Audi Alteram Partem Issue 10 | May 2016 by AAP NLUD

Issue 10

Cover Art: Shambhavi Singh

A Note from the Vice-Chancellor It gives me immense pleasure to see another batch of fledgling lawyers at the threshold of foraying into this world full of possibilities. These students have excelled at personal and professional growth and set commendable academic and co-curricular standards. We have in Ms. Rishika Sehgal our first Rhodes scholar. Students from the graduating batch have also secured admissions at some of the most prestigious universities of the world and have received job offers from the biggest names in the legal industry. I am proud at how a relatively young institution National Law University, Delhi has left no stone unturned in achieving excellence in all sectors. Along with the third edition of our very own cultural fest, a new feather to our cap this year is the maiden edition of our Sports Fest: Zafir. It is heartening to see such diversity in the range of activities we engage with as it promotes our growth in multifarious spheres. It is also a delight to see how Audi Alteram Partem has been the voice of college issues, expressing balanced debates over issues that concern us over the campus and beyond. It is also our very own medium of creative expression. I would like to congratulate our students for doing a commendable job at continuing this tradition.

Prof. (Dr.) Ranbir Singh

EDITORâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S NOTE We are incredibly pleased to present to you the tenth issue of Audi Alteram Partem. For many of us, this is the last time we are writing to you as editors. Having founded the magazine at NLUD three years ago, we begin to feel an undertow of wistfulness. We are reminded of the multiple ways in which this college has evolved. For one, there is a definite expansion of freedoms on our campus. While many may disagree, we would grant that relatively we are freer. We are not just students of law; we are also defenders of liberty. It is only positive for us to continue striving for more liberty for everyone. However, while we closely guard our individual liberty we tend to lead very sequestered lives. We do not endeavour to associate, collect or collaborate. We are happy in our self absorbed, cocooned existence. We do not realize that there is such profusion of valuable human resource on campus â&#x20AC;&#x201C; people who have so much to share, so much to teach and learn, so many stories to tell and so much to do. You might be interested to know that there are about 124750 handshakes possible between the members of this college on a given day. A more tightly knit community could well enervate the very brick and mortar of this institution. There certainly has been some spectacular collectivism on our campus, but given the wide diversity of people, the range of narratives can be far more diverse. College is one of the most important truths of life; we should make the most of it. Audi Alteram Partem was one such initiative, born out of the desire of a few students seeking to further the literary tradition. In this issue, we have tried to feature articles covering the arts. We of course have opinion pieces on matters related to the campus. We would encourage you to send in your responses and help us in making this exercise more fruitful. We hope you enjoy turning the pages. Happy Reading!

LETTER TO THE EDITORS I just went through AAP and wanted to congratulate you. Great issue! - Akshat Agarwal, III Year

Really good design this time. - Anindhya Shrivastava, V Year

CONTENTS World………………………………1 Revisiting History…………….…..5 NLUD Talk………….………….…10 Sports…………………………….24 Raconteur……………..………..28 Film and TV……………………..37 Literature………………………..39 Music…………………………….43 Food……………………………..44 Art and Ideas…………………..45 Travel…………………………….51

WORLD

Staying at Defcon 5 Divyam Nandrajog The increasing Chinese influence in the Indian Ocean imperils Indo-China relations. The article discusses potential strategies that India should adopt. A convoy of oil flows from the Straits of Hormuz all the way to Malacca. For nearly 90% of its journey, its safety is ensured by the very Navy which might one day conceivably pose a threat to it. This Malacca Dilemma has worried Chinese strategic thought for many years – that the Indian Navy commands the sea lane of communication across which 84% (and 66% by 2030) of Chinese energy supplies come in from. Consequently, the PLA-N has deployed its own warships (its 20th naval task force vessel arrived in the Gulf of Aden last April). Any alteration in the balance of power always fuels conflict. Disregarding the Indian unhappiness with these deployments, there is very little India can do to stop them. Quite frankly, it doesn't even have to. An Indian Monroe Doctrine (that a foreign power should not enter India’s desired “region of influence”) is not the way forward. The status of a military force, in any Great Power engagement, is to present a competent threat, not carry it out. This threat requires the existence of considerable offensive expeditionary capabilities which is what India really needs to invest in. It will be in the laying down of a Sound Surveillance System across

the Malacca Straits to monitor the movement of Chinese warships and submarines. It will be in basing frontline squadrons at the tri-services command in Port Blair. It will be in constructing and operating airbases in the Lakshadweep archipelago and it will be in upgrading the submarine fleet which can be used for both covert surveillance and offensive action. The creation of the tri-services Andaman and Nicobar Command and the acquisition of the P-8I Poseidon aircraft were steps in the right direction. The diplomatic part of this tango will be a more intricate operation. On the one hand, intensive diplomacy will be required to stall and, if possible, reverse the string of pearls (Gwadar in Pakistan, Hambantota in Sri Lanka, Sittwe in M ya n m a r a n d C h i t t a g o n g i n Bangladesh which will be followed by Mombasa, Dar-es-Salam and Bagamoyo in Africa as part of the Maritime Silk Rout and 18 “Overseas Strategic Support Bases” have been hinted at). All of this will have to be preceded by a change in Indian strategic thought wherein it will have to shed its aloof approach and become a “net provider of security” in the region. For this, it will naturally have to engage with the littoral countries in the Indian Ocean and account for their security needs because only after doing this will it have truly accounted for its own. Lastly, India has to avoid the trap and talk of the anti-access and area-denial strategies deployed by countries in the South China Sea and accept the fact that a Great Power is interested in the Indian Ocean region; an acceptance which only requires it to look out for its own interests and not necessarily harm the other’s.

WORLD

An Open Letter From A Syrian Refugee Dear whom it may concern, My name is Nadia. I am a Syrian refugee currently residing in France with my family. I apologize for my alias, perhaps it makes me seem less credible, but I assure you that for reasons of safety, paranoia, and anxiety –there was no other way to share my story with you. My family and I moved from Syria to Saint-Denis, Paris in hopes of starting a new life –a better life. We went to dangerous lengths to leave our horrors behind in Syria and to seek asylum in France. The journey across the Mediterranean Sea was our last resort and our most desperate attempt to escape from hell. It was either death by ISIS or death by the sea and when it boiled down to those two options –the choice was easy. It had only been two years since we’ve moved but Saint-Denis was our safe haven and home now, (or should I say it was for a little while anyway). Despite escaping from Syria, we still actively try to rid ourselves of the gruesome, scarring images of bloodshed, chaos, and violence in order to move forward and lead normal lives in France. I worry the most about my children and their ghastly experiences in Syria; they lost their innocence at such a young age. It saddens me deeply to see the dark circles under their eyes and their petrified faces every morning. The nightmares never stopped for any of us, even after we escaped. I hope you understand my desperation to keep them safe and to raise them in a normal, healthy environment with economic, social, and political comfort. My husband and I made the conscious decision to live in Saint-Denis, a suburb located in northern Paris, as it offers a variety of schooling options for concerned parents. On the morning of the 13th of November, I wake up to my 5:00 a.m. alarm indicating that it was time to begin the start of my day; a much-desired Friday. I turn over to glance at the peaceful sight of my husband snoring softly before slipping out of bed and walking quietly to the bathroom. I instinctively turn the light on and look at myself in the mirror for a minute, as it was the only time of the day that I could focus all my attention on myself. I began brushing my teeth, washing my face and hands before wearing my hijab and settling down to pray. My husband, Hasan, and two spirited children, Omar (8) and Zaara (10) followed me shortly before becoming busy with their morning routines. The morning of the 13th of November was not any different from the rest of our mornings. The kitchen was encompassed with the sound of the coffee machine brewing coffee; the children bickering at the breakfast table; and the slow sizzling sound of pancake mix being poured onto a pan on top of the stove. My husband and I work long hours in order to provide for our children. Hasan is currently working in the taxi service industry as a driver in the city. I, on the other hand, am an assistant to a baker in a nearby bakery. I walked the children to their school before walking on to the bakery, while my husband immediately drove off towards the city. The day passed fairly quickly for my husband and I as numerous orders were showering in at the bakery and with dozens of Parisians shouting for taxis in the city. The time was approximately 21:00 as I locked up the bakery and walked back, picking up my children from our neighbor’s house and settling down at home. Hasan arrived only a few moments later with groceries for dinner. The ambience of our kitchen and living room in the evening was light and cheerful as we settled down for dinner. The kids were laughing and playing board games on the carpet with the television on in the background while my husband and I cooked dinner. Hasan

WORLD turned towards the television and starting flipping channels to look for the friendly football match between France and Germany, which was happening not too far from our home in the Stade de France. He came across a news channel with a flashing this just in –reporting a terrible tragedy, unfolding live as the reporter was speaking to the camera. He was lost for words as the reporter continued to report several suicide bombings, restaurant shootings, and massacres all throughout the region of Paris. My ears tuned in on the reporter’s voice as she described the events of the tragedy and I immediately turned to face the television. My heart sank as she stated that the initial attack by ISIS took place near the Stade de France with the assistance of a suicide bomber. The initial suicide bombing was followed by two other attempts to create utter havoc and chaos at location with not only French and Dutch dignitaries but also a large population of innocent people. The reporter went on to describe a multiplicity of attacks in the form of shootings and suicide bombings on le rue de la Fontaine-au-roi, le rue de Charonne, le boulevard Voltaire. The massacre at Bataclan theatre was the last incident that the reporter narrated before updating the injury count to 200 and the death count to 128. I understand that it only had been two short years since we’ve settled down in Saint-Denis, but even our family was aware that ISIS had attacked not only populous locations but also the heart and culture of Paris. I was overcome with a strange sense of déjà vu as I had made a striking similarity of the recent tragedy with the one that played out in our hometown in Syria. “Allah, they did it again.” I began to tremble as the news report triggered unwanted, undesired flashbacks to our time in Syria. I was suddenly standing in the streets of Syria again witnessing the public executions of anyone who dared to deny the hegemony of ISIS. I stood stationary, paralyzed with fear while clutching onto my children, covering their innocent eyes and whispering prayers into their ears. Hasan pulled me back to reality with his voice shakily saying, “the very monsters that we were running from in Syria have found their way back into our lives again, Nadia”, with his head in his hands. The rest of the night was spent putting on a front to comfort our frightened children. We tucked them into their beds as they fell asleep before slipping away to let ourselves feel an array of emotions ranging from anxiety to depression. I began to sob uncontrollably as I sat down on the nearest chair. It was extremely nerving to find out that they had infiltrated our safe haven; that they had been so close this entire time; and that they had been plotting to kill innocent people for months all throughout Paris. Hasan and I barely slept that night and when the lack of sleep finally started to exhaust us, the nightmares (much worse this time) kept us awake through the night. The immediate action of the state was to declare un état d'urgence or a state of emergency for three months time in order preserve and maintain order. Our discomfort did not end with the anxiety, paranoia and depression but also extended to accommodate increased xenophobia and Islamophobia in France. It was only after two weeks’ time that Hasan and I felt safe to work again and resumed our daily lives. However, my family faced an excessive amount of islamophobia backlash as a few individuals consumed by their hatred, attempted to push me off of an underground metro platform towards an oncoming train. My husband was also violently slapped from behind for being a Muslim as he was driving a client to his desired location. Lastly, my innocent children returned from school one day with bruises on their cheeks and disheartened looks on their faces. I cannot emphasize enough the fact that being a Muslim does not automatically make one a supporter of ISIS’ reign of terror. Hasan and I both cried ourselves to sleep that night. “Allah, our god does not believe in this! The people in France think we’re a part of this but we’re not. Nobody wants to drive with me because they feel unsafe, Nadia. I can’t even do my job. I won’t be able to provide for my own family, Nadia”,

WORLD he exclaimed with tears streaming down his cheeks. In retrospect, I believe that trying to maintain normalcy or a routine had gone in vain with the backlash that we faced by the citizens of France. The daily news reports of increasing hate crimes against Muslims kept us informed about the situation of our newfound nightmare; each story more violent than the last. Mosques were being vandalized and burnt to the ground… Imams were left with no choice but to disclose statements condemning the attacks in order to prevent further backlash… Hijabs were pulled off of respectable women’s heads as they were brutally attacked… The list was cruel and endless. I’d like to directly address the people involved in these hate crimes by saying that the refugees that you so shamefully blame merely flee what made your bones tremble on the 13th of November, except we do it every day. The backlash is not an unintended consequence of such terrorist attacks as it also plays a role in their ploy. They long and yearn for an increased rate of islamophobic backlash because it gives weight to their narrative and logic. It becomes easier for them to claim that there does exist a war between the Western worlds and Islam. We cannot let this happen. I beg you to think of this the next time your hatred towards Muslims consumes you and persuades you to attack or target refugees whom themselves have been fleeing ISIS’ reign of terror. We are all mourning. We are all angry. We must remain united against these monsters. Sincerely, Nadia.

REVISITING HISTORY

Alok Gokhale writes about what the Roman Empire can really teach us about immigration and integration. In the backdrop of the refugee crisis in Europe and a number of articles have drawn parallels between the Europe’s current predicament and the scenario faced by the Roman Empire from the 1st to 4th Centuries CE. As so often happens in the drawing of historical parallels; history is interpreted through the lens of a writers political leanings: a writer against the grant of asylum to the refugees would claim that the Roman Empire fell due to a large influx of refugees that “did not share its values”, whereas pro-immigration writers would hold that a large reason for the empire’s success was its ability to successfully integrate large masses of refugees into its armies and provinces. Neither view is wrong; but history almost never fits into the narrative cages we build for it with inconvenient facts spilling over, and ruining whatever cause we are trying to press it into service for. The drawing of simple parallels is also dangerous; we live in a very different world from the one the Romans inhabited. The most history can do for us is help us look at situations more clearly and challenge our closely held assumptions. That said, it is easy to see why it is tempting to cite Roman precedent for today’s actions. At its zenith, the Roman Empire stretched from Northern Africa in the South to England in the North and from Spain in the West to Syria in the East. The influence of Rome on the western world is almost impossible to comprehend. The calendars they use and holidays that are celebrated, in the dominant religion, in the languages spoken in Europe, the national identities of various nation states, the very conception of what is “west” and “east” and what today we classify as “civilisation” and “progress” can all be traced back to Rome. Such was the power and influence of Rome in the pre-modern era that even hundreds of years after

the fall of Rome a number of cultures and peoples tried to lay claim to its legacy: The first united German kingdom called itself “The Holy Roman Empire” even though it was hundreds of miles from the Italian peninsula and Rome. Even the Ottoman Sultan Mehmed II styled himself “Kayser-i-Rum” or “Caesar of Rome”. Mussolini in his rise to power evoked visions of the Roman Empire. John.F.Kennedy during his famous Berlin speech at the height of the cold war praised Roman citizenship as being the basis for liberties in western societies. It is clear that even centuries after its fall Rome holds the political imaginings of the Western world captive. The similarities between the Roman and EU situations however are striking. Both Rome and the EU consistently accepted refugees and were more or less successful in dealing with them. Both EU and Roman citizenships are in their respective contexts extremely attractive propositions. However over time the volume of refugees increased due to a catastrophe in their homeland such as ISIS or in the case of the Romans Attila the Hun. The late period of the Roman Empire was marked by hostilities between native Italians and the Germanic refugees that the empire accepted. Rome of course had been accepting migrants for decades and the level of integration into their empire set the gold standard for future empires that came after. Some of Rome’s finest generals and emperors were not from Rome or that matter Italian: Trajan and Marcus Aurelius were both from Spain, Constantine (the first Christian emperor and builder of Constantinople) came from the Balkans, General Aetius was from Modern day Iran as did the Emperor the Philip the Arab (the Arab in his name is a misnomer).

