संसारी sansārī

A New Perspective on Atheism

2011-12-25T21:56:00.000-05:00

Can we define a word by what it does not represent, rather than by what it does represent? Is it fair that we assume the general public will responsibly fill in the blanks and develop a coherent definition to describe an abstract and broad concept? The answer is a clear no. No astute person can expect the public to come to a unified, clear consensus over what a word means, unless an authority properly defines it. Therefore, I agree with neuroscientist Sam Harris that “no one ever needs to identify himself as a 'non-astrologer' or a 'non-alchemist'” (Harris). However, in order to shed light on the discrepancies in usage of the word “atheist,” I will employ the word to describe my own subjective views contrary to the objective connotation of “atheism” found in dictionaries – dictionaries that devolve the word to a hollow concept lacking depth or substance. As much of the world encounters atheism only in the form of a word, not in the form of a living, aspiring fellow human, I hope to exemplify the attributes of atheism not commonly exposed to the public. By examining the word from three different lenses: etymological undertones, personal perspective and impact, and greater social implications, one understands that “atheism” is not a cynical, unhappy “doctrine...that there is no god,” but a flexible belief content with different, but equally fulfilling values and ideals (“Atheism”).

One prime reason for the lack of understanding of atheism in modern society originates from the etymological meaning of the word itself. The roots of the word “atheism” infer a void in the belief, rather than define the true ideals of exploration, experimentation, and individualism inherent in the way most atheists view their surrounding. The word “atheism” originally came to English via the Greek “atheos” meaning “to deny the gods, godless.” And furthermore, “atheos” advances from its roots of “a + theos” – meaning “without a god” (“Atheist”). Regardless of the root, since sixteenth century English, those who do not subscribe to a god have been relegated to believing in nothingness, instead of a set of different, but still valuable beliefs. However, Greek is not the only language to lend itself to the dispossession of the godless through the word. Similarly, modern Indian languages deriving from Sanskrit also strip atheists of a word that substantiated their beliefs. The Sanskrit term “naastik” literally translates to “not believing, not pious” – once again highlighting a void, not a different range of appreciated values (Monier-Williams).

Though the dictionary definitions of atheism are not false, they under no circumstance fully represent the means though which atheists represent themselves, the means through which they find satisfaction, or the means through which they fill the vacuums of nothingness described by the dictionaries – or even that means for such fulfillment exist. And therefore, most people who do not association the word with a person that they know struggle to comprehend the legitimacy or substantiation of the belief itself. Perhaps the lack of success on the part of ancient (and modern) languages to bring forth a descriptive, value-oriented definition of the godless lifestyle involves the degree of subjectivity, flexibility, and personal initiative recognized under the broad umbrella of interpretations of atheism.

The personal nature of atheism is one that encourages free-thought, open-mindedness, curiosity, and individualism. And this might have proven both as a boon and a bane to the manner in which society sees and understands (or does not understand) atheists. Firstly, the flexibility of atheism with no supervising priest, rabbi, imam, or guru allows the non-religious to adopt a personal definition of their beliefs that they structure specifically around their lives and families, their goals and aspirations, their careers and education. Although many who identify themselves as atheists will commit to many basic perspectives, most define a set of values important to them. For example, British geneticist and biologist J.B.S. Haldane's definition of his core beliefs distinguishes him as a scientist:

My practise as a scientist is atheistic. That is to say, when I set up an experiment I assume that no god, angel, or devil is going to interfere with its course; and this assumption has been justified by such success as I have achieved in my professional career. I should therefore be intellectually dishonest if I were not atheistic in the affairs of the world. And I should be a coward if I did not state my theoretical views in public.

Haldane applies his belief of objectivity, curiosity, and individualism to the scientific process while acknowledging the role that this set of values plays in his everyday activities in the lab. As this excerpt emphasizes, just as people's religious values travel with them and immerse into their numerous other identities – the same sense of commitment to a different set of values occurs in the life of the non-religious.

Consequentially, the ways in which I understand atheism and its correlated values to filter into my life differ greatly from Haldane's. As a college student, I see the prevailing theory of fatalism which is present in all religions as pointless and detracting from life. Praying as I prepare for an exam is non-consequential; my own efforts can pull me through. I also refuse to be intoxicated; if I object to surrendering my fate to a god, how can I surrender my judgment to alcohol and drugs? Through rejecting fatalism, I feel responsible for my own actions and am aware that any goals I set may be achieved through my own will and not that of any god's Providence. When I am successful I commend only myself; when I fail, I censure only myself. As an Indian-American atheist, I have always been a pragmatic person, challenging the various superstitions rooted in the Indian and Hindu cultures. I find reciting Sanskrit incantations for protection, consulting priests for a propitious wedding date, or adorning an amulet for good luck to be an unnecessary attempt to leave the real practicalities of the world behind. Rather than escape these practicalities, I prefer to work with them. In all these ways, I define myself as an individual, an individual with an open mind, personal values, and societal responsibilities.

The ambiguous definition of the atheist found in dictionaries also fails to assess the social implications an atheistic population has on its surroundings. A 2006 study from the University of Minnesota manifests this prejudice against atheists. The study concluded that atheists formed the least trusted demographic in the United States. As sociologist Penny Edgell comments on the results of this study, the “findings seem to rest on a view of atheists as self-interested individuals who are not concerned with the common good.” Likewise, society does not award atheists the same degree of tolerance that atheists have been awarding to other diverse minority groups. Edgell continues to note that the American atheist is “a glaring exception to the rule of increasing tolerance over the last 30 years.” (Paulos). Common atheistic values of self-determination, education, political participation, and tolerance not only affect the individual, but also their societies as a whole. Therefore, the definition of atheists as only “godless” commits an injustice to atheists' contributions to society.

Pitzer College sociology professor Phil Zuckerman's analysis of declared atheists and their societies reveals trends that demonstrate against the view of atheists as apathetic, hateful, and depressed individuals alienated from their communities. On the contrary, the fewest murders occur in states with the highest percentage of atheists; only 0.2% of American prisoners are atheists. Societies with high proportions of atheists also benefit from greater tolerance toward homosexual and women's rights groups, as well as low levels of racial prejudice, and high levels of education (Cohen). Zuckerman also suggests that Sweden – arguable the most atheistic country in the world – donates the greatest percentage of its GDP to charity (Zuckerman). All these instances promote examples of greater cooperation, progressivism, and collectivism in societies rather than alienation, anger, and disillusionment stereotypically characterizing a secular, or clearly non-religious population.

These statistics also deny the common misconception that religion is equivalent to morality and that morality is equivalent to religion. This is not the case. One can indeed exist and prosper without the other. But how can we reverse this trend of outcasting atheists to the fringes while atheists themselves are attempting to integrate their societies? The definition and usage of the word “atheist” does not relay to the average man or woman a concrete description of what the godless incorporate into their lifestyle, ethics, or morals. And this ignorance keeps society and atheists distances my misunderstandings, misconceptions, and miscommunication.

To separate themselves from the range of ambiguity and implicit nature of the word “atheism,” many who do not identify themselves with any religion have chosen a new range of terms to explicitly identify their ideals and values. Terms such as “freethinking,” “humanism,” and “universalism” are all terms under the umbrella of “atheism” which which further substantiate a set of beliefs. For example, as a secular humanist, I believe that my personal decisions, choices, and ethics determine their specific consequences. I believe that power to accomplish is left to humans – and we must proactively make our goals as reality. Humanism advocates activism, not passive hope or faith.

But why a range of identities under an umbrella that believes in nothingness? Because that is a misconception propagated by the word “atheist,” that we believe in nothingness. The assimilation of new, different words each possessing a specific, unique definition – such as “freethinker,” “humanist,” or “universalist” – more clearly identify what atheism is and who atheists are, and not what we are not.

Given the controversial nature of the discussion over religion, words defined by vague or implicit terms such as “atheism” often lead to the spread of preconceived and ignorant notions. When a word itself cannot be defined accurately and concretely in words, how can one expect the public to react when they encounter a person whose identity, aspirations, and approach to life circle around that seemingly nebulous concept? I remember the regular pattern of conversation whenever I reveal to an acquaintance that I am a secular humanist, not a Hindu like my parents and ancestors. They normally look perplexed and crunch together their eyebrows. They sift through the various messages the hostile media and politicians shoot at them. And finally, they ask, “You don't believe in god? But you seem to be nice...”

Hindi, Urdu, and Hindustani: Where Commonalities End and Differences Begin

2011-12-23T16:07:00.015-05:00

A student from the United States makes her first trip to Delhi, India after spending four

semesters at the University of Michigan studying Hindi. In desperate need of a guidebook, she steps into a small, Hindu-owned store and asks,“Namaste. Mujhe ek achhii kitaab kii zaruurat hai. Kyaa aap merii madad kar sakte haiN?” (Namaste. I'm in need of a good book. Can you help me?). The storekeeper is stunned and compliments the student on her exceptional HINDI. However, the store does not stock the appropriate book. The student notices another store across the street. As she steps in, she notices the storekeeper is Muslim. Replacing a Namaste with a Salaam, she inquires about the book, employing the same word choice. Again, the storekeeper is surprised, and with a big smile on his face tells her, “Masha'Allah. Your URDU is perfect.” The puzzled student picks up her book and leaves the store.

This student had elected Hindi for the past four semesters, not Urdu! Yet, she is being

complimented for her conversational skills in this language. How is this possible? This episode depicts the nature of the Hindi-Urdu linguistic conflict at its most visible level. While notions of the two languages have diverged since independence, colloquial registers of Hindi and Urdu are almost indistinguishable from one another. This broader basis of vocabulary and syntax from which both Hindi and Urdu have developed is called Hindustani. This language is “the linguistic super family uniting all” across North India and into Pakistan (Khan 2006: 8). Moreover, it is the unifying language of the region, not of a particular race or religion (Singh 2003). Hindustani served as a lingua franca around Delhi to facilitate interaction between speakers of Khariboli and speakers of Arabic, Persian, and Turkish (Sinha 2000: 299). This language developed throughout the medieval ages and received the patronage of many British administrative institutions and various writers through the 13th-17th centuries (Sinha 2000: 300). This paper describes the fluid borders between what speech one considers as Hindi, Urdu, or Hindustani. And moreover, it explores why, in colloquial speech, certain Arabic-Persian features have gained popularity as opposed to their Sanskrit equivalents. And finally, how does the diversity in linguistic influences across North India and Pakistan translate into “linguistic politics?” In a region of the world characterized by volatile borders and fragile religious and social tension – how do linguistic choices matter?

But what are Hindi and Urdu, and more importantly, what do they signify in certain

circumstances? In which cases might a speaker be most definitely speaking Hindi or Urdu? And when might he or she be democratizing his or her speech using Hindustani? K. Gajendra Singh 2003 traces a history of the evolution of distinguished Hindi and Urdu identities post-Independence in the late 1940s. Newly independent India made its Hindi more Sanskritized and Pakistanis made their Urdu more Persianized. The outcome is a diglossia in society. Indians and Pakistanis speak relatively the same lingua franca of Hindustani on the streets – while notions of standard Hindi and standard Urdu have become polarized. Therefore, in an effort to avoid common Hindustani words, their media use a strict, artificial, stilted form of Hindi or Urdu. As Singh puts it most realistically, “the result that it is difficult for a common man to understand either Hindi or Urdu” in the “pure” form (Singh 2003).

In the case of Urdu, Tariq Rahman 2010 describes some of the reformations made to

standardize the language, in essence, to reflect a “pure” Muslim tradition. In what Rahman calls the “Muslimization of Urdu,” words from Sanskrit and local dialects were “purged out” in favor of Persian and Arabic words. In addition, allusions to a common Hindustani culture and land were replaced by references to Persian and Islamic culture and an Iranian landscape. Though the elite embraced this hyper-Persian form of speech, many others were alienated by this new, foreign understanding of Urdu (Rahman 2010: 90). The vast majority of Urdu speakers were a product of the Hindustani culture. India was their home and identity, not Iran.

Meanwhile, the newly-formed Republic of India was engaged in the translation of official

documents from English to Hindi. The outcome of this project was the creation of thousands of neologisms of Sanskrit origin describing administrative terms and practices. Examples of such neologisms which have survived into modern usage include pradhaan mantrii for prime minister, or raashTrapati for president. However, in effect, these “artificial” words lack any practical currency. Yet, these neologisms were still propagated through many spheres of influence including the Indian news media, the Indian government, and in matters of Hindu cultural context (Shackle and Snell 1990: 14). Even India's first Prime Minister, Jawaharlal Nehru said, “Aajkal jo bhaashaa nikal rahii hai pachaas percent merii samajh meiN nahiiN aatii.” (Of the language that is employed these days, 50% of it is unintelligible to me.) (Gandhi 2010).

For many reasons, one can accord the desired disparity between Hindi and Hindustani to

notions of “linguistic purity.” The Muslims were not alone in their intention of propagating cultural identity through a linguistic register. Hindu nationalists supported nationalizing a Sanskritized Hindi in hopes of invoking the concept of India as a Hindu-native nation (Shackle and Snell 1990: 43). This divergent behavior at the highest registers of Hindi and Urdu is based on something outside of linguistic factors – cultural and religious identity, nationalism. However, these “pure” registers are highly artificial and ideologically motivated.

With these bases for “pure” Hindi and Urdu in place, where do the people stand in their

daily speech in regards to this Arabic/Persian—Sanskrit spectrum? Prior to independence, the Subcontinent was divided in what Shackle and Snell call “The Urdu—Hindi—Hindustani

Debate.” While religious Hindus argued in favor of Hindi and the Devanagari script as India's national language, Muslims felt reluctant to neglect their own rich literary tradition in Urdu through the Nastaliq script. Gandhi offered Hindustani as a middle path in a compromise between both groups (Shackle and Snell 1990: 13). However, Gandhi received little support from the masses. And furthermore, Hindustani left unanswered the question of which script the nation would choose to adopt. And therefore, Hindustani was forgotten as the most practical, yet least ideologically satisfying of the choices.

But in reality, what does modern colloquial speech sound like throughout North India and

urban Pakistan? Regardless of whether speakers identify their language as Hindi or Urdu, why do they almost always choose certain synonyms over others? More specifically, why have Persian-Arabic loanwords better pervaded into popular speech? For example, the interaction the Michigan student engaged in with the Hindu storekeeper did not feature a single lexical item of Sanskrit origin. Each of the key nouns (kitaab for book, zaruurat for necessity, and madad for assistance) are loanwords of Arabic origin, yet would seem completely natural and expected as colloquial Hindi. In fact, repeating this sentence in a fully Sanskritized register would seem exceptionally stilted in a colloquial context (“Mujhe ek achhii pustak kii aavashyakataa hai. Kyaa aap merii sahaayataa kar sakte haiN?”).

The artificial nature of Sanskritized language is a result of many historical patterns in

society, government, and religion. Firstly, as Shyam Rao 1999 argues, Sanskrit was always a

dead language. Even in its “Golden Age” during the reign of the Gupta Empire, Sanskrit was not dispersed outside a “closely-knit circle of Brahmins, who jealously hid all knowledge...to themselves” (Rao 1999). The result was an identity centered around Sanskrit, a language far removed from the accessibility of the common Hindu or Indian (Neelakantan 2011). And therefore, many Sanskritized terms were not transmitted to a broader section of society. While Brahmins safeguarded their knowledge over Sanskrit, the common people of the Subcontinent were engaging with Muslim traders, rulers, and invaders since the 11th century. They settled the Subcontinent and brought with them their languages: Turkish, Persian, and Arabic (Singh 2003). And after almost three hundred years of Mughal Rule, Persian was the language of government up until 1837 (Robinson 1974: 31). Moreover, the Muslim community was not the only one educated in Persian. Even in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, Persian played a role in the education of middle-class Hindu boys (Shackle and Snell 1990: 10). In fact, many Hindu writers published in Persian, including the Kashmiri Brahmin Tej Bahadur Sapri (Robinson 1974: 31).

The Persian-Arabic tradition maintained its linguistic strength against Sanskrit when the

British replaced Persian with English and introduced Urdu into the education system (Baxter 2004: 172). Under the British, Urdu gained favorable status as it was the language of the ruling Muslim bureaucratic elites (of Persian origin) across the region. Many necessary administrative terms in Persian and Urdu had already existed prior to the arrival of the British. In many ways, the British accepted Urdu as the native lingua franca of the North (Seal 1968: 304). Unlike Sanskritized Hindi, it was already a part of the public sphere for centuries prior to colonization. Urdu had absorbed elements of Hindustani and other foreign languages naturally. Most importantly, Urdu and its Persian-Arabic vocabulary had spread outside of a Muslim base into most communities. However, many see Sanskritized Hindi as an artificial language, a language releasing archaic words from a vault. The result was a dynamic Urdu and a forced Hindi which was far from everyday usage and inaccessible to the common speaker (Kelley 1992). And due to the factors listed above, the Hindustani that most Urdu and Hindi speakers actually use in everyday contexts is more Persian-Arabic influenced.

Finally, what does it mean when the institutions of Hindi and Urdu are remarkable

different from the spoken variety of either languages? How does ideology clash with reality to create a strategic “linguistic politics” in the Subcontinent. How do geopolitical tensions between India and Pakistan and communal tensions between Indian Hindus and Indian Muslims manifest themselves through language? This diglossia found between the government and literary spheres and the colloquial sphere is easily seen through two sorts of media which reflect two separate entities with very different goals. Firstly, the 'Hindi' film industry which represents speech in a quotidian context. And secondly, the news media of either India and Pakistan which represent the high registers of polarized Sanskrit and Persian varieties, respectively (Singh 2003).

The 'Hindi' Film Industry (Bollywood) has contributed in large part to the propagation of

Hindustani as a reflection of the type of colloquial speech used by millions of Indians and

Pakistanis. As a commercial institution, the Industry seeks to become accessible to as broad an audience as it can, and therefore employs Hindustani – “the most common blend of vernaculars throughout North India” (Alter 2007: 70). This decision allows audiences from across India as well as Pakistan to freely understand the films in a manner which Sanskritized Hindi would not have.

