Wednesday, August 30, 2006

CHHATTISGARH: MEGHA

Haribhoomi (28.8.06)

I am grateful to the People of Megha, a village in the Kurud Vidhan Sabha, for the love and affection they showered on me when I visited them this Sunday (27.8.06).

I had always wanted to visit this village on the banks of the Mahanadi, not merely because it is an important part of my father's constituency, but because of its pivotal contribution to our nation's Struggle for Freedom: Narayan Rao Meghawalé, Thanuram Bansaur, and of course Pandit Sunderlal Sharma- all came from here. In fact, Mr. Pradeep Choubey- one of the very few Lohiaites we have in the Congress here- tells me that the Father of the Nation, Mahatma Gandhi, himself once remarked that "I have learnt more about social equality from Pt. Sundarlal Sharma than from anybody else."

Under the present state regime, Congresspersons of Kurud are being systematically terrorized by their local MLA, who is also a minister. During this brief visit, numerous specific instances were brought to my notice. However, they have shown exemplary courage in facing the Terreur, thanks to their proud legacy of resisting oppression in whatever form it may exist.

Indeed, what better place than Megha to seek inspiration?


AJ

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

AN OBITUARY AND A PROTEST: Death of Ustad Bismillah Khan

Left:In Happier Times: The Ustad with this blogger's father

State mourning was declared on the day of noted shehnai-maestro Bharat Ratna Ustad Bismillah Khan’s demise; on the same day, the first Speaker of the Chhattisgarh Vidhan Sabha, Pandit Rajendra Prasad Shukla was cremated with full state honors. On this sad day, the organization of an official function followed by dinner at the Chief Minister’s Residence was not only inopportune and insensitive but also highly objectionable.

Ustad Bismillah Khan was the embodiment of ‘the Ganga-Jamuni culture’. He was a firm believer in the ideal of Hindu-Muslim Unity. Despite being a true Mussalman, he considered it an honor to play shehnai at the Kashi Vishvanath Temple at his hometown, Benares. Indeed his entire life and philosophy, which epitomized the essence of India’s rich and heterodox culture, went against the very fundamentals of the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and its parent-body, the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), which believe in turning brother against brother and religion against religion. Under the circumstances, the organization of a felicitation function and dinner at the Chief Minister’s Residence on the day of the Ustad’s demise under the auspices of this BJP state-government, yet again exposes its communal mentality.

After the formation of the state, the Ustad had very kindly consented to perform at the Chakradhari Cultural Festival at Raigarh on the invitation of the then state government. At the time, he recalled very fondly vivid details of his childhood days when he had traveled by bullock-cart from Sarangarh to Raigarh. The Ustad had deep relations with the soil of Chhattisgarh, and love and respect for its people and their rich and glorious heritage. It is most shameful that when the entire nation was mourning the loss of such a personality as his, the Chief Minister of the state he loved so immensely was busy presiding over a felicitation function and dinner organized at his own residence.

The organization of the aforesaid function and dinner, and the publicity given to it by the state Directorate of Public Relations (DPR), despite nationwide official mourning having been declared by the Government of India, is regrettable. It must be condemned. This incident is a living proof of the Fascist Objectives and Communal Character of the state BJP government.

The Chief Minister must personally apologize to the people of the state for this incident, in which he himself was present and presided.


AJ

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

BOOK REVIEW: George Perkovich’s India’s Nuclear Bomb


Note: This Paper was published by the School of International Studies Journal "Matrix" [Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi].


I. Introduction

The catharsis in Stanley Kubrick’s 1963 film noir classic Dr. Strangelove (Or: How I learned to stop worrying and love the Bomb) has a cowboy riding into the sunset on a nuclear missile warhead heading for a Soviet nuclear facility that will trigger off a doomsday device, in what would become one of the biggest visual spoofs on the deterrence doctrine (MAD) of the Cold War era. Does George Perkovich’s India’s Nuclear Bomb have a similar effect- demonisation of structural realism and a scandalous exposé on India’s mysterious nuclear folklore- on contemporary nuclear nonproliferation and unproliferation theory?

