Mahesh Bhupathi on managing Andy Murray
The Indian woman and that elusive orgasm
RS 35 5 au g u st 2 0 1 3
INSIDE “I don’t know what Socialism means” Amartya Sen l i f e
a n d
t i m e s .
e v e r y
w e e k
The Cash Transfer Mess A report from the Gandhis’ home constituencies of Raebareli and Amethi
Open Mail | editor@openmedianetwork.in Editor Manu Joseph managing Editor Rajesh Jha Deputy Editor Aresh Shirali Political Editor Hartosh Singh Bal creative director Divya Saxena Features and Sports Editor Akshay
shikha
Associate publisher Deepa Gopinath Associate general managers (advertisement) Rajeev Marwaha (North
It is quite amazing how Narendra Modi supporters crop up within minutes on internet sites insinuating anybody who says anything against him is either sold out to the Congress or anti-nationalist (‘The Modi Mythology’, 29 July 2013). I’ve seen this so many times that I wonder how many of them are just paid or how many are lumpen sitting and advocating Modi as a god for India because of their If Modi comes to power, own interests. They use even before him, his loud and cheap tactics stooges will silence and I have seen the same people write on all all voices of dissent, sites—perhaps somefascist style thing to do with Modi’s PR machinery again? This is happening when he’s not even in power—God help us if he comes anywhere close to it. If he does, even before him, his stooges will silence all voices of dissent, fascist style. letter of the week
National Head—Distribution and Sales
Imported Homophobia
Sawai
Senior Editors Kishore Seram, Haima Deshpande (Mumbai) Mumbai bureau chief Madhavankutty Pillai deputy political Editor Jatin Gandhi Books and Arts Editor Elizabeth Kuruvilla associate editors Dhirendra Kumar Jha, Rahul Pandita assistant editors
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and East), Karl Mistry (West), Krishnanand Nair (South) Manager—Marketing Raghav Chandrasekhar Ajay Gupta
regional heads—circulation D Charles
(South), Melvin George (West), Basab Ghosh (East) Head—production Maneesh Tyagi pre-press manager Sharad Tailang cfo Anil Bisht hEAD—it Hamendra Singh publisher
R Rajmohan
All rights reserved throughout the world. Reproduction in any manner is prohibited. Printed and published by R Rajmohan on behalf of the owner, Open Media Network Pvt Ltd. Printed at Thomson Press India Ltd., 18-35 Milestone, Delhi Mathura Road, Faridabad—121007, (Haryana). Published at 4, DDA Commercial Complex, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi-110017. Ph: (011) 30934199; Fax: (011) 30934162 To subscribe, sms ‘openmagazine’ to 56070 or log on to www.openthemagazine.com Or call our Toll Free Number 1800 300 22 000 or email at: subscription@openmedianetwork.in For corporate sales, email ajay@openmedianetwork.in For marketing alliances, email alliances@openmedianetwork.in For advertising, email advt@openmedianetwork.in
Volume 5 Issue 30 For the week 30 July—5 August 2013 Total No. of pages 64 + Covers cover photo Raul Irani
5 August 2013
i am not sure of my stance on the writer’s take on why India’s LGBTQI movement has a headstart over the West’s (‘Sexuality and the State’, 15 July 2013). True, sex comes under the ambit of pleasure or purpose to a section of Indian society who wouldn’t/couldn’t care a bit for one’s sexuality. But, I guess that is rampant only in a section of Indian society where life does not give people much choice to think on lines of phobia or otherwise. They take what life provides them. This section is what forms a good 50 per cent of ‘aam aadmis’ in India. Is it the same with the rest of ‘aam aadmi’ society? No, certainly not. There is also, a so-called educated middle-class society of people who have mostly lost that great value of Indian culture : free thinking. They lost it long back. For a majority of these families, the concept of ‘love’ does not hold much value. Life is more of a constitution to them. A job to be performed. Only a decade ago and still visibly seen in rural India, love was a
‘Western Evil’. Youth get spoilt watching movies that are corrupted by Western influences. I am speaking of love between a man and a woman (of different caste/ religion/status). Let alone love between a man and a man or a woman and a woman. Holding hands, hugging each other... certain things that are usually associated with homosexuality in the West are not viewed the same here. Yet, the very word ‘sex’ itself is taboo in this part of the world that gave us the Kamasutra. On your point that Indian culture has a dynamism that outperforms every notion of sexuality: Indians have lost that vibrant culture and are subconsciously adopting imported homophobia . Jay
Urdu Is an Eclectic Mix
‘in its early days as a popularly spoken language, Urdu was an eclectic mix of Turki, Farsi, Braj, Khadi Boli and other local dialects that emerged during the Sultanate era in Delhi and its environs from the 12th century onwards’ (‘Wilful
Ignorance’, 22 July 2013). The erudite writer of the article seems unhappy with the blend ‘Allah hafiz’. When Urdu is an eclectic mix of various languages, why can’t it have this very meaningful combination? Muslims across the globe use the word ‘Allah’ for the Maker and Originator of the universe unanimously. Khuda to them does not mean the same as Allah. The writer knows well that Khuda can’t be Allah’s equivalent. Imran Ahmad
More to Cycling
i have a problem with the fact that the article only deals with cycling as a sort of middle-class hobby, sport or exercise (‘No Country for Cyclists’, 15 July 2013). I think that cycles probably serve as the main mode of transport especially for the labour class in places like Delhi (who I have seen make a river of cycles flowing down the ITO bridge into the city every morning). If one speaks about cycling in the country as a whole, one cannot ignore this other much wider culture of cycling. sonal sundarara jan
Shades of Grey
why should ‘faking it’ be restricted to any one party alone (‘The Modi Mythology’, 29 July 2013)? Our political masters have looted this country for decades and used their PR agencies to prop their images. Buyers, beware! We all have to use our considered judgement as there are only shades of grey on both sides. Rachna Saksena
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openmagazine to 56070
Storm in a Teacup over Uniforms image
Insecure corporators oppose a municipal commissioner’s introduction of uniforms for officers
The classic crab mentality seems to be at work in the Pimpri Chinchwad Municipal Corporation (PCMC) in Pune district. In a bid to add some sophistication to the appearance of municipal employees, Municipal Commissioner Dr Shrikar Pardeshi has introduced uniforms for the civic body’s upper bureaucracy. But corporators in the organisation are opposing the move. An estimated 270 officers from Class I and Class II category have started wearing the uniforms since 16 July. The at-
mumbai
5 august 2013
tire for men is navy blue trousers and light blue shirts and for women it is navy blue saris and light blue ‘modestly cut’ blouses. The 6,500-strong Class III staff is excused from the uniform code. But they too have to be mindful of what they wear. Women cannot wear ‘bling’ saris or anything transparent or with heavy threadwork. Currently, uniforms are mandatory only while attending meetings of civic committees, the general body and during visits of delegations to the civic body. But they will be made compulsory for all work-
ing days shortly it seems. The officers, who were given a free hand in choosing the colour and style of their uniform, are happy about their new image. But the corporators are against Pardeshi’s move. “Why should civic officers wear uniforms? Will it change their mentality?” Shrirang Barne, senior corporator and Shiv Sena group leader in the PCMC, tells Open. He says the uniform is ‘unconstitutional’, adding, “The Act which governs the civic bodies does not prescribe uniforms for Class I and Class II officers. A change of mentali-
ty is needed. Change of clothes will not do that.” Pardeshi was not available for comment, but it is understood he is firm about the decision. Pardeshi is not new to bold moves. Last year, as Collector of Nanded district in Maharashtra, he undertook an exercise to spot bogus students in government-aided schools. Of the 3,475 schools inspected 140,000 students were found bogus and nearly 4,000 teachers excessive. The loss to the government exchequer was pinned at Rs 150 crore. n Haima Deshpande
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small world
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cover story The Cash Transfer Mess
8 business
angle
India’s slavery to English
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Sport
Mahesh Bhupathi as Murray’s manager
Passing Through
The amiable Amartya Sen
The RBI and the impossible trinity
justice
A court for, by and of women
‘Can cock my own gun’ h e l l o t o a r m s By all accounts, Ernest Hemingway, one of the 20th century’s best known writers, lived an uninhibited, often dangerous life. He boxed and hunted, drank with abandon, and, as a war journalist, even suffered shrapnel wounds. He once used his head as a battering ram against a cockpit door. Eventually, of course, he shot himself in depression. Soon, the public will get a peek of his childhood. The John F Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum in Boston is for the first time making five of Hemingway’s scrapbooks available online. These were donated to the library by the author’s widow, Mary. Reports on this have indicated that the author’s mother, Grace Hall Hemingway, seems to have played an important role in his interest in literature. She started a series of scrapbooks to document the author’s childhood. She describes the day he was born
on able Pers Unreasotnhe Week of na’s ■ Harya ment overn ta S te G ■
Photos: Ernest Hemingway Collection. John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum, Boston.
as the day ‘the sun shone and robins sang’. The scrapbooks contain scribblings by the child and notes by the mother. According to them, the future writer was accompanying his father on hunting exhibitions and ‘using long words’ and making ‘sage remarks’ before he was four. According to the Associated Press, a caption accompanying a photograph of his during this time reads, ‘Can cock my own gun’. n
s n r u t e R t h g i n The Dark K
Zack Snyder, eir act together. this year, th t ge ill w r o e s It is e Superman Superhe who rebooted th at the second installdespite , at th th g ed in al ris ve rp re su recently will e most rman franchise ing pe Su e th having two of th in t en ht m fig ran pe tm su Ba ok an and iconic comic bo feature Superm at another th d lk an ta so an al m is er e heroes (Sup each other. Ther h, will soon get his e most as Batman) and th DC superhero, Fl e Green Lantern already Th rhero film ith pe W su . m ed fil m n ai cl ow ac on have ready ner ed, DC might so ght series), War uc ni K od k tr ar in D e (th trilogy l’s Avengers— en able to mics haven’t be answer to Marve C’s own its s ic m Co Bros and DC Co l ue, D uctivity of Marve y have The Justice Leag match the prod Disne d ean l im ve cr ar of M y. am and Walt Disne ero films— te ing ccessful superh fight had a spate of su Hulk, Captain America, ible superheroes. Iron Man, Incred eved last year’s biggest hi ac d Now that’s a an t c— Thor et The Avengers. Bu ith w s es cc su comeback.n DC commercial like Warner and s em se ly al fin now it 4 open
F o r issuing cheques of Rs 2 and 3
to farmers as compensation for crop-damage due to heavy rain At least two farmers from Beri village in Haryana’s Jhajjar district received cheques of Rs 2 and 3 from the state government in April this year as compensation for cropdamage incurred due to heavy rains and waterlogging in 2011. Leaders of opposition party Indian National Lok Dal criticised the Congress for making a mockery of compensation, The Indian Express reports, while state officials felt they should be applauded for being ‘extremely precise’. The farmers, meanwhile, couldn’t deposit the cheques, as opening a bank account would cost them more than they were worth. They declined to photocopy them for the same reason. Someone ought to advise the Haryana government on when it’s okay for it to exercise its boundless capacity for cheek. 5 August 2013
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sex
That elusive female orgasm
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b books
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Review: The Infatuations
c
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cinema
true life
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Sex-worker turned scriptwriter
NOT PEOPLE LIKE US
Aanand L Rai and Himanshu Sharma
63
Ranveer regrets
After an extended spell of animosity between the two actors, Shah Rukh Khan appears to have made up with Salman Khan after a public hug at MLA Baba Siddique’s Iftaar party ta k e t wo
“There are so many stars in [Celebrity Cricket League], I don’t think they need a smaller star like me”
Face Off
Photo illustrations tarun sehgal
5 August 2013
picture. It was Sourav Ganguly on whose face Baruah’s had been superimposed. According to an Indian Express article, an FIR against Baruah under some sections of the IPC and Information Technology Act has been filed by the Freelance Journalists’ Association. Baruah has applied for and received anticipatory bail from the Guwahati High Court. n
—Shah Rukh Khan, subtly snubbing Salman Khan, who was Guest of Honour at the CCL opening, 23 February 2013
turn
On 22 April, many Guwahati dailies carried a photo of Shah Rukh Khan and Deepika Padukone along with an Assam Cricket Association secretary Bikash Baruah. It was an IPL meeting, and according to Baruah, who distributed the photograph to reporters, he had asked Khan and Padukone to form an IPL team from the Northeast. As it turned out, it was not Baruah in the
a d h ya a s
‘Finally u realize turning the page is the best feeling in the world, becos there is so much more to the book than the page u were stuck on’ —Shah Rukh Khan, in a tweet posted the morning after Siddique’s party 21 July 2013
around
Behind The Book After the recent revelation that JK Rowling authored a book, The Cuckoo’s Calling, under a pseudonym, speculation has been rife that the whole thing was a PR stunt by her publishers. It wasn’t. It was a careless late-night tweet. And a computer linguist. India Knight, a British columnist, tweeted to 95,000 followers that she was reading the book. @JudeCallegari responded, ‘Written by JK Rowling’ and later, ‘It’s her pseudonym—promise its true’. The tweets have since been removed. Callegari learnt this through a friend at Russells Solicitors, a law firm that represents Rowling. The Sunday Times of London sought the help of computer linguist Peter Millican to confirm the story. Millican has developed a software that analyses texts. He analysed the book against Rowling’s other novels, and those by other authors (two each by Ruth Rendell, PD James and Val McDermid). He checked for lengths of words, sentences and paragraphs, frequency of word use and patterns of punctuation before concluding Rowling was far and away the most likely author. n sleuthing
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angle
On the Contrary
The English Non Goddess The outrage Rajnath Singh’s statement on English has evoked shows our genius at turning slavery into a virtue M a d h a v a n k u t t y P i l l a i
6 open
anupam nath/ap
I
n the 1960s, my uncle went to study engineering in the Soviet Union. The medium of instruction in Patrice Lumumba University was Russian. He didn’t know the language but managed to study both Russian and engineering. He graduated without too much trouble. He was reasonably intelligent and what he did was neither exceptional nor unusual. The few Indians who go to France for higher studies even now learn in French. One of the arguments for the necessity of English in India is that it is the only medium in which higher studies is conducted or possible. That might be true, but it does not make English inevitable. Our subservience to it is a psychological condition imposed upon ourselves. Independent India ensured that vernacular languages didn’t develop by keeping all higher technological education out of their ambit. Even now, if it were made compulsory that medicine, engineering and management be taught in Bhojpuri, it is a fair possibility that demand would force the language to evolve and accommodate concepts that seem impossible for it today. Recently, Rajnath Singh said in a speech that “English language has caused a great loss to the country… We are losing our language, our culture as there are hardly any people who speak Sanskrit now.” It has been received with derision by middle and upper class India. The Times of India, the most accurate barometer of this elite, had a front-page headline titled: ‘BJP chief claims English bad for India, triggers outrage’. To align itself with the outrage, it ran a Times View saying why English needs to be celebrated and how lucky India must consider itself for it. You have to start by asking what makes a politician’s insipid comment so important for the country’s biggest English newspaper. The Times is a creature without emotion. It has just the market in its mind. The reason to play up the comment is the certainty that literate India, its chief clients, is not just servile to a colonial past but has the fanaticism of the converted. To speak English is a caste symbol that shows how the speaker is distinct from all those
sanskritisation of english English is the language of higher education here but the majority don’t speak it
toiling souls below. What Singh said has the usual dollops of right-wing absurdity. To explain English as the reason for Sanskrit’s near extinction is to establish the corollary—that if English were not so exalted, Sanskrit would have a resurgence. This is in keeping with the RSS hallucination about a mythical Hindu Eden where sages sat under trees and whispered equations of nuclear physics to disciples in Sanskrit. But Sanskrit was hardly ever the language of everyday India. It was moribund even when the second urbanisation of India started in 7th and 6th century BC. Courts and kingdoms used the local vernacular, like Ardh Magadhi. To imagine that English is an inevitable virtue is the same blinkered thinking. For example, if Sanskrit was never the language of the people, what is English?
There is nothing to show that we would be crippled without English. The only reason for India to stick with English is that it would be too much trouble to change it
Even now, not more than 10 per cent of India speak it as a first, second or third language. These speakers, however, hold the levers of higher education. Like the Brahmins of old who maintained control over knowledge and kept Sanskrit alive, this class does it for English now. Poor India studies the local vernacular. There is nothing to show that we would be crippled without English. China has created an online world entirely in Chinese. The internet has as many Mandarin users as English. The only reason for India to stick with English is that it would be too much trouble to change it. But to see an imprint of our cultural slavery as a blessing is delusional. Singh’s observation is half correct, his prescription pointless. A few years ago, a temple was set up in which English was deified as a goddess. This was done by a Dalit intellectual as a symbol of the community’s emancipation. Non-Dalit India looked on with benign indulgence and amusement. There was none of the scoffing that Singh’s words have evoked. But between a political comment adverse to an alien language and making a deity of that language, which is more bizarre? n 5 august 2013
real
india
A Hurried Man’s Guide to Britain’s Royal Baby
The son that Kate Middleton, the Duchess of Cambridge, gave birth to, is third in line to the British throne. His birth now displaces Prince Harry to fourth in the line of succession. Although the baby was born at 4.24 pm, the palace announced the birth at 8.30 pm (GMT). The public announcement was apparently delayed so that the couple could have some private time with their newborn.
cathal m c naughton/reuters
Shortly after the announcement was made, in accordance with tradition, the couple’s press secretary walked out of the hospital to hand the formal proclamation to a waiting driver who sped with it, escorted by police outriders, to Buckingham Had the baby been a Palace. A formal girl, she would have notice declaring the been the first girl to birth of the baby was have a claim to the then posted on an orthrone before her nate easel in the forebrothers, if any court of Buckingham Palace. British newspapers report that within minutes, a crowd of over a thousand gathered outside the palace to celebrate.