Whenever the film language became too Sanskritised, the films have not been very popular. At the same time, when a film on 'Razia' (a Turkish Queen of Delhi) utilised too Persianised Urdu, its lack of popularity could in some ways be attributed to the difficulty of the masses in understanding it. Hindustani with its vast vocabulary, form and literary variety provides the lyric and dialogue writer all the richness, elegance and nuances to express himself. (Singh 2003).

In addition, the Industry owes much of its fame and success to the Urdu tradition. Ghazals,

qawwali, shaa'iri (poetry), Sufism, and Nautch have become recurring themes in Indian cinema with roots from Turkish and Persian literature and culture. And of course these cultural institutions employ allusions and metaphors from their respective languages to describe sentiments such as love, passion, and longing (Kavoori 2008: 46). Thereby, allusions to the Arabic tale of Laila-Majnu or the Persian Shirin-Farhad entered the larger psyche of the Subcontinent as these pieces of cultural capital were propagated by the most influential film industry in the region. This phenomenon further emphasized Hindustani and Arabic-Persian roots in favor of Sanskrit equivalents. For example, millions would hear and want to replicate stars on the big screen using Arabic-Persian loanwords for love (ishq, muhabbat) in place for the Sanskrit synonym (prem). However, if the 'Hindi'' Film Industry retained much of its pre-Independence Hindustani tradition, the broadcast media had very much diverged from its common Hindustani roots. An emphasis on cultural, societal, and linguistic differences were encouraged to form national solidarity and identity. In effect, this divergence demonstrated a manufactured linguistic wall between India and Pakistan, Hindus and Muslims.

Thus, the broadcast media of India and Pakistan had become polarized with each nation

wanting to completely deny the common linguistic relationship it shares with the other. In the case of India, “Doordarshan Hindi” – “a stylistically Sanskritized form of the language” was named after the state-owned Hindi news outlet. Aside from the practical difficulties of understanding this form of Hindi, it also came with religious and political baggage. Radio and television programming was controlled by the central government which preferred Sanskritized vocabulary in all spoken language.

In addition, this variety was not only seen as Hindi, but as Hindu. This hyper-Sanskrit

variety highlighted differences in Hindu and Muslim identity and past (Ludden 1996: 100). The nationalistic rhetoric behind this variety also plays on the notion of Urdu and Islam as foreign institutions brought to the Subcontinent through violent invasion. In this way, a dichotomy was created between “virtuous” Hindi and “vicious” Urdu. In the press, Urdu was seen as a cultural force capable of turning Hindus away from their faith. Also featured was the strict concept of Urdu being Muslim and Hindi being Hindu (Jones 1992: 144). In essence, this was an either/or debate; Hindustani was a moot choice as no one could be part Hindu, part Muslim (Jones 1992:145). Dr. Imtiaz Hasnain refutes these conceptions of Urdu as a foreign, Muslim-only, even Pakistani entity. And moreover, he outlines the marginalization Indian speakers of Urdu face as a result of this religious connection. As many Indians feel Pakistani identity was created through Urdu and Islam (Hasnain 2007: 16), Hasnain cites the status of Muslims in India as hardly better off than most Dalits (Hasnain 2007: 3). This divisive “linguistic politics” plays on language as a tool of cultural, national, and religious identity.

Perhaps the best metaphor to describe the relationship between Hindi and Urdu is that of

Siamese twins destined to coexist, but the surgery of Partition ensured that each would develop its own path (Shackle and Snell 1990: 13). This history exhibits the volatile nature of language as an indicator of identity. Hindi and Urdu had existed together for centuries, but when presented with the fork in the road, each was able to dress itself differently. Most importantly, though the universal colloquial speech – Hindustani – has not changed since before Independence, it will be interesting to see whether the polarized nature of Hindi and Urdu will affect colloquial speech into the future. Already, as a result of economic liberalization, satellite TV channels have become popular in comparison to state-owned media. These new channels do not necessarily adhere to the government prescribed hyper-Sanskritized or hyper-Persianized speech. They target the urban youth. Therefore, perhaps it will not be Persian or Sanskrit which characterize tomorrow's Hindustani – but English.

The Evolution of Caste and its Modern Meaning

2011-11-17T10:58:00.003-05:00

“The West remains obsessed by the caste system,” commented French writer François Gautier. But what provokes such intense interest in the Indian caste system? Surely other cultures are the subjects of their own hierarchical systems, yet the caste system is seen differently. Perhaps the ancient scriptural roots peak the interest of some, or the manner in which caste still affects daily ritual and interaction entices others. Either way, it is important to demystify caste of the exoticism which it has suffered – exoticism primarily by the West. Therefore, this third module studies caste through concrete anthropological, historical, and political scopes. Thereby, the impact of caste as individuals proceed through various stages of their lives becomes apparent. From ritual rites such as birth and marriage, to perfunctory actions of eating, to the democratic process of elections and alliance-building, caste rests in the back of everyone's minds. Furthermore, the salience of caste in such diverse facets of life and society leads to gaps in equality and opportunity. How do the discriminated reposition themselves to gain equality? How do they form an identity and demand opportunity? All of the above questions narrate a story of ancient notions of identity within a society in conflict with modern notions of individual freedom and equality.

The content of this module focuses on two separate themes. The first theme is of the definition of caste itself and its evolution throughout the Subcontinent's era of colonization into the modern period. In understanding the definition of caste, one can imagine caste relations as a pairing of interactions between the 'pure' and the 'polluted'. Furthermore, society propagates caste through notions of food possessing the same characteristics, such that consumption of meat and alcohol is frowned upon by “the pure.” Other interactions such as the ritual relationships between a king and a priest demonstrate the complementary roles which different castes play (Fuller 482). This anthropological view is one of inter-caste interdependence for the smooth function of society. The four varnas of Hindu scripture then underwent a change under British colonialism as caste was chosen by the British bureaucracy as the main means for categorizing the people (Bhatia “Understanding”). As Fuller confirms, “The traditional Indian village with its traditional caste system was, in large part, a project of the British Raj” (Fuller 480). Another important term in discourse over caste is the term jati – a term more prevalent in the vernacular, quotidian references to caste as kinship and community. Through jati is how most Hindus experience the caste system – be it at times of marriage or any other auspicious event based on kinship networks. Many jatis are also regionally based and therefore tie people into an even closely knit network. Jati, based on a more specific qualification than varna, may indicate one's profession, and thus the conditions in which one will spend his or her life (Fuller 477). Therefore, one may interpret caste as distantly or intimately as one desires. And in today's Republic, although casteism is illegal, it most definitely is not ignored; neither the people nor the politicians are caste-blind.

This discussion then transitions into the modern response to the caste system by low-caste Dalits who seek to effect change. Do they see themselves as part of the system or as outliers? What accommodations do they ask as citizens of the Republic? And in what ways do caste status and class status overlap – are they interchangeable? As Mridu Rai explains, “The State in India does not recognize caste, and yet the history of India shows that caste, far from fading away, has returned to the fold of politics today.” This statement further enforces the idea of caste as a network, a means to connecting with individuals of a similar background. And in the case of politics, one elects into office individuals with similar lineage, experiences, goals, and ideals. As Indian politician V.N. Gadgil remarked, “In India you do not cast your vote, you vote your caste.” And thus, this caste politics gives birth to jargon such as “Scheduled Castes,” “Scheduled Tribes,” and “Other Backwards Classes.” Each are groups of traditionally underprivileged communities which are now awarded a form of affirmative action – reservations in public education and employment – to lessen the gap created by centuries of discrimination (Guha 600). By 1995, two million Dalits were admitted into work, though they remained economically “impoverished” (Guha 606). Along with admittance into public employment and education, many Dalits also found themselves in the highest rungs of the political sphere. Mayawati, serving her fourth term as Chief Minister of India's most populous state, is also head of the Bahujan Samaj Party – representing a Dalit constituency (Guha 607). Despite the success of a few from underprivileged communities, the vast majority of lower caste individuals face many hurdles in finding success or even an opportunity to prove themselves.

Although I was aware of caste before this module, my understanding was mostly restricted to my own caste and the caste of my family friends. My understanding of caste sincerely lacked exposure to the lifestyles and practices of lower caste individuals, especially the Dalits. Reading the two poems and the short story “Untold Hitlers” provided me with insight into this section of society. Firstly, Omprakash Valmiki's poetry reveals a frustrated, angry attitude toward being outcast for centuries – left with only “leavings to eat” and “hand-me-downs to wear” (Valmiki). Secondly, the short story “Untold Hitlers” exposed me to the fact of transient castes which are not fixed. These classes move up or down the hierarchy as they acquire wealth, popularity, or land. “Untold Hitlers” is a story of land-workers from the village who have succeeded a land-owning zamindar in post-Independence India. They travel to the city where they wish to purchase a tractor. The business owner offers with a hint of nostalgia, “There used to be just one thakur who ruled over the area, but now you big peasants have become the new thakurs” (Detha). This concept of post-Independence mobility suggests change for some newly lang-owning castes, yet the system remained in place. And as the story suggests, even the most underprivileged person can find someone beneath him to violate.

Alongside my new knowledge of the conditions of Dalits as well as the mobility which some castes enjoyed, some interesting questions were discussed in class. First, were non-Hindus (namely Muslims and Christians) outside the influence of the caste system? And second, how do caste and class reflect on one another? Both these questions reflect the nature of caste as a pervasive culture phenomenon, not one isolated within the Hindu community. Although both Christianity and Islam in theory professed equality, there existed Dalit-like groups in both communities (Fuller 490-491). This widespread presence of societal hierarchy and a clear out-group suggests that scripture is not the only force pushing for caste, but that caste differences often inherently result in class differences.

Returning to Gautier's comment, the West might in fact be obsessed about caste when dealing with India – and perhaps even rightly so. At each point of India's history, factors seem to increase collective consciousness of caste rather than debilitate it. Be it in scripture, colonialism, or modern politics, people desperately seek a way to identify themselves and organize themselves. They try to build a story of lineage. Unfortunately, the caste system only accords this power to those at the top. Yet, the underprivileged also seek to build their narrative, too. As the Dalit protagonist of the 2011movie Aarakshan sings to his country, “Ek chance to de de merii jaan / tum phir uRaan dekhnaa” (Give me one chance, my love / And watch me take flight).

Freedom Park, Bangalore

2011-08-20T18:42:00.001-04:00

This is a slideshow of photos documenting the afternoon I spent at Freedom Park in Gandhi Nagar, Bangalore. This ongoing rally is one of many taking place around India and abroad in accordance with the India Again Corruption movement -- with its neo-Gandhian figurehead, Anna Hazare. These photos are from Friday, August 19th.

The music is the official anthem of the movement and was playing on loud speakers at the Park.

Hyderabad - "Heart of the Indian Peninsula" Part 2

2011-08-07T09:03:00.003-04:00

The second part of my trip to Hyderabad continues right where the first installment left off. The insightful experiences and anecdotes are pretty much through...and we're faced with some more routine obstacles over the course of the next two days...

July 29

The morning of the 29th, I got a call from Shareef as I was in the middle of catching up on taking notes from the previous day's travels. Apparently the car wasn't running. Not exactly what you want to hear when you have a day's worth of sightseeing scheduled ahead of you. Turns out there was a problem with the car's battery charge. The car was left outside as heavy rains poured down on the city overnight. Shareef called me down to help push the car, and after much effort, we failed to get the car to start once again. We realized we needed to disconnect the battery and take it somewhere for charging. The guesthouse attendant suggested we head to nearby Erragedda for the repair.

Neither of us knowing the area very well, Shareef and I hailed an auto rickshaw driver who took us to a repair shop and stayed with us to make sure the shop would open. While waiting, we had some chai and Kiran arrived. Kiran took our place and waited outside the store so that Shareef and I could leave to find some breakfast.

Though the sign outside the store said the store would open at 9:30am...in actuality, the owner arrived around 10:30am (the ubiquity of 'desi time' is REALLY irritating in some situations). The owner provided us with a spare as the original battery would be charged by the next day. Once back at the guesthouse, Shareef and Kiran re-installed the battery...and we headed to Golconda Fort.

From The Archaeological Survey of India:

Lying to the west of Hyderabad city at a distance of 11 km, the historic Golkonda Fort derives its name from a Telugu word ‘Golla Konda’ which means Shepherd’s Hill. With its extensive and elevated fortifications it was a landmark that governed the destiny of the south. The fort originally belonged to the Kakatiyas of Warangal. This is testified by the over-door carvings and relief work in stucco consisting of lions, peacocks, griffins and lotus at the entrance of Balahisar. In AD1363 it was ceded to the Baihmanis. After their downfall in AD1518 it became the capital of the Qutb Shahi kings (AD 1518-1687). The fort was extended and substantially strengthened by these kings with massive fortification walls having bastions and battlements. Subsequently Aurangazeb annexed it to the Moghal Empire (AD 1687) during the reign of Abul Hasan Tana Shan, the last ruler of the Qutb Shahi dynasty and appointed Asaf Jah as the Subedar of the Deccan province. Asaf Jah declared independence in AD1713 as Nizam-ul-Mulk and the Nizams held sway over Hyderabad until AD 1948.

After climbing to the top of the Fort, we drive through a series of narrow streets to the nearby Qutb Shahi Tombs.

From the World Heritage Convention:

The Qutb Shahi tombs complex consists of 30 tombs, mosques and a mortuary bath. The tombs belong to the rulers of the Qutb Shahi Dynasty, their queens and children and the nobles who faithfully served them. It contains the epigraphically documented tombs of five of the dynasty's seven sultans, as well as those of another four members of the royal family, spanning the 130-year period from 1543 to 1672. The Qutb Shahi tombs collectively constitute an outstanding example of an Indo-Muslim dynastic necropolis and is the most extensive and best epigraphically documented in all of India.

One of many tombs in the Qutb Shahi Complex

Detail on a Mosque in the Complex

After touring the Qutb Shahi Tombs, we chose to eat lunch in the city rather than at the APTDC-furnished restaurant the the Tombs. We made our way through rough traffic to Ameerpet for lunch at Swagath where we were served a traditional South Indian thali-style meal with several courses of breads and rice/curry dishes. After lunch, we headed across the busy street to the RS Brothers department store before taking a drive through one of Hyderabad's most affluent neighborhoods: Banjara Hills. The drive to our final destination also took us through an area of town aptly named "Hitec City" for the campus-like arrangement of IT companies clustered in neighborhood.

Our last attraction in Hyderabad, Shilparamam, is an "arts and crafts village" to preserve the traditional crafts and folk cultures of the area. In essence, the park indulged in a variety of replications of village life and traditional artisanal lifestyles in such villages. The park was a welcomed experience different from the noise, pollution, and tacky commercialism of the city itself. I imagine Shilparamam as a museum or resort of sorts for natives who themselves want to connect with a nostalgic model of the life lived by their ancestors. As India becomes an urban majority, it provides an escape from the stress of city life...a glimpse into an alternative, forgotten lifestyle.

Hyderabad - "Heart of the Indian Peninsula" Part 1

2011-07-30T23:22:00.001-04:00

"It is the sixth most popular city and the sixth-most populous urban agglomeration in India. It is known with the sobriquet 'City of Pearls', and referred as 'Heart of the Indian Peninsula' by the Time Magazine US. In 2011, The New York Times has featured Hyderabad in the list of must-see places of world."

July 27

By 10am the morning of the 27th, four of us left the hills of Sri Sailam. Shareef (our driver) and I sat in the front while my grandma and one of my aunt's friends - Lavanya - occupied the back. We got onto the one road running outside the compound which heads straight to Hyderabad - the capital city of Andhra Pradesh (a fact which is being hotly contested at the moment). The drive consisted of a descent through the jungle hills with scatterings of monkeys, birds, pigs, and other animals on the road attracted by food. The initial drive to Hyderabad was quick and simple, however it took just as much time traveling within the city limits to our destination. Hyderabad traffic puts Bangalore traffic to shame, plus the distances in the city seem greater.

This first day in Hyderabad, we reached our relative's home for refreshments and I headed out with our guide (Kiran) and Shareef to the Necklace Road/Hussain Sagar area for the evening. This area is home to one of the most iconic figures in Hyderabad - a monolithic statue of Buddha in the middle of the lake. To reach the statue, we walked through Lumbini Park - a fair with attractions, games, and green spaces in the city. Kiran told me that Hyderabadis consider this area as a beach to enjoy during the evening-time. Finally, we took a ferry ride to the middle of the lake and walked around the platform upon which the statue rested. There were tourists from around India, Asia, the Middle East, and the West. Hyderabad, like Bangalore, is another city that can boast of a modern, International urban reputation.

After arriving back at Lumbini Park, the three of us drove back to Secunderabad for dinner at my relatives'. The evening traffic was immense and we reached the home much later than expected. By the time I prepared for dinner, the electricity had gone out. Our hosts prepared a dinner of chicken biriyani, fried fish, and shrimp. After being served so many of these protein-heavy meals in homes. I've come up with a certain theory to explain this. For some reason, non-vegetarian dishes are considered a sort of "premium" in India. And therefore, our hosts want to provide us with the best to show that they are not cutting any corners. However, when you are dining at a different house every day, a meal of biriyani every night is genuinely tiring.

By 9:00pm, my grandma and I departed from Secunderabad for the guesthouse where we would spend the next few nights. Shareef took the passenger seat and Kiran took over the wheel - an efficient decision as Kiran knows the roads and can drive. To end the day, the four of us arrived at the guesthouse around 10:15pm. The room was large, air-conditioned, with two twin beds. I settled down, took a shower, and the lights were off by 11pm.

July 28

The night was extremely cold with the air conditioning set at 16 degrees Celsius and blowing straight at my bed. Shareef came by the room around 7am and we ordered a breakfast of idlis with chutney from a nearby outdoor eatery. After eating, the three of us wait in the room for Kiran and the car. Apparently Kiran is delayed in traffic, so Shareef and I leave the guesthouse for a brief walk around the neighborhood and end up sitting on the roof of the guesthouse. The roof hosts a spectacular view of the city -- and numerous temples and mosques. We spoke in Urdu about the places we would visit and the ubiquity of cell phones in India. At first, I had to strain my ears a bit and concentrate in order to understand his dialect, but with each day and each conversation, our discussions became more fluid.

