Stranger to History by Aatish Taseer: Impressions

Many times during the course of 'Stranger to History', I admit trying to find Aatish Taseer's Twitter profile (with no luck). The more I read this book, the more curious I became about the author whose life seems to be an extraordinary case of ironies. I sought inane little details – as a person is wont to give away on Twitter – about Taseer, if only to humanise, 'normalise' him a little. Because going by the book, internal and external conflict is all he has ever lived by. Picture a set of parents belonging to different religions, living in different countries and divorced. Picture a little child who has only just known shadows of his father, forever clutching at straws of identity. It all befell Taseer's lot, and 'Stranger to History: A Son's Journey Through Islamic Lands' is his story.

Born as a lovechild to a rising Pakistani political activist and an Indian political journalist, Taseer's destiny seemed to bear the fault line of the Indo­Pak border. While his parents got married for a while, they divorced soon after, owing his Muslim father's political ambitions in Pakistan. His Sikh mother raised him in Delhi, with help from a host of Sikh relatives. Once a young man, Taseer is driven by a need to know his father and to truly understand what being a Muslim is. He sets out on a journey that takes him from Turkey to Syria to Saudi Arabia to Iran to finally his father's doorstep in Pakistan.

Taseer samples the unique flavours the religion of Muhammad travelling through these Islamic states. Through his journalistic lens, he shows you the undercurrents of radical Islam in the largely secular Turkey, the monied 'Sheikh' culture of the Saudi, the oppressive religious regime in Iran, the constant political unrest in Syria and finally, the imploding state of Pakistan. It's a great bird's eye view of the current state of affairs in these nations and an eye­opener for people like me who do not follow global politics; especially the politics of religion. Because he is a journalist, Taseer's writing is analytical, but it is also delightfully lyrical in places. Through the people he meets during his travels, he personalises the account, without ever getting emotional.

That's not to say the book is devoid of emotion. The book is an intensely personal account of a search for identity. It is hard not to be moved by Taseer's confusion, occasional jubilation and often, rejection. The point of strife between Taseer and his father is the question of identity, with Taseer being Indian yet not, Pakistani yet not, Muslim yet not. His father's reluctant acceptance of him after many years, and a fresh rift owing to difference of opinion are painful to witness.

It is hard not to feel sorry for him, for ourselves and for our Pakistani neighbours, who live in this milieu of political mistrust. Taseer's life could well be an exaggeration of the conflict all of us, who live in the post 1947 world, feel. Pakistan's children, are perhaps in a worse place, having rejected all their shared history with India. It can't be nice growing up with a big black void in the collective social consciousness. Reading this book causes one to ask many questions about one's religious and national identities. These are important questions that need to be asked and for that, I thank Taseer.

MYTHOLOGY AND MUSIC: The definitive influences of Hindu Mythology on Indian Music

Introduction 
Music is inherent to humankind. Since the beginning of documented culture, there has been evidence of music. Music has emerged spontaneously and in parallel in all known human societies. Archeological evidence shows a continuous record of musical instruments, dating back to at least 30,000 years (D’Errico et al., 2003). Music appears to transcend time, place, and culture.

Music is ubiquitous yet mysterious in the way it manifests and perpetuates. Since music has no apparent evolutionary function, this product of ‘pure culture’ has always roused curiosity. The human capacity for music has often been attributed to higher sources, and consequently, a whole body of mythology surrounding music has been born. This paper attempts to explore the effects music and mythology have had on each other over time in India.

Devi Saraswati by Raja Ravi Varma

History of Indian music

The ancient Indians believed in the divine origin of music. The purest form of sound was considered equal to cosmic energy. As a result, music and religion were always closely intertwined. Classical music tradition was probably evolved from the religious poems and chants of the Vedic period. It was later codified by Bharata Muni. Indian music has developed through very complex interactions between different peoples of different races and cultures over several thousand years.

