Indo-Afghan "Ekta"

My driver is also a good friend of mine… much of whether I remain safe and sound depends on his power of observation and discretion… and I really owe my life to him…

Like the day when I was going somewhere on the bullet-proof vehicle, he saw a suspicious looking person following us for quite some distance… he changed the speed of our vehicle again and again to discern whether this suspicious character had some ace up his sleeve… luckily this suspicious character did not have one… but one day another suspicious character might have one… and what would save the day for me, is the same power of observation and discretion.

He is happily married… with lovely sons… and when I met them; I was reminded of my own sons- who sleep in a distant land in the laps of their mother, unaware of this world where nothing seems to be fine… a place where explosions and rockets are order of the day… defying all human sensibilities and understandings.

Much of what I know or come to know about this society is through interaction with friends like him… and more I know about this society… it seems that they are quite like us… same anxieties and same aspiration… same cravings and same shortcomings.

Today, my driver (whose name is for the sake of narration Abdul, lest I may not jeopardize his own well being) told me a funny instance that set me thinking… about a fight that happened between his wife and him… over what program would be watched on the television. Abdul was insisting that they should watch a football match and his wife wanted to see a television serial on Lamaar TV (one of the very successful private satellite channels in Afghanistan)… and the program was a dubbed version of “Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi”.

He told me that an average Kandahari household keeps a electric generator in his house which is used only when it is the time of these serials’ broadcast… and how wives have started forcing their husbands to buy electric generators… in a society, where till a few years back (and even now) women were (and sometimes still are) flogged for making appearance in public… (Kandahar, as an aside, does not receive more than 2-3 hours of electricity on normal days… and sometime a VIP visit ensures 10-12 hours of electricity…)

“Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi” and “Kahanii Ghar Ghar ki” are the most popular soaps in these badlands… so popular that they are changing a lot of habits in this place… so popular that they are forcing the women to make choices… so popular that they hold a key to future…

I have always hated Ekta Kapoor serials… for making life a melodrama of telling story of every house in an surreal fashion… making me rub my eyes in disbelief… for turning women into villains… I have always made fun of them… always shouted at my mother for seeing it…. I, like many others, just ridiculed and trashed these serials… but now after seeing their popularity in Afghanistan… I am forced to change my opinion about them.

When I look back… Ekta Kapoor’s serial changed a lot of things in Indian household… where women were left to see television in a humiliating fashion… after the “cricket games” for males and “cartoon shows” for kids…. Never ever they could watch anything during the prime time… and when they tried they were reminded that they are in the homes for the entire day…. A truth half told… for there weren’t any program worth a watch during the days…

But Ekta Kapoor’s serial changed it… suddenly women started demanding to see these serials… where women were heroes and villains… and so what… suddenly… women were using their machinations and sexuality like Komolikas and Parvatis… to beat males in their game, only to be helped by their better halves to be bailed out… suddenly women were at the centre.

And suddenly… women were at the centre stage…. They didn’t need to hang on to their husbands to see a drama, a film… some source of entertainment… they now had it right there in their bedrooms…

Some prudes… actually laughed at the kind of intellect that these serials were spreading… making women their prey… in retrospect, I feel the fallacy in their logic… these were the same people who for ages didn’t allow their women to have a rightful place in society… wrote treatise in which women was shown a rightful recipient of a thrashing and bashing….

Things are changing in these badlands… Ekta Kapoor and her ilk are worthy of being called India’s brand ambassador in these badlands… suddenly families after families are learning Urdu/Hindustani (they are not satisfied with the dubbing on Lamaar TV… and want to see it on Star Utsav, which is re-running these serials… the sartorial habits are changing… everyday I meet people, who have dumped Lahore and are shifting “clothes procurements” to Surat and Delhi… so what these serials are doing is a great exercise of public diplomacy, which no diplomat can do… and no enemy state can stop….

But more than that… it is changing the power structures within the society… women have started asking their husbands to buy generators, they have started asking their husbands to take care of the kids during the primetime… they have started reminding their husband to buy kerosene… for the generators…

It also has some funny repercussions, though. A funny incident that happened a few months ago when a few thieves entered a house… well aware that all the women would be watching the serials and holed up in a room… they stole everything… and left a message “Long Live Ekta”…

Sorry Ekta… for demeaning you for so long… perhaps even you are aware… to what kind of revolution you are ushering us into… hats-off to all your efforts… and long live your serials

Afghanistan needs you… to resurrect itself.

A Cute Movie and a Beautiful Quote....

This quote is from a 2004 movie.... LEMONY SNICKET'S: A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS....

Loved these last lines in the movie...

Dear reader, there are people in the world who know no misery and woe. And they take comfort in cheerful films about twittering birds and giggling elves. There are people who know that there's always a mystery to be solved. And they take comfort in researching and writing down any important evidence. But this story is not about such people. This story is about the Baudelaires. And they are the sort of people who know that there's always something. Something to invent, something to read, something to bite, and something to do, to make a sanctuary, no matter how small. And for this reason, I am happy to say, the Baudelaires were very fortunate indeed.

Something to invent, something to read, something to bite, and something to do, to make a sanctuary, no matter how small....

How true...

