Green Kerala Express

The President of the Karumalloor Grama Panchayat is facing the arc lights for the first time but he remains unfazed as he confidently fields queries from a jury on the development initiatives undertaken by the panchayat and explains how 250 acres of barren land was transformed into 750 acres of fertile agricultural land in a matter of years. The jury is suitably satisfied by the video presentation, the data provided to them and the village’s response to their queries and they award the Panchayat 46 marks out of 60.

Welcome to GREEN KERALA EXPRESS – touted as India's first and biggest social reality game show (possibly the world’s too), which aims to find the best Panchayat in Haritha Keralam. The contest is based on the performance of each local body in implementing programmes relating to sustainable agriculture, conservation of water resources, food and social security, Kudumbasree, National Rural Employment Guarantee Scheme (NREGS), health, education, energy, housing, women’s empowerment and participation in grama sabhas in the state of Kerala. The first phase covers Grama Panchayats and the second phase will focus on Urban Local Bodies (Corporations & Municipalities together).

Doordarshan has done yeoman service in covering rural India for several years, starting with its Krishi Darshan and other socio-cultural programmes which are incidentally still watched in rural India (though the lure of daily soaps have probably torn away people from such programmes). Now, in an inspired piece of programming, the Thiruvananthapuram Kendra (DD Malayalam) is telecasting this 100+ episode show where villages compete with each other for a Kaun Banega Crorepati (yes, the winning village gets 1 crore!!!), highlighting their grassroots-level, sustainable developmental projects.

Kerala has 999 village panchayats, 53 municipalities and five municipal corporations. Two months back, DD had invited entries from local bodies. Around 200 local bodies sent their proposals, with 10-minute documentaries. Each entry was subjected to scrutiny by a couple of Technical Committees, based on the performance of the panchayat as understood from the filled-in questionnaire and other materials and input.

The jury shortlisted 150 out of 999 panchayats and a Production team was assigned the responsibility to visit the villages and make a short film based on the information submitted to them. The selection is to be narrowed down to 15 panchayat projects at the end of this first screening stage, and to three by the end of second for the final show. Of the total prize money of Rs 3 crore, the winning village would walk away with the 1 crore prize, funded by the state government.

In each episode, the film made by the panchayat is screened in front of the jury along with a short profile of the village followed by the video prepared by the production team. Then, a panchayat representative — with a group of villagers — comes into the studio, talks about the project, and fields queries from a jury comprising experts from various fields. Post-this, the jury awards them a score and the SMS voting for the village is announced.

The brains behind this fascinating game show are two humble bureaucrats - Doordarshan Assistant Director Sajan Gopalan and C-DIT Deputy Director K Mohan Kumar, who conceived it as a travelogue-type reality show which focuses on rural Kerala. The show has been produced by the Centre for Development of Imaging Technology (C-DIT) for the Local Self Government Department (LSGD), Government of Kerala. The Doordarshan Kendra, Thiruvananthapuram, Suchitwa Mission and Kerala Institute of Local Administration (KILA) are its co-producers.

The programme, which would be a unique documentation of grassroot-level positive initiatives, should inspire other local bodies to deliver better results... To add entertainment elements, there would be a little bit of drama and celebrities as members of the jury. Although the show would not have all the trappings of popular reality shows, audience would get a chance to SMS for their favourate panchayat and its project

says Sajan.

There were initial apprehensions on the quality of a DD sponsored programme but thankfully, the first few episodes (started on March 1st) of this daily half hour interactive show have proved sceptics wrong. The sets carry a green hue and the anchors are cheerful youngsters who give it a professional look. We have seen enough tantrums being thrown by judges in game shows but thankfully down south, the decorum has not yet been shattered and the producers have not resorted to unnecessary melodrama or audio-video jugglery which characterize most such shows.

Instead, presenting in such a format has ensured that it is an engaging exercise in intellect, without alienating a majority of viewers. The programme also has a fantastic title track, composed by Dr Sreevalsan J Menon. To add to the show’s green flavour, the programme anchor tours the panchayat only in a cycle, as he goes about talking to various villagers. Keeping in tune with the latest trends, the winner panchayat and project will be judged partly on SMSes sent by audience. DD has also roped in film stars to pitch in their support for the programme, trying to reach out to a wider audience.