The following timeline* traces the evolution of the musical tradition in India:

Date	Significant musical developments
2500 BC - 1500 BC	Several musical instruments, drums and ‘dancing’ statuettes (including one of Rudra) found at Indus Valley Civilization excavations.
1500 BC - 500 BC	* Arrival of Aryans, beginning of Vedic tradition, especially the rhythmic compositions and chanting of the Vedas. * Introduction of the first instruments like veena, dundubhi, tunav, talav and bhoomi-dundubhi. * Drinking of Soma-ras as part of Vedic sacrifices. * Shiksha literature where ritual and mantra became basis of music. * Guru-Shishya parampara
500BC - 200BC	* Ramayana, with its rhythmic shlokas, composed * Introduction of Pathya Sangeet – educative, instructional musical tales * Mahabharata composed with ample references to music, dance and singing * Musical references in early Buddhist and Jain scriptures
¤ 200 BC - 300 AD	* Mahabharata epilogue, Harivamsha, mentions Chhalikya and Hallisaka. Chhalikya was a form of ancient Indian music and Hallisaka was a dance form. * Natyashastra composed
¤ 300 AD - 600 AD	* Golden age of arts – Gupta period * Composition of important Kalidasa plays * Kamasutra, with varied musical references, composed * Samaj, ghata-nibandhan and other forms of music introduced * Music mentioned in Puranas like Vayupurana, Markandeyapurana and Vishnudharmottarapurana. * Dattilam, a text about ragas, composed
¤ 600 AD - 1200 AD	* Brihaddeshi, text on Indian classical music, composed * Concepts of sargam, tala and Deshi music introduced * Significant changes in 11th century Hindustani art music * Beginnings of Sufi and Persian music
¤ 1200 AD - 1700 AD	* The rise of Amir Khusro’s poetry * Emergence of music forms like qawali, qalbana, qasida, naqsh and rags like Turushka, Zeelaph and Sarpada * Drupad, a genre of Hindustani Classical music, introduced * Beginning of Hindi songs like Vishnupadas, in lieu of Sanskrit ones * Rise of the Bhakti cult with devotional music about Rama and Krishna, especially Meerabai * Legendary musicians like Tansen lived and sang * Rise in popularity of 16th century court music
¤ 1700 AD onwards	* This period marks the beginning of modern Indian music * Birth of musical forms like Khayal, Thumri, Tappa and formation of Gharanas * Publishing of Hindustani music in English and other regional languages

Scriptural references

The evolution of music can be traced best through the scriptures, as also explore its mythological aspects. The Vedas and Puranas are replete with stories about the origin of music and musical instruments. We take a look at some such references.  

The Vedas

Music originated from chanting of Vedas from the Aryan age. The Indus Valley civilization declined around the first half of the 2nd millennium BC, giving way to Vedic civilization. An important aspect of Vedic religious life was the bard-priest who composed hymns, in praise of the gods, to be sung or chanted at sacrifices. 

'Nada' the source of sound turned into Chhandas. The priests chanted hymns in a musical tone with the pronunciation according to the tune. Vocalising syllables called Sthobhaksaras were added. Melody and rhythm created the music. Priests used to perform group chanting at the sacrifices. There are many legends about the origin of music. 

The Yajurveda and the Samaveda were composed after the Rigveda. The Samaveda is especially important as it contains hymns to be sung by those who did the chanting. It is this Veda which is specifically connected with music in India. 

The Vishnudharmottara Purana

The Vishnudharmottara Purana is a Hindu text, encyclopedic in nature. It is considered as a supplement or appendix to the Vishnu Purana. Among other things, it has chapters dedicated to grammar, metrics, lexicography, metrics, rhetoric, dramaturgy, dance, vocal and instrumental music and arts. Chapters 18-19 of one of its khandas deal with vocal and instrumental music.

The epics

• Ramayana  

The first Indian epic, Ramayana, was composed by the sage Valmiki. It was written in shloka form. The word shloka refers to a particular kind of metrical composition known for its brevity, easy tempo and lilting rhyme.

Satrughna is returning with his attendants to Ayodhya from his kingdom of Madhu for the first time in twelve years and halts at Valmiki's hermitage. There he hears Lava and Kusa singing the story of Rama. Source: British Museum via Wikipedia

From the lavish use of musical metaphors in the epic, it is evident that the precise concept of music or sangeet had been adequately established and appreciated. 

There are references to terms like Marga sangeet , divine music meant only for the gods, and Gandharva, the 'classical' music of the time. Rama was depicted an expert in gandharva, in the Ramayana, so were Ravana and Sugreeva. The epic also tells us that musical instruments were collectively mentioned as atodya, some of them being the Veena, Venu, Vansha, Shankha, Dundubhi, Bheri, Mridang, Panav and Pataha.

