issuesbeyondborders

I have had good opportunity of living in four big cities of India during an important phase when India was opening its economic doors to the world. Longest stay has been in the two big cities- one in the west of India and other in the east of India. My personal belief (based on my experience) is that each city has a distinct character and they leave an imprint on the soul of people living there. Globalization cannot erase inherent character of a place. (But if I go by these two cities I truly identify with and what the life in two metros has done to my soul, then I am sure I must be bipolar by now!!)

First 22 years of my life were spent in Mumbai (Bombay), city situated in the West of India (now known as Mumbai).  Now I am settled in the biggest city of India on the east that is Kolkata (Calcutta). One city lives by the sea (Arabian Sea) and other by the river (Ganges). One is the busiest financial capital of India and the other was (maybe is even now) popularly known as ‘cultural/intellectual’ capital of India. Globalization may threaten to erase the dissimilarities and hence the essence of the cities but it is unlikely that it’ll change the psyche of residents living there through generations. The true heritage of each city will be preserved by its own people.

Life in Mumbai is fast. It has always been so. Being financial capital of India it always had a global flavor. The city is always on the move. Most people have to commute long distances to reach their offices in the heart of the city. So if you standstill either at Churchgate or CST stations (two main local train junctions) you can see a whole mass of people moving around you, there is a fantastic order in this movement of people.  There is a definite pattern of life of common people – home-work/college-home.  Time spent at home is minimal. There are special trains for women commuters. The gender stereotype or bias is almost invisible. For first 22 years of my life I never had to restrict my movements just because I happen to be a girl. City uses only two languages – Hindi(India’s national language) and English. The local language is Marathi but still it is not widely spoken. The city has its own share of agonies. Its infrastructure is crumbling due to huge population, every monsoon there is floods, and regionalism is surfacing now and then. People don’t wear political badges. Its main culture is ‘work’ culture – rest are movies (mainly Bollywood and Hollywood films) theatre (there are plays in all languages), pubs, music, art, book launches and other leisure like any other modern city of the world. Most importantly people are not self-conscious and neither curious. Intriguingly only recently there has been sudden resurgence of regionalism (an issue picked up by a political party to win local community votes). But yes there has been talk about local culture being at stake. Mumbai terror attack was the first instance when multitudes of people took to streets to protest against terrorism and major security lapse by the administration and state government.

Life in Kolkata is total contrast. It was nothing short of a ‘culture’ shock when I first arrived here. Railway stations are busy but noisier too and crowd doesn’t always move towards a definite destination. Also movement of people in general is very slow. Not all people have to commute very long distances, so there is a sort of laid back attitude that is unnerving. Political flags are visible every where all time of the year. City comes to a grinding halt whenever there are political rallies and agitations (which happen almost every other day). Each resident is highly politically conscious and almost wears his/her political leanings (only two options –Left or Non-Left) on sleeves. Most people are highly self-conscious, highly reactionary (for no reason at all) and curiosity level is uncomfortably high. People not only talk but eat, sleep, dream in the local language that is Bengali. Gender stereotypes are highly visible and retained. Work culture is totally missing but other local cultures are highly visible. Bengal renaissance holds an important place in the history of India. Every other household has complete works of Nobel laureate Rabindranath Tagore. Every evening after dusk one can hear women/children singing Rabindra Sangeet in any residential areas. Theatre groups are very active (even politically). City ‘intelligentsia’ are biggest critics of the ruling Left which has been in power for almost 30 years. They mobilized support for biggest opposition party and forced ruling Left to back foot on the plans of using farmlands for SEZ (Special Economic Zone) projects. Ruling Left has become pro-right and Opposition has taken to streets in typical Leftist style asking for rights of farmers and downtrodden people. City culture is changing fast with opening of IT sectors, malls and multiplexes but yet it remains deep rooted in its past.

Globalisation and city-centered economic activities can and will only add urban woes. There is huge influx of migrant workers everyday in both cities. Infrastructure is almost crumbling. Pollution and population are the biggest issues.  But global forces cannot erase local cultures. I guess both traits of growing fast and being deeply rooted are very important for balanced growth of any city, country or even a person. Also this cultural diversity is the main essence and beauty of life throughout the history of human civilization and was never erased by changing times. New cultures keep evolving with Time while old ones are carried forward too.

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Let us not spoil the Christmas and New Year party. These are hard times – recession and terror attacks have only made them worse. But this is the time of the year to count our blessings for being alive and for being able to think about small, big moments of happiness.

There are always reasons to celebrate. Those who have lost their jobs should be happy to have had one in the first place and for being spirited enough to look for new openings. Those who have lost their lives under various circumstances be it suicide or terror attack or accident or disease are already beyond pain. And many who are mourning loss of dear ones have no other choice but to put the chin up, find reasons to carry on and count their blessings for being alive.

Amnesia + Ignorance = Bliss, is the new formula for the happiness.  The more you forget all pains, the better you are. The less you know, the less you think and better you float in happiness. Not convinced? Suppose it’s a splurge fun party, is there any reason to think about how many hungry people that money can feed?  No need remember all those UN statistics about hungry and homeless. Forget it. Also what is the point of knowing all this state of the poor in the world? Awareness is not going to feed people and help planet survive. So it is best to be ignorant.

