“Ingmar Bergman's passing away represents a loss of unfathomable magnitude. His artistic accomplishments were ground-breaking, unique - but also of a scope that covered film and theatre as well as literature. He was the internationally most renowned Swede, and just a few months ago his artistic achievement was incorporated into the UNESCO Memory of the World Register. We remember him as a very bold person, always present, often biting in his comments. But he was often one step ahead of his contemporaries. Even when he grew old surprises from Fårö were not unexpected. I believe it will take some time before we fully understand that he is no longer with us, but also the importance of his art to other people. The steady stream of letters arriving here at the Ingmar Bergman Foundation since its inception testifies to that.”
– Astrid Söderbergh Widding, CEO of Ingmar Bergman Foundation (link)
Ingmar Bergman died yesterday at his home on Fårö, Sweden. He was 89.
If you wish to know more about Ingmar Bergman, his work and his art, please visit http://www.ingmarbergman.se/
31 July 2007
30 July 2007
Who are the Indian tribals?
The following excerpt is from an article titled ‘A War in the Heart of India’ by Ramachandra Guha in The Nation:
About 80 million Indians are officially recognized as "tribal"; of these, some 15 million live in the northeast, in regions untouched by Hindu influence. It is among the 65 million tribals of the heartland that the Maoists have found a most receptive audience.
Who, exactly, are the Indian tribals? There is a long-running dispute on this question. Some, like the great French anthropologist Marcel Mauss, merely saw them as "Hindus lost in the forest"; others, like the British ethnographer Verrier Elwin, insisted that they could not be so easily assimilated into the mainstream of the Indic civilization. While the arguments about their cultural distinctiveness (or lack thereof) continue, there is--or at any rate should be--a consensus on their economic and political status in independent India.
On the economic side, the tribals are the most deeply disadvantaged segment of Indian society. As few as 23 percent of them are literate; as many as 50 percent live under the poverty line. The state fails to provide them with adequate education, healthcare or sanitation; more actively, it works to dispossess them of their land and resources. For the tribals have the ill luck to live amid India's most verdant forests, alongside India's freest-flowing rivers and atop India's most valuable minerals. As these resources have gained in market value, the tribals have had to make way for commercial forestry, large and small dams, and mines. According to sociologist Walter Fernandes, 40 percent of those displaced by development projects are tribals, although they constitute less than 8 percent of the population. Put another way, a tribal is five times as likely as a nontribal to have his property seized by the state.
On the political side, the tribals are very poorly represented in the democratic process. In fact, compared with India's other subaltern groups, such as the Dalits (former Untouchables) and the Muslims, they are well nigh invisible. Dalits have their own, sometimes very successful, political parties; the Muslims have always constituted a crucial vote bank for the dominant Congress Party. In consequence, in every Indian Cabinet since independence, Dalits and Muslims have been assigned powerful portfolios such as Home, Education, External Affairs and Law. On the other hand, tribals are typically allotted inconsequential ministries such as Sports or Youth Affairs. Again, three Muslims and one Dalit have been chosen President of India, but no tribal. Three Muslims and one Dalit have served as Chief Justice of India, but no tribal.
About 80 million Indians are officially recognized as "tribal"; of these, some 15 million live in the northeast, in regions untouched by Hindu influence. It is among the 65 million tribals of the heartland that the Maoists have found a most receptive audience.
Who, exactly, are the Indian tribals? There is a long-running dispute on this question. Some, like the great French anthropologist Marcel Mauss, merely saw them as "Hindus lost in the forest"; others, like the British ethnographer Verrier Elwin, insisted that they could not be so easily assimilated into the mainstream of the Indic civilization. While the arguments about their cultural distinctiveness (or lack thereof) continue, there is--or at any rate should be--a consensus on their economic and political status in independent India.
On the economic side, the tribals are the most deeply disadvantaged segment of Indian society. As few as 23 percent of them are literate; as many as 50 percent live under the poverty line. The state fails to provide them with adequate education, healthcare or sanitation; more actively, it works to dispossess them of their land and resources. For the tribals have the ill luck to live amid India's most verdant forests, alongside India's freest-flowing rivers and atop India's most valuable minerals. As these resources have gained in market value, the tribals have had to make way for commercial forestry, large and small dams, and mines. According to sociologist Walter Fernandes, 40 percent of those displaced by development projects are tribals, although they constitute less than 8 percent of the population. Put another way, a tribal is five times as likely as a nontribal to have his property seized by the state.
