Desicritics Category: Culture: Rituals

THE 'Q' FACTOR

Suresh Naig — Fri, 23 May 2008 08:58:27 EDT

THE 'Q' FACTOR

If you thought it is about Quttrochi, I am not to be blamed.

It is about the "Queue", which many a time we fail to follow, or get a kick in breaking it. Two years back, when I was returning from Thailand after a brief vacation, my co-passengers, many of whom were Indians, clamored on touching down at Chennai airport. Their impatience was highly pronounced, right from the touch down, which prevailed up to the taxi stand. All these passengers were at ease and disciplined, while boarding the plane at Bangkok airport. That set me thinking. Like the "QUEUE' my thought process was also long, with inevitable breaks and jumps.

During 80's, one of my friends from Mumbai, paid us a visit down south, after a long gap. While we were waiting for a bus to a small hill station, chaos reined supreme with no semblance of a queue or discipline. He compared the scene with Mumbai, where passengers waiting to board a bus, form a queue on their own, so that one can be sure about boarding a bus and their turn is predictable.

Two days later, when he wanted to travel to Palghat from Coimbatore he was surprised to see an orderly queue and every fourth minute there was a bus to Palghat from Coimbatore. While waiting for his turn, he told me, his inference about 'Q' psychology. A queue is formed when there is certainty and only when people fear uncertainty, chaos results. I brooded on his line of theory for a long time and was convinced of his rational inference. My faith in his theory was reinforced, when I read about the loss of lives in Chennai, when people went to a Scholl to collect their freebies as tsunami relief. When the rumours spread that the stocks were depleting fast and the promised allowance of Rs.2000/ per family would be exhausted in a few minutes, there was a great rush and competition, resulting in the loss of some precious lives.

For a long time I believed that, discipline and certainty are inseparable and only on the face of uncertainty the 'Queue' is broken. Suddenly the queue of my thought process was broken, when I remembered the stampede at Tirumala on a New Year day resulting in loss of lives. Was it because the people thought that, all pervading God's benevolent grace was in short supply?

Fishing For Wishes: A Fish Who God Listens To

Aditi Nadkarni — Thu, 15 May 2008 00:49:18 EDT

Red was an impulse buy. He was, really. My roommate and I were at a 24-hour supermarket late one night to buy a coffee maker on a lazy Saturday for lack of anything better to do. Go figure. And there he was, in a short plastic jar looking at me. It was fate. I do not just say this, mind you. In this post I have empirical evidence to back it up. The following narrative is based on true accounts.

I was never a fish lover. But these flashy fish with their dazzling colors immediately caught my eye from an aisle away. Only one of them actually made eye-contact even from that far. I walked over and picked up the jars carrying a Betta fish each, one by one scrutinizing the brilliant fins of all the other fish. They were all jumpy. As we later found out, most Siamese Fighter Fish are. But when I picked up Red's glass it was magical. He did not jump or twitch like the others had and instead continued to look at me very intently. The only time I saw Red display any spunk was when I set his jar back on the shelf and started to walk away. He swam to the periphery, blew a few bubbles and did a couple of quick and startlingly violent twirls that caught my attention. He was the only bright scarlet one among the bright collection of Betta fish. They all seemed ferocious and a little upset. This little guy however, appeared peaceful and mainly curious. When I picked up his jar again, he continued to stare, right into my eyes, even more intently than before. I made up my mind.

That night, my roommate and I went home with a very treasured polythene bag. Every time he moved inside the thin plastic, I felt a gentle twitch on my fingers. I've felt a baby's kick on one of my pregnant friend's belly before and this twitch reminded me of that heady sensation, of how gently and unexpectedly even the littlest of life makes its presence felt.

Usually a pretty rational person, I surprised my roommate considerably when I held Red's polythene bag to the glass window letting him catch a glimpse of the world outside our car as we headed home. When else would he get a chance to look around again, I wondered. It could've been a series of coincidences but we passed on our way home, a Red Roof Inn, a Red Lobster and the song "Red, Red Wine" by UB40 came on the radio. At home as we put our new member in a bowl and turned on the TV, the feisty Red Foreman from 'That Seventy's Show' appeared making one of his dry, sarcastic quips. My friend and I exchanged glances and we knew. This was meant to be. He was christened Red.

Inside his bowl Red discovered his surroundings like a baby discovers the world around him. He moved in and out of the plastic flora and stared in awe at the sandalwood Ganesha next to his bowl. He wolfed down the small pellets of Betta fish food we had bought for him and we warmed up the apartment so that our tropical fish would be at a comfy temperature.

One fine morning Red's presence turned into somewhat of an added excitement. My friend was interviewing for a job the next day for which her credentials weren't exactly ideal. I was in the midst of feeding Red as she sat on our sofa and told me how much she needed the job. I turned to Red and for no particular reason said "Red, do you hear how much she needs the job? You are going to have to talk to God about this and make sure she gets it, OK?".