The judge panel consists of two permanent jury members (Vineetha Menon, head of the department of anthropology, Kannur University and K.P. Kannan, former director of Centre for Development Studies), two technical jury members (such as environmentalists R.V.G. Menon and M.K. Prasad, agriculture expert R. Heli ) and a celebrity judge.

The choice of Padmapriya as a celebrity judge is an interesting choice (her lack of Malayalam knowledge could have been a hindrance in such a show but then she is a Ph.D student in Panchayati Raj Development!) and it presents to the contestants a chance to interact with an intelligent woman, who has taken up acting as a profession and not the usual bimbos who turn up in many shows. The primary focus of most of the interactions have pertained to agriculture, health, education and employment, specifically on the fufillment of NREGS objectives.

While most villages have done their homework, there are exceptions too who cut a sorry figure too - like Kalady village whose data provided was incomplete and incorrect and the representatives were hard pressed to answer questions put to them (including the incredible claim of providing only 8 man days under NREGS but being the highest disbursal of NREGS funds in Ernakulam!!!); the President was quick to blame paucity of time and the clerk for providing the data. The presence of an intelligent jury ensures that villages are asked questions properly and the mediocre ones are weeded out, as exhibited during the sessions.

It is interesting to note that in most Panchayats, the funds alloted to them (atleast on paper) have not been fully utilized, so is the issue of insufficient funds a valid reason? The fact that in many places changes have happened due to active intervention of the Panchayat (financially and culturally-like not alloting numbers to houses who do not co-operate as in Karumalloor or reclaiming occupied land near the Kalpathy river to protect it by Akathethara panchayat) gives an insight into the power devolution in rural areas; unlike in urban spaces where people do not even know their neighbours. Greater decentralization has helped the local self governments to take decisions on their own.

There have been a few interesting stories that have emerged in the episodes so far:

• Adattu, in Thrissur, a village that ditched pesticides for organic farming

• Cheriyanad, in Alappuzha, the country’s first litigation-controlled and legally-literate grama panchayat

• Nilambur (under the leadership of writer Aryadan Shoukath), in Malappuram, attempts to become the country's first dowry-free village

• Elappully, in Palakkad, a model dairy village with significant work in the field of dairy development and restoration of water bodies in the area (and it is my village too which is leading with 51 marks!!!)

• Eloor, in Ernakulam, replaced all its incandescent bulbs with fluorescent models with the Panchayat enlisting the help of students in this plan

With most TV channels running out of ideas and resorting to cliched and stupid game shows (like swayamvar tests) and umpteen music shows, it exposes the bankruptcy of ideas that most major channels have. Bringing all these panchayats together and trying to analyse their models of sustainable developments is not an easy job but the endeavour is definitely praiseworthy. Judging a panchayat in less than 15 minutes may be a bit short but keeping the television audience in mind, anything more could turn-off potential viewers.

A lot of constructive work done in many remote parts do not get attention and this show gives an opportunity to witness such work. I do not know what the show’s TRPs are but I sincerely believe that if this show succeeds, it is a success for all those who believe in the power of television to sell infotainment creatively. Incidentally, inspired by this concept, DD is considering plans to conduct a show on these lines on a pan-India level.

Urban India is well and truly divorced from its rural cousin and this show presents an opportunity to take a peek into this world. Of course, the semi-rural/urban nature of Kerala and the decentralization of powers have ensured that this alienation has not reached the extreme end as in most parts of the country. We think that in the midst of an IT revolution, our dependency on agriculture is taking us backwards and the way ahead is to stop this trend. But when you examples of places as shown in the programme where villages have taken to agriculture in a large way and produced fantastic results, you can clearly see the urban-rural divide.  

P.S. This show is being screened thrice a day in DD-Malayalam, at 5pm, 8.30 pm and 11.00 pm from Monday to Friday. After daily scratching our heads on what to watch on television prime time, we have finally something to look forward to. Additionally, I guess, it also provides an avenue for us to get in touch with our roots, despite being away from it. Watching DD-Malayalam for the past few days has actually been an eye-opener-serious programming (a bit drab at times) actually exists!!! 

Survival of the Humble Brinjal

When the Union Minister for Environment Jairam Ramesh announced an indefinite moratorium on Bt brinjal last month, the decision created a small window for many in India to sit and understand what the fuss is all about, without being swept away in the tides of another flawed Green Revolution, fuelled by the usage of Genetic Modified Crops. It is important that we understand that the Bt Brinjal issue is not a simple Traditional Vs Modernity fight or a rural farmer issue but a complex issue concerning National Security – there are 40+ GM food crops which are in the pipeline and covers every aspect of food security in India.