REVISITING HISTORY Rome integrated its immigrants without any of the tools that modern democracies use: compulsory public schooling, popular media and cultural training. Although Latin was somewhat widespread it was not prevalent enough to serve a common language of an empire that covered so many ethnicities. What the Romans however succeeded in doing was making their way of life attractive to outsiders, conquered peoples and immigrants saw value in adopting Roman ways. As Roman historian Tacitus commented it was Roman “culture” that kept all of Rome’s subjects in line. The sort of peace Rome maintained within its borders was almost unknown in Europe and conquered populations along with immigrants greatly preferred it to the otherwise perilous life in pre-medieval Europe. This peace allowed general prosperity through culture, a standard application of Roman Law and a flourishing of civilisation in Europe. The Romans successfully integrated hundreds of thousands of Germanic immigrants, by redistributing them within their territories. These individuals in turn often formed the backbone of any invading army; a boon to an empire that was facing a population crisis. This is a parallel Western European nations with aging populations would do well to heed. When archaeologists dug up Harridan’s wall in Modern Wales they found a letter written in Latin by a Roman soldier to his family; Latin was probably not the mother tongue of this soldier who was Germanic in origin but even at a place that was at that point considered the end of the world; the modern equivalent of Antarctica, this soldier who was far away from his home and far from Rome chose to write in Latin. This if nothing else goes to prove how successful the Romans were.

In fact Rome’s first unsuccessful brushes with immigration were marked by its own xenophobia and cruelty. In 376 BC two German tribes fleeing the invasion of the Huns reached the Danube River that marked the de facto border of Rome and asked the Emperor’s permission to settle within Roman territory and for protection from the Huns. The offer was readily accepted; it was standard for Romans to accept Germanic tribes with a well laid out procedure: the tribe would donate a number of fighters to the Roman army and in turn the remaining tribe would be dispersed and settled in various provinces as the Emperor saw fit. Here the tribe was given refuge in the fertile province of Thrace; however the arrival of so many immigrants created a food shortage. The local governor refused to sell food to these tribes and instead cordoned them off into camps. The governor then began then to force the starving tribes to buy dog meat and pay for it by selling their children into slavery with the going rate being two children for one dog. Unsurprisingly the tribes rebelled which led to the battle of Adrianople where nearly two-thirds of the Roman army perished along with the emperor. This war depopulated Italy and marked the beginning of the end for the Empire. Similarly the city of Rome

was sacked for the first time when the Roman Emperor refused to honour his agreement with a tribe called the Goths and their chieftain Alaric . This tribe agreed to help defend the Empire’s borders in return for payment and land to settle. The emperor refused to pay up and fuelled racial tensions by killing his half Goth general Stilicho. This was followed by a vicious crackdown on Stilicho’s Goth followers that had settled into Rome and other Italian cities. The death of Stilicho who was Alaric’s mentor coupled with the betrayal of the Goth’s led to the sack of Rome.

The example of Rome can teach us much; but there is no magic Roman solution to the crisis engulfing Europe. Immigration and multiculturalism are foregone conclusions for the EU as they were for Rome. What is important is how we as modern societies chose to treat this; will we be xenophobic and poison our societies with hatred of the “other” or will we take a more enlightened path. Immigration no doubt takes a toll on the host country; but when push comes to shove it will be up to the liberal democracies of Europe to stand by the values that have stood them in such good stead so far and not to fall prey to the xenophobia that the Romans fell prey to so long ago. That said integration into the host country by the immigrants is as important as the tolerance of the host country. A large number of tribes that the Romans settled along the Danube did not share Roman values; this integration of disloyal elements into the military is seen as one of the greatest reasons for the fall of the Western Roman Empire. At times the flow of immigrants became overwhelming. Rome and even the Romans could not deal with them fast enough. It is still a raging and deeply contested debate in Europe whether the Muslim Immigrants can integrate into Europe at all and totally internalise European values along with much ado about incommutability of cultures. An increase in crimes by immigrants and in some cases even a large exodus of Jews from Europe to avoid attacks by the immigrants lends some credence to these contentions. It is impossible to say if tolerance and oppression of xenophobia along with showing these immigrants the values of pluralistic democracies will be enough to integrate them. Doubtless when this particular immigration crisis is over a hundred years from now writers will sit and try to write a story about it that suit their own side of the political spectrum. They will attempt to cage history and as always inconvenient facts will spill over.

REVISITING HISTORY Hello, this is the author speaking. As someone who only glances through the occasional “left- liberal” magazine, I personally find many pieces that I come across to be quite arduous to get through. While plenty of exceptions do exist, I can in no way claim my newsreading habits to be comparable to those of the numerous avid readers that our campus holds. This fact is something I’ve long yearned to change, and my resolution to read more

Of the Ballot or the Bullet: The Story of Malcolm X

To put it briefly, Malcolm X is one of the most significant and divisive African American civil rights leaders of the twentieth century. His powerful influence as a radical black nationalist supported the growth of diverse opinions within the structure of the rights movement, providing a contrast to the popular philosophies of Martin Luther King Jr. “A black man in America lives in a police state. He doesn’t live in any democracy.”

magazines and op-ed The spirit of the above quotation commentaries led me (in a fit of is being increasingly echoed excitement) to my current today in the United States, as the by Sonna position. So here I am, writing movement against racial violence about a dead guy named (including in the form of police Subbaiah Malcolm X, in the hopes that I brutality) continues to gain have appealed to those of you momentum. It is thus interesting who, like me, may have (in another reality) (and entirely depressing) to note that these decided that this article was something that you would rather go through “some other time” than now (read: never). Now, you’re probably wondering what the introduction has to do with my title. Good question, actually. I seem to have digressed quite extensively, at the risk of calling upon the wrath of my readers onto my well-meaning soul. So, without further ado (and additional threat to the abovementioned soul), who is this mysterious Malcolm X I keep speaking of, and why was (is?) he relevant?

words featured in a speech given by Malcolm X more than fifty years ago. Let that fact sink in, as you hear the promises of economic development and civil rights fade into the background. Well, now that we’re done with the preliminaries (honestly, a good Google search will reveal more introductory facts about him than I ever could), we can move on to the good stuﬀ. Because let me tell you, Malcolm X was ridiculously intense. Mini history lesson time! Accompany me on a

Disclaimer: The certainty with which I claim that others like me exist is based on a survey I conducted as to the reading habits of individuals, the sample size being a healthy 3. One participant happened to be my dear mother, but I choose to disregard any implications that detail may have.

REVISITING HISTORY stroll down memory lane. The year is 1930, and a young Malcolm has just joined the ‘Nation of Islam’, a fairly new and conservative religious movement that preaches principles of African American self-reliance. Under the wing of the leader of the organisation, Malcolm ascends through the ranks until he is second in command. This comes as no surprise,

anti- imperialism. We have reached what will go down as one of the most powerful speeches of human history- ‘The Ballot or the Bullet”.

considering how he’s renowned for being as charismatic as he is articulate.

elocution competition ever), and our hearts swell with hope as an inspiring Martin Luther King Jr. weaves an idealistic masterpiece of equality, justice, and togetherness. Malcolm’s speech, on the other hand, comes as a harsh reality check.

This brings us to the concept of Black Nationalism, and what Malcolm’s ideological standpoint at this point of time is. The promotion of a separate identity for the black community is gaining support, and through it, Malcolm is able to express the anger, frustration and resentment of many African Americans across the nation. The idea of a separate state begins to form. Malcolm is also teaching beliefs that possess distinctly racist undertonesbeliefs of black superiority, the demise of the white race, and the advancement of the black community using “any means necessary” (Violence. He means violence.). Now, due to my increasingly failing attempt to maintain a decent word count, I’m afraid that we have to take a huge leap from the Malcolm of the 1930’s to the one in 1964. By this point, Malcolm has been disillusioned from the visions of the rigid Nation, and is instead adopting wider principles of socialism and

But before we walk this path, allow your attention to be momentarily distracted by the whispers of a dream. This dream is not unfamiliar to us (God knows it’s been recited enough times, word to word, at every school

“I don’t see any American dream; I see an American nightmare.” Haunting in its passion, Malcolm speaks of the two recourses that are left for his communitythe ballot or the bullet, liberty or death. As you listen with mounting apprehension, you slowly realize the ultimatum that is being placed before you, and the country as a whole. If black citizens are not granted their rightful place in the structure, violence will be inevitable. This threat is not without force. Across the nation, support for his words is rising in the form of long- suppressed fury. His message is clear; integration with the white society is a hollow ideal if unity is not achieved within the black community itself. And fast.

REVISITING HISTORY Finally, we travel to a year from this speech, and watch as Malcolm X is shot dead. His words from just a few days ago grow heavy with meaning- “It is a time for martyrs now, and if I am to be one, it will be for the cause of brotherhood.” His death comes at an unfortunate time, and many wonder how the course of history might have changed had his revolutionary views been allowed to develop. I cannot begin to stress how relevant the legacy of Malcolm X is in the present context. As in, I literally cannot. I also acknowledge that I have left much to desire in terms of what could have been a more in depth analysis. I do hope, however, that you feel inspired to contemplate these radical ideas just a little bit more, in light of recent events. This is your author signing oﬀ. Good-bye.

At no point does the author wish to typecast Dr. King, an undoubtedly revolutionary and progressive leader, into the role of a passive ‘dreamer’ (Something that is commonly observed in mainstream culture. I’m looking at you, Hallmark). Personal opinions aside, the author is merely attempting to display facts in such a way as to express a contrast between dissimilar ideologies as best as possible.. Similarities in thought exist even as diﬀerences do,

NLUD TALK I am writing to draw attention to an undiscussed form of intolerance

Aggressive Argumentation and the Death of University Spaces

that currently plagues University spaces including ours. This intolerance manifests itself as a toxic culture of aggressive argumentation; a culture that continues to hamper the growth of certain sections of students as we speak. As a disclaimer, let me make it clear at the outset that this is not a scholarly article, much less an opinion that has been arrived at after extensive study of relevant literature. I am putting down mostly what I have experienced and observed in these 4 years in college, and what I have gathered from my discussions with friends outside of college. Argument has been considered as one of the biggest virtues in a democracy. Right from the time of John Stuart Mill (probably even earlier), scholars and judges have constantly recognized the value of creating and encouraging a ‘marketplace of ideas’ i.e. a space where all kinds of ideas, whether considered ‘good’ or ‘bad’, ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ etc. are encouraged. No matter how repulsive a particular idea may seem, it needs to find place in this marketplace. It needs to thrive. But why so?

Shrutanjaya Bhardwaj

“The reason is plain enough: no man, no committee, and surely no Government, has the infinite wisdom and disinterestedness accurately and unselfishly to separate what is ‘true’ from what is ‘debatable’, and both from what is ‘false’.”

"Arguments on campus

This philosophical stand has been cemented in various constitutions across the world as a fundamental right to freedom of speech and expression. Even though the point I am trying to make through this piece is hardly a legal one, I am relying on, and assuming a certain

more often

degree of respect on part of the reader for, the aforementioned

than not

I must now directly address the alleged toxicity of this culture in

philosophical position.

University spaces. The ever-so-cherished element of argument has

reduce to a

turned into war. Of course, my problem is not at all with the content of

mere

come out to the marketplace. My problem lies with the manner in

question of

arguments that are raised on campus; it is necessary for all content to which argumentation proceeds. Arguments on campus more often than not reduce to a mere question of power and ego. There is inevitably a winning party and inevitably a losing party in an argument. Nobody is trying to discover the truth. Everyone is looking to source the truth

power and ego."

from within themselves. I see only know-it-alls around me – everyone seems to have discovered the ultimate truth of rightness and wrongness of things. Identifiable groups, each having their own version of the ‘truth’, brand at least one set of opinionated opponents as ‘stupid’ persons and ridicule them and

NLUD TALK their opinions. Don’t get me wrong here – it is a wonderful thing to hold and defend opinions, and perhaps even more wonderful to be passionate about the issues you’re fighting for. What is unacceptable to me is the kind of bashful and sarcastic methods in which arguments are refuted. An issue which can very well be engaged on purely at a philosophical/ ideological level is not so done. As Devdutt Pattnaik beautifully wrote in one of his recent pieces, “Pay close attention and you realize the language of agreement and disagreement endorses a close mind. The intent is not expanding the mind through engagement with the other, but to endorse a particular point of view. Agree, disagree and argument is the language of vi-vaad. It is not the language of sam-vaad, discussion, and deliberation. In vi-vaad, everybody seeks a voice. In sam-vaad, everyone finds an ear.” Let me mention a quick note of caution here: we should also be aware that certain groups on campus are often branded as the biggest perpetrators of such intolerance. This isn’t true, and we must realize that those groups are in the light only because they are more vocal about their stances than the rest of us. The problem of aggressive argumentation is to be sourced back not to the

particular political stances these groups take, but to the very basic and flawed idea that winning or

losing an argument shows the true intellectual ability of a person. But what makes any of this harmful? Often at the receiving end of the bashing is an under-confident student. She may be under-confident because of her background, some language barrier, or one of the so many other experiences that I cannot even attempt to list here – but she faces what we typically call a ‘chilling effect’ on the freedom to express oneself. In a space surrounded by confident speakers ready to thrash those who take a differing stance, she is bound to lose her voice, and

“ Shunning down of ideas is but the

consequently her opinions. In an environment where the bullies will get the chance to grow, she will lose out on the opportunity. Further, amidst all of this, the marketplace is lost somewhere. What competition of ideas can one expect to witness, when all ideas don’t even reach our marketplace? The dominant idea is not dominant because it has merit over and above its counters. It is dominant because its counters never reached the point where they could be engaged with. No one will ever know the merit of the ideas which were rejected on their face by the self-proclaimed torch-bearers of the truth. Shunning down of ideas is but the biggest threat to University spaces, as also to the idea of a democracy. Those advocating for tolerance towards differing ideas and

biggest threat to University spaces, as also to the idea of a democracy.”

dissenting opinions must advocate it also – and even more importantly – towards those which differ from the very basic values they themselves have always believed in. And in order to achieve this standard of tolerance, there has to be a conscious effort on part of those who have been brought up in environments that have allowed them to be ‘confident’. Confidence is indeed a virtue, but it is imperative that we don’t let it hamper the growth of other, equally entitled persons. In conclusion, I send a huge shout out to PLPDG for having organized an internal debate on the Abish Mathew incident last year. For the first time, people were debating the different nuances involved in the issue. It was a really progressive step towards encouraging civilized discussions on campus.