the heir The favourite name doing the rounds with bookies for the yet unnamed baby is ‘James’
Kate delivered the boy naturally in the Lindo Wing of St Mary’s Hospital, like the late Princess Diana did before her. A private suite here is rumoured to cost up to £10,000. A top medical team headed by the Queen’s gynaecologist, Marcus Setchell, oversaw the birth. Setchell, in fact, delayed his retirement on being requested by the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge to oversee the birth. Both William and Kate had chosen not to learn of the baby’s gender before birth. Had the baby been a girl, she would have been the first girl to have a claim to the throne before her brothers, if any. When Kate was about three months pregnant, a new legislation was passed in Britain that allowed female heirs to automatically accede to the throne if they are first born. While the baby is still unnamed, ‘James’ is reportedly the favourite name doing the rounds with bookies. n
It Happens
Actor in a Tractor Mammootty takes up farming in a battle against chemical fertilisers S h a h i n a K K
M
saying no to chemicals Mammootty has turned to natural paddy cultivation ammootty has played
farmer in many films. Now, dismayed by the use of chemicals in farming, he has taken the tractor wheel in his own hands. Busy with his main vocation, the actor had given the 17 acres of land he owned in Cheepungal, near Kumarakom in Kottayam district, on lease for paddy cultivation. This season onwards, he says, he will cultivate the paddy himself. Mammootty insists that his renewed interest in farming is not just a hobby or gimmick and reminds sceptics that he hails from a peasant family. “When I learned about natural farming, I got interested,” he says. “This is very natural paddy cultivation by using only natural manure like green leaves, cow dung, etcetera.” Mammootty has no plans of turning to organic farming. He thinks it is not viable. It was a pleasant surprise for Cheepungal locals when the superstar appeared on the farm last Wednesday in a traditional white dhoti, brown shirt and his favourite sunglasses. Appu, his childhood friend, and KM Hilal, a former Left-wing student leader and now a natural farming proponent, accompanied him to the paddy field. The actor drove the tractor and
assisted the workers in transplanting the saplings. Mammootty, who has won the National Award for best actor three times, hopes he can inspire others to turn to natural farming. “For paddy, chemical fertilisers are absolutely unnecessary. Cow dung and cow urine are the best manure,” he says. Mammootty is keen to protect varieties of paddy seeds that are diminishing due to chemicals and is seeking experts who can guide him. “Our ancestors had 3,000 such seeds and at present 60 exist,” Mammootty is only he says. “These keen to protect seeds varieties of succumbed to pests and paddy seeds pesticides.” that are dying Mammootty due to the use seems to have of pesticides been inspired by the concept of Zero Budget Natural Farming (ZBNF) popularised by agri-scientist Subhash Palekar. This promotes crop rotation, mechanical cultivation, biological pest control and green manure. Earlier, Malayalam actordirector Sreenivasan and director Sathyan Anthikkad were in the news too for similar agricultural ventures. n open www.openthemagazine.com 7
business
The Impossible Trinity and Last Law of Lickonomics indranil mukherjee/reuters
fall of 2008 was a premature move, p u z z l e ‘Even the A, B, C of it is but in a couple of radical moves on baffling,’ observed Mark Twain 15 July and 23 July, India’s central more than a century ago, referring bank has squeezed overnight cash to a holy trinity he had close availability to glare speculators encounters with on a trip to India. down and aid the currency up. If an American economist or Longer-term lending rates have humourist were to visit now, s/he also risen—undesirably. might want to say the same of It’s fuzzy, but Subbarao says that India’s take on the ‘Impossible India’s policy framework is Trinity’ of economics. aligned with its macroprudential Such a visitor would, of course, strategy. The idea is to give up have been forewarned that little of “some flexibility on each of the global origin survives contact with variables to maximise overall Incredible India. Dunkin’ Donuts macroeconomic advantage” as he is set to rival McDonald’s on said in London. What this implies aaloo-tikki appeal, Starbucks has is that India must watch all three grabbed the awestruck instead of variables, he added, and shift the down-on-luck, and KFC has ‘relative emphasis’ in real-time been turning into a tandoori response to varied scenarios. chicken joint—on the scholarly Ah, now that demystifies what advice, one assumes, of KFC’s the RBI does, doesn’t it? ‘Indian School of Lickonomics’. Okay, never mind. How it really What makes an Indian drool, works puzzles everyone except who knows, but economics is a perhaps the governor himself. Nobel-worthy field of academia No wonder the RBI has such full of propositions that aspire to confused critics. Some scream the universal validity, not saleability. fuzzy settings grant it too much Consider the Trinity. In a speech at discretion. Others argue that India London’s European Economics not santa nor sam Neither economics nor lickonomics has any clue is way too globalised and capital and Financial Centre on 17 July, flows way too large for this Reserve Bank of India Governor defiance of an impossibility to go D Subbarao cited its textbook The RBI’s fuzzy three goals. They keep on. Given how manipulative all of it formulation thus: “This trilemma asserts approach to sounds, a few simply fear the wrath of capital completely that a country cannot simultaneously this famous Uncle Sam (‘I Want YOU to Globalize!’) ‘open’ and monetary maintain all three policy goals of free The dull reality, however, is that so long policy ‘independent’ capital flows, a fixed exchange rate and an trilemma of economics as India’s imports and exports stay but leave exchange independent monetary policy.” could challenge rates ‘unfixed’. inelastic—and unresponsive to price Simply put, one can go for only two of anyone’s sanity In splendid contrast, changes—trade just cannot be balanced those three goals at a time. If a country the usual textbook way. Couple this fact India prefers a fuzzy keeps its cash gates open and suffers a with the risk of ‘hot money’ overwhelmpolicy framework, with each of those wave of capital outflows, it would mean three knobs turned only partially the way ing all capital flows, and the case for a local currency converted to dollars with fuzzy framework presents itself: at this Washington would have it (the nowsuch fury that the dollar’s local price stage, it would be foolhardy to expose battered Consensus, that is, not the US spikes; now, if it also wants to peg the India’s external sector to the brunt of administration per se). dollar down to a specific rate, its central global market forces. New Delhi has its cash gates only bank would have to sell a chunk of its Fuzzy isn’t exactly crazy, even if dollar reserves, thus slurping up the local half-open: foreigners can buy Indian working out its tugs and contradictions is equity and some debt assets, but resident currency and leaving it so scarce that a job that could threaten anyone’s sanity. citizens may not convert all their money lending rates spiral out of control: Still, somebody’s gotta do it, na? Try hard into dollars and send it overseas, at least upwards, that is, since interest rates are enough, and some synthesis may emerge prices too and market demand for money not legally. The RBI intervenes in the from each thesis and antithesis as one currency market too: occasionally, not to in excess of supply pushes them up. goes along. Like so many other naive peg the rupee, but contain volatility. And Undoing that spiral, by spewing out cash if these two policies mean some monetary idealisations, the Trinity is impossible. (buying bonds), would throw the central No doubt, sir, on that. But the ultimate bank’s longer-term rate policy out of gear. policy freedom is forfeited, so be it. truth? Like the Last Law of Licknomics, Subbarao may not admit that yanking The market economies of the West have nobody knows. n ARESH SHIRALI binary on-off settings to meet two of those out an already-loose rupee peg after the 8 open
5 August 2013
news
reel
travesty
Poisoned in Primary Political conspiracy theories abound as the headmistress considered responsible for the mid-day meal deaths at a school in Bihar absconds amarnath tewary
to happen. On 16 July in Dharmasati Gandaman village in Bihar’s Saran district, as many as 23 school children—all aged below 12—lost their lives after consuming a tainted free mid-day meal. If it hadn’t been this school, it could have been any of the 73,000 in the state, for death and deprivation for the poor in Bihar come free. No one takes notice until the number of victims goes into double digits. Insects, frogs, centipedes, rats and reptiles are regular sights at free mid-day meals in
adnan abidi/reuters
It was waiting
schools; little children have regularly been reported to be falling sick, hospitalised and even dying. Poverty seems to be their only fault, malnourishment their lone feature. It was a story waiting to make headlines in every nook and cranny of the state. Unfortunately, it pitched Dharmasati Gandaman first. The village, named after local deity Dharmasati, is like any other in Bihar. Of about 400 households, most are of Dalits and Extremely Backward Castes (EBCs). The young men have migrated elsewhere
to seek livelihoods, leaving behind little children, wives and ageing parents to confront poverty and malnourishment, hope and despair every day. The tragedy appears to be traceable to a small-time politician who manipulated government schemes meant for the poor, and his wife, headmistress of the village school, who has allegedly been merrily empty stomachs Many students take their free midday meal home to share with other family members
gobbling up most of the funds and food meant for the school. Locating the school is not difficult—it is run in a local ‘community centre’, a dilapidated building in a corner of the village. There is hardly anything worth calling a school: one 250 sq ft hall with plaster peeling off the walls, two door-less entrances and four open windows. The classroom has no fan, no bulb and a blackboard half turned grey-white. Broken pieces of two plastic chairs and a table lie outside in the campus near the lone hand pump. In the verandah outside the classroom is a makeshift earthen stove, used to prepare the mid-day meal for the 125 students enrolled in the school. Inside the classroom are strewn books of Hindi, mathematics and English, a pencil, a ball-point pen with plastic bags and a pair of purple slippers. But most compelling are the aluminium plates routinely used by the students for food, and along with each, an iridescent plastic bag. The school was shifted here in the year 2010. Classes for students from the first to the fifth class ran in a single hall, all at the same time, taught by the same teacher. The school has just two teachers, including the absconding headmistress, Meena Devi. The other teacher, Kalpana Devi, has been on maternity leave for three months. Two more women, Manju Devi and Pano Devi, are on contract to cook food for a meagre remuneration of Rs 1,000 each per month. Manju Devi ate the contaminated food and was hospitalised, while Pano Devi, being on fast that unfortunate day, escaped the tragedy. Her three children, however, could not suppress their hunger and now battle for life in hospital. The principal has not been eating school food, and did not on that day either. The free mid-day meal is, after all, meant for the poor and the principal is clearly not among the poor in the village. The school in Dharmasati Gandaman village is not alone in these features— there are over 8,000 such schools in Bihar. According to a Planning Commission report released in 2010 on the mid-day meal scheme in Bihar, only 47 per cent of schools in the state are housed in their own concrete buildings while only 43 per cent have their own kitchen and their condition appears unhygienic. Further, according to the report, only 50 per cent of schools have a facility to store the grain they get under the scheme. The state government, which recently claimed a growth rate for the state as high as 14 per cent in the current year, returned over Rs 450 crore of the funds 5 august 2013
allocated to Bihar for the mid-day meal scheme to the Central Government during the period 2006-2010. The mid-day meal scheme took off in Bihar in 2005 when current Chief Minister Nitish Kumar took charge of the state, promising the moon to its people. He highlighted Bihar’s amazing turnaround with ever-increasing figures of growth and social indices, winning national and international accolades and awards for bringing Bihar’s growth up— or, rather, projecting it as—just behind Gujarat’s and China’s. It amazed the state’s people, too, when the government admitted that the number of poor in Bihar had increased by 500,000—almost 50 per cent of households in the state do not have toilets and the state’s literacy rate still stands at 63.8 per cent against the national average of 74 per cent. The beneficiaries of the mid-day meal
Sujit Kumar took his meal home. He vomited after the first bite, and served the rest to his goat, which fainted. He alerted his family members, but by the time they reached the school, Sujit’s sister Puja had eaten and had to be admitted to hospital scheme in Bihar’s 73,000 government schools are varied, but 68 per cent of them are EBCs and 18 per cent, Dalits. Over 50 per cent of these children belong to families dependent on agricultural labour. A survey report by the AN Sinha Institute for Social Studies, Patna, revealed a pathetic state of affairs in the implementation of the mid-day meal scheme in Bihar, finding that stakeholders such as students, parents and community members were not happy with the quality of meals served under the programme. Dharmasati Gandaman villagers had complained to the district’s Education Officer about the poor quality of food being served in the school under the scheme. But nothing came of it, as nothing ever does of such complaints by poor people anywhere in the state. No one took notice, and the village lost one-third of its children in one day. “The food children often brought home from the school was not even fit for animals. It was always stinking and infested with insects. But what to do?
[Can the] poor [be] choosers?” asks Rangeela Prasad Yadav whose family lost one child, Mamata Kumari, and has seven others in hospital as a result of the contaminated food. The cook Manju Devi is his daughterin-law. It is common knowledge that most of the school’s students take the meal home to share with other family members. Student Sujit Kumar, too, had taken his share home on 16 July. But he vomited after the first bite, and served the rest to his goat. The goat fainted after a few minutes and Sujit alerted his family members who in turn informed other villagers. But by the time they could reach the school, Sujit’s sister Puja Kumari had eaten her meal and had to be admitted to hospital. She could not have survived had Sujit’s uncle not taken her to the hospital on his motorbike, covering 50 km to reach the district hospital in Chhapra. The villagers are now divided. While some see a ‘political conspiracy’ behind the tragedy, others aren’t buying it. But all rue the silence of Nitish Kumar. “Nitish Kumar, who often trumpets his government’s commitment to the welfare of Dalits and [EBCs] like us, has not even bothered to visit us,” says villager Terash Prasad Yadav, two of whose daughters, Anshu and Khusboo Kumari, have died while a third, Roshni Kumari, is in hospital. His wife, unable to bear the shock, has fallen ill and is surviving on a saline water drip. Indeed, ever since the incident, CM Nitish Kumar has maintained a mysterious silence, though his education minister P K Shahi has declared the incident a conspiracy by a rival political party to defame the JD-U government. His department’s principal secretary, Amarjeet Sinha, has been saying all along that it was not a case of food poisoning, but simply of ‘poisoning’. “Whether it’s deliberate or it happened by mistake is a matter of inquiry, which has already been ordered,” said Sinha. A few days later, a Forensic Science Laboratory report by the Bihar Police claimed it was monocrotophos— a poisonous insecticide of the organophosphorous group that was found in the food—which proved fatal for the school students. Officials believe the incident was caused by ‘criminal negligence’ on the part of the headmistress, at whose residence the food stock was stored along with agricultural pesticides. An FIR has been lodged against her, but she—along with her husband Arjun Yadav and other members of her family—is absconding, as Open goes to press. n open www.openthemagazine.com 11
opinion
H a rto s h S i n g h B a l
d o u b l e-sta n da r d
The End of Shame Modi is a disgrace; but let us make sure those pointing it out are not doing so to serve other interests between cultures of shame and cultures of guilt may be an oversimplification, but it is not without merit. Consider the number of terms in Hindi and other Indian languages that derive from shame: ‘sharam nahin aati hai’, ‘log kya kahenge’, ‘besharam’, ‘sharamnaak’ (aren’t you ashamed of yourself, what will people say, shameless, shameful). On the other hand, it is difficult to find an exact match for the term ‘guilt’ in most Indian languages. There are a number of words for regret; very few for guilt. We are not a culture given to censuring our thoughts, or for that matter even our actions, unless of course, we are found out. For better or worse, in India shame acts as a social check on public conduct. This is why the role of the media takes on an additional significance. If the Congress and BJP have recently been demanding that media coverage of accused politicians be tempered, this has little to with the judicial process. If this were a problem, the Judiciary would have intervened. The real problem is that the public airing of such deeds has forced figures such as Shashi Tharoor, Abhishek Manu Singhvi, Ashwani Kumar and Pawan Kumar Bansal to step down from posts in the Government or their party, even if only temporarily. The Congress reacted very differently in the aftermath of the 1984 massacre of Sikhs in Delhi. HKL Bhagat, Jagdish Tytler, Sajjan Kumar and Kamal Nath were rewarded for their roles in the killings, and even though Tytler and Sajjan Kumar have subsequently faced cases in court, Kamal Nath has escaped unscathed. The Congress got away then in a way it cannot now because for much of the 1980s after the massacres, the media abdicated its role. Caught up in the myth of Rajiv Gandhi, it largely ignored the deliberate distortion of evidence before several commissions, the coercion of witnesses and the complicity of the Delhi Police. Many editors of the time who continue to lecture us on public morality today forget that, from 1985 to 1989, they presided over one of the media’s biggest post-Independence failures. It would seem that the media has learnt from its earlier error. With the rise of Narendra Modi, the BJP has now shown that it can emulate the Congress cult of shamelessness, but at least the media has not remained silent. Unfortunately, the omissions of the past do not disappear so easily. In a recent piece, the young columnist Mihir Sharma rightly argued that exculpating Modi because of the 1984 massacres is dangerous. But the column reminded me of a conversation we
The distinction
12 open
had, where he asked me about the strength of the evidence against Kamal Nath for his role in the 1984 massacres. The evidence directly linking Kamal Nath to the massacres in 1984 is far stronger than the evidence in the Gujarat riots against any senior BJP leader, bar Maya Kodnani. Yet the media has let Kamal Nath survive as one of the most important Cabinet ministers in the UPA Government for two terms, with most people sharing Mihir Sharma’s ignorance. Little has been written about him; no questions have been asked. I have no doubt that Sharma, once aware of the evidence, would agree that Kamal Nath should step aside and allow an enquiry into his role, even if it comes 30 years too late, but I cannot say the same of several others who are today so vituperative about Modi. Many of them attack Modi while displaying a wilful disregard of the sins of the Congress. Writing on politics And when this happens, it for the first time is as dangerous as the since the Radia Tapes problem Sharma raises. appeared, Vir Sanghvi Modi is not just unfit for commented on the the post of Prime Minister; he is unfit for any public Modi campaign, ‘No office. But the shamelessmatter which party ness of such a man is best wins, India is certain questioned by a media that to lose.’ It seems even is immune to questions about its own motives. Just shame has its limits this week, Delhi woke up to an article on the edit page of one of India’s leading newspapers, The Hindustan Times, by none other than Vir Sanghvi. Writing in the paper on politics for the first time since his misuse of the same space was rather dramatically highlighted in the Radia Tapes, he commented on the Modi campaign: ‘No matter which party wins, India is certain to lose.’ It seems even shame has its limits. It is no surprise that almost a decade earlier Sanghvi had written about the 1984 massacres: ‘On the more substantive issue of whether the administration allowed Delhi to burn, all the commissions have been unanimous: yes, it did, but this was because of incompetence and negligence, not because of any sinister design. If there is a parallel, it is with the 1993 Bombay riots rather than with Gujarat.’ Somehow, he always manages to say exactly what the Congress wants to hear. To me it seems that no matter who wins, with his piece being published, journalism in some measure has already lost. n 5 august 2013
graphics by arindam mukherjee
off the mark
The Cash Transfer Mess A ground report from the VIP districts of Raebareli and Amethi Dhirendra K Jha photos by raul irani
O
n 11 July, nearly 100 residents of Pakhrauli pan-
chayat in Raebareli district showed up at the Sub Divisional Magistrate’s office in Dalmau, a subdivision of the district, angry at being dropped from the list of BPL (Below Poverty Line) families. The same day, in the neighbouring district of Amethi, villagers of Darkha panchayat were protesting the lethargic manner in which the exercise to collect biometric data for Aadhaar cards was being conducted. The seemingly unrelated expressions of anger on the two issues are only the latest links in a series of protests that have been witnessed in scores of villages and semiurban pockets in Uttar Pradesh over the past few weeks after the Aadhaar-based Direct Benefit Transfer (DBT) scheme was launched on 1 July. Raebareli is the Lok Sabha constituency of Congress President Sonia Gandhi, and Amethi that of party Vice President Rahul Gandhi. These two districts are among the 78 in the country where the DBT scheme has been rolled out in its second phase of expansion. The programme aims to disburse money directly to the bank accounts of beneficiaries of schemes that provide scholarships for students, pensions for the aged, widows and the disabled, and so on, apart from other welfare
in a rush Details of applicants being gathered at a UID camp in Dalmau, Raebareli
measures for BPL families. To ensure the cash reaches those it is meant for, it is transferred to beneficiaries whose identity is validated by Aadhaar cards issued under the UID scheme; their bank accounts are linked to this ‘unique identity’.
A
ll that sounds good in theory, but on the ground it is not working as smoothly as envisaged. While announcing the DBT scheme’s expansion to 78 new districts, the Prime Minister’s Office, in a statement issued on 5 April this year, had claimed: ‘The collection of biometrics in selected districts here will be accelerated to have a coverage of 70-80 per cent by June 2013 and DBT will be rolled out from 1.7.2013.’ Even the economic forecasts of the UPA Government have not been as off-the-mark as this claim. In Amethi and Raebareli, showpiece districts given their affiliation with the Nehru-Gandhi family, the collection of biometric data is being carried out in the field by private companies and the process is being monitored by a state-owned firm based in Raebareli, Indian Telephone Industry (ITI). “So far, in Raebareli, we have collected the biometrics of around 600,000 people of the target of nearly 2.8 mil-
lion,” said ITI Chief Manager BN Sinha, speaking to Open on 20 July. Against the PMO’s claim of 70-80 per cent coverage by June, as we near the end of July, only 20 per cent of Raebareli’s people have had their biometic data recorded. The situation is worse in Amethi district, where not even 10 per cent of the population has been covered so far. “Of the total target of nearly 2 million in Amethi district,” says Sinha, “we have so far collected biometrics of about 186,000 people.” In the month the DBT scheme was to be rolled out, by the PMO’s declaration, the system’s progress on biometrics and generation of Aadhaar numbers is so tardy in the two districts that the scheme’s implemention looks doubtful for many more months. This is simply because the UID number-linked bank accounts of these beneficiaries will start operating only after they are synchronised, or ‘seeded’ as it is called. But as of now, most beneficiaries in these districts—even those whose biometrics have been collected—do not have Aadhaar numbers. Even three weeks after the launch of the ambitious scheme, its nodal officers, Additional District Magistrate Sheetla Prasad of Raebareli and ADM Mata Pher of Amethi, admit that in neither of the two districts has this ‘seeding’ to link bank accounts happened. Prasad, however, claims the numbers are not as bad as they sound. The progress in biometric data gathering of identified beneficiaries, being done on a priority basis, is substantially better. “Biometrics collection of 86.38 per cent of the total DBT beneficiaries was over by 18 July,” he says. In Amethi district, “Almost 95 per cent of the DBT beneficiaries have been covered so far and most of them have accounts too,” says Mata Pher. But both admit that even in these cases, seeding is far from done. None of the officials in the two districts, not even of the government departments that handle the schemes picked for cash transfers, are ready to talk openly of their exasperation with the stiff deadlines. But off the record, most are forthcoming. “The task is very tough, and we need at least six months to make DBT fully operational,” says a senior official of the social welfare department that operates most cash transfer schemes in UP. According to HS Pandey, deputy general manager of ITI and data-gathering coordinator for Raebareli district, the procedure for implementing cash transfers has itself been the key source of delay. The collection of biometrics was being carried out for everyone in the district till midApril, but “thereafter, we got instructions to focus on ben16 open
eficiaries of programmes included in the DBT scheme. Now that this scheme has been rolled out, we have again reverted to collecting biometrics of everyone”.
T
here is desperation in rural areas to obtain an
Aadhaar number, which is seen by many as a magic number that will bestow benefits they are uncertain of but keen to obtain nevertheless. And the confusion that surrounds the process of dispensing numbers has generated a wave of resentment. This was evident at a recent six-day camp held for the villages of Darkha and Loharta panchayats in Amethi district. Getting to the camp involved a trek of 3-4 km from the villages of Darkha panchayat and 6-7 km from the villages of Loharta. “Not only was the camp located far away, those collecting [biometric] details for Aadhaar cards were working arbitrarily,” says Ramhetpal of Darkha Deeh, one of the villages of Darkha panchayat. “I went there two days in a row to submit my details for the Aadhaar card,” he says, “On the first day, they said the generator had developed some snag. So we waited and once the rush increased, they started demanding Rs 50 as suvidha shulk (facilitation fee). I refused to pay any bribe. The next day, I went there again and stayed the whole day and left only after getting myself registered.” 5 August 2013
work in progress A woman offers her thumb impression for Aadhaar Card enrollment in Makdumpur, Raebareli; A man gets his name verified on the National Population List in Johua Natki, Raebareli
been set up to collect biometrics from a large number of people. This kind of situation would not have arisen if an Aadhaar camp [were to] shift from one village to another or from one ward to another to collect biometrics.”
