Months
ago we began an impromptu glossary of the shared assumptions of Indianness. So
far we’ve made it to the letter M, where we pick up the
thread.
Monsoon:
Is not, as a Doon School student once put it, a French gentleman, but the season
that sets our climate apart from the rest of the world's. Other lands have cold
and fog and snow, and some tropical countries enjoy hot and hotter climates
relieved by bursts of wetness, but few know the exhilaration of being lashed by
monsoon rains for weeks on end, the frustration of vehicles stalled in the 180th
successive year of flooded streets, the camaraderie of wading knee-deep in water
with shins bared by the privileged and the proletarian alike, and, let’s
face it, the relief of avoiding our responsibilities as life spirals helplessly
to a halt. In our rural areas the monsoon is life-giving, the harbinger of hope
for the next harvest, nourishing the parched earth, flooding the paddy-fields
and filling the wells that sustain people, animals and plants. The monsoon is
integral to the Indian experience; centuries ago, Kalidasa wrote these immortal
lines about the monsoon - "a source of fascination to amorous women, the
constant friend to trees, shrubs and creepers, the very life and breath of all
living beings, this season of rains". No one who has experienced the monsoon can
treat the rains of Western climes as anything but a nuisance; our rains,
however, are an
event.
Mother
Teresa:
With her compassion, her vigour
and her faith, Mother Teresa brought light into the lives - and the deaths - of
many miserable human beings who might never have known what it was to be touched
by grace. Yet, for all her undoubted greatness, I cannot help squirming at the
perversity of those Indians who take pride in her Nobel Prize, who instead of
being shamed by the conditions that made the Prize possible, organised
"committees of felicitation" when Mother Teresa returned to Kolkata with a
Norwegian certificate clutched to her Indian passport. We Indians should
actually be striving to create the kind of society that makes a Mother Teresa
unnecessary.
Music:
Enters every Indian ear; from the classical cadences of the sitar and the sarod
to the lyrical lilt of catchy film-tunes, music is impossible to escape in
India, whether blaring from your neighbour’s radio in the morning,
broadcast on loudspeakers outside temples and tea-stalls all day or nocturnally
available in the all-night concerts of classicians. To the undiscriminating
connoisseur there is a vast range to be traversed between Carnatic and
Hindustani music, morning ragas and mourning ragas, Ravi Shankar and Lata
Mangeshkar. With Muslim ustads playing Hindu devotional ragas and Bollywood
playback singers chanting Urdu lyrics, the music of India is the collective
anthem of a hybrid civilisation. But music represents an even larger metaphor,
for it sets the tone for the political life of modern India - in which, rather
like traditional Indian music, the broad basic rules are firmly set, but within
them one is free to improvise, unshackled by a written score.
Nationalisation:
An act of socialist governance that consists of transferring banks, insurance
companies, industries and other functioning institutions from the hands of
competent capitalists into those of bumbling bureaucrats. The prevalence of
nationalisation in the face of widespread evidence of its shortcomings,
inefficiencies and failures testifies to the curious Indian credo that public
losses are preferable to private profits. In other countries, this would be
known as cutting off your nose to spite your face.
Nehru:
Was as much the father of modern India as Mahatma Gandhi was of Indian
independence. Nehru was a moody, idealistic intellectual who felt an almost
mystical empathy with the toiling peasant masses; an aristocrat, born and
accustomed to privilege, who had passionate socialist convictions; an Anglicised
product of Harrow and Cambridge who spent over 10 years in British jails; an
agnostic radical who became an unlikely protege of the saintly Mahatma. Few
national political leaders have made as much of an impact on their
nation’s ethos. It is to Jawaharlal Nehru that we owe the 'socialistic
pattern of society', the dominance of the public sector over the 'commanding
heights of the economy', parliamentary democracy, non-alignment, secularism, the
electoral system, the IITs, respect for the judiciary, freedom of the press, the
Nehru jacket, the Congress cap and, at several removes, Rahul Gandhi.
Nepotism:
Or uncles granting jobs and favours to nephews, does not exist in India. None of
our prime ministers, for instance, had uncles of any
consequence.
Non-alignment:
Was (and in theory still is) the basis of India's foreign policy and consists of
equidistance from the superpowers, a concept challenged by both geography and
reality, not to mention the lack of a second superpower to be equidistant from.
Nonetheless non-alignment is still paid ritual obeisance by Indian diplomacy,
which has been defined by a former doyen of South Block as being "like the
love-making of an elephant: it is conducted at a high level, accompanied by much
bellowing, and the results are not known for two years."