Bagging A Vacation Scheme by Saniya Sharma

Of Parties, Wine and A 'Training Contract' Amrutanshu Dash

NLUD TALK Saniya Sharma describes her experience in applying for the UK-based law firms. The article offers valuable tips on how to go about them.

A vacation scheme brings to your doorstep a London summer, an opportunity to gain global exposure at an international law firm, an impressive stipend and a possible training contract. If you find this interesting, then I might have something useful for you. I sat through three interviews, qualified through two and have reached the conclusion that while the entire process may be tedious, it is doable and enjoyable. Let me begin by giving a brief overview of how the vacation scheme selection procedure works. Firms usually follow a three stage procedure – an online application, few online tests and a final interview. Firms like Herbert Smith Freehills also hold a telephonic interview. All these stages are designed as a screening mechanism, with some candidates being eliminated at each stage. So let’s dissect the process! Information Gathering Before writing the application, it is very important to read up on the firm you are applying for. Every firm has a graduate recruitment website and I used the same to understand each firm’s expectations from an applicant. This exercise also enabled me to understand the firms – their core values, unique characteristics and social life - thus helping me differentiate my motivation for applying to each firms. Application Stage A well-drafted application will undoubtedly get you half way through the selection procedure. You might be required to answer pointed questions, or write a general essay on your personality and achievements. While drafting my application, I focussed on highlighting two things – my genuine interest in the firm and my skills/strengths that complement the firm. To do the former, I researched the fi r m s w e l l a n d c l e a r l y articulated my motivation. To do the later, as philosophical as it may sound, I went through a phase of introspection (which was quite fun!) in order to understand my strengths and pick up instances from my school days onwards where I had demonstrated them. You need to be wise with respect to what you put in your application, as apart from creating that first impression, the content will most likely steer your interview. The aim, therefore, should be to weave in your strengths and achievements in such a manner that they align with the profile of the firm. Dedicate some quality time and turn on some good music to make this a smooth ride.

Tests The tests that you will be required to undergo include (depending on the firm) - situational judgement, logical reasoning, verbal reasoning and the Watson Glaser Critical Thinking Test. There are a number of free tests available online which makes preparation easy. As a smart move, practice using sample tests from the website of the institute that is in charge of organising the test for the respective firm, as it will familiarise you with the question pattern. I was paranoid about the logical test and so I practised that extensively online; 80% of the questions turned out to be common! Interview The interview is all about a demonstration of three things – a genuine interest in the firm, legal acumen and a commercial sense. Encompassing these three things are two broad ideas that you are expected to stand true to: an overall personality that compliments the firm, and an ability to think fast and comprehensively. The firms test this by subjecting you to a technical round based on a case study where you are expected to highlight legal and commercial issues, and an HR round where you are asked general questions. The key, therefore, is preparation. To show an interest in the firm, I thoroughly researched the firms and made active use of all that stalking when answering questions. For the legal bit, I studied the basics of M&A, Contracts, Joint Ventures, etc. As for commercial sense, the expectation is to demonstrate an understanding of business in general. There is, of course, no set formula for acquiring a commercial way of thinking, but I found it helpful to read newspapers like the Economic Times. For the HR, I thoroughly read my application and prepared a list of expected questions and answers (don’t memorise, just have a brief outline ready). While the internet can help you frame answers, what will set you apart is how well you can incorporate the firm and your strengths into your answers. Lastly, needless to say, smart dressing, a pleasant smile and a relaxed tone might give you those extra marks to nail your interview. As I conclude, I would like to stress that in these interviews, I was not required to show that I was academically strong and it was not enough for me to demonstrate smartness. I had to establish that I was aware, that I could think, that I wanted to be there and that I fit in. Do not hesitate to approach people – I had some wonderful seniors guiding me throughout the process and it definitely made a difference. Be relaxed, enjoy the process and it should be done!

NLUD TALK Amrutanshu tells us how one can convert a vacation scheme into a training contract at a foreign law firm. With a conversion rate of cent percent at our

comfortable with the cohort. The parties with the

University, an offer of vacation scheme itself has

liquor flowing is a necessary evil (). The metric of

been considered as an equivalent to a job offer. This

technical evaluation is on the ability to think

‘stereotype’ (& I mean it in that way) has two

quickly on your feet, which is evaluated from small

dimensions: first, it gives an unnecessary invincible

research exercises. This is in tune with their

feeling to the person receiving the vac scheme,

philosophy that proclaims that anyone can be a

when your classmates are scrambling for a job;

lawyer as long as the person has a knack for

second, the recruitment coordination committee

reasoning. You can also sense this from the fact that

thinks that you have already reached ‘promise land’

the cohort includes people who are studying

and hence, beyond ‘assistance’. Although the

philosophy, politics, economics or even geography.

probability of turning the scheme into a training

A necessary concomitant is that they would not go

contract (‘TC’) is high, it’s far from being certain.

into legal technicalities in evaluation. The Client

To give a brief background into the process, a number of London headquartered law firms (A&O, HSF, Linklaters) visit India to offer vac schemes to students who are in their penultimate year (7th sem). The scheme involves working at their London offices in the summer break between 4th and 5th year, with the hope of converting the scheme into a TC. The add-ons include air tickets, acco, booze (it literally flows), a generous stipend and more importantly, a summer in London. The Indian equivalent of such an exercise is termed as an ‘Assessment Internship’ programme. What does it take to receive a vac scheme is a discussion for another day, and quite an extensive one at that. Therefore, I focus my energy on how can you convert a vac scheme into a TC?

you market your firm to a potential client or an existing client for potential business. Normally, the presentation is given to a Partner who has been dealing with the client over the years and has immense background to the business needs of that company. It isn’t as easy as they say, as you can imagine. The London assessment of your stay with them. Although you may not

assigned with back breaking legal

arguments. So, here’s a three-fold test that I

work, the testing

propose for converting the vac scheme into a TC:

criterions can be quite alien

2. Can you represent our firm before a Client? 3. Is s/he comfortable to lead a working life in London? The parameters of evaluation coincide and seek to answer these questions. Your interaction with the fellow vac schemers is noted, so also is your relationship with the lawyers assigned to supervise you. These interactions are used to gauge if the person can mingle freely and adjust to the new surroundings. You participate in recreational activities (treasure hunt) to check if you are

test is more

like an overall

As lawyers, we tend to evolve tests for evaluating all

1. Can we work with you?

test is met by a small client pitch exercise where

and

consequently, exhausting. Even if you are not sure about a possible career in corporate law, give it a shot. I have heard some people say that a person who is not interested, or yet to develop a concrete interest, for a career in corporate law should not sit for the vac scheme interview in order to afford others a chance. That’s an extremely silly view. One must realise that the prospective vac schemer is not competing against her batch mates (the firms do not take a set number of candidates from each school) but against people from other law schools. Therefore, for what it’s worth, please do apply for the wonderful experience that London promises to offer!

NLUD TALK As suggestive as the title is, follow R.S. Lakshman on this trail down the corridors of the hallowed portals of NLU-‐Delhi to get a taste of its flavourful activistivism. Here’s the political scene of an allegedly apolitical campus. Take it with a pinch of salt. It is amazing what persistent persuasion, with a touch of flattery from a valued friend can do to you. Well, it has put me in a rather unusual fix of having to write something original. To warn you, I must say that it is not something I do often. Realizing that there is no paucity of relevant topics to write on in this University, picking a topic is not that difficult a task and considering the current political goings-‐on in the country as well as in University, an account of how campus politics plays out in this college ought to pique everyone's interest. Campus politics manifests itself in several ways, both in stronger forms like 'Politics on Campus', and in weaker forms like the student Committee elections. While our University is almost entirely devoid of partisan 'Politics on Campus', certain degree of Student Activism does take place in the form of Gender Circle, APPSC, Student Committee elections, etc. Then there is the more spontaneous version of political activity in the form of sporadic debates like those on the 'Introduction of Buff' and the Abish Mathew incident. Falling in the same category as the last would be the occasional collective grievances against the college administration on issues relating to attendance, examinations, curfews and other restrictions.

CAMPUS POLITICS: The NLUD Narrative R.S. Lakshman the new "successful" model of higher education which also places an undue emphasis on disciplining, contrary to the notion of creative freedom. Hence, such an administrative structure considerably decreases the scope of any meaningful political engagement. When most decisions and choices are already made for us and strictly enforced, not much is left for the students than to obey. Secondly, any rights-‐based assertion or demand by the students is easily shot down by the administration and is met with condemnation. Unfortunately, many a time, such widely endorsed assertions fail to gain any meaningful traction even among the students in a way that could influence the decisions of the administration. Thirdly, Student Committees are largely ineffective in addressing public affairs of the students when the interests of students are in conflict with the "interests of the students" as identified by the administration. The reason for this is simple. Student Committees cannot really assume an assertive role as they are subordinate to the administration. They are very much part of the top-‐down model and are bound by the prescribed mandate. Their modus operandi cannot be assertion but can only be entreaty or solicitation.

All these generate, not so infrequently, debates and discussions in classrooms, hostels, WhatsApp groups and Fourthly, the much-‐debated restrictions on e-‐mail threads that can be collectively time and space make it near impossible referred to as activities of a political for even the politically-‐oriented students nature, where 'political' means 'relating “When most to indulge in serious deliberation and to the public affairs of the students'. decisions and subsequent action. Mandatory classroom However, an unfortunate and inevitable attendance that takes up more than half observation follows this one – that choices are already of our day-‐time, six days a week and the Campus Politics in our University is pressure of other curricular duties do not made for us and largely impulsive and very often fails to leave much time for extra-‐curricular achieve any meaningful ends for the strictly enforced, not engagement. Worse is the space students. Sometimes, even after a lot of restriction. The curfews ensure that after much is left for the hue and cry, one observes that such the prescribed time, the entire campus activities have hardly contributed in students than to except the hostels is simply out of shaping mature opinion among students bounds to the students. Consequently, obey.” about their own rights or interests. Of these physical constraints do impact course, the standards I apply here are student interaction and reduces the relative and this is not to discount the scope for active campus politics. And finally, it is the outstanding work done by groups like the Gender Circle pressure of priorities. Most of us are imbued with a sense and the APPSC, which have managed to achieve some of purpose that does not go beyond the aspirations of good success on certain issues. So, how do we explain this grades, good research papers, good internships, better CVs predicament? Before attempting to answer this question, I and ultimately great jobs. To accommodate a political would like to counter one assumption right off the bat -‐ engagement in such a scheme of priorities is tough. that we are an apolitical bunch. A simple look at some of our discussions in classrooms, hostels and across various platforms shows that many of us do take part in issues of student affairs and at times passionately defend or attacks views on both theory and practice. In that case, what could explain such a profound lack of assertive and meaningful campus politics? The reasons are not so obscure and not so distinct and are borne out of both rule and convention. The first and foremost culprit would be the strictly hierarchical structure of administration in college. Some of the reasons I state hereafter could be understood as corollaries to this reason. The policies implemented by the administration are often borne out of an a priori assumption that they know what's best for us. Such a paternalistic attitude is characteristic of

This article is merely an account of how one experiences campus politics in this University. The argumentative spirit, political thinking, ability to reason and challenge are all undisputed qualities one observes among the students of NLUD. However, these are hardly reﬂected in the way they engage in campus politics so as to bring about meaningful ends. This article is merely attempting to state the obvious. Further, the article does not intend to unleash a series of vitriol against the college administration. It is known that the administration itself works within a prescribed framework and is subjected to various external pressures. However, it is hoped that this article is considered as an entreaty to the administration to be more accommodative in handling the aﬀairs of students.

NLUD TALK appreciate the role of these readings, and exposing oneself to them. They provides us with a brilliant opportunity to see how people who are different than us and live under different circumstances, or have lived in a different time, look at issues that affect them. And that’s where the beauty of it lies – in its ability to expand one’s horizons, and discover new ways to look at the society around us. Agreed, not always does one have to agree with these views. Which is where learning how to engage in

“People At Law School Read A Lot.” The GenderCircle share their experiences in hosting a reading group last semester.

constructive criticism of the views comes in. A trait,

This statement has become a stereotype which

decided to start a Reading Group – Reading Like A

has come to be associated with law students.

Feminist. An nod to the classic feminist text Seeing

Every one of us must have been accused of this at

Like A Feminist by Prof. Nivedita Menon, the aim of

some point of time by our friends. But when you

the group was to foster interest and debate about

do think about it, the statement isn’t all that

issues related to gender and sexuality. And hence, in

incorrect. People at law school do read a lot – for

the (somewhat) cold night of late October (because

pleasure or purely out of necessity.

meetings cannot take place indoors in our

When we all first faced a freakishly-long reading (HLCD memories!), it seemed like a never ending

sadly, not everyone who ‘argues’ seems to understand. Seeing how reading can be a major gateway to new knowledge and opinions, , we at GenderCircle

University), were the humble beginnings of our Reading Group.

hell. It went on, and on, and on, and there seemed

The group began with the theme of Romance

to be no choice. Gone were the days of beloved

Novels, deciding to start with books which are easy-

Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, and the

to-read to encourage stronger participation.

academic readings which were to consume all our

served the dual purpose in showing how innocent

time. However, only slowly does one begin to

romance novels can affect our perception of gender

NLUD TALK roles in an all-pervasive way. The first session had

question their views with questions of a moral

people reading classic Mills & Boon

nature.

novels

alongside Seeing Like a Feminist, which provided them

The third, and final, session of the semester was a

with the tools to effectively deconstruct the former.

tribute to Ismat Chugtai, whose centenary was

The session saw a strong response from both, the

celebrated in 2015. The group read an English

student body and the faculty, who gathered in front

translation of her

of the cafeteria . The novels show a clear disregard

‘The Lihaf Trials’. The session saw a spot-reading of

for fleshing out their characters, and making them

Lihaaf, followed by a discussion in which a point of

adhere to the prevalent stereotypes of our society

interest remained to all that while Lihaaf is

without fail (the girl has to have a Gay best friend,

remembered as one of the first stories potraying

work Lihaaf and excerpts from

somehow!). One of the novels even went on show a woman falling in love with her rapist,

sexual relations between

“They provides us with a

two females , it actually

brilliant opportunity to see how

has no direct reference to

because he realizes his

people who are different than us

“mistake”. Soon into

and live under different

the discussion, a

circumstances, or have lived in a

realization – that just like these innocent

different time, look at issues

novels which now seem

that affect them.”

so utterly sexist, there

the same - just vague references of activities under the quilt and oil massages.

