Kunhaman Sir

    In the staid academic world of mid 80s, M Kunhaman, Professor of Economics in the kerala University campus in karyavattom, stuck out like a sore thumb. He taught us economic theory. His eyes would glint when he spoke of classic Marxian thought. My senior Balu used to think highly of his class on Marxism. But my reading range was eclectic. I was into Ayn Rand, Marshall McLuhan and a lot of other stuff in those days. I believed (rather prophetically, I must say) that Communism was bound to fail. But all those who had a good range of reading and whom one could relate to, were in the leftist eco-system. The centrists, called Free thinkers, were mostly those who had only their family lineage to back them; not quite up there intellectually. Not that ideology had much role to play in our staid, eventless lives....

    Kunhaman Sir and I shared a common origin. We both were from the same college; Govt Victoria College in Palghat (Palakkad now) and he silently acknowledged that bond with me. He would never slip into vernacular and would always speak, although slowly, in English. Frankly I found his thoughts on Marxism and its basics, regarding means of production and the alienation of workers from it, very divorced from reality. World was too complex to be analysed in terms of theories rooted in the bygone era of Industrial Revolution in Europe. Euro communism was taking roots then; so was liberation theology in South America. Deng's new China had started experimenting with new shades of Communism. I felt Marxism has got stuck in a time warp, at least among the campus intellectuals in the Kerala University campus.

  I have some interesting memories of Kunhaman Sir. Once we had all gone to a lecture by K N Raj, the famous Economist who established the highly successful Centre for Development Studies in Trivandrum, This was 1984, I think, when Kerala was yet to become a tourist destination and God's own country etc. K N Raj spoke about how Kerala had many rivers that are alive around the year and how these, along with picturesque lakes, could be developed into a major tourist attraction. He recommended building cottages along the waterways and training locals to provide food, boarding and boating. Prophetic, it turned out to be for most of us failed to see backward kerala developing into a major tourist destination. Kuhaman Sir was sitting outside on the steps after the lecture. I remember him smiling and telling us that he (K N Raj) has very firm/ clear ideas and will always talk like this. Whether it was an endorsement of his ideas or was it in jest, I can't say. But I felt he was disappointed that K N Raj evaded larger questions of livelihoods in Kerala, like agriculture, industry etc.

  The second occasion was interesting. An Economist, (called Rangarajan, if my memory serves right) had visited China and was talking about how farm reforms and other industrial reforms of State owned enterprises are putting China on a growth path, thereby lifting masses out of poverty. At the end of the talk, Kunhaman Sir confronted him and asked whether it is not revisionism for a communist country. I remember the speaker trying the dodge his questions and trying to wind up his lecture at the earliest.

  Kunhaman Sir never spoke about his struggles with life and never sought approval. I was shocked to read his auto-biography in which he had written about his growing up years. I always thought of him as a proud and self possessed person. I had been reading the encomiums showered on him after his death (by suicide, it seems). I've been reading about how he was deceived by politicians and not given his due. Many of his leftist co-travellers think that he deserved to be at least, a Vice Chancellor of a University.

In the 1980s Kerala, the world was very different from what we inhabit today. Many of my classmates entertained dreams of becoming lecturers in Economics. They would engage in discussions as to how much should be paid as "donation"to acquire a teaching position in aided private colleges belonging to NSS/ SNDP and other institutions belonging to minority communities. Snagging a job which gives livelihood was a bigger concern. I don't think anyone saw Kunhaman Sir as belonging to ST community (In fact I didn't know this until I read somewhere recently). His short stature and curly hair was a giveaway, but that did not diminish his stature as a teacher highly regarded by most of his students. I'm sure that if anyone showed discrimination to him, he would have just brushed it away or hit back at them rather proudly. He himself didn't carry any identity complexes or even expect anything. However, I found his thoughts in later year interviews rather strange.. (he believed that all the wealth in the world has to be equally divided among humans. What after that? one may ask. Someone decides to blow up his wealth on booze: someone else chooses to spend it on industry/ stock market and multiply it). I came to know from my friends that he suffered many setbacks in his personal life too. He struggled with demons in his life and having retired from his teaching assignments, he must have thought it fit to go and not linger on. I wish he had stayed on and fought another day.

I keep thinking that, if someone had chosen to make him a VC of a university because he belonged to the oppressed class, he would have politely declined it. To me, he was too proud to be fed the morsels of sympathy from society. I would like to think of him as that man who lived on his own terms and decided to go when he felt it was time to go. 

