Why would 25 rupee National news magazines come with a free glossy pullout splashed with brands peddling million dollar watches, race cars, clothes, perfumes and expensive wines? Is it to appeal to the secret voyeur within us? Or to remind us how depraved and poor we all are? Or to tell us that if we can’t afford caviar and champagne, our lives are not worth living? Why do I still buy those twenty five Rupee magazine and glance through the glossy pullout quickly before I go on to read the grim and gory stories of the badlands of Chattisgarh, or the shenanigans of politicians?
I remember the times that I first went to work as a Bank Officer as a callow, impressionable 22 year old youth. In the Karyavattom Campus where I was studying then, my jhola toting, bidi puffing, Kurta clad friends were convinced that I had made it to the big times. Getting a decent job before I have officially not yet completed my post graduate course was a master stroke and all that remained to be bagged was a buxom, sexy wife, they said.
It is going to be a quarter century since I started my working life. And I am humbled that I have nothing much to show for it. As a village boy, I aspired to a certain refinement. Polish the rough edges, look good, carry oneself well, speak with great clarity, erudition and sophistication, live the good life, read interesting books and listen to great music. I made several unfruitful attempts to break free from middle class smugness and rise above hoi polloi.
One of the earliest attempts was a hand at Golf- that great game where big guys in tees and sports shoes chase tiny white balls. Once, about 18 years back, I went for Golf lessons to a mini Golf course in Gurgaon with an instructor who entertained visions of making men out of country bumpkins. One of my friends ( I seem to have many friends from that anarchic Demi-republic of Bihar!!) had his mouth full of Paan and in the midst of frenetic instructions, rather nonchalantly let loose a long stream of chewed red cud and liquid to the pristine, trimmed grass. As the rest of the group stood horrified, we decided Golf is not for us. Much later in life, a senior member of the uniformed services who was kindly predisposed to me offered me a chance at a Golf Club membership and a good quality Golf set at a special price. He really believed that I belong right up there; and also that I would grab the deal and go on to rub shoulders with the big boys at the pretentious game. I turned down the offer without a thought.
The other long drawn attempt was at enjoying fine liquor. I can lay claim to have downed some exquisite liquor, but without really being able distinguish between a single malt and other down market stuff like Diplomat- or a good vintage red and a $10 for three bottles of cheap Chilean wine. When I read men of taste write eloquently on the smoky, peaty aftertaste of the golden whisky and the wines that have the flavor of blueberries with a fruity tinge, I can’t for the life of me figure it out: nor can I figure out how these worthies acquired such complex tastes.
One major disappointment was the inability to appreciate classical Western Music. I have always preened at having a fine ear for music: or so my friends said. But my music shares its origins with the Vietnam War, flower children and Folk rock. I would get these calls at midnight “Could you check out this Barclay James Harvest number from the album "Gone to Earth"? An endorsement from me meant something to my musically inclined friends- Even today my good friends are not from the Babudom; but from a forgotten time when we lived and breathed music. But Classical Western always stumped me. Not that I am completely impervious to the charms of the music from heavens, where men in black suits and bow ties and women wearing pearl necklaces sit in many rows and play to the hushed silence of appreciative music lovers. Pachelbel’s Canon, Bach’s Air on a G string can still send me into paroxysms of joy. But my untutored ears never achieved the refinement to distinguish between the best and the rest- or to compare the relative merits of different renditions.
Not for me the glitzy charm of malls chock a block with clothing stores, watch and perfume stores. Not for me exquisite liquor coming in fancy casks or vintage wines that cost a bomb. Not for me the Adagios, contraltos and Tchaikovsky. Not for me the correct deportment; or the right accent. I come from the back of beyond and that’s where I am gonna go…. eventually.
Tuesday 23 February 2010
Friday 19 February 2010
Prisoner of the State
The sun doesn’t shine anymore. The air is chilly and vision blurred with fog. Mornings bring a queer sense of depression: the downbeat weather seeps into one’s weary, tired bones. Moods plunge, tempers rise and life is not very pleasant at the workplace. If I have slipped very badly in keeping this blog going, it has to do with the down and out feeling that seems to taken hold of me.
I read Zhao Zhiyang’s secret autobiography called Prisoner of the State. He was the Chinese Premier who was discredited after the Tiananmen clampdown and spent the rest of his life under glorified detention. He had maintained copious notes on his life in house arrest after the Tiananmen clampdown. Here is a man who occupied the highest pinnacles of power only to spend his sunset years of life as a non-entity. Often the Tiananmen uprising is linked to the death of Hu Yaobang- another icon of the youth who stood for openness and allegedly, a liberal political environment. Hu was discredited and sent to oblivion. He eventually died early. The uprising was seen by the dominant lobbies in the power structure in China as something profoundly influenced by the values of the decadent west. Secondly the pro democracy movement was going out of control with the lumpen elements taking law into their own hands. Zhao’s soft line was decried and a clampdown was ordered. Zhao’s discussions with Gorbachev regarding status of Deng Xia Ping in the Chinese power structure also unwittingly contributed to his downfall.