That

relationship between the aunt and her servant was that of equals, despite the class difference, was

is so much inherent

another interesting point . The discussion moved

sexism around us that we continue to ignore –

towards ‘The Lihaf Trials’, and how the story

seemed to hit a lot of people. On that note the

caused an uproar in the society then. Finally, the

group parted for that day, looking forward to the

group borrowed from these discussions and talked

next session.

about the representation of Gays and Lesbians in

After the tremendous response to the first session,

contemporary

the second one sought to address the much debated

popular movie Fire was discussed, where people felt

theme of taboo practices like BDSM in romance

it did injustice by showing the women turn to

novels. For that, we picked the extremely popular

lesbianism only because their husbands ignored

Fifty Shades Of Gray by E.L. James and Nine Rules To

them.

Break When Romancing A Rake by Sarah Maclean . As

The Reading Group did wonderfully, having seen an

before, Seeing Like A Feminist was there to assist us,

active participation from people on campus. We

but accompanied this time by a work of

radical

saw some old faces, and were pleasantly surprised

feminist Gayle Rubin – Thinking Sex. The session

by some new ones.. GenderCircle is going to

proved to have a lot more debate than the last one,

continue with its Reading Group sessions in the

with people looking at the controversial topic of

Even Semester too, and we can only hope that more

BDSM in different light. It seemed like the age old

and more new people come and join us. For the

debates between feminists of the liberal and radical

love of reading. Or to engage with us. Or just to

schools seemed to have come alive again in the very

listen, and hopefully engage with the ideas and

grounds in front of our Cafeteria. The session took

opinions they hold within themselves. For, as we

a very interesting turn when people were forced to

media. The problem with the

said before, this is process is just as much about un-learning as it is about learning.

NLUD TALK

On Liberty: Entry-Exit Rules at NLUD Bhargavi Vadeyar, in conversation with Aditya Vikram Yadav, Convenor of the Student Welfare Committee 1. Most of the student body is unaware of the changes to the entry-exit rules on campus. Could you explain what they are? The entry-exit rules have remained a critical issue for successive Student Welfare Committees, but for a variety of reasons, very little had been achieved thus far. The administration has been of the view that regulated movement of students facilitates academics, class attendance and discipline, while the students have maintained that such restrictions are somewhat repressive, given their stringency and the fact that there are many grey areas which are often used to the studentsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; detriment. The issues we tackled relating to entry and exit consist of three aspects â&#x20AC;&#x201C; i) Rationalisation of timings for entry into and exit from the University campus. ii) Removal of the 9:00 p.m. curfew for the movement of students within the campus. iii) Permission Slips regulating students movement out of campus. Unlike previous years, we decided to be pro-active and persistent about the issues, and spent an entire semester attempting to gain credibility with the administration and the unanimous support of the student body by resolving issues related to the canteen, mentorship for freshers, sensitization towards caste related issued and engaging a counsellor for the students, to name a few. The Vice-Chancellor graciously accepted a proposal for a meeting with us to discuss these issues, and after a candid two hour meeting, approved in principle the removal of campus curfew, given that no security issues exist on campus, along with approving relaxation of campus entry timings, as the presence of a vehicle to ferry students at late hours, along with the police post next to campus have significantly reduced security risks to students. It was also agreed that a move towards an intimation based system is desirable from the current permission based systems.

NLUD TALK The next and possibly final step is the ironing out of the details with the Registrar, who has been extremely supportive throughout, after which we will present the same to the Student Body. 2. Those are some really amazing changes! How did you get the VC to agree to this, considering this has been tried many times before with little success? Successive SWCs have raised the same issues with the administration year after year, and the problem possibly remained that we were submissive, and not convinced of the validity of our stand. Additionally, the paucity of resources had restrained previous SWCs from carrying out meaningful work elsewhere to gain the credibility to represent students. I was closely associated with similar negotiations last year as Co-Convenor, when we were able to secure some token concessions, and earlier too when we had lobbied for a Student Bar Council two years ago. We had extensive discussions both internally and with the students, to convince ourselves and others of the validity of our stand and the critical need for change. The Committee decided to be aggressive and maintained what we perceived to be considerable pressure on the administration, and I even filed an RTI to ascertain a clear picture. This became necessary as conflicting versions of rules and facts seemed to emerge from the administration from time to time, and no one in the administration was prepared to put their verbal arguments into writing, throughout the negotiations. Finally, armed with the reply given by the University PIO and with a unanimous mandate from the Student Body, we went in all guns blazing for the final meeting. VC Sir was very receptive of our ideas and finally decided to give in to our impassioned demands. 3. Has there been any change to the prohibition on using the back gate? The SWC has repeatedly appealed for the opening of the Back Gate for reasons of both security and convenience for the students. The administration has remained exceptionally steadfast on this particular issue, and it was decided that given the complete absence of any substantial reform till now, the issue could be deferred till the acceptance of the other proposals, as it is very important for the Student Welfare Committee to get their foot in the door first, and demand incremental reforms once the position has been established. The issue will be taken up as soon as the Entry-Exit Rules are amended. 4. Can you tell us about any other proposals the SWC got approved in this meeting? The establishment of an Equal Oppurtunities Cell and a Coaching Scheme for students from socially and economically disadvantaged backgrounds, were also approved, so as to ensure that institutional structures exist to tackle and resolve issues of discrimination within campus. Additionally, the remedial classes will aid students who may require additional assistance either in spoken or written English, or in coping with the core academic curriculum. Finally, the proposal for activating the Student Bar Council Fund, which was a contentious issues for the entire set of Student Committees was also discussed, and the procedure for the usage of funds directly by the respective Committees along with inherent safeguards remains to be resolved with the Registrar.

NLUD TALK

10 Things That A Nepalese Student Goes Through -‐Shreya Upreti Some of these probably apply only to me and might not be relatable to others, so please read this article in the light hearted manner that it is intended. Below is a list of ten of the most annoying things that have happened to me as a student in India, who is not originally from India. When you’re in the middle of a passionate conversa6on or when you’re sleep deprived, typically around exam 6me, you inexplicably slip into your mother tongue and realize a=er an awkward pause that the person you’re talking to is staring at you as if you’ve

When you crave for par6cular food (read momos) and can’t ﬁnd a single place that serves it the way you like it.

When you’re being checked in at the airport, you’re excited to ﬂy back home, and the man checking you in inquires with a smirk as to why you’re studying in India and whether it’s because you don’t have colleges in Nepal. He then expects you to laugh but you’ve heard this ‘joke’ so many 6mes, always at the airport somehow, that you just stare into his eyes and hope that he swallows a bug while sneezing today.

In the rare instance that your teacher expects you to do an empirical project and asks you what State you’re from, you have to tell them that you’re not from India and watch them as they ﬂuster for a liGle while as they try to ﬁgure out what to do with you.

When you tell yourself every semester that you’re going to intern in India this 6me but every 6me the semester ends, you give yourself some excuse for not coming back.

A liGle part of you dies every 6me summer comes around and you inevitably fall sick because your body has s6ll not adapted to the Delhi heat.

Having to convert IC to NC in your head to see how much trouble you’re in with your parents due to your spending habits.

When your holidays and those of your school friends’ don’t sync and you haven’t seen some of them in years, even though you make plans constantly.

That annoying accent you can’t shake oﬀ while speaking in Hindi and is the sole reason why you don’t converse in the language unless it is unavoidable.

When you get mistaken for a pros6tute. This has happened to me twice, once by a transgender lady in front of India Gate and once by a rickshaw driver in Paharganj, both 6mes when I was in the company of male friends, who were also from Nepal.

NLUD TALK reading in tandem with group exercises both

Sanjana recounts her experience, with physical and conversational in nature. agony and delight, on working with a Mirroring, shadowing and improvisation thespian last semester. allowed us to be more at ease with one It’s common to limit ourselves to the activities law students are expected to take up. But when a few decide to undertake other creative options, it is found to be ‘not synonymous with law school’. I understood this when I was speaking to a relative before the end semester examinations. I added with excitement that we were performing Kaushik Basu’s Crossings at Benaras Junction at the LTG auditorium the following week- which is why I was staying back for an extra few days. I was sorely disappointed to hear him chuckle about how I moved to Delhi to do ‘all this naatak (dramatics)’. The comment stung, but it is generally perceived that law students aren’t the first group of individuals one would link with a theatre performance. Initially, many of us first years too took this up as a hobby more than a learning experience- an escape from the seemingly endless drudgery of projects and classes and readings. Now, as I write this article, I see how grossly incorrect I was. When we read the script, we weren’t all that convinced we could put up a great show. Being new to this college, we had heard how critically acclaimed, a previous play, Riot had been, and were hoping for a story with loads of drama and flare. The notion of doing a comedy, however, was that it was incredibly difficult - especially for us students, who were basically amateurs. We started with the usual script

another- a cast of students from all batches. Our interaction with Swaroopa Ghosh began with a ten day workshop that she had conducted the previous year, which I later learnt was the origin of our daily exercises. That particular day, we sat huddled on the stage in our routine circle. Each of us was a bundle of nerves, anxious about showing our semi-completed work to a theatre professional of her repute. The slamming of the doors of the auditorium indicated her entry; and we turned to watch a middle aged woman saunter in, as if she had been here a thousand times before. Her assistantsAshima, Rupangi and Hemang- followed her, which initially made me curious as to what the fuss was about. She started off by making us get onto the stage individually and introduce ourselves. Wary and unsure, a few of us began with our names and citiesbut as more people went onstage, our inner fears began to surface. I felt odd that I could talk about my personal insecurities to someone I’ve never met before, simply at her behest. Through one simple exercise, she played a pivotal role in making us overcome our own inhibitions. But we didn’t realize any of the reasons behind her exercises at the start. We were puzzled when she made us walk and run around the auditorium for ten minutes every day. We would be slightly irritated when, after two hours with her, we barely did one scene from the script. She would also give us ‘homework’ with respect to characters in the play and our views on the same. Writing this and reflecting on this workshop, however, makes

NLUD TALK me realize how important it all was. After ten days, we were so familiar with the place of practice and each other that individual words and actions were almost predictable. Mirroring, and sometimes meditating, taught us to hone our focus on our dialogues and gestures whilst acting. She explained to us the importance of body language on stage through exercises regarding ‘power equations’ and instilled in us the tough idea that unlike the movies, theatre hides nothing. Though we were dead tired after every session, whatever we imbibed was definitely executed the next day. I must say that she transitioned into the director’s chair very smoothly after that. There was no change in the way she conducted things or in how she treated us. However, she did expect us to toughen up and keep up with her standards. We weren’t theatre students, or even passionate enthusiasts, but she hated to hear us whine about any grievance. She would recount her experiences about temperamental directors and replaceable actors to make us understand how fickle our presence was- which means that we had to make it count. When a cast member was absent, she refused to tolerate it and immediately asked if he or she could be replaced. She didn’t waste time berating us, but we just knew that she was displeased. She would arrive on time with her team, which made the seniors call us at least forty five minutes in advance. Her unflinching attention to detail would cause us to do the same dialogue fifteen times, in different ways, till she was convinced. Practice would extend to three hours, sometimes more. Every day with her required more effort and more hard work put into what began as an extra-curricular activity. She was meticulous, relentless and steadfast in her approach. But what I found most striking about Swaroopa- as we called h e r was that though she w a s very invested in the

production, there was this expression of indifference that made you want to perform better, on your own volition. She was the classic example of ‘cool’- visibly seen in her attire, her attitude or in her manner of speaking to us after practice, as if we were all equals offstage. Despite her stern nature as a director, she wouldn’t embarrass anyone who approached her. She would always try to promote the team spirit. She brought her own energy to the script and flawlessly turned a play on philosophical jargon into an introspective look into Indian society. It is this same energy that we aimed to carry to our final performance in December- and hopefully, we did. But from that performance, what I wouldn’t forget is how she embraced each and every one of us- which showed that she had the utmost faith in the cast, and that we had already made her proud. Yes, there were times when most of us would inwardly curse her for making us work so hard. Yes, trying times under her ‘draconian’ supervision made many reconsider the decision to join the play. But I wouldn’t trade it for any other director or mentor. The three months put into this production may be ridden with complaints, but I find myself fortunate to have been through it with such a cast, headed by such a spirited professional. Not only have we learnt to be more confident and comfortable in our own skin, this experience has also personally helped me overcome social inhibitions related to public speaking and interacting with seniors. Swaroopa Ghosh definitely leaves us with an enhanced skill set and a plethora of Photo Courtesy: Sanjana Ravjiani memories.

SPORTS

“There’s nothing like the Premier League.” - Pratik Jha Football has always been more than just watching two teams kick a ball around, statistics, records, or just being the in-thing. Regardless of how one starts watching football, what keeps people hooked is a connection that people form with a team. We all love a good story, and if nothing else, every year the Premier League tells us a fascinating one. I hear a lot nowadays about how the Premier League is changing, that it isn’t what it was in the last decade or two. If you strictly look at tables, there isn’t much of a difference. The point tally after 26 games in the 2015/16 season is very similar to any of the twenty-team editions of the league. Something that may be different is the change in the traditional “big four”, as teams like Man United and Liverpool are still finding their way after a few whirlwind times. The other big reason for this change is the new TV broadcasting rights deal signed by the Premier League. Two TV deals were signed in the space of four years. The first has been effect since the 2013-14 season, which expires at the end of the current campaign, and the second lasts from 2016-19. “TV deals? Aren’t deals like these renewed every couple of years?” Yes, but the 2013-16 deal is worth upwards of £3 billion, which is £1.4 billion more than the 2010-2013 deal. The 2016-2019 deal is worth £5 billion. Simply put, this means that the P r e m i e r L e a g u e clubs are earning A LOT o f

money. Let me throw a few numbers around. Manchester United earned upwards of £60 million for the 2012-13 season when they were crowned Champions. In the 2013-14 season, relegated Cardiff City earned the same. That isn’t even the real ‘wuttt’ moment. Effective next season, the team finishing dead last in the league will earn upwards o f £ 1 0 0 m i l l i o n . To p u t t h a t i n t o perspective, the winners of the 2015-16 UEFA Champions League will earn a MAXIMUM of £80 million. Some argue that this money will stir up the competition in the division, and while I acknowledge the stating of the obvious, my concern is that the money will eat away at the indigenous identity of the clubs. The problem with the money, to my mind, is that it will in time take away something that made the Premier League special. The Premier League had a captivating aura right from its inception. The dynasties made it special, the underdogs made it special, because they told us their stories. The degree of predictability in the league made the unexpected moments special. Without it, the unpredictable becomes the new predictable. There is a certain beauty to consistency that trumps the thrill of unpredictability. We will continue to have the great escapes, and the smaller teams having their fairytale runs, but we won’t have clubs that we can relate to, West Bromwich Albion, the yo-yo club spending its life going through ups and downs, Stoke City, showing us that through hard graft we can stand among those more gifted than us. It was these stories that captured the interest of the fans. They were inspired by the history, they could relate with a club’s victories and struggles. Money changes the clubs’ priorities; in order to survive, they must abandon the personal for the professional. Stoke City have abandoned their ‘ugly’ side by replacing their long serving manager Tony Pulis with Mark Hughes, with the latter bringing in players with more attacking flair like Bojan Krkic,