• Mahabharata 

Vyasa’s Mahabharata composed in 24000 shlokas also mentions music often, but not as much as the Ramayana. 

Urvashi, an apsara in Indra's court by Raja Ravi Varma

Mahabharata used the term Gandharva instead of Sangeet. Arjuna, one of the heroes in the Mahabharata had learnt these musical arts from the king of Gandharvas, Chitrasen. There are also references to kings maintaining their own music schools to train princesses and their maids-in-waiting in the performing arts.

The names of the seven basic musical notes (shadja) have been clearly mentioned in the Mahabharata, which was composed around 400 BC. The epic therefore bears testimony to the long living tradition of Indian Classical music.

The Kalidasa plays and others

In ancient India, music used to be a part of the famous Sanskrit dramas like Mirchakatika and Abhijnana Shakuntalam. The origin of the ancient Indian music began in the age of the Aryans, with the chanting of the Vedas. It was seen as an excellent means for realization of god. Music was considered as a source of culture and civilization. It was an integral aspect of Sanskrit dramas like Abhijnana Shakuntalam, Mirchakatika. The fourth act of Vikramoryasiya by Kalidasa used different musical compositions like Aksiptika, Dvipadika, Jambhalika, Khandadhara, Carcarj, Khandaka, etc.

Natya Shastra

The Natya Shastra is an ancient Indian treatise on the performing arts, encompassing theatre, dance and music. It was written during the period between 200 BCE and 200 CE in classical India and is traditionally attributed to the Sage Bharata.

The Natya Shastra is incredibly wide in its scope. While it primarily deals with stagecraft, it has come to influence music, classical Indian dance, and literature as well. It covers stage design, music, dance, makeup, and virtually every other aspect of stagecraft. It is very important to the history of Indian classical music because it is the only text which gives such detail about the music and instruments of the period. Thus, an argument can be made that the Natya Shastra is the foundation of the fine arts in India.

The Gods of Music

Each of the above-mentioned scriptures acknowledges and explains the divine origins of music, attributing certain arts to certain gods. One cannot help but draw parallels with the Muses and Apollo in Greek mythology, who were reigning gods of music. However, unlike the Greek gods, Indian gods have been more associated with instruments rather than the crafts, with the exception of Shiva, who is considered the God of (cosmic) dance. Here are some popular Indian deities majorly associated with music.

A typical Mridangam

Brahma: The origin of the universe is often attributed to the Nada Brahma, or the primeval sound energy. On more concrete terms, Brahma, the deity, is associated with the barrel drum, or Mridangam, which is one of the most significant instruments in Indian music. Brahma is said to have created the mridangam (‘mritha’ being clay and ‘anga’ being body) from the blood soaked earth when he killed the demon, Tripura.

A bronze statue of Vishnu holding the shankha, chakra, gada and padma

Vishnu: Vishnu holds the shankha or conch in one of his four hands. This sankha is said to have created the primordial sound of ‘Om’, which is the source of all other sounds in the universe. The shankha is held sacred to this day in Hindu temples and rituals.

A stone carving of Rudra, sword and damru in hand

Shiva/ Rudra: Of all Hindu gods, Shiva probably has the most significant place in the world of music and dance. As Shiva, he holds the damru, a small drum that plays the beats of life and death. As Nataraja, he dances the cosmic dance, forever maintaining the balance of the universe. Shiva is also said to have invented the first five of the six main ragas. Of the five faces of Lord Shiva the eastern face gave birth to raag Bhairav, the western face to Raag Hindol, the Northern face to Raag Megh, the Southern face to Raag Deepak and the fifth face, which was directed towards the sky gave birth to Raga Shree. Goddess Parvati is said to have created the Raga Kaushik.

A Rudraveena

Shiva is also said to have created the Rudraveena, a string instrument, inspired by the voluptuous supine form of his wife, Parvati.