My friend stared at me with narrowed eyes as if I were nuts.

"Just wait and see" I said with a wink. Lets face it, we all do weird stuff to give our friends the extra bit of confidence and luck that they need. I have sat and patiently cracked 25 fortune cookies at a restaurant amidst startled Chinese waiters for a friend desperately looking for signs about her relationship. So praying to a fish was not odd any more. The next day my friend graciously called me to tell me she had received the job. There were so many people with great credentials, she told me, but she was the one who landed the position.

"It must be Red. He is lucky!" she exclaimed, in her excitement crediting our fish with what was most likely her own skills and talent that paid off in the interview. But word quickly spread and the next day I had a few voice messages from a few people half-joking about Red's newfound ability and half-asking me to pray for them as well. I won't lie, following this, I too whispered my own wishes to Red and watched wide-eyed as they all materialized one by one. Even the weather dodged rain and storm forecasts at Red's behest, which almost never happens in Ohio.

Someone came over and asked me to pray to Red for their sick pet and later sent pictures of their doe-eyed, recovered dog. Yet another wanted their car to be fixed. There were quite a few people who wanted that one precious job offer to come their way. And one by one Red granted them their wishes. Stock market hopes, loan needs, even relationship longings were rewarded almost instantly when I brought them to Red's bowl and made a quick wish.

Now Red's kind of a celebrity fish. I have started to maintain a notepad to keep track of wish-requests. My parents in India ensured that I receive such requests across borders as well. Friends and family call in to request that a good word be put in with Red. Red's schedule is jam packed and he has not let anybody down thus far. Every single wish has been brought to fruition...except maybe the one I made for world peace which I now believe falls out of Red's capabilities and is only a term meant for beauty pageant speeches.

Recently a fishy fungal infection sent waves of panic among the Red Wishing Club. Prayers were offered. My parents made a visit to the Siddhivinayak Temple in Bombay and my roommate and I made several trips to PetSmart looking like troubled, anxious parents. Red fought the fungus and made a speedy recovery meeting wish-deadlines with ease.

Most importantly, Red has contributed significantly towards our social life. People now call or come over if only to pay our stellar fish a visit. Betta fish are social beings to begin with and Red is enjoying all the attention to say the least. Meanwhile, funnily enough, I feel like the mother of a prodigy who needs to make sure that her wonder of a child sleeps and eats well and doesn't get an inflated ego as he goes on using his genius to do world a greater good.

One morning, a friend rendered skeptical by a recent heartbreak, after hearing about Red told me in great length about how faith is nothing but a crutch and that such superstitions just make him suspicious.

"True" I agreed much to his surprise, "I can see why you are suspicious. After all, more than anything, Red has demonstrated that faith does seem to be fishy"

Note: Red is still accepting wish-applications :)

Putrid Pilgrimages in India

Shantanu Dutta — Tue, 13 May 2008 13:23:25 EDT

A doctor who has just started some charitable work in the island of Rameshwaram among Sri Lankan refugees has an experience to share. Hailing from Chennai, she was used to the thought of abandoning the comforts of city life and get used to the exigencies of rural life. But the one thing that greeted her as she crossed over into Rameswaram and that one thing which she was not prepared for was the over whelming stench of human excreta hovering all over the island.

Apart from the infrastructural issues of there not being any adequate sewage disposal on the island, she wondered aloud as to why a pilgrim centre of religious significance should be so dirty and why whether or not the official machinery did any thing or not, the basic piety of the people should have served as some kind of an incentive to keep the place clean. Going by the press reports, the problem in Rameswaram has been noticed and action asked for at least a year ago when A. Sellamuthu, Secretary for Housing and Monitoring Officer for the district, had directed the Rameswaram Municipal authorities to take urgent steps clean the island town. He had also noted that that “Rameswaram was an important pilgrim centre, which was attracting thousands of pilgrims and tourists daily. Hence, it had to be kept neat and clean always”

The question is worth asking as to why filth and squalor are so routinely associated with places of pilgrimages –except for the cash rich ones like the temples at Tirupati and Vaishno Devi and a few others and may be the Dargah at Ajmer. As for the rest, be it the shrine of a pir or a typical teerth sthan, the gathering of crowds for journeys of piety and pilgrimages are almost synonymous with dirt, disorder and chaos instead of harmony, serenity and order.

Remember the kanwarias who crowd up the roads every couple of months. Emerging from every little town and village that India has it would seem, they run through the land like locusts ravaging a field. Small time charities spring up to feed and shelter these hockey stick wielding pilgrims. During the time the season is on, these resting places are filled with leaf plates with flies buzzing, plastic and other waste lying around every where and ear splitting music of the crassest kind copied from the latest Bollywood hits but supposedly charmed to induce piety.