SPORTS Arnautovic, Afellay, Shaqiri etc. Manchester United have neglected their philosophy of buying young talent and integrating more youth team members in favour of a more quick fix approach. We will have unpredictable seasons, new clubs going head to head with the dynasties of old, and all this may contribute to furthering what is already the most popular sport in the world. By no choice of our own, we are trading consistency for unpredictability. I started watching the Premier League at the age of six, courtesy my peers being a lot older. As I grew older, I started understanding the sport a little more. That wasn’t enough to keep me hooked though, because the Premier League football of the early 2000s had its fair share of drab, long-ball nil-nil draws (Shout-out to Man United for reminding us of those wonderful years time and again this season.). The fascination for the Premier League came from reading up on the histories of the clubs, the cities and its people. I could understand and enjoy the rough and tough long-ball Stoke City games because it epitomized the hooligan culture of its fans. They enjoyed the dirty tactics, the hard tackles, the socalled ugly side of the game, because they could relate. That made me realize that football meant different things to different people. It wasn’t just about winning, and with regard to many clubs it wasn’t about winning at all. That is when I realized that it was these stories that made the Premier League special. You had

the new boys coming up from the Championship into the League of the great English football dynasties; the famous Man United, the mighty Liverpool and towering Arsenal. Each club brought something different to the table (See what I did there?) and together they played their part in giving us weekly drama from August to May. We can already see the effects of the influx of the big bucks (How do I do it?). You have stories of once great clubs falling into the darkness, your Leeds United, Newcastle United, and Liverpool to a certain extent and maybe even my beloved Manchester United. You have stories of clubs representing towns of a population of 180,000 odd people, rising from League One to the Premier League in the space of three years, of teams winning the FA Cup and getting relegated in the same season. While the money coming in will increase competition and increase the quality of the football, my one hope is that it doesn’t take away the side of the Premier League that most appealed to the people who found greater joy in the fantastical. The Premier League gave us a plethora of clubs with whom we could relate. They tell us their stories, and we find a little bit of ourselves in them. That, in my opinion, is what makes the Premier League special. While what is written here can, and for good reason may, be classified as speculative, it all stems from the fear that one day a generation of children won’t hear the tales this great league once told us.

RACONTEUR

Audi Alteram Partem wishes to encourage short story writing. These stories could either be original or a translation of a story in a different language. This issue features two stories.

Birth of a New God

The short story is a satire on religious obscurantism and bigotry. It also, hilariously, tells us about human frailty and the foundations of human faith.

Part I Stepping out of my house, each day I would stumble on that stone. The other day, I was in no hurry as I opened my front door to go out for a stroll. Yet, thanks to tripping on that stone, I ended up sprinting out of the house and right into the path of an oncoming car. Thank goodness for the driver’s alertness. He did a timely swerve and I was saved. Ever since that day I was determined to do something about it. I had never imagined that a simple stone could acquire the status of a major adversary in the path of my life. Moreover, it was beginning to be a matter of life and death because there was no reason to believe that onrushing vehicles could continue to take a kindly view of my need to exist. That is why I decided it was time for direct confrontation: it had to be the stone or me. If the stone remained, I would surely not survive for long. And since my survival- at least from my point of view – is the more desirable outcome, one morning I got hold of a crowbar and got to work.

Part II It was a biggish stone with just a sliver jutting out of the ground. It took the better part of the morning and quite a sweat to heave it out. When I did succeed and eventually looked up, I realized there was a small, silent gathering bystanders who had been watching me intently. I looked at them, puzzled, and asked, ‘Do any of you want this stone?’ There was a slight murmur but no clear answer. So I repeated, ‘If you need, you can take it, really. In fact, that would make my hard work worthwhile.’ After a brief pause, one man stepped out and asked a bit awkwardly, ‘Why did you dig it out? Was there… was there a dream?’ I looked directly at him and said, ‘No. No such thing happened.’

A short story, originally titled ‘Debotar Janmya’ by Shibram Chakraborty in Bengali. Translated by Kaushik Basu. The translation has earlier been published in The Little Magazine.

I continued to work, banishing the stone to a far corner, away from my daily path. The man continued to look at me unconvinced. ‘You are not telling the truth, are you? Was there really no divine dream asking you to do this?’ ‘Not at all,’ I said irritably and walked back into my house. I asked my mother to make two cups of tea. I needed both after the battle with the stone and my

RACONTEUR superstitious audience. After that day, every now and then, when going out of the house, or coming in, I would notice the stone, but gradually I began paying no heed to it, now it had lost its ability to trip me. But one day, a virtual transformation of the stone caught my attention. It had been washed clean, with all the mud stains gone. I figured it must be one of those Calcutta Corporation sweepers who hose the roads and pavements, who must have noticed the soiled stone and decided to give it a good dousing. ‘Do you see what is happening?’ I was so absorbed in my thought that the question gave me a start. It was the same man from that day, looking admiringly at the stone. ‘Have you been standing guard here since that day?’ I asked sarcastically. ‘Or did you get a divine dream that brings you here?’ ‘No, no,’ he stuttered, ‘I go this way every day.’ He looked uncomfortable for a while, but soon became his usual self. ‘The stone seems fine. No one will take it? What do you say?’ He asked in a tone as if this was an object so precious that you would not find a substitute for it in all of India; and as though there were a whole lot of people scheming to abscond with this heavenly gift. I consoled him, ‘Don’t worry. The ones who would have been tempted to steal it are safely housed in Ranchi by our kind government.’ He smiled a bit unsurely and said, ‘You may say what you want. But have you seen some people have offered prayers to the stone?’ I realized then that he was right. There were marks of fresh vermillion on the stone. ‘Good,’ I said, ‘it looks nice. Now you have someone else that recognizes its divine worth.’ He looked grim. ‘That is my fear. That someone else should not take it away.’

Part III The next morning, the stone was gone. I was completely puzzled. Who could have taken such a useless thing? And where? I could find no answers. All I knew was that that gentlemen, who frequented

this place, would be very distressed. In fact, I found myself feeling a tinge of sadness for him.

Part IV Several days went by. I was coming home, past the enormous peepul tree at the street corner. Holy cow! Who brought the stone here? There it was beneath the tree, pushed a little into the soil with the shiny, well-rounded side jutting out like a shiva linga. Strewn around the stone were petals and sacred leaves of bela. I decided it must be one of those God-fearing folks who go that way daily for their holy dip in the Ganges, who made these offerings of flowers and leaves to the stone as a cheap ticket to a good after-life. Anyway, now that the stone had found itself a home, no one at least had to worry about its well-being anymore. I could not help not help but feel pride in the stone’s elevation from wayside non-entity to an object of veneration. After all, it was I who liberated the stone, and now – bless it – the stone is into liberating human beings. I occasionally thought that I should tell that man about the whereabouts of his God. I did bump into him a few times but he never raised the matter of the stone. I had thought I’d find him crestfallen at the disappearance of his precious stone but, on the contrary, he looked quite cheerful. Well, if he had managed to overcome the sorrow of his bereavement so well, I had no business to rake up old memories. So I let the subject pass.

Part V Some more time went by. When I occasionally walked past the peepul tree, I noticed that the status of the stone was on a steady upward trajectory. One day, in fact, I saw a group of roving sanyasis gathered around the stone, chanting what seemed to me like gibberish: ‘Bom. Bom.’ And as expected with such sanyasis around, I could smell ganja from a mile away. Now that the sanyasis had come – I was certain – there would soon arrive the devotees – ordinary folks in search of blessing. And who knows, a temple might get constructed. And of course, money would soon be collected from gullible folks visiting the stone God, thereby giving the temple a steady financial foundation

RACONTEUR Part VI A few weeks later I learned that I would have to go to Champaran (in northern Bihar) for some work relating to a sugar mill. I would be away from Calcutta for several months; and so, on my way to the station I thought I should check out how the saga of the stone was unfolding. It was exactly as I had predicted. The sanyasis had now been joined by several dreamy eyed devotees. I stood for a while eavesdropping. What I could gather from the snippets of conversation I overheard was, in gist, this. The stone is none other than Lord Trilokeshwar Shiva, in other words, God himself. The stone had emerged here from under the ground, in fact, this stone has no ending. One can dig as deep as one wishes, one will not find its root. Accordingly, one sanyasi held forth, to give the stone its due, it is essential to build a temple around it. I suddenly felt a strong urge to tell all those devotees the true history of this stone and to expose the lie of its bottomlessness. But I did not have a life insurance policy and was fully aware of how violence and devotion can go hand in hand. Moreover, I did not want to miss my train. As I headed out of Calcutta, I also decided that it was just as well that I did not tell that man about what happened. He was clearly keen to establish the stone as deity. So the fact that the stone achieved precisely that status with no effort from him would – human nature being what it is – actually sadden him.

Part VII Months went by. When I returned to Calcutta, it was hard to recognize that old street corner. A small, shiny temple had come up. The sound of conch-shells made it hard to hear anything else and the crowds of devotees made it hard to walk. But more mysteriously, right in the middle of the melee, was that man, clad in saffron robes with loud vermillion marks on his forehead. ‘What is all this nonsense?’ I couldn’t help myself asking. ‘Sir, this humble servant is the main priest here.’ ‘I can see that. Nice way to get a free living. Was that the reason why you had your eyes set on the stone from that very day?’ He covered his ears with his palms. ‘Don’t say such things, please. What do you mean “stone”? This is

Vishnu; this is God. This is the great Trilokeshwar Shiva. I laughed and said, ‘And it is bottomless it seems.’ He looked hurt and said, ‘Well, that is what everybody says.’ ‘What do you say?’ I asked, irritated. ‘I know they say that no matter how far you dig, you will find the stone continues like the pipe of a deep tube well. What do you think?’ ‘What do I, humble soul, know? Maybe they are right.’ ‘Well,’ I said, ‘why don’t you dig one day and check for yourself how deep the roots go?’ He bit his tongue. ‘Don’t say such blasphemous things. The stone God will be angry. He is very powerful.’ ‘Powerful, my foot. What evidence do you have of his power may I ask?’ ‘Well, take small pox. As you know there is a lot of small pox raging in Calcutta these days; and vaccination is having no…’ ‘Are you serious?’ I cut him off; I had just returned and did not know there was small pox going around. ‘Well, you have to read the papers to know that people are dying in the droves. The city population has been conscientious in vaccinating people, yet people are dying everywhere. Everywhere that is, except in this locality. Here not one person has died. Moreover, none of us here have taken the vaccine. We are relying entirely on Lord Trilokeshwar’s holy water. If you still have no faith in the stone God’s power, you will have faith in nothing.’ I had no time to respond. I had earlier once got small pox and really suffered, and barely survived. ‘I am off,’ I told him, ‘I need to get myself vaccinated immediately. We’ll chat another day.’ And I set out straight for Calcutta’s famous Medical College. On the way, I ran into a friend. ‘Where are you off to in such a huff?’ he asked. ‘To get myself vaccinated.’ ‘Well, I am not sure that is of much use. The small pox vaccine is not helping much this time. I would frankly recommend homeopathy. Go straightaway to King & Co. and buy yourself variolinum, strength 200. Have one dose right away, if you want to survive.

RACONTEUR Next week, one more dose; and the week after, another. That’s it; you will have no further worries. Vaccine failing, we see all year around. Variolinum? Never.’ ‘Really? I didn’t know this.’ ‘How will you know?’, my friend said, dismissively, ‘your only faith is in modern medicine, injections and surgery. I have recently started practising homeopathy; so I know what it can do.’ ‘Well, let me try your advice.’ I went to King & Co., downed a dose of variolinum 200, and began feeling much better. But then just two or three dead bodies on stretches went past me. I felt certain they had died of small pox. I got the shivers. There must be hundreds of thousands of viruses in the air. I doubted my variolinum 200 would able to withstand the onslaught. As I stood there, feeling breathless and weak, I noticed a bill stuck on the roadside wall, advertising an ayurvedic medicine man. I have taken homeopathic medicine, fine; but why not bolster it with ayurveda, I thought. On arrival at the ayurved’s home, I saw several of his helpers grinding some strange substance using an enormous pestle. After I explained to him about my condition, the ayurved signalled to the substance being prepared. ‘Roots,’ he said. And then added, ‘of sacred plants. One dose will fully fortify you against small pox.’ I took the dose, as advised, and got onto a rickshaw home. I did not feel well at all. My head felt light and I felt mildly feverish. What made matters worse was that I seemed to recall reading somewhere that these exactly the symptoms that appeared before the onset of the pox. On returning home I told my mother I wouldn’t eat anything. ‘I am not feeling too well.’ Mother looked concerned, ‘Why what’s happened?’ ‘Nothing has happened…yet…I am…I think…coming down with small pox.’ ‘Don’t even say that. Nothing like that will happen to you. Just tie this amulet on your arm and you will be fine. I have had this for thirty years. And I have been with so many patients and cared for dying human beings. Not only have I ever had pox, I don’t even get boils. Come wear this,’ she said firmly, taking off her amulet. ‘Thirty years, with no serious illness? Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Let me try it out. Though, given that the disease is quite advanced in me, I’ll probably need multiple amulets.’

mirror revealed faint signs of pox on my face. I called my mother and showed her faint pock marks. ‘Don’t make such a fuss,’ she said. ‘It’s an ordinary pimple.’ ‘Not a pimple. This is small pox.’ ‘Don’t use that word,’ mother berated me. ‘Sitting at home all day, you are imagining all kinds of things. Just go out and take a stroll.’ Strolling with such a worry in the head can be quite unpleasant. That man had said that they were all well by drinking the holy water. I wondered if I should try it as well. Who knows, there may be a perfectly good scientific explanation about that water having some substance in it that destroys virus. But that is unlikely, I thought. Maybe what is true is that mental courage wards off germs. And it is their faith that gives them mental courage. But, in that case, I realised I stood no real chance because I could no way muster up faith for that piece of stone. Instead of all this pointless brooding, I should have just gone and got myself vaccinated in the morning. I have read that, once vaccinated, even if one gets small pox, it takes a milder form and is typically not fatal. That was that. I decided to go forthwith to Calcutta Medical College. A little later, having taken my vaccination, I was returning home, past the peepul tree and the stone temple. And I wondered, maybe it is true, science cannot explain it all. Today I am alive and well, tomorrow…who knows…I may be down with small pox and dying. I remembered Shakespeare’s words addressed to Horatio. In this vast universe, with stars reaching into an endless void, how little we really know. No matter how much one swears by science, standing on the brink of our vast ignorance, one cannot but feel humility. Looking at the temple of Shri Trilokeshwar, I said in my mind, ‘You will forgive me for having troubled you, won’t you? You will save me from this epidemic, just this one time.’ I felt the little bump on my cheek. Is it a pimple or the start of small pox? There was clearly no time to hesitate any more. I prostrated myself on the ground, head on stone, and prayed, ‘Glory to Lord Trilokeshwar! Lord, please save me.’ Then, lowering my voice, I added, ‘Bom, bom.’ I got up and looked all around to see if anyone had seen me.