Veena-playing Devi Saraswati

Saraswati: Like Brahma, his consort, Saraswati is associated with music. Not just music, Saraswati is considered the patron goddess of all arts. She is seen holding a classical Veena in one of her four hands and is credited with the invention of the 7-toned scale or swara. Interestingly enough, each one of the seven swaras is associated with one Hindu deity: Sa with Ganapati, Re with Agni, Ga with Rudra, Ma with Vishnu, Pa with Narada, Dha with Sadashiva, and Ni with Surya.

The flute-playing Krishna

Krishna: Krishna, one of the most popular Hindu gods, has strong musical connections. The young Krishna of Vrindavan is always depicted as carrying the  flute and playing mesmerising tunes with it. Krishna is comparable to Apollo and the muses in Greek mythology, a charming God that he is, surrounded by gopis, immersed in song and dance. 

Other characters

Rishi Narada holding the Mahati Veena

Narada: The Vedic Sage Narada, famous for perpetuating divine gossip, also has some musical associations. He is depicted as carrying the tanpura, which he uses as an accompaniment to the devotional songs he sings in Vishnu’s praise. He is also credited with the invention of the Mahati Veena, the aristocrat among Indian instruments. The Mahati Veena is said to have fallen out of favour in the modern times due to the sheer difficulty in playing it.

Idols like these of Ravana holding a Veena are commonly seen in South India 

Raavanhaath, or the one-string instrument

Ravana: The biggest antagonist of Hindu lore, Ravana, was also known to be a master of many crafts. Popular iconography often has Ravana holding a Veena. There is, in fact, a rudimentary string instrument named after him. Called the Ravanastram, this ancient bowed instrument consists of a bamboo stick as a body to which two wooden pegs are fixed for tuning the strings and a half hollowed coconut shell as belly covered with a dried skin. The bow having a string of horse hair and belts attached to it is used as a fiddle stick.

A stone carving of Gandharvas

Gandharvas: The Gandharvas, or celestial musicians, led by Chitrasena were the guardians and practitioners of the arts, especially music and dance. They guarded the Soma and made beautiful music for the gods in their palaces. Gandharvas are frequently depicted as singers in the court of Gods.

Ragas

An important component of music is the melody or Raga, as they are known in Indian Music. The powers of ragas were and are attributed to divine agency. In the 13th Century, Sarngadeva (in Sangita Ratnakara) assigned a patron deity to each raga. Later, ragas were themselves represented as semi-divine beings. In a famous story from the Brhaddharma Purana, the musician Narada is taken to heavenly realms to confront the souls of the male ragas and female raginis cruelly injured by his inept performances; when Siva sings them correctly, each raga or ragini presents him- or herself in person.

Ragmala Painting of Ragini Asawari (reproduction of Mewar school)

Also, the 72 Mēḷakarta ragas are split into 12 groups called chakrās, each containing 6 ragas. The name of each of the 12 chakras, many of which are of gods’ names, suggests their ordinal number as well.

• Indu stands for the moon, of which we have only one 

• Nētra means eyes, of which we have two – hence it is the second.

• Agni, the third chakra, denotes the three divyagnis (fire, lightning and Sun).

• Vēda denoting four Vedas is the name of the fourth chakra.

• Bāṇa comes fifth as it stands for the five bāṇaa of Manmatha.

• Rutu is the sixth chakra standing for the 6 seasons of Hindu calendar.

• Rishi, meaning sage, is the seventh chakra representing the seven sages.

• Vasu stands for the eight Vasus of Hinduism.

• Brahma comes next of which there are 9.

• The 10 directions, including akash (sky) and patal (nether region), is represented by the tenth chakra, Disi.

• Eleventh chakra is Rudra of which there are eleven.

• Twelfth comes Aditya of which there are twelve.

Also of import is the now obsolete Raga-Ragini classification. There are 6 principal male ragas, namely Bhairav, Malkauns, Hindol, Deepak, Shri and Megh ragas. These ragas have five wives or raginis each and these raga-ragini ‘couples’ also have 8 children or raga putras each. This gives us a total of 84 ragas.

Conclusion

The influence of mythology on Indian music has been undeniable and extensive. From the Vedic times down to the modern day, songs about gods have been central to the music of India. Whether it is naming of the ragas, or the invention of music instruments, the Hindus have always looked at mythological creatures for inspiration. We do not just tell stories about our gods and heroes, but sing them, for music is divinity manifest.    