On the political side, the tribals are very poorly represented in the democratic process. In fact, compared with India's other subaltern groups, such as the Dalits (former Untouchables) and the Muslims, they are well nigh invisible. Dalits have their own, sometimes very successful, political parties; the Muslims have always constituted a crucial vote bank for the dominant Congress Party. In consequence, in every Indian Cabinet since independence, Dalits and Muslims have been assigned powerful portfolios such as Home, Education, External Affairs and Law. On the other hand, tribals are typically allotted inconsequential ministries such as Sports or Youth Affairs. Again, three Muslims and one Dalit have been chosen President of India, but no tribal. Three Muslims and one Dalit have served as Chief Justice of India, but no tribal.
25 July 2007
Propaganda
“The conscious and intelligent manipulation of the organized habits and opinions of the masses is an important element in democratic society. Those who manipulate the unseen mechanism of society constitute an invisible government which is the true ruling power. We are governed, our minds moulded, our tastes formed, our ideas suggested largely by men we have never heard of. This is a logical result of the way in which our democratic society is organized. Vast numbers of human beings must cooperate if they are to live together as a smoothly functioning society. In almost every act of our lives, whether in the sphere of politics or business, in our social conduct or our ethical thinking, we are dominated by the relatively small number of persons who understand the mental processes and social patterns of the masses. It is they who pull the wires that control the public mind.”
– Edward L Bernays, PROPAGANDA
– Edward L Bernays, PROPAGANDA
23 July 2007
Going away
She woke me up with a kiss as she always did. A lick really, not so much a kiss. An expression of love, and companionship. Perhaps, even duty. Yet, to me, not quite so used to such displays of emotion, it seemed sudden.
Involuntarily, my hand flew to my mouth, eyes screwed up, a finger caressing the wetness left on my lips, wiping it away. I turned to my side, opened my eyes and blinked at her. I reached out, but she got up and went away without a word.
When I emerged from the bathroom, tingling with fresh breath energy, she was there on the unmade bed. On my side, snuggled against my pillow, enjoying the warmth left by my body. “Ah ha, so that’s what you were after, evicting me like that from my bed so early in the morning?”
She stopped scratching her ribs to look at me, wondering what made me say that. After all, was love and companionship not about sharing too? What had got into me? Affronted, hurt, she got up from the bed and walked away. “Come back,” I called after her. But she was gone.
Later, when I came down the stairs, dressed and ready to go, I found her sitting next to my packed bags, waiting, not understanding. She knew something was wrong. Knew I was going away from seeing me pack my bags earlier. Couldn’t understand why.
I walked up to her, took her head in the palms of my hands, kissed her forehead. Petted her reassuringly. Called her name lovingly, told her I was going away. That she would be okay without me. That life would move on. She looked at me blankly, reading my lips, uncomprehending.
She didn’t wag her tail, didn’t cry, didn’t get up and move away when I picked up my bags and walked to the door. She just sat there, rooted to the spot, watching me walk out into the sun, not understanding what had gone wrong.
Involuntarily, my hand flew to my mouth, eyes screwed up, a finger caressing the wetness left on my lips, wiping it away. I turned to my side, opened my eyes and blinked at her. I reached out, but she got up and went away without a word.
When I emerged from the bathroom, tingling with fresh breath energy, she was there on the unmade bed. On my side, snuggled against my pillow, enjoying the warmth left by my body. “Ah ha, so that’s what you were after, evicting me like that from my bed so early in the morning?”
She stopped scratching her ribs to look at me, wondering what made me say that. After all, was love and companionship not about sharing too? What had got into me? Affronted, hurt, she got up from the bed and walked away. “Come back,” I called after her. But she was gone.
Later, when I came down the stairs, dressed and ready to go, I found her sitting next to my packed bags, waiting, not understanding. She knew something was wrong. Knew I was going away from seeing me pack my bags earlier. Couldn’t understand why.
I walked up to her, took her head in the palms of my hands, kissed her forehead. Petted her reassuringly. Called her name lovingly, told her I was going away. That she would be okay without me. That life would move on. She looked at me blankly, reading my lips, uncomprehending.
She didn’t wag her tail, didn’t cry, didn’t get up and move away when I picked up my bags and walked to the door. She just sat there, rooted to the spot, watching me walk out into the sun, not understanding what had gone wrong.
21 July 2007
Power's perspective
“The history of our times calls to mind those Walt Disney characters who rush madly over the edge of a cliff without seeing it, so that the power of their imagination keeps them suspended in mid-air; but as soon as they look down and see where they are, they fall.”
– Raoul Vaneigem, ‘The Revolution of Everyday Life’
– Raoul Vaneigem, ‘The Revolution of Everyday Life’
19 July 2007
Suicide, a mysterious phenomenon
My friend’s daughter, all of 15 years of age, living in Bangalore, seemed to know a great deal about suicide – information on methods which are least painful in taking one’s life. She said she had read up stuff on the Internet. I was aghast.