I tied the holy charm around my feet but did not feel well. My body felt warm and careful inspection in the

RACONTEUR

Xibalba by Vivek Shah Chapter 1 What do you do for a living? Work in a bank? Teach children? Stride about in huge corporate offices in pristine suits? Are you an artist? Do you write? Or do you indulge in darker side of human nature to put food on the table? Do you sell women from the villages to the men in the cities? Do you indulge in the narcotic trade? Do you take money from strangers to do jobs nobody else will? Do you kill people for the right price? Or worse, are you a bureaucrat? I only ask because I know your answer isn’t going to change the way I look at myself, I won’t grieve over the difference in the size of our wallets, I won’t feel envy as you drive your sleek and powerful Mercedes into the parking lot of a new high-rise in the heart of town and then take the elevator to a new house whose price could buy entire villages in the countryside. Or even if you don’t spend your spare time sucking on a silver spoon and are one of those on the lower rungs of society, I won’t feel sorry for you. You see, I don’t envy the rich because no matter how much money they have, what I do for a living everyday is much more interesting than anything they will ever do. I don’t pity the poor because what I do for a living is much more soul-wrenching than any pain they have ever felt due to the lack of access to the right kind of greenery. What I do for a living, is calculate how much time it would take for me to destroy a person, to ensure that every trace of each of their atoms, their hopes, their dreams and even their fears cease to exist, as they were. I work in a crematorium and I earn my bread by calculating

how much time each cadaver will take to turn into nothing but ashes and dust. Death. Death is what I do for a living. 3 hours. Today was another usual day at work. Two cadavers showed up. The first arrived at the crematorium just as I did, early at seven in the morning. He was a forty-year-old morbidly obese man. My guess is that it was his girth that killed him. ‘Huh, maybe all those advertisements about exercising and eating healthy aren’t the usual consumerist hype.’ His family had come to see him off, as the families always do. When they were done saying their final good-byes, they sent him my way. This is where I play my glorious part. I have to estimate how long the body will take to go from flesh and blood to ashes and cinders. The cadavers arrive on a trolley and I put them into the furnace, which I have named Xibalba. It’s named after the dying star that the ancient Mayans found in the night sky and thought it to be their underworld. It looks golden from Earth, but that’s because it’s wrapped in a nebula. Soon Xibalba will burst and from that starburst, a thousand new stars will be born. Of course, rebirth is not so much of an option for the occupants of its namesake, but I think the name becomes the furnace. Looking at the dead man, whom I had named Leviathan, I was sure he could not have been more than 5’10” and not less than 160 kgs; I allotted him a four and a half slot in Xibalba. Now for the main perk that comes along with this job. Whenever Xibalba is devouring her prey, I go to the Waiting Room and make up a story about the deceased and his family. Fabricating stories about people whom I’ve never met is almost exciting as burning them. 3 hours. Entering the room, I saw that Leviathan had a wife and two children, a girl and a boy. All three

RACONTEUR All three of them were perfectly healthy and not an ounce over-weight. Obviously, obesity didn’t run in the family, so I guess the reason for Leviathan’s physique was a sad family life where his wife was to be found in his neighbour’s bed and his children’s love for him was proportional to the depth of his pocket. He was into construction and made his money evicting slumdwellers from land he had bought at a throwaway price, erecting high-rises with opulent apartments and then selling these to the rich. The excess of money didn’t fill the abyss of lost love between him and his family and since then, everything was a comfort food. The last woman who had warmed his bed did so for the lust of gold rather than her lust of him. While I was constructing a tale for my first customer of the day, I tried to discern those relatives who were shedding crocodile tears and not to my surprise, most of them were. ‘Aah, so no one truly loved Leviathan, not even in his family.’ Most of them had stoic expressions on their faces and looked pained to be there, to give Leviathan even four and half hours of their time. ‘Well,’ I thought, as I turned away and headed back to the Furnace Room, ‘maybe no on else did, but at least Xibalba is giving him her undivided attention now.’ At the end of Leviathan’s allotted slot, I opened Xibalba’s jaws to peek inside and just as I expected, nothing remained. But Xibalba wasn’t done yet, at noon, the cadaver of a young woman arrived with a smaller entourage than Leviathan’s. She could not have seen more than twenty-five name-days and could not have been more than 5’1” and 50kgs; she wouldn’t take much of Xibalba’s time, two hours at the most. Unlike her predecessor, I could not immediately decide on the cause of death; but that was until they uncovered her body from under the white sheet. The coroner might have stitched it up and done his best to make it look inconspicuous, but there was no mistaking the inch and a half wide stab wound over her sternum. Her family was absent, but she was surrounded by a handful of friends. One of them, a beautiful girl of probably the same age as her, kissed her on the forehead before I put her into Xibalba. I named the girl Florentyna, a pretty name for a pretty thing. Once Florentyna was within Xibalba’s embrace, I started weaving her life story.

Florentyna was a poet. She was studying medieval poetry and was on her way to publish her own anthology. She used to teach English at a finishing school to pay the bills. Things were going well for her; she had just rented out a new and bigger apartment and had just decided upon the cover for the book that would carry the anthology. She was unmarried but the girl who had kissed her goodbye was her lover. She had been the cause of her death. Her brother had caught her and Florentyna in a flagrante delicto. Enraged at seeing his sister defy the natural order, he had decided that if a man wouldn’t enter her, a knife would. He was now serving a life sentence and her parents appealed in higher courts for his release. Her friends more than made up for the lack of family, all of who loved her, regardless of her sexual preferences. She took a measly hour and forty-five minutes in Xibalba, and at the end, like always, nothing remained. She was the last customer of the day and once night fell, I left for home. 3 hours.

Chapter 2 People have always believed there is equality in death. They believe that you can go through life as a billionaire or his chauffeur, but in the end both of them are going to end up in the same place. People are comforted by the hope that once they are dead, they will be equal to their superiors. They take solace in the fact that they will be able to achieve in the afterlife, what they could never achieve in their present one. Sure, Xibalba is nicer than most people. She won’t treat you any differently whether you were white or black, rich or poor, educated or illiterate, young or old, but Xibalba does not cover all aspects of dying. She doesn’t determine how a person will be remembered; that is determined by the people who still walk the Earth. The inequality of life continues into the afterlife and as it always happens, every dead person is remembered in the way in which they lived their life. Since the way a person lived their life depends on their position in the food chain of the human society, the notion that the only sweetness death brings is equality is not only fallacious but also ironic, as death treats everyone as equally as their life treated them. Equality is anarchy after all; neither life nor death will assure you any semblance of equal standing with the rest of humanity. In both life and death, people have always needed their gods and demons. The simultaneous need to look up to

RACONTEUR Type to enter textto someone and look down upon someone else is inherent to human nature. People are always fighting for equality, but they won’t know what to do once they get it because they won’t be able to compare themselves to anyone else anymore. And yet, people crave for the equality they think death will give them. But I have seen enough cadavers and families to know that equality is an illusion, something that can never be achieved. We are destined to go through life stuck in our pigeonholes. The best we can hope for is that Xibalba treats us lovingly once our time is up.

3 hours.

Chapter 3 I knew today would bring with it the black rain. It always rained black when I had that dream. I had the dream when I was twelve. The next day my brother was raped and murdered by men from his rival gang, and it rained black. I had that dream when I was twenty-three. The next day my husband strangled our daughter and cut his own throat, and it rained black. I had that dream when I was thirty-seven. The next day my house and everything I owned burned down in an electric fire and it rained black. I had that dream last night. Today Xibalba was melted down and sold for scrap after the sale of the crematorium, and it rains black. It has been seven years since I’ve met Xibalba now, I keep her purring and she runs in perfect condition. In these seven years, I’ve fed her a total of five thousand, seven hundred and forty two cadavers. I have weaved a story for each of them and stored each of these stories in this diary. This diary is as much of me as I am. It has the same thoughts as me, the only difference is that this diary does not live and breathe as I do. This diary helps me keep my sanity. It is the voice for all of the five thousand, seven hundred and forty two of Xibalba’s friends. This diary contains everyone from the bicycle boy Frank to old aunt Merida, from Timothy, who was valedictorian of his class, to Susanna the prostitute, from drug peddler Jones to Mary Ann, a bartender. It even includes army cadet Jack, newsman Richard and 4 year old Amelia who loved playing with her dolls and braiding their hair. It finally ends with Leviathan and Florentyna. I headed to Mr. Dawson’s office, the owner and manager of the crematorium. He spoke to me kindly, told me that I would get a month’s pay while I looked for another job. He seemed to

think that unemployment was my biggest problem. ‘Why did you melt Xibalba?’ I said through a clenched mouth. ‘Xi-what now, son?’ ‘Xibalba. The furnace. Why did you melt Xibalba?’ ‘Well, keeping that junk of metal wouldn’t do anyone any good now, would it? Sold it to Mr. Cribland around the corner, and made my self a tidy little sum.’ ‘You had no right to sell her.’ ‘Her? It was just a furnace, son.’ ‘No she wasn’t. She was Xibalba. My Xibalba. You had no right to sell her.’ ‘Look here now; you have a month’s severance pay. Stop talking like a lunatic and leave my office.’ He still thought the money was my problem. He would learn.

Chapter 4 I had that dream again last night. It has always been the same. I’m dead. The how, why or where of it has never mattered, all I know is that in that dream, I’ve ceased to live. Lying down on my back, paralyzed by rigor mortis, I’m awaiting something. Maybe it is what the Christians call Judgement Day, what the Hindus call rebirth or what the Muslims call jannat. As I’m waiting, I enter this tiny cave with walls too straight and smooth to be natural. Though it is cramped and feels like the inside of an oven, it feels oddly familiar.I feel like a child wrapped up in its mother’s arms; except it feels like the mother is going to strangle the child. A red glow shines into my eyes. It seems to be coming from the walls, like they’re emanating heat.A claustrophobic, dark place, with red flames? Afterlife seems like a cliché. The red of the wall starts deepening, then it turns to orange, and then to yellow.

ALUMNI VOICE

Law School and Its Aftermath - Nipun Saxena (NLUD â&#x20AC;&#x2122;15)

How life has been after the B.A., LL.B. (Hons.)

When I was called upon to pen down my

the image of the institution: that one line

thoughts for the current issue of AAP, I being an enthu cutlet decided to undertake the task, knowing very little about how onerous an exercise it would eventually

by Late Professor Ghanshyam Singh which is still etched in my memory.

turn out to be. Truth be told, I was not one of the top rankers, nor was I an ardent debater during my days, (albeit I did lock horns with my well known roommate Rahul Seth on almost an hourly basis in the hostel corridors, which compensated for the lack of exposure) so those aspiring to be in Magic Circle need not strain their eyes any further. Speaking as one of the founding batches, we had a proprietary interest over everything inside the campus, which in our later years inculcated a sense of responsibility towards the institution. Your identity as a student is reflective of

Making an exit from the protection and safety of the four walls of the institution and out into the big bad world was as realistic as Oliwer Wendell Homes himself, in as much as you had to go through the gruelling experience. Citing a wrong precedent or an incorrect proposition before a Judge had real life consequences against your client: dismissal of a suit, which could result in demolition of his property. It was then that you realize that there is no second chance, there are no repeats or special repeats when you face the Bench; and there is no greater joy than convincing a seemingly hostile bench, and securing relief for your client, which to my mind is reliving the joy of winning a Moot Court

ALUMNI VOICE and over again. This made me realize that all this while law school was prepping you to face the real world. Life after law School has been extremely rewarding, both professionally and personally. Watching your colleagues appear, argue and assist in high profile matters fills you with pride. Watching your juniors take up the robes, running after seniors, and exchanging polite smiles while so doing, makes you feel at home. Or closing major deals in a corporate environment, engaging and seeking counsel of your friends over guava juice sessions becomes a routine task. The transition from the hostel days of the Old Monk to Glengoyne Highland is very smooth indeed. Add to that the joy of arguing outstation cases, and striking an excellent work - life balance is simply beautiful. The sheer diversity of matters in which you appear or are engaged is baffling. Personally speaking, I had the good fortune of appearing in different cases across different tribunals, District Courts, High Court and the Supreme Court. The amount of confidence that it has given me is unparalleled. The common denominator however is an excellent command over the scheme of the statute, an understanding of authorities, their precedential value, and a keen eye for detail. For a student, every subject that you study has relevance, specially interdisciplinary approach to solving a problem: Say for instance, a Tort Principle of Quantification of Damages b e i n g Tr a n s p o s e d o f f i n a M a r i n e Insurance Contract Claim, which is a subject matter of International

Commercial Arbitration award, to be enforced by taking recourse to Attachment Proceedings, which in turn becomes a subject matter of challenge before the Supreme Court to be prepared and argued in less than 2 days is as challenging as it gets. The command over procedural subjects is quintessential for the purposes of specializing in litigation. The concepts have to be on the finger tips, because no Judge will give you the time to open your book on a purely procedural question. Most importantly, cultivate your own thought process. That holds equally true for life as well as in your professional approach. Do not be a stooge to someoneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s opinion just because it is cool or others are doing so, or the chap holds a fancy degree from some college. Use your own head, and develop your own analytical ability. You also realize that the only way in which you can grow in this profession is to grow together as a batch and as an institution, and by not giving in to frivolous insecurities. There is a reason why most of the Counsels from the founding batches of NLSIU hold the field in this country. They inculcated a habit of referring matters to their colleagues, helping their juniors and securing their placement which to this date continues: a habit which must be emulated by the current batches of the college, given the locational advantage that the institution already enjoys. Lastly, cherish the days that you spend here, for these moments will bring a smile on your face when you feel lost or confused.

FILM AND TV

Alice in Wonderland Suniti Sampat

FILM AND TV “Have I gone Mad?” he asks, all wide-eyed. She

had. I loved the fact that this movie celebrated a

gently touches his forehead, all concern, then goes

girl’s choice to turn down an oﬀer of

on to remark, “I am afraid so. You are entirely

marriage with a Lord, whom she had no

bonkers. But I’ll tell you a secret. All the best

inclination to marry, even in a society

people are.” If there was a dialogue or moment

which considered it highly inappropriate. I

which captured the essence of this delightful film,

realized how bold and defiant her choice was

it was this exchange between the Mad-hatter and

for the milieu she lived in. Our Alice

Alice. There are some movies that impact you the

chose to venture out to sea instead, and

first time you watch them. Then there are others

to fulfil her late father’s legacy.

that grow on you slowly, stumping you with their

In my imagination, Wonderland was her

depth. I was sixteen years old when I first watched

escape from the patriarchal world she inhabited.

Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland. To say the least, I wasn’t really

white and red witch had rescued

impressed. I found it to be

this girl in so many diﬀerent ways

immature and childish and

and emboldened her to face a world

thought that it catered mainly

where wealth and rank held

to children.

precedence over character and virtue.