Or remember the Kumbh Melas, the largest gathering of humans on earth for any purpose, but not necessarily the most tranquil or peaceful. There are these akharas filled with opium soaked sadhus and their equally fanatic followers jostling for space and dominance. And oh yes, till modern times, the end of Kumbh Mela often sprouted cholera. The rather provocatively titled blog “The Shit of the Saints is Still Reeking” talks pointedly of the 2007 mela in Allahabad and quotes the Chief Medical Officer of Allahabad alluding to the threat of diarrheal diseases, typhoid, and hepatitis as a direct result of the trash and human waste.

The Incredible India Campaign has run several direct ads on the need to keep and preserve our heritage –from vandalism as well as other acts that might desecrate them in any way. But they have largely concentrated and talked about historical monuments. But considering that so much of our heritage is tied up with religion and religious places and yatras and pilgrimages, it might do well to also talk of keeping religious places and events clean and sanitized so that the memory of having visited them might remain pleasant memories and not stories of nightmares.

The Astrologer, Pushan and Other Marriage Tales

Sandhya Tenneti — Sat, 10 May 2008 01:17:04 EDT

The phone rang. I picked it up to hear the thundering voice of the South Indian Amma bellow “I got him!"

"Who?"

"The Astrologer from the Vinayaka temple, the one i was chasing for the past 2 months!"

I groaned. Oh no! Here we go again...

"He said you will definitely get married but...."

"But what?" I asked in spite of myself, berating myself idealistically after I realized that I had said that.

"You have done tremendous amount of negative karma in your previous lives and that is the reason why nothing is taking place right now!" I winced. The previous lives explanation for which you have no answer....I love those ones.

“Yes, a lot of negative karma!" I coughed. "Okaaaayyyy momeee...not a lot, just probably a little!"

"No, no, Sandhya. the astrologer said that you had done a lot. He is going to Shringeri now. When he comes back we will do a homam to eradicate your sins."

I shook my head. Astrology is now beginning to turn out like a recipe. Give the same recipe to a thousand women and they will all come up with different versions of the same dish. The same applies to astrologers. give them the same horoscope, and they all come up with different predictions. the number of predictions I had heard until now was just amazing.

"So amma...," I was still trying to sound non committal. "Did he say love or arranged marriage?" (For the newcomers, the count currently is 4 for love and 2 for arranged.)

“What is this, Sandhya!" the south Indian Amma cried exasperatedly " here I do not even know whether you will get married and you expect me to ask this question!"

"Anyways," she continued, in a slightly milder tone, "he said you will become very powerful after marriage"

Now what sort of prediction is that! As if I was running for political office! the word powerful conjured up images of me riding astride some animal, wielding a mace in my hand, fully armored, decimating all those in my way on a huge battlefield. (Amar Chitra Kathas! Where would my imagination be without them?)

“Are you listening to me?" the Amma bellowed again." "Yes" "Oh really? Then repeat what I just said!"

"You said that i would be riding on an animal, wielding a mace, fully armored, decimating all those who were in my way on this huge battlefield!"

Long silence.

Then the South Indian Amma does what she is used to doing in cases where she is confronted with her progeny's mental aberrations.

She ignored me.

“We will do the homam as soon as he comes back in July. He’s very powerful, so your negative karma will get eradicated and you can get married." She yelped happily at the thought of it all.

A little too happily, if you ask me.

That got my imagination working and you all know what happens when that happens :)

What could have I possibly done to accumulate negative karma?

In one of my previous existences, I pictured myself sitting behind some rusty iron desk, an inept, corrupt and arrogant Babu, in charge of the marriage registry:

“what only 1 witness?....you know the rules ...come tomorrow with another one."

"What only 2500k for a bribe? Do you know how the prices are nowadays? See these people, I say! Go, get some more money and come tomorrow"

"This driving license does not look genuine...i cannot see the age properly. What you youngsters - don't know how to get proper documents. Go get it notarized and come tomorrow."

"Why you come now? See the time ...in half an hour we will have lunch. How can I finish this work in 30 minutes? You kids must be reasonable. You think you are the only ones getting married? It’s not possible...come tomorrow."

I can just imagine all those couples slinking away frustrated, thinking to themselves “you bastard! This lifetime we can't do anything, you are already married but we will catch you the next lifetime, just you watch!"

And so here I am, the infamous and much hated marriage registrar babu reincarnated with leftover karma as the rabble rousing rebellious rabbit of this age!

until the busy pundit finds time to propitiate the souls of those couples frustrated by me, I shall languish in singledom, which incidentally has always suited me very, very well ! Maybe a bit too well, if you ask me!

Anyway, this got me thinking and I did a Google search to find out who was considered as the Indian god/goddess for marriage. The results threw up the formidable Parvati but everyone already knows about her and you know that the most popular one never interests me :) but Google never fails and soon enough it threw up someone whom I had never heard of in my life.

Pushan.

