Cows:
Are as much a symbol of India as of Switzerland, though ours do not contribute
to a flourishing cheese and chocolate industry. But the veneration of the cow
and its ubiquitousness have become something of a cliche, masking the often
depressing reality of the conditions in which Indian cows live and
die.
Let's return to our
occasional glossary of the assumptions and shared reference points that make up
the idea of Indianness. Last time we left it halfway through the letter 'C'.
That's where we will
resume.
Congress: Was the name
of our national movement before it became reduced to that of a political party,
and new generations of Indians are continuing to discover how vital is its
magic. Shorn of its associations, 'Congress' is even a faintly absurd name, for
all it means is 'assembly', but it is the association with the freedom struggle
that makes 'Congress' such a sought-after suffix even for opposition parties
(from the Tamil Maanila Congress to the Trinamool Congress). No other political
party in the developing world has as old or as seminal a history, as
agglomerative a nature and as many offspring (with Congresses-I, O, R, S, J and
even U at one stage). The Indian National Congress even inspired the African
National Congress in South Africa and a host of lesser parties around the globe.
That is why, even as it is reduced to heading a minority government, the
Congress — as a movement and a model — should remain a source of
pride for Indians, even those who utterly reject its performance after
Independence.
Corruption: Is
endemic in our society, even if it is never quite as all-pervasive as we
ourselves proclaim it is. Indians are givers and takers of bribes, adulterators
of foodstuffs, black marketeers of cinema tickets, resellers of train
reservations, payers of capitation fees. Our soil nurtures bootleggers,
smugglers, hoarders and touts of all descriptions. Perhaps this is because there
are so many laws and regulations that some will always have to be violated;
perhaps it is that in any situation of resource-scarcity, temptation will always
be reinforced by need; perhaps it is simply that we have so many underpaid
officials exercising power out of all proportion to their earnings that some are
bound to want to narrow the gap by profiting from the power to permit. Perhaps,
as Gibbon remarked about the Roman Empire, corruption is merely "the infallible
symptom of constitutional liberty" — how else can politicians afford to
run for election, after all? Or perhaps we should stop making excuses and find
within ourselves a Hercules to clean out our Augean
stables.
Cows: Are as much a
symbol of India as of Switzerland, though ours do not contribute to a
flourishing cheese and chocolate industry. But the veneration of the cow and its
ubiquitousness have become something of a cliche, masking the often depressing
reality of the conditions in which Indian cows live and
die.
Cricket: Was not
considered our national sport until quite recently (when I was growing up, that
was supposed to be hockey) but the crowds at cricket matches and the media
coverage of the game confirm the new reality. In how many countries would work
crawl practically to a halt during a major match, crowds stay awake till the wee
hours of the morning to hear a result from abroad and pilots interrupt their
passengers' reveries to announce the latest score? The range and subtlety of
cricket, its infinite variations and complexities, its vulnerability to the
caprices of the weather and its inability to guarantee a result make it
perfectly suited to the Indian temperament. Now that our players' performances
are beginning (World Cup aside) to match the spectators' enthusiasm, now that
talent scouts and coaches are moving to the villages, now that the money in the
game is attracting players of ability from all walks (and runs!) of life, now
that 80% of the sport's global revenues come from India, it is time to celebrate
the truth in Ashis Nandy's claim that cricket is really an Indian game
accidentally discovered by the British.
Crowds: Are an inescapable feature of Indian life. If foreigners stepping on to Indian streets
for the first time were asked to name what struck them most about India, it
would not be the heat, the dust or the poverty but simply the crowds — the
enormous pressure of people on every available space. Pavements and parks,
maidens and markets, buildings and buses are all full to an extent never seen
elsewhere. There is no such thing in India as a deserted street, an empty train
or even a secluded spot. Every act that takes place in public, from a farewell
kiss to a film shooting, immediately attracts an audience; every inch of open
space has at least two claimants; open air offers no release from
claustrophobia. The fact that Indians manage to live, function and order their
creative energies even in these circumstances is a remarkable feat of social
organisation.
And before we
leave the letter 'C', a further thought about caste, which featured last time:
Who could have imagined for 3,000 years that an 'untouchable' woman would rule
India's most populous state? It's all to the good that this has happened not
once, but thrice, with Mayawati in UP; it's even better that Dalits have served
as President and Chief Justice of India. Caste isn't what it used to be, an
ineradicable stigma that could make or break your prospects. Perhaps the most
important 'C' word of all in our glossary should be Change.