Out of boredom, I did watch this movie again on television.

When Alice did slay the Jabberwocky, we knew she had won over someone and

However, this time it was a diﬀerent

something more than the red witch. It

experience. I discovered a number of

symbolised freedom from a tyrannical

metaphors hidden behind the

world where those with muscle power

madness. I saw something beyond

oppressed the meek and feeble.

Alice’s awkwardness and general

Special mention must be made

inability to make rational

of Helena Carter, who

decisions, I saw a brave girl faced

The absurd yet beautiful world of the

essayed the role of the red

with diﬃcult choices. Here was a girl willing to

queen. The irascible red queen was

break societal norms, and mind you, pay a price for

one of my favourite characters of this

her feminist choices. The aﬀectionate and adorably

film as Carter portrayed both the

platonic relationship that Alice shared with the

vulnerable and diabolical side of this

Mad Hatter went perfectly well with the spirit of

character with what looked like

the film. Depp essayed the role of the nutty Mad

considerable ease. In a way, she is

Hatter with perfection, playing friend and guide to

caged in a world where she is

the awkward, yet lovely Alice.

constantly manipulated by those

Burton has attempted a sequel to Caroll’s Alice in

who take advantage of her

Wonderland, and has managed to create a world

vulnerability. An example of this

just as fascinating, only this time, the nineteen-year

is the fact that all the ladies and

old protagonist is faced with newer challenges. As

gentlemen of her court fake disproportionate

an eighteen-year old, I saw this movie with a

body parts in order to gain her merit, as they know

diﬀerent perspective than the sixteen year old me

that the red queen favours people with

LITERATURE

Beneath the Marble Sky by John Shors reviewed by Shuchita Goel “My love… will you grant me favors?” Father could only nod. The power of speech seemed to have left him… “Build me something… something beautiful. And visit my tomb… on the anniversary of my death.” “I shall,” he said, weeping like a child. She seemed to gulp for air. “Let me die… touching you.” Her lips quivered, but no sound came forth. He held her long and soon she did not stir. We cried together.

And the sky wept with us. Many tales have been crafted about the Mughal Empire; of its beauty, its wealth, its people and its kings. However, seldom have I come across as aching a narration as that of the life of Mughal princess Jahanara Begum, daughter of Emperor Shah Jahan and Empress Arjumand Bano Begum (more familiarly known as Mumtaz Mahal), as recounted by John Shors in Beneath a Marble Sky. The novel, though historical fiction, is loosely based on the construction of the Taj Mahal, a mausoleum commissioned by Shah Jahan in memory of Mumtaz Mahal, and the furtive romance that blossomed between its celebrated architect and the imperial princess. The novel is constructed in the form of a conversation between Jahanara and her granddaughters, Gulbadan and Rurayya, wherein she slowly reveals to them that she is not the humble fisherwoman they thought she was; she explains their descent, and the need for deceit, to protect them from the machinations of the Emperor Alamgir (formerly Aurangzeb). The story, though a reflection of the diﬀerent phases in Jahanara’s quest to replicate the passionate love her parents felt for each other in her own life, is nonetheless a dark one, filled with misery and the murky politics of the Mughal Court. Jahanara’s early life revolved around her mother, elder brother, Dara Shikoh, crown prince of the Mughal Empire; and younger brother, Aurangzeb. Jahanara’s life in the harem would have constricted her naturally inquisitive and buoyant personality, had it not been for her progressive and influential mother, who thought little of conforming to traditional gender roles, and played an active part in ruling the Empire along with her husband, providing advice that proved invaluable . Shors details her journey into womanhood, her marriage to a man she loathed and sets the tone for the tragedy of her mother’s death. Inconsolable, the Emperor’s sorrow, and the decay of his Empire makes the time ripe for Aurangzeb to grab the throne and execute his revenge on a family that seemingly excluded him. “What happened, Jaha,” Gulbadan asks quietly, “after she died?” “My father locked himself in a small room and wouldn’t show himself to anyone. He emerged [two weeks later] from that room a changed man. Part of him was broken and he would never love again.”

LITERATURE “But then he began to build,” Gulbadan oﬀers. “Yes”, I reply and my mind sweetens. “To build a monument fit for his love, he called upon the Empire’s greatest architect, a young man who could transform jade into flowers, marble into paradise.” “And who was he?” “Isa. Isa was everything.” Shors goes on to elaborate the illicit romance that sprung up between Ustad Isa, the Taj’s architect and Jahanara, who was appointed as his assistant to oversee the construction of the Taj. The kind and gentle man who makes overtures to her under the moonlight is a welcome change from the lifeless existence that had overtaken her after marriage. Shors describes the pain she undergoes as she is subjected to physical and mental torture by her husband who rapes her every night, and how she seeks comfort and love in the arms of another. It brings to life the dark undercurrents that ran deep beneath the façade of power and glory that Shah Jahan’s era represented. The princess, whose participation in mainstream history is relegated to the construction of the Chandni Chowk, is revealed to be a cunning diplomat, a loving mother and a fierce lover, but perhaps most clearly, a comprehensively fleshed out character. Shors has left no stone unturned in his quest to understand her. He doesn’t paint his main character as someone who is morally upright, righteous and primarily a good person, as most novelists are apt to do. Her motivations stems from duty rather than love; she is a character of fleshand-blood, one who feels intense fear and intense passion, one who is as capable of secretly ordering the murder of “The princess, whose one brother as she is of laying down her life for another. participation in mainstream She is morally upright , but neither is she a socially history is relegated to the condemned sinner; rather her personality and construction of the Chandni motivations, as portrayed, lies on a spectrum completely Chowk, is revealed to be a in tune with Mughal society’s socio-historical context.

cunning diplomat, a loving This is a great read for somebody interested in mother and a fierce lover.” acquainting themselves with a previously unexplored recess in Mughal history or viewing Mughal society through the lens of a oxymoronic character ; a royal princess, privileged through her economic status yet lacking agency because of social and familial restraints. Duty, love and power are themes interwoven with the protagonist’s status and her determination to exercise choice in a time when women were discriminated against actively, as well as through insidious power structures. The best aspect of this novel is how compelling the narration is as it allows one to freely associate themselves with particular aspects of its characters, The emotional exhaustion I felt upon completion of the novel only rivals a few other books which I hold in high esteem. The only criticism I have to oﬀer is that the novel contains several minor historical inaccuracies. However, its characterization as fiction is thankfully unpretentious, and at no point did I feel that it was an arduous read (perhaps because of the romaticisation of certain facts) or undeserving of my time. My opinion? You should definitely give it a shot . I’d like to leave you with an extract from the book that, in my opinion, captures how resilient Jahanara was. “Will you come to me, in my dreams?” Even if no answer is oﬀered, I know he shall. Allah might have taken Isa’s body, but he isn’t truly gone… Many fear death. But I do not. For I’ve tasted this oneness we call love. Death cannot steal it. Nor temper it. No, I’ll take my love with me, wherever I travel. And it shall endure.

LITERATURE

BOOK REVIEW

This Unquiet Land: Stories From India’s Fault Lines by Barkha Dutt Release Date/Month: December 2015 Publisher: Aleph Book Company Reviewed by: Siddharth Gupta Barkha Dutt’s book discusses historic moments from her life as a reporter, and how they have influenced her. Journalism has a penchant for mainstream narratives, and rarely tries to address the other side of the debate. However, Barkha Dutt is one of a handful of journalists who has often transcended the border between the two sides, and has given mainstream reportage a depth it unfortunately lacked. This Unquiet Land is essentially a reflection in retrospect by Barkha Dutt on the ground reality she experienced in her nearly 25 year career. At the same time, however, it provides critical commentary on the fractures that have put India in a cast. This is Barkha’s first book, and that fact is bluntly obvious. Despite having a flair for words, the narration and flow of the book is scattered and open-ended. Several important issues are raised, discussed, dissected and analysed by her, but cumulatively, the book fails to make a point except for a reiteration of the status quo, i.e. the dark yet colourful paradox that is India. That being said, the contents of the book is riveting. Covering a wide spectrum of issues that the country was confronted with, she does a stellar job hitting the right nerves at every required instance. On numerous instances, the book talks about unique anecdotes and incidents from Barkha’s life as a reporter, and how the same influenced her, changed her or forced her to think beyond the theoretical jargon one graduates with. To be fair, the book also acts as Barkha’s venting zone, as she tried to subtly include replies to certain allegations against her as a part of India’s narrative on major issues; the subtlety was lost, however, in the harsh barrage of words against her detractors. These uncontextualised rants, I felt, let the book down; a book claiming to explore India’s fractured lines has no context for replying to accusations and allegations which are personal to the author. Overall, I must say that I was disappointed. In sum, the book is average at best, but perhaps I had come to expect more from one of the better journalists in the country, who has often also written scathing columns along the same subject matter the book revolved around. This is not a book that you have to read, but it definitely is one that you should read for a rude shock about what India really is.

LITERATURE

UMBERTO ECO by Alok Gokhale On viewing pictures of Umberto Eco’s funeral at Sforza Castle in Milan one could be forgiven for thinking that it was the death of some beloved public leader or religious figurehead being mourned by hundreds of weeping people. However, Umberto Eco was a philosopher, semiotician and a writer of extremely dense fiction with a habit of infusing his work with obscure symbolism. Umberto Eco shot to fame with his 1980’s bestseller, The Name of the Rose: a murder mystery set in a 14th century Monastery. The novel did not pull back on complexity; Eco spared no pains to ensure utmost historical accuracy. Furthermore, he let his experience in semiotics (the study of the use and philosophy of symbols) subtly suffuse his work. His novel might seem like the kind of books that die after the first print run but this medieval mystery has sold nearly 50 million copies till date. In life as in death, the popularity of his work and persona, despite its complexity, is a paradox. Despite The Name of the Rose being his best known work, Eco’s true genius comes out in his

next novel Foucault’s Pendulum. However, it is nowhere considered as commercially successful or critically acclaimed as its predecessor. Foucault’s Pendulum was an “ancient conspiracy” mystery before The Da Vinci Code was as much as a distant gleam in Dan Brown’s eyes. It tells the story of four half mad editors who work in a dingy publishing house that primarily deals with books of the supernatural and the occult. On a lark, they start hatching a conspiracy with the conspiracy theories that their writers submit to them. However, the conspiracy they created soon starts taking over. Whether this ancient conspiracy was merely a figment of the mentally damaged protagonist’s imagination is never made clear. With his command over history and symbolism, Eco could have made an accessible novel like Dan Brown did albeit with far better characterisation. Instead, he makes the story a powerful metaphor for an existential question: Is our search for meaning in a meaningless world futile or are there actually concrete answers out there if we look hard enough? This, in short, was the greatness of Umberto Eco’s writing: the refusal to essentialize and stick by tropes and archetypes. In The Name of the Rose, the murderer is found by accident and not by the grand theorising of the detective and the ultimate secret in Foucault’s Pendulum is never made clear as it is left open to interpretation. His novels were never limited in scope and sometimes introduced as many imaginary elements as an author of pure fa nta s y. In Baudolino, he invents an Asia that only existed in the imaginations of medieval Europeans with flying gryphons and fictional Christian kings in Mongolia. He was no armchair academic either and often led public protests and r a l l i e s t h o u s a n d s s t ro n g against the excesses of the Berlusconi government. His love of semiotics infused his work with a sense of authenticity. Eco always explored deeply how humans make symbols to impose order on the madness of the world around them and are in turn shaped by the symbols they make. But unlike other authors, he didn’t let his love for an obscure field of study interfere with his story telling. In addition, Bologna University was one of the most sought after in the world where he analysed the effects of Marlyn Monroe pictures with equal pizzazz.

MUSIC

IN CONVERSATION WITH

FARIDKOT

How and when did the idea of starting the band come about? Where did you all meet? We met through the Delhi music scene. Each of us was performing with different artists. IP and I mainly write the music and then we take it to the others who add their own touch to the songs. What has made Faridkot distinctive? And how would you like to describe Confused Pop? We’re not sure what exactly makes us distinctive but we like to try our hand at all kinds of music. It may range from folk to hip-hop. We don’t like to pre-determine what music we’re going to be making. We love to go with the flow. It all depends on what is inspiring us to write at any moment. This could range from listening to a new artist or seeing a new painting to eating some great breakfast! This is the reason we decided to call the genre confused pop. It is said that the time is ripe for independent music in India? What do you have to say? We totally agree with that. In the last 7-8 years, the independent music scene in India has blossomed. So many musicians have started writing their own music and there’s no dearth of talent in the city. And the talent is being nurtured by the abundance of live shows that are happening around the country. Even though we feel that it’s going to take a while, the general audience has just about started to warm up to the idea of live music which is not only inspired by purely native forms like classical music. Who are the artists that inspire you? This is a tough one to answer. We’re inspired by so many forms of art, not just music. We love painters, dancers, film-makers, actors. All these can be very inspiring depending on the practitioner. For example, for us, Naseeruddin Shah’s acting is as inspiring as Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan’s singing. What is your favourite playlist like? We’ve been listening to all kinds of music over the years. Currently, we’re listening to Kendrick Lamar, Flying Lotus, Tame Impala, Chemical Brothers, Shakti. How well do you think women are represented in the Indian music scene? We think women are doing great in the Indian scene. We don’t feel that there’s any kind of gender bias in the independent scene. The women are doing as well as, if not better than, the men. Nusicians like Tipriti (Soulmate), Nonica Dogra, Subhadra Kamath(Yellow bucket) are some great examples.

FOOD TALK

The narration of this tale makes me wonder how many times I’ve experienced serendipity. Irrespective, I’m sure fortunate accidents happen with everyone. For me, it occurred one extremely hot afternoon when I waited for 30 minutes outside a restaurant in North Campus to get a table. I wasn’t keen on waiting but my cousin assured me that their food was great. And so, we waited. And waited… …and waited… I did everything- including taking a bunch of worthless selfies, strolling on the footpath, and even overhearing other people debate about what kind of quadrilateral the door of the restaurant was. It was disheartening to see that some people did not take their middle school geometry seriously. “It’s a trapezium!” I sighed. We finally got a table, but I was in no mood to eat. I was about to declare it a bad day officially but my musings were interrupted by the arrival of a waiter who got us a wooden menu card (also a trapezium. What was with this place and all the damn trapeziums, anyway?). Among the few dishes that we ordered, “baked nachos” was one . I assumed it would be just another side dish. Little did I know. The presentation of the dish gives you no hint of what lies ahead. It drives away all health freaks with the amount of cheese it is topped with. Others may roll their eyes wondering why it looks more Italian than Mexican. However, when hunger takes over, you put a halt to your train of thought and suddenly turn in favour of attacking the nachos with your bare hands. And when the cheese causes an explosion in your mouth, you realise that there’s a firecracker on your plate. You and your friends embrace the silence around you as engaging in conversation would act as a hindrance to the entire experience. Ingredients like corn and olives hide within the layers of nachos, allowing them to steal the show while simultaneously expressing themselves with subtlety. You realise that the time gap between pulling out a part of the dish and putting it in your mouth is progressively reducing. Your mind eliminates the memories of lasagne and cheese-burst pizza to make space for this newly discovered wonder-dish. You soon realise that your fingers are loaded with cheese, but you are so busy eating that you don’t want to reach out for a paper napkin. Yes, it is messy. No, you do not care. Yes, you will go back there again. And no, you still won’t care. In this moment, you know you are bakednachoed. No other dish on that table will ever matter to you as much. You will return home as content as a child having experienced the joy of opening presents on Christmas day. A level of contentment that makes even the thirty minute torture and test of patience outside the restaurant (in the extreme Delhi weather, I must add) worth it. You get the fairy tale ending that you have always wanted.