T
he DBT scheme’s tardy progress
amid high expectations in Raebareli and Amethi has had another fallout: it has given a fillip to grassroots unrest over what many see as fraudulent revision of the list of BPL families. In UP, the last BPL survey done was in 2002, on the basis of which the UP government had issued BPL cards to families below the official poverty line. Now, a state government drive is underway to re-issue these cards, and a large number of families that do not meet the criteria laid down for BPL status are being dropped from the list. The criteria are rather absurd. Families in possession of mobile phones or living in homes with even a single pucca room (except those built under the Indira Awaas Yojana) do not qualify as BPL. This, while villagers say even the poorest of the poor have lowcost cellphones today, and those who are still deprived of funds from the Indira Awaas Yojana (often because
Jaipata Pal, well over 80, went twice but could not make her way through the crowd. Nor could she afford the suvidha shulk of Rs 50. “Marbei tabei pension mili, jeetei naa mili (I will get pension only after my death, not while I am alive),” says a frustrated Jaipata, sitting outside her hut in Darkha village along with her ailing husband, Doodhnath Pal. Some were so enraged by the commotion at the Aadhaar camp and bribes being demanded that they turned restive on 11 July, the last day of the camp. While the villagers did not turn violent, their fury was so evident that nobody demanded a bribe that day, they say. Complaints that officials are demanding suvidha shulk—for out-of-turn number allotments and sometimes for issuing numbers at all—have erupted in many other parts of Amethi and Raebareli districts as well. The charge, however, varies from place to place, ranging between Rs 20 and Rs 50 per family. “These are not just allegations,” says Brajesh Gaur, former town area chairman of Dalmau subdivision of Raebareli district. “Scope for bribery emerges because a small number of camps have 5 August 2013
Against the PMO’s claim of 70-80 per cent coverage by June, as we near the end of July, only 20 per cent of Raebareli’s people have had their biometic data recorded. In Amethi, not even 10 per cent have been covered they are not in favour with the village sarpanch) somehow manage to build at least one pucca room to save themselves the routine maintenance of kachha mud-andthatch/tinsheet structures. The families being pushed off the BPL list feel cheated. Not only will they be deprived of the government benefits they had been entitled to so far, they say, they even fear losing the benefits that Aadhaar cards may bring. Many of those who feel cheated have been alleging discrimination at the behest of village sarpanchs and panchayat secretaries. In some places, angry villagers open www.openthemagazine.com 17
frustrated Jaipata of Darkha village in Amethi went twice to an Aadhaar camp, but did not have the money to pay a bribe demanded
have even staged street protests to highlight their plight. In Pakhrauli panchayat in Raebareli, for example, nearly 20 per cent of the families that had figured in the 2002 list have now been denied BPL cards. On 11 July, these villagers gathered at Dalmau, one of the subdivisions of Raebareli, and submitted a memorandum to SDM Satyendranath Shukla. Those protesting included 80-year-old Shanti Devi, a widow who has no one to look after her and no means to support herself. Kaushalya Devi, another widow, lives with her daughter-in-law, herself a widow. Both say their survival depends on handouts they
Families in possession of mobile phones or living in homes with even a single pucca room (except those built under the Indira Awaas Yojana) do not qualify as BPL in Uttar Pradesh get through a BPL card, without which they would starve. “These villagers had thought that there would be at least some improvement in their condition as the Government has now launched the DBT scheme,” says Devraj Singh, a resident of Pakhrauli village who led protestors to the SDM’s office and is still fighting for their cause. “But once off the BPL list,” he says, “it just becomes impossible for them to survive.” “There are many such complaints,” admits Dalmau’s SDM Satyendranath Shukla. “We will soon form a threemember team to enquire into specific cases.” 18 open
Indeed, such complaints are numerous not just in Dalmau subdivision, but in almost all parts of Raebareli and Amethi districts. For example, the BPL survey so far has covered over 600 panchayats of Raebareli, and more than 25,000 families in the 2002 BPL list have been dropped as a result of it. In other parts of UP, the scheme’s rollout may not be much different. But not much Aadhaar-related unrest has been reported from elsewhere. It is in these two ‘VIP districts’ that the gap between expectation and delivery appears the widest, drawing thousands of villagers out to claim what they see now as a birthright—an Aadhaar number and its entitlements—and complain of deprivation. Energetic political communication of the scheme’s promises only appears to have magnified the glitches in its implementation in these districts. The hurry, of course, does have a political agenda at its heart. And the extent to which the irregularities are fixed and promises fulfilled will determine whether the DBT scheme delivers on the UPA’s own expectations of electoral success in 2014. When it was introduced, Direct Benefit Transfer was touted as a ‘direct vote transfer’ by gleeful Congressmen. Certainly, it has raised expectations to unrealistic levels among those who have ‘enrolled’ themselves with Aadhaar authorities, though this identity is a must for all citizens—rich or poor. “Hoi gava, babu (Got it, babu),” announces 70-year-old Shivpata with pride as she herds her buffaloes to a field near the main habitation of Darkha Deeh. But if she does not get what she has been promised before the polls, the ‘direct vote transfer’ could work in a direction that the Congress does not expect: away from the party. n 5 August 2013
Ruhani kaur
pa s s i n g t h r o u g h
“It is a complete waste of time to discuss socialism and capitalism�
the post argument sen Every successful economy, he says, will be a mixed one
An amiable man in the dismal science Manu Joseph
T
he battle of clever old professors
is often fought behind the shield of values. They may even hint it is for the greater common good. But at the heart of it is usually a petty grouse. Naturally, they never mention the grouse, which points to where one may look to discover it. They say a lot, though, and employ bar diagrams. And much po-
5 august 2013
lite language. When an academic says “my good friend”, he usually means a body part. Indian-born American economist Jagdish Bhagwati, who used to be described until recently by several Indian commentators as a man who will one day win the Economics Nobel, and Amartya Sen, who has indeed won the prize, have been sparring for years, proclaiming that the other is a “good friend”. Bhagwati’s language has now turned savage, as Sen continues to seek refuge in elegance. Bhagwati, in an essay in Mint—in which the only moment of humour is when he says, ‘The Gujarat template is ideal: its people believe in accumulating wealth but they believe also in using it,
not for self-indulgence but for social good’—claims that ‘my good friend’ Amartya Sen ‘is not simply wrong; he also poses a serious danger to economic policy in India’. He says that Sen, probably through his book The Argumentative Indian, had ‘conned foreigners into believing that Indians believe in debates that lead to an informed democracy’. While the truth, according to Bhagwati, is that ‘Indians traditionally are more into falling at the feet of great figures like Sen and me.’ On the fact that Sen is often described as the Mother Teresa of economics, Bhagwati says, ‘Let us not insult Mother Teresa.’ It is Sen’s misfortune that one of the compliments he has been burdened with is a comparison with a proselytising nun from Kolkata. But the substance of the analogy is important. All economists may claim to work towards a better society, but it is only a particular type—because they recommend direct, urgent action to save the poor and weak and truly miserable at the cost of somewhat diminishing the strong—who are regarded as the conscience of their profession. Which Sen is. If Bhagwati were in a Tamil film, on a day of moral uncertainty, when he looks into the mirror, he will see Sen, and Sen will reprimand him through bad acoustics. (“My good friend”? Probably.) The professorial economic conscience constantly reminds society of the cost of progress, the price of inequities, and that a meaningful unit of economics is as small as the span of childhood. And that only a state’s moral intervention, and not merely the market’s collateral benefits, can effect fundamental and lasting changes in society. All this, Sen has suggested in different ways. Which is how he tells me during a brief interview at the Taj in Delhi, as the smell of coffee fills the small conference room, that he came to be misconstrued as a socialist, as a man who was “against economic reforms”, and, he chuckles now, as a man who “wanted the Licence Raj back”. “I don’t know what socialism means anymore,” he says, “I don’t know what capitalism means. It is a complete waste of time to discuss socialism and capitalism. Every successful economy in the world will be a mixture of both. It is a open www.openthemagazine.com 21
question of balance you are looking for. If it is the tipping point you’re looking for, it would be the tipping point of terminology.” But, among middle-economists, as is the case with writers, are some more sentimental than the rest? More precisely, do some of them, because of what they have seen in their miserable countries, believe in the centrality of conscience to economics, and does this lead them to a particular kind of economics? Some people need the illusion or reality of social conflict to achieve intellectual direction. Without imagining perpetrators and victims, they are lost. The evidence is common in literature. Arundhati Roy, closer home. Eduardo Galeano, a bit farther. The Uruguayan writer, in The Book of Embraces, writes: ‘Fleas dream of buying themselves a dog, and nobodies dream of escaping poverty: that, one magical day, good luck will suddenly rain down on them—will rain down in buckets. But good luck doesn’t rain down, yesterday, today, tomorrow or ever. Good luck doesn’t even fall in a fine drizzle, no matter how hard the nobodies summon it, even if their left hand is tickling, or if they begin the new day on their right foot, or start the new year with a change of brooms.’ Such prose is not possible without the imagination of a conflict gamed by the rich and designed to create winners and losers, the somebodies and the nobodies. Not surprisingly, Galeano is a ‘socialist’ who believes he knows what that means. Conscience, whatever it may or may not be, is a powerful literary device. It lends tone, and even movement. It carries the plot from a broad range of options, the illusory beginning, to the consequence, the illusory end. It was at the very origins of economics too. And has survived, despite all the math, like an ancient ancestor’s long nose persists in time down the generations. In his latest book, An Uncertain Glory: India and Its Contradictions, which he coauthored with the economist Jean Dreze, Sen appears to have a clear understanding of socialism because he and Dreze emphatically claim that India was never a socialist republic as many believe and India itself has claimed for decades. ‘India’s economic planning in the early post-independence period was not 22 open
particularly ‘socialist’, and it was certainly not Soviet-style planning as is sometimes suggested. India was attempting the sort of state-led development strategy that was also being pursued, in various forms, by many other countries around that time…’ One of the important reasons they say India was not socialist, or Communist for that matter, is that the nation did not take primary education seriously the way Communist countries did. ‘In fact, the first Five Year Plan, initiated in 1951—even though sympathetic to the need for university education, which it strongly supported—argued against regular schooling at the elementary level, favouring instead a so-called ‘basic education’ system, built on the hugely romantic and rather eccentric idea that children should learn through selffinancing handicraft.’
An unsung achievement of modern India surely was its ability to abandon many of Gandhi’s obtuse ideas. Luckily, Nehru was “not as Gandhian as Gandhi was” This was Mohandas Gandhi’s influence. He wanted children to learn by making handicrafts. He even believed that if children learnt how to write or read before learning how to make, say, a straw hat, it will, in his words, ‘hamper their intellectual growth’. An unsung achievement of modern India surely was its ability to abandon many of that man’s obtuse ideas. Nehru was, as Sen says, “not as Gandhian as Gandhi was.” Which helped the nation. But India’s first Prime Minister was greatly influenced by another amusing figure—the statistician, among other things, Prasanta Chandra Mahalanobis. In India: A Portrait, British writer Patrick French writes that before Mahalanobis got interested in economics he was involved in eugenics as he wished to ‘discover the racial origins of Bengalis’. French writes, ‘He invented a mathematical formula of “caste-distance” to determine the eugenic gap be-
tween Anglo-Indians and specific caste groups… His conclusion was that Europeans had bred with Bengalis rather than with people from other regions… In 1949, by which time such ideas were falling out of fashion, he took part in an anthropometric survey of several thousand Indians, busily measuring their brows, noses, elbows and shinbones.’ ‘Extending himself from skull measurement and statistics to the ideal future for the nation, he invented a theory of economic development—the ‘Mahalanobis Model’, inevitably.’ It was a model on which India would base its disastrous central planning. Mahalanobis was, Sen says with a chuckle for some reason, “What you would call a socialist. He was doing all kinds of things. He was quite brilliant with some subjects. You can see some good effects and bad effects. Among the good effects on Nehru is the emphasis on technical education, and the early beginnings of IIT, which will ultimately play a leading part in the Indian economic transformation. But he could not be convinced that primary education made any difference.” It is hard to comprehend from the vantage point of this century, but the fact is that the Indian elite, which ruled the nation at the time, simply failed to see how crucial investing in primary education was. The nation also neglected primary health, which is even more perplexing. “It was a lesson missed,” Sen says. In time, he points out, “Relying on public healthcare and public education combined with the free market economy led to rapid economic growth” in several other Asian countries. India’s investment in healthcare and primary education, as a percentage of its Gross Domestic Product, continues to be dismal. But how can a democracy, where the power of self-interest forced politicians to solve the problem of famine, ignore its children and the health of its people? “It was a policy mistake,” Sen says. But India did build lots of rockets— and they went up too—and the very manly nuclear bomb. And soon, when India goes to Mars, there will be much joy with commercials in between. It was partly malnutrition’s fault then that it was simply not as sexy as space. n 5 august 2013
b a n k ru p tc y
Kashmir, Once Again The Indian Government is unable to counter the changing strategies of separatists ashish sharma
Rahul Pandita srinagar
on the edge Stone pelting in downtown Srinagar after recent killings in Ramban and reports of desecration of the Quran
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first casualty of any armed conflict is the truth, and in this, Kashmir is no exception. Depending on who one talks to, there are different versions of what happened on 18 July in Ramban, a small town midway on the Srinagar-Jammu highway. Word of the Quran’s desecration at a local madrassa spread quickly, and a large crowd assembled outside the camp of the Border Security Force (BSF). Local police forces rushed there too. In the ensuing chaos, the BSF troops opened fire. Four protestors died while dozens were injured. Two more local protestors he
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later succumbed to their injuries. This news reached Kashmir valley in no time, triggering protests all over. Curfew had to be declared immediately. As a clueless state government struggled with diffusing tension, news of another incident of Quran desecration came from Ganderbal in central Kashmir, leading to further protests. Apparently, a resident had found a few burnt pages of Islam’s holy book outside a mosque along with a policeman’s belt and a shoe. Nobody bothered to ask why the supposed culprit from the police would leave a telltale trail of objects behind.
A police investigation revealed how two local drug addicts had done this to turn up the heat on the police and keep them from raiding their drug consumption hideouts. But such sordid stunts, as the learned in Kashmir tell you, are not always pulled for gains as petty as freedom to pop Spasmo-Proxymon capsules. Such trouble, they say, also marks a shift in the separatist strategy to keep the state on edge. The game is to ensure that any incident can be tweaked to draw slogan-shouters and stone-pelters onto the streets against the Indian State. open www.openthemagazine.com 23
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ust a few days before the
tack on 25 June in Kashmir’s Ramban incident, I am in Hyderpora area on a convoy carNowhatta, the epicentre of prorying Indian Army soldiers. The video, shot with a mobile camera, tests in downtown Srinagar. It’s shows an Army truck being fired Sunday, but there is going to be at by three gunmen. They appear no respite. In one corner, a few to have got so close because there nervous jawans of the Central is no retaliatory fire. The Indian Reserve Police Force (CRPF) are soldiers, on their way back from preparing for a showdown. A vacations, are unarmed—and little ahead, outside the Jama within minutes, eight of them Masjid, hundreds of youngsters are dead. In the video, one can are gathering at various points. hear an Arabic voice that eulogisAt one place, a local baker is supes the commitment of jihadis. plying logs of wood from his This operation, according to the stock to enable the young men police, was carried out by the LeT. to block the main road. Some of Two days earlier, suspected them are urging a few shopkeepHizbul militants shot from close ers whose outlets are open to range two policemen regulating draw down their shutters. What has everyone enraged is the death traffic on a busy street in of a Srinagar boy in Mumbai. Srinagar, instantly killing both. “The people here think the On 14 July, another policeman’s growing list A ‘wanted’ poster, with pictures of those allegedly Shiv Sena killed him,” says a local throat was slit; he had no chance involved in the 25 June Hyderpora attack, released by the J&K Police journalist who accompanies me. of survival. We are there to meet two veteran The police believes that about stone-pelters of this area. The local jour- side by side,” says Ahfadul Mujtaba, 150 terrorists are active in Kashmir right nalist asks us to walk a little ahead while Inspector-General of Police in central now, many of them new recruits. “They he establishes contact with the two. Kashmir. They fear how easy it is to re- are in Sopore, Handwara and Pattan in Behind us, stone pelting has already be- place a stone with a hand-grenade. What north Kashmir; and Ananatnag, gun. We hear the din. A siren blows some- heightens the worry, say senior police Pulwama, Kulgam and Tral in the south,” sources, is the renewed focus of militants says a senior police officer. On top of the where nearby. We enter a lane. The two men—they on local recruitment. “The Pakistani han- list are Hizbul’s Qayoom Najar, who is are in their mid-twenties—follow short- dlers of terrorism in Kashmir are keen to from Pakistan, and Sajjad, a local boy ly. “Our fight is not only for an indepen- show that Afzal Guru’s hanging has led who is with the LeT. “The LeT has recentdent Kashmir, but for an independent to more Kashmiri youth joining militan- ly recruited about 30 youth in Sopore,” Kashmir that is an Islamic state,” says the cy,” says a senior police officer. According the officer says. more vocal of the two. They have partic- to him, the terror outfit Hizbul The money that funds recruitment, acipated in every episode of stone pelting Mujahideen, which comprises mostly lo- cording to police sources, can be traced to through all these years. “We have grown cal youth in the Valley, is itching to re- the trade across the Line of Control beup amid curfews and crackdowns and all cruit young men to keep militancy in tween Kashmir and Pakistan-occupied the brutality,” the man says. Kashmir at a level that suits it. “The Kashmir (POK) that began in 2008. Cash The conversation veers to the man Bemina attack [on a CRPF camp that left is routed in through shady deals. For inwho died in Mumbai. “This is what main- five jawans dead] of 13 March was done by stance, say, a Kashmiri trader goes to the stream India is doing to us,” the other terrorists of the Lashkar-e-Toiba (LeT), LoC with carpets worth Rs 5 lakh. In exman says, “Killing us in Kashmir and but the Hizbul was quick to claim re- change, he gets dry fruits from his couneven outside [the state].” I ask them the sponsibility for the attack. The ISI [of terpart in Muzaffarabad (in POK) for name of the man who died in Mumbai. Pakistan] is patronising Syed Salahuddin Rs 10 lakh on the understanding that he Neither knows. “What Teli is it?” one [founder of the Hizbul and chairman of pays an agent in Kashmir Rs 5 lakh. Police sources also mention instances where asks the other. He shrugs his shoulders. the United Jihad Council],” he says. For the new recruits, there is not much the surrender of militants based in POK He can’t remember, he says. Later it turns out that Parvez Ahmed time for rigorous training, as received was used to transfer money. Some miliTeli was killed after he had stepped out to by their counterparts from the LeT. They tants need large sums of money to acbuy cigarettes and was hit by a local train. are given a few days of practice to fire quire passports and other documents “He was sent [to Mumbai] from here by a pistol or an AK-47 rifle and then let there to enable their return to Kashmir. his parents because he was a drug addict,” loose. While the LeT conducts large-scale This money is provided by a handler operations, Hizbul recruits undertake there on the condition that relatives of a police officer in Srinagar tells me. Such youth are a cause of worry for the smaller attacks. the militant deliver the same sums of police. “Militancy and stone-pelting go There is a video on YouTube of an at- cash to a militant agent in Kashmir. 24 open
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as the state government’s response
to all this been adequate? “No,” says a senior police officer who has come to see me at my hotel. He has had a busy day. Talks have been held on changing the security plan for Srinagar in the wake of the Hyderpora attack. “It’s like a train accident in India,” he says. “At one time you will blame a ‘lack of trained guards’; another time you’ll say ‘There is a fault in the locomotive’; and the third time you’ll say ‘There is some problem with the tracks’. We change security plans here roughly in the same fashion.” The Army, he feels, is part of the problem. “Why do we want an army jawan to search cars on a street in Srinagar?” he asks. “What are we meant for? Instead of engaging a terrorist in Srinagar, shouldn’t the Army be on the LoC with thermal sensors to make sure that no terrorist reaches Srinagar?” In 1990, he says, there were 40,000 armed militants in Kashmir and yet they could not achieve anything. “This is 2013… what could 150 or possibly 200 militants achieve?” he asks. Time and again, Kashmir’s separatist leaders have fallen short of new targets. Since 2008, though, there has been a change in their strategy. “They wanted to create an intifada-like situation here, and the first chance they got was the Amarnath yatra controversy,” says the officer. Signs of this strategy switch were evident in 2010, when more than a hundred youngsters died in police firing. “In 2011 and 2012, the Mirwaiz [separatist leader Umar Farooq] began to talk about bijli, paani in his Friday sermons, very much like 1.2 billion Indians do,” he adds. But then, the State has had no strategy, he says. It kept up its old tactics. “Now you are putting young boys in jail under the [Public Safety Act]. They are 10 per cent radicalised when they enter and 90 per cent radicalised by the time they get out,” he says, “We must understand that the new generation is different. If there’s firing, a person of my generation will instinctively run in the other direction. But a young Kashmiri boy will run towards the firing spot.” The police are making some effort to discourage young locals, in downtown Srinagar particularly, from stone-pelting. A few gyms have been built. Also, some young men have been recruited by the
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state police from this area. But the officer with me at the hotel says it doesn’t make much difference. “A month later, he will come to a police station for passport verification and the constable will demand a bribe from him,” he says. Of late, there has been much talk in security circles about the probable impact on Kashmir of the proposed withdrawal of allied troops from Afghanistan in 2014. But the officer believes such talk is overdone. “Nothing will happen,” he says, “They will come and we will kill them.” But there are security agencies, he says, who want to create the impression that Kashmir could turn into a sort of Tora Bora. “Everyone is so happy with this conflict,” the officer says, “Including that retired Army general with a big moustache I see every evening on some news channel.” It is all hot air, believes the police officer. He cites the example of a senior CRPF official whose team has occupied
The police believes that about 150 terrorists are active in Kashmir right now, many of them new recruits an entire hotel of 42 rooms at a prime location in Srinagar for which the Union Home Ministry pays a yearly rental of Rs 22 lakh. “When the officer gets up in the morning and pulls his bedroom curtains apart, he can see the Dal Lake,” says the officer. “Now imagine if he were to be transferred from here. He would [probably] be sent to a Naxal area where he will have to live in a dilapidated government school building. Why would this officer want to leave Kashmir?” In Srinagar district alone, according to sources, the Government pays annual rentals of over Rs 15 crore for buildings occupied by the CRPF and others. “Kashmir is like that line from the film Hidden Agenda,” the officer says: “The more you peel, the more you cry.”