Varanasi

 The time of life when you read a book is important how it impacts you. One could vividly recollect books read in one's youth, than the ones that were read in later life, while juggling with life's many challenges.  M T Vasudevan Nair, the Jnanpeeth award winning novelist from Kerala, is one writer I grew up with.  If the earlier books had alienation of youth of an era, in his later books his craft took several leaps of improvement and the themes became diverse. The lonely, silent and brooding youth from Malabar, fighting the demons of his past, crudely and selfishly honest is the protagonist in many of his earlier books. MT went on to write movie scripts, travelogues, unconventional take on mythologies etc. There was dark rain, green verdant environs, old tiled households (tharavad) with fences of bamboo thorns in his books. There is always the river, Nila or Bharatapuzha that silently flows through many books, often at its' raging best in monsoon. 

I could easily identify myself with the the male protagonist in his books although they are from a different era. MT is about 30 years older to me, we both grew under the same slice of Malabar sky, he studied in my college many years earlier and....the river and rains so evocatively brought out in his books were always a part of my lonely, lost adolescence. Nothing much had changed during the lost decades of 50s, 60s and 70s.

Just when I smugly thought that I had finished reading all the stuff that MT has written, I discovered that I haven't read Varanasi, one of his later works. Seldom have I sat through a book and read it in one sitting. The protagonist, Sudhakaran, like many M T characters, goes away from his village, leaving behind a distraught girl. A loner, he went on to make a living and was almost ensnared into a marriage with the daughter (who claimed that he has impregnated her) of a man who mentors him in Bombay. Again he makes a dash for freedom and ends up in Bangalore, many cities in Tamilnadu, Paris and returns to Varanasi, alienated from his parents, siblings and his roots. 

    Varanasi evokes mixed feelings in him. He meets Ramlal, the scion of a family that is in charge of the fire that kept burning from the time of Harishchandra. He tries to meet Srinivasan, another mentor from academics, but he had passed away, leaving behind Rukmini akka, the widow who lived with him and cared for him. There is a procession of lonely men & women, struggling with existence, Om Prakash, Chandramouli, Sumita Nagpal, Ramakrishnan and others who played bit roles in the theatre that is life.  He had made a trip a one year trip to France where  his paths cross again with Madeleine and has a boy  named Hari from her. She moves to US with Hari. 

  There he is, alone, with emptiness in life, no heirs to acknowledge him ... although he is the father of two kids. He dips into river Ganga and does the pindam ritual (seeking salvation to dead souls of near and dear ones).... After several dips he wants to know whether he can do it for his own self. The priest confirms that there is something called Aatma pindam. He goes on to performs the rituals for his own soul. It is a beautifully written novel.. traversing across time, space and generations

   

Blasphemy

The oldest known case of Blasphemy in the Indian sub-continent is the publication of Rangeela Rasool(1924), a satirical work which contained references to the colourful life of Prophet Mohammed. Apparently, this was in response to a pamphlet (Sita ka Chinala) that depicts Sita, the Hindu God Lord Ram’s wife as a prostitute. The publication of Rangeela Rasool was done anonymously, without reference to the author (Pandit Chamupati) or the publisher (Rajpal & sons). The publisher of the Rangeela Rasool, ended up being killed by a carpenter from Lahore. The aforesaid carpenter was punished with the death sentence, but his grave is worshipped by believers. Full length movies have been made in Pakistan, which depict him as a Ghazi (warrior of the faith) 

  The origins of blasphemy laws could be traced to one of the Ten commandments which exhorts that “Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain”. Blasphemy laws which were in the statutes of many western democracies have been abolished- some as late as in 2019. Free speech obviously trumps over the need to punish rants and other forms of active disrespect to Gods. In the early days, the very denial of existence of God entailed burning dis-believers at the stake. All established religions have unleashed a wave of violence, killings, maiming and burning of books. Some of the great libraries containing treasure trove of knowledge of ancient Alexandria, Constantinople and Nalanda were burned by the faithful. The burning of churches in Pakistan is said to be in retaliation to burning of Quran in Sweden. Is blasphemy law consistent with 21^st century values?

    Presently blasphemy laws exist mostly in the Middle East Asian and African nations. Countries like Singapore have it in their statutes only to prevent disruptions in their fine-tuned social order. Indian laws on blasphemy are said to have originated after the Rangeela Rasool case. While blasphemy and associated punishments originated in Christianity, they are embedded as laws in Islamic nations like Pakistan and enforced by enraged crowds. In the Indian state of Kerala, which has a substantial Muslim population, worrying incidents have taken place; like the hacking of limbs of a college professor for preparing a question paper (allegedly containing adverse references to Prophet Muhammed) and the enforced disappearance of Chekannur Maulvi, an Islamic cleric who, according to the establishment Islamists, was preaching a deviant form of Islam.  