We returned back to the room and Kiran arrived. We drive to Salar Jung Museum which hosts a variety of artifacts from around the world -- akin to a Smithsonian museum. There's one thing you need to keep in mind about Indian sightseeing -- Indians and foreigners are charged different entrance fees. For example Rs 10 for domestic visitors and Rs 250 for international visitors. I always buy the domestic ticket without a problem, however at Salar Jung, the guard seemed to have a reason to doubt me. The guard asked Kiran, "Indian hai yaa foreigner?" (Is he Indian or a foreigner?). The guard, still not convinced, had a test for me, "Us ko Hindi aati hai?" (Does he know Hindi?). Thankfully, I was able to respond in Hindi as if it was my mother language. WIN! After that, the guard let me go. :)

Outside Salar Jung Museum

We toured a few rooms of the museum and stopped by the food court for dosas and coffee for lunch. After lunch, we toured the upstairs before leaving the museum.

Our next destination was the Charminar, another immensely iconic landmark of Hyderabad. The monument is located in the crowded, Muslim majority Old City -- full of mosques and bazaars. Shareef's family resides in the neighborhood and his cousin, Sameer, joined us after we descended from visiting the Charminar. With Shareef and Sameer, I walked to Mecca Masjid -- the largest mosque in South India. Sameer told me of how every Friday the entire area is full of people attending jummah prayer. On our walk through the mosque grounds, I learned that Sameer is sixteen years old and works at a family clothing showroom. His English was also rather non-existent, so the three of us spoke in Urdu as a common language. Leaving Mecca Masjid, we crossed the street to visit Shareef's aunt and uncle. His uncle owned a swimming pool -- which was surprisingly closed...surprising given the heat of the afternoon. I said my salaams...and we proceeded home to meet Shareef's aunt.

Charminar

I had to duck my head a little to enter through the door of the small house. Shareef's aunt was laying on a cot watching Telugu serials. We said our salaams and sat down to spend a few minutes chatting. She first insisted that we eat or drink something. She brought cold water for everyone, and as tempted as I was to accept, I had to refuse: "Yahaan ka paani mere liye bahut khatarnaak hai." (The water here is very dangerous for me). After Shareef also confirmed that I've only been drinking bottled water, she continued: "Theek hai. Thanda mangwaaenge." (That's fine. We'll order a soda drink). I again firmly refused not wanting to give them any trouble. We continued talking for a few minutes about where I'm staying and what I'm doing in India. We then got up, thanked her, and left to head back to the car.

On the walk back, Shareef suggested that Sameer take me to a nice place for real local tea. We headed to a crowded cafe just a footfall away from the Charminar. The place had excellent, sweet chai served with fresh cookies that literally melted in my mouth.

View from atop Charminar

Of all the experiences I had in India so far, the time I spent with Shareef and Sameer that afternoon was surely the most rewarding and insightful. For the first time, I used Urdu to break a language barrier with people whom I otherwise would not be able to converse with -- or spend time with. I had the opportunity to see the Charminar neighborhood with locals who knew the stories and rich history of the landmarks since childhood. Sameer was surely a great guide and it was personally enriching to interact with others my own age, but from a greatly different background -- with a different past and future. Moreover, the remarkable hospitality Sameer's family showed me was not surprising, but definitely appreciated. They seemed poor, yet so willing to accomodate me in any way to make me feel comfortable. They treated me like their own.

Shareef and Sameer outside Mecca Masjid with Charminar in the background

From the Charminar area, we stopped at Sultan Bazaar where Shareef and I browsed around for a while. Then, on the way back to the guesthouse, I picked up McDonald's for everyone. I was definitely looking forward to the chicken sandwich after my long stay in isolated Sri Sailam. Back at the guesthouse, Shareef and I spent a long evening together while my grandma rested. On the roof of the guesthouse, overlooking the lights of the city, we discussed topics such as society in India, the lack of unity in Indian society, and the role of religion in India. I was shocked at how much we agreed on and how much our observations had in common. He confirmed a lot of my observations and I listened to his drama-filled stories about life in his town. We stayed up together until 10:30pm like this -- when the mosquitos began annoying me. By this time, I could understand his dialect much better and he told me my Urdu had become more fluent as well. Today was a GREAT day!

Sri Sailam

2011-07-26T22:44:00.156-04:00

Boarded the APSRTC bus to Sri Sailam, on July 22, at 5:07pm

With each passing week of my stay in India, I feel like I'm witnessing something closer and closer to "real" India -- farther and farther away from the malls and amenities of the upper crust and closer to what the average Indian witnesses in the course of his or her life. At the moment, I'm far from the swanky new Bengaluru International Airport and seated in a bus parked at Kempegowda (aka Majestic) Bus Stand.

The India of the bus station (and of public transport in general) is unlike that of the more privileged private establishments. At these bus and train stations, people are forced to come together. Regardless of how they live their lives -- which stores they shop at, which neighborhoods they live in, where they work -- people come assemble to stand on the same platform at the rail station or outside the same door to board a bus. Sure, some might disappear into a comfortable AC rail car or a posh Volvo bus, but the fact that they must all resort to the same institution with a common purpose of traveling from the same Point A to the same Point B is what matters. It is really a pity that the United States does not maintain a similar institution when it comes to public transport accessible to the masses.

The mood as passengers settle into their seats for the over 12 hour drive is actually rather festive. Unlike the ambience on airplanes or on the Volvo AC buses that I had previously traveled on, everyone was socializing and talking to each other. People were passing their babies around. Everyone was giddy and smiling as the bus departed.

Still on the bus, at 8:11pm

I must admit that this non-AC bus has been much more comfortable and enjoyable than a Volvo Bus. The cool breeze from the open air is perfect compared to the freezing, stale air available on AC buses. For dinner, the bus stopped at a roadside dhaba. The place is dark and I can hear old Kannada songs playing on a set of speakers somewhere outside. Sitting in the bus, everyone is addressing each other by "akka" and "anna," it's become really difficult to tell who is actually family and who is just using that form of address with fellow passengers.

July 24

Sri Sailam, a very small town in the middle of the Nallamala Forest, is known mainly as a popular pilgrimage spot and, more recently, for the hydropower project established along the Krishna River. As engineering nor religion are of any particular interest to me, practically the only reason why this town is on my itinerary is because my aunt's family lives here where my uncle serves as Superintending Engineer for the project. This is one of the few places where I do not mind staying at home for the day. I feel at home in Sri Sailam, very relaxed and at ease away from the noise and pollution of the city. I passed a few days in just that manner -- at home with family, with our dog Preeti, and observing the activities of monkeys that visit daily.

On the 24th, we drove from the residential colony to the town of Sri Sailam to board a ferry ride that took us in a circular course through the gorge area and toward the dam. The amount of passion and pride my uncle can demonstrate toward the dam project is amazing. On the ferry he repeatedly urges me and my cousin to take photos and videos of the project. By the time the ferry ride ended and we climbed the stairs from the banks of the river to the city, we were drenched in sweat. In living in the hills, one doesn't realize how hot the weather truly is at ground level. On the way back home, we stopped at a new Biodiversity Park where research is being done on a variety of species of snakes, insects, etc found in the Nallamala Forest.

A strong theme during my stay in Sri Sailam is the amount of "perks" people of high positions in government circles receive in India. In previous trips to the area and on today's outing to the ferry, a man named Damodar (sp?) accompanied us and escorted us past lines, past ticket counters, etc. In the larger scheme of government, if people of such small positions are awarded special treatment as I and my family were, is it really surprising that the big fishes (the Chief Ministers and members of Parliament) are swallowing billions of rupees from public funds? Corruption starts small...and I have a lot more to say about this. Keep reading!

July 25

Today was a quieter day. We were supposed to visit the main Mallikarjuna temple in Sri Sailam today, but my uncle's calendar dictated that this day was not auspicious enough, so that plan was delayed. My response: "Isn't going to take a darshan from god ALWAYS supposed to be a good thing? I can't imagine that the deity shows varying levels of benevolence on different days. But then again it's religion...it's not supposed to make any sense." -_-

However, the day did consist of a visit to the Sai Baba temple within the residential colony. I visited this same temple and met the temple care-takers last summer along with an intelligent debate about the logical existence of god and the purpose/reason behind worship. The same debate continued this year when I went to the temple in the morning with my grandmother.

The discussion in Hindi led to a few questions on my part:

If god is benevolent, why are there so many innocent, good people suffering from war, poverty, natural crises, etc
If god is benevolent, why must we perform so many rituals and decorations of deities? Shouldn't internal prayer be enough? The money people drop into Hundis and use to adorn murtis with garlands, silk, and jewelry can be used for more purposeful humanitarian causes.

The answers I received were the same that any religious individual will tell you - just leave it to Baba (substitute Jesus/Allah/Krishna) and think about Him and everything will be alright. Needless to say, I was not satisfied. Nonetheless, I look forward to meeting this family and having these discussions. They and I come from such drastically different backgrounds and with such different perspectives that it's amazing we can come together and have a conversation together without any animosity. Sometimes the poorest people are the most open-minded and genuine; they hold their core beliefs close, but without the damaging ego and assuming nature that the rich possess.

Today, I also got a chance to meet and talk to Shareef, our driver in Sri Sailam who would also accompany us to Hyderabad for a few days. It's rare that I get to meet people my age in India who are outside my family, and if I do, I face a language barrier. However, with Shareef, I was able to speak Urdu today and make conversation with him during a few hours in Sundipenta.

July 26

This afternoon, my uncle, grandmother, and I drove to Sri Sailam to visit the Mallikarjuna Temple. Apparently crowds were high in the afternoon and we even proposed shifting the visit to the evening. I visited the temple last year, and it's one of those places (like Tirupati) that doesn't offer much to non-believers. You need some level of belief to get super excited and wait for hours to see a black stone, which might also be hidden behind a curtain.

Once again we were accompanied by the Damodar character, he took us straight passed the lines, opened up direct pathways to the deities, held the crowds away from us so that we could spend time in front of the deities. Apparently a chief priest also recognized my uncle, and the result was a "superb" darshan and abhishekham.

Now, I have a problem with this, and I made it clear on the drive back home. There were perhaps thousands of devotees packed tightly, waiting in line, and herded like cattle, passed the deities. What is so special about our group that we should be permitted to walk right past these people? Isn't the satisfaction from the pilgrimage supposed to be earned from waiting in line and suffering in order to receive the darshan? Isn't everyone supposed to be equal in front of god? Does god really want a longer, more thorough audience with us just because we might have more money or status? The only reason our abhishekham was "superb" and the thousands of other dedicated devotees probably only walked past a curtained deity -- is money.

The response I got was that we have things to do and cannot afford to wait in those lines. I can guarantee that this isn't true. So many people are taking time out of their lives, sacrificing potential earnings to show their devotion. To those people without the status, a single rupee earned must definitely possess more value than it does to us. I didn't receive any other reason. My grandmother brushed it off with a "You don't understand..." I'm rather sure that is not the case either.

I get rather intense when it comes to the conduct I've been noticing inside temples. So much of the experience seems to revolve around financial capacity -- unlike what I've witnessed in churches or mosques. This theme will surely resurface later on.

Now a new day... on to Hyderabad!!

Day Trip to Shravanabelagola, Halebid, and Belur

2011-07-19T03:57:00.000-04:00

On Saturday, I took a day trip from Bangalore to the towns of Shravanabelagola, Halebid, and Belur. The tour was with the government-run KSTDC (Karnataka State Tourism Development Corporation). The tour departed from Badami House in Bangalore at 6:30 am and the group was a mix of local South Indians, Indian tourists from other parts of India (I met a woman visiting from Mumbai), and international tourists (there were some Chinese, Swedes, and a few NRIs too).

It is said that a picture is worth a thousand words, so with this post, I will let my photographs direct the narrative and raise some of my observances with the detail of each photograph. Enjoy!

Once on the highway, around 9:00am, our bus stopped at a small roadside dhaba eatery for breakfast. We bought tickets for a certain meal and walked up to the counter where people were dishing out plates and plates of idlis and vadas and cups of coffee -- surprisingly quickly and efficiently. The place and its itself wasn't inspiring; it was dark and crowded, but the food was excellent. Probably best of all. This meal cost around Rs. 25 or 50 cents!

Our first stop was the town of Shravanabelagola around 158 kilometers from Bangalore. The name of the town translates to "the white pond of the monk" and this pond can be seen on the left side of the photo of the town (posted above). This town is one of the most important pilgrimage sites of Jainism -- a religious tradition founded on the principles of renunciation and minimalism.

The journey to the top consisted of around 600 stone-carved steps to the top of the hill. We thought the ascent would be difficult and stopped every few minutes for a deserved "photo break." However, by the time we had toured the top, the rains had begun and the descent on the slippery, wet stone steps took longer than expected. A few times we saw women being carried in straw carriages by a group of four or five men to the top. The excess of labor in India leads to so many creative possibilities to make lives easier for the rich.

After about another hour of travel, we reached Halebid. On the drive from Shravanabelagola to Halebid, we passed through many small towns and cities. Driving through these smaller cities in a large luxury Volvo coach bus really makes one aware of the privilege one has. While these buses might be ubiquitous in the metropolises, in these small towns, people take a good 5-10 seconds just to stare at the bus. You get the same feeling one might get when wearing large, gaudy jewelry only to dine at a fast food restaurant. You really realize that the vast majority of Indians could never fathom spending almost Rs. 1000 or $20 in one day just to tour temples -- people have more pressing concerns.

Of the three places sites I toured that day, Halebid was definitely the most impressive. In addition to the site itself, we had an excellent guide whose ability to exaggerate the splendor of the monuments was very applaudable. And his desperate insistance on connecting stories of Hindu mythology to situations in modern life were hilariously charming in his broken, yet confident English.

After touring the palaces and monuments of the great Islamic dynasties in Delhi last summer, this trip provided me with exposure to a totally different style of construction, design, and purpose desired by dynasties in the South.

It seems to me that the empires of the North (namely Mughal and Rajput) were both established by conquest and battlefield victories. Therefore, they constructed immense forts and palaces which were both opulent, yet easy to defend. They also were built to showcase power; the sites are large and towering, built on a large scale.

However, the design of the temples at Halebid and Belur were very different. It's as if the Hoysalas claimed divine authority; that is, they claimed they were a continuation of the gods and thus deserved such respect. The architecture on the the walls of the temple chronicle stories of Hindu mythology with each detail so carefully thought out. This attention to detail in each intricacy is spectacular. To truly appreciate these complexes, one must take a macro, close-up view of these panels.

Finally, after stoping at the KSTDC Velapuri Restaurant for lunch, we toured Belur for a little less than an hour. By the time we reached Belur, the weather was the worst it had been all day and the rains were unrelenting. We hurried to the inside of the active temple and our guide explained the meaning behind a few of the 48 pillars -- each different -- inside the temple. After that brief tour inside the dark, crowded temple, our guide basically abandoned us and the group was free to wander around the complex. But the rain kept most of us under a covered roof to take a few pictures before making the dash across the complex, under the gopuram (above left), and back into our bus for a departure back to Bangalore.

To see the photos featured in this post (and more from the trip) in original resolution, check out my Flickr set BEST OF INDIA 2011.

Russell Market

2011-07-15T08:27:00.014-04:00

After so many trips to the various malls around the city, I've realized a a few days ago, that I'm immensely bored of them. I did not travel around the world to India to see this nation outdo the American concept of a mall. Furthermore, all the people I meet are convinced that there is not anything to do in Bangalore but to shop at these malls. The first things native Bangaloreans want to show me are these gigantic, modern, expensive shopping areas; I had to proactively tell them that I wanted to see something and experience a surroundings that I could only witness in India. I came here for India, isn't it?

So we went to Russell Market and the Shivaji Nagar area of town. We arrived and strolled down the streets. The roads weren't unusually narrow, but the traffic and amount of people on the streets were definitely noticeable. We took a stroll down a street which I later learned is called Jamma Masjid Road.

On our walk, we stopped by the 19^th century Lakshmi Narasimhaswami Temple. The priest was a young boy, a few years younger than me. He took my grandmother and I into their house which is attached to the temple by a few stairs and served us prasaad.

Just down the street from the temple, was a large, ornate mosque – the Jamma Masjid. An article from the Bangalore Mirror provides this profile of the Masjid:

"The foundation for this architectural marvel on the Jamia Masjid Road (earlier called the OPH Road), with its impressively carved 90-feet minarets, Mughal-era domes and golden inscriptions in Persian, is said to have been laid by Emperor Aurangzeb."

"The legacy of communal harmony is, meanwhile, something that the Masjid is proud of. “Isn't it wonderful that it’s situated between two temples? And till date, neither the Masjid nor the temples have had any issues. In the history of Jamia Masjid there has not been a single religious clash on this street,” says manager Sayed Abdul Ali."

As we walked by the mosque, my grandmother mentioned that she always wanted to see this mosque, but never felt at the liberty to go inside. So I thought that given the number of temples I've already seen in India, my visits to mosques have been lacking. At the entrance, different people were telling us different things. One said we weren't dressed appropriately (neither of us covered our heads, and I was wearing shorts) and one said that only Muslims could enter. Finally, one man wearing a black taqiah walked up and happily welcomed us inside, “Koi baat nahin. Bhagwaan ek hi hai! Koi farq nahin parta. Andar aaiye!” – “It's no big deal. God is one. It makes no difference. Please come inside.”

After a few minutes at the mosque, we continued down the street, occasionally stopping at some small shops before finally reaching the actual Russell Market. The market itself was covered by an interesting exterior, but the inside was dark, with winding aisles of vendors classified by merchandise. Flowers. Fruits. Vegetables. Toys.

This was exactly like something one would see in an India guidebook. Once I pulled out my camera and asked – “Main tasveer khinch saktaa hoon?” – the vendors would smile and graciously make space for me to take the pictures I wanted.

Overall, I had an excellent experience visiting this small market. The experience was more interesting and satisfying than another stroll around the mall. Different people, different prices, and different atmosphere – isn't that why I'm in India?!