The book gives an insight into China’s party politbureau, which is interesting at many levels. Firstly the single-minded and earnest pursuit of growth which lifted millions out of poverty over a quarter century is probably the most remarkable success story of our time. When India’s SEZ policy, evolved democratically is being slammed for being a sellout to the real estate lobby, the Chinese had used it as an instrument of development of Coastal and backward regions. While they have managed to urbanize and create jobs for millions in the organized manufacturing sector, have we only created a few investment bankers, consultants in fancy suits and software professionals? Don’t we have the largest chunk of population still eking out a marginal existence in the unorganized sector? We don’t know if their society has been rid of divisions. But clearly it is a richer society with better health, education and infrastructure indicators. Sometimes an opaque system can generate as much meaningful debate and produce quicker results. Is there a lesson in it for us somewhere? No, thank you please. I have seen how a transparent system itself is twisted to personal benefit. In a very complex, multicultural society such as ours, the more open, the better. With a robust constitution, Right to Information Act, active media and judiciary our people get away with brutality and sheer ruthlessness. Think about a system without these deterrents... It would be something like Nigeria multiplied into five. Give me a messy, flawed democracy anyday…
The book gives a rare insight into the workings of a system that is little known to the outside world. It is interesting to see words like mistakes, rectifications, self criticism etc used to analyze policy perspectives. No complex mumbo jumbo that one would encounter in the capitalist world. The power structure in the politbureau had clear divisions of reformists and the old guard. One fact also shines through. No matter how much the individual roles and perceptions are underplayed in the Communist system…. In the end, individuals hold the key. The power structure had its' own dynamics with complex interplay of lobbies. Zhao probably played his cards wrong. It was heartrending to read how Zhao tried to seek small privileges like permission to play Golf etc from captivity. He would cite party rules for more freedom; but in the end the mammoth unfeeling system did what it wanted to do.
In many ways we are all prisoners of the state, in different degrees I suppose. Tied to a job that I loathe- to an existence that restricts freedom in many subtle ways- tied to the social norms and the perverted hierarchy of Delhi’s Babudom. To be scoffed at by the elite… to be insensitive to the many inequities of life. I often wonder whether we are of the 21st century bureaucracy of an ambitious nation or a 16th century feudal serfdom.
I read Zhao Zhiyang’s secret autobiography called Prisoner of the State. He was the Chinese Premier who was discredited after the Tiananmen clampdown and spent the rest of his life under glorified detention. He had maintained copious notes on his life in house arrest after the Tiananmen clampdown. Here is a man who occupied the highest pinnacles of power only to spend his sunset years of life as a non-entity. Often the Tiananmen uprising is linked to the death of Hu Yaobang- another icon of the youth who stood for openness and allegedly, a liberal political environment. Hu was discredited and sent to oblivion. He eventually died early. The uprising was seen by the dominant lobbies in the power structure in China as something profoundly influenced by the values of the decadent west. Secondly the pro democracy movement was going out of control with the lumpen elements taking law into their own hands. Zhao’s soft line was decried and a clampdown was ordered. Zhao’s discussions with Gorbachev regarding status of Deng Xia Ping in the Chinese power structure also unwittingly contributed to his downfall.
The book gives an insight into China’s party politbureau, which is interesting at many levels. Firstly the single-minded and earnest pursuit of growth which lifted millions out of poverty over a quarter century is probably the most remarkable success story of our time. When India’s SEZ policy, evolved democratically is being slammed for being a sellout to the real estate lobby, the Chinese had used it as an instrument of development of Coastal and backward regions. While they have managed to urbanize and create jobs for millions in the organized manufacturing sector, have we only created a few investment bankers, consultants in fancy suits and software professionals? Don’t we have the largest chunk of population still eking out a marginal existence in the unorganized sector? We don’t know if their society has been rid of divisions. But clearly it is a richer society with better health, education and infrastructure indicators. Sometimes an opaque system can generate as much meaningful debate and produce quicker results. Is there a lesson in it for us somewhere? No, thank you please. I have seen how a transparent system itself is twisted to personal benefit. In a very complex, multicultural society such as ours, the more open, the better. With a robust constitution, Right to Information Act, active media and judiciary our people get away with brutality and sheer ruthlessness. Think about a system without these deterrents... It would be something like Nigeria multiplied into five. Give me a messy, flawed democracy anyday…
The book gives a rare insight into the workings of a system that is little known to the outside world. It is interesting to see words like mistakes, rectifications, self criticism etc used to analyze policy perspectives. No complex mumbo jumbo that one would encounter in the capitalist world. The power structure in the politbureau had clear divisions of reformists and the old guard. One fact also shines through. No matter how much the individual roles and perceptions are underplayed in the Communist system…. In the end, individuals hold the key. The power structure had its' own dynamics with complex interplay of lobbies. Zhao probably played his cards wrong. It was heartrending to read how Zhao tried to seek small privileges like permission to play Golf etc from captivity. He would cite party rules for more freedom; but in the end the mammoth unfeeling system did what it wanted to do.
In many ways we are all prisoners of the state, in different degrees I suppose. Tied to a job that I loathe- to an existence that restricts freedom in many subtle ways- tied to the social norms and the perverted hierarchy of Delhi’s Babudom. To be scoffed at by the elite… to be insensitive to the many inequities of life. I often wonder whether we are of the 21st century bureaucracy of an ambitious nation or a 16th century feudal serfdom.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)