THE

CURIOUS

CASE

THE

BAKED

NACHOs

Marilyn Joanna Khakha

A tale of unexpected experiences, Marilyn Joanna Khakha reminds us about the magical relationship that exists between humans and their favourite foods, and the comfort that a good dish can bring. Never doubt the healing powers of brilliant food, my friends.

ART AND IDEAS

Art Around the Corner Street Art in Delhi Aakanksha Bhardwaj 45

ART AND IDEAS In terms of staking claim to public spaces, India has come a long way from scratching initials and love notes on public monuments to socially relevant graﬃti, murals and other relevant forms of street art that speak of identity, aspirations and a young, creatively inspired generation that isn’t afraid to take risks and speak its mind.

Interestingly, young people from small towns are also taking to tagging and graﬃti. The simplicity of the format is partially responsible. The fact that the younger generation wishes to speak up and create their own identities is another. It acts as a creative way to stand up against corrupt governance.

Tyler’s street art in In unorthodox public spaces, Delhi, titled ‘Our “ India has come a long way despite numerous hurdles, success is a Lie’ from scratching initials and street artist groups like which shows a Hulchul and Bind Boys, dead child love notes on public graﬃti artists like Zine and surrounded by monuments to socially Daku, have been taking art media persons is away from galleries and relevant graffiti, murals and extremely moving. museums and splashing it other relevant forms of street H i s w o r k i s onto city walls. Artists like simultaneously art that speak of identity, Hash Raman and Anpu charming and Varkey from Delhi, Punedisillusioned aspirations.” based Inkbrushnme, Yantr conveying his from Guwahati, and Tyler response to world and Ranjit Dahar are others leading the change. events and capitalism through his work. Among foreign artists, Bond and Tona from “KINDNESS IS FREE” declares a piece that he’s Germany have left their mark all over India from the snug onto a wall in Mumbai. But like most good monasteries of Ladakh to the streets of Kochi in things that come with capitalism, an asterisk adds, Kerala. “India is beautiful, and full of colour, but ‘Oﬀer valid till stock lasts’. Similarly, DaKu’s work somehow our streets never reflect that, but are aims at coercing thought and response about the times we live in. The work that he has done in Hauz Khas in collaboration with young artists makes for an attractive piece. He reacted to the construction of upmarket malls and hotels in Delhi across the road from fairly low-income Khirkee Extension by covering garbage receptacles with the Devanagari letters ‘Da’ and ‘Ku’ in the format of a luxury fashion brand, Louis Vuitton, spelling ‘KuDa’, the Hindi word for garbage.

instead plastered with posters and advertising of all sorts. We want to change that” says Guilia Ambrogi. These artists talk about everything from pollution levels in Delhi to feminist issues, Bollywood dreams to politics and simple artistic interventions to add beauty to peoples’ daily commute using striking aerosol artworks.

St+art festival founders hand-painted a poem called ‘Chardwari’ (Four Walls) by a female inmate on a 960 metre façade facing public spaces. It is the longest mural in India. The poem talks about the longing and melancholy felt by those living inside the confined walls of Tihar. They also taught the jail inmates to express themselves through art and decorated parts of the prison complex and their cells. “Street art has an entirely diﬀerent perspective on art. The art world is unapproachable for the common man. In a gallery the intention is to go and see art. However in public spaces, such as

ART AND IDEAS Shahpur Jat, the art comes to you. It takes you by surprise and the impact is greater when you are not prepared. The street is a democratic medium. The space always comes first and this diﬀerentiates street art from other art,” stated Hanif Qureshi, talking about the artwork done in Shahpur Jat in 2014, where The Cat with the Woollen Yarn by Anpu Varkey has become a local landmark.

At times, the only intention is to create captivating artworks for the passerby like Mahatma Gandhi’s magnificent mural on the walls of Delhi Police Headquarters by Hendrik Beikirch and Anpu Varkey. Stencils made by ‘Guess Who’ across Bangalore and Kochi have garnered appreciation as well as have the numerous murals of Bollywood stars plastered in Mumbai.

Artist Jas Charanjiva’s break-out piece ‘Don’t mess with me’ created in response to the December 16 ‘Nirbhaya’ case found resonance with its audience. Shilo Suleiman is another artist who uses street art to speak up for women’s rights. Her brainchild, the Fearless Collective continues to grow as she collaborates with women from all walks of life to make murals of what makes them feel empowered. Contemporary artist Shilpa Gupta’s installation 'I Live Under Your Sky Too' garnered a lot of attention as well.

Street art in India has started finding takers within fine-arts spaces as well. The Kochi-Muzris Biennale, regularly features Indian street art, from the quirky to the dissenting. Though considered to be urban blight by some, these cultural artefacts are being lauded in documentary films.

Often, these artists help in creating a positive social impact through their work, reminding us to contribute in different ways to make society better as is evident in the many works done in support of ‘Swatchh Bharat Abhiyaan’ or by making us ponder on what we need to change. Horus’s work in Defence Colony, Delhi titled ‘GARB AGE’, is a subtle take on consumerism and its effect on the world around us, showing how the increased levels of pollution in the world is having an adverse effect on nature and animals that reside in it.

“Imagine a city where graﬃti wasn’t illegal, a city where everybody could draw whatever they liked. Where every street was awash with a million colours and little phrases. Where standing at a bus stop was never boring. A city that felt like a party where everyone was invited, not just the barons of big businesses. Imagine a city like that and stop leaning against the wall – it’s wet!” says Bansky, one of the most renowned street artists in the world. Though it might be a while before street artists in India can create artworks as marvelous as that of Bansky’s, but with continued organized eﬀorts at beautifying our cities and a younger generation of artists who simply want to be heard, the art form is here to stay and transform city walls with dynamic eye-catching visuals, injecting drab roadsides with a renewed vigour. Photo Courtesy: Vered Lalrinpuii

ART AND IDEAS

Paper Quilling Earrings Gowri Reghunath Things you will need:  1. Paper quilling strips of any colour  2. A quilling tool  3. Glue  4. Scissors  5. Two earring hooks  6. Two jump rings  7. A round-tipped plier

Step 1. Take 3-4 quilling strips and hold them together (the more strips you use, the bigger your earring would be) and insert them into the tip of the quilling tool.

Step 2. Roll the quilling tool so that the quilling strips get wrapped around the tip of the tool.

Keep rolling until you get the desired size.

Step 5: Once you get the desired shape, apply some glue on the inner surface of the hemisphere

Continue to push until the quilled strips take a hemispherical shape. (Instead of using your thumb, you can use the hemispherical surface of a measuring spoon, or any other object to get the desired shape).

Step 4: The quilled strips would now be in the shape of a disc, hold the disc with both your hands, and use your thumbs to press the centre of the disc outwards.

Step 3: Apply some glue on the ends of the quilling strips and stick them.

ART AND IDEAS Spread the glue with your finger, this can be a little messy!

Step 6: While the paperquilled hemisphere dries, prepare the hook of the earring. Take a jump ring, and hold it with both your hands, with the open side facing in your direction.

Pull one end of the jump ring towards you, and the other away from you, to open the ring.

Step 7: Take an earring hook, and pull the loop at the end of the hook through one end of the jump ring.

The earring hook would now have the jump ring dangling at one end.

Insert the strip into the jump ring attached to the earring hook and roll it to make a small loop.

Apply some glue at the tip of the strip, and stick it to the loop.

Your earring is ready! Make another one to complete one pair.

TRAVEL

In Nature’s Pocket Padma Venkatraman, a travel enthusiast, describes a mesmerising panorama of the Ngorongoro Crater in Tanzania that she stumbled upon during her journey in Africa.

A slight drizzle taps you gently making you put on a raincoat. It’s that type of rain that will never turn into a downpour but you know will last the whole day. The streaks of water blur your vision, but you don’t register this as a smell hits you first. Seems like the wet soil, the grass, the cold air and the altitude have plotted together to create a heady scent – one that makes you feel like you’ve entered a magical world. Light, parrot, bottle, dark – all the possible greens have been brought to life vividly by the water, and the trees stand taller and more numerous than anywhere else in the region. A hazy bluish – grey shine draws your attention to the small lake in the middle that thrives on this season. The barely visible mountains encircling you make you feel trapped, even though they’re far away. But strangely, you welcome this; you would gladly stay here forever. This is an Africa you’ve never seen. The Ngorongoro Crater is part of the larger Ngorongoro Conservation Area that has been inhabited for 3 million years. Loosely translated to mean the Gift of Life, this crater covers around 260 sq. kilometres and was formed by what is now the world’s largest inactive volcano. Lake Magadi is situated right in the centre, and attracts hundreds of bright pink flamingos that form a ring around the lake. Some say that the mountain, had it not caved,

might have been as tall as Kilimanjaro. With such a huge and wide base that makes it impossible to see the other end of the crater, this isn’t hard to believe. On the sides of the mountain, dense and lush forests grow thickly, as if to defiantly prove that wild Africa isn’t only what we have seen in The Lion King. Around 25,000 wild animals roam freely in the Conservation Area, of which many permanently live in the crater. Lone rhinos laze around and graze quietly (their sizes warding off any disturbance), while their lazier look-alikes, the Hippos, snort loudly and yawn to show off their lack of dental hygiene in the Lake. Lions sit peacefully; close their eyes to the 24x7 drizzle (characteristic of this season) and conveniently ignore the adventurous cubs climbing all over them. Few witness such tranquility, and the Maasai are one of them. A testament to the possible harmony between the wild and man, they live in small thatched huts and tend to cattle, sheep and goats, few hundred metres away from these magnificent creatures. Dressed in shades of red, black and brown, one would think they would be wary of attracting unwanted attention or appetites, but they too are carefree creatures of nature. Standing on the brink of the crater, on one side you can see rolling forests sloping down towards a mass of endless green, and on the other side is this hidden world of predators and prey. With fire underground and rain above, this unique crater is one you can’t forget.

Art Courtesy: Shambhavi Singh

TRAVEL

Bhargavi and her friend went backpacking in New Zealand and Australia. She discusses how they got the most out of their holiday with as little expenditure as possible. Last summer, I promised a school friend that if I managed to get a job, I would travel with her to Australia and New Zealand for seven weeks. Since we didn’t have a huge amount of money (we were both funding it from our internship money), we decided we were going to do the proper backpacker thing and try to achieve most out of the holiday with as little money as possible. So two months later, I have returned from the wilds of the Southern Hemisphere to share with you the wisdom I have gathered about travelling on a budget. Here are my tips: 1. Pack Light! This is especially relevant if you’re planning to take a lot of flights with budget airlines that will charge you a small fortune for any checked in baggage. We therefore decided to travel with hand luggage only – that is a maximum of 7kg, or the equivalent of a large laptop bag. It sounds crazy, but you can actually

travel indefinitely with as little as this (as long as you wash your entire wardrobe once a week). Proper trekking backpacks are deceptively small – apart from what I’m wearing in this picture, I actually managed to fit in enough clothes for a week, a sweater, a waterproof jacket, socks, a sunhat, essential toiletries, emergency medicine, 1 rupee washing powder sachets, mosquito repellent and a pair of sandals. I also cheated slightly and had a small sling bag with my wallet, phone, iPad (since I had no space for a laptop) and passport. This was enough to prepare for almost any weather we faced, although I have to say that if it had been much colder I wouldn’t have had enough warm clothes. A key investment is a microfiber or travel towel, because they are super absorbent and fold into a tiny square.

Walking into an international airport without

TRAVEL a suitcase does feel slightly odd, but the benefits of packing light soon outweigh this. When you land in a new city, for example, there’s no need to drag a heavy suitcase to your accommodation. Instead, you can get right to the business of sightseeing, with all your possessions on your back. I can also honestly say that I didn’t get too bored of the clothes I had, which was my only worry. The trick is to pack clothes that you both like, and are practical for whatever it is that you’ll be doing. 2. Work as you Travel My friend introduced me to a wonderful concept known as WWOOFing. This stands for World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms, and is essentially a bunch of countryspecific websites that link volunteers to hosts. The arrangement is that you work for 4-6 hours a day on an organic farm in return for food and accommodation. A true wwoofing experience, however, is just as much about the cultural exchange and friends you make by living with local families. I worked on a dairy farm on the North Island and a vineyard on the South Island in New Zealand, and had a great time getting to know both families. Most hosts will also appreciate that you’ve come to their neck of the woods to see the sights, and will often be able to recommend things that are more off the beaten track. Before signing up to a wwoofing website, however, check whether you need a working visa to wwoof in that country, as it’s classified differently in different places.

3. Camping If you feel like saving some extra cash on nightly accommodation, you could always rent or buy second hand camping gear, or even take it with you from home (although that would break the hand luggage only rule). We bought camping gear and then sold it second hand, making back more than half our costs. Campsites are also cheaper than hostels, and government-run ones, like the Department of Conservation managed ones in NZ, can generally be found for free or for only a nominal amount. Two things that will make your camping experience a fun adventure are foam sleeping mats or an air mattress (sleeping on the cold, hard ground is not glamorous) and a camping stove (neither is eating cold tinned beans and tuna with bread for dinner in a library parking lot because of the free WiFi). Also make sure that you’re prepared for the temperature drop at night; we had many a night in our tiny two-person tent sleeping in almost everything in our bags to try and stay warm. Lastly, be prepared to shower in some weird places if you can’t find cheap serviced campsites; I can now proudly say that I have showered at a community pool and an airport. There you have it folks. I hope some of you will be able to put this advice into practice and set off on your own adventure. It sounds corny, but just remember that this kind of travel will teach you as much about yourself as about the world, which is always something to be cherished. Happy travels!

Art Courtesy: Shambhavi Singh

THE WORKING CLASS Chief Editor Harshit Kohli

Editorial Board Aakanksha Bhardwaj Aditi Sharma Akansha Seth Akshat Srivastava Alok Gokhale Bhargavi Vadeyar Divyam Nandrajog Ishan Patnaik Pratyush Pandey Rangashree TK Shreya Upreti Siddharth Gupta Sonna Subbaiah Sriram Tania Singla Vanya Chhabra

Design Gowri Reghunath Mahima Singh Neil Shroff