"Nothing's going to be solved here..."

2011-07-08T06:03:00.000-04:00

In my opinion, there are two Indias: the “modern India” that is publicized in the West and the “establishment India” that actually runs the nation. One generates money for the nation, and the other swallows money from the nation. People would like to believe that they live in the former, when in all actuality, they live in the latter. The privileged want to stay far from this “establishment,” while the average Indian drowns in the madness.

In my past trips to India, I somewhat naively stayed inside the high, protective walls of the glamourous five-story shopping malls and the trendy over-priced coffee shops. It's important for people unfamiliar with India to realize that these glitzy, posh locations certainly exist. India cannot all be characterized by Slumdog Millionaire, but nor can it be summarized as being a Bollywood fantasyland of song and dance. India most certainly is not that either.

However, this trip to India is consisting of more diverse, mundane experiences – experiences which were not of luxury, but of necessity or function. These experiences are in a way democratizing. Malls and department stores are only for the rich; the poor do not dare approach them. However, paying the telephone or gas bill requires people from all walks of life to congregate at one building.

These buildings are often old, rotting buildings which are run with no concern for maintenance or proper (or even minimal) upkeep. My encounter with the ugliness of the Indian public sector came in the form of a routine trip to the telecommunications company BSNL (Bharat Sanchar Nigam Limited) to enquire about a broadband connection at home.

My complaints about this establishment will easily turn into a rant, so I will list some of my grievances here in bullet form:

The building was DIRTY...as in, I am yet to see a dirtier building in India that is still standing for a legitimate purpose.
Information is so decentralized that it takes around half a dozen people to answer one question. You are constantly pointed from person to person.
In addition to the inefficiency, the disorganization is unbelievable. India honestly surprises me; seeing all this, one is startled that the nation is even running. There were files everywhere: sitting in piles on every desk and in thousands (maybe millions) in storage rooms.
The definition of bureaucracy in India: people given offices to do absolutely nothing but keep pushing the work (and the customers) onto other people.

Finally, I can't always help but notice the connections between religiosity and inaction in India. I feel like people are so overwhelmed themselves with what is happening around them that they almost subconsciously give up, recognize their incapacity against the system, and paste god pictures and posters on the wall. One of the rooms we were pointed to was a two-person office with every single inch of wall space covered with two to three dozen different deities. Had it not been a bureaucratic office, the room was quite aesthetically pleasing, if nothing else. My reaction when I walked into this room: “ *SIGH* Nothing's going to be solved here...”

I'm realizing that...

2011-07-03T09:21:00.010-04:00

I needed to keep a running list of these, so I am starting this post:

I'm realizing that at least 95% of every phone conversation in India is spent discussing others' matters, not one's own. Surprising?!

I'm realizing that getting married in India is more grueling and rigorous than college admissions in the US. Your past, choice of extra-curriculars, career and salary, and education are considered. But even more, factors like caste, family, height and weight are even more closely inspected. You can't choose these facts; they better be appropriate, or you're screwed!

I'm realizing that I can't escape a darshan with deities anywhere. Calendar art renderings of gods are on every wall of the house, vehicle, outdoor wall (to deter public urination or vandalism), etc. Television shows are dedicated to religious ritual. And even when I close my eyes, the door bell plays the Gaayatri Mantra and the morning 6:15 alarm is set to Om Jai Jagadeesh. A bit much?!

I'm realizing that the position of Muslims in India is very similar to the position of African-Americans in the US. They are the "ghetto-ed" minority. They are the first targets of suspicion and discrimination. However, when you look to the entertainment industry, both groups reign their fields (be it sports or music or Bollywood) and are adored by millions.

I'm realizing that in an effort to employ the large population, places are often overemployed. This applies to retailers, restaurants, and even airlines. For example, before boarding a flight, one attendant folds the perforated boarding pass and hands it to another attendant to tear it. Also, at McDonald's, people are expected to leave trays on the table so that a waiter can pick it up.

I'm realizing that I speak louder and often more directly than the Indian people I meet. I also notice that in the US we use so many words such as "Thanks" and "Please" and "Excuse Me" superfluously for any sort of transaction, big or small - whether we sincerely mean it or not. I often get blank stares of confusion when I thank people for small acts.

Post-Midnight Rant

2011-07-02T04:02:00.001-04:00

In bed, in the dark, on July 2, 2011, at 3:25am

INSOMNIA!

I woke up around 3am and I can't sleep right now, so I thought I might as well be productive and draft some sort of post. I'm assuming my sleep inconsistencies over the past few days and/or the fact that I attempted going to bed at 9pm – which is insanely early by my college student standards – have contributed to my bit of insomnia at the moment.

Plus...it is raining really hard right now. But at least that maintains a cool breeze through the windows and keeps the temperatures low, so nothing to worry about.

It has now been exactly 24 hours since my flight landed in Bangalore last night at 3:35am, and during my first day, the major story floating in the air was of a marriage alliance fixed by my grandmother who performs what she calls “social work,” but for all intents and purposes, she's a matchmaker. Considering how many people an Indian marriage involves, I guess it is fair enough to consider marriage “social work” in this country.

With this particular marriage alliance, the two “parties” (I believe 'families' would be a more appropriate term, but 'parties' demonstrates the diplomatic process that this system entails) had agreed to the match as of this evening. However, news that a family member of one of the parties had passed away had surfaced. This basically meant that the match was to be broken or delayed since “talks” or “negotiations” between the two families could no longer proceed immediately as scheduled. In effect, the alliance was broken.

Watching the development of this story over the course of the last day, I realized that self-determinism is not to be found within the bounds of a “traditional lifestyle.” With volumes of cultural law, superstition, and astrology as part of a daily existence dictating personal and interpersonal conduct, no wonder so many people turn to religion as a means of re-assurance. If they personally cannot make decisions without obstructions from ritual or custom, they hope a God can make these decisions for them. Because, obviously, the benevolent God can bypass these earthly customs.

Through a broader lens, this lack of self-determinism ingrained into society continues into socio-economic and political spheres as well. No one questions the concept of caste; the societal oppression must be of God's doing and therefore for the better. Or, caste discrimination must have been deserved due to the karmic concept of having performed adharmik acts in a past life. Either way, the oppression of one by another exists as it is. Punishment by law makes no difference if the victims themselves believe it is their role and proper place in society to be oppressed.

OK...Finished ranting! I think I will lay here for a few more hours before I start a new day. :P

The Amazing Race to Bangalore!

2011-07-01T14:26:00.000-04:00

In Bangalore, on Friday July 1, at 1:48pm

I decided to hold off on writing about the rest of my flights until some downtime in Bangalore largely because nothing too exciting or out of the ordinary took place over the course of the flights. However, I would like to summarize my overall impression of each flight.

Detroit – DC: An extremely short flight of around 90 minutes on a United ExpressJet with 1-2 seating. Fortunately, I received the single, window seat which allowed me amazing views of the Detroit area upon take-off, and the DC metro area prior to landing. The flight served a complimentary beverage.

DC – Dubai: The longest leg of my trip consisted of a 13 hour flight, trans-Atlantic, trans- Europe flight. Prior to boarding, security at Dulles went smoothly and quickly with many counters open to speed the transit. Upon boarding, the crew informed us that the flight was full. And that was most definitely the case. The crowd was largely desi families transiting through to South Asia and the flight service reflected this demographic. Two meals were served on the flight. Dinner service included curry and rice, and a pre-landing breakfast service was more curry and rice for vegetarians or a hot turkey and swiss sandwich – I clearly opted for the latter.

On a positive note, on a flight of 13 hours, getting along with the passenger next to you is much appreciated. I introduced myself to a tall, young Indian guy named Suresh. His destination was Chennai and his reason for traveling to India strengthened my confidence in the situations depicted in typical Hindi films.

I want one...real bad!!

He had apparently come to the US six months ago to work for the North Carolina government in Raleigh. Before coming to the US, he had promised his fiancee that he would return to marry her. And this summer, he was traveling back to Chennai for 15 days for his marriage. I told my friends that I hoped to sit next to someone interesting and profound on my long flight to Dubai. I guess this is the closest you can get on a flight of Indian families...

Dubai: I want to include a short note about my brief layover in Dubai. I loved the transit through DXB. Security was quick and very stress-free compared to that at US airports. The airport's interior itself is gorgeous and very characteristic of the city. I loved being able to read and understand the signs in Arabic. I felt very “at-home” in the environment. The diversity of the people passing through Dubai is stunning – truly a confluence between Europe, the Middle East, Africa, and Asia. I'm really hoping to explore the city sometime in the future though I feel there are some much grittier truths to Dubai under the visible blanket of gold and posh skyscrapers.

Dubai – Bangalore: An excellent flight. 3-3 seating. The superiority of these new Indian-owned airlines over traditional American carriers is stunning. I sincerely wish I was on a 13 hour long IAD-DXB flight with the Kingfisher crew rather than with the grumpy attendants on United. The cabin crew were attentive and welcoming, there was a generous amount of food and amenities (for a 4 hour flight), and the flight arrived earlier than scheduled.

Right now, I am happy to be off the plane and at my destination. Hmm...I am very excited to see what the next two months have in store...

India 2011 Begins!

2011-06-29T13:15:00.009-04:00

Sitting in Detroit Metro Airport, at Gate D6, 12:45pm

The first of three legs of my journey to Bangalore begins in Detroit. We left Grand Rapids around 9am and arrived at the Detroit Metro Airport (DTW) in around 2.5 hours. I entered into the North Terminal for my United flight to Dulles (IAD). Check-in at the counter went smoothly and very quickly. But I am pretty sure the United agent at the counter was not having the best of days. I handed over my confirmation and my US Passport and, after some examination, she asked me, “Do you have a green card?” I was a bit flustered by this question. A green card was not on my list of documents I was constantly being hounded over by my parents. After a moment of “WTH?!!!,” I responded, “Umm...I'm a citizen.” The agent responded with the most acute look of embarrassment on her face and proceeded to process my check-in.

Then going through security, came the necessary emptying of pockets, removal of belt and shoes, and placement of the Mac into the gray security bins. Everything went smoothly until my larger carry-on began to attract the attention of the x-ray examiners. The bag was pulled off the conveyor belt and brought to me for opening and inspection. I denied any sharp objects in the bag, but it turned out that what caught the inspectors' attention was a 3-pack, bulk Costco-size of Vaseline lotion. The inspector looked at me and exclaimed “This is definitely more than 3.4 ounces. You can't take this.” I laughed at myself – so typically desi to have a bulk package of lotion confiscated. The lotions were returned to my dad waiting in the terminal, I put my shoes on, and proceeded to down to Gate D6. It's a beautiful day in Detroit. I'm sitting next to a large window overlooking the tarmac and looking forward to what DC and Dubai will have in store over the next 24+ hours. :)

Karma and its Transformation: From the Veda to the Bhagavad Gītā

2011-06-11T17:31:00.030-04:00

In the globalized twenty-first century, the term karma has pervaded into the daily parlance of many in the West. People employ the word to simply describe one bringing inevitable circumstances upon themselves – either good or bad – due to prior actions (“Karma”). However, the roots of karma develop from much deeper philosophical and cultural backgrounds. Throughout the history of the Indian Subcontinent, the traditions which nurtured the concept of karma changed through shifting priorities, shifting sources of authority, and shifting notions of the Self and the Absolute. Thus, the concept of karma itself has gone through similar transformations in parallel with greater ideologies. This transformation of karma is manifested in three key pieces of Hindu literature. The Veda, Upaniṣads, and the Bhagavad Gītā demonstrate the cornerstone importance of karma to the adherents of Hinduism at their respective stages of the tradition's development.

As the earliest scriptures in what is now termed the Hindu tradition, the Veda serves as an important and appropriate starting place to analyze the roots and development of karma in the Subcontinent. A large focus of the Veda rested on the action of ritual or yajña. As Gavin Flood notes in An Introduction to Hinduism, “In sacrifice the gods could be propitiated, material benefits such as sons or cattle received from them, and the social standing, power, or purity of the sacrificer...enhanced” (Flood 40). In essence, this form of appeasement of the Vedic gods provided to humans a mode of communication with which to assure their well-being in future lifetimes, as well as an incentive for fulfilling codes of dharma in their current life. Flood underscores this connection as he recognizes that “dharma is an obligation, declared by the Veda, to perform ritual action (karma)” (Flood 53). The Veda exemplifies this demonstration of ritual action in accordance with karma as “the liaison between gods and men” (Embree 7).

Practice of ritual as a means of propitiating the gods and seeking their Grace is exhibited in the hymns to various Vedic deities. The Rg Veda, as the earliest of Aryan texts, provides examples of such early Hindu traditions. In a hymn to Agni, worshippers call upon “the chief priest” to “be of easy access to us as a father to his son” and to “join us for our well-being” (Embree 9). Furthermore, the Rg Veda continues on to specify the nature of ritual sacrifice as karma. Sacrifice in the Veda differs from sacrifice in the Western tradition – with most sacrifice in the form of milk, ghee, soma, or grain as oblations to various deities (Flood 40). While this view of karma seems primitive from the modern viewpoint, ritual action satisfied the Aryan society's needs in both a spiritual and practical sense.

The view of karma found in the genre of literature known as the Upaniṣads reflects the internalization of philosophy and thought, as opposed to the materialistic manifestation chronicled in the Vedas. The Upaniṣads emerged as part of a global trend toward philosophical thought, and thus the Upaniṣads presented their teachings in the form of dialogues between two juxtaposing Brahmanical figures such as the teacher and the student – or the king and the renunciant (Flood 83). Moreover, the growing heterodox influence of Buddhism in South Asia also influenced the expansion of karma's role in the Hindu psyche (Flood 86). This shift indicates that “external performance” is no longer the ultimate intention of the worshipper, but rather “knowledge of its deeper meaning” takes precedence in the Upaniṣadic era (Flood 84). Therefore, the acts of ritual dictated by the Veda continued during this time period, however the role of internalization led to further emphasis on contemplation and meditation in order to increase an individual's sense of consciousness (Flood 83).

This trend toward embracing the symbolism and knowledge behind ritual action is prevalent in many of the Upaniṣads. The Chandogya Upaniṣad raises one of the most critical pieces of such knowledge in Hinduism – the relationship between the Self and the Absolute: “Tat Tvam Asi.” Translated as “That thou art,” these texts highlight “the idea that knowledge gives rise to power or energy” (Flood 83). In the specific dialogue, Śvetaketu learns this information from his father, Uddalaka, who repeatedly proclaims: “The finest essence here – that constitutes the self of this whole world; that is the truth; that is the self (Ātman). And that's how you are, Śvetaketu” (Olivelle 152). In addition to these revelations on release from the cycle of Saṃsāra, the Bṛhadāraṇyaka Upaniṣad offers insight into early understandings of the modern concept of karma as a process of intangible, internal actions. Chapter Four of the Bṛhadāraṇyaka Upaniṣad quite blatantly interprets karma in a manner recognizable in modern usage: “He whose works are good becomes good; he whose works are evil becomes evil. By holy works one becomes holy, by evil works, evil. As his desire, so is his resolve, as his resolve, so is his work, as his work, so is his reward” (Roer 235). In these ways, the representation of the karma in the Upaniṣads forms a second step in the transformation of karma from its ancient Vedic roots to its integral role in the narration of the Bhagavad Gītā.

The development of karma in the Hindu tradition reaches its pinnacle in the Bhagavad Gītā as the wartime dialogue between a weary warrior, Arjuna, and his divine charioteer, Kṛṣṇa, contemplates the choice between action and inaction. In a literary context, the Bhagavad Gītā considers itself a title in the genre of Upaniṣads – it too describes the student-teacher relationship between a human and God (“The Upa-nishads”). However, as action in the Veda demanded ritual sacrifice, or internalized knowledge in the early Upaniṣads, the Gītā took ownership of karma through an emphasis on renunciation and detachment. However, this understanding of renunciation (samnyasa) differed greatly from the definition of renunciation in the āśrama system. The Bhagavad Gītā , parallel to other heterodox traditions in the Subcontinent, permitted a new and relatively democratized, accessible variant of renunciation. This style of samnyasa urged the renunciant to remain active within his or her society, conforming to prescribed individual dharma – with the ultimate goal of mokṣa through attaining truth (sat) (“The Bhagavad Gita”). One can extract these shifts in defining the ideal notion of karma from Kṛṣṇa's counsel to Arjuna in the Gītā.

The Gītā's Third Teaching outlines a system of Discipline of Action or karma-yoga which manifests karma as the individual making appropriate moral and societally responsible choices, while retaining detachment from selfish incentives. In response to these selfish incentives, Kṛṣṇa advises “Be intent on action, / not on the fruits of action; / avoid attraction to the fruits / and attachment to inaction!” (Miller 38). Kṛṣṇa then proceeds to explain that detachment is the only way mankind can truly achieve mokṣa. He reveals: “Always perform with detachment / any action you must do; / performing action with detachment, / one achieves supreme good” (Miller 45). Furthermore, Kṛṣṇa foreshadows his divine identity as he urges Arjuna to “Foster the gods with this, / and may they foster you; / by enriching one another, / you will achieve a higher good.” Through these verses, Kṛṣṇa addresses the convergence of two very different forms of karma. Vedic ritual action and Upaniṣadic internalized knowledge and meditation merge to create a hybrid form of karma stressing social responsibility, loyalty to dharma, and detachment from selfishness.

The concept of karma has taken the role of Hinduism's ambassador to foreign cultures, especially to the West – where the term is commonplace in daily conversation. But to truly understand the roots and development of karma, one must study the teachings of fundamental Hindu texts such as the Veda, the Upaniṣads, and the Bhagavad Gītā. Thus, karma's journey from fulfillment of Vedic ritual, to internalized philosophy, to societally appropriate dharma manifests the eternal struggle over the nature of 'action' in the Hindu tradition. A thoughtful analysis of these texts reveals how the concept of karma has changed to adapt to people's transforming notions of the world through dharma, atman, and brahman. In these ways – through its cemented role throughout Hinduism's history – karma presents itself as a core principle to Hinduism's adherents.