When I asked her what made her think of collecting this information, she said “just like that” – that, in her peer group, it was fashionable to know about suicide as there was a lot of it around. Especially among school students, in Bangalore and Chennai, who couldn’t handle the pressure of delivering academic results to please their parents.
Another friend narrated the story of a suicide within her friends’ circle – a 15-year-old girl, in Chennai, who jumped from a building a couple of years ago because she couldn’t deal with the shame of not performing in school and not being able to keep up with the same high standards of her older sister, which her parents demanded.
Then I came upon an article, ‘Suicide elusive, but not always unstoppable’, in The Economist which dealt with this very topic. Here’s an excerpt:
“Suicide rates have been rising in India, especially among the young, and over a third of those who kill themselves are under 30 years old.
But suicide is a mysterious phenomenon; it defies generalisations. Emile Durkheim, the father of modern sociology, wrote in 1897 that suicide rates were a key sign of the state of a community. It was commonest, he reckoned, at two extremes—highly controlled societies, or loose, atomised ones. Since then, his successors have filled thousands of books with theories about what makes people take their own lives: the negative factors which remove the desire to live, and the positive ones that can make self-killing an attractive or even “fashionable” option.
In India, the desperation of students has been studied relatively little compared with that of farmers, who have killed themselves in rising numbers in recent years: over 17,000 died by their own hand in 2003. The trend is often ascribed to debt, drought and the ready availability of pesticides that serve as poison.
But in India no less than elsewhere, the inner turmoil that makes people end it all usually has complex causes: social dislocation, family tensions or long-term depression. No group escapes. The country's suicide capital is booming Bengalooru (Bangalore), where most of those who do it are skilled workers; housewives are the next-biggest category. Some reports say suicide became common among Indian farmers only in the late 1990s, after agrarian and trade reforms introduced a few years earlier by a liberalising government. In truth, such deaths were probably going unrecorded for decades before that. Official data tell us as much about social mores (the extent to which self-killing is concealed) as about what really happens.”
[Citation: ‘Suicide elusive, but not always unstoppable’, The Economist, 21 June 2007]
When I asked her what made her think of collecting this information, she said “just like that” – that, in her peer group, it was fashionable to know about suicide as there was a lot of it around. Especially among school students, in Bangalore and Chennai, who couldn’t handle the pressure of delivering academic results to please their parents.
Another friend narrated the story of a suicide within her friends’ circle – a 15-year-old girl, in Chennai, who jumped from a building a couple of years ago because she couldn’t deal with the shame of not performing in school and not being able to keep up with the same high standards of her older sister, which her parents demanded.
Then I came upon an article, ‘Suicide elusive, but not always unstoppable’, in The Economist which dealt with this very topic. Here’s an excerpt:
“Suicide rates have been rising in India, especially among the young, and over a third of those who kill themselves are under 30 years old.
But suicide is a mysterious phenomenon; it defies generalisations. Emile Durkheim, the father of modern sociology, wrote in 1897 that suicide rates were a key sign of the state of a community. It was commonest, he reckoned, at two extremes—highly controlled societies, or loose, atomised ones. Since then, his successors have filled thousands of books with theories about what makes people take their own lives: the negative factors which remove the desire to live, and the positive ones that can make self-killing an attractive or even “fashionable” option.
In India, the desperation of students has been studied relatively little compared with that of farmers, who have killed themselves in rising numbers in recent years: over 17,000 died by their own hand in 2003. The trend is often ascribed to debt, drought and the ready availability of pesticides that serve as poison.
But in India no less than elsewhere, the inner turmoil that makes people end it all usually has complex causes: social dislocation, family tensions or long-term depression. No group escapes. The country's suicide capital is booming Bengalooru (Bangalore), where most of those who do it are skilled workers; housewives are the next-biggest category. Some reports say suicide became common among Indian farmers only in the late 1990s, after agrarian and trade reforms introduced a few years earlier by a liberalising government. In truth, such deaths were probably going unrecorded for decades before that. Official data tell us as much about social mores (the extent to which self-killing is concealed) as about what really happens.”
[Citation: ‘Suicide elusive, but not always unstoppable’, The Economist, 21 June 2007]
17 July 2007
Happiness
A very good feeling. Those were my exact words. But they weren’t enough to satisfy her.
A week ago, an orkut ‘friend’ invited me to a chat (on Gmail). We chatted about happiness, tossing the subject forwards and backwards, citing examples from our lives, trying to figure out if it (i.e. happiness) was an illusion (her view) or it existed (my view).
She questioned if happiness could be defined and, apart from suggesting ‘a very good feeling’, I really couldn’t think of anything more intelligent to say. We agreed that happiness was most likely a ‘temporary’ feeling, something ‘momentary’, and decided to leave it at that.