Yes, Pushan is considered, among other things (and you thought multitasking was an American phenomenon!), the god of marriage in Indian mythology. Well, primarily it seems the dude was the god of traveling, protector of cattle and so on, but he is also invoked during the marriage ceremonies. An ancient sun god, mostly associated with Indra, in Indian mythology he has been given the responsibility of giving away the bride and blessing her for her married life. He was the guide of the common people, taking them to richer pastures and the giver of wealth. He was also given the task of ferrying the souls of the dead to the afterlife.

Basically, the dude did everything. They must have been having a shortage of gods back in his time.

What amazed me was that no one had ever had heard of this guy but in every marriage ceremony in India, his name is invoked!

This is why you should ask the priest what the hell he is mumbling at super fast speed during all the rituals.

But when you think about it, it all makes sense. Life is a journey dotted with fertile pastures and not so fertile pastures and it is very easy for human beings in the course of their travels to get lost. In this long journey, the biggest path that one has to travel upon is the path of marriage.

Pushan, the lord of paths, was the much needed friend of humans, the one vested with the power of nourishing their lives. The Google searches revealed hymns asking Pushan to bless the native with love and successful conjugal relations - essential for a happy, prosperous journey in life.

Alas, Pushan was lost in obscurity as time passed on. Until our very own ferreting fish stumbled upon him :)

i was thrilled. This blogging stuff is really bringing forth people and concepts that I have not heard before. For a GK fanatic like me, I felt like a kid in a candy store!

This brings me to that lot of people who did not have the beneficial presence of Pushan in their lives. Dowry deaths in India were estimated to be 7618 in 2006 (this is the "official" figure). According to India's National Crime Record Bureau, a dowry death is reported every 77 minutes in India. The influx of prosperity has not brought about any change in the mindset, in fact it has had made matters worse. People want all the symbols of success now - the expensive cars, clothes, the reception in the five star hotels and so on. The girl just has to bring all of this - dowry demands have now shot up. This culture of materialism has made the ill of dowry even more prominent.

Who would want a girl if she causes so much of pain? In a way, its good I guess. You never know the importance of something until you lose it. Let there be a shortage of women for a generation, then maybe this riches-obsessed society who have always considered women to be second class citizens will then understand. Who knows? What has not happened in centuries, what is the guarantee it will happen now?

According to the NCRB, Andhra Pradesh topped the list among the states for crimes against women, accounting for 13% of all cases reported in 2006. Also the state topped the list when it came to cases of torture meted out to women by their in laws and their husbands-14.5% of all cases.

Why am I not surprised?

My mother used to always tell us about the culture that existed in AP but no one in my family listened to her. In the last couple of years I have realized that all what she had said was not nonsense - some of it was very, very true.

By mistake, the marriage bureau sent my mother profiles of women. In them, blatantly along with age, qualifications, height and so on, property of the family was mentioned (they actually have such categories!) and in that category, all the profiles had expressly mentioned - for e.g., total family property x crore, girl's share 80 lakhs.

This was in a public marriage bureau and all the profiles mentioned the amount the girl would give. What’s the point of an act, rules, laws an so on? We have seen cases where those who are responsible for implementing the laws are the ones who take the most dowry. My mother was shocked. She said it was almost like an act of god telling her, Lakshmi, don't worry. This is the reason why your daughter is not getting married.

I was taken aback by the blatancy of it all. Wow! It’s out in the open. The law has no value whatsoever!

Funnily enough, Renuka Choudhary, the Union Minister for women and child development is also from Andhra Pradesh.

I don't see this trend going anywhere. one more generation (at least!) has to suffer this great evil.

In these times, I have great respect for my dad who almost 30 odd years ago refused to take dowry. Because he was the eldest, he set a precedent - no one in the Tenneti family ever took dowry after that. I also respect my grandfather. He could have told my dad to shut up and obey his elders, it was a common practice and he would lose face among his peers but my dad said no just once and my Granddad bowed down to his wishes without any fight whatsoever. He respected his son's wishes when he could have so easily overridden them. For a young man like my father - he was an idealist who led by example. I am proud of both of them.

I do not know if I can change society but I know one thing for sure - I can control what is in my hands.

I too will lead by example.

And if more of us do that, then one day India will become a place where women from all walks of life (not just women in urban India) are able to hold their head high and without fear.

And as we embark upon this journey may Pushan guide us all in reaching our desired destination.

Organ Donation - Harvesting Spare Parts

Shantanu Dutta — Thu, 8 May 2008 13:40:21 EDT

Many years ago, there used to be a minister in West Bengal Chief Minister Jyoti Basu’s cabinet by the name of Benoy Choudhury. He used to be the deputy chief minister at one point and was responsible for all the land reforms carried out in the early years of the Left Front government. An austere, honest and humble man in life, he stayed that way in death. When he died, there was neither cremation nor burial - he had donated his remains to the government medical college so that students might learn some anatomy by dissecting up his body.