West Beyrouth (بيروت الغربية)‎ Film Review

2011-04-26T16:02:00.003-04:00

Ziad Doueiri's 1998 film, West Beyrouth, seeks to understand the zeitgeist of the 1975 Lebanese Civil War. The director approaches this goal through the examination of a group of adolescents and their interactions, adventures, and concerns. Beirut is divided into Muslim and Christian districts, Al-Gharbiah (The West) and Al-Sharqiah (The East), respectively. Nonetheless, young adults such as the main protagonist, Tarek, continue to hate attending school, forming their first crushes, and arguing with their parents. In this sense, West Beirut attempts to chronicle ordinary life in Beirut in a time of uncertainty. The nature of Beirut is changing, but so is the nature of its people – especially the youth.

In his film, Doueiri largely deals with social concerns and shifts in the Beirut of the mid-1970s, rather than the political or military happenings. Therefore, the audience gains a grasp on a certain lifestyle of the people. For example, the entrenchment of the French system (especially in education) calls upon colonialist themes and notions of the East that had remained unchanged in European perspective for millennia. This attitude is represented in the first scene as Tarek is reprimanded for standing for nationalism over the French. As the film continues, the audience also learns of Tarek's distaste for French literature as well as Arabs; he proudly claims Phoenician origins. Moreover, Tarek serves as a bridge between the Muslim and Christian peoples of Beirut. His friends are a Muslim boy, Omar, and a Christian girl, May. Therefore, Tarek symbolizes a new generation of Lebanese – one concerned over the entity of nation, rather than faith. He represents a strand of hope for Lebanon's unity and future.

As the film highlights a contentious era in history, the film today is likely to evoke different feelings from different areas of the world. Both Americans and Lebanese are likely to view the era portrayed in West Beyrouth as foreshadowing the current situation in the country. Moreover, the film might surface a feeling of helplessness that the 1975 conflict presented in the film still continues today – religious factions are not at peace, internal politics has yet to mature, and Beirut is still threatened by the actions of bordering powers such as Syria and Israel. Similarly, Americans might place the film into their own narrative pertaining to Arabs and the Middle East. They might view the conflict in the film through the perspective of 9/11 and two wars. Contrarily, the social and light-hearted aspect of much of the film encourages the audience to appreciate certain nuances in shared humanity. And it is these nuances of love, compassion, and community in Doueiri's story that manage to dominate lesser themes.

Finally, what is the image of the greater Middle East and the Arab population that the audience will take with it when leaving the cinema? They will notice the amount of fluidity between the cultures of the West and Lebanon. The ubiquity of Western brand names, music, and pop culture references is clear. Audiences will notice the permeable nature of English words such as “Ok” – and knowledge of French literature, history, and language. Audiences will notice traits of 1970s Lebanon similar to 1970s United States or Europe: the pre-occupation with hedonism, sex, and smoking. Moreover, audiences will notice the spectrum of ideologies and lifestyles present in Lebanon. The film reaches the level of the common Lebanese street, past the heightened, contentious politics most viewers experience through the news. Viewers see Tarek's family that is liberal and forward-looking. But they also hear Omar's narration of his father's shift to a stricter adherence to Islam – forbidding music and television, requesting that his wife adopt the hijab. The audience realizes these ideological debates and dichotomies similar to ones ongoing in their own society. And through this exposure to an Arab film that is based on social realities and relationships, rather than politics, audiences imbibe the humanity that exists in the Middle East – bringing people closer together and wiser in their judgement.

Ram Ke Naam: A Critical Look at the Ayodhya Dispute

2011-04-24T13:15:00.005-04:00

Anand Patwardhan's 1992 documentary Ram Ke Naam (In the Name of God) chronicles the tumultuous scene leading up to the eventual tragic destruction of the Babri Masjid in Ayodhya. People are killed around India, religious sentiments are hurt – but Indian right-wing politics benefits. In the documentary, Patwardhan follows former Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) president L. K. Advani on his “Rath Yatra” – a right-wing campaign to mobilize Hindu unity for the creation of a Ram Mandir where the Masjid stood. The campaign and its consequential destruction of the Babri Masjid resulted in communal Hindu-Muslim violence across the nation, perhaps violence unmatched since the Partition era. Moreover, the perspective of the film depicts how a potentially small issue was exploited by right-wing political entities to enact a movement nationwide – a shift in primary identity for many people from being “Indian” to “Hindu” or even “BJP.” In that sense, Ram ke Naam manifests the debilitating, dangerous fire that spreads when ideology is preferred over practical understanding and tolerance.

As one watches the series of events that unfold in Patwardhan's narrative, many small points prove to become integral in the development of the rhetoric expressed by the Hindu right-wing. For example, Pujari Lal Das of the Ramjanmabhoomi Temple mentions the striking “political game” played by conservatives in which the right takes advantage of small subtleties to “cash in on Hindu votes.” Furthermore, Pujari Lal Das emphasizes how the Vishwa Hindu Parishad's (VHP) support of the Temple is purely exploitive of political sentiments, with no true passion for the Temple establishment and its spiritual significance. He notes that the VHP does not pray at the Ramjanmabhoomi Temple, nor does the organization make donations. As Lal Das vehemently states, the politicians do not mind the killings, but only mind money and seats in Parliament.

Another interesting point in the social tensions is Patwardhan's portrayal of the lower castes along the path of the “Rath Yatra.” They find themselves lost amongst the crowd of hot-headed ideologists; they realize only the daily concerns of the people. Given Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, these poverty-stricken people whose physiological needs are not met do not deal with ideological extremism. Often, the most rational and liberal views come from people of this socio-economic group. For example, a homeless woman holds her baby and watches Advani pass through. She demands: “What do they do for the poor? We live on the pavements...!” Similarly, another group of men also complain of the misplaced priorities of the Indian right-wing; politicians' ideological issues defeat the people's practical concerns. They suggest that both a Mandir and the Masjid should stand in Ayodhya – and that this conflict itself causes economic problems for ordinary people. In essence, this theme shows how the Babri Masjid conflict was largely a result of political exploitation by a select few right-wing Hindus. The conflict was not born and bred by the people, but rather born and bred at the top to be disseminated as political propaganda to the greater populace.

The viewing of this film comes at a critical point in the course as one examines Hinduism's reform into today's modern, consolidated spiritual and political power. Figures such as Raja Ram Mohan Roy and Swami Vivekananda are applauded for introducing Hinduism to the world as tolerant and progressive, but what has happened to their vision today? Is this is the same perspective of Hinduism that one will perceive through today's news headlines? At the 1893 World Parliament of Religions in Chicago, Vivekananda introduced the West to a reformed Hinduism with this impression: “We believe not only in universal toleration but we accept all religions as true. However, only two decades ago, we hear chants from the right-wing: “Maarenge maraaenge mandir wahiin banaaenge!” and “Jo swapna dekhte Baabar ke / Armaan miTaa-kar maanenge!” – and this rhetoric of hatred and intolerance has only augmented in recent years. Therefore, a study of Hinduism's key figures follows the same portrayal of idealism in Hindu society such as that idealism shown in the Ramayana. Ideally, Hinduism is tolerant; however, in reality, Hinduism is susceptible to the same pressures of politics and extremism just as many of the world's other faiths.

Anand Patwardhan's Ram Ke Naam documents a formative event in the development of how India's Hindu and Muslim populations understand religion, politics, and the distinction between the two in their country. The event reveals to Muslims their own helplessness when the government falls into the hands of the Hindu right-wing, mobilized by ideology and united by identity. The same event reveals to Hindus their own responsibility as the nation's vast majority to employ democracy to present India in a manner respecting tolerance, pluralism, secularism, and the 'bhaai-bhaai' mentality. In this sense, both Hindus and Muslims have a common goal as Indians – to uphold the dreams of Gandhi and Nehru, in creating an environment fulfilling Vivekananda's presentation of India's legacy of acceptance throughout history.

Watch 'Ram Ke Naam' starting with Part 1

Response to “Le roi de Bollywood fait plier l'extrême droite”

2011-01-13T23:22:00.002-05:00

A brief response to an incident featuring an explosive convergence of Indian political, sport, and film cultures:

Qu'est-ce qui se passe quand les trois sphères les plus populaires de la société indienne se convergent? C'est une crise magnifique, une crise qui exige une réponse direct du peuple. Les trois sphères dont on parle: ce sont la politique, le cricket, et l'industrie de film. Cet article raconte la controverse qui suit quand ces trois pouvoirs, avec leurs idéologies différentes doivent se battre pour une victoire.

Premièrement, il faut décrire la situation qui a fait manifester ces tensions. Il est récemment devenu de mode que les vedettes indiennes achètent les équipes de cricket les plus populaires. En suivant ce mode, l'acteur le plus célèbre du nom Shahrukh Khan, est aussi devenu chef d'une grande équipe. Cet achat était accepté d'un ton tout normal avant que Shahrukh Khan a décidé de sélectionner quelques joueurs pakistanais pour son équipe indienne de cricket. A ce moment, un parti politique extrêmement conservateur de l'etat de Maharashtra (où l'industrie de Bollywood se trouve), le Shiv Sena, a déclaré que Khan était un traître. Le parti politique a protesté avec colère que Khan soi-même aurait dû partir au Pakistan. Et il faut maintenant révéler une autre complication de ce récit: un film titré My Name is Khan. Ce film bien attendu par les enthousiastes du film indien de metteur en scène Karan Johar avec Shahrukh Khan s'agit de l'identité des musulmanes après les évènements de 11 septembre. Le Shiv Sena a annoncé le boycott de ce film à Mumbai; ils croyaient que ce film qui montrerait l'islam comme une religion paisible serait une nouvelle forme de la propagande de Khan. On doit se poser la question: «Qui gagnera cette bataille? Et plus important – qui convaincra le peuple? La majorité hindoue, va-t-elle s'aligne avec les conservateurs religieux ou l'industrie de film plus laïque?»

Cette crise se termine avec une victoire pour la laïcité en Inde. On avait totalement ignoré les appels pour le boycott du nouvel film. En revanche, My Name is Khan était prononcé un énorme succès au box-office; sa popularité continue même aujourd'hui aux cinémas indiens et à l'étranger.

Avoir étudié cette situation-ci, il est devenu évident que beaucoup de problèmes et de conflits se présentent à la société sud-asiatique. Il faut encore réviser la définition d'une démocratie et les libertés accordées au peuple et le rôle limité des partis politiques sous ce système. Par exemple, est-ce qu'on vraiment possède un système gouverné par la démocratie si une petite, mais puissante faction politique peut potentiellement interdire un des plus grand films de l'an? Et sous une gouvernance démocratique, tolérera-t-on un parti politique qui se fonde sur la haine des minorités? A mon avis, toutes ces questions sont posées d'un perspective occidental ou le droit le plus essentiel reste celui d'un individu sous les lois. Mais, il me semble que la société indienne se concerne plus des sentiments d'une communauté sous la gouvernance des coutumes et habitudes traditionnelles. Ce genre de régulation sociale ne marche plus dans notre société moderne, une société dans laquelle toutes les traditions crée un mélange. Donc, il faut que chaque indien – riche ou pauvre, libéral ou conservateur, hindou ou musulmane – puisse faire une tentative de trouver une vraie démocratie indienne.

Khuda Kay Liye and New York: One Tragedy, Two Stories

2010-12-23T18:33:00.002-05:00

American audiences have seen the disaster of the September 11, 2001 attacks memorialized on film through features such as World Trade Center and United 93. However, Hollywood is not the only industry to document the troubles faced by people in the aftermath of the tragedy. Two films from across the world have also intrigued their audiences, but from perspectives, and for purposes significantly different from America's. Pakistan's 2007 film Khuda Kay Liye (In the Name of God) by Shoaib Mansoor and India's 2009 film New York by Kabir Khan offer a glimpse into two nations that – though distant from the attacks themselves – have experienced their backlash. These two films share much in common, but also differ immensely as they appeal to different domestic audiences, each with a different message to send to the world. Pakistan, as an Islamic republic, faces the struggle of self-identity as it hopes to communicate the aspirations of moderate Muslims. And India, a pluralistic democracy, reaches out to its diverse diaspora population in the United States and the post-9/11 trials which they face. Thus, the Pakistani film Khuda Kay Liye and the Indian film New York – though both set against the backdrop of the 9/11 attacks – emphasize significantly different messages traceable to the unique demographics, film traditions, and political climates native to each nation.

Khuda Kay Liye and New York, though based on similar themes of Islamophobia and the aftermath of the September 11 attacks, are two separate products of very different populations. Pakistani demographics show a nation that is almost exclusively Muslim, and the plot of Khuda Kay Liye reflects this. One conflict in the film is the foil between the main character, Mansoor, and his brother, Sarmad. Brought up in a secular household, the brothers participate in a rock music band, a type of music that often is criticized by more extremist Muslims (Khuda Kay Liye). But Sarmad falls prey to the extremists, grows a beard, relinquishes music and photography, and even requests that his mother and grandmother adopt the hijab. Disapproving of his brother, Mansoor continues his life, relocates to Chicago to study music, and lives a typical Western lifestyle. This parallelism serves to illustrate the nature of pressures from both extremes found in Pakistani society, thus leading to a crisis over self-identity in the minds of many young Pakistanis. When straddled between two very powerful institutions as Western culture and Islam, a safe middle is boggling to retain. Husham Ahmed describes the threatening and potent nature of this crisis in his article in The Statesmen:

Pakistan’s turbulent history has widened, rather than resolved, the contradictions present in our society, leaving society as polarised as ever. The young generation is still searching for the answers that previous generations of Pakistanis have failed to provide. While groping for solutions in this dark period, the youth are exploited by certain individuals who with their oratory skills present a simplistic answer to complicated dilemmas by urging them to focus on a common external enemy. They spit venom, blabber about conspiracy theories, and preach jingoism in the media. (Ahmed)

Therefore, the Pakistani film is dealt a very heavy burden, the burden of dispelling notions that all Pakistanis or all Muslims constitute a large anti-Western force. The film must depict advocates of liberal Islam contrary to the practice of fundamentalism, and thus this conflict forms a major element of the film's plot, while the film's Indian counterpart, New York, is presented, a different, if not lighter, burden of proof.

Just as Khuda Kay Liye is a product of the Muslim identity of Pakistan, the Indian film industry's production New York appeals to a majority Hindu nation with a prevalent and affluent diaspora community. Therefore, at the film's inception, as the camera cruises over the city of New York, the director indicates that this is a story of South Asians in the United States (New York). As protagonist Omar arrives as an international student to New York and forms close friendships with suave American-born Indians Samir and Maya, it is evident that the intended audience and goals of this film are quite different from those of the more conservative and modest Khuda Kay Liye. For example, conversational registers of Hindi are intertwined with English; characters converse just as the children of Indian immigrants would. Yet in Khuda Kay Liye, the nature of the content and circumstances necessitate a higher, ornate register of Urdu.

Similarly, the cultural values depicted in New York are more secular and less focused on religion, but on greater personal morals. Film critic Omar Qureshi comments on this aspect of New York and the universal themes it propagates: “Films with which people can identify always work. Everyone can connect with films that revolve around friendships because everyone has a friend. There is no one who doesn't have a single friend” (“Bollywood”). Therefore, the Indian film is manufactured to appeal to pluralistic domestic and international Indian societies consisting of a plethora of languages, ethnicities, and religions. As Saltz writes in her New York Times review of the film, New York “hinges on loyalty, love and friendship, a holy trinity of Hindi cinema” (Saltz). Where Khuda Kay Liye is able to call upon its audience's shared experiences as Muslims, the makers of New York must expand their film's appeal to a much broader set of people. And this too constitutes a burden resting on the shoulders of the film's producers. And especially in a nation where the formulaic, romantic epic genre has reigned for decades, complete with escapist song-and-dance sequences, vengeful villains, and macho heroes – appealing to the masses with a serious film on terrorism, politics, and discrimination is a difficult argument to win.

Many of the vast differences between the Pakistani and Indian narrations of the attack's aftermath stem from the film traditions ingrained in the countries' histories. The two neighbors share a combined tradition of filmmaking which was interrupted as the region experienced a violent post-colonial partition in the late 1940s. During this period, much of the talent remained in the new Indian state, giving birth to a strong tradition of film based in then Bombay. Consequently, the Pakistani industry based in Lahore experienced a devastating brain drain (Zafar). But how does this history cement the fates of Khuda Kay Liye and New York? How does this history serve to further distinguish the features of these two films?

First, until recently, the screening of Indian films in Pakistan was illegal. Likewise, Khuda Kay Liye was the first Pakistani film to screen in Indian cinemas in 43 years. Therefore, the film is also burdened with exposing Pakistan to Indians and international audiences who have probably only seen the country through news reports detailing burgeoning elements of fundamentalism. Khuda Kay Liye's director Shoaib Mansoor remarks that he was “shocked by the ignorance” of Indians regarding life in Pakistan:

Indian films never stopped coming to Pakistan, on DVDs, so every Pakistani is absolutely clear about the way of life in India, about how everything works in India. But there is nothing coming in the other direction, with the result that India has very clear misconceptions about Pakistan. They had very surprising ideas about Pakistan. They asked: ‘Do you have taxis there?’ ‘Can women drive?’ ‘Are women allowed to go to university?’ They thought Pakistan consisted entirely of fanatics and mullahs. (Gentleman)

This “two-way mirror” effect between the neighboring countries has resulted in dangerous stereotypes of Pakistan, and Mansoor's efforts to exhibit the identity crisis Pakistan is suffering works to placate these notions. As popular Indian script writer and lyricist Javed Akhtar comments, “ Ignorance breeds suspicion and suspicion breeds hate; it creates huge villains. There is a lot to be heard and seen by Indian and by U.S. audiences here [in Khuda Kay Liye]” (Iqbal). But if Pakistan's Khuda Kay Liye possesses soul and an honest goal of changing world opinion, what it lacks, according to Indian critic Subhash Jha, is that “it is not a pot-boiler; it doesn’t have the audience-pulling big stars” (Gentleman). However, this commercial appeal is exactly what New York can claim.