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he next day, I travel to Sopore to
meet Mudassar, the elder brother of an LeT commander, Muzammil, who
was killed along with another Pakistani militant in October last year after Indian security forces brought down a building in which they were holed up. It is late afternoon and the air is quiet all around. It is Ramzan, and people are indoors trying to conserve energy before the evening prayers and breaking of their day-long fast. Mudassar insists on serving us lemonade, shortly followed by tea. As I nibble a biscuit, Mudassar talks of how he and his family were tortured by the police, as he alleges, and how that led to Muzammil’s turning into a terrorist. It all began, he says, when the police found a bag of weapons inside a well in their compound in 2010. Mudassar claims it was dropped there by two passing militants who then escaped from the back door. But he accepts that Muzammil had become quite religious in the few years before this incident and had urged the family not to watch TV and asked him and their other brother to grow a beard. “But he did not believe in the gun,” Mudassar insists. In the wee hours of the morning of 21 October, just before he got killed, Muzammil had made a phone call to Mudassar. The call was recorded and later put on YouTube with voices extolling his martyrdom. In the long call, one hears Muzammil urge his family to be patient and not cry over his imminent death. “We had given him many chances to desist from militant activities,” says Imtiyaz Hussain, Sopore’s police chief, “He had been with the LeT since 2009 and was a close associate of the slain LeT commander Abdullah Uni.” In Srinagar later, a senior police officer tells me how they were about to catch Muzammil alive eight months before his death. He explains how cops had arrested two associates of Muzammil in Jharkhand who had been asked to trigger explosions in crowded parts of Delhi. But before Muzammil could be arrested, the then Union Home Minister P Chidambaram announced the arrest of his associates on TV. Muzammil went underground the same evening. “To be fair, Muzammil’s father really wanted him to be caught alive,” says the officer. But then, Chidambaram messed up. And a martyr was born amid the debris of a building. n open www.openthemagazine.com 25
ac t i o n
The End of Silence Campus rape at US colleges has for years gone unchecked under negligent administrations. A group of students taking legal action against six leading institutions may finally change that elaine teng
HANNAH GREEN los angeles
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ngie Epifano always wears the same necklace. It is sim-
ple—a round blue stone set in silver on a silver chain. When something reminds her of her rape, she holds the pendant in her palm and concentrates on how it feels. This brings her a sense of calm. “It’s called ‘grounding,’” she says, touching the pendant during a Skype interview. It’s a technique psychological counsellors teach those who have experienced rape or other types of trauma: when something occurs in their daily life that reminds them of what happened—whether it’s seeing their rapist, or a certain smell or sound—they must concentrate on something else that will bring them back to the present. “Some people have a memory that they think of, or a place that they felt safe in, like a wooded space. Or they’ll think of their favourite food or just anything that will bring them back to reality. If you were to run into or see your rapist—that’s the kind out in the world of tool that will help After withdrawing you get through the from Amherst, Angie encounter.” Epifano (seen here in Angie wishes she Scotland) has been working and travelling had known about around the world this technique earlier. After being raped by a fellow Amherst student in the spring of 2011, towards the end of her freshman year in college, she hesitated to tell anyone. During that time, she saw her rapist often—across campus at a distance, at the library when she was trying to study, at the gym when she was trying to work out. When she finally reached out to her college administration, they did more to convince her that she was crazy than they did to help her deal with her trauma. Rather than trying to investigate her rape or making efforts to protect her from her rapist, she says, the college administration sent her to psychological counsellors who tried to make her believe that she had invented her rape.
Some administrators indicated Angie’s background had led her to misunderstand what had happened—Amherst is in America’s North-eastern state of Massachusetts, while Angie is from Florida, in the south. “They said that because I was from a different part of the US and grew up in a different environment, I didn’t understand how things worked,” Angie says, “Or that I was from a broken family, so I had imagined my rape in order to cope with things. One psychiatrist said that I was explaining away child sexual abuse with the rape. I was never sexually abused as a child.” Instead of helping her come to grips with what happened to her and move on, Angie felt her college counsellors were trying to make her feel insane. After months trying to cope, finding no one willing to believe her or help her seek justice, Angie went to a counsellor and confessed suicidal thoughts. The Amherst administration forcibly admitted her to a psychiatric ward. Not long after she was released, Angie withdrew from one of the most prestigious colleges in the United States. She hadn’t spoken to either of her parents in three years, and had no idea what the future would be like. In the months that followed, Angie worked at a ranch in Wyoming, and then headed to Europe to go backpacking. When she returned to the US, she visited Amherst. She met with other survivors of sexual assault on campus and found that they were experiencing the same injustices she had. She felt it was time to do something about it. Using journal entries from her time at Amherst, Angie composed an op-ed piece for the college newspaper, The Amherst Student, detailing the aftermath of her assault, her time in a psych ward and the administration’s dismissive attitude. The article, ‘An Account of Sexual Assault at Amherst’, went to press in October 2011. Amherst President Caroline ‘Biddy’ Martin responded immediately with an open letter, saying: ‘Clearly, the administration’s responses to reports have left survivors feeling that they were badly served. That must change, and change immediately. I am investigating the handling of the incident that was recounted in The Student. There will be consequences for any problems we identify, either with procedures or personnel.’ She has overhauled campus sexual assault procedures by hiring professional investigators to deal with reports. The psychological counsellor assigned to Angie has since resigned. Responses to Angie’s story continue to surface. Countless survivors, with stories similar to Angie’s, have come forward in the blogosphere, addressing one another, and the legal system. In the past two months, six of America’s best known colleges— Occidental College, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, Swarthmore College, University of California at Berkeley, The University of Southern California and Dartmouth College— have been under the US Department of Education’s scrutiny for neglecting victims of sexual assault. Students and faculty from these institutions, represented by celebrated feminist lawyer Gloria Allred, filed complaints on 18 April and 22 May 2013, charging their colleges with the violation of Title IX and the Clery Act. The Department of Education’s investigation of these institutions is well underway. If they do not change their policies to adequately protect students from sexual assault, they risk government sanctions, including loss of funding. open www.openthemagazine.com 27
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itle IX is a United States law, passed in 1972, which pro-
hibits gender discrimination in government-funded educational institutions. Democratic Senator Birch Bayh, who introduced the bill, said in his remarks on the Senate floor that the intention of Title IX was to prevent universities from denying women places in colleges based on gender. He intended for it to combat the false stereotype that “women [are] pretty things who go to college to find a husband, go to graduate school because they want a more interesting husband, and finally marry, have children, and never work again”. In 2011, not long before Angie was raped, the Obama administration amended the law to include sexual harassment and violence as forms of gender discrimination. The purpose of this clarification was to curtail sexual violence on campus by holding college administrations accountable for dealing with it. Ironically, President Obama’s own alma mater, Occidental College in Los Angeles, California, now finds itself centre-stage for having allegedly violated Title IX. In March this year, the Oxy Sexual Assault Coalition (OSAC), a student and faculty group at Occidental, wrote an open letter to college president Jonathan Veitch. The letter accused Veitch of failing to deal with on-campus sexual assault, despite damning data presented to him by the OSAC more than a year earlier, and despite the numerous promises he’d made to address the problem since then. After Veitch failed to get tough on sexual assault, another Occidental student was allegedly raped on 24 February 2013. The local media got involved, and interviewed Professor Danielle Dirks as well as another Occidental student and rape survivor, Carly Mee, both of whom are members of the OSAC. Without this media coverage, no one on campus would have been informed of the crime. In an open letter to the campus community, Veitch tried to shame Dirks and Mee for speaking out about the assault to the media, saying that they ‘actively sought to embarrass the College on the evening news. That is their choice, and there is very little I can do about it.’ He also defended the decision to allow the accused student back on campus unnamed, saying that he posed ‘no ongoing danger’ to other students. The OSAC’s response, as stated in its letter, was to file a legal complaint against Occidental under Title IX. Since learning of the potential legal consequences of his actions, Veitch has apologised. Danielle Dirks, a professor of criminology at the college and one of the Title IX complainants, believes that part of the reason colleges are held responsible for dealing with cases of sexual assault is that the police often fail. “In cases where there have been injuries, the police have said there’s not enough evidence,” she says in a phone interview. Even when the police don’t turn rape victims away, the standards for finding rapists guilty are tough to meet—too tough to keep campuses safe. In an email, James Tranquada, director of communications
at Occidental, says: ‘Being the subject of this kind of attention is never pleasant. But this is an important conversation to have.’ He admits that parents of prospective students have been asking, ‘“Should I send my son here? Should I send my daughter here?” And I say, absolutely. You should be sending your child to an institution that is talking about these problems.’ Simply talking about ‘these problems’, however, may be too little too late. Occidental’s reputation has already been damaged, and the college now risks losing government funding. The OSAC’s complaint was officially filed with the Department of Education in April, after a group of 37 students and faculty at Occidental organised by the OSAC hired wellknown women’s rights lawyer Gloria Allred to represent them. Allred’s firm handles more women’s rights cases than any other private firm in the country, and has won millions of dollars for victims. A month later, students from five more colleges followed suit: University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, Swarthmore College, University of California at Berkeley, University of Southern California and Dartmouth College. etween late April and the end of
May, Allred held a series of press conferences announcing each of these complaints. Thanks to statements made by survivors and faculty at these press conferences, the depth of the negligence shown by these institutions towards sexual assault on campus has become public information. One such statement was made by Leah Capranica, another Occidental student, who met the Director of Student Advocacy and Accountability to report a sexual assault and was discouraged from reporting her assailant. The following semester, he assaulted another female student. This time, the administration found him guilty and expelled him. He appealed the expulsion and his punishment was reduced to a suspension. He will be back at Occidental next December. “I will never feel safe walking on campus again,” Leah said in her statement. Rachel Greenstein, also a student at Occidental, stated that she decided to report her rapist to the Occidental administration despite being told that it would be a daunting process. He was found guilty and given a one-semester suspension. He appealed the decision, and his punishment was reduced to community service and a book report. Still on campus, Rachel’s rapist, she said in her statement, did what he could to make her life hell, spreading lies and sharing private details of her case. Annie Clark, an alumnus of UNC Chapel Hill, reported her rape to a university administrator in 2007. He responded: “Rape is like football, and if you look back on the game, [you think:] what would you have done differently in that situation?” It was clear to Annie that she was being blamed for the assault. “Rape is the only crime in society where we blame the victim instead of the perpetrator,” she said in her statement. Andrea Pino, another UNC student, stated that she came from
A USC student was told by campus police that no rape had occured because her assailant did not orgasm. USC is one of six colleges under investigation
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a “tight-knit, Hispanic family that never had the opportunity to even consider college.” Her dream of going to college became a nightmare during her sophomore year, when “my head was slammed against shiny white tile, the same colour as the graduation robe that I wore the day I last walked by my high school. He held my wrist against the walls as his hands slipped with my blood, and my vision blurred with blood filling my contact lenses.” Andrea said she decided not to report her rape after speaking to other survivors like Annie and realising that, “If I came forward, not only would I not be believed, I would be blamed for the crime committed against me.”
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ike Angie, many of the survivors involved with the complaint had to stay on campuses where their rapists walked free. Some who lived in the same building with their assailants were told that it would be a hassle for them to switch dormitories—it seems the possibility of the assailants switching living arrangements was never considered. Many had to watch their rapists graduate successfully, while they dealt with emotional trauma and struggled socially and academically. Kenda Woolfson, one of the complainants from Occidental, says it’s difficult to watch her rapist succeed while she struggles. Both have graduated from college. “He is walking around with a good job, a steady girlfriend, and I’m kind of dwindling and don’t know what I’m doing—it’s always hard to accept that,” she says in an interview. After her rape, Kenda had to take time off from school to deal with an eating disorder and posttraumatic stress disorder. ‘I wanted… to change my body so much that my mind might be changed as well, and I might finally find myself completely and utterly different from the girl who was held down in paralysing panic that night in February,’ she wrote recently on her website. When she tried to report her rape, she was told that she would lose a lot of friends, and that it would be stressful to her mental health. “It’s been incredibly empowering in that I didn’t report my assault,” she says of the complaint, “This is the first time I’ve done something to really take my power back.” For every complainant who decided to go public, there are many more who chose to remain anonymous. Those who did share their stories have heard hundreds more like their own, from friends and strangers alike. Now they’re taking steps to make sure that all American college students know their legal rights. Like many survivors, Mia Ferguson, a complainant from Swarthmore College, says that things might have been very different had she known her rights before. “As a student going into it, I really didn’t know what the law provided me. I didn’t know what I could demand,” she says in an interview. Mia is now part of ‘The IX Network’, which helps spread awareness of the law. Angie, too, is working to help students know their rights. “I’m working with a lot of the girls from the other schools across the US—UNC, Swarthmore , Occidental, Yale,” she says. Many of these young women are also college rape survivors involved in the ongoing Title IX complaints. Together, they are building a website called Know Your IX, intended as a platform that enables survivors to be part of a larger community, and to become aware of their rights. “It also helps with things like how to deal with seeing your rapist, and how to work through your post-
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traumatic stress disorder and just some coping mechanisms to help people realise ‘You’re not alone out there’,” Angie says.
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till, society’s pressure to silence victims is strong.
Tucker Reed, a University of Southern California student, was the only complainant to name her rapist, who is also her exboyfriend. He is now suing her for libel. Reed has said that USC dismissed her initial complaint, despite her submission of an audio recording of him admitting it. Another USC student, The Huffington Post reports, was told by a detective with the university’s Department of Public Safety that ‘no rape occurred in her case because her alleged assailant did not orgasm.’ Even Allred, who has represented many women in sexual assault lawsuits, doesn’t recommend that all survivors speak out. “There are lots of reasons,” she says, “invasion of privacy, possible defamation, pending lawsuits, pending criminal cases.” In March this year, we got a public glimpse of how rapists are coddled in the US when two 16-year-olds from Steubenville, Ohio, were put on trial for rape. Last August, Trent Mays and Ma’lik Richmond broadcast their brutal sexual assault of a passed-out 16-year-old girl on Facebook and Twitter. The two supplied enough evidence to establish their own guilt, but were often seen as the victims in subsequent coverage of the incident. CNN reporter Poppy Harlow had this reaction to the guilty verdict: “Incredibly difficult, even for an outsider like me, to watch what happened, as these two young men that had such promising futures—star football players, very good students— literally watched as they believed their lives fell apart... when that sentence came down.” In this environment, many of the assailants identified by the young women involved in the complaint will likely walk free—including Angie’s rapist.
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ngie, now 21, lives in Jersey City, across the river from New
York City. She wants to continue to work with the women’s rights movement, but says it is hard to think beyond the more pressing concern of finishing her college degree. She doesn’t yet know how she’ll manage. Still, she says, leaving Amherst “was the best decision I possibly could have made.” Her mental health has since improved vastly. To pay the bills, she works in a café and tutors high school students prepare for their college entrance examinations. While she, understandably, remains sceptical that university administrations will ever truly accommodate students who report rape, she is excited about the response that her op-ed piece has elicited from other survivors. “Things have just become so powerful recently,” she says, “Survivors are actually feeling like they have a voice, which is just unprecedented in the history of the feminist movement.” “[To] all the women and men out there who are survivors and are currently struggling,” she says: “Always remember that you are not alone, you are not dirty, and you are not broken. Most importantly, though, remember that you are loved. Be aware of what your rights are as a survivor, no matter where you are, and if you are not receiving the treatment that you deserve, then don’t be afraid to demand your rights or ask for help demanding your rights.” n open www.openthemagazine.com 29
photos ronny sen
j u d i c i a ry
Court of good intentions
India now has special courts trying cases of crimes against women. Is this a sound strategy to rid the system of judicial sexism? Divya Guha
M
alda town, or English Bazaar as
some know it, is a dismal place. But the stretch of countryside leading to this railway junction in West Bengal is certainly picturesque, with water bodies surrounded by date palms. The Farakka dam, brimming with water after a spell of rain, looks vast and emerald green. Much of the landscape is dotted with mango trees dangling Himsagars. This bucolic scene contrasts with the local news that 45 infants have died at the town’s government hospital because of malnutrition in the past two months. Malda district does not have much to show by way of progress, and life here can be nasty, brutish and short. Indeed, this area has even seen cases of witchhunting, with mobs putting male and female ‘witches’ to death on ‘charges’ of their supposed ill-will manifesting itself in epidemics, poor harvests or other such 5 august 2013
ladies only West Bengal reports the highest number of crimes against women in the country and so it is no surprise that India’s first court to deal exclusively with such cases was set up here in Malda town
maladies. Such killings count as murder under the law, but witchhunts were still being reported as of 2012. It’s early and women are marching their children to school—some of whom have school bags but no shoes, and others who have neither. I see almost no private cars, but plenty of white sarkari Ambassadors, goods carriers and shanty houses; and no metered public transport. On my cycle rickshaw ride from the station into town, I get a sense of the poverty around. There are heaps of rotting mango, slush after two days of rain and almost no greenery to redeem the filth of this town of 3.9 million. The district court complex is a cluster of old British and new boxy buildings packed with stenographers and dhabas, and a busy legal aid camp. Hawkers sell gems and rusty pieces of metal that look like shards of old horseshoes for luck. For reasons beyond me, the premises also host a healthy trade of garden plants. The bar association area looks mostly segregated. Older women advocates confine themselves to one half, where I see no men. In the other, there are some young women working away industriously who do not seem ill at ease among the men. Not unlike other courts, the daily hustle hides the gravity of the cases that are tried here. Trouble of many kinds ails 5 august 2013
West Bengal, which reports India’s highest number of offences against women, even though its female population is only the fourth highest in the country among all Indian states. Malda’s women’s courts, which have been newly set up alongside the old courtrooms in the district court complex, are purported to be the first of their kind in the country. They include a sessions court and a judicial magistrate’s
Mahila courts emerged in the 1990s. Here, the judge may ask all men—apart from case lawyers and the accused—to leave during a victim’s appearance court that were inaugurated in late January this year. Of the two, the sessions court has the power to pronounce death penalties; the other court deals with crimes for which no more than threeyear jail sentences may be awarded. They look like other courtrooms: cramped, with the judge’s desk on a platform, and full of old teak furniture. These functioned as the regular courts of an additional district judge and judicial magis-
trate until recently, but have been rechristened and reassigned with shiny new plaques declaring that they are ‘exclusively’ for trials of women-specific crimes. In both courts, the first clerks are women. Otherwise, the witness box—a raised square dais with railings on three sides—is the only feature that bears any sign of the drama that might go on here, and reminds me of shows on TV. The most common crimes committed against women in India involve abuse by in-laws, and the women of West Bengal suffer more of it than those of other states. The next most frequent are molestation, kidnapping and rape. But the district judge in Malda denies that the poor state of women’s rights in the state, as reflected in crime statistics, is why separate courts have been set up for them here. It was in the late 1970s that women’s groups first urged the government and Judiciary to institute special courts where the judge, her clerks and staff would all be female. ‘Mahila courts’ first emerged in the mid-1990s during Justice AM Ahmadi’s tenure as Chief Justice of India. These are courts where the judge may ask all men, apart from case lawyers and the accused, to leave the courtroom during a victim’s appearance; by partly relieving the victim of her inhibitions in speaking up, this measure aims to enhance the quality of evidence on record. But these courts have largely been a disappointment in assuring women free and fair trials in cases where they must guard their dignity.
T
he beginnings of the women’s
courts in Malda have not been auspicious. A woman clerk with a slashed face in the sessions court is amused when I ask her about the kind of cases tried here. She points me to a register that has several rows of ‘special cases’ listed, many of which are cases of electricity theft—referred to as ‘hooking’ matters by the local judicial staff—which is rampant in Malda district, with its scant infrastructure. It seems that while all of Malda’s women-related cases have been re-allocated to these courts, their judges are nonetheless expected to get through piles of old cases that were being processed before January. open www.openthemagazine.com 33
According to Malda-based Advocate Nargis Ara Khatoun, who has often worked in the women’s sessions court, the trials remain resigned to defence lawyers—often querulous men—who are free to pursue any line of questioning to establish the innocence of their clients. The earlier sexual history of assault victims, for example, continues to be dragged into such cases; this is a flagrant breach of rules, but is often deemed ‘relevant’ to the case. According to a judge speaking on condition of anonymity, the ban on its use as a defence tactic is flouted with impunity. At first glance this may seem odd in a state led by Mamata Banerjee, a woman who promised to adopt ‘ma, maati, manush’ (mother, earth, mankind) as her political philosophy on achieving power. But her irresponsible statements on rape since becoming Chief Minister have only fanned outrageous old attitudes of blaming the victim for somehow provoking her assault. The district judge, however, is confident that justice for women can be transformed for the better within three or four months and goals of these courts met. Going by the courts’ performance so far, this looks unlikely. For instance, at the end of March, the women’s court of the judicial magistrate had as many as 5,526 cases pending, with only 603 cases disposed of through trials in the weeks since January. Figures for the sessions court are not available.