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This assignment was part of my PG Diploma Course in Comparative Mythology, at the Department of Sanskrit, University of Mumbai, for the academic year 2013-14, Sem. 1, Paper 1. Images have been sourced from the Internet and none belong to me.

Land of the Seven Rivers by Sanjeev Sanyal: Impressions

I've been a bad girl as far as reading goes, and worse still, about reviewing books. A mad phase at work leaves me with precious little mental energy at the end of the day and by TBR pile looks at me accusingly. However, I not only made time for Sanjeev Sanyal's 'Land of The Seven Rivers' , but also found it quite unputdownable. It is unputdownable not in the manner of thrillers but by way of presenting the reader with many 'Oh!' moments.

'Land of The Seven Rivers - A Brief History of India's Geography' is a delightfully informative read, and Sanyal even manages to pepper it with wit! I was very intrigued by the title; finally someone was promising to tell me something about India's history that had nothing to do with the same old Marathas and the same old Gandhis. Geography was also not a subject that interested me much in school. Who wants to read endlessly about kharif and raabi crops, right? But here was a title that claimed to be none of the two, yet both.

And Sanyal holds true his promise. With extensive research, a lot of which is based on his personal travels, Sanyal traces the origins and evolution of the subcontinent. The book is divided into eight chapters that chart the course of India, right from the pre-historic times down to the present-day. The first chapter, ‘Of Genetics and Tectonics’ deals with the formation of the natural geographical boundaries, using the continental drift theory and examines the latest notions about the nation’s gene pool. Citing modern research, Sanyal too finds the Aryan Invasion theory redundant and concludes that the Indian people are a truly eclectic mix from across the world, then as now.

The second chapter, ‘People of the Lost River’, deals with two of the most intriguing elements of India’s past – the Harappan Civilization and the River Saraswati. Sanyal does a quick recce of the vast body of research on the Harappan, or what is now called the Indus Valley Civilization. The author is in agreement with the modern researchers who propose that the Vedic and the Indus Valley Civilization were the same. Disproving the Aryan Invasion theory again, Sanyal points out that India’s earliest cities withered away due to the drying up of the great river Saraswati. The chapter also talks about the Bharata tribe, from whom India derives its name.

The third chapter, ‘The Age of the Lions’ discusses a period that roughly coincides with the Late Iron Age. It was the milieu of some of India’s most important personas including Gautama Buddha, Chanakya and Chadragupta Maurya. It was also the time of Alexander’s invasion, and the building of the first highways. Sanyal also discusses the introduction of the lion in the country, supporting it with scriptural and historical evidence, and the induction of the animal as a symbol of royal power.

‘The Age of Merchants’, the fourth chapter, talks especially about the ports of southern India that flourished during the Chola dynasty. It emphasises the importance of port towns in serving as the melting pot for cultures and commerce. Sanyal also points out how the once flourishing maritime trade in India diminished with the onset of caste restrictions on ‘crossing the waters’. Through the fifth chapter, ‘From Sindbad to Zheng He’, Sanyal continues to talk about traders that made their way into India and eventually set up communities here, slowly giving India its multicultural hue. There are many interesting tidbits about evolving maritime technology too in these sections.

In the sixth and seventh chapters, ‘The Mapping of India’ and ‘Trigonometry and Steam’, the author sheds light on the aspects of cartography, not just in India but the increasingly dominating European nations. Europe’s advancement in map-making, mathematics and technology paved their path to eventual world domination, while the Indian dynasties like the Muhgals and Marathas crumbled under the weight of the old world.  

By the time we get to the last chapter, ‘The Contours of Modern India’, the British have obviously established colonial rule in the nation. We read about Calcutta’s emergence and disintegration as the seat of power. We read about the making of Delhi all over again by the British, as by a long line of Indian rulers. The chapter also obviously speaks about the partition, the making of Bangladesh and the strained relationships we share with Pakistan and China.

The book is so full of amazing facts that I couldn’t help but write such a long review. It is a must read for anyone interested in India’s history, geography and even mythology! Sanyal’s authoritative voice and extensive research make it a great read and it may as well serve as a handbook for any student of ‘India’. I most certainly recommend it.