The Indian film tradition originates from escapist sagas of romance and sentimental family dramas, and the grim topics explored in New York diverge from this traditional path to box-office success. But the producers of New York have not completely abandoned this tested and well-worn formula. The attractive, fair-skinned superstars, the catchy songs, the glamorous fashions and locations are all found in Kabir Khan's film. Glenn Whipp of the Los Angeles Times locates these elements of the Indian film tradition in that the characters as students at a fictitious New York college “have no cares (and apparently no classes).” Furthermore, “musical montages repeatedly emphasize youthful passion and Omar's unrequited love for Maya” (Whipp). These facets of a traditional Indian film as demonstrated in New York, unlike Khuda Kay Liye, demonstrate how the makers of New York are forced to maintain a level of commercial elements among a background of more gripping, realistic elements such as terrorism, politics, and anti- Muslim discrimination. Thus, one may interpret this expectation of gloss and glamour as well as a coherent, well-researched chronicle of the September 11 aftermath as another burden for New York.

Not only are Khuda Kay Liye and New York products of their respective intended audiences and countries' film traditions, but the manner of each film's storytelling is also attributed to the political climate in each nation. First, any discussion of Pakistani politics entails Pakistani military engagements on two separate fronts: the Afghani border in the West and Kashmir in the East. Regarding the conflict in the West, Khuda Kay Liye documents Sarmad's fall into the hands of fundamentalism and his departure from the liberalism of Lahore to the tribal regions to participate in jihad. During this period, Sarmad is trapped by the blinding influence of Maulana Tahiri. As Makarand Paranjape notices in his book Altered Destinations, “the bad mullah [Maulana Tahiri] has a distinctly Pashto or Afghani accent.” This subtle, but meaningful use of language serves to underline the contempt that liberal Pakistanis hold against what they view as extremist influences from Afghanistan sweeping their cities and towns. A public policy think tank, the New America Foundation confirms this view. In a 2009 testimony before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, Steve Coll presented that “ Pakistan's struggle to achieve its constitutional and founding ideals of democracy, pluralism, and a culture rooted in a modernizing Islam have been impeded in part by the spillover effects of continual warfare in Afghanistan” (Cole). This animosity between liberal, urban Pakistanis and the lawlessness of the tribal regions intensifies when one also takes into consideration US violations of Pakistani sovereignty with drone attacks on Pakistani territory and subsequent deaths (Brulliard and Hussain).

But this more recent conflict has done nothing to subdue the long-standing rivalry between Pakistan and India, also a conflict subtly addressed in Khuda Kay Liye. Once Mansoor reaches the United States, he quickly adapts to Western life, but the attacks in New York shake up Mansoor's progressing American dream. He is discriminated against, called a “terrorist” due to his Muslim identity, and faces brutal Guantanamo-style detention by the Americans. Paranjape interprets this course in the film as an exercise in finger-pointing at the Indians for their role in the marginalization of Muslims worldwide. Paranjape continues in Altered Destinations: “the man who betrays him [Mansoor] is a Sikh, an Indian who, when he is drunk, gets into a brawl and calls him a terrorist because the Sikh's own family members have been killed by Islamic terrorists back in India” (Paranjape). This statement not only makes claims toward the nature of Pakistani-Indian relations from a regional perspective, but also points to the political climate of domestic Muslim-Hindu relations in the Indian community.

The question of coexistence of India's diverse religious communities is one addressed, by necessity rather than by choice, in the film New York. In the aftermath of the September 11 attacks, Samir, Omar, and Maya transform from being average college students to representatives of a people deemed anti-American, regressive, and violent. Eventually, Samir is detained in Guantanamo-like circumstances by American intelligence claiming that Samir participates in a terror cell located in New York. Vijay Nair criticizes this aspect of Indian filmmaking in his article in The Hindu when he reprimands Indian films for acquiescing to the sensitive and controversial nature of politics – thus resorting to stereotypes. Nair urges that:

None of these films try to reflect on the phenomenon of terrorism intelligently. Mainstream directors are likely to balk at the idea of terrorism being spawned by truths closer at home [in India]. It is only by design and not accident that a New York...unfolds in the American context. The two feuding parties, the white American population, as well as the Islamic terrorists, can be perceived as adversaries by the Indian audience (Nair).

Nair's analysis of New York's placement of stereotypes for both political as well as commercial reasons, points to the atmosphere of Indian-Pakistani and larger Hindu-Muslim relations in the Subcontinent. Just as in Khuda Kay Liye, Pakistan points its finger at Afghanistan as the source of fundamentalist activity, in New York, India directs its criticism to its alienated, ghettoed Muslim minority and at Pakistan. Neither nation is willing to accept its role in the growth of fundamentalism within its borders. India will not affirm the effects of Muslim marginalization in a largely Hindu society, while Pakistan will not affirm its inability to govern the lawless tribal provinces. Thus, both nations' politicians, and both nations' films, find scapegoats in the United States and in each other.

Khuda Kay Liye and New York are two films about one world-changing event told from two profoundly different perspectives. The mixture of the spice and sultry heat of South Asia blend with explosive topics such as prejudice, politics, and identity to form two films incapable of transcending the cynical nature of their homelands. Khuda Kay Liye offers to the world a glimpse into Pakistan's struggle over its modern identity, the strides of its meager film industry, and the lack of pragmatism in its corrupt politics. Meanwhile, two years later, New York exports another glossy drama to its Indian audiences detailing how despite addressing a serious topic, Indian film cannot detach itself from glamour and resorting to stereotypes in order to narrate a story. However, given difficult circumstances in the Subcontinent, both films also suffer from heavy burdens which restrict the filmmakers and their intentions. Khuda Kay Liye must communicate a message to its Muslim audiences that they have a choice between two paths: fundamentalism and liberalism. And with either choice, they cannot escape criticism. Similarly, New York is pressured to create a film experience that is grossly commercial, yet able to appeal to India's pluralistic society and its diverse overseas markets. Given these pressures, both films merit a strong level of praise for addressing their stories in a meaningful and poignant, if biased, style – something films before them, and many after, have failed to accomplish.

The Best of India 2010

2010-11-16T04:24:00.001-05:00

The following slideshow comprises of shots from my travels around India during the summer of 2010. The architecture of the Arabo-Persian Mughal Empire, the intricate South Indian Dravidians, as well as more modern aspects of this quickly developing nation inspire this set of photographs.

Sites featured include Bangalore, Delhi, Jaipur, Agra, Hyderabad, Kochin, and Chennai.

My Atheism in a Snapshot

2010-11-16T00:47:00.000-05:00

I sit at a plastic table draped with a clear, disposable table cloth wearing an intricate, traditional Indian kurta. Members of the local Indian community are assembled in a large one- story house; a Hindu house of worship, a temple, a mandir. The crux of the vibrant – and noisy – gathering is the inauguration of the temple. I chat with the other teenagers about the latest Bollywood films, and we listen to music on our iPods. As we debate over which song to listen to, an auntie calls on all the children to enter the temple and pray. The train of children leaves the table to pray. I do not. I do not believe in God.

Being a minority is difficult; being a minority within a minority is a struggle. I realize that this setback does not have an easy resolution, but it begs for gradual change – a change that I must effectuate. Society views atheists as subordinate, lifeless, vulgar, and lacking a sense of cultural roots. Atheists are typecast as the “druggie” on the street corner or the radical “commie” devoid of patriotism; I am neither. My ideal rests with the great figures of history, such as Jefferson and Nehru, both men of the highest caliber, yet non-theists. Yesterday, these men used their secular identities to unite vast populations under common values of integrity, liberty, justice, and democracy. They manifested the face of atheism that stands strong for conscience, for society, and for cooperation. Today, I challenge society's definition of the atheist; I dictate my own potential. I contribute to society a new perspective, complemented by modern progressivism and collaboration, ancient ethic and honor. I write my personal moral code – for myself, for today.

Some might consider my lack of faith, spirituality, and religion a quirk or even a vagary, but to me atheism is sensible and logical. The prevailing theory of fatalism which is present in all religions seems pointless and detracting from life. Through rejecting fatalism, I feel responsible for my own actions and am aware that any goals I set may be achieved through my own will and not that of any God's Providence. When I am successful, I commend only myself; when I fail, I censure only myself. I have always been a pragmatic person, challenging the various superstitions rooted in the Indian and Hindu cultures. I find reciting Sanskrit incantations for protection, consulting priests for a propitious wedding date, or adorning an amulet for good luck to be an unnecessary attempt to leave the real practicalities of the world behind. Rather than escape these practicalities, I prefer to work with them.

The surroundings are serene, and all I hear are the devotees chanting and bells ringing from the inner sanctum of the temple. I envision the women sari-clad, accompanied by their husbands and children, and the priests' voices crescendoing with the final, collective “Om.” As I wait for the worship to conclude, I reach for the latest edition of Newsweek. I find glaring at me in tight, black, bold font, the headline: “Out, Out Damned Atheists!”

Musings from Bangalore #1

2010-06-17T00:20:00.000-04:00

I've been meaning to write this post since the day I arrived in Bangalore, but now that I've found a venue for broadband internet connection, I am ready to finally compose and publish these set of observations from my first few days in Bangalore.

Speed bumps are ubiquitous on the streets in Bangalore. Yet, I believe that whoever considered instating these speed bumps are highly deceived. People do not actually slow down, rather they utilize these speed bumps as amusement by continuing at rapid speeds. Someone needs to build more amusement parks in Bangalore!
There is great socioeconomic disparity easily visible on the streets. In its introduction to Bangalore, Lonely Planet India notes that “slums are tucked away even within well-off neighborhoods.” Unlike in the United States, the wealthy are not as segregated from the poor. The wealthiest IT businessmen roams the same streets and breaths the same pollution as the poorest beggar. For example, across the street from my grandmother's three-story house is a series of shacks.
Manual labor is employed whenever possible. With the plethora of construction projects and renovations taking place, this is too apparent. Moreover, a large portion of this labor is unfortunately done through children. Economically, this makes a lot of sense in a nation where people are abundant and education is not available for all. Thus, with the supply of labor available, hand-made goods and labor is often cheaper than manufactured goods or machinery.
Horns take on a totally different meaning in India. They are not employed after something dangerous (like in the United States), but rather horns are used by vehicles to notify other vehicles and pedestrians of their presence. Therefore, horns are ALWAYS sounded. I must admit I saw no benefit to this system during my first days in Bangalore, but after becoming a pedestrian in the city, I do appreciate when a vehicle beeps its horn as it approaches me. Is this a sign of being in India too long??
Along the sides of the streets, there are (usually old) women in vests sweeping with what can be described as “brooms” aka bunch of long straw. Unlike my experience with horns, I still do not see the benefit of this sweeping. If you saw the amount of trash and dirt along these streets, you would realize that one lone woman sweeping with such a “broom” would make little or no difference at all. Perhaps this is just another way to employ people...

London to Bangalore

2010-06-15T01:46:00.001-04:00

I had previously expected to write this post about the entire route starting at O'Hare, but as that flight was a fairly standard transatlantic flight with the usual demographics – tourists, students, business travelers – there was not too much out of the ordinary.

However, the second flight from Heathrow to Bangalore consisted was essentially a desi davat on an airplane. From the moment the gate number A10 was announced, the migration of saree-clad grandmothers and desi families was clearly apparent. The demographics of this flight were fairly homogenous: almost 95% Indian with a few white and business travelers and families.

A land of Indians has given birth to such chaos and calamity. Shouldn't a jet full of Indians as well? Here are two exchanges that took place even before the plane left the runway:

Woman A: Where is your son sitting?

Woman B: Over there. He just graduated high school.

Woman A: Where is he going to college?

Woman B: He got into Rice and Stanford. He might go to Stanford.

Woman A: Ohhh!! Congratulations!

Flight Attendant: (upon seeing a child in his grandfather's seat) Sir, how old is that child?

Old Desi Man: He is two years old.

Flight Attendant: Well, if he's two years old, he should be in a seat by himself.

Old Desi Man: Ohh, no...he's not two...he hasn't completed two years.

Flight Attendant: (with a puzzled and annoyed expression) So he hasn't completed two years yet...?

(Anyone with any knowledge of desis should understand why these two conversations are significant...or perhaps...insignificant)

In addition to, or rather, to complement the cheapness and the “davat-scene” taking place during the 9.5 hour flight, “aunties” were constantly standing in the aisles chatting with one another and families trying to get the most out of the galley by stuffing snacks into their bags.

I might as well post another complaint I have regarding people's behavior on airplanes. Why don't all passengers first get to their seat and then take turns placing their carry-ons into the overheard compartments? The current procedure that most take of finding their seat and immediately placing bags in the compartments creates a tremendous delay in boarding. This inefficiency is only amplified by the fact that people bring carry-ons larger than regulation size and also store their bags in compartments not assigned to them.

To conclude on a much more positive note, my experiences in both Heathrow and Bangalore airports were fabulous. The people were all respectful and efficient; they were friendly and hospitable. Heathrow is a huge airport, but its bright and consistently placed purple “Flight Connection” signs makes navigation easy, the sort of easy that borders on even being fun.

My experience at the new Bangalore Airport was also very simple and would have been extremely quick had the luggage arrived earlier on the belt. Also, for 4:30am, the airport security staff were warm and personable in welcoming us to their city and country.

India Preparation Sources

2010-06-08T11:19:00.000-04:00

As I prepare to depart tomorrow for Bangalore, I thought I would compile a list of internet sources that proved extremely helpful, entertaining, and convenient. With all its added challenges and rewards, Tourism in India has long remained a cult favorite for those hoping to experience something more than the sterility of Europe. Needless to say, there is a plethora of sources on the internet to service a traveler to the Subcontinent - and the best are developed by fellow travelers who have repeatedly made the trip, repeatedly overcome the challenges, and repeatedly acknowledged their "aha! moments."

ENGAGING User-Developed Sources:

IndiaMike - a monumental website that hosts an open forum for discussion on a wide range of subjects relating to travel/residency in India. IndiaMike also hosts a series of user-developed articles that detail various aspects of travel such as "How to Cross an Indian Road." In addition, there is a fairly expansive photo gallery posted by fellow travelers.

TripAdvisor - a mainstay for travelers to any destination in the world, TripAdvisor aids in scouting out the main points of interest in any destination. The site's system of ranking attractions, hotels, etc and coupling the rankings with travelers' reviews and photographs permits one to efficiently process information. TripAdvisor is great for those who do not want to wander through forums, for those who want to make quick, calculated travel decisions.

Bolly-what Forums - the "India, Greater South Asia, and the Diaspora" and the "India-bound!"sections of the forums provide more interesting threads - whether you are planning to travel or not. Like IndiaMike, these forums are full of engaging anecdotes from fellow travelers. Also, be sure to wander outside of these two sections to learn more about Bollywood's sphere of influence as well as to brush up on your Hindi and Urdu.

DRY Government Sources:

US State Department - India

UK Foreign & Commonwealth Office - India

Incredible India

Guide Book: Lonely Planet India is the most widely read guide book for India and it has held this place since its inception in the 1980s. Lonely Planet also makes much of the basic planning information found in its books accessible online.

My next post will be covering the ORD-LHR-BLR route. Stay tuned!

Ek Mulaaqaat...Bollywood Ke Saath

2010-02-14T18:43:00.000-05:00

The following is a multimedia project developed as part of my ongoing study of the Hindi language. Literally titled "An Encounter with Bollywood," this 8-minute video provides snapshots of the diversity in content the Hindi film industry offers its audience. In addition, the second portion of the video focuses on Bollywood through the perspectives of native South Asians as well as those new to the genre of film. Enjoy!

A Letter to the Editor...

2009-08-09T12:01:00.000-04:00

The following letter-to-the-editor was composed by me and sent to Mr. Phil Contrino of Boxoffice Magazine, the official publication of the National Association of Theater Owners.

It provides an argument for the economic and cultural benefits of increased public exposure to the Hindi film industry in the United States.

Dear Mr. Phil Contrino:

In Frank Capra’s words, “Film is one of the three universal languages, the other two: mathematics and music.” As editor of Boxoffice Magazine, you are very well aware of film’s universal intrigue. In fact, you and your readers are among the world’s elite consumers (and producers) of film. Hollywood is undoubtedly recognized worldwide for its progressive, experimental, absorbing, and timeless works of art; however, film aficionados in the United States are unfortunately unaware of another art form: Bollywood. If Capra termed mathematics, music, and film to be the three universal languages, then Indian films shall be the fourth – for they represent a perfect coalescence between the aesthetic, the auditory, and the sentimental.

The promotion of this style of filmmaking is confined today to the country’s metropolises. These films’ potential audiences, and profits, are thereby inappropriately limited. But with a proper raise in awareness among the cinema elite, acknowledgement of potential profits by cinema owners, and continued interest on the part of consumers – the expansion of Bollywood in localities nationwide would prove conducive to the American moviegoer.

Referred to by the popular portmanteau “Bollywood,” the Indian film industry is not, as the name suggests, a sketchy rip-off of its American counterpart. The Indian films of today no longer represent the three-hour long, melodramatic, jingoistic, escapist masala films of yesteryear. Rather, as Richard Corliss of Time Magazine suggests, these films are “visually intoxicating…pristine…and visual chic.” Having grown up with these films and having witnessed the revolution in the Mumbai-based industry, I am convinced that the American audience is ready for something new, something different.

American moviegoers and critics have praised Mira Nair’s The Namesake, danced to AR Rahman’s Jai Ho, and read Jhumpa Lahiri’s Unaccustomed Earth. As Somini Sengupta named the phenomenon in her New York Times article, Americans are inebriated by “the new Indo chic” or even “Indofrenzy.” But in the opinion of any Indophile, this phenomenon is pitifully incomplete without exposure to Indian films. Organizations such as the National Association of Theater Owners must acknowledge this pattern of demand from the American public. According to Boxofficeguru.com, “Bollywood films now routinely cross the $1 million boxoffice mark in the United States.” In fact, the 2001 film Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham had reached No.10 on the U.S. boxoffice charts on its release weekend. As Kabhi Khushi’s marketing chief Vishal Patel questions, “If it is a formula that works for us, then why not cash in on it?”