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Sometimes we all seem to be trapped in Kafka’s world of alienation and fear of persecution. Psychologists, psychiatrists have been sifting through layers of human mind and intellect to find answers to the various illness of the mind. Mind, unlike body, is a fairly unknown terrain and hence diagnosis and treatment becomes a matter of debate.

The reason to delve into depth of human psyche here is manifold. Thanks to communication technology world indeed seems to be global village but yet each day while we try to build these bridges across the globe through social networking we seem to be losing out on our natural instinct to bond with other people and specially children. The suicide rates are forever going up. The family, basic mental support system of a child, is more fragile than ever. This lonely child grows up to become a frustrated and sadist individual with no compassion and passion for creative pursuits but a fury to kill and destroy. Loneliness, alienation and fear of persecution can be treated better with compassion and better innovative ways rather than with modern medicines which tend to calm the nerves by putting them to sleep. 

Sadly, the outer world is grappling with new self created demons and devils itself. Terrorism, materialistic world and inflation are only adding to the woes of the mind. Killings are desensitizing human mind, materialistic pursuit cannot feed the human soul and inflation woes never allow the mind to be free to think beyond next meal. There is no time for poetry, imaginary, dreams or any fairy tales. Death of human imagination is visible in all the unresolved problems discussed in all the posts below. Be it gross violation of human and child rights, terrorism, war on terrorism, state of women and children in third world, misinformation (be it AIDS or simple clinical depression) in the era of information technology and modern media, there are enough pointers to how desensitized and compassionless materialistic world has become. We are staring at an abyss and there is no turning back.

In this modern trendy world there is no time to think about this vital healing power of human imagination and compassion. Modern day Van Gogh or Kafka has no support system of family or friends to help battle personal demons and treasure the masterpieces for future. They have to move into asylums, where their art maybe displayed and auctioned by some NGOs. Their works often die on the walls of elite homes. On the other hand the fury of poor alienated children and youth have become potential arsenal for militant groups.  Child soldiers of Congo and child recruits by militant groups are a reality.

Unfortunately there is increased alienation with greater fear of prosecution and absolutely no freedom from the agonies of the soul. Distances between two human minds have increased in proportion to the so called shrinking of globe. Trust is rare. As we stand guarding our supreme privacy and building tall firewalls we are losing the glimpse of imprisoned and dying lonely soul.  Beauty and the beast residing in every human soul may have vital keys to correct some aberrations of the modern world. Corrections should start from inside out.

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I have a good friend who is from Zimbabwe. Whenever we talk about the country, her eyes seem to almost well up with tears and she so clearly misses the land of her birth, a land she describes as so beautiful, so bountiful. She will likely never return home – the home she knew barely seems to exist now. With inflation running at (at least) 2.3 million per cent, a cholera epidemic growing daily, dictatorial oppression and unemployment running at 80% – the country seems to be transformed from pearl into peril. The Archbishop Desmond Tutu has described this transformation as from “bread basket” to “basket case”.

The situation is akin to a war of terror being waged upon a people, a war of callous indifference and cruelty, a war of one man: Robert Mugabe. He was once considered a hero of the resistance against the British and a freedom fighter festooned with accolades of adoration and respect. Now he is merely one in a long line of wicked men (not particularly unique to Africa) who cast a shadow far greater than they should ever be allowed to.

Mugabe has apparently compared himself to Adolf Hitler in the past. His dinky little moustache appears to confirm this personal historical affectation. He has ground this proud nation of Zimbabwe into dust under his expensive European shoes. His followers and soldiers have raped and murdered in his name. There’s not much to say (when there is so obviously so very much to be said) about such evil and wickedness, about one man’s desire to force a country to conform to his will, to suffer under the aspiration of his outrageous vanity and narcissistic rage.

One day he will be gone (if he is not assassinated) by natural means – death or incapacity to rule through old age. My fear is that some other despot will be waiting in the wings to don Mugabe’s silk robes of opulent wickedness and to continue to squeeze whatever blood out of what is left after Mugabe’s reign of terror over Zimbabwe.

The name “Zimbabwe” is an abbreviation of “Zimbadzemabwe” – which means “Houses of Stones” and is a reference to the ancestors of modern Zimbabwe who once built and lived in houses made of stones. There are fabulous walls and towers once constructed in Zimbabwe’s deep past, magnificent edifices of stone which remain as celebration of a culture, a time and a people. While I do not doubt the resilience, intelligence and forbearance of the people of Zimbabwe, it seems that there may be a time coming for Zimbabwe when the Houses of Stones are all that remain.

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Times Online: The extent of the suffering in Zimbabwe ‘has reached Auschwitz proportions’.

“How can we be sure that we are not impostors ?”
Jacques Lacan

Ever since Lacan it has been common enough to understand our Self as being a psychological entity defined reflexively through the image(s) we perceive, interpret or project upon the world.  That the image in the mirror of culture, language, media and narrative represents something of an idealised and eternally unattainable complete and perfect symbol of a notional psychological wholeness is of no great contention.  We human beings are narrative creatures – we tell stories, we gossip, we collect anecdotes and news items.  Our psychological essence is, in many ways, a composite or amalgam of many creatively fabricated, collected and thoroughly plagiarised stories which we manage to weave into one grand narrative of Self.  This makes our temporal, time-based existence and our cognitive understanding of this sound very fragmented, partial, incomplete and unsettled.  It appears this way because it is incomplete and fragmented and in a fundamental way.

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