Recently, A.K.Antony set another sort of precedent when he donated his organs as did celebrities Priyanka Chopra and cricketer Navjot Singh Sidhu. Preity Zinta has done this even earlier. This is great. For just as it is desirable to avoid ostentatious ness in the happier moments of life, so too in moments of grief – especially when there is a lot that could be done with our bodies even after we have passed on. As Priyanka Chopra put it quite well, in a symbolic sense, donating your organs enables you to live for ever.

But while such romantic notions of eternity are fine; there is a case to revisit the entire gamut of organ donation in the country. For on one side, there is a scarcity of vital organs so much so that there is a thriving black market in them and on the other side, every such organs are being consigned to the flames or buried six feet under.

As Scott Carney writes in Wired magazine,

“Scarcity has long been a key driver of the global kidney market, but in regions like India, Brazil, Pakistan and China, sellers are dealing with signs of a surplus. Operations that once set back patients tens of thousands of dollars on the black market can now be had for a fraction of the cost in some places.” and body brokers are now connecting wealthy patients with healthy but poor people willing to sell their organs for cash. The international market for human parts is thriving: A kidney goes for $25,000 in Russia, a heart for $290,000 in South Africa

In organ donation, the main taboos seem to be religious and here it does not seem to make much of a difference as to which religion one belongs to. But the taboos are clearly relative. The large numbers of donors who are poor and living on the edge who are selling of their organs for a pittance clearly are prepared to sell to survive another day. The presence of affluent doctors like Amit Kumar acting as racketeers and brokers proves that religious taboos are not too binding at the rich end of society either.

Not too long ago, blood donation was handicapped by similar taboos and myths. Now while it may be a little premature to claim that all the taboos have gone away, it goes without saying that we have come a long way indeed. Though fringes of commercialism still persist in the form of the “professional blood donors”, the voluntary blood donor movement – aided by strong social backing and helpful legislation has grown. Perhaps, we need to go the same route for harvesting our organs and who knows the large catchments of voluntary blood donors who already know what it means to gift life through donating blood may become the bulwark of another movement – those who donate blood in life…. And their body parts in death…

The Marriage of Technology and Religion

Deepa Krishnan — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 13:58:35 EDT

Have you noticed how neatly religion is wedded to technology in India? Like hot water and noodles, we've cleverly mixed the two to serve up God in an instant.

Take this advert for cell phone ringtones in the Hindustan Times this morning. "Devotional Special", it says, in a font that is inspired by the Sanskrit Devnagiri script. You can download mantras and chants on your cell phone for under 20 rupees, and when someone calls you, you can play them a little piece of the mantra. In the process, you dispense instant punya across the telecom network.

In addition to dispensing punya to people who call you, you can also earn punya for yourself. How? For 5 rupees, just download a religious wall paper as the background for your cell phone. The payoff? It lights up every time someone calls you, giving you small doses of darshan throughout the day. There's even a cartoon wall paper version of Lord Ram and his wife, for the young at heart. Or maybe it is meant for kids, to give them an early start in the lifelong process of acquiring merit.

I tell you, the gods must be pretty pleased with how well technology is working for them. And going by the number of prayers and chants I hear on people's phones these days, I'm sure the telecom companies are happy too.

But it's not just the mobile phone companies that have understood the marriage of technology and religion. Here's an advert on a popular website for online pujas. For $25 paid online, a priest will conduct a full-fledged puja on your behalf. All kinds of prayers and rituals are available, but what looks most popular is this one, a prayer to Kali that neutralizes any potential scheming enemies.

Astrologers have gone online as well. The simple road-side jyotish now has competition from "Ask Pandit" services, where for a fee paid online, you get horoscope consultation and religious advice via email. Advice is provided on everything under the sun, ranging from marriage, career, infertility and education. It is a tiered price structure, starting at $2 for a basic reading, and progressively becoming more expensive as you ask for more specific information. Oh and there's a shopping cart, where you can pay by credit card.

The big temples have understood technology too. The richest, Tirupati in Andhra Pradesh, offers e-Darshan, a facility where you can buy tokens online so you don't have to queue up to see the Lord. The Tirupati website proudly explains that they're now using biometrics to regulate entry at the temple gates. Tirupati also has branded their other offerings - they have e-Seva, e-Hundi, e-Donation and e-Sales (whatever that is!). The website is a smoothly functioning e-Commerce centre, where you can engage with the Lord from the comfort of your home.

But if you really want to see technology working hand-in-hand with religion, you should go see Akshardham in Delhi. It's a sort of cross between a hi-tech Disneyland and a traditional temple. There is a boat ride though an artificial tunnel, a yagna-kund that is also a synchronised colourful fountain, an "audio-animatronics" show, and a giant movie screen that shows a special movie filmed in over 100 locations in India, with a cast of 45000 people.

Akshardham has welcomed technology, dreamt large dreams in technicolour using technology, and moulded technology with a confident hand to fit the special needs of its faithful. The scale and drama of Akshardham make me wish it were a metaphor for modern India - eager to accept new learning, but at the same time, vibrant and self-confident enough to convert it into something uniquely Indian. Do you think that will happen?