W
ith the aim of meeting a plaintiff in the sessions court, I set out for the unfortunately named Goon Gaon, an Adivasi village a few kilometres from Malda. Nobody knows where this place is—not the punters in highway dhabas, not the roaming Adivasis, nor the truck drivers I ask, let alone the chemist and his compounder. Neither does my map. No one answers when I dial the police patrol. But the cops at a police station point me in the right direction. Deepali, the 26-year old Santhal I have come in search of, lives with her aunt Shojoni Rajbhanshi in a thatched mud house with a pucca room attached that has a small ceiling fan and serves as sleeping space. The narrow corridor that leads you in from the entrance smells of 34 open
mango being pickled. The house is bare but for child-like frescoes of flower motifs, a common feature across this tribal village. We sit under the whirring fan as she tells her story. Deepali is bringing up a year-old boy who she says was conceived with her rapist. She has unpleasant memories of the sessions court’s witness box. She felt exposed, she says; everybody in the courtroom was staring at her. There were not many men around, though there were some women who listened closely as she spoke. But there was something in their manner that made her feel their interest
was perfunctory, that they saw girls like her every day. According to her testimony, the first term of her pregnancy was kept secret because her late husband’s younger brother, the accused Raton Munda, demanded that she tell no one about the ‘ghotona’ (incident). Raton had promised to marry her, and she was five-months pregnant when he reneged on his offer. Afraid, she told her aunt and said she needed shelter. She had continued to live with her husband’s family in Mahajib Nagar, a nearby village in the district, after his death because she had no male guardian
too good to be true Malda’s special court may not shield women like Deepali (facing page), a rape victim, from unfair questions on their moral conduct
that makes convictions slower and that much harder to secure. Special courts, one would assume, are meant to operate in ‘fast-track’ mode, with trials undertaken without delays to lessen the suffering of victims in cases— such as rape—that involve trial-phase trauma. But these women’s courts in Malda have yet not been issued orders by the Calcutta High Court to fast-track the cases it deals with. Ironically, this facility had been in place at the old courts.
J
(her father too was dead and her mother had remarried). She was always seen as a burden by her in-laws, a burden made worse by her embarrassing pregnancy. The Mundas wanted nothing to do with an illegitimate child. When she’d told her in-laws that the baby she was expecting was Raton’s, she says, she was beaten with a bamboo beam as thick as the one holding up the roof under which we are seated. Shojoni is happy to have her niece live with her, but says having two extra mouths to feed is tough. On a more dramatic note, she asks, “What is a girl like Deepali to do? Take beesh (poison)?” Deepali, refreshed after an afternoon nap, does not strike me as suicidal. She is warm, smiles readily and giggles uncomfortably at her aunt’s intensity as she handles her son tenderly. Deepali has less sympathy in the village than she’d hoped. Local busybodies snigger at the mention of her name. About a year ago, her aunt had asked the local authority to organise a baithak, a meeting of village elders, to hold Raton to account. Deepali is willing to marry him for the sake of her son; as a Tribal woman with no money, property or male guardian, raising a child as a single mother will be far too difficult. 5 august 2013
Jawahar Raja, a lawyer, says it is too idealistic to expect that a separate court for women will fully insulate the justice system from male chauvinism But Raton denies ever having had sex with Deepali. His alibi is that he was off working for a government rozgar scheme at the time of the alleged rape. The child is not his, he says, and if a ‘blood test’ calls him out as the father, he would rather go to jail than marry her. A simple statefunded DNA test could settle the question of paternity, but epic backlogs mean an excruciating wait now that DNA tests are mandatory for all sexual assault cases. So the mystery persists. Hope for her comes in the form of an observation by the Delhi High Court in June that engaging a woman in sex on a false promise of marriage counts as rape. Yet, Deepali’s court proceedings may turn out like the village baithak, with her claim unproven. Justice in rape cases often comes down to the victim’s word against the accused’s, says a judge critical of the police for their shoddy forensic work
awahar Raja is a lawyer who represents plaintiffs in cases of domestic violence, dowry-related abuse and sexual assault. He has worked for a women’s rights NGO and says it is too idealistic to expect that a separate court for women will fully insulate the justice system from male chauvinism. “We live in a sexist world,” he says, “And a court is not outside society; all the axes of inequality that operate in the world enter the court system too.” And women, whether in remote villages, cities or advanced societies, are judged in extreme ways—be it as victims, defendants or witnesses, often with scrutiny unfairly brought to bear on their morality, especially sexual morality, regardless of whether they are married, single, divorced or promiscuous. Raja’s own politics is liberal, although he says it is just his day-to-day strategy as a lawyer: he has never represented a man in a rape or domestic violence case, but says that gender and class inform everything in society. He agrees that testifying in court is a bruising experience for anyone, but believes that to think that the court attendants, staff and judicial officers don’t do their utmost for the delivery of justice is wrong—even if judges are prone to biases. With women’s courts, it was hoped that this would be set right. But the courts in Malda, for the most part, are like any other. Their personnel receive no specialised training in understanding crimes of violence and abuse, or in treating victims with sensitivity. They offer women distressed during hearings no special relief services. If at all some measures are taken, or a rehabilitation package ordered, it is on account of the judge’s generosity. And that, alas, is how it always was. n open www.openthemagazine.com 35
dave M.Benett/getty images
u n d e rta k i n g
Birth of a Salesman As one of Andy Murray’s business managers and the man behind an ambitious tennis league, Mahesh Bhupathi has his hands full and suitcase always packed Akshay Sawai
S
oon after the US Navy Seals
killed Osama bin Laden, authorities released a picture of President Barack Obama and other government bigshots tracking the raid from the Situation Room of the White House. The picture became iconic and also fodder for internet humorists. They photoshopped a range of random characters—from superheroes to a velociraptor—into the picture. To intrigued followers of Indian tennis, Mahesh Bhupathi’s presence in Andy 36 open
Murray’s box during the Wimbledon final seemed similarly meme-like. Just what was a doubles specialist from India doing in the box of a Scottish player during the singles final? The answer to that question is Bhupathi, a winner of multiple doubles and mixed doubles Grand Slams, is one of Murray’s chief business managers. He has been so since April. Earlier in 2013, Bhupathi met Murray to ask him if he would play in the International Tennis
Premier League (ITPL), Bhupathi’s brainchild, modelled on Lalit Modi’s brainchild, which was modelled on the brainchildren of American sports founders. At that time Murray was looking for a new manager. He was the US Open and Olympic champion. Top agencies were vying for him. “Things were in transition vis-à-vis his management and he wanted some more time [for the ITPL decision],” Bhupathi says when we meet on a rainy afternoon at the office of his company, Globosport, in Khar, Mumbai. “He asked me for advice on some of the agencies pursuing him. I told him how he should be perceived as a brand. He was already the US Open and Olympic champion. Later that day I was in the airport lounge, waiting to board my flight to India. And he messaged me [asking] if we could talk more. I understood he liked my thought process. 5 August 2013
Team Murray-Bhupathi Andy Murray celebrates Championship point during the Gentlemen’s Singles Final match against Novak Djokovic on 7 July 2013 in London; (inset: L to R) Andy Murray, Mahesh Bhupathi and Rohan Bopanna attend ‘A Night With The Stars’ Barclays ATP World Tour Finals Gala on 17 November 2011 in London
mike hewitt/getty images
I told him if he thought I’d be able to help, then I would send him a presentation as well along with the other agencies wanting to work with him.” And that’s how everything started. “I’m flattered that he thinks I’m the one who will be able to deliver,” Bhupathi says. Globosport’s office is on Linking Road, one of Mumbai’s popular shopping districts. This is a street where people buy. Bhupathi’s mission is to sell. He has to sell Murray. He has to sell the ITPL, which is slotted for a NovemberDecember 2014 opening. He is well aware of this as he sits in a tidy cabin along the right vertical of the large room. Posters of the Gary Player Invitational and Sydney Olympic Games hang on the wall behind Bhupathi. The Olympics image is signed by Cathy Freeman, the Australian Aboriginal runner and 400m Olympic gold medallist. The golf mon5 August 2013
tage is signed by Gary Player and a few other golfers he does not remember. He likes sports memorabilia and bought the posters at an auction by International Management Group (IMG) during the Chennai Open tennis tournament one year. Bhupathi wears a striped semi-formal shirt with sleeves rolled up, jeans and a chunky leather strapped watch on his left wrist. Away from the fattening gaze of the camera and unflattering lines of baggy tennis clothes, he looks leaner and younger. He has got back from London a day earlier and seems afflicted by a leaky nose. A box of tissues is close at hand. Between answers and sniffles he keeps an eye on his phones, tablet or looks outside the window to his left. As usual, he is unfussy but not over-friendly. “Surreal” is how Bhupathi describes the day of the Wimbledon final. “The
amount of pressure Andy was under translated to all of us. I could barely sleep the previous night. We could see it in [Murray’s] reaction after winning. He kept looking down and shaking his head. The weight of the world was off his shoulders.” Bhupathi and the rest of the Murray team proceeded to the locker room after the match. “We embraced the trophy, something we wanted to do since we were kids. Andy was in a state of disbelief. He was just allowed a few minutes of breathing space. He took a shower and was whisked away for a two-hour media session.” Murray’s victory is of seismic proportions, especially in terms of money. Last year, Forbes estimated that he earned $12 million from prize money and endorsements (he has four major deals—Rado, Royal Bank of Scotland, Adidas apparel open www.openthemagazine.com 37
and Head racquets). According to Nigel Currie, director of the London-based sports marketing agency BrandRapport, the Wimbledon title could push Murray’s earnings this year to $75 million. That would take him past the eternally saleable Roger Federer. In 2012, even in his twilight phase, Federer was the game’s highest earning star, and the second highest in all sports after Tiger Woods, pocketing $71 million from wins and endorsements. For Murray, a jump from $12 million to $75 million seems difficult, taking nothing away from his achievements. But he should certainly be able to compete with the $26.9 million and $26 million made last year by Novak Djokovic and Rafael Nadal, respectively. The sheer scale of the sums and the number of possibilities mean a lot of work for Murray’s managers. There also are wont to be changes in the structure of his team. Bhupathi hints that things are in a state of flux but confirms that his position remains as before. Globosport has managed athletes before this, but nobody of Murray’s stature. Bhupathi so far functioned as just the face of the company, but with a Grand Slam and Olympic champion on board, he will be hands-on, day-to-day. The two speak daily. He also deals with the central figure in Murray’s life, his feisty mother Judy, and brother Jamie. And yes, sometimes there is a canine presence at the meetings. “Andy loves his dogs (Border terriers Maggie May and Rusty). If I’m meeting him at his home in London, they are around,” says Bhupathi. Being Murray’s manager also entails spending more time in London. Bhupathi has a furnished and fully stocked house in Kingston, not far from the All England Club. He does not have to worry about packing every time he flies to London. As a tennis professional, he is used to hectic travel, but being Murray’s manager and the ITPL boss has made his itinerary more intensive. This Wednesday Bhupathi was scheduled to be in Vietnam, on Thursday in Indonesia and later in the week in London. Asked how quickly he runs out of passport pages, Bhupathi says, “I just got a new booklet [of pages]. Luckily they have jumbo booklets now.” In many ways, Andy Murray is a reflection of his coach—former world No 1 38 open
Ivan Lendl. He is successful, fit and hardworking, but lacks flair. Lendl’s greatness is unquestioned. Even a most curmudgeonly rival like John McEnroe acknowledged his work ethic and pioneering training methods. But Lendl was seen as an automaton. He won more major titles than McEnroe or Boris Becker, but did not have their charisma and wasn’t anywhere as popular. It is the same with Murray. In the past 12 months, he has won two Grand Slams and the Olympic gold. This is more than what Djokovic, the world No 1, Federer or Nadal have achieved in the same period. But except in Britain, Murray does not have the popular appeal of the other three. Asked how, as Murray’s manager, he’d overcome this, Bhupathi says, “As of now Andy has won two majors. The more titles he wins, the more his appeal will grow.” But that is then. What about now? “For now, the focus is mainly Britain,” Bhupathi says.
Mahesh Bhupathi’s mission is to sell. He has to sell Murray. He has to sell the ITPL, which is slotted for a November-December 2014 opening Sponsorship deals that extend beyond Murray’s playing career are Bhupathi’s aim. “I pride myself in being able to bring in an enhanced deal with a certain kind of value,” Bhupathi says. “Andy is the reigning Wimbledon, US Open and Olympic champ. He is the one with the muscle. If people want to be associated with him, they have to be open to creating deals that will show his value way past his playing career.” Murray, on his part, is pumped about taking some more chances with his image or endorsements, which he was not comfortable doing earlier. Evidence of this approach was the intimate, all-access interviews he granted BBC One for a documentary, The Man behind the Racquet, before Wimbledon. Murray broke down while talking about the most traumatic experience of his life, the massacre of 16 children and a teacher at his school in Dunblane, Scotland, by a crazed gun-
man. The then eight-year-old Murray survived the attack by hiding under a desk. People knew about Dunblane but the documentary further humanised Murray to his audience. The conversation moves to the ITPL, Bhupathi’s other major project at which Murray is likely to be a major attraction. At first glance, the ITPL seems too ambitious and logistically complex. It is planned over three weeks across six yetto-be-confirmed Asian and Middle Eastern cities. Elite tennis players rarely give an event three weeks at a stretch, especially one that is uncharted territory and involves so much travel. Besides, the format of the matches—just one set—is seen by many as frivolous. Besides, the popularity of tennis is closely linked to the four majors. The rest of the tournaments have only a niche following. For a sport like this, and in this tough economy, would there be buyers for $12 million franchises? It is not a very big sum in this day and age but not a small one either. Bhupathi touches a button on his tablet and pushes the device across the table. It plays an audio-visual promo for the ITPL. The film has the cream of tennis talking up the tournament. Djokovic, Murray, Nadal and Serena Williams, among others, praise the idea and express excitement. Djokovic even says the idea could be ‘revolutionary’. In addition, Bhupathi has on his side top marketers and former players. Boris Becker is reportedly one of the investors. But Bhupathi still has to sell the franchises. Sceptical remarks about the event cause Bhupathi’s voice to quiver in indignation. “I wouldn’t be wasting my time flying across Asia like this, if I did not think it was possible,” he snaps in response to a question. “I’ve got what I need, I’ve got the muscle power to sell the league. Once I sell it, things will fall into place. If this was easy it would already have been done. I understand the [sheer size] of the challenge. But I think tennis is crying out for something new. And the new generation of players are excited about it.” Personal differences prevented Bhupathi’s on-court partnership with Leander Paes from living up to full potential. Hopefully, that will not happen with Team Murray-Bhupathi or the ITPL. n 5 August 2013
f ly b a l l
Lucknow to Hollywood A movie starring Mad Men’s Jon Hamm will immortalise the remarkable story of Rinku Singh and Dinesh Patel, who went from small-town javelin throwers to big league baseball relief pitchers in America
doug benc/getty images
RYAN WHIRTY
J batting for the other side Rinku Singh and Dinesh Patel found a new life in baseball
on Hamm, lead actor on the Emmy-
winning American TV show Mad Men, may get top billing on Disney’s upcoming true-life sports film Million Dollar Arm, but behind the scenes, two of the key driving forces behind the movie are a pair of modest Indian athletes who made the seemingly impossible jump from humble beginnings in Lucknow to international fame—simply by picking up a baseball in America for the first time in their lives. open www.openthemagazine.com 39
Lucknow boys Rinku Singh and Dinesh Patel both trained competitively throwing javelins in their youth, heaving the 2.5-metre-long spear countless times each day. Now they are preparing to see their life story play out on the big screen when Million Dollar Arm hits theatres across the world in 2014. It’s all due to their crash-course in baseball, courtesy a visionary American TV promoter, producer and agent, JB Bernstein, played in the film by Hamm. For Singh, who is still under the wing of the Pittsburgh Pirates and is gradually working up through lower level baseball leagues, the experience has been exciting. Singh’s character will be played by Life of Pi star Suraj Sharma, and to him, the fact that an actor from an Academy Award-winning movie will be portraying him on the big screen is little short of miraculous. “To hear that they were working on a movie was just really exciting,” Singh says over the telephone from Bradenton, Florida, where he is living at the Pirates’ training complex. “I was very excited to hear that I’d be meeting the guys who are playing us. They were great. We had a good time with them. I never thought I’d be meeting all the celebrities that I’ve been meeting.” The actors, director Craig Gillespie (of Lars and the Real Girl fame) and other film officials worked closely with Singh, Patel and Bernstein as they filmed in several locations in India, before returning to the US to complete shooting. The whole group, for example, arrived in Atlanta to film scenes on the baseball field at Georgia Tech University, where the cast—which also includes Bill Paxton and Aasif Mandvi— crew and subjects mingled, exchanged stories and learnt stuff from each other. “They were so nice to us,” Singh says of the stars, “We had a great time with them, just hanging out on the set.” Patel, meanwhile, went only so far in baseball and was released by the Pirates in December 2010. He is back in India now, completing his BA at Mahatma Gandhi Kashi Vidyapith University in Varanasi and refocusing on javelin training. In the film, he’s being portrayed by Madhur Mittal of Slumdog Millionaire— 40 open
another Oscar-winning film—and, like Singh, couldn’t have imagined the events of the last few years, especially being the subject of a major motion picture. ‘My life has changed considerably since the movie has been made,’ Patel says. ‘I cannot believe a major Hollywood studio is making a movie about it. It still feels like a dream.’ The email format of the interview and Patel’s quiet nature make it difficult for him to put into perspective how much
“These kids went from never having picked up or touched a baseball to reliefquality baseball players in under a year,” says Jon Hamm, “That’s insane” his and his family’s lives have changed thanks to the film. But Bernstein confirms that Patel and Singh were handsomely paid for the movie. He says, “They are getting paid, but we do not release our clients’ compensation for deals [to anyone else]. You can say that they are being compensated by Disney very well, and both boys have been able to help their families out dramatically.”
M
illion Dollar Arm tells the tale of
Bernstein, who, about six years ago, came up with an idea for a television
reality show: to mine a country of more than a billion people for latent talent in baseball, the classic American sport that bears a strong resemblance to cricket. Bernstein organised Million Dollar Arm, at which 37,000 contestants from across India competed to throw a baseball the hardest—or, in baseball parlance, the best fastball pitch—for a chance at $1 million. While none of the competitors threw fast enough to win that ultimate prize, Singh and Patel stood first and second, respectively, with their pitching ‘heat’. Singh’s 87 mph effort also won him $100,000. Both earned tryouts in front of dozens of baseball talent scouts in the US. This led to contracts with the Pittsburgh Pirates, who inked Singh and Patel to minor-league deals, making the pair the first Indian nationals to earn professional sports contracts in the US. While the movie focuses primarily on the transformative experience Bernstein underwent as part of the Million Dollar Arm saga, the American promoter himself says the story wouldn’t have existed without the hard work, dedication and perseverance of the two contest winners, Singh and Patel. “First and foremost, I’m so proud of Rinku and Dinesh and what they accomplished,” Bernstein says. “What made the story great was that these guys had done something that they knew nothing about; [they] came out and tried it for the first time and were successful.” “They didn’t even know baseball existed,” he adds, “and like a month later, they’re signing minor-league contracts. That, in and of itself, was something no one thought would ever be possible.” Even the stars of the Million Dollar Arm movie came away impressed after meeting Singh and Patel on set. While Disney now is tightly regulating media coverage of the film’s production, the interviews granted by the production company reflect the admiration for Singh and Patel that Hollywood bigwigs have. “These kids went from never having picked up or touched a baseball to reliefquality baseball players in under a year,” Hamm told Variety earlier this month. “That’s insane.” Relievers enter games 5 August 2013
when the starting pitcher has tired or isn’t pitching well anymore for some reason. In an interview with The Sporting News, Hamm expressed similar thoughts, especially highlighting the mentor-student relationship between Bernstein and the two young men, all of whose lives and worldviews were transformed by the Million Dollar Arm experience. Hamm also likened the two’s rise to a degree of wealth and fame with his own ascent to the cream of the Hollywood crop, thanks to his iconic character on Mad Men, Don Draper. “It’s a great story, and it’s a true story,” Hamm told Sporting News writer Ryan Fagan last month. “The reason I was attracted to doing the [film] is that it’s a good, old-fashioned coming-of-age, father/son type of story, even though there are no fathers and no sons, really. It’s just a nice story about hard work, and coming up with a big idea and seeing it through... They were just willing to apply themselves and commit to the programme and maximise the opportunity.” Hollywood power player Mark Ciardi, one of the producers of the film—who is known to be a backer of similar inspirational sports movies like Miracle, the story of the US ice hockey team’s improbable triumph over the Soviet Union at the 1980 Winter Olympics—told Sports Business Journal’s Terry Lefton earlier this month that the Million Dollar Arm tale actually carries a much more significant message than that of simply throwing a baseball really fast. “Any great sports movie is not really about sports,” Ciardi said. “This film is about a man’s growth and finding a family he didn’t know he was looking for. That kind of redemptive arc in a character happens in any great movie.”