So the question rests why theater owners do not request the expansion of Bollywood films in localities nationwide so that Americans outside the metropolises may enjoy what Regine Labossiere of The Seattle Times calls “Bollywood’s charms.” The principal reason is simply that Indian films are, evidently, foreign. Therefore, they are neither marketed widely nor given media attention. They belong to an unfamiliar culture; they emanate unfamiliar thoughts. Business Week’s Nandini Lakshman recognizes that “figuring out a way to translate Bollywood for Western audiences isn’t easy.” Nonetheless, this “figuring” can be done and it has been accomplished in past years. For example, East Asian cinema has gained a flourishing mainstream American market since the 2000 release of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and it is not uncommon to find a collection of East Asian movies on DVD at one’s local supermarket. In such a manner, I view this year’s Slumdog Millionaire as a gateway into India’s more authentic, homegrown, family-friendly cinema. As Deepa Mehta, director of the 2002 crossover film Bollywood/Hollywood suggests, “The world is becoming a smaller place.” And in the smaller confines of today’s globalized world, the passions of billions of global Bollywood-watchers can no longer be ignored.

But what guarantee is there that Bollywood films have a future on the United States boxoffice charts? Why shouldn’t American theater owners and distributors ignore the world’s largest film industry? To answer these questions, Andrew Hassam of the Australian literary magazine Meanjin cites a report by Hedge Funds Review acknowledging that “overseas [European and North American] territories are big money earners for [Indian] producers and distributors and so many films are now made with an international audience in mind.” Having been born and brought up in the United States, I certainly can verify the transnational appeal of Bollywood films. Furthermore, I have shared my personal collection of Indian films with friends of all backgrounds: young and old, black and white, conservative and liberal. This “globalization of Bollywood,” as Hassam states it, is “a way in which the exotic is absorbed into the mainstream.”Throughout my own experience, I testify that most viewers find something intoxicating within an Indian film whether it be the romance, action, family values, or especially music.

Undoubtedly, any astute discussion of the Indian film industry ignoring music would be blasphemous. And Seattle’s Labossiere deems the “power of music to involve viewers” one of “Bollywood’s charms.” As Hollywood is also aware, musicals have become big business within the past few years. From Disney’s High School Musical phenomenon to successful projects such as Rent and Mamma Mia!, musicals have gained strong followings transcending socioeconomic status, cultural, and age. Now imagine an entire industry catering to an existing market where more than 95% of films feature “colorful costumes, rhythmic music…and stories that celebrate family ties and true romance.”

Furthermore, William Jasper of The New American uncovers a surprising truth: “producing wholesome films is not only morally sound but financially rewarding.” Among film circles, the Indian film industry is infamous for its overtly repressed sexuality. This image has changed; this stereotype is no longer valid. Yet, as a UPI news wire report suggests, “most Bollywood on-screen kisses…are sanitized pecks on the lips.” Consequentially, Roshan Gill, owner of a Bollywood video store, comments that “all cultures can understand the movies because…there are always family values.” In an age when “the more explicit the sex and nudity are in a movie, the worse it does at the box office” – a selection of films in which “morality and tradition are recurring themes” could prove quite profitable to all parties.

On March 24, 2002, the Indian film industry made its first major step into modern America’s sphere of influence with the Oscar nomination of Ashutosh Gowarikar’s Lagaan for Best Foreign Language Film. Then, more recently, on February 22, 2009, A.R. Rahman became the first Indian national to win an Academy Award for his pulsating soundtrack for Slumdog Millionaire. As these two incidents infer, Indian films require the attention they deserve. Moreover, further exposure of Indian films to the American public is profitable – financially and morally. Interestingly, major Hollywood production houses have begun to invest themselves in India; Sony and Warner Brothers have produced Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s Saawariya and Nikhil Advani’s Chandni Chowk to China, respectively. With American executives taking note of the potential profits within Bollywood, the future for Indian film at local cinemas is bright.

Last winter, I attended a single screening of the newly released Indian film Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi starring India’s superstar, Shah Rukh Khan, popularly dubbed “King Khan.” Amidst the blizzard conditions of suburban West Michigan, around one hundred fans had congregated in the theater for this rare opportunity to watch Bollywood on the big screen – only miles from their houses. Waiting intently for the show to start, I could hear at least a dozen languages being spoken around me: English, Hindi, Telugu, Tamil, Urdu, Arabic, and Vietnamese. The audience was global. They were families. They were laughing. They were crying. They were humming along to the music. They were speaking the fourth universal language – and they embraced it.

Boxoffice Magazine finds itself in an integral position to advance the awareness of Hollywood’s Indian counterpart: your publication extends its influence from filmmakers to film financiers, from movie theaters to moviegoers. I thank you sincerely for taking the time to reflect along with me on the niche for Indian films in the United States. To once again reference the words of Frank Capra, “Don’t follow trends, Start them!”

Respectfully Yours,

Nikhil Nandigam

An Introduction to "Devdas" - Hindi

2009-08-08T15:19:00.000-04:00

The following is a short introduction to my favorite Bollywood film - Devdas (2002). I designed this presentation as part of a Hindi/Urdu summer program for American high school students hosted by the Indiana Studies Program at Indiana University - Bloomington.

Title: "Devdas Meri Nazar Se" --- "Devdas Through My Eyes"

Date: July 2009
देवदास

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Nationalism & Its Effects

2009-05-26T17:25:00.001-04:00

“By nationalism…I mean the habit of identifying oneself with a single nation or other unit, placing it beyond good and evil and recognizing no other duty than that of advancing its interests. Nationalism is not to be confused with patriotism.”

- George Orwell, Notes on Nationalism, 1945

Today is Memorial Day – a day of remembrance of those who have, and are, sacrificing their lives and their homely luxuries in order to protect our fundamental freedoms. Our leaders are seen honoring these citizens in uniform and comforting unsure families back at home; they promise that the end is near, that the battle has been fought.

What leaders do not recognize is that war is in their own hands – and so is peace. They have the power to arrest the cycle of destruction, hatred, and alienation amongst the nations, races, religions, and ideologies of the world. To accomplish such a feat is to sway the hostile winds of history toward a new path – a path of progressivism, a path of unity. What a secure, astute world requires is what one might deem a predominant doctrine of inter-nationalism to replace the fatigued, Cold War-era nationalism.

Case 1

The Star - Spangled Banner is raised high into the clear, blue sky as hundreds of onlookers salute its prestige.

With the world’s largest economy and a self-proclaimed cultural melting pot, the United States provides the perfect example of negligent, and often destructive, nationalism. This American form of nationalism has evolved into interventionism brought about by “the fear factor.” Be the threat Saddam’s weapons of mass destruction, Iran’s nuclear program, North Korea’s nuclear tests, or Al Qaeda’s encroachment on Pakistan – the United States believes all the worlds’ evils shall direct their weapons toward its society. Such consistent practice of presumption combined with nationalistic fervor leads to deadly consequences: the Vietnam War, the current fiasco in Iraq, and the Guantanamo embarrassment, (just to name a few).

The Bush administration’s “War on Terror” – a war on an ideology, not an enemy – is a result of such heightened fear and trepidation. In essence, the United States possesses a “United States vs. Evil” foreign policy doctrine; therefore, the nation creates more enemies for itself by involving its military might in extraneous affairs and tensions the world over. The overwhelming burden is undeniably carried by the people who must supply their country with soldiers to combat the extrinsic.

Case 2

The white, green, and saffron of the tiranga[1]waft through the humid air as farmers gather their crop for the yearly harvest.

Sixty-one years after its independence, India proudly claims to be the world’s largest democracy and guardian of one of the world’s fastest growing economies – but the country has, is, and will remain plagued by the equivalent of an everlasting, giant leech: the Pakistan-Kashmir complex.

Were the nation to relinquish itself of its nationalism, the leech could simply be removed. But to the Indian government, and to the Indian people, seceding from Kashmir would signify its ultimate surrender to its neighboring rival, Pakistan.

Since the partitioning of India, the status of Kashmir has been disputed and has lead to a culture of rivalry between two peoples who were once united. Stubborn Indians believe that Kashmir forms the geographic “head of India” and that national identity would be incomplete without this block of rugged, yet gorgeous mountain territory. Meanwhile, stubborn Pakistanis struggle to comprehend why India would deplete its military and monetary resources for a strongly Islamic region whose people would prefer identification with Muslim Pakistan over Hindu India. The conclusion: an “India vs. Pakistan” doctrine. The political tension has unfortunately permeated into popular culture; the greatest victory for an Indian cricket team would be over Pakistan’s team.

And through the entire conflict, the people suffer. Terrorist organizations with questionable connections to the Pakistani government attacked Mumbai in November 2008. As Orwell writes, each side seeks only to advance “its interests,” thereby leaving common humanity behind.

Case 3

The regal Magen David [2]is hoisted above the azure waters of the luxurious Mediterranean beach, just miles away from a sanguine battleground.

Israel, a country that was destined to nationalist foreign policy from its very existence, represents a most severe example of nationalism’s detrimental effects. From Zionism to Palestine to the Mossad[3], Israel’s nationalism has promoted a largely dichotomous view of the nation to populations around the world: one either fully supports the Jewish state or one does not.

Furthermore, Israel has successfully manipulated the horrors of World War II into its national identity and into its current politics. One who is against current Israeli actions is easily termed anti-Semitic and insensible to the Jewish past. Such false corollaries are only augmented by the substantial military aid provided to Israel (a fully industrialized nation) from nations like the United States. When one publicly opposes such donation of military aircrafts or protests against excessive military action against Palestinians, Israel instantly defends itself by conjuring images of Nazi Germany. Unless this correllary is dismantled, progressice strides toward peace shall remain nearly impossible.

Secondly, Israel exemplifies a state in which, due to nationalism, has alienated its minorities. Former President Carter explicitly stated this fractured relationship by appropriately titling his book “Palestine: Peace Not Apartheid.” Not surprisingly, a recent United Nation's conference on racism was jeered and boycotted (especially by the United States) due to its critical view on Israeli policy toward non-Jewish citizens. One must remember that Israel is a theocratic democracy – practicing the will of its citizenry, but within extent of a sole religious ideology. The result is alienation, and consequentially, the creation of firm enemies. And in a global neighborhood – especially one comprising of nuclear powers – the creation of firm enemies concludes in determined bloodshed.

Conclusion

As our country mourns and memorializes those military men and women who have magnanimously sacrificed for their country and its ideals, one must question the greater well-being of humanity, not just of Americans. The destruction of borders and national identity is not the solution and is most definitely not demanded. Rather, steps toward cooperation and unity offer our world the greatest hope, a shift from nationalist unilaterialism to inter-nationalist communication. The European Union has united Europe's greatest (and historically most adverse) powers with a goal of economic and military stability. Europe has witnessed the grotesque nature of two World Wars on its soils – and hopes to prevent further fracture through unity. Unfortunately, such a system of cooperation and compromise is lacking in many communities, thus leaving the people, the potential, and the future behind in a black smog of fired artillery.

[1] The Indian flag; “tricolor”

[2] The hexagonal “Star of David” upon the Israeli flag

[3] Israeli Intelligence Agency, often criticized for overly severe actions such as torture and assassinations

Jawad Ali & KS Chitra - "Bi Amr Al Hob"

2009-05-14T15:50:00.000-04:00

A few weeks ago, the young Saudi singer Jawad Al Ali released his new 2009 album titled "Bi Amr Al Hob."

What distinguishes Jawad Al Ali from the scores of other Rotana-supported Khaleeji singers? This determining factor is clearly his passion for fusion and global interpretation of music. His musical style is more similar to that of the Kuwaiti group Guitara than to his fellow Saudis such as Abdo or Abdul Majeed Abdullah.

Jawad most definitely isn't afraid to take advantage of the influence of the Khaleej's massive South Asian population. He has previously filmed a music video with a Bollywood theme and has also sung some Hindi lyrics on a television show.

But the 2009 album,"Bi Amr El Hob," represents a new, grander effort at building a bridge across the Arabian Sea. In the album, Jawad works with famed Indian playback singer KS Chitra to produce a beautiful duet - and the album's title song.

The song appears in three different versions on the album:

Hindi
Hindi/Arabic
Turkish/Hindi/Arabic

Needless to say, the track itself is a gorgeous blend of vintage orchestration and new-age fusion. At the beginning, one hears Chitra and Jawad race through intricate Indian scales and then the track progesses into grand Oriental orchestration with an always subtle tabla.

A high point of the track is listening to Chitra's high-pitched melifluous voice glide over the Arab orchestration.

I find only one aspect of the track detracting. One hears, for example at 2:07, an eerie "voice" of technical garbage. I would have loved to hear more natural vocals in this computer's place - whether it be Chitra's or Jawad's. But this is only a miniscule detraction; this track is yet impressive.

In my opinion, I've been swept by "Bi Amr El Hob" to an extent that the other tracks on the album are not worth mentioning. In this I mean that they are no different (to me) from other Khaleeji songs. Khaleeji audiences with more understanding of the lyrics might better embrace these other tracks.

Overall, congratulations to both Jawad Al Ali and KS Chitra on this accomplishment. Hopefully, such partnerships shall continue both in music and in global politics.

Listen to the song & watch a photo montage here

Arabic Pop Recommendations (2006-2007)

2009-04-20T15:51:00.000-04:00

Since I "discovered" the Arabic pop music industry about three years, there have been many albums that I have become attached to. Each of the following albums are full of talent and entirely merit your purchase of an original copy.

If you are an enthusiast of Arab culture, or any culture for that matter, please help propagate the GOOD aspects..as the media and poilitcs have polluted the Western mind through depicting the Middle East as a fanatic and backward region of the world. Unfortunately, beauties such as Elissa and Nancy Ajram are never seen/heard in the West...but every channel is just aching to replay the next bin Laden video. What a pity!

Enjoy the music:

Artist: Elissa

Album: Bastanak (2006)

Nationality: Lebanese

Label: Rotana

Artist: Najwa Karam

Album: Hayda Haki (2007)

Nationality: Lebanese

Label: Rotana

Artist: Asala Nasri

Album: Sawaha Galbi (2007) - Khaleeji

Nationality: Syrian

Label: Rotana

Artist: Ramy Ayach

Album: Habaytak Ana (2006)

Nationality: Lebanese

Label: Rotana

Artist: Nancy Ajram

Album: Ya Tabtab W Dalla (2006)

Nationality: Lebanese

Label: Art Line Music

This extremely short list is by no means definitive. Rather I hope it serves the needs of newbies to the genre of current popular Arabic music. These were the albums with which I started my obsession/journey into the intricate Middle Eastern pop industry. These albums are catchy, pleasant to the Western ear, and diverse in their styles of music ranging from Dabke to Western pop ballads.

Find something that works for you...

Jannat - Hob Emtelak (2009)

2009-04-19T10:12:00.000-04:00

Artist: Jannat

Nationality: Moroccan

Album: Hob Emtelak (2009)

Label: Good News 4 Music

As this is my first review of an Arabic-language album, I would like to explicitly state some things:

I am not an Arab speaker nor do I understand any of the lyrics - a song might have top-rate lyrics, but I may reject it due to my own lack of awareness.
I have become familiar with the Arabic music industry since two years ago; I am not a pro, but I am proficient
I LOVE Arabic music; it is second only to Bollywood :)

So let's start with some first impressions:

I must admit that I had never listened to even a single song by Jannat before the release of "Hob Emtelak." Through browsing Al Bawaba's entertainment section, I came across an article which read like an advertisement for the album, claiming Jannat's sophomore album a "master-piece."

Secondly, I must also admit that I have a strong pro-Rotana bias. I seem, either consciously or subcosciously, to overlook a non-Rotana album unless the artist is very well known. Had I not read the stellar review by Al Bawaba, I might have ignored Jannat's Good News 4 Music-produced album. Fortunately...I didn't.

What about Jannat?

Another bias that I have is my feeling that all Egyptian male songs start sounding repetitive - same with the females. For this reason, I am not a great fan of megastars such as Amr Diab and Tamer Hosny. I seem to enjoy albums with a mix of Egyptian, Lebanese, and Khaleeji songs; I admire diversity. I also seem to disregard Egyptian-style singers because of their very

soft voices. For example, Angham, Amr, and Tamer, and ZeeZee Adel all possess this quality. I found Jannat's voice to also seem extremely soft, but her songs in "Hob Emtelak" are NOT repetitive. And due to this, I've listened to her album at least 5 times since its release.

Certain songs in the album definitely stick out to my ear:

Essmaa Kalami - This ballad style really suits Jannat. I really prefer her voice without all the digital alteration. The low-key instrumentals allow Jannat's voice to shine. The soft flow of strings and the saxophone (especially at the end) is effective.

Al Teflah Al Bareah - This is another ballad, except with a more pronounced background beat and piano. I was also charmed by the song's introduction using percussion (maybe a type of xylophone) that reminded me of a lullabye or a fairy tale.

Ana Donyetoh - This dance/electronica style isn't one of my favorites, but I really appreciated the Oriental orchestration in combination with the synthesized beats. "Ana Donyetoh" is a great lounge track.

Ashan Khatrouh - This is a full on pop song. The beats are very strong, but unlike some other singers, Jannat doesn't allow the music to overpower her voice. Very upbeat and fast, "Ashan Khatrouh" demonstrates that Jannat can do justice to both sensitive Elissa-style ballads and coquettish Haifa-style pop.

CONCLUSION:

After less than a week with this album, I am not sure whether "Hob Emtelak" can be considered a masterpiece, but the album is definitely worth $10. Considering the popularity of her debut album "Elli Benni Wa Benak" and the variety of songs on this album, "Hob Emtelak" deserves the success that it will surely meet.

(3.75/5)

Luck By Chance Music Review

2009-04-18T11:05:00.000-04:00

Film: Luck By Chance (2009)

Music Director: Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy

Lyricist: Javed Akhtar

Length: 34:31

Label: Big Music

After an immensely successful album in 2001's trend-shifting Dil Chahta Hai, S-E-L had reunited with Farhan Akhtar to produce India's critically-acclaimed Rock On in 2008. While that album appealed only to one section of the Bollywood audience in terms of musical genre, 2009's Luck By Chance provides a more diverse collection and laid-back ambience. Its soundtrack is musically complex. The album blends East and West, old and new - all to provide quality music. And in a film which itself is dedicated to demystifying the "smoke-filled room" of the modern Indian film indsutry, not to have first-rate music would have been blasphemous. Fortunately for the audience - and Farhan Akhtar - SEL deliver to provide the best soundtrack yet of 2009.