Karma by Cathy Ostlere: Impressions

There are good books, there are great books and then there are once-in-a-lifetime books. Cathy Ostlere's 'Karma', which is a novel in verse, falls in the third category for more reasons than one. It hit all the right spots even before I had read the award-winning book. It was as if Karma was meant for me. The title, the cover design, the concept and the style of the book - everything called out to me.

Written in a diary format, the story is told through  Maya and Sandeep's poetic entries. Maya is a Indian-origin Canadian teenager who straddles the two worlds of Indian values and her Canadian life on the one hand and her mother's Hindu beliefs and father's Sikh pride on the other. She also has bestfriend-boyfriend issues like any regular teenager and struggles to stay afloat in a sea of identity crises. But Maya's already fragile world crumbles when she loses her mother to depression and is taken to India by her father to be married off. Maya and her bapu land at the time of modern India's worst political crises - the assassination of  Indira Gandhi. Maya is separated from her father in Delhi's riotous atmosphere and she escapes to Jodhpur leaving behind her life and her voice.

Enter Sandeep. Child of the desert, an orphan adopted, maverick and Maya's unlikely hero. When Maya is rescued by Sandeep's sister, she is no more than a frightened creature, rendered mute by her grief. Sandeep's family take Maya in for a while and through his words, Sandeep must coax back Maya's spirit and words. Several adventures follow and the seeds of friendship and young love are sown. Sandeep helps reunite Maya with her father, but they must pay the price with separation.

You see how the plot is so thick with action and emotion. Now multiply it many times over with Ostlere's poignant poetry. The poet-novelist writes striking free verse, which is laden with powerful imagery. I am hard pressed to pick a favourite (every line in the book is, really), but I don't think I'll ever forget these lines from Sandeep's diary on page 422.

Sandeep's answer

I hear him arguing

We are made of love. Love! Do you hear me, old
man! We are made of the love that finds us. The
love we make. And even the love we are fated to
lose! 

Otslere strikes you down, lifts you up, makes you cry and moves you irrevocably with her poignant poetry. There may be only 15 words on a page, but you are never left wanting, so evocative are the images she paints. I highly recommend this book to anyone who is curious about poetry but thinks they do not have the patience for it.  Let not its 500 plus pages scare you. For once you've dipped your toes in its first few lines, you'll want to swim and drown in it and never come back again.

Mixed media on paper (Click on image to enlarge)

The Pregnant King by Devdutta Pattanaik: Impressions

He wept for his father, the pregnant king, for the imperfection of the human condition, and our stubborn refusal to make room for all those in between.


This last line of the book, The Pregnant King by Devdutt Pattanaik, succinctly sums up its message. And what a powerful message! The book is less about the 'aberrations in nature' and more about society disowning them. Whether in Dwapara Yuga or the Kali, human beings have remained the same in their non-acceptance of the non-normal. Through the story of many major and minor (as we call it these days) LGBT mythological characters, Pattanaik reminds us of the humanity we often forget to show to humans who are a little different. In his first work of fiction, he writes with the same signature elegance, that make all his books so readable. His merit is in presenting the universal aspects of ancient stories that make them relevant to the modern reader.

Pattanaik mentions right in the beginning of the book how he has neither adhered to chronology nor to geographical boundaries. He has pulled out many popular characters from across mythology, uniting them in this work of fiction to demonstrate the agony of persons whose minds and bodies are divided on the aspect of sexuality. So apart from the story of Yuvanashva - man and mother, there are stories about Shikhandi - woman and prince of Panchal, Ila - man and wife, Somvat- boy and wife, and even Arjuna - warrior and eunuch among others. Not just human characters, the author tells us stories of gods and demons also plagued by mixed sexualities. There is, for instance, Sthunakarna - a yaksha and yakshini and Ileshwara - god and goddess.When he needed to introduce similar queer characters into the story, who could not in any way be connected to the plot, the author made clever use of bards, who tell stories about them.

Coming back to the prime character of Yuvanashva, Pattanaik etches a well-defined character of the king who became a mother. Unable to bear a child for many years, the king seeks desperate measures. A magical potion churned by two Sidhhas promise him children, but not quite in the way he imagines. Instead of his wives, the king accidentally drinks it and begets a child. Though the truth of the child is kept a secret from the subjects and even the child himself, it manifests itself in the king's maternal feelings. Then comes a moment of truth, which threatens to destroy all order. When the truth is rejected, as it is done to this day, Yuvanashva leaves the world in search of a truth that transcends all human definitions.