R
unning parallel to the evolving
Million Dollar Arm story is a concerted effort on the part of US baseball officials to promote the sport in the world’s second most populous country. For example, in February, Major League Baseball (MLB)—the highest level of the sport in the US—announced an outreach initiative in India, led by Baseball Hall of Famer Barry Larkin. Larkin visited the country to lead baseball ‘clinics’ and speak about the importance of diversity
5 August 2013
and sports in the modern age. For the project, MLB is teaming up with USA Softball (a kind of variant of baseball, often played by women) and the US State Department, which views sport as a way to improve relations with important emerging economies like India. In addition, many believe the film version of Million Dollar Arm will help open the world’s eyes to India’s vast athletic potential. While entertainment and sports reps in the States feel a desire to impressively represent America and its ‘national pastime’ to the vast Indian populace, both Singh and Patel have, from the time they were announced the winners of the first season of Bernstein’s reality show, recognised their roles as ambassadors of India to the United States and its baseball-crazy audience. ‘When I was in the US, I definitely felt like I was representing my country,’ Patel says. ‘I felt a great sense of pride doing that and hope to represent India in baseball in the future.’ While he no longer pitches or plays baseball professionally, Patel still loves the sport and wants to remain active promoting it in India. “I think baseball has a great opportunity in India,” he says, “but it will require effort and time to make it popular. Contests like Million Dollar Arm can really help. It can happen, and I hope to be involved in making it happen.” Singh, meanwhile, is doggedly pursuing his pro baseball career and developing into a quality relief pitcher in the Pirates’ minor-league system. He also spent the last off season hurling the ball for the Adelaide Bite in the Australian Baseball League. An August 2012 article in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette emphasised how Singh, now almost 25, has evolved, thanks to constant hard work, from a novelty or curiosity on the American baseball field into a legitimate Major League prospect. ‘When the Pirates signed a television reality show winner from India a few years ago,’ wrote Post-Gazette reporter Michael Sanserino, ‘some thought the move was a gimmick. But Singh is proving this gimmick’s got game.’ ‘He has immersed himself in baseball ever since he signed on with the Pirates in November 08,’ Sanserino added. ‘He is trying to become the first Indian-born
player to make the major leagues, although he has already come much further than anyone else from his country.’ Singh’s fastball continues to increase in speed, and he has quickly developed other pitches to add to his repertoire. Unfortunately, he is currently recuperating from a forearm injury, but he’s using the same optimism and drive in this challenge that he has applied since he first tried out for Bernstein’s show five years ago. Making the major leagues remains his ultimate goal. But Singh is also aware that he continues to represent his country and especially his hometown of Lucknow and home state of Uttar Pradesh, a responsibility he takes seriously as he strives to overcome injury and improve his abilities. “I’m never going to quit learning,” he says, adding that he hopes to be ready for spring training in 2014. “That’s baseball—you never become perfect. You always have to work on something, some way. So I know I need to keep working. I have to keep moving forward and keep my head at 100 percent... If I make it in baseball, baseball could be huge in India. It’s not just about playing for myself. I’m working to represent my country and open doors for others. I’m working my ass off to give them the opportunity I’ve had. That motivates me. A lot of people [in India] don’t get the opportunities I have, so I can’t wait to get where I want to be in the Major League and make my dream come true. I believe I have the ability, and as long as I never quit learning, it’s going to happen one day.” Bernstein says that just like Singh has taken naturally to baseball—a sport the youngster had never even tried till a few years ago—the baseball culture in America has accepted him (and Patel) as its own. “Rinku and Dinesh were the only Indian people a lot of the other players and coaches had ever met,” Bernstein says. “They have been amazing representatives of their country and their families. And it’s so satisfying to see them get that exposure.” “These guys have become like children to me,” Bernstein adds, echoing Hamm’s emotional interpretation of their story. “It’s very gratifying for me to sit back and know that all their success is so well deserved.” n open www.openthemagazine.com 41
pleasure
That Elusive Orgasm Many women in India do not climax, and men alone are not to blame Aastha Atray Banan
I
t is 11 pm and a party is underway at a posh Juhu bungalow. The crowd is mostly filmi. There are actors, scriptwriters, directors, photographers, cinematographers, film archivers and the odd journalist and lawyer, too. A group of five is talking about whether Lootera is worth a watch, another about the message of Ship of Theseus, and yet another about how one can afford to live in a bungalow with a garden in Mumbai. In a corner of the room, I am standing with a 37-year-old lawyer from Delhi and a 32-year-old screenplay writer who works in Mumbai. The lawyer is unmarried and the screenplay writer got hitched a few months ago. As party conversations go, this one has taken an interesting turn. We are talking
of the female orgasm—or lack thereof. “My grandmom told me when I was 17 that women often have the best orgasms when they pleasure themselves,” says the screenplay writer, “I think she said it so I wouldn’t go and fornicate at that age, but today, I feel she is right.” She then rolls her eyes. “No way, I told her then; I was going to have mind-blowing sex. But it’s a lot of work. Faking it just seems so easy.” The lawyer nods knowingly: “Men can’t really know what to do—a woman has to be in control of her own orgasm, or else it really won’t happen. You need to own your orgasm and work at it.” Some days later, as we watch a band sing retro hits at a Mumbai club, I broach the subject with a 30-year-old married friend, and she whispers, “So right! I faked
it on my honeymoon. I just couldn’t get into the mood and wanted to get it over with. There is just too much you need to invest in an orgasm, and it doesn’t happen most of the time. It’s an elusive being.” It has taken around 15 conversations with women across lines of age, marital status and profession for me to say this, but the female orgasm may need to be put on the endangered list.
M
ost women I have spoken to admit
they first orgasmed only once they took matters into their own hands. Others say they need to stimulate themselves during sex, or that penetrative sex does not make them climax. Many say they often don’t even bother with the big O. A multitude of studies endorse those findings. Among many others before and after, a 2010 study by British researchers from University of Central Lancashire and University of Leeds reports that almost 80 per cent of women fake their orgasms. According to another study by Farnaz Kaighobadi, a postdoctoral researcher at Columbia University, women often fake orgasms to hang on to their partners. This piece of research, published in America’s Journal Archives of Sexual Behavior in 2011, notes that almost 54 per cent women simulate the external manifestations of a sexual release. According to the findings of a study done by researchers at University of Pennsylvania and published this June in Evolution & Human Behavior, women tend to achieve better orgasms with handsome, masculine and dominant men. You might remember Meg Ryan giving Billy Crystal a lesson on how easy it is to fake an orgasm in When Harry Met Sally. A 30-year-old public relations consultant I spoke to says though she had been caught faking it a couple of times, she could often fool her husband. But lately, she has turned frank, telling him,
“Honey, it ain’t happening tonight.” Says she, with a laugh, “We got into a huge fight the other day because he insisted on having sex on a weeknight. I was like, ‘Why don’t we save this for Sunday afternoon?’ On Sundays, we’d have time to try different positions and other inventive stuff. And I need to get used to things before they start working for me.” She is clear about what she wants. She does not like being rushed, and does not want to try acrobatic positions that girls in porn clips make look so easy. She has a pink vibrator that she uses to get herself off after a sex session that does not satisfy her. “My husband understands.” The rarity of orgasms is a common affliction, she agrees. “First of all, it takes time for a woman to get turned on. It takes a lot of foreplay, a lot of teasing, and slowly but steadily you start reaching that point. It can’t be rushed. And sometimes it just takes too much time to bother with it.” Second, she says, most men don’t really know what to do. “If they get one thing right, they get another wrong. It’s a combination of many things. I orgasm every time I do it to myself because I know exactly what to do.”
T
hat could mean the PR consultant knows how to locate her G-spot. That is, if it exists at all. According to Wikipedia, the female ‘Gräfenberg Spot’, named after a German gynaecologist who first reported it, is supposed to be a bean-shaped part of the vagina, an ‘erogenous zone which, when stimulated, can lead to strong sexual arousal, powerful orgasms and female ejaculation’. Many women consider the G-spot a myth, and sexologists are often concerned that women think of themselves as dysfuctional if they can’t locate their own. A 2012 study by Adam Ostrzenski, MD, PhD, Institute of Gynecology in St Petersburg, reported in The Journal of
arman zhenikeyev/corbis
Sexual Medicine, suggests that the G-spot indeed exists. After studying a cadaver (imagine that), Ostrzenski wrote that the G-spot is a well-delineated sac structure located on the dorsal (back) perineal membrane, 16.5 mm from the upper part of the urethral meatus, creating a 35 degree angle with the lateral (side) border of the urethra. If not mythical, that sounds like Greek, and as the 37-year-old lawyer says, “If there’s a magical spot, wouldn’t it all be easy?” She has had these conversations with her friends and now knows that no one is alone. An orgasm is rare so long as it’s left to a man. “Many women feel bad they can’t orgasm,” she says, “because we are conditioned by the books we read and porn we watch—which show women orgasming after five minutes. Even men think that’s possible and they get frustrated when it doesn’t happen.” The lawyer says she didn’t have an orgasm till she was 30, despite having been sexually active in her twenties. “I realised that enough was enough, and I [stimulated] myself during sex and that’s how it happened the first time. Also, in your twenties, men are not mature enough to enjoy oral sex, especially if they are the ones giving it.” She also says that for most women, it has more to do with the mind. “While having sex, men keep their minds blank. But women are thinking about many things… and they really have to focus on orgasming. You have to focus all your energy on it—till you reach an edge. For a long time, I thought I was frigid, but most women I know now are going through this.” She spends a lot of time pleasuring herself now, and says she is glad to be with a man who understands its necessity. “Also, for women, sex is not necessary to be in love or a relationship.” That an orgasm is a woman’s job is a belief widely shared. “For men, it’s a functional thing,” says a 27-year-old journalist, “They might be watching cricket and can orgasm like that. But for women, you need to be comfortable, in the mood and turned on.” For example, she says, she was recently with a man she found attractive. The first time they had sex, she was drunk. All she remembers is that it was acrobatic. The next time, though, as she headed off to meet him at his place, she knew they were going to have sex and 44 open
so she had ‘titillated’ herself in her head well in advance. “I kept thinking about him all day. I thought of what we would do to each other, of how sexy he was. By the time I reached his house, I was wet and turned on enough… and when we had sex, it was awesome.” The journalist remembers another time with another lover. “The first time we did it, it was okay. But as I rolled off and lit a cigarette, he pulled me right back. And that was surprising and erotic and I orgasmed rightaway.” Often, she says, she fantasises another man while in bed with her boyfriend: “You think about having sex with George Clooney in a shed. It works every time.” She also thinks that men should not take offence if a woman pleasures herself during the act. “It’s good for them as they find it erotic to see a woman touch herself. But when you are having sex with a man, you are also stroking his ego. That gets hurt sometimes if you don’t make him feel
“We are conditioned by books and porn, which show women orgasming after five minutes. Men think that’s possible and get frustrated when it doesn’t happen” like he is the best lover in the world.” Her best lover is her vibrator—which she says gives her an orgasm each time and doesn’t need a pep talk. “You just need to switch the batteries.” But she also says there are times that she does experience awesome orgasms with her man, even if it takes extra work. “I don’t consider myself an unfulfilled woman as now my lover knows all there is to know about what pleasures me. He knows how to push all the right buttons. I can come in a matter of minutes at times, and that’s the best feeling ever.” Sreemoyee Piu Kundu, author of Faraway Music, who is currently writing a work of erotica titled Sita’s Curse, advocates that every woman pleasure herself. Her book opens with her heroine, Meera, doing exactly that. “[An] orgasm is a very intimate thing for a woman,” says Sreemoyee Piu Kundu, “It’s an internal surrender and a private dialogue.”
During her research for the new book, Sreemoyee Piu Kundu was shocked that several women she spoke to balked at her questions about watching porn or masturbating. “They were shocked, and I was like, ‘What’s wrong in that?’” To her, it’s a superlative experience: like an intensely rewarding read. “A female orgasm is like coming to the edge of a cliff and falling backwards with your eyes closed. A woman needs to be turned on with words, seduced, touched, caressed, licked and sucked. It’s like a story and every chapter builds up to climax.”
D
r Mahinder Watsa, a sexologist
who writes a popular sex column for Mumbai Mirror, says most men are in such a hurry to get themselves off that the woman doesn’t stand a chance. “Men get aroused in a second and then just want to orgasm. So they tend to initiate intercourse when women are not ready—since women need foreplay— and hence it never happens for them.” Women often ask Dr Watsa for tricks to get an orgasm. He has one key piece of advice. “I tell them to ask their men for more foreplay. Or, once the man orgasms, they should help themselves with vibrators or shower sprays. Women can have multiple orgasms in short gaps.” That ability, sadly, is not being made the most of. Until women start demanding that their lovers spend more than just half an hour or so on foreplay, they will live in a land of no orgasms. However, as a 30-year-old single man says, women often spoil it by “overthinking it all”. According to him, “This additional information of what turns you on, what leads to orgasms and all that jazz is confusing... There should never be a conversation about good sex or good orgasms—because it varies for everyone. How can you have a checklist of what is good? What women need to do is vocalise what they want [to their lovers]. There is nothing more satisfying than pleasuring a woman.” The single man also feels that it’s all about living in the moment and enjoying it. “Women are more focused on what they want than what they are getting,” he says with a sigh of resignation. “Enjoy what you are getting,” he advises, “and the rest will follow.” n 5 august 2013
mindspace true Life
Farewell, Premier Padmini
63
O p e n s pa c e
Salman Khan Shah Rukh Khan Ranveer Singh
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D-Day Ship of Theseus
61 Cinema reviews
Trailblazer 2 Oris Calobra Limited Edition Acer Iconia W3-810
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Tech & style
Microbes and Evolution Breastfeeding and ADHD Pathways to New Words
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Science
Raanjhanaa Makers’ Ideas of Love
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cinema
The Infatuations An Encounter With a Negotiator
books
The Bar Dancer Turned Writer
46 64
ritesh uttamchandani
an extraordinary life The story of a former sex worker and bar dancer who is now a successful Bollywood scriptwriter 46
true life
Shagufta Rafique became a sex worker at the age of 17, joined bar-dancing some years later, and now finds success as a film scriptwriter
The bar dancer who became a writer
ritesh uttamchandani
W
hen I was around 12 years old,
my elder brother and his wife once confronted me. I had gotten into an altercation with his son. It was nothing but a childish tiff, but they were livid. They told me to learn to behave as I was after all an adopted child. Those words, so easily spoken, completely crumbled my world. I had never known that I was adopted. It was strange because all this while I had be-
5 August 2013
lieved that this house and this family belonged to me. Suddenly, with those few words, everything changed. Then I came to hear another rumour—that my elder sister (Saeeda Khan, a former Bollywood actress) was in fact my mother. That I was a love child who she had given to her mother’s care. Saeeda had married Brij Sadanah (who produced many successful films in the 1960s and 1970s, like Do Bhai, Ye Raat Phir Na Aayegi, Ustadon Ke Ustad, Night in London and Victoria No. 203) when I was about three years old. It was not a flattering remark, but when I was a kid I sometimes liked to believe that my mother was Saeeda. It made me happy to think that my biological mother was an actress. But this wasn’t the only story that did the rounds. Others included how I had been given for adoption by slum-dwellers, and another that the woman who had borne me was a maid who had slept with a wealthy barrister. As a child, the news that I could have been born in a slum upset me immensely. But I would try and convince myself that I couldn’t be the daughter of a ‘nobody’ since I had expensive tastes. A friend pointed out that it was likely that my father was a barrister because I was very argumentative and aggressive. I tried to keep myself happy this way. But I think all these stories affected me. I became withdrawn, lonely and introverted. My mother, Anwari Begum, loved me immensely but she never told me who my biological parents were. And she rebuked me whenever I brought up the topic. Around the same time, my father passed away. We started doing poorly financially. My brother had his own financial burdens and a family to take care of. My mother started to borrow money. Saeeda helped us a bit, but I think her husband wasn’t too happy about it. We started selling items from the house and pawning whatever little jewellery my mother owned. I accompanied my mother to all these places, and I started to feel miserable about it. Here was this lady who had raised me even though I wasn’t her own, and
now when she was going through a tough time, I wasn’t able to help her. One day, a friend of my mother told us that I could make money if I danced in private parties. I had been learning Kathak since a very young age and was a reasonably good dancer. My mother didn’t force me, but I took up the offer. I was still 12 then. These parties happened in seedylooking flats across Bombay. You’d have the average fellow, but often also top bureaucrats and politicians. They’d come there with hookers and their mistresses. They’d get drunk and if they liked my dance, would shower money on me. I distinctly remember the feeling of happiness as I picked up the rupee notes. I was safe because my job only involved dancing and my mother always accompanied me. But the place had the smell and feel of a brothel. I was pursuing my studies too, but performing miserably. I quit school when I reached Class 7. I was happy though. I was dancing almost every alternate night now and could support my mother and myself. This went on till I reached 17. During a performance one night, a drunk middle-aged man picked me up forcefully. He wanted me to dance with him, but I was very scared. Nothing like this had ever happened. My mother was there too. He kept twirling me and I kept screaming. But nobody came to my rescue. I was so shaken that I stopped dancing. So we gave a room in our house on rent to a few sex workers I had come to know at parties. The neighbourhood soon complained, and we couldn’t keep them anymore. Apparently this was a neighbourhood of ‘respectful’ people and our house was now a brothel. I was extremely angry. Yes, these women were sex workers, but they were not bad people. They were just earning their livelihood. Partly because of this anger, and because we needed the money, I got in touch with a pimp who worked with one of our tenants. He was a nice guy and initially hesitant to work with me because I hadn’t even turned 18. But then he set me up with a client. And then the chain started—from one man open www.openthemagazine.com 47
to another. From the age of 17 right up till the age of 27. My family came to know about what I was doing. Saeeda in fact spoke to me a few times about how I should think about the future. It was a difficult phase, and after a point, I was looking to get out of it. Through family connections, I was able to work with Mahesh Bhatt saab as an assistant director in a few films in the 1990s. But I was way down in the pecking order, wasn’t making enough money, and the content of those films then didn’t interest me either. I had to quit and get back to the profession. Thankfully, I never got caught by the police. I would mostly work in big hotels and entertain rich clients, so I was always protected. I remember, though, on one occasion policemen entered a room where I was with a client. I was scared of being put behind bars. But the man was able to convince the cops that I was his wife. Then another tragedy struck. In a drunken moment, Brij saab shot my sister, his daughter and son, before turning the gun on himself. Nobody is sure of the reason, but I suspect he was upset over how poorly his films were performing. My sister was bleeding in my arms when I took her to hospital. Only her son survived. In another few years, I learnt about beer bars in Dubai. And how I could make a lot more money just by dancing and not having to sleep with anyone. I took this up without hesitation. I would travel to Dubai and perform every night for three months at a stretch. We would return to India, and then travel to Dubai again when we got a call for work. It was not an easy job. The hotel would take 60 per cent of the money we made, and we would share the remaining 40 per cent. So there was pressure on each one of us to make as much money as possible. We would dance from 9 in the night till 5 in the morning, with very little breaks. I was especially hard-working. I started singing in the bars too. Everyone would ask where I got the energy from—but I was just happy to be there, making enough money without having to sleep with anyone. After a few years, my mother was 48 open
diagnosed with colon cancer. So I returned and started working in beer bars here. The conditions here, in comparison to Dubai, were terrible. There would be frequent police raids too over the issue of closing time violations, when we’d be hidden as if we were prostitutes. Once, there was a raid at a Santa Cruz bar. We were all locked up in a dark, dingy room for over 20 minutes. I remember feeling miserable and helpless. I wanted to get out of it some way. At this time, perhaps to find solace or an escape from this profession, I