The album contains six tracks with one remix:

1. "Yeh Zindagi Bhi"

"Yeh zindagi bhi kya kya humko dikhlati hai...?"

"What does this life show us....?"

The song begins on a reflective note complemented only by a lone beat in the background. But it quickly picks up pace. The track is soothing and effectively uses piano instrumentation to produce a track that is subtle, yet charming upon first listen. The track might seem "empty" to those used to more pedestrian Bollywood tracks, but "Yeh Zindagi Bhi" is simple and allows the mind to ponder its lyrics - it is absolutely devoid of "noise". Javed Akhtar's words are extremely colloquial and simple, yet profound. The chorus is mesermising with its uplifting "Chhune hai..." and a last mention goes to the interludes (for example at 1:23).

Overall, this track is as transendental minimalist as Bollywood can get.

(5/5)

2. "Baawre"

If "Yeh Zindagi Bhi" was minimalistic, this second track "Baawre" is a gaudy, colorful, overacted funfest. This song is extremely deceiving. The first 45 seconds of the track is in traditional, classical ghazal style. At this point, the listener is expecting a track similar to Rahman's Bhor Bhaye from Delhi-6. But then the beat picks up and the song really begins. The theme is largely Rajasthani, so one can expect colors and grandeur with the song on-screen. Also, SEL inovatively included a Latin-styled interlude (2:55) complemented by Hindustani vocals which, surprisingly, works. The interlude is then followed by a Panjabi theme which closes off the song.

"Baawre" is likely to be a visual spectacle on-screen, but is still rather ordinary.

(3.5/5)

3. "Pyaar Ki Daastaan"

"Jab hawaein sunati hain tere mere pyaar ki daastaan/Sunti hai yeh fiza/Sunti hai yeh zameen/Sunta hai aasmaan"

"When the winds announce our love story/The two of us listen/This earth listens/This sky listens"

And we definitely listen as well! With the album's third track we return to another simple melody picking up where "Yeh Zindagi Bhi" had left off. "Pyaar Ki Daastaan" also heavily features piano instrumentation; the piano is most bold when the lyrics "...pyaar ki daastaan..." are sung - the piano accentuates each word perfectly. Once again, Akhtar's lyrics are extremely accessible and effective. Mahalakshmi Iyer's female part of the duet is rich and satisfying. This track is clearly romantic in an escapist sense. The songs grand orchestration contributes to a feeling of fresh wind and clean mountain air.

"Pyaar Ki Daastaan" is a refreshing track which takes the best of Indian escapist film and the best from Farhan Akhtar's arthouse sensibilities. In the end, the credit goes to SEL for making it all happen in this track.

(5/5)

4. "Yeh Aaj Kya Ho Gaya"

"Jaane yeh sab kya hai/Jo bhi hai naya sa hai/Hairat mein dil kho gaya/Yeh aaj kya ho gaya"

"Who knows what this all is/Whatever is new/In the confusion, my heart was lost/What's happening today?"

"Yeh Aaj Kya Ho Gaya" is the necessary rock-themed song. The song itself doesn't seem very innovative or new, but nonetheless is extremely enjoyable. After hits like Bachna Ae Haseeno's "Lucky Boy," listening to Sunidhi Chauhan singing a melodious, innocent song was pleasing. However, this track reminded me of the Hindi release of the High School Musical soundtrack which also features Sunidhi and compositions by SEL. Javed Akhtar's lyrics are fun, and once again colloquial, yet satisfying.

Listeners will definitely enjoy this track, especially its energy and youthful vibe. But with "Yeh Zindagi Bhi" and "Pyaar Ki Daastaan" setting such high standards, "Yeh Aaj Kya Ho Gaya" slightly disappoints.

(4/5)

5. "Sapnon Se Bhare Naina"

"Sapnon se bhare naina/to neend hai na chaina"

"Eyes full of dreams/That sleep is not peaceful"

Another one of Shankar Mahadevan's inspirational songs set on the film's leading man, "Sapnon Se Bhare Naina" is a fast, plusating song. An eeriness and darkness is present in the song, perhaps paralleling the nature of Mumbai and the film industry itself. This track does not stand out for any reason, although Mahadevan's Hindustani classical interlude (3:00) is appreciated and enriching. One point to note is that the literary value of the album jumps with this track, and Javed Akhtar is to be thanked for that.

(3.5/5)

6. "O Rahi Re"

"Kisi ko nahin hai pata/Rahi re O rahi re/Kahan ja raha hai bataa"

"No one knows/O companion/Tell me where you are going"

Upon hearing this track, it immediately reminded me of another SEL track from the 2006 film Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna - "Mitwa." Both tracks have a similar theme of companionship. "O Rahi Re" stands out with its acoustic guitar instrumentalization. Shankar Mahadevan is also very appealing in this track, especially with the line "Bol tera kaunsa rastaa" to which he adds some Hindustani flavor. In terms of lyrics, Javed Akhtar chooses mostly from Urdu which gives the track an ambience of acoustic Sufi rock.

This last original track of the album is very enjoyable and complex. Although one might need a few listens to appreciate the song, "O Rahi Re" makes up for a somewhat dull "Sapnon Se Bhare Naina."

(4/5)

CONCLUSION:

"Luck By Chance" is a marvelous album targeting today's youth. Furthermore, it complements a film of international standards and appeal. Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy had established themselves in the industry years ago, but at this moment - their presence is second only to AR Rahman. But with a few more consistently stunning, diverse, experimental albums, SEL have a great chance of becoming India's premier musical geniuses.

Buy It Here

(4.25/5)

Best of Bollywood - Romance

2009-04-16T15:30:00.000-04:00

4. Thursday - Romance

Veer-Zaara (2004)

Starring: SRK, Preity Zinta, Rani Mukherjee

Veer-Zaara is master director Yash Chopra's most recent effort and can easily be named an eternal story of not only love, but also of dedication, perseverance, and humanity. With a backdrop of tensions between India and Pakistan, Chopra tells the love story of an Indian Air Force pilot being detained at a prison in Lahore, Pakistan for over twenty years. One day, an ambitious female lawyer, Saamiya Siddiqui (played by Rani Mukherjee), arrives to defend Veer and try his case in court. It is during this period, that Saamiya is able to probe Veer's brain and extract an unbelievable love story. The love story between Veer and Zaara (played by Preity Zinta) is crafted second only to the love story between India and Pakistan - their people, their villages, their colors, and their traditions.

This film, being from the Yash Raj camp, has the gloss, necessary song-in-the-mountains, Lata & Udit duets, and corny lyrics - yet it retains its heart. Veer-Zaara is an intellectual's film in a masala film package. Needless to say, the 2005 Filmfare Award for Best Film went to Veer-Zaara.

The soundtrack by Madan Mohan is amazing and reminds one of older Bollywood soundtracks from the '90s.

Buy the DVD Here

Buy the Audio CD Here

Other ROMANTIC films include:

Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (1995)

Best of Bollywood - Family Drama

2009-04-15T15:51:00.000-04:00

3. Wednesday - Family Drama

Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham (2001)

Starring: Amitabh Bachchan, Jaya Bachchan, SRK, Kajol, Hrithik Roshan, Kareena Kapoor

The glossy, sentimental, cotton candy family drama has always been a mainstay for the Yash Raj camp - and of the Indian film industry itself. Directed and produced by Karan Johar, K3G is Johar's magnificent follow-up to his 1998 classic, Kuch Kuch Hota Hai.

Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham is the story of a family which holds tradition with utmost importance...and this causes familial rifts and fractures the once khushi family, leading them to years of ghum. Although the sets and wealth, though beautiful, clearly lack conviction or any sense of reality, the heart of the film rests with Johar's portrayal of Indian culture. The viewer notes that in a world where (metaphorically) families live in castles, dance in Egypt, and return home by private helicopter - the mellennia-old Indian, specifically Hindu, culture still prevails in determining an individual's identity and perspective on the world. And in an era of Indian commercial boom, Johar's K3G shows that Indian culture must not consequentially suffer a bust.

Once again, most great films also feature great music - this time composed by the duo Jatin-Lalit. Notable tracks include Suraj Hua Maddham, Bole Chudiyaan, Yeh Ladki Haai Allah.

Buy the DVD Here - Currently Out of Stock

Buy the Audio CD Here

Other DRAMATIC films include:

Kal Ho Na Ho (2003)

Mujhse Dosti Karoge (2002)

Kuch Kuch Hota Hai (1998)

Fanaa (2006)

Mere Yaar Ki Shaadi Hai (2002)

Best of Bollywood - Social Commentary

2009-04-14T15:57:00.000-04:00

2. Tuesday - Social Commentary

Rang De Basanti (2006)

Starring: Aamir Khan, Soha Ali Khan, Siddharth, Madhavan, Alice Patten

Rang De Basanti (Color It Yellow) proposes to bring the voice of India's youth to the international spotlight. RDB's characters are Hindu and Muslim, rich and poor, liberal and conservative, light-skinned and fair-skinned - yet together they represent an India tired of corruption, fighting, and deception by society's ad antiquitatem rhetoric. Furthermore, director Rakeysh Mehra (of Aks and Delhi-6 fame), creates a haunting parallel between the state of today's Indian youth and the eternal freedom fighters of India's Independence movement. This film is preachy to an extent and has an unconventional ending which may not appeal to all viewers. Yet, Rang De Basanti was one of the most critically-acclaimed films of 2006 and it fully merited its Filmfare Award for Best Director and BAFTA nomination for Best Foreign Language Film. For those politically-minded or wishing to view an antithesis to the stereotypical Bollywood film - I strongly suggest Rang De Basanti.

A.R. Rahman's soundtrack, for which Rahman won the 2007 Filmfare Award for Best Music Director, once again deserves a very special mention.

Buy the DVD Here

Buy the Audio CD Here

Other THOUGHTFUL films include:

A Wednesday (2008)

Swades (2004)

Dil Se (1998)

Mission Kashmir (2000)

Mumbai Meri Jaan (2008)

Delhi-6 (2009)

The Best of Bollywood - Historicals

2009-04-13T16:52:00.000-04:00

1. Monday - Historicals

Jodhaa-Akbar (2008) Starring: Hrithik Roshan, Aishwariya Rai

A film of epic proportions arrives as a prequel to 1960's classic Bollywood film, Mughal-e-Azam. Almost fifty years later, director Ashutosh Gowariker (of Lagaan fame) stages a beautiful costume drama recounting the love story of beloved liberal Mughal Emperor Akbar and his proud wife, Rajput princess Jodhaa Bai. The film follows both the political alliance as well as the marriage alliance, and for this, Jodhaa-Akbar won the 2009 Filmfare Award for Best Film. Another note of appreciation should go to composer A.R. Rahman who gifted this film with songs that held the appeal of twenty-first century youth yet stayed true to the sixteenth century Mughal courts of northwest India. Definitely a historical that is not-to-miss!

Buy the DVD Here

Other SPECTACULAR historicals include:

Devdas (2002)

Lagaan (2001)

Asoka (2001)

Umrao Jaan (1981) / Umrao Jaan (2006)

The Best of Bollywood

2009-04-13T16:18:00.001-04:00

As I hope to focus this blog on global events and entertainment, a quick introduction to the world's largest film industry is quite necessary.

Hollywood + Bombay (now Mumbai) = BOLLYWOOD

Some in the industry find this term rather offensive as it hints at a culture devoid of originality. I, on the other hand, see Indian film as a medium separate from Western film. Indian directors utilize drama, dance, music, and vibrant aesthetics to deliver what Western audiences could only witness in the grand escapist films of the early 20th century. To say that the industry produces movies is a great understatement; Bollywood produces an experience.

More about "Bollywood theory" will be discussed as this blog evolves. For now, I shall leave you with a week-long look at my favorite Indian films from various genres. Enjoy!

Reactions to "Jesus Camp"

2009-04-12T20:06:00.001-04:00

“THE JESUS CAMP”: Through the Eyes of an Atheist
Observations by Niknan

Watch it here: http://tinyurl.com/d8ctvs

This film SCARRED me. Moreover, I had to remind myself that it wasn’t a film, but a documentary – documenting events happening in the richest nation on Earth. This was happening in the United States! I also have come to the conclusion that what these people are practicing is not religion. As far as I know, it’s far from the peace, love, acceptance, and harmony taught at the core of each belief – Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, Judaism, AND atheism.

An atheist ponders religion.

Nonetheless, I would like to provide a critique of the community/sect/cult presented in the film. I provide that this critique, like the documentary, will appeal to both conservatives and liberals. But I will NOT restrain any of my own opinions for the sake of being less offensive.

Subjects: Becky Fischer, Kids in Ministry International , leader of the “Jesus Camp”

Levi, a 12 year old boy with ambitions of becoming a preacher

Rachael, an 8-ish year old “mall missionary”

Mike Papantonio, a radio host critical of the Christian right, provides a moderate perspective – a voice of reason.

RECURRING THEMES:

1. MILITANTISM
The documentary opens up with a “song and dance” program held at the Christ Triumphant Church. The children are wearing Military camouflage with their faces painted. They brandish sticks and dance to lyrics: “Arise, Arise…He will shake the nation”. This image is enforced throughout the documentary’s 90 minutes as Fischer calls for a generation of Christians to retake America for Christ. She calls for an army of Christians to counter the Muslims in “Pakistan, Israel, and Palestine.”

This is troubling. It’s extremely difficult not to see the similarities between these camo-covered children and those children seen on rough archived video of Al Qaeda training its militants. In fact, this form of militant Christianity is much more powerful than Al Qaeda’s; it had the Bush Administration’s blessings and also those of Ted Haggard (weekly advisor of Bush). Further, this Christian right has the money and resources to achieve its goals, whatever they might be.

2. PRAYING IN TONGUES TO “HOOK UP WITH THE SPIRIT”
This act has shown up multiple times in the documentary, yet I am still not clear what it achieves. If only those hundreds of children took the opportunity to learn a real language to “hook up with” real people – our world would be a more peaceful place.

3. INDOCTRINATION
“I can go into a playground of kids that don’t know anything about Christianity, lead them to the Lord in a matter of just no time at all. And just moments later they can be seeing visions and hearing the voice of god because they’re so open. They are so usable in Christianity.” – Becky Fischer
This is disturbing enough and doesn’t need commentary.

4. POLITICIZATION
“President Bush…has brought some real credibility to the Christian faith.” – Becky Fischer
President Bush plays a huge role in the lives of this community, although he never actually appears personally. We see his picture posted on a family’s refrigerator. We see a life-size cardboard cutout of Bush being brought to a podium and being blessed by hundreds of children. Seriously… if you need Bush to bring credibility to your faith, there is 1) something wrong in your faith or 2) something beautiful in Bush. Your choice.

The documentary also shows families at Ted Haggard’s evangelical church in Colorado Springs. Levi, the ambitious preacher, is in awe of Haggard and speaks with him personally after the sermon. Haggard then continues to explain how “kids love the Evangelical message” and how churches like his can “sway every election.”

Ironically, in 2006 Haggard was removed from leadership positions after soliciting a male prostitute and dealing with meth. Not exactly the winner of “Evangelical Idol.”

5. WAR AGAINST SCIENCE
“If you look at Creationism, you realize it’s the only possible answer to all the questions.”

“Science doesn’t prove anything.”

– Mother of home-schooled Levi.

I was very confused by these comments. Overgeneralizations aside, I assume that when one says that Creationism has all the answers, we are entering into the cycle of circular Biblical reasoning. The Bible might provide a story, but not facts. Science provides facts which must be built into a story.

Let’s take into account that the Ancient Egyptians believed the flooding of the Nile was attributed to God. We no longer believe so because of a certain level of scientific attainment (satellites, radars, patterns, etc). In fact, we find such reasoning foolish and naïve. We now have reasons; we now know that floods are not random acts of God. I am sure that generations of the future will find today’s religion just as foolish and simplistic as we find those of the Ancient Romans or Greeks.

6. “WE HAVE THE TRUTH” RHETORIC
Having never been a part of the “Judeo-Christian” heritage, it’s this supercilious sentiment which I find most harmful to our world. As an outsider, I don’t see why people can’t be content with their own beliefs rather than trying to force them on others as well. It’s a question of quality over quantity.

A scene at a bowling alley, shows Rachael praying as she bowls the ball. While waiting for her turn to bowl, we also see her reading a Christian tract. Although I don’t agree with this, I found it as acceptable private practice of religion. But this sentiment changed when Rachael walked over to the neighboring lane and handed the tract to a woman in her twenties claiming that:

“God’s just telling me that you’re on his mind and that he wants to take you…and love on you and he has special plans for you.”

Rachael then returns to her father and proudly explained how God drew her to the woman. Needless to say, the father was full of smiles and encouragement for his missionary daughter.

ONE FINAL NOTE:

Interestingly, when Levi attended Ted Haggard’s church and rock concert, he was wearing a black shirt with a clear image of the Taj Mahal on both the front and the back. Has anyone explained to him and his family that the Taj Mahal was built as a monument for eternal love by a MUSLIM Mughal Emperor *gasp*!!! Burn that shirt!!! Cleanse his soul of Satan!!!

CONCLUSION

Overall, this documentary opens Americans to the radical extremists in their own nation. It asks the religious moderates to debate the radical factions of their faith. And it asks the nonreligious to cooperate with the moderates in order to preserve America’s image of secularity.

Personally, knowing that a cult faction of the extreme right is intent on a twenty-first century Manifest Destiny is not comforting.

Moreover, in a globalized society, a United States overcome by such Evangelical rhetoric in practice will be unsustainable. And we were witness to only the tip of the iceberg under the Bush Administration.

Rather, we must lose the ethocentricity and xenophobia which have conquered the nation for the past decade. And bring together once again the fractured society of the United States to its original, intended equilibrium.