I sulked over this for a week and decided to write this post.
I thought about what the great philosophers like Socrates and Plato and Aristotle had to say about happiness. I remembered that they had tried to explain happiness as something independent of health or wealth. They believed happiness was a whole-life concept, not something that depended on the ups and downs of everyday life. They believed that happiness was not episodic.
If this is true, then can happiness be temporary or momentary as we believe? And, if this is true, then can happiness really be illusive to some of us?
A week ago, an orkut ‘friend’ invited me to a chat (on Gmail). We chatted about happiness, tossing the subject forwards and backwards, citing examples from our lives, trying to figure out if it (i.e. happiness) was an illusion (her view) or it existed (my view).
She questioned if happiness could be defined and, apart from suggesting ‘a very good feeling’, I really couldn’t think of anything more intelligent to say. We agreed that happiness was most likely a ‘temporary’ feeling, something ‘momentary’, and decided to leave it at that.
I sulked over this for a week and decided to write this post.
I thought about what the great philosophers like Socrates and Plato and Aristotle had to say about happiness. I remembered that they had tried to explain happiness as something independent of health or wealth. They believed happiness was a whole-life concept, not something that depended on the ups and downs of everyday life. They believed that happiness was not episodic.
If this is true, then can happiness be temporary or momentary as we believe? And, if this is true, then can happiness really be illusive to some of us?
16 July 2007
The Civilizing Process
“In his classic work, ‘The Civilizing Process’, Norbert Elias suggests that the harbinger of the modern state was the process of self-discipline, first adopted by European elites in an effort to distance themselves from the lower ranks of society. This discipline focused on control over arbitrary, impulsive, or instinctive behavior, and included such behavior as the cultivation of table manners and the suppression of violent activities, including sports.”
– Laura Cruz, ‘Making Sense Of: Dying and Death’
– Laura Cruz, ‘Making Sense Of: Dying and Death’
10 July 2007
Wake up, start dreaming
“In this world it makes me shimmer and this world it makes me scream
With all the hope we have inside us, still life is but a dream, but a dream.”
- Opening lines from ‘Photograph’, a song by Liz Larin, from her album ‘Wake Up, Start Dreaming’
05 July 2007
Impoverished state
What keeps a region like Darfur, a country like Sudan, or an entire continent like Africa, in an impoverished state of intolerance, bloodshed, poverty, disease, death and hopelessness? Is it because their government chooses to keep them in a state of misery for a collective gain? Or, is their government so hopeless precisely because their country is so impoverished?
02 July 2007
Counterculture
Forty years ago, when I was growing up in Calcutta in the late sixties, the youth in India, particularly in West Bengal, rose to challenge the social and political forces of the country. Frustrated with economic and political totalitarianism, capitalist exploitation and social inequality, they became restless and anti-establishment, and resisted institutional governance. Students, workers and farmers united to revolt against government strictures and corruption.
In India, it was a time of ideology and youthful optimism. It was a time of re-living the fight for freedom that gave us Independence twenty years before that.
The Indian movement was an echo of what was happening around the world – the birth of a counterculture represented by student and civil rights uprisings, music, literature, film and fashion. That was the time when the terms ‘hippy’ and ‘hippies’ resonated on everyone’s lips around the world, although not so in India. But, the highlight of the period was the student-worker strike in France in May 1968 against General de Gaulle’s government.
Today, as we approach our sixty years of Independence, I look around and see Indian youths embracing capitalism with as much single-mindedness as my generation had resisted it. I see Indian youths chasing money and material possessions with as much vigour as my generation had denounced it. I see Indian youths forfeiting ideology for fame and fortune. I see Indian youths re-defining freedom as the power of money to buy oneself pleasure in a self-centred hedonistic manner, contrary to my generation’s fight for equality and peace.
In India, it was a time of ideology and youthful optimism. It was a time of re-living the fight for freedom that gave us Independence twenty years before that.
The Indian movement was an echo of what was happening around the world – the birth of a counterculture represented by student and civil rights uprisings, music, literature, film and fashion. That was the time when the terms ‘hippy’ and ‘hippies’ resonated on everyone’s lips around the world, although not so in India. But, the highlight of the period was the student-worker strike in France in May 1968 against General de Gaulle’s government.
Today, as we approach our sixty years of Independence, I look around and see Indian youths embracing capitalism with as much single-mindedness as my generation had resisted it. I see Indian youths chasing money and material possessions with as much vigour as my generation had denounced it. I see Indian youths forfeiting ideology for fame and fortune. I see Indian youths re-defining freedom as the power of money to buy oneself pleasure in a self-centred hedonistic manner, contrary to my generation’s fight for equality and peace.
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