After the f ilm released, Bhatt saab said he wanted me
to write a script for a new f ilm (Woh Lamhe). He said I could now give up dancing. But to me this
seemed just too fantastical to be true. A few days later, I had an offer letter from Vishesh Films
started writing film scripts. I met many people from the industry but never got a break. I pursued Bhatt saab for many years too. He promised to help me, but no suitable work was found. Then my mother passed away. There was nothing left for me to do here. I was going to travel to Dubai for another stint in its beer bars when I got a call from Bhatt saab. He, along with director Mohit Suri, was working on the rough cut of the film Kalyug. They wanted an outside perspective of the film. After sitting through the rough cut, I quite
confidently told them that the film required a few additional scenes. I thought the film was good but lacked scenes where the characters’ emotional make-up could be fleshed out. I was given two hours to write these portions. If they liked it, they would incorporate it. It must have been one of the most nervous moments of my life. I realised then that this was my chance. If I blew it, I would have had no other option but to continue working in a beer bar. After much hesitation, I sent them my suggestions. Both of them liked those bits and they made it to the film. After the film released, Bhatt saab said he wanted me to write a script for a new film (Woh Lamhe). He said I could now give up dancing. But to me this seemed just too fantastical to be true. I told him, “No disrespect to you, sir, but I won’t quit dancing till the project comes up.” A few days later, I had an offer letter from Vishesh Films, Mahesh Bhatt’s production house. The day I signed it, I quit dancing too. Thankfully Woh Lamhe was successful and I got more projects. During this time, Bhatt saab would get anonymous calls telling him of my past and suggesting that he should keep away from me. We never got to know who these people were. Perhaps someone I had known during my dancing days or from my extended family. Some in the industry say I should not talk about that phase anymore, or I won’t get more work. I know that my past has been terrible. But I don’t regret it really. And I don’t want to hide it. I did what I had to. I fell in love quite a few times too. I was once even on the verge of marrying a Pakistani businessman I had met in Dubai. But he fell ill and eventually died. I think all these experiences make me richer as an individual. They keep me grounded and help me write honestly. I think it is true that only a prostitute can see the real world. I am now trying to start off as a director. I have my script ready and Pooja Bhatt has agreed to produce the film. Hopefully, my experiences will help me as a director too. n As told to Lhendup G Bhutia 5 August 2013
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Books The Impermanence of Being In Javier Marías’ writing, nothing is sacred, no fact safe from doubt, no story left unflipped devika bakshi
the infatuations
By Javier Marías Translated by Margaret Jull Costa hamish hamilton | 346 pages | Rs 550
J arthur selbach/getty images
avier Marías’ The Infatuations has an alluring premise: a woman, María Dolz, admires a beautiful and happy couple, Miguel and Luisa Deverne, while breakfasting at the same café every day for years, draw-
ing great comfort from their presence. After a brief trip out of town, she discovers the man has been brutally murdered in the street. Her new infatuation with the dead man’s best friend, Javier Díaz-Varela, becomes a conduit for her continuing fascination with the couple. As the book winds its way through long, fleshy—and sometimes frustratingly thorough—considerations of love, death and other big words, Maria drifts carelessly towards the truth of the murder, and we, if we persist through what I gather are the
author’s characteristic musings, are allowed to discover what they were for. Persistence, it must be said, is required, though the rewards are plenty. For those who enjoy taking a machete to an intellectual thicket (to borrow and rearrange the words of Captain Jack Sparrow), or even watching someone else do so, the 346 pages of this book are a veritable jungle. But if you are the sort to surrender to a novel’s internal logic and take it very seriously, you might find your normal modes of reasoning grown over, as mine were,
by the author’s universal scepticism. You might also become a touch obsessed with death for a few days. Full disclosure: this is the first and only work by Javier Marías I’ve ever read, a fact that ought to disqualify me from reviewing it. But I’ll argue a fresh eye serves Marías’ style. The density of this book, its willingness to stop for a wrestle with the slightest passing existential dilemma, is better absorbed by the energetic uninitiated reader. I suppose I’m saying I think being new to Marías enabled me not to get sick of him halfway through this tremendous book—and I’m glad for it. For much of the book, certainly the first half, one seems to be meandering through a superbly furnished—if not overfurnished—museum of metaphysical inquiry, and it helps if you don’t think much about where you’re headed and just keep going until you get there. Once ‘there’, it becomes clear the author’s narrative style—an exhaustive consideration of all interpretive possibilities of any event or situation—is pertinent to the novel’s plot. The characters are mouthpieces, yes, but not mere mouthpieces. And though it might seem so at first, the plot is not simply a Lady Gaga meat dress layered onto the novel’s philosophical skeleton in order to make it cohere. The novel’s narrative and its ‘story’— if you’ll permit a ‘straw man’ distinction—are organic to each other. Had I read him before, this process may not have been nearly as deceptive and beguiling as it was. This is a brazenly speculative counterfactual, but seeing as the book and writer in question both seem enthusiastic advocates of precisely this sort of strident conjecture, I’ll allow it. I will allow myself, as Marías does his characters, to be judge, jury, defendant and both lawyers to make the most improbable arguments with complete earnestness and come to a conclusion that suits me. Marías endows all his characters with this peculiar sort of arrogance— a swollen ego, the confidence to speak with complete authority with little concern for counters and contradictions, mastery of their own narrative— a total dominance reflected in Javier 5 august 2013
Díaz-Varela’s sense of being ‘the only one who can tell the tale’. This power is paramount. John Berger wrote in his 2008 novel From A to X that ‘the first reality is story’. In The Infatuations, Marías repeatedly asserts the vulnerability of ‘reality’, of verifiable fact, to the infinite interpretive possibilities of story. That the story is being told by someone gives rise to an uncertainty that looms large over the novel, because people cannot be trusted to be constant; people, as Díaz-Varela puts it, ‘start out seeing one thing and end up seeing quite the opposite’. Certainty is perpetually embattled by the potential for retelling. But the novel repeatedly suggests that narrative is also the solution to uncertainty—characters tell and retell their
In her conversation with María, then still a stranger, Luisa ponders the belief ‘that what has ceased to happen is not as bad as what is happening, and that we should find relief in that cessation’—the idea that the past is an imagined refuge for present trauma stories as a way of neutralising the ambiguity of events, and the reader must constantly renegotiate her scepticism. A similar battle is ongoing throughout the novel between memory and impermanence, each of which is a solution to the other. Death is traumatic because it reminds us of the impermanence of things, and also because of the enduring memories we have of the dead. Death creates the problem of memory, but suggests itself—a guarantee of impermanence—as the solution. In turn, our memories can mitigate the impermanence of those we love, and the impermanence even of our grief can help us forget. This meditation on memory and impermanence expands into an ongoing preoccupation with time—the existence of the future, Díaz-Varela argues,
guarantees the impermanence of the present and the increasing irrelevance of the past. The pastness of something mitigates its occurrence, in the same way that the occurrence of it inflected everything that went before. All of this speculation takes on a rather more sinister meaning when one is reminded that it is a discussion being had by people about the death of someone they know, or almost know. The willingness of Marías’ characters to exert the force of their interpretation onto an event of great and unexpected trauma often comes across as cruel. Although even widowed Luisa, the person most affected by the novel’s central death, seems amenable to considering theoretical inputs in her grief. For instance, in her only long conversation with María, then still a stranger, she ponders the belief ‘that what has ceased to happen is not as bad as what is happening, and that we should find relief in that cessation’—the idea that the past is an imagined refuge for present trauma. She doesn’t agree. Time doesn’t help her step out of her grief. Death poses the ultimate uncertainty. It also changes the meaning of everything. Death defines everything that went before, and changes imagined futures—a fact that is promising for Díaz-Varela, but utterly dispiriting (or imagined) for Luisa. Meaning is always at risk in this novel, never dependable. Things previously empty of meaning, like the sound of an ambulance siren, become suddenly full, and others, like a planner no longer to be used, are hollowed out as a result Miguel’s death. In Marías’ writing, nothing is sacred, no fact safe from doubt, no story left unflipped. If we are allowed some measure of certainty, it is only so we can later be robbed utterly of it. Reading Marías for the first time is somewhat like being inducted into a fraternity of argumentative sceptics, revisionists and liberty-takers. This can be a joyous induction, but a frightening one too. This sounds dramatic, and it is: The Infatuations forces you to constantly wonder about the narrative of your life, suggesting ways it might be upended. n open www.openthemagazine.com 51
Books An Encounter with a Negotiator Stuart Diamond once negotiated himself out of the sights of a submachine gun in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Negotiating well, he says, is about noticing other people siddhartha gupta
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tuart Diamond is a serial negotiator. He does for a living what Chris Sabian did in the 1998 film The Negotiator; only, he claims the movie was terrible and that what it showed wouldn’t have worked in real-life. Diamond is an expert on cross-cultural negotiation and has advised corporate and government leaders on the subject in over 40 countries. The United Nations, no less, has consulted him. He holds a law degree from Harvard Law School, where he was the former associate director of the Harvard Negotiation Project. Previously, he was a journalist with The New York Times, where he won the Pulitzer Prize as a part of a team investigating the crash of space shuttle Challenger in 1986. Diamond is president and CEO of Global Strategy Group, which advises companies and governments on negotiating foreign investments and competing effectively. He teaches highly popular negotiation courses at Wharton Business School and Penn Law School. Diamond is also the author of Getting More, in which he writes about the numerous tools, strategies and frameworks that make or break a negotiation. In an interview with Open, he speaks about his book and the psychology at work in a negotiation. Excerpts:
The tools, strategies and theories behind the art of negotiation seem quite daunting. Can negotiation be mastered? How?
Negotiation should just be a conversation about what’s real. Not a game, not unnecessary stress. Watch kids negotiate—‘I’m happy’, ‘I’m sad’, ‘this is not working’—that’s a very good model. It doesn’t have to be necessarily complicated. Take things one at a time. Go into a store and ask for discounts. Get your children to do something they normally won’t. Try something new on the job. Most people aren’t conscious enough of 52 open
what goes on around them. They must become more conscious of how they affect other people and what other people are thinking, and this takes practice. You have to step outside yourself and notice other people.
What are the biggest obstacles you anticipate for Getting More in the Indian market? India is a very traditional place. People are tied to what happened yesterday. They need to be more forward looking. Secondly, people fight over differences a lot in India. I believe differences create value. It makes people more creative. I only ask people to try to be more accepting of their differences.
Saying ‘If you don’t do X, I will not do Y’ is a bad way to frame it. Instead, say ‘I would love to treat you respectfully if you were in my situation. But I would only do it with people who would do the same. Are you such people?’ How is your book different from others on spin-selling, persuasion and negotiation?
My book is fundamentally different because it focuses on emotions, people and their perceptions as the starting point, instead of logic. In my 25 years of research, I have found that you can achieve six times better results when you focus on people and relationships, as opposed to logic. If you have no perception, you can’t make the human connection, and you have no starting point to persuasion. So all your proposals, however good they are, fall on deaf ears. I stress on the fact that the focus in a negotiation has to be on them. Constantly. What they have, what they want, how they will react. It is first
about what they want, and then about what I want.
These strategies seem commonsensical, yet we falter. What is wrong with our brains?
I don’t think we are wired the right way. I think people have grown up getting the wrong instructions. They watched TV, people [in] conflict with each other; they watched governments, governments [in] conflict with each other; even within their homes people are always conflicting with each other. People have become too pessimistic, negative and backward looking. It might be obvious retrospectively, but just because it’s in front of you doesn’t mean you will see it. If you are preoccupied with your psychological routine, if you can’t get out of your syndrome, you will not see it. Someone has to say, ‘Stop. Here’s another way.’ And once you see a solution or method working for you, you will own it. Then you will not forget it.
Who is your favourite negotiator?
Gandhi. He simply said if Britain claims to be so civilised a nation, why does it kill innocent women and children in India? He brought down the empire without raising a voice or weapon. He set them against their own standards, he was empathetic, he didn’t make himself the issue, and he achieved [India’s] independence.
Here’s a situation that is a nightmare for many Indians; tell me how you’d handle it: a couple, fashionably dressed, runs into a group of drunk rowdy young men on the road. These men notice the woman and decide to harass the couple. Help is 5-10 minutes away. They must buy time. What would you do if you were in the man’s place? First I’d tell them they are terrific people;that I can see they are having a good time, and it’s exactly the kind of thing that people should be doing, go-
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ing out, having a good time, etcetera. Then [I] might say something about the woman I’m with. I’d say, ‘Hey look, this woman is important to me. You should look at this woman like your sister. We are all brothers and sisters here. We are all dressed up, having a good time. Now I wouldn’t treat you badly, keeping your respect, so give me also a chance.’
What if they laugh at this?
I’d ask them: ‘What do you want out of this situation? What do you want to do here? I just want to know. Here we are, two people, living their lives, having a good time. What do you want out of all this? I just need you to reflect, even if you are drunk. What will happen tomorrow if this doesn’t turn up so well? I have this important person in my life, who I have [brought] out here, just like everybody else. What do you want to do here?’ And then if they say, ‘We want to be friends with your date,’ I’ll say, ‘Yeah, well, that’s against the law. Do you want to take responsibility for that? You can do what you want, of course, you have all the power in the world, but you’re young, you have your whole life ahead of you, is this what you want to do? Do you want to use your power in this manner?’
What if they made an obscene remark about your date and your blood began to boil? How do you negotiate then?
If I am boiling, I am not the right negotiator. The right negotiator is somebody who can establish a meaningful human connection with the other person. It might be the weakest member of your team. Doesn’t matter. In this situation, I might have to look for a third party somewhere around who I may be able to draw into the situation and help negotiate. Or it might have to be my date.
The man might panic, understandably. How can he stop himself from panicking?
One of the ways is to lower his expectations about how he will be treated. If he isn’t treated well, he won’t be surprised and [will be] less disappointed. He’ll say, ‘Hey, I expected that.’ And if he is [treated well], so much the better. Don’t get emotional. You won’t be able to think. Don’t take it personally. 5 August 2013
silver tongue Stuart Diamond could talk you into—or out of—anything
Don’t [let] your ego in. Maybe they are having a bad day, maybe they are having a bad life, maybe you are just a convenient target, but they are mad about something else. You can’t just give up saying that the people you are talking to are crazy. You can’t do anything about their craziness. You can either make them more persuadable or less persuadable. Be incremental in your approach. Go slow. Don’t just put your demands and desires on the table all at once. It all begins with them. Their opinions, their perceptions.
People often resort to force or violence to get out of such situations. How would you use a threat to get the job done? A lot of people threaten other people
and it is not very useful. Let me show you a manner of giving the other person a reality [test], which is also a kind of threat, but much more useful. Saying ‘If you don’t do X, I will not do Y’ is a bad way to frame it. In this situation, say that ‘I would love to treat you respectfully if you were in my situation. But I would only do it with people who would do me the same courtesy. Are you such people?’ Similarly, ‘I do alliances with companies that are fair. Are you such a company? I go to restaurants with good service. Are you such a restaurant?’ It’s the same threat. But it’s positive, forward looking, consultative. By making small changes in the way you frame your sentences, you can bring people large distances into the open www.openthemagazine.com 53
negotiation, by valuing them and giving them a choice.
Let me give you another situation one I’ve been through often. There’s no shortage of corrupt cops waiting to make money on the roads. How would you negotiate with one?
Let me give you an example. A South American woman living in the States was once pulled over by a cop, who hated Latin Americans, and who decided to fine her $400, which was equal to her monthly rent. He went on and on about how Latin Americans illegally entered the US and took all the jobs and ruined the lives of the people and economy. Instead of losing her head and filing a complaint, she first thanked him for doing his job. Then she said she agreed that illegal immigration was a problem and she empathised with him. But she respected the country’s laws and was there legally on a student visa. Could he please forgive her and let her go just this once? Of course, the cop let her go. This happened in the US, but I don’t see why it can’t be replicated here if you focus on making a human connection with the cop instead of abusing him, and try to find out what exactly might be bothering him.
What’s the most nerve-wracking negotiation you’ve been part of?
I’ve had a submachine gun pointed to my stomach in [the Democratic Republic of the] Congo. I had been invited by the president of Congo to negotiate a $150 million diamonds-fortanks deal with some Ukrainians. When we got there, we realised there were no diamonds. They couldn’t get them out of the countryside because there was a civil war raging. We wanted to leave, but the minister in charge of us said we weren’t allowed. The cops gathered our passports and essentially held us hostage. I asked the minister, did the president say we couldn’t take a tour of the country? He said we could. I said we wanted to go out for a drive. He said there is an active war outside. I said we could go for a drive with an armed guard. He said ‘okay’. I said we would like to go to the airport. He said we couldn’t leave. I said, of course, since he had our passports. But did the presi54 open
dent specifically say we couldn’t go the airport? He said ‘no’. So we went to the airport. Once at the airport, I stepped out on the tarmac—it was unguarded. I said to the minister that he couldn’t hold us against our will. He said something in a guard’s ear [and he] promptly shoved a machine gun in my stomach. At this point, I thought, I represent the first part of this deal for the president. No way is the guard killing me without the president ordering [him to], if he values his life. But I realised I had to keep everybody calm. Then I said to them, ‘You’re right. You have all the power. We can’t leave unless you want us to.’ Just to keep them calm. Then I saw the pilot of our aircraft. I waved my tickets over my head so that he could see. He saw us and came over. I told him that we had tickets on his plane but those people wouldn’t let us go. To his credit, he said to them, ‘My responsibility to fly pas-
Don’t get emotional. Don’t take it personally. Don’t let your ego in. Maybe they are having a bad day, maybe they are having a bad life, maybe you are a convenient target, but they are mad about something else sengers out of this place comes out of a contract between my government and yours. If you want to continue having international planes land here, I want my passengers.’ The minister thought about it for a minute, made a phone call, got us our passports, and we left.
How does body language affect a negotiation?
It’s very hard to read signals. You can’t tell whether somebody is lying or not by their body language. It’s very culturally sensitive. Of course, one may get better with practice, but for most people, it’s very easy to send out wrong signals or misinterpret what the other person is trying to convey. This is all the more so because we are all so different.
Speaking of differences, do you agree with the saying, ‘When in Rome, do as the Romans do’?
Absolutely not. People are bad actors. There is a very high chance your lie will be caught or you will come across as untrustworthy. Everybody knows we are all different. People don’t expect you to be like them. They expect you to be straight with them. When I go into a new culture, I say, ‘I wish I knew your culture better.I might mess up by accident in the next two days. Please advise me when I make a mistake. I’d rather be who I am. I want you to be who you are. And we should use our differences to create better solutions. Differences create value.’
How do stereotypes affect a negotiation?
It is crucial to understand where people get their identities from in a negotiation. According to a study we are doing, people get their identities from—in this order—family, personality, other relationships, hobbies, occupation and then stereotypes.Macro-culture is almost irrelevant in a one-on-one situation. The fact that you are an Indian is of no relevance to me when I am looking at you as an individual. Can I negotiate with 1.2 billion Indians at once? No. I have to find out where exactly you draw your identity from.
What are your thoughts on The Negotiator?