The book tackles the questions of gender roles and discrimination very well. It explores the many relationships that define our lives. Parent-child, husband-wife, friendship, veneration and rejection. It draws richly from the many lessons in our ancient scriptures and presents a posy of wisdom. Though the plot was a little slow to start up, once it did there was no going back. Read it because it will impregnate you will some very worthy thoughts.         

Seven Sacred Rivers by Bill Aitken: Impressions

I picked this book up for 20 bucks from a raddiwala and the many times Mr. Aitken's views angered me, I wanted to fling it out of the window, knowing not much money would be wasted. But because Mr. Aitken is a mad man (like all men of faith are), he struck a love-hate chord with this mad woman. His oscillation between reverence and philistinism had my opinion of him swinging equally wildly. One page, I would be smiling at the Scotsman recognising the sanctity of our rivers, and the next page would have me raging, because how dare this foreigner criticise our ways?

But slowly I softened as I realised how uncomfortable Hindu discriminations - that we take as the normal order of things - must feel to an outsider. I began to understand the resentment he felt for our commercialisation of religion and nature - a worshipper as he was of the pristine. But what I did not agree with till the end was his condescending tone. Perhaps it is how the white man thinks/speaks, but to me he sounded only like one extremely ungrateful guest.

So this guest, in his sojourn across India, sought to understand our seven sacred rivers: Sindhu, Ganga, Yamuna, Saraswati, Godavari, Narmada and Kaveri. As he tried to follow each of their courses, he encountered more than just geological entities. Each river brought forth lessons in culture, history, geography, religion, nature and whatnot. While Bill Aitken's writing is a tad cold and objective, one cannot help but feel the warmth of a human touch here and there. Laced with wry humour, the author tells of the many adventures and misadventures of a solo traveller on a shoestring budget.

One laughs and frowns at many an interesting account. His experiences of ashram life and Gandhians are mixed; he admires the likes of Sundarlal Bahuguna, while the 'pompous' Vinoba Bhave he loathes. North India turns him off with priests being obnoxious, small businessmen being greedy, and everything generally being unclean and poverty-stricken. His admiration for South India is obvious with him finding the states cleaner, better organised, and the people better educated. Among the rivers too, he loves the southern Narmada better than any other, although he describes well his short romances with every river he meets.

Aitken is impressed by the Ganga and the Indus in their beautiful settings and might, whereas the Yamuna and Saraswati let him down. The Kaveri and Godavari cast their respective mild impressions on him, but Narmada has his heart. He goes off on trails of several other uncelebrated rivers and questions their religious statures, or lack of them. He traces several historical chapters, whereby ancient Buddhist pilgrim centres have either been seized by the Hindu order, or cast away in a bid for religious supremacy. He talks about several interesting religious cults and practices that have become strongly associated with each of these rivers.

However, Aitken's travels are too extensive and his account too hurried. Before you can drink in the locales of Kerala, he has already moved on to Ladakh. His fast-paced name-dropping is too dizzying even for a resident of India, and there is little time to savour the beauty of any of the rivers. Nevertheless, one is carried adrift in this journey - languorously, beautifully, pitifully, adventurously, mightily, crazily, softly or raucously - at different times with different rivers.          
          

How to create a perfect controversy

(Image courtesy:zazzle.com)

I present to you the world's shortest and most accurate instruction manual.

1. Get on Twitter

2. Hang around for a while.

3. Unleash a bold tweet. (Preferably involving a celeb)

*****

     Because Shashi Tharoor had one, Rajeev Masand had one, and even li'l Sonam Kapoor had one, I also wanted a controversy of my own.  So, on one fine Twitter day, I woke up and expressed my desire thus: "Wants to 'jackass' someone and create a Twitter outrage. Are you game? Are you a celebrity?" [For those who are completely at a loss for context, film journo Rajeev Masand called Akshay Kumar a 'jackass' and faced the film fraternity's wrath].