   A right to blaspheme would be a good idea and it would be consistent with present day values. Some Scandinavian/European nations already have it. And that’s how a cartoon here or a Quran burning there raises the temperatures elsewhere and threaten to spoil international relations. In a country like India, where there is so much diversity and majoritarianism growing, penal provisions for blasphemy acts as a spark that could light large fires. Proselytization and conversion start with highlighting limitations or irrationality in rival religions. If every such speech or utterance is considered blasphemous enough to rouse crowd-rage, the whole thing could metamorphose into something beyond control. Qatar insisted that India apologise for the utterances about Prophet Muhammed by BJP spokesperson Nupur Sharma in a TV show, while Qatar had, many years ago, given refuge to M F Hussain, after rabid Hindu crowds wanted his scalp for depicting Hindu Goddesses in the nude. 

      Would it not be a good idea to banish signs of religion from public spaces, like textbooks, offices, assemblies, rallies etc? Since such displays could create fissures in society, as it did in Nuh recently, it makes immense sense to do so. Anyone who takes up arms or indulges in violence in retribution could be sent to re-education camps, much like the ones in Xin jiang province in China, where according to western sources, at some point of time, at least one million citizens were incarcerated and taught to live as good citizens. Much as it would help national unity etc, it may not be practical since most political parties encash on religion as their vote bank. 

A Death in Denmark

   The author is young. She peers out of the photograph, bare arms, tattoo on wrist and a closely cropped, punk haircut. It left one imagining more tattoos and rings in unmentionable parts of her body. She is Indian, has Danish citizenship and lives in the US. 
 
      Amulya Malladi has written a most enjoyable book called “A Death in Denmark”. I loved the protagonist Gabriel Praest. (the ‘a’ in Praest merges with the ‘e’ and I can’t bring about that magic on my keyboard.) So, I shall stick to the name Gabriel. The story revolves around death of a rightist politician. An immigrant from Iraq is accused of the murder. Gabriel, an ex-cop, presently a private investigator, was hounded out of police service for launching an unauthorized investigation into corruption by a politician. He also plays the guitar in the evenings at assorted watering holes in Denmark. He has a grown-up daughter. His ex-partner’s husband is a lawyer. Gabriel, who shares a functional relationship with his ex, has his digs at her husband’s office. He is also wealthy, dresses well, is perennially upgrading his house, has a taste for exquisite wine, reads/ quotes philosophy (Kierkegaard/Nietzsche/ Sartre) and rides a bicycle to work.
 
    Well, I liked the guy. Half the battle is won when you’ve created a very likable detective/ private investigator/ amateur cop. And if there is subtle humour, easy readability and the bad guys are caught in the end, (I hate uncertain endings, in books or movies) then you have a winning formula.
 
The story begins with the World War II, when Gestapo rounds up Jewish refugees and merciless kill the family, including two children,  that hides them. There was apparently a highly placed Danish mole, a collaborator who gives up the location of Jewish refugees. Many years later, the entire affair is caught up in the politics and business of the day. Sanne Melgaard, the woman politician had been busy investigating the identity of the mole and her research gets her into uncomfortable places. The immigrant Yousuf Ahmed is framed for her murder. Gabriel is pushed into the case by his ex-lover Leila, who believes that Yousuf is innocent. Dead bodies turn up and several brazen threats are made to dissuade Gabriel from digging further into the case. 
Along the way, Gabriel has the help of his good friends from college and the Police chief Tommy himself. Finally, his investigation reaches to those right at the top of Danish politics.
  
This is a fast read and I am already looking forward to the next book in the series. However, there is underlying elitism in the food  they eat, clothes they wear etc and I am not sure that Private investigators have a rich lifestyle even in the developed world. Anyway, it is soothing to read of lives of privilege, than those trying to make ends meet.

 

Pakistan Watcher

The Pakistan High Commission in Chanakyapuri , New Delhi falls on my route for daily morning walk. I take a turn near the Nehru Park, where the rich and mighty park their huge cars and the Mem-saabs and Saabs are out for their daily constitutional. The path opposite to Nehru park abuts the back gate of Pakistan High Commission. That is where the visa seekers queue up early in the morning. They are mostly a ragged lot. Each hiding a story of tragedy and separation of bloodlines…A few men with ancient typewriters and make-shift tables and chairs sit on the sidewalk and assist visa seekers, maybe to  type and fill forms in Urdu. The queues are small but I can see that it involves long waiting times. I cheekily tell the missus, the rate at which those in India are told to go to Pakistan, we just might be queueing up some day here. A little way down is the US Embassy. A different lot are waiting their turn on the street. Mostly students accompanied by parents, both middle class and upper class.

