elixir of Life

On my first looking into Jagrup’s ‘Impressive Poetic-income Statement’ :

My heart with joy dances and hoops At his soul’s wealth and contentment.

It was indeed a rare ‘poetic encounter’ when my friend of about three decades – albeit a maiden meeting - Sardar Jagrup Singh, a very senior officer of the Indian Revenue Service, came to meet me on a pleasant afternoon of Sunday, November 18, 2006 at my ‘nest’ i.e. apartment in Mayur Vihar (literally the colony of the Peacocks) located not far from the legendary Yamuna, presently in the painful process of withering in the jungle of concrete pollutants. We were meeting each other after too brief an encounter in 1978 in the newly established Govt. Degree college, Karamser, situated in the refreshing green environs on the bank of the Sirhind Canal, where Jagrup had speedily emerged a popular youthful lecturer in Physics.

I had expectedly prepared myself to listen from Jagrup many a subtle and funny anecdotes of the tricks played by the ‘money-driven rich and powerful’ in concealing their wealth and dodging taxes by hook or crook – and running into ‘bloodless’ battles of wits with the ‘principled and rule-driven tax collectors’ like Jagrup Singh! Having been a tax-payer ever since I joined my first job as a lecturer on a ‘princely’ salary of Rs. 555/- per month in September 1967, I have developed a somewhat dim view of the life and pastimes of the tax collectors in India whose job is to peep into the ‘dirty-linen’ i.e. the artistically fake and meticulously false account books of the business people. I may state that the bright students of my generation were assiduously tutored by teachers to disdain money and prepare themselves for a career of ‘simple living and high thinking’. The most favoured quote from Gurubani was –

‘Papan Banjh Na Kathi Howe
Moian Saath Na Jawe!’
‘One could never accumulate big money without resorting to sinful ways
every one, however, departs from the world with empty hands’.

I vividly recall how quite a very senior cousin of mine who had done M.A. in English in 1954 and after a short stint as lecturer had joined the Indian Revenue Service, when asked about any continuity of his literary interests had quoted to me (in the summer of 1972) the lines of Mizaz Lakhnavi,

‘jaise mullah ka imama,
jaise Baniye ki kitab’

invoking the simlies of ‘the puffed up turban of the mullah and the worn out account book of the petty trader’ as the most repulsive symbols for the poetic imagination!’ My surprise and dilemma – and profound elation - can be well-imagined when Jagrup Singh presented to me a neat yellowish cover containing - wait, wait, and look : 123 of his poems, in English!

Having been a student of literature and always keen to retain and nourish my deeper interest in the literary endeavours of mankind, I was indeed overwhelmed by ‘the Poetic Income Returns’ presented to me for a ‘friendly scrutiny’ by Jagrup Singh. I must admit that I take any literary effort very seriously and have always believed that there must be a genuinely compulsive and impulsive ‘inner implosion’ of poetry - the words, the thought, the imagination, the rhythm and musical cadence must be magical enough to overpower and captivate the reader. It has been said that, ‘Poetry is the chiseled marble of language; it’s a paint-spattered canvas – but the poet uses words instead of paint, and the canvas is you.’ I have also strongly felt that the authentic poetic experience is possible only in the mother tongue – Rabindranath Tagore had been able to persuade scores of writers to express their creative urges in the language having the sanctity and the purity of the mother’s milk. I was glad to note that Jagrup Singh has indeed sharpened his pen by firstly writing in the mother tongue and later turning to ‘the national tongue of modern India’. I utilized my considerable advantage of firstly reading Jagrup’s poetry in Punjabi and then going through his first collection of poems in English titled ‘Solitude of Mud Palace’. Here, I also feel tempted to quote poet Kamala Das :

Don’t write in English, they said,
English is not your mother-tongue. Why not leave
Me alone, critics, friends, visiting cousins…
…The language I speak
Becomes mine, its distortions, its queernesses,
All mine, mine alone. It is half English, half
Indian, funny perhaps, but it is honest,
It is as human as I am human…

I have indeed enjoyed going through this beautiful of poems penned by Jagrup in his hours of inspiration during the last two years. He has chosen in his poems to comment on injustice, hypocrisy, oppression and indifference prevailing in our society and has also touched upon his personal encounters with nature and people found fit for poetic expression. The poems in the collection, I am confident would shake the sense of inertia and indifference of the readers towards the vital issues confronting us. I wish the tribe of poets like Jagrup to increase – India sorely needs them to put the various issues in their proper poetic, i.e., just perspectives!