     But since I am no Angelina Jolie with people lining up to fulfill every desire of mine, no outrages occurred. 
     So I hung around and observed and revised those textbooks on 'No Publicity is Bad Publicity' and 'How to Copy-Paste Self to Page 3'. Every lesson in the science of eyeball grabbing ended with one axiom: If you want to be famous, create a controversy'. Thanks to Twitter, it is now as easy as 1-2-3 (read manual above).

     Unless you're the kind who wears a suit in his shower or protects his tweets, your thoughts are as naked on Twitter as any web baby. And thanks to the power of retweets, rallying and bullying come nice and easy.

    I took my third bold step on a Friday, which happened to be the birth anniversary of our freedom fighter Chandrashekhar Azad. I noticed a few tweets about how shameful it was that our media wasn't dedicating any airtime to him and how disgraceful it was that the media should be interested in Shah Rukh Khan's moves. Scold. Scold. Scold.

     Because it struck me as purist and childish, I ventured to boldly say what no one has said before. "Do only textbook heroes deserve worship? Why is Azad greater than, say SRK?"

     And then came the fireworks! Before I knew what was happening, my philo-logical question snowballed (shitballed is more like it) in to a miniature hate campaign. 

     "How can you compare the two? This is a shock!" said one.

     "Are you insane? How could you compare a great freedom fighter to a film star?", said another.

     "Shah Rukh Khan is a pornstar and dances at weddings for cash. How can you compare him to Azad?" said a particularly malicious one.

     "You are pathetic! You can't compare the two. Take back your words, now!" said yet another, seething with rage.

     From doubt to shock to malice to anger to condescension to patronising pity to insults to virtual blows, I saw it all in a matter of minutes. And because my genda-skin hasn't bloomed completely yet, I recoiled. I mumbled an apology of sorts and ran as far as my tweets could carry me. And I learned one thing. Twitter is no place for the profound. 140 characters are too little to make big philosophical propositions. The treatises are best kept for blogs. And so I will make mine here (and remember, this is MY blog. We play by MY rules). I will answer those bitter Twitter questions the way I meant to.

     The biggest objection of them purists was my comparison. I said, in essence, that Shah Rukh Khan is like Chandrashekhar Azad. Before you scream 'How???' in disbelief, I'll interject, 'How not?' 
      Let's dissect your shock to shreds with some pure reasoning. With all due respect to the martyr, let's keep emotions - patriotic and otherwise - aside. Let's discuss fundamentals. Let's throw your faux morality into the dustbin for a while.  
     Every era has a right to worship its heroes; and if more people in India care about SRK's toilet habits than what Azad did in the yellow pages of history, it makes perfect sense. We've all learnt that in our standard five textbooks anyway.    
     Shah Rukh Khan (SRK) is a movie superstar. We live in the age of TRPs. So, if you think the media should 'waste' its precious airtime on Azad, you're effing stupid. Just as nationalist newspapers back then wouldn't waste column space on a movie star. You may be a nationalist, idealist, purist and all that jazz, but wake up to the way the world whirls. It all boils down to the money, honey.
    OK, if money is too shallow for you, how about purpose? SRK works in the movies for fame and (pardon the redundancy) money. Azad worked to free his country. Both act/ed in ways that pleased their soul; that met the purpose of their life. We all live and die for what pleases us most. It could be fame or it could be freedom. To each his own, right?
    Now, for the question of contributions. Azad did a lot for his country. SRK is doing a lot for his country too - only the domains are different. We all play the parts we are destined for.
     What about means, you may ask. Azad died fighting for the freedom of his nation. SRK dances in weddings for money. Yes. True. Also, we all try to earn our keep. Only the denominations differ.
    They are both human beings, I say. The comparison is fair. "Hah! Tomorrow you may compare Azad to Kasab on that scale, then!" you smirk. "I totally will," I say. They are the same; if a government and the law of a land are made judges. Azad, pretty much, committed the same crimes against the British Indian government as Kasab did against the Indian government. They both committed murder. They both killed human beings. They both were motivated by passions justified to them. The end result is the same: a death sentence.       
     You can call Kasab a murderer, Azad a martyr and SRK a money mongering male whore, whatever. Your tags only depend on which side of the story you are on. Who are you and I to decide whether the use of this temporary shell of human flesh in this way or that, is good or bad? Nothing is absolute. Time and context changes all definitions. It makes a hero of a villain and a villain of a hero. 
     I rest my case.