In any case, to me it looks like Technology is quite permanently wedded to Religion in India, and this is going to be a long and fruitful marriage. All I can say is - Jiyo mere dulha dulhan. May you prosper and produce interesting offspring!

A Goddess for Summer

Deepa Krishnan — Wed, 23 Apr 2008 13:14:57 EDT

The fierce April heat brings with it rashes, skin diseases and the dreaded pox.

Before it was eradicated in India, smallpox was one of the most feared diseases of summer. Chicken pox is still a big worry for Indian parents. Many communities believe it is the wrath of the Goddess Mariamman that brings on these diseases, and that she must be propitiated to ward off the pox.

In Mumbai, a small community from Andhra Pradesh worships the Goddess Mariamman every summer, seeking protection from smallpox, chickenpox and all forms of disease. My housemaid is from Andhra Pradesh, so I went with her to see the annual Mariamman ceremony. Mum came along, of course, to find out what it was all about.

The first thing we saw (heard) were the drums. Three men came walking from a little lane, and posed for me.

Then the women emerged from several lanes, carrying offerings for the goddess. Their bowls had a sort of thin gruel, made from ragi and buttermilk, and flavoured with chillies. Ragi, or finger millet came to India 4000 years ago from Ethiopia. It is now a staple part of the local diet.

There were neem leaves in the ragi gruel. Neem has medicinal properties and is used all over the country as a cure for chickenpox.

Several children and young girls wore skirts of neem, as protection from the pox.

A temporary tent had been erected, where everyone gathered with their offerings.

Inside the tent, there was a little shrine. In the villages of South India, there's a distinctly different looking Mariamman. But this is Bombay! There is no consecrated idol of the goddess here, so a popular representation of Durga was housed inside the tent, with the customary trident.

Mariamman is said to be a proto-Dravidian goddess, not a part of mainstream Vaishnavism or Saivisam. But as usual, both Saivaites and Vaishnavites have appropriated her, because she has such a large following.

To get things going, there was a dance. Two male performers had come from a little village in Andhra Pradesh. They were not just dancers; they were more like shamans, intermediaries between the Goddess and the rest. They said a little prayer and tied anklets on their feet.

The dancing lasted a short while, but it was energetic and graceful.

After the dancing, there was a brief prayer ritual. An elder from the community performed the arati. The prayers to Mariamman are "non-agama" i.e. not from the sacred Vedic texts. Brahmins do not conduct prayers to this Goddess, except in a couple of very large Mariamman temples in Tamil Nadu, where the worship has morphed into a fully agamic tradition.

After the prayer, a desi fowl was offered as sacrifice to please the Goddess and ask her protection. As the sacrifice happened, the drums and trumpets rose to a crescendo. Quite a spectacle.

I clicked the obligatory gory picture.

This pot would be taken around the city after the sacrifice. It was filled with water, turmeric and neem leaves, and decorated with turmeric, red sindoor, neem, lemon and flowers. In Bombay, this vessel goes to various Tamil and Andhra localities in Dharavi.

The ragi gruel was then served to everyone as prasadam. It was delicious and cool, by the way. There were a couple of neem leaves in mine, bitter as expected. I ate them, mindful of all the medicinal properties neem has.

The customary group photo at the end of the day! This is a section of women from my maid's community. The one on the left, with the orange and red saree is Vasantha, who lives with us, and makes the best khichdi-kadi on the planet. Without her, I would never have known or participated in this amazing spectacle.

Pope Benedict XVI Visits America

Blokesablogin — Mon, 21 Apr 2008 09:26:53 EDT

The Dish Network finally hooked us in with a real cheap offer. That would explain how I got caught watching CNN (for news) on a Sunday morning, with a live telecast of the Pope's visit to the United States.

Evidently it has been an exciting week for all Christendom (according to CNN) with the new pope hopping over the Big Blue to speak at the United Nations, releasing sex-abused Catholics from their sad memories, praying at Ground Zero, and the grand finale being a mass "mass" at Yankees Stadium, NY.

My husband was wondering why I was wasting my time watching this live telecast about a man who believed in conversions. My son asked if he was a good man or not. I said that he was a good man but ignorant. That shut them up a bit for me to continue with my television viewing.

Seeing a 60,000 strong crowd, committed to their faith was an inspiring sight. The rich ritualistic aspects of the Catholic church has always held a greater visual appeal than the informal Protestant kind to me. The crowd swelling into song in a call and response fashion is another thing I like about their music. The stray thought of how church liturgical music has come to define western music could not be ignored.

The arrangements made to give Holy communion to all those 60,000 plus people present was impressive to say the least. The entire program was bilingual in English and Spanish, spotlighting the Latino immigration that has resurrected the Catholic church in the United States of America. It will not be too long when papal visits become multilingual, including languages like Chinese and Hindi. Not too long ago, when the search for the pope was under way, the Archbishop from Mumbai was considered to be a strong contender for the post.

