Bewildered is a resonant feeling for me nowadays; bewildered for the abandon of reason by some, bewildered also by the stone walls of hatred, anger, the confusion that plagues our lives, bewildered but in more measure distressed by the loss of language. Increasingly today I find myself drawn to dialectics around caste, religion, nationalism except what follows are often shrill pitched arguments that defy civility.
The loss of dialectics, of reasoned argument, is not a new phenomenon. History is rife with examples of such loss. In fact, the loss of dialectics was and continues to be an important tool for political gains. Look at the massive follower of Donald Trump or closer home Amit Shah with his war cry for Hindu Rastra. Although there is reason to blame authoritarian regimes for the rise of stifling voices, there is also but a reason to rejoice for breaking the status quo. For balancing the scales of authoritarianism is free speech, the conflicts drawn sharply on antithetical philosophies.
On philosophies then rest on this paradigm of conflict, hate and anger. Philosophies that may be influenced by our socialization, professions, education and the companions we keep! “Soft Hindutava” referred to practices of fasting, feasting, idol worship all our socialized learning. Reprimanding a child for touching a book with his foot, practised fasting on important days, mythological tales and an entire industry of mythological heroes selling bow and arrow, baton and spear, that pits the good and the bad, necessitating the need for war and more importantly violence against the other.
But who is this other? Are they the men, women and children across the border, constantly planning/scheming to destroy our “Bharat Mata”? Are they so-called “untouchables” polluting the flagrant, beautifully organized Hindu caste system? Perhaps it is the conflagration of women, the commies, the students, the third gender; minorities out there to damage the reputation of this country?
This country is under siege. The reputation of a sovereign, socialist, republic is under siege. Where the only benchmark of nationalism is the chanting of Bharat Mata ki Jai in cricket matches, parliament and news channels, where the death of a man’s investigation is postponed for a forensic examination of the meat he consumed, where wells are poisoned as a matter of propriety, where students and teachers are part of witch-hunts more sinister than any investigation for tax defaulters and money launderers, where rape and assault of women go unnoticed, where men and women are killed at point blank range as collaterals of war, where young children are denied education, food, water , dignity every day of their lives, where godmen and politicians connive to kill a river; mock justice and gather more devotees, where the building of Ram Mandir is the mandate for every village, over the shocking state of drought, suicides and parched lands, where the Prime Minister tours the world, having time to congratulate a colleague for the spectacular theatrics on the floor of the house, uploads selfies by the minute and stay mum on all other issues; bizarre is the only word that escapes my lips!
My mind is filled with the bizarreness of events. Every waking hour is an effort to dispel the thoughts and function in the present. Mechanized, sanitized in the space that I call own, function without reason, despair for the loss of humanity, but not more than the despair of one’s own discomfort. Pragmatism is action, in touch for I remain untouched, a mere spectator, an armchair activist at best. Yet the gnawing in the heart; the melancholy of aloneness, of language lost, unheard, crushed.
Our professions define our worldviews. In the deeply caste embedded society of India, the ignominy of this line reiterate all that exists and all that we are. Undeniably sophisticated, up-market individuals not practising discrimination overtly, yet deeply afflicted to our business caste identities. Corporate entities concerned with business models of growth, building coffers of wealth, dispossessed of knowledge or interest in non-capitalist ventures; or the solider at the border or in a concrete building, epitomizing the war cry for protecting created boundaries, not concerned about the human rights violations of their own people; or students picking up the “all salaam” banner, oblivious of the violence that begets their euphoric ideal of change; sloganeering but clueless about a democratic process; or activists, thinkers and others who have long forged ahead in mental faculties, evolved for the lack of a better word, ( hierarchy acknowledged) yet forgotten the dialectics of linguistics; of speaking a language understandable to all.
And herein is our loss. Our loss as a nation; the loss of dialectics! The loss of language... Clones in a market-driven economy that we are, who choose the pragmatist approach over a humanitarian approach, remain mum, while chest-thumping patriarchal “nationalist” with batons define, defile and abuse the others. Business interests often align with political interest to make a hedonist cocktail that begets violence, albeit on the weak, the dispossessed, the unarmed. Soldiers dead or alive are merely used as pawns to ante up the jingoist idea of a nation-state.
The terrible concoction of Brahmanism, patriarchy, neoliberalism produces a many-headed monster one that demonizes tribals as anti-development and anti-conservation; annihilates caste aspirants to aspire for equality, violates and abuses women as collaterals of war and mob-violence and belittles students and academicians for their contribution to society. While a neo-liberal outlook, prevents any germination of ideas, knowledge; where materialistic pursuits take precedence over thoughts and values, an increasing market society ensures no lack of “needs”, created, manufactured and accessible (if not affordable). The leash in the neo-liberal market exists, subtly so in the form of culture, one that regulates marriage, association and even function. The conformist ideal woman that never crosses the line of “Maryada”, allowed to pursue education, forced to give it up for a family that regulates every aspect of one’s sexuality. Women as collaterals of mob violence ( Jats protests anyone), raped, abused, murdered in Chattisgarh and Kashmir alike, but also regularly in Dalit villages, across India where caste and patriarchy are a double whammy.
Yet these remain a distant reality for thousands of Newshour gushing individuals, discussing market fluctuations and actors’ suicide in plush homes.
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