Bomb's Away!

Broadly speaking, Perkovich seems to operate at two levels: (a) at the level of research where he shatters some of the predominant ‘mythologies’ of India’s nuclear programme; and (b) at the level of international theory, derived from the former, where he develops a stark critique of Structural Realism, and to some extent, challenges the idea of the democratic peace. Yet, these ‘levels’ are not distinct: India’s nuclear bomb is a continuously evolving ‘dialogue’ between them. To understand Perkovich’s argument (in a broader context), I have followed a slightly unorthodox approach: first, I look at his arguments for India’s nuclearisation (in the form of the ‘dialogue’); and then, these arguments are abstracted (into two distinct levels, of research and its implication on theory), allowing for their critical deconstruction within the broader genealogical paradigm. Therefore, prior to analyzing both these aspects of his argument, it would be worthwhile to ‘cite’ its genealogy, which, as will be demonstrated subsequently, gives rise to certain very compelling questions in the form of paradoxes.
Read More (आगे और पढ़ें)......

SHOWCASE: (B) A REPERTOIRE OF SELF-PORTRAITS FROM BASTAR

A DIALOGUE OF THE EYES

This collection of photographs- performed self-portraits really- is the artwork of a 23-year-old self-proclaimed novice from Bastar. I present it here for a variety of reasons.

The most obvious is this: when we ‘think Bastar’, our minds are instinctively flooded by images of the Bison-horn Maria tribe doing their peacock mating-ritual dance, the stalactite-stalagmite formations at the Kutumsar cave, and the primordial goddess Dantesvari with eyes of gold; indeed, the close-circuit camera-like shot of a boy emerging out of a Levi’s changing-room after trying out a fresh pair of jeans is the last thing we think of. Not so anymore: the hitherto unconceivable possibility that Bastar boys might well end up studying at top engineering colleges of India’s cyber-capital, Bangalore, has metamorphosed to reality, albeit not as pervasive as one might wish. [see photo 1: Changing-room]
Photo 1: CHANGING ROOM

They return, like migratory birds, to rest and surf.
Read More (आगे और पढ़ें)......

Monday, August 21, 2006

OBITUARY: RAJENDRA PRASAD SHUKLA


AN ODE

Note: This obituary was published in the "Haribhoomi" newspaper (22.08.06)

Pt. Rajendra Prasad Shukla, the first Speaker of Chhattisgarh, was cremated this afternoon with full state honors. He was 77. I was to have called on him today, at the Apollo Hospital, with a pre-publication of my prison-poetry. Fate willed otherwise: that meeting, like so many others in my life, now belongs to an unrealized saga of aborted possibilities; instead I've just returned to Raipur after having attended his funeral.

Shukla 'uncle' came to visit Papa sometime before my arrest. His hair was white, like silk, and he could walk, only with the help of a trusted servant. I remember asking him why he didn't dye his hair anymore. That, I believe, was the last time I saw him. Again, during the time I was granted leave by the Supreme Court to visit Papa at the Escort Hospital, he was good enough to telephone me: in jest, he offered to fight my case, reminding me that he was an ace lawyer before he was chosen by Destiny to carry forward his uncle, Pt. Mathura Prasad Dube's political legacy. I told him that coincidentally, his compatriot from Madhya Pradesh- the veteran White Tiger of Rewa, Pt. Srinivas Tiwari, with whom he had fought a proxy-war for Amarkantak, the source of the Narmada- had also made a similar offer. I joked that both my lawyers would be more preoccupied with fighting over whether Amarkantak should be in Madhya Pradesh or come to Chhattisgarh- rather than in defending me!