Bt Brinjal is a transgenic brinjal created by inserting a gene (Cry 1Ac) from the soil bacterium Bt into brinjal. The insertion of the gene into the vegetable is said to give the brinjal plant resistance against insects like the brinjal fruit and shoot borer and fruit borer. In India, Bt Brinjal is being promoted by Mahyco (Maharashtra Hybrid Seeds Company). If cleared for human consumption, Bt-brinjal will be the first GM vegetable crop approved for cultivation anywhere in the world. GM corn and GM soya are mainly used to feed cattle in North America or go into processed foods.

US multinational bio-technology firm Monsanto (which sells 90 per cent of the world's genetically engineered seeds), promotes GM crops in India through Mahyco-Monsanto Biotech, a 50:50 joint venture between Monsanto and Mahyco. In the 80s, Monsanto developed and patented a technology that enabled inject the Bt gene into seeds, as a result of which whenever a pest attacks the plant it dies. No one knows for sure what happens to the human beings who actually consume it. The scientific community is divided over the effects of this gene on us and opponents of GM (Genetically Modified) Food have raised issues on the health, environmental, economic and ethical aspects of moving over to GM food.

If you were to ask if eating Bt brinjal is dangerous or would cause cancer or any life threatening disease, the upfront answer to that would be an emphatic DON’T KNOW. Bt brinjal has not been properly tested for health or environmental safety though the advocates of Genetically Modified Organisms (GMOs) say that they are safe and are the same as the naturally occurring organisms used to create the transgenic crop.

In October 2009, the Indian biotechnology regulator, Genetic Engineering Approval Committee (GEAC), the statutory body responsible for approving its cultivation in India which is an ad hoc 30-member committee comprising mainly bureaucrats and scientists, gave its approval for introduction of Bt brinjal. The clearance was provided by the GEAC based purely on the data provided by Mahyco and the institutions it used for testing without doing any independent testing!!!

Isn’t this a clear case of conflict of interest- you create a product, do the testing yourself or sanction it and provide data to a regulator and the dumb regulator accepts it, without any form of independent evaluation. The French geneticist, Gilles-Eric Seralini, who was commissioned by the environmental group Greenpeace to check the claims made by Mahyco at the GEAC pronounced the data submitted by Monsanto-Mahyco as insufficient and misleading on several counts and the GEAC wanting in diligence. There are no proper bio-safety regulations for the environmental release of transgenic crops in India, with the GEAC, essentially adopting U.S.-style lack of regulation for GMOs.

The GEAC also says that they were not sure about the long-term health effects of genetically modified food on humans and stipulate that surveillance and long-term follow up should be conducted — essentially saying that you can eat Bt brinjal and it’s fine now but in the long term, it may or may not cause problems. How can the Government give clearance for something as radical as GM food without sufficient clinical trials? Apart from the fact that there were no long-term tests conducted for human safety, the adverse results of the short-term tests on lab rats were actually suppressed.

One of the more touted benefits of GMOs is that they reduce the use of pesticides, making it a more eco-friendly alternative. But there is always a danger of the pests developing resistance to the gene just as some populations of mosquitoes developed resistance to DDT. A Government conducted survey in 2002-03 on Bt Cotton (the first transgenic crop to be released in India) revealed an almost 99% incidence of the pink bollworm, a major pest that attacks the cotton crop.

Monsanto admitted this week that during field monitoring in 2009, the Bt cotton variety used in four Gujarat districts — Amreli, Bhavnagar, Junagarh and Rajkot — failed to control pests. Similar cases have been reported on the American bollworm, increasingly indicating that the pest is growing immune to the Bt gene. Some studies have shown that GM crops have destroyed useful insects as well as changed the nature of the soil (Monsanto had developed a herbicide called Round Up which when sprayed killed not only weeds but also soya. So it developed a GM soya bean which was resistant to Round Up and sold both the herbicide and the seed – a perfect double whammy!!!).