Evidently, the pope had a meeting with people from other religious denominations. That group included Muslims, Hindus, Jains and Buddhists. I hope that those groups educated the pope on why conversions are not a good idea in a pluralistic world united through a global economy.

The Angry American Generation

Dr Bhaskar Dasgupta — Sun, 20 Apr 2008 05:00:58 EDT

Have you heard about the greatest generation? This is the generation which was born around the early part of the 20th century and fought in the Second World War. These are the people who fought because it was the right thing to do and went on after the war to build one the most prosperous societies known to mankind. The next big war, Vietnam War, produced what I would call as the bewildered generation. Between drugs, peace, liberalism, a whole generation was lost to society but just when life was settling down, 9/11 happened. It is too early to say but between 9/11, Afghanistan, the Bush Administration and Iraq, a new generation is forming which will define America for the next thirty years at the least. I call it the angry generation.

Surprised? Well, yes, so was I when I read the book We were One by Patrick K O’Donnell. This is a fascinating book about the Marines of the 1st Platoon, Lima Company, Third Battalion, First Marine Regiment and its operations in Falluja primarily over a period of few weeks in November / December 2004. The book ends with the following sentences which I am taking the liberty to quote. “The individuals I met in Iraq, especially in the Marines of 1st Platoon, showed me clearly that they truly do constitute the next Greatest Generation. Make no mistake about it; America’s best is in Iraq. After surviving the battle, I made an oath, a blood oath, that I would tell their story”. Quite an emphatic statement, no? But I am moving too far ahead as usual.

My first introduction to the Greatest Generation was predictably via a book. It was a fiction book, by Leon Uris, called Battle Cry. This was the story of a bunch of volunteer Marines, who had enlisted in the United States Marine Corps and fought across a variety of islands in the Pacific. The book is also about their loves and hates, their lives and deaths. It is a brilliant book and I have read and re-read that book a zillion times. Then I read about the economics, history, sociology, science, education etc. of post war America and then I slowly understood what the term “Greatest Generation” meant. It is difficult to explain, perhaps more of a term to be felt. These marines were in the Marine Corps for years on end and therefore formed a bond between themselves, inside the Corps and most importantly, with society that was crucial to them being great.

If somebody has to explain it, then it will never work, but perhaps one has to empathise to feel what this term means. Walk around one of the great American cities and observe the tall confident buildings, travel the highways and witness those ribbons of concrete wrapping the country, observe the factories and witness the bodies at work, walk into a campus and see the minds at play. All these were due to the Greatest Generation. This is a broad generalisation, but I do hope you understand what I mean. War, in this case, brought the country together and gave rise to the Greatest Generation.

But the Vietnam War tore a hole in the fabric of American society. Between the late 1960’s to 1970’s, cold war, hippie culture, drugs, the Vietnam War, Richard Nixon and the 1973 oil shock, the country seemed to emerge a bit confused and a bit bewildered. The American Army was in literal shock, society was a bit disorientated as well, and that is why I call the generation which lived through and participated in the Vietnam War as the bewildered generation. Individuality was celebrated, societal thinking was out, under-classes started to develop, corruption flourished, the legal system started to jam slightly, the political class started to stink a bit more, and the economy was creaking under the oil shock. The generation did not know what to do because the old certainties had gone away, the economic levers did not work, unemployment had risen, insecurity was high, politics was dirty, society as a construct was weakening, divorce rates were rising and so on and so forth. People were bewildered, they did not know what to do or how to react. That’s why I (again, a very broad generalisation here) call them as the bewildered generation.

It took the late 80’s and 90’s to get going again. The fall of the Berlin Wall and end of the cold war, the peace dividend, the rise of the internet and the computer, globalisation, Ronald Reagan to Bill Clinton all meant that there was a buzz around the country, things were starting to happen again. There was hope for the future and people walked around with a spring in the step, a song on the lips and a smile on the face.

It took 9/11 to shock America. I think almost everybody across the world who was an adult on that day remembers the shock and horror as the twin towers collapsed. As somebody said, America lost its innocence that day and I add, anger was born. I am sure you would have read about how USA waged war against Al Qaeda in Afghanistan. And till then, the world was with USA, but the Iraq war drove a coach and horses through the international support for USA. But what happened to the common American? Not the Americans who are in big city New York or Washington, but in the small town America which Senator Obama calls as “bitter”. These people, to paraphrase his words, “cling to guns and religion" as a result of economic uncertainty. The people that Alexis de Tocqueville believed were the bedrock of democracy in America.

This is where O’Donnell’s book comes in. It talks about a platoon of Marines who go through house by house, clearing out the whole stinking nest of Jihadis / insurgents in Fallujah. The author actually accompanied the platoon through the operation, had bullets whizzing past his ears and stepped into blood shed by dead Marines. He is one of the very rare breeds of historians, called as combat historians. This is as opposed to the embedded journalists who live in relative comfort and safety. He sat by while RPG’s blew up doors and rockets exploded houses. He witnessed drug addled Jihadis who would simply not die despite being literally peppered with bullets. He witnessed men who relied on each other and fought for each other, the platoon, the Corps and for their country. You might be thinking, but Iraq was an illegal war and Bush is not liked etc. etc. But that has nothing to do with these Marines whose job was to go from house to house, clearing them out.