However the image that will forever remain with me is this: him swinging on the white wrought iron hammock of the Speaker's House, as he interviewed the twelve defecting MLAs one by one before recognizing their merger with the Congress, to 'satisfy' himself that they weren't doing so under duress. At the time, I thought the exercise wholly unnecessary: after all, wasn't he a Congressman too? Now I see things differently. For him, the Constitution was more than a legal treatise: it is a hard-fought Victory, for which countless people had laid down their lives, and therefore, as sacred as the Ramayana , yet another epic that he had mastered and loved quoting from, in chaste Sanskrit.

His first duty was to his Office. He discharged it with a rare honesty and sincerity of purpose to the very end.

May God grant rest to his soul.

AJ

Saturday, August 19, 2006

SHOWCASE: (A) THE ART OF TUSHAR WAGHELA



To suggest that ‘an artist is constantly evolving’ is fallacy: in fact, more often than not they keep repeating themselves, and any attempt at reinvention is at best, painfully forced. Any transformation in the artist’s oeuvre, if it does occur- for example, the famous ‘moods’ in Picasso’s prolific repertoire- is assuredly cathartic: this, I believe, accords with the ‘theory of punctuated evolution’, which postulates that status-quo rather than change is Nature’s norm. A cursory glance at Tushar’s present Collection- eight large canvases and an even larger triptych (in the making, at the time of writing this)- in light of his earlier work, alludes not so much to ‘a significant evolution’, as this self-taught artist is wont to believe, as it does to a Rebirth: ergo, any reference to his artistic antecedents in presenting this Collection, becomes redundant. For me, the 30-year-old Bhilai-based Tushar Waghela is a just-Fallen Adam.

I present this Collection here, because in so many ways, the story of Tushar, the artist and his alter-ego, Adam is also the story of our state: Chhattisgarh.

ADAM'S STORY

PUSSYCAT CATCHER
To illustrate: notice, dear viewer, the acrylic on canvas cryptically called ‘Pussycat Catcher’. It’s Adam learning his alphabets, discovering Wittgenstein’s Tractatus, a world where language- the way we communicate- is composed almost entirely of pictures: how to catch a cat? Well, it’s not going to be as easy as our unsuspecting protagonist, blissfully turned-on by the book he is reading, imagines: two Egyptian-kittens lurk above, while a skull-and-crossed-bones insignia, used first by the pirates of yore, is neatly tucked away in a corner, hinting perhaps at impending dangers? The background, still dripping with paint, alludes to a world still in formation; incomplete; wet.

FURY
This theme becomes even more pronounced in his next work: Adam is still lying down, but he is no longer reading: the book- now used as a blinder to shield his eyes from a rapidly dissolving sky formed of bold, bloody curls which have come together to form an Angry God looking-down menacingly at him- too is different: it has the word FURY written on its cover. An explanation, however, is offered: the forbidden fruit symbolized as a once-bitten apple persists: Milton’s Paradise Lost suddenly finds its visual allegory in the contemporary Macintosh corporate-logo. It is both a reminder of a history riddled with the shame of banishment, and a precursor of the world to come: a Twilight World dangling between the past and the future; between Heidegger’s Being and Time. Here we evesdrop on Shakespeare's Hamlet muse: "To be or not to be/ That is the question."
Read More (आगे और पढ़ें)......

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Jail Diary: (C) On Independence Day: An Undertrial’s Thoughts

Jail Diary Entry of 15th August 2005
It has been a week since I turned 28: flowerbeds we planted a month ago alongside the two-feet wide pathway, which circumbulates this ‘high security complex’, are resplendent with riotous blossoms, the transience of which is not entirely lost on me. This forenoon, the recently appointed Minister (Home & Jail) has been invited to preside over some sort of a ‘cultural program’ at the Prisoners’ Club in the Old Octagon, where he is expected to distribute carpenter’s tool-kits and sewing machines to life-termers who have served out their fourteen-year sentences, and will be set free today. Visitors not being permitted on holidays, I expect to meet no one- Papa, Mummy, SNT et al- today, and perhaps also tomorrow.

