In praise of questions
By Shashi Tharoor
"The Hindu", Online edition of India's National Newspaper
November 12, 2006


A people who have long thrived on interaction with the rest of the world... tend axiomatically to discard the notion that they have found all the answers.

"EVERY once in a while," a friend commented archly the other day, "you don't seem to be able to avoid writing about Kerala in your column. And yet you claim there's no such thing as Malayali chauvinism!"

"Well, hold on a minute," I protested weakly, before running out of steam. And then a stranger came to my rescue. "Read this," I said, thrusting a letter at her from a very large pile of neglected correspondence.

Puzzling phenomenon

The epistolary saviour in question, whom I gratefully acknowledge today, is a Mr. S. Sreetilak, an editor with a Delhi firm called Viva Books — which I clearly should have heard of, given their excellent taste in editors. In a detailed three-page missive, sprinkled with digs at the unmerited chauvinism of other Indian communities (which I modestly do not propose to repeat here), he argues that the absence of Malayali chauvinism is truly puzzling. "Why so," he asks, "when Malayalis could have been the most boastful of Indian peoples — and with full justification?"

The justification is not long in coming. Mr. Sreetilak advances a case for Kerala chauvinism in eight points, which bear examination.

The first, inevitably, is the Malayalam language, born of the fusion of two great classical languages, Tamil and Sanskrit. This enables Malayalis to master languages deriving either from the Indo-European or Dravidian linguistic families, an incomparable advantage that does not work in reverse: Malayalis learn Hindi or Tamil more easily than UPites or Madrasis learn Malayalam. (The polyglot Gandhiji famously stumbled in his attempts to learn even a smattering of Malayalam.)

Take on modernity

Mr. Sreetilak's second point he calls "Malayali modernity". Speaking of his willingness to wear a mundu to his post-graduate classes in English, which many of his fellow students stigmatised as backwardness, he argues that "Kerala modernity was an assimilation rather than an adaptation, expressed in thoughts rather than in appearance". He seems to be stretching a point here: to argue that Keralites can think modern thoughts in traditional dress is entirely sustainable, but then northern India is full of politicians spouting socialism in homespun khadi while barking into their cell phones. (One-one, I'm afraid, Mr. Sreetilak.)

On to his third point: the absence of an urban-rural divide in Kerala, which is so common to the rest of India. "The whole of Kerala is an extended city, and all cities have the virtues of the countryside," he writes. "Villages have electricity, water, basic and cellular telephones, and Internet." Could Punjab make the same claim? I'm not sure, so score one more for Kerala. (Two-one, in case Mr. Sreetilak's fans are keeping count.)

Point four: the European connection, which came to Kerala not through the British, but the Portuguese and Dutch, whose architectural influence can be spotted in the tiled roofs of Kerala's homes and temples. Here Mr. Sreetilak loses me: is he seriously arguing that Malayalis have more to brag about in their "choice" of coloniser? If he'd argued the case for Kerala's openness to the world, which I've previously made in this column, he'd have had a better chance of persuading me. (Two-all, I'm afraid.)

Five: Kerala's broader exposure to world literature and culture than that of other parts of India. "Already in the 1920s Malayalis were exposed to Impressionism, Dadaism, Post-impressionism, Cubism etc. through the writings of Kesari Balakrishna Pillai," says Mr. Sreetilak. "A Malayali who reads at least one Malayalam newspaper and one good magazine is likely to have at least heard the names of Garcia Marquez, Saramago, Gunter Grass, Milan Kundera, all of whom are available in Malayalam translation." Most non-Malayali professors of literature, he avers, are ignorant beyond their Shakespeare and Eliot. Debatable, perhaps, but hard to disagree that Kerala is undoubtedly more intellectually cosmopolitan than any other Indian State taken as a whole: three-two for Mr. Sreetilak.

His sixth point argues that Kerala's music is distinct and that "Malayalam film songs are the most raga-based of all Indian film songs." I have a lurking suspicion that Kerala isn't Carnatic enough to boast the nation's best music, but I'm not enough of an expert to adjudicate that one. I'll give Mr. Sreetilak half a mark here to be safe.

Can you leave the films out?

But he gets one and a half for his seventh point, the undoubted superiority of Malayalam films. To his credit he doesn't just mention the great names like Adoor, but also the "social comedies of Sreenivasan and Satyan Antikkad". I'd add M.T. Vasudevan Nair and Ramu Kariat to that list, not to mention Santhosh Sivan and the younger talents now making their money in Bollywood and beyond. There was a time when Bengal could have vied for this distinction with Kerala, but today it's a no contest.

Mr. Sreetilak wins his argument conclusively with his clincher: books. Kerala's book culture is unmatched in India. Original works, translations, regional favourites, global classics — the Malayali reader has them all. You can read "Beowulf" in Malayalam (and in no other Indian language), as well as the complete works of Shakespeare (ditto). My own publishers, Penguin Books, have bowed to this reality by deciding to start publishing in Malayalam. "Intellectually," Mr. Sreetilak concludes triumphantly, "we are to India what France is to Europe."

Important quality

So six out of eight to Mr. Sreetilak, but even that grudging mark must be upgraded in view of the arguments he has deliberately omitted — what he calls "the already-famous features of brand Kerala", Kathakali, Koodiyattam, Otanthullal, Ayurveda, literacy and social equality. Indeed, Keralites have a great deal to be chauvinistic about. That they are not is a tribute to the other quality of Kerala he doesn't mention: its humility. A people who have long thrived on interaction with the rest of the world, openness to outside influences and willingness to travel and work elsewhere, tend axiomatically to discard the notion that they have found all the answers. It is enough, for most Keralites, that they are able to ask the right questions.

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