It’s a terrible movie. By threatening people, you increase the instability and stress level in a situation. Situations become unpredictable. That’s what that film showed. I don’t think I would have handled the situation that way. It worked in Hollywood, [but] it won’t work in real life. I would advise FBI hostage negotiators that when terrorists take over a building, you want to turn the air conditioning on, not off. You want to send in good food, not old food. Because comfortable and well-fed terrorists will kill fewer people. Send complete meals—large loves of bread, cheese and ham, lots of drinks and condiments. If the hostage takers end up having lunch with the hostages, it will be harder for them to kill the hostages, because they will have made a connection. In fact, one reason why hostage takers cover the eyes of their hostages is to avoid making [human] connections with them. n 5 august 2013
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CINEMA All For Love Aanand L Rai and Himanshu Sharma, the director-writer duo famous for Tanu Weds Manu and Raanjhanaa, talk about the unique brand of love that has made their films box-office successes Nikhil Taneja
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fter than an hour of conversation with Raanjhanaa and Tanu Weds Manu writer Himanshu Sharma and director Aanand L Rai on romance in their movies and in Hindi cinema in general, the topic of sex comes up. Or specifically, how the duo’s two romantic films so far have been characterised by a distinct lack of it. Sharma, a well-spoken Lucknawi, whose thoughts and choice of words have a casual eloquence and easy wit to them, jumps at the opportunity to rib Rai, who is almost completely the opposite—soft-spoken, thoughtful and simplistic—with no suggestion in his language of either his early years in Delhi or the recent decade he has spent in the television and film industry in Mumbai. “I have absolutely no problems with sex,” says Sharma, tongue firmly in cheek. “Give me a willing director and I can write the hottest, sexiest, sleaziest and most titillating film of Indian cinema. But the moment I have broached even a kiss in my scripts, Aanand brushes me off. I just don’t get it!” Having already broken into an elongated ‘Arrre yaaar’ the moment ‘sex’ was brought up, as if expecting the mock rant by Sharma, and perhaps having been at its receiving end at various times in their successful partnership of three films over seven years, Rai explains, “I have always felt that if you can make love look beautiful and respectful without going that route, why put it in? Personally, I believe in the purity of love and innocence of romance.” Ever since Mallika Sherawat exploded upon Indian pop culture with her 17 kisses and 1,700 bikini photoshoots with Khwahish in 2003, love has hardly seemed sacred in Hindi cinema. Words like ‘purity’ and ‘inno56 open
cence’ are something of a joke in modern-day Bollywood, where even the most serious of filmmakers have had to add ‘item numbers’ to their movies to make them saleable, a la Dibakar Banerjee in his 2012 thriller Shanghai. In the decade-and-a-half in which Karan Johar travelled from sweet Kuch Kuch Hota Hai to sexed-up Student of the Year, and in which every other romcom has at some level been a rehash of Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge (except that the leads wear fewer clothes), Rai and Sharma have brought a shared original voice to the silver screen. In
Rai recalls that his brief to AR Rahman for Raanjhanaa was that he wanted the music to celebrate guilt and heartbreak. While scoring for the last scene, Rahman joked to him, “Sir, we are about to celebrate death now” their movies, the girls prefer patialas to skirts and kurtis to tank tops, whereas the boys are either too podgy (Madhavan in Tanu Weds Manu) or too skinny (Dhanush in Raanjhanaa) to flex their muscles as a fashion statement. In other words, their films are about regular people, and, as a rule, neither lover takes off his/her clothes. The romantic in Rai’s films is either the silent and brooding type, like Manoj aka Manu of Tanu Weds Manu, who falls in love with and immediately agrees to marry a girl who he’s only seen asleep; or is an over-the-top lafanga, like Kundan from Raanjhanaa,
who comes every day to the same spot as Zoya just to get slapped by her, and waits eight years to marry her. But for both, the love is passionate and soulful, and not one borne of lust. This would have to be ‘true love’ because why else would the hero at some point in either story selflessly try to help the heroine reunite with the man she loves instead? And while this love appears to be a far cry from that of today’s ‘move on’ generation, it seems to have tapped something in their hearts, for the films have gone on to be hits (according to Boxofficeindia.co.in, Raanjhanaa has collected around Rs 60 crore in a period of four weeks, having been made on a budget of Rs 35 crore, while Tanu Weds Manu, filmed on a budget of Rs 17.5 crore, raked in Rs 56 crore). Rai, who had been quoted in prerelease interviews as saying that he wanted to “teach the concept of love to the present generation”, is elated but not surprised that youth audiences are impressed. “Several people, including reviewers, have said that the film has a nostalgic feel to it and it takes you to the good old days,” he says. “But the fact is that Himanshu has written it today and I have made it today and kids of today are watching this movie and connecting to it, which means that somewhere the idea of love has never changed. It’s we who have changed. Why do you say that it’s nostalgic? Why do you not say that it’s you?” “As a community, we have always believed in love in a great way,” elaborates Sharma. “That’s why we have never been able to make a Superman or Batman. Our superhero is Devdas, and even though we’ve thrived on him for decades, each time he’s come on screen, he’s made an impact. That’s because, 5 august 2013
an unlikely pair Collaborators Aanand L Rai (holding gizmo) and Himanshu Sharma love to disagree on their ideas of love and sex
as we grow older, although [such] notions of love start to seem overhyped and overrated if at all we go through a few heartbreaks, we still romanticise it in our heads. We are in love with the idea of love, even though we may not explicitly say it,” Sharma says. “But I believe that somewhere, the handing over from our generation to 5 august 2013
the next was bad,” adds Rai. “People have lost faith in love; they speak of it as if it were a fairy tale. And more than love, people seem to have lost faith in people. And it’s important that we don’t let that happen.” In his early forties now, Rai belongs—and proudly at that—to a generation for which love meant ‘commit-
ment’ and ‘fidelity’. Having gone on to marry his high school sweetheart, his notion of love hasn’t changed since his school days: that it is eternal. At one point in our conversation, Sharma even jokes that Rai belongs to that clan of filmmakers for whom sex would happen “by mistake” during a particularly cold evening—to keep open www.openthemagazine.com 57
the other person warm. At 32, the jovial Sharma finds himself at the cusp between the blu-ray generation and the older one that fondly reminisces about VHS films, and as a unique voice at the bridge of both these generations, narrows down love and the palpitations in our hearts to “chemicals in our brains—which ultimately is connected to the latent sexuality in us”. “I believe that all inter-gender emotion is connected to sexuality, whether we are aware of it or not,” he says. “The fact is that while the present generation has seen our parents committed to each other forever, thanks to the ever-increasing exposure, they’ve—and we’ve— also seen that [old] taboos are slowly being done away with. That’s why there no longer seems to be the burden or tag of emotional or physical commitment, and the idea of ‘love’ has evolved into something much deeper than ‘love at first sight’.” “But that’s not letting them settle down, is it?” Rai argues. “For some reason, there are too many calculations done before falling in love today. I respect the fact that youngsters are straightforward and honest, but my problem is that they fear falling in love and they fear heartbreak. They believe saying that they are emotionally dependent on someone else will make them weak. But I think that if there is no pain, there is no love. Heartbreak should be celebrated.” The case for pain seems to have been made very well by the duo. While typically in modern Bollywood romances, ‘pain’ and ‘heartbreak’ are relegated to being a montage in a sad song, the pain of Manu in Tanu Weds Manu or Kundan in Raanjhanaa is quite sharply portrayed. Rai, in fact, recalls that his brief to composer AR Rahman for 58 open
Raanjhanaa was that he wanted the music to celebrate guilt and heartbreak. While scoring for the last scene, Rahman joked to him: “Sir, we are about to celebrate death now!” “Growing up in Lucknow, I was always of the opinion that love should be extreme—Ya aap ishq mein abaad ho jaayiye, ya barbaad ho jaayiye, bas beech ke jugaad mat kariye (Find fulfillment, or be ruined in love, just don’t settle for anything in between),” Sharma smiles. “The best love stories are those where a beggar outside Jama Masjid falls in love with a
sacrificial deal The heroes of Rai’s films are all selfless in love
princess of Delhi, everything else is jugaad. And the truth is, pyaar mein barbaad hone ka bhi kuchh aur hi mazaa hai (there’s something extraordinary about letting yourself go to ruin for love).” “And everyone knows this,” says Rai. “I was surprised at the number of people who came up to me saying they were like Manu deep inside. Even if they are haraami outside! It’s just that no one’s admitting this openly because for some reason it has become ‘uncool’ to admit it.” While Rai has so far maintained that Bollywood reflects society and
not vice-versa, he blames Bollywood in some small part for this mindset. “I think this has a lot to do with the term ‘aspirational’ that Bollywood was selling middle-class youngsters in the last decade,” he says.“In trying to buy the dreams that Bollywood was peddling and trying to change themselves, youngsters started losing out on interpersonal relationships.” But Sharma puts things in perspective by saying that even if that were the case, Bollywood is likely to be the key to resolving this ‘generational loss’ that people are facing. “I still believe that movies like DDLJ or Maine Pyaar Kiya were the ones that helped youngsters find romance, and it was the photocopies that kept losing [other] generations,” says Sharma.“Instead of taking the soul of the movie, the easiest thing to take was Raj and Simran [the characters in DDLJ]. So, for the longest time, everyone in the movies was a Malhotra or a Khanna or a Kapoor.” “But the good news is that youngsters have successfully changed their lives and chased their aspirations, faster than anyone thought they were capable of,” he laughs. “And that’s why now, interestingly, they are already ready to see what they used to be. Hence, movies about the innocence of love remind them of a time gone by.” Even as they start working on their next romcom, the concepts of love and lust will continue to differ for Rai and Sharma, as it will for the generations past, present and future. But if there’s one thing the two agree on, it is that as this generation starts settling down, the notions of romance will come full circle in society, and they hope their movies play a role in it. “And if that doesn’t happen, I’ll appease Himanshu and make a Basic Instinct in India,” laughs Rai. n 5 august 2013
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breastmilk According to Unicef, developing countries display a 14-fold difference in survival rates in the first 6 months between children who have been breastfed exclusively and those bottlefed
Microbes and Wasps Microscopic organisms have altered the course of wasp evolution. And perhaps ours too
Breastfeeding and ADHD
dennis kunkel microscopy/corbis
science
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new study , published in the
journal Science, provides what is being considered the most direct evidence of a microbial role in evolution. The study, conducted on three species of the wasp Nasonia, shows that microbes reduce the viability of hybrids produced between males and females of different species. Two of the wasp’s species that they studied, N giraulti and N longicornis, are genetically closely-related. The two species had diverged only about 400,000 years ago and even their microbiomes were found to be close. The genome and microbiome of the third species that was studied, N vitripennis, however, had greater differences in comparison with the two. This species is believed to have diverged at least a million years before. The researchers discovered that the mortality of hybrid offspring from the two closely related species was low in comparison with mortality rates of hybrid offspring between either of them and N vitripennis. According to them, the mortality rate of the offspring between the two closely related species was 8 per cent. In the other case, the figure was 90 per cent.
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To prove that the reason behind these differences in high mortality rates of hybrids is differences in their microbes, the researchers also raised some of the wasps in a microbe-free environment. During the study, they found that the survival rate of germfree hybrids was the same as purebred larvae. However, when gut microbes from regular hybrids were given to germ-free hybrids, their survival rate nosedived. According to the researchers, their study provides the strongest evidence to date for the hologenomic theory of evolution. They argue that their findings show that the evolution of a species is dependent not only on the organism, but also its associated microbiome. They write in the journal: ‘Although the gut microbiome influences numerous aspects of organismal fitness, its role in animal evolution and the origin of new species is largely unknown. Here, we present evidence that beneficial bacterial communities in the guts of closely related species of the genus Nasonia form species-specific, phylosymbiotic assemblages that cause lethality in interspecific hybrids.” n
Researchers at Tel Aviv University have shown that breastfeeding may also help protect kids against Attention Deficit/ Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), a common neurobehavioural disorder in children and adolescents. In their study, the researchers compared the breastfeeding histories of children from six to 12 years of age at Schneider’s Children Medical Center in Israel. The researchers found a clear link between rates of breastfeeding and the likelihood of developing ADHD, even once typical risk factors were taken into account. Children who were bottlefed at three months of age were found to be thrice as likely to have ADHD than those who were breastfed during the same period. n
Pathways to Learning New Words
According to a study published in Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, a team of researchers from King’s College London Institute of Psychiatry has mapped the neural pathways involved in word learning among humans. They found that the arcuate fasciculus—a collection of nerve fibres connecting auditory regions at the temporal lobe with the motor area located at the frontal lobe in the left hemisphere of the brain—allows the ‘sound’ of a word to establish synaptic links with the regions responsible for its articulation. Differences in the development of these auditory-motor connections may explain differences in people’s ability to learn words. n 5 august 2013
embedded memory eMMC devices consist of three components— the multimedia card interface, the flash memory and the flash memory controller— and are offered in industry-standard ball grid array (BGA) packages
tech&style
Trailblazer 2 A rugged navigation device from MapmyIndia meant for adventurous bikers gagandeep Singh Sapra
Oris w Calobra Limited Edition
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Rs 16,990 Limited to 1,000 pieces, the Oris Calobra Limited Edition is a tribute to the ‘Oris Rally Clásico Isla Mallorca’ motorsport. Featuring a multi-piece stainless steel case, this timepiece’s top ring in black ceramic can be rotated in both directions. Its two-piece dial boasts a silver mat dial ring with a tachymeter scale attached to the case. This model is water resistant to 100 metres. n
Acer Iconia W3-810
U
sing a navigation device is easy if you are in a car; you can use an in-dash navigator, a phone held on your windshield with a cup mount, or even a dedicated navigation device, but the moment you switch to a bike for those weekend adventures, you are all caught up in finding the best way to navigate. And for someone like me, who does not like to stop to ask for directions, it has been especially difficult—till the Trailblazer 2 came about. The Trailblazer 2 unit has a GPS navigator with a built-in battery that is waterproof, a visor and charger dock, cables to tap the battery of your bike, a USB data cable for upgrades, a stylus that has a flat head screw driver built into it, plus more. The 8.9 cm touch-screen offers a low resolution display, but good contrast that works well outdoors. It has Bluetooth capabilities that let you pair it with a hands-free unit and listen to navigation instructions. 5 august 2013
MapmyIndia has loaded the Trailblazer 2 with its version 8.0 software that has a simple navigation menu. You may never need to reach out for that stylus, though I found it easier to enter information using it. Most of the navigation information is the same as that for a car, so if you imagine it will help you find bike paths, or paths that are still not paved, tough luck there. The maps have not been re-cartographed for bikers. The unit is rugged and performs well, though I would have loved a slightly higher resolution screen, apart from the ability to pair it with my phone and use it as my phone answering screen. There is no antitheft system other than a screw that keeps the screen in place, so make sure you take off the unit before you step away from your bike. I also wish that MapmyIndia made special maps for bikers at least for those alternate routes one can venture to explore. n
Rs 32,499
This tablet runs on Intel’s Clover Trail Atom 1.8 GHz processor and weighs 500 gm. Its 8.1 inch screen supports a resolution of 1280x800 pixels, and boasts 5-point multi touch capability. There are built-in stereo speakers, a microphone and a 3.5 mm jack to connect a headset. It comes with Windows 8, Office Home and Student Edition 2013. The tablet also comes with an optional keyboard case. Its storage is expandable to 64GB with an eMMC card. A micro HDMI port lets you connect it to a larger display unit. n Gagandeep Singh Sapra is The Big Geek at System3. He can be reached at gadgets@openmedianetwork.in
open www.openthemagazine.com 61
CINEMA
origin of a title The title of Ship of Theseus is a nod to a philosophical thought experiment known as Theseus’ Paradox, posed by the ancient Greek historian Plutarch in his Life of Theseus. The original paradox asks whether a ship can still be considered the same ship if all of its constituent parts are replaced one by one
D-Day An action-packed film that doesn’t give the audience space to jeer at its implausible storyline ajit duara
o n scr een
current
Ship of Theseus Director Anand Gandhi cast Aida El-Kashef, Neeraj Kabi,
Sohum Shah
Score ★★★★★
poor, al , rishi ka Cast arjun ramp reshi irrfan, huma qu advani hil nik r to Direc
T
hat will be the day. This film is
wish fulfillment for jingoists, all about our own Zero Dark Thirty. With two interesting differences. The mission to get Iqbal Khan, code named ‘Goldman’ (Dawood Ibrahim by inference) wants him ‘alive’, and the operation is not officially approved, though the dithering PM is apparently aware of it. The buck stops with a gung-ho R&AW chief (Nassar). He has an agent in Karachi called Wali Khan (Irrfan), complete with a local identity and wife and child. Just before ‘D-Day’, three other Indian agents join Wali Khan and the mission is underway. The movie has non-stop action with little time for you to take a breather and consider the operational and political plausibility of it all. With Goldman under constant watch and protection of the ISI, the Indian agents seem a trifle short on firepower. Besides, the actual political ramifications of an attempt to kidnap a Dawood-like character would be so huge it would spill out into politi62 open
cal theatre, something that the film is clearly not equipped to handle. So the makers deny the audience any ‘thinking time’ and pace their film like a Subcontinental Mission: Impossible, with rapid-fire action, but in settings that look like ‘home’— mohallas and dilapidated buildings in little gullies with insane traffic and with everyone dressed in flashy ‘madein-Pakistan’ designer clothes, the flashiest, naturally, being Goldman himself (Rishi Kapoor). Goldman also has the best lines in the film, with several contemptuous references to the pusillanimity of the Indian State, particularly this State’s insistence on proper judicial procedure in the trial of Ajmal Kasab, a line that received the loudest jeer of agreement from an audience in Pune. The problem with D-Day is that it compromises credibility by understating the ‘enemy’. The Indian agents are all sharp-shooters and by the end of the film, the ISI can’t even shoot straight, missing sitting ducks at 20 paces. n
This film has a lovely title that uses the ‘Theseus Paradox’ to raise philosophical questions that organ transplants prompt. But you can’t look at it as a film that is going to spark off challenging ethical or spiritual debate. In truth, the intellectual queries it poses have been frequently raised before in university coffee house discussions, or, more systematically and rigorously, in undergraduate philosophy classes. What Anand Gandhi has done is bring these ideas to the pop culture forum of a multiplex theatre, and, possibly, introduce some diversity to Indian film subjects. The film has three stories on organ transplants, one about a girl who has to learn to ‘see’, another about a monk who faces the conundrum of having to physically receive something that he spiritually rejects, and the third about criminality in the medical profession that conducts these transplants. In a sense, the film could also be the ‘Gandhi Paradox’, because the ideas of the monk, the most interesting character, are very close to the churn in the mind of MK Gandhi, particularly on ahimsa and the notion of the literal and metaphoric ‘celibacy’ of the body and mind. This is a sincere and well-made movie, but not half as original as some make it out to be. n ad
5 august 2013
Not People Like Us
R aj e e v M asa n d
A Hug Does Not a Friendship Make
So Salman Khan and Shah Rukh Khan hugged earlier this week at Congress MLA Baba Siddique’s Iftaar party in Mumbai. The two stars, who famously had a falling out after a heated argument at Katrina Kaif’s birthday party five years ago, embraced like old friends last Sunday in the presence of dozens of star-struck guests who snapped the moment on their camera phones. However, Siddique may have planned out the whole affair. Both Salman and Shah Rukh had reportedly been informed that the other was also expected to show up. Shah Rukh, in fact, who had been shooting for a magazine cover at his home just before he arrived at Siddique’s gathering, didn’t look particularly surprised when Salman tapped him on his shoulder while he was mid-meal at the Iftaar table, and offered him a hug. SRK gracefully reciprocated, and eyewitnesses say he even spent a good 30 minutes chatting with Salman’s father, Salim Khan. Friends of the actors are relieved that the ice has been broken, but they are asking tabloid hacks to not get carried away. Apparently this doesn’t necessarily mean Salman and Shah Rukh will go back to wining and dining together like they did in the good ol’ days. At best, the two stars have arrived at an uneasy truce and can be counted on to be polite to each other when they cross paths in the future.
Bad Calculation
Although Bhaag Milkha Bhaag’s box-office collections have been steadily growing since its release—not to mention the unanimous praise Farhan Akhtar continues to receive for his committed performance as the celebrated athlete in the film—there’s one fellow who’s probably not popping champagne. That will be Lootera star Ranveer Singh, who was reportedly pursued for the part by director Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra after the release of his smash debut, Band Baaja Baaraat, in 2010. The story goes that Ranveer and Rakeysh had lengthy conversations about the role and the actor was on the verge of beginning to train as part of his preparation for the project. But he alleged5 August 2013
ly bowed out of the film when he learnt that he might have a serious shot at landing the lead in Rajkumar Hirani’s Peekay. The 3 Idiots director, who at the time had no firm commitment from Aamir Khan for Peekay, is believed to have spoken to both Ranbir Kapoor and Ranveer separately about possibly starring in it. Encouraged by this, Ranveer decided to put all his eggs into Hirani’s basket, opting out of Bhaag Milkha Bhaag. Aamir Khan then famously signed up for Peekay, and Ranveer, one hears, went back to Rakeysh to check if Milkha was still available. Alas, for him, the Rang De Basanti director had signed on Farhan only 15 days earlier.
A Lucky Break-up
Industrywallahs are surprised that this pretty starlet has landed the female lead opposite an A-lister in a major action movie that is currently in production. She has hardly proved her mettle in the histrionics department, so it is surprising that she would be chosen from among the half-dozen bonafide female stars who were also vying for the coveted job. An insider with access to the details claims the starlet may have benefitted from the fallout between the film’s producer-director and a director who is her former boyfriend. Until recently, she was romantically involved with a successful helmer, but their relationship of a few years reportedly fizzled out soon after the director delivered a big-budget turkey a few months ago. Her former boyfriend happened to be close friends with the filmmaker behind her new project, but that friendship went out of the window over a recent botched business deal. Now, our source says, the starlet is likely to have been signed on for the film so that the producer-director can get back at his former buddy by suggesting that he has got the starlet on his side. The games people play! n Rajeev Masand is entertainment editor and film critic at CNN-IBN open www.openthemagazine.com 63
open space
Farewell, Premier Padmini
by L h e n du p G B h u t i a
O
n the morning of 28 May,
Anthony L Quadros, a large man with a twirled burly moustache, received a notice from the government. Quadros is a well-known figure in the Mumbai media: he heads the Mumbai Taximen’s Union. In the evening, after he had dispensed with his duties, he considered the note again and felt his eyes getting watery. The note was a government resolution that stipulated that all taxis beyond the age of 20 years will not be allowed to ply beyond 1 August. This effectively takes the city’s famous yellow-top Premier Padmini taxis off the streets. For many, the Premier Padmini represented all that was wrong with India in its pre-liberalisation days. Despite being an ‘uncomfortable’ vehicle, it was popular as there were few competitors. For many others, it is the stuff of nostalgia—a vehicle to which many middle-class Indians once aspired to. It was first produced in 1964 as Fiat 1100, a result of an agreement between Premier Automobiles of India and the Italian company Fiat. In 1973, Fiat got out of the agreement on the Indian government’s insistence that the car be produced indigenously. The vehicle thus produced was named the Premier President. However, according to one unconfirmed story, a bureaucrat objected to the car’s new name. To him, the name was derogatory of India’s highest office. The name was changed. And from 1974 onwards, the car that rolled off the company’s Kurla assembly line was called the Premier Padmini. Back then, the only real competition to the vehicle was the Hindustan Ambassador. While the latter was favoured by government officials, the former became the car of upper middle-class Indians. With the opening up of the market in the 1990s, and many more types of vehicles being made available, the clunky old car floun-
64 open
ritesh uttamchandani
dered and all production was eventually ceased in 2000. The classic model, however, became popular as a taxi vehicle in Bombay. In 1997, Quadros tells us, there were 62,300 taxis in the city, almost all of which were Premier Padminis. Today there are around 9,000 Premier Padminis running as taxis, most of which are over 20 years old. Quadros drove a taxi in the 1960s and 1970s, before abandoning it to focus on union work. His father, who had moved from Mangalore to Bombay and found employment as a taxi driver, was shot dead during a robbery in Fort. “I was a child when this happened. Many did not want me to join a profession in which my father was killed. But I was always fascinated by the [Premier Padmini]—its shiny black and yellow colour, its large seats,” he says. The vehicle excelled as a taxi because it was easy and cheap to maintain, it had a trunk, and provided some leg room for passengers and drivers. It is slower compared to other vehicles, and considered safer as well. Despite the vehicle not being produced since 2000,
its parts were easily available in various garages. In a city starved of space, especially for young lovers, the vehicle—with its sunken seats (mostly because of broken springs) and graffiti on the passengers’ windows obscuring the view of onlookers—proved an excellent place to express affection. Many drivers installed mirrors and red and blue lights inside, making it look like a strange cross between a cab and a bordello. The taximen’s union is now trying to procure loans for taxi drivers so that they can buy newer vehicles. They have also written to the government asking if a Padmini taxi can be preserved and showcased in public as a tribute. If one considers it, many photographs of the iconic landmarks of Bombay, be it the Gateway or Marine Drive, have a Padmini taxi lurking somewhere in the vicinity. Its absence will be strange. The sight of these cabs moving, often laboriously, like black and yellow beetles on Bombay’s potholed roads will soon be a thing of the past. n 5 august 2013