Another week of waiting begins.
*
Possibly for the first time in my relatively short life, I begin to understand the fuller significance of Independence Day (ID), paradoxically while I’m locked-up in prison: it is not Pandit Nehru’s ‘tryst with destiny’ speech, with its beautiful metaphors and an unfortunate horological error (‘when the world sleeps, India awakes…’- as a matter of fact, more than half the world was wide awake), that comes to mind but a far more universal truth- episteme- articulated by the legendary South African cardiac surgeon, Dr Christian Barnard: recounting his experience with the first ever human heart transplant in history, he writes that ‘one who has not experienced darkness cannot see light.’ The plain truth is that up until forty-five days ago, I had taken my freedom for granted: it was a condition I was born into, and very frankly I knew of no other; the notion that it could as easily be taken away did not cross my mind, and in that sense at least Mr Sood (see entry of 13/8) is right: opposing my bail before the Hon’ble Chief Justice, the flamboyant lawyer proclaimed that I ‘exercised my freedom with impunity’. But I find it rather difficult to believe that a majority of my fellow citizens don’t, including Mr Sood himself. In fact, the phrase ‘freedom is my birth right’ implies a certain level of irrevocable impunity: that the exercise of freedom should necessarily be done without constraint, or fear of consequences. However the ‘exercise of freedom’ cannot be given to mean that one can take another’s freedom with impunity; to think that freedom as a right can be divorced from freedom as a duty defeats its very function. The question then is: at what point does Society acquire the right to take away a person’s freedom? The theoretical answer is clear: at the precise point when that person’s freedom becomes incompatible with its own. In praxis however, this clarity gets lost in the various interpretative traditions this question evokes.
Read More (आगे और पढ़ें)......

Saturday, August 05, 2006

NAXALISM: (G) SOS: FLOODS IN DANTEWADA (KONTA)


The flood situation in Konta shows no signs of improving: Kawasi Lakma, MLA- who left Raipur last afternoon aboard the state helicopter, 'Maina'- is grounded at Jagdalpur circuit house; the IAF aircraft arrived at Raipur from Allahabad last evening. A full aerial-assessment of the flood-situation will be possible only when the weather clears. All roads, including the national highway, are blocked due to floods. As a matter of fact, it has become impossible to even go beyond Kondagaon because of flooding of the Eeb river, a tributary of the Indravati. Consequently all supply-lines to the 17 SJ base-camps have become clogged: essential supplies are in short-supply, and if rations etc don't reach soon, there will be an outbreak of famine. As of now, more than 60,000 tribals are in these base-camps. Several villagers are reported to have been washed-away. For all facts and purposes, the region has become an island. It is extremely important that rations and other essential supplies be air-dropped today, and surface supply-lines restored. A much better option would be getting aid in from the Andhra-side, through Bhadrachalam and Vishakapatnam airport. This state administration, as of yesterday, lacked any coherent contingency plan to meet the situation. Things are bound to be worse in the so-called 'liberated' areas. This natural calamity combined with the already ongoing human tragedy makes for a catastrophe of unprecedented proportions.
AJ

Thursday, August 03, 2006

NOTICE: THREE CARCERAL PLAYS

Apart from "Interrogation", I wrote three other plays in jail. One of them entitled "Chal bé kapadé utar" runs into several pages. It is under production. The other two, "An Interview with the Whore" & "One-night stands", appear elsewhere.

Given the somewhat controversial nature of the latter two's content, it was felt that they be posted separately.

AJ

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CONTACT ME. मुझसे संपर्क करें

Amit Aishwarya Jogi
Anugrah, Civil Lines
Raipur- 492001
Chhattisgarh, INDIA
Telephone/ Fascimile: +91 771 4068703
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email: amitaishwaryajogi@gmail.com
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