Conventionally in India, farmers buy seeds from the Government (centres like Krishi Bhavan) and then save their seeds from year to year obtained after the initial produce, for further usage. These seeds are diverse and replicable and over the years given the climatic conditions, these native seeds develop resistance to pests and disease attacks. The cost of a packet of Bt Cotton is Rs. 1600 as compared to the non-Bt hybrid that costs between Rs. 380 to Rs 460 because seed costs are higher.

Also since the Bt Cotton plant is not effective in controlling secondary pests like the white mosquito, aphids and other sucking pests, more pesticides have to be used, escalating total input costs. Monsanto patents its seeds and insists on contractual agreements with farmers that they will not save and replant seeds the next season, increasing the price of the seeds when compared to the inexpensive seeds available in the market (To enforce this, it had developed a terminator gene which produce sterile seeds that do not germinate, ensuring that farmers buy the seeds every year).

Another strong argument in favour of the Bt seeds is their claim to increasing crop yields by ushering a second Green Revolution. This is a false promise; Bt cotton destroys bollworm while Bt brinjal prevents the fruit and shoot borer but beyond this, they remain the same in their susceptibility towards other issues. Every year we have bumper harvests but the final produces lie rotting in government godowns and are burnt later on while millions suffer due to starvation and hunger. The problem we face is more related to distribution and less with production, so is increasing the yield through such suspect methods the only way out?

Access to food of our choice is a basic human right; we all can exercise this human right by refusing or agreeing to purchase engineered and manufactured food. But how can we differentiate between a normal brinjal and a Bt brinjal? Monsanto has consistently refused to label its GM foods, leading to most European countries banning GM foods. Moreover, India does not have a proper labeling system to distinguish and inform us of the GM content in our food.

In the words of Jeffrey Smith, author of Genetic Roulette on Bt Brinjal - If Bt brinjal produces allergic or toxic symptoms in the population, it could be years or decades before authorities are able to track the cause. The brinjal is not labelled, so some may get reactions to some meals with brinjal, and not to others isolating the cause is difficult. By the time it is discovered, the brinjal will have contaminated so many varieties; abandoning brinjal altogether may be the only recourse.

There are more than 2400 varieties of brinjal available in India due to local flavours and conditions. Fostering these bacterial genes into the brinjal could rapidly contaminate the thousands of brinjal varieties because the structure of its flower is conducive to a high rate of cross-pollination, leading to destruction of many of the home grown varieties. With an annual yield of 8 million tones, we do not face any crisis in brinjal production. If food security was an issue behind introduction of GM food crops, then why was brinjal chosen though it is not a staple diet? Maybe the answer lies when you are told that Monsanto spends 2 million dollars a day on research – it’s Payback Time!!!

The First Green Revolution in India in the 1970s regarded chemicals as the magic wands to transform Indian agriculture but these same chemicals are now being looked at as monsters that have adulterated many of our crops. The rest of the world may have banned DDT and Endosulfan but we continue to patronise them and kill our people. Now, there is a demand to bring GMOs to counter these same insecticides. We do not know whether the risk that was taken 30 years back is worth it but now do we want to tempt history again?

There is a risk that bio-technology may be branded as a villain and halted totally but surely, there is a middle ground. Maybe many of us are wrong, maybe GMOs will actually help make a difference but then should we not wait till a proper Cost-Benefit and Risk Analysis is done and we have concrete evidence to actually prove this rather than jumping the gun?

Image Courtesy: http://www.polyp.org.uk/index.html

Ividam Swargamanu

In Ividam Swargamanu, Roshan Andrews and Mohan Lal come together to weave a simple, honest tale tackling the menace of land mafia and the trials and tribulations of a farmer who struggles to save his land in the midst of a corrupt system, a decaying society and a world which is slowly losing its innocence. Roshan casts his net wide enough to bring to our attention many issues but fortunately, none of these deviate from the central theme.

Mathews (Mohanlal) is a farmer who loves his cattle more than anything else. Along with this dad Germias (Thilakan), he builds an ecological heaven for himself in the rustic lands of Kodanadu, after years of hard work. When the real estate ring under Aluva Chandy (Lalu Alex) starts eying his land, Mathews’ troubles start and how he deals with this issue is the core of the movie.