             When a bunch of well armed citizens from Pakistan reached Mumbai and shot down 166 odd people who were just about going about their daily business, most Indians stopped entertaining kind thoughts about that country. It made a stronger impression than the fateful day that they attacked the Indian Parliament and killed our policemen. During the Kargil War, many soldiers of Pakistan’s Northern Light Infantry lost their lives. The bodies were not taken back by Pakistan and they pretended that these dead bodies are of anonymous Mujahideen and did not belong to Pakistan. A country that disowns its own, fell in my eyes. 

 

     I have been reading Dawn, a prominent Pakistani newspaper, for a good 26 years. One can’t help feeling that while Indian media has become very polarized and commercialized, Dawn has maintained a certain degree of quality and editorial integrity. In recent times I’ve started listening to a few Pakistani vloggers who are unabashed critics of their Army and politicians. Nowadays I am looking forward to my daily dose of entertainment from that hapless country. 

I had a few good friends from the Pakistan Administrative service (or the DMG as it was called) 14 years back, during my stint in Australia. I always wondered how very much like mainstream Indians, the UP/Bihar/Haryana/Punjab types, they are. They were good friends, intelligent and great company. Over the years, I’ve tried to be in touch with at least one of them, who was closest to me. But I realized that an Officer in service would have much to answer for if they continue to be in touch with Indians. Whereas I, despite belonging to the Indian Ministry of Defence, had nothing much to worry. And I thought that’s where we, as a country, trump over them.

                 Imran Khan’s party, ie the PTI has gone on offensive against the Army, the most important player in the power structure of Pakistan. They had trained their guns on Qamar Javed Bajwa, the erstwhile Army Chief. The present Army chief, apparently an appointee of the PDM, the coalition of seasoned politicians presently ruling Pakistan, has also come for strident criticism. With huge debt crisis and terrorism by TTP added to their cup of woes, things are not looking good for them. Many Indians now believe that this situation in the neighbouring country would keep them busy with their problems, thereby relieving us of terrorism through a thousand cuts, a policy initiated by Zia up Haq and practiced by successive military and civilian governments. 

         Qamar Bajwa, the erstwhile Army Chief, appeared to be a believer in civilian supremacy, a refreshing change from the control freaks in their Army. He was intelligent enough to have a cease fire agreement with India, while the Afghan situation was getting out of hand, and the US propped regime was about to fall like nine pins. With the imminent return of Taliban, there was risk of refugee inflow from the western border. By signing a cease fire agreement with India, he achieved a peaceful eastern border that could let him concentrate on the fluid situation across the Durand line.  (While it suited India too since the situation across LAC with the China wasn’t looking good). Bajwa also publicly postured that he wanted to keep the Army out of politics. Unfortunately, Pakistani politics is so much intertwined with the Army in the power structure that there truly was no way it could be achieved. While Imran Khan blamed USA (Amreeka, as the Pak anchors say) for his dislodgement from power, Bajwa knew that severing ties with US would hurt Pakistan more. Some of their most effective weapon systems and platforms are of US origin, harking back to relationship several decades old. Hence he rose up to defend Pakistan Army’s ties with USA. The defence equipment sourced from China, their strategic ally, are not very reliable. (It is the world’s worst kept secret, if whispers from recipient nations are to be believed. But that’s another story altogether.)

But I could see Pakistani diplomats/ defence analysts castigating Bajwa for not propping up Imran Khan and for backing the Sharif -Zardari duo behind the scenes. In Pakistani social media, PTI (ie Imran Khan’s party) supporters ran a huge campaign against the Army chief. The Army Chief’s personal financial details are in the public domain. The telephone conversations of many PTI leaders, family of judges and even the PM himself have been leaked. Everyone’s convinced that it is the spy agency ISI’s doing. The fact that senior Army Officers in Pakistan are allotted land in posh colonies run by the DHA (Defence Housing Authority) is a great source of amusement to those in India. The unreleased historical data of land allotments to the predecessors of Bajwa might be explosive. Most retired senior bureaucrats and uniformed Officers in India live in modest 3 bedroom apartments (like yours truly) and lead a spartan life. I suppose it’d be a good idea for Pakistan to discontinue this and allot land only to widows of those who lost lives in defending the country against terrorists. 

     There are multiple problems that besiege that country. A broken educational system that places too much emphasis on religion, elitist capture of institutions, messy public finances, burgeoning population, dysfunctional healthcare system, all feeding each other. The Army’s claims of staying away from politics wasn’t such a strong resolve, after all. It only took violence against Army installations on 9^th May 2023 by PTI supporters, to drive the Pak Army back to their old games. Sympathy to that country flows only from a few countries like China, Saudi Arabia and UAE, who also suffer from aid-fatigue. However, thinking of the few good men I’ve known, who belong to that country, I wish them peace and reconciliation.