For those who might know, house to house fighting is the most expensive and most grinding of all types of fighting. All the advantages are with the defender and almost none with the attacker. Presence of civilians means that the attackers are fighting from the beginning with one arm tied behind their backs. In other words, the probability of death or injury is very high and this is the important bit, they know it. But despite this, they keep on waking up each day and fighting. O’Donnell talks about how they feel, what they talk about, what makes them cringe and what makes them laugh. Why they started to smoke and how they dealt with the calls back home. And underlying this entire book was the constant reminder of 9/11 and how that drove each and every Marine. It was the shattering of the hope and innocence which gave rise to the Angry Generation. So what happened to this platoon? It took very heavy casualties, was shattered totally after the battle, went back to a hero’s welcome, but every grunt came back for his next tour of duty.

And this is where I step out in the future and make a guess-estimate of what this angry generation will do to USA and the world. Well, for one, I think USA will become more insular and isolationist, but at the same time it will be more unilateralist than it has been historically (George Bush’s presidency was a blip). That anger will make it take steps which it will not let the world influence. That anger will make USA become more protectionist in its treatment of the outside world. It will become more and not less religious and it will definitely become more conservative.

And believe you me, there is no point in telling this angry generation that it is wrong or USA is wrong in its foreign policy or what have you. It does NOT matter to the common American, those Americans for example who are in the Marines. This is not a polemic but my firmly held belief that the people we are going to be faced with in America are mostly going to be people like these Marines. If one has to frame public policy or try to understand America, it should know these people. The fact that they are backed by an immense country with huge assets, people, technology, universities, economies, companies, is almost incidental but not unimportant. But at end of the day, it is the man. I firmly believe that the American in the making is in the Angry Generation.

All this to be taken with a grain of salt!

Technorati Tags: USA,World War II,Greatest Generation,Iraq

Book Review: A Lesson Before Dying by Ernest J. Gaines

Shantanu Dutta — Wed, 2 Apr 2008 12:55:01 EDT

“A Lesson Before Dying” has the overtones of the modern classic “To Kill A Mockingbird” with its storyline based on racism and the undercurrents of bravery of a few in the midst of the hatred of many. The book is set in a small Cajun community of Louisiana of the late 1940s and the principal characters are a hapless black by the name of Jefferson, who is sentenced to death for a crime he did not commit, Grant Wiggins, the only man in his community who has been to university and has now returned to teach in the local school an Jefferson’s aunt universally known as Miss Emma. Hovering in the shadows is the local pastor Rev.Ambrose.

The central theme is that Jefferson has not just been sentenced to death but that the White people in the town have also stripped him of his human dignity by referring to him as a “hog”. His aunt is determined that though the death sentence cannot be evaded, Jefferson will go to the electric chair looking the world in the eye as a man and not like a shivering pig. The man tasked to bring about this transformation is Grant Wiggins the teacher, a man who do not believe in God and the keen onlooker is Rev. Ambrose, a man not to educated but deeply caring of his congregation and who does not believe that such a transformation can be brought about with the active participation of God.

The rest of the book is devoted to how Wiggins and also the pastor in their way try and reach out to Jefferson, who has retreated within his shell. It has some memorable lines like “It was the kind of “here” that asked the question, when will all this end ? When will a man not have to struggle to have money to get what he needs “ her”’?when will a man be able to live without having to kill another man”here” ?

Or read through this dialogue where the pastor defends himself an what he does to Wiggins, the rationalist, who does not believe in any thing that the pastor believes in - “ ‘Cause reading, wring and rithmetic is not enough….. You think that is all they sent you to school for ? They sent you to school to relieve pain, to relieve hurt- and if you have to lie to do it, then you lie. At wakes, funerals, and weddings , I lie. I lie at wakes and funerals to relieve pain…. And that’s the difference between me and you, my boy.. that makes me the educated one and you the Gump. I know my people. I know what they have gone through……”

The multi-layered book asks several questions – the chief being that what is the purpose of education if it does not serve a transformational and redemptive purpose and if it is only the mechanical accumulation of knowledge. In fact, in the book Gaines draws analogies between Jefferson and Jesus. One of the first questions Jefferson asks his tutor concerns the significance of Christmas: "That's when He was born, or that's when He died?" Jefferson is executed eight days after Easter. The process of transforming Jefferson transforms Grant Wiggins too and he admits at the end of the book that Rev. Ambrose "is braver than I," and he has his pupils pray in the hours before Jefferson's death.

This is one of those books that deserve to be read at least twice. The first reading should be for the historical background and the pure story. The second time should be for seeing the true value of the story.