* * *

The Dynamics of Sikh Diaspora since Independence

- Lecture delivered at the Bhai Vir Singh Sahitya Sadan at New Delhi on 11 November 2006


Although it has currently become a popularly used coinage of a word in the global market of discussions of academicians of diverse disciplines, the term “Diaspora”, is an ancient word, etymologically derived from the Greek Diasperien, from dia meaning “across” and sperien “to sow or scatter seeds”. Tracing the journey [...]

I could arrive on the topic of Sikh Diaspora with a clear thinking that I have personally experienced, many of the plus and minus elements of being away from ‘home’, totalling a period of more than 26 years during my career in the Foreign Service.[...]

The Sikh Gurdwaras – since the opening of the first in 1911, the number has reached more than 200 – are spread out in length and breadth of Britain and have become the centres [...]

Links:
Article in South Asia Post (Part 1), January 15, 2007
Article in South Asia Post (Part 2), January 31, 2007
Reference in Academy of Punjab North America
See complete lecture

Reflections on Republic Day

Having recently joined the ranks of the senior citizens of the Republic, I have been feeling tempted to look back and forth -with all my acquired prides and prejudices-on the historic significance and background of the 'constitutional birth day' of modern India. See article

A Coup D’etat in School by a Teacher Extraordinaire

The following article appeared in the online publication South Asia Post, July 31, 2006

    Master Ashni Kumar
   photographed 1957-58

IT was exactly the eve of the beginning of the summer vacation in my school way back on July 15th 1958.  I had been studying for three months in the ‘do-or-die’, 10th Grade - the final class of the MGMN (Mahatma Gandhi Memorial National) High School in a tiny town of the Southern Punjab. The School was to remain closed for two months - a period long enough to confuse the minds of young students for the vague psychological time-span. All the enormous instructions about the tons of home - tasks during the 'big' vacation had been loudly and clearly indicated - verbally and also on the black boards by the teachers of various subjects. The newly appointed and youthful Sardar Karnail Singh, B.Sc. B.T, teacher of mathematics and science underlined that those who studied regularly during the vacation would have nothing to fear about the final examination. The stern looking, the senior tough  task master of English and social studies, Ashni Kumar had prescribed the certain number of essays and letters to be written and ‘memorized’ and  ‘solving’ the entire set of the ten-year old papers of the University! The students had spread the ‘story’ that this stick-thin teacher had a weight of only 39 kg at the age of 39!  The old students used to proclaim that for the weight of his vast knowledge, he could be compared to the weight of the whole universe! But in terms of his physical frame, he might just be equal to the weight of the uniform of a Russian soldier!!

Then, as per the practice adopted for a few previous years, Ashni Kumar summoned us - the three top adjudged students of the B-section - and told us that we would be taught by him for a special one hour session for the first one month of the vacation - of course, free of any fee, as it used to be in those good old days!

So, came the 15th July and we three students reached the school in time at the indicated 0930 hours. Master Ashni Kumar - already there, coming out of the office room- directed us to fetch four chairs and a smaller table under a Neem tree in the courtyard of the school.  He joined us soon. Looking at our school bags full of books, he gave us an angry and  dirty look, saying, “You fools, did I ask you to bring all these text books during this period of holidays…  now study these books only at home!”