On Alang and Howard Roark

One of the most haunting memories that I have… pertains to reading epical and epochal “Fountainhead”… Among so many questions that it raised… was… Can a Roark become a Keating? And how to avoid becoming Keating… if you are Roark?

This question, mind you, is an existential one… for everyone… who had ever been a Roark… for he would vouch that being Roark is no mean task in the world, which is inhabited by the multitudes of Keatings and Tooheys… absolutely existential.

Often, I have found myself battling with same question… do I have the abilities of Roark… can I preserve Roark within me…

Like for instance, when I was studying in IIT Bombay… I was least bothered with what kind of grades I am getting or what kind of summer internship I would be able to procure… I hated the crass commoditization that had been done to the education of Business Management… I used to dwell into far more pertinent questions- Why do we need options and futures… is it a ploy to reduce risk (rather transfer the liability of risk) to increase profits, and experiences have often lead us to realize that this continual transfers of risk… shift the liability of risk to the weaker and marginalized players. (Time proved me right, today, similar question are being asked to the Merchant and Investment Bankers… and a crass and crude effort is being stage-managed to save Capitalism… doling out 1000 of billions of dollars to ailing and dying corporations, parts of which are used to pay retention bonus to the perpetrators!!! I remember the same world did not have tenth the amount to help dying Africa to meet its Millennium Development Goals)

Anyways… then came Delhi, that started changing the Roark within me… the city asked me… which Car do I drive… what can I achieve, out of turn, from my hallowed position … and not how did you achieve the hallowed position. In my weakest moments, I wished I was Keating… and knew that I am not.

It took a Cairo to revive Roark… resuscitate it … and the process was slow… initially I tried to save those greenbacks… I argued one of those can earn me 45 in India … money, initially, was more important than experience… for it would had bought me a car and some modicum of respect back home… well, strange but true.

However… my perception towards life started changing after meeting every Mariam, every Heidi, every Kaveh… life is so much more than ephemeral desires… suddenly, I wanted to meet people… an art that I had forgotten since my IIT days… when with a backpack, I used to wander in the Sahyadris… with a desire to sleep in desolate temples, eat whatever offered by poor folks of village. This wish took me to small villages of Egypt… to Syria… to Jordan… to West Bank and to Jerusalem… every step I took… changed me... revived the Roark within me… I forgot being Keating… though I knew, Keating is down, but not out.

And once I was back in Delhi… yes Keating raised its head… through same and different faces… faces that asked me- where was my car… this time I was more resolute… thanks to the life that I had already seen…

This blog, however, is not about this perpetual battle between a Keating and Roark. It is about how I tried to be Roark… once upon a time in a small place called Alang.

Alang is world’s largest Ship-Breaking yard… tucked in one corner of India… in the state of Gujarat and in the district of Bhavnagar

At that point of time, I was working in Jamnagar in soon-to-be largest Greenfield refinery of the world… somehow, among the multitudes of zombies inhabiting the place… I was one… my only two refuge was my friend Saurabh Agarwal… and my best friend, who lived in Allahabad and always a phone call and a letter away.

To escape the constraining atmosphere, I used to rush to Bombay, Diu and whatever places… whenever I could avail a few holidays. During one such escape I reached Somnath… the experience of which turned me into a spiritual being… in a sense. During another such escape, I reached the town of Bhavnagar… to see the Jain temples of Palitana.

It was there somebody told me about Alang… I had heard its name earlier too… but never knew its exact position… and now that I was very near to the place, there was no going back. No going back!!!!!!!

Alang is one of the most surreal spectacles one can ever dream to see, ever!!!! I have seen massive human endeavors- Reliance Jamnagar Complex, Dabhol Power Corporation… and believe me everything pales in comparison. Everything.

When I was seeing this humungous scenery… of ships everywhere… knocked, semi-knocked and about to be knocked- I was reminded of the Guy Francon’s Connecticut Granite Quarries, where Roark toiled for months… rather than “compromise his drawings, and his ideals, to the whims of his clients”. It is at this quarry, he met his lady love- inspiration, Dominique….

Something snapped in me… I wanted to enact Roark… in Alang. It was a sudden rush of passion… some unknown inspiration that beckoned me… I decided to stay back… caring two hoots about a waiting boss. I stayed there for two days… still making up my mind… And on one such day… I joined a gathering of few migrant Bihari laborers, one of whom was reciting Ramcharitmanas… and giving a lucid explanation of it all…

He was reciting the portion of the story, where Sugreev tells Hanuman about his powers (Hanuman was cursed to forget all his powers)… the elderly man then goes on to say… that there is no bigger malaise that to forget one’s own ability and live a listless life... when the gathering was over… I stayed back and told him my story… and my intention of staying back!!!

I remember his face and his empathetic smile… he said Saheb!!! You have the ability to think like this, you are special… don’t waste yourself either here or there… move ahead… there is so much to be changed in this world… and you can

Today, when I look back- I feel indebted to that man!!! For showing me the true path… I haven’t achieved big things… but yes made some difference in some lives… of those Indians, who were stranded in Lebanon during 2006 war, here in Afghanistan….

I will continue doing that… and moving towards a grand dream of mine… and if I am not able to make any difference… I would at least tell my dreams to my sons… who can, thereafter, take it over from me.

Amen!