We started wondering what could be in store for us. The teacher soon spread out the newspaper, ‘The Tribune’, on the table. We had certainly not come prepared for all this!  I had, of course, started ‘glancing through’ The Tribune in my 7th class, mainly to read about the cricket matches. The visit of the New Zealand team in 1955-56 had been of particular interest: A.G. Kirpal Singh, of the then Madras State Team, had scored a century in his maiden test appearance at Hyderabad; the opening wicket partnership of 413 runs between Vinoo Mankad and Pankaj Roy in the 5th Test still remains a world record! How strange and mysterious a co-incidence that I was watching the first India-New Zealand Test in Wellington, Dec.12-16,  2002 i.e. 46 years later,  in the company of the great Kiwi all rounder, John Reid who was the vice-captain of the team in `55-56’!!

Coming back to the day of 15th July, 1958 in the school, the teacher asked me to read aloud the big banner headline on the first page of the Tribune which boldly proclaimed, “Coup d’etat in Iraq, King Faisel killed, Prime Minister Noori also assassinated”. The first word posed a big and serious problem – wrongly printed! Mis-spelt!!? I was simply speechless. I could feel that the teacher had also a sort of inexplicable curiosity on his face - he still insisted that I should read the headline aloud. I did obey and started reading, pronouncing ‘Coup d’etat’ with full emphasis on  letter ‘p’ sounding like, ‘koop de etatte’ in Iraq.…’  There was a small smile on the lips of the teacher and he said, "it is not your fault… it is strange… you got a word to read which is not of English but of the French language…". He started explaining patiently, “in this French word,   letter ‘p’ is not pronounced and 'd' and 't' are pronounced softly – indicating the two equivalent letters in Hindi”.   We tried to lip-imitate what the teacher pronounced a couple of time more for us. Then the teacher went on to explain the meaning of the word, “sudden violent overthrow of a Government; in Hindi, it could be ‘Hinsatamak Achanak Raj Parivartan’… ‘Hakoomat Ki khoon-Bhari Tabdeeli, etc.’ Further on, we had no difficulty in reading - and half understanding - the remaining part of the news report. We read, “The Crown Prince   also killed and his dead body hung high at the main gate of the Al-Zahoor Palace… the body of Prime Minister Noor-es-Said dragged in the streets of Baghdad... The new leader of Iraq is Brig. Abdul Karim Kassem” - The last one appeared an impressive name for my early – teen mind!

The above introduction to the French word, Coup D’etat has indeed ever since been etched in the deepest recesses of my mind.  During my career as a diplomat, I had to attend the 14th July; Reception in the Embassy of Iraq on several occasions, in several capitals - the incident at school would always flash before my eyes! I was also witness to the ‘illuminations’ in the sky in the Saudi capital, Riyadh when the Patriot missiles intercepted the Scud missiles fired during the war in Kuwait.

The  ancient land  of the Mesopotamia, with capital Baghdad as the seat of the mightiest and the wisest of the Empires, not to speak of the fairest fairies i.e. the Hoors,  seems to have its modern destiny written in blood and tears! The cycle of mindless violence seems without an end since the coup of July 14, 1958. To Saddam Hussein, born on April 28, 1937, now facing trial for horrible crimes against his own people, goes the dubious distinction in Iraq’s history - no single man has caused as much destruction to Iraq as he has done through his reign of terror and violence; three bloody wars in which hundreds and thousands of Iraqis have died and continue to die; millions are homeless in their own country and other countries of the world. In terms of its oil resources and fertile lands, Iraq has all the potentials to be a prosperous and developed country - let us pray for her people!

As for my school teacher, Ashni Kumar, he remained my ‘Unique Guru’ as long as he was alive – and he lived an active intellectual life till his last in the ripe old age: he had predicted his own long life explaining that he had got disciplined himself to all the physical ailments since early childhood! We had a long and lively exchange of views through letters on all the topics under the sun - more of all this in the columns of South Asia Post around the Teachers’ Day in September.
 

Tribute to the True Hero of Everest

 The following article appeared in the online publication South Asia Post, June 31, 2006

THE date of May 29, 1953 has got inscribed in the memory of mankind as the glorious day when man stood tallest on the planet ... See article (link expired, full article coming here soon)

Welcome Readers

Here I present a collection of articles and presentations, that I have had the opportunity to write. In the new world of internet connectivity, I can now provide a central place where these can be accessed ...