Recent Mohan Lal movies have presented simplistic solutions but thankfully, Kodanadu is no Mithilapuri and Mathews is no Kashinath as in Thandavam (and in many other movies) where the character takes on the mafia single handedly and grinds them to the ground. Instead Roshan Andrews brings on the Satyan Anthikad-Lal touch of the 80s and 90s immortalized by movies like Varavelppu, Gandhi Nagar 2nd Street and TP Balagopalan MA and creates a memorable story, ensuing that Mathews remains a character that we would remember in future too (Looking at its book office fate, I hope that it atleast succeeds in the DVD circuit).

Mathews does everything that he can to stop the sale of his land but Aluva Chandy’s men make life more and more difficult for his family. Eventually, he realises that he needs to be smarter to tackle him and beats him in his own game of conceit. The way this unravels is interesting but it kind of happens too fast and looks a bit too simple and reduces the group of villains to an almost buffonesque state (Reminds you of Khosla Ka Ghosla in this phase of the movie though it is much less dramatic here) . When court cases and procedures go on for centuries and the people involved are in high places (like the Revenue Secretary), it looks far too simple but credit must be given to the director for trying to bring about a solution using proper legal and judicial means, without any form of gimmickry.

The screenplay is concise and to the point, so every scene has relevance and justifies the way characters go about their business. Sunitha (Lakshmi Rai) takes up the case not only because she wants to get back to her trouble makers but also because for her this is linked to her cost of living (the scene where she haggles with a vegetable vendor on the prices is a subtle touch). Prabalan Vakil (Sreenivasan) is the Amicus Curiae and has a job to do but at the same time he is also driven by his concern towards the issue of the loss of agriculture lands to corporates. Betsy, a television reporter (Priyanka Nair) is fascinated by his farm and believes that this is a human interest story which would sell on TV and the fact that Mathews is her mother’s ex-student incentivises this further.

The villagers believe that a township can actually bring about changes – for somebody it is extra jobs, for somebody, it is additional business while for many, it is publicity for a village which has never made it big. The Communist Party initially supports Mathews’ cause but later abandons the cause when they realise that they do not have the backing of people. When a comrade says that the party should stick to its principles and not succumb to popular perceptions, the leader reminds him of the parliamentary elections and the effect of taking such a stand.

The high element of decentralization in Kerala has created a lot of power at the grass roots level and the movie takes us into the narrow corridors of corruption in these small offices. So, instead of taking the conventional route of Ministers and Chief Ministers being involved in big dramas, you have councillors, Church committees, trade unions, village panchayats, block development offices and myriads of governmental offices with all sorts of procedures which seem to have been created just to make our lives more and more difficult. Notice how the Collector realises that the peon has delayed despatching the official notice but is wary to take action because of his standing among the unions. This world never features in Bollywood but finds a prominent place in our cinema (a reflection of how the distinction between villages and towns has still not been perpetuated in most of Kerala).

The writer, James Albert, gives us a bird eye view of the corruption that happens in real estate deals. Jagathy in an excellent cameo as Bhuvanachandran, a document forgery expert, shows how documents are manipulated – despite our cynicism, it is still an eye opener. So, you have mechanisms to forge signatures and Voter IDs, make alterations on the paper through natural means, and make documents look older than they are through innovative methods (The use of various fountain pens for each decade and Chelpark ink to provide that authentication shows the research done). Isn’t it amazing to know that when Government gifts free land to poor people, many of these people do not even exist? Later, a real estate shark like Aluva Chandy forges documents to prove that the land has been sold to him (from people who only exist on paper) and sells/develops the land to make money.

When the movie showcases Mathews’ farm (his farm makes use of intelligent use of natural bio-techniques and avoids the use of pesticides; there is a proper waste management system and the drainage flow is well regulated) and there are rumours of real estate interest being shown in the area, there is a hint that the movie may look at the issue of Nature Vs Development or even the Right to Property but the director quickly settles down for a more conventional script dealing with a farmer fighting the land mafia, making it a Good Guy Vs Bad Guy story. While this is not exactly a cop out, it could have made for a more interesting clash. After all everyone in the real estate business is not a villain; there is a genuine argument to bring about a middle ground in this discussion – but Aluva Chandy is a caricature in that sense, he is a scheming villain who is out to swindle the entire population.

But that should not take away the credits of the movie and these are abundant. Mohan Lal returns to his roots and steals the show with his wonderful presence and he is ably supported by an excellent set of characters. The humour is natural and gladly devoid of Suraj, Harishree Asokan and the rest who have been plaguing most movies nowadays. The script is the hero and while the length of the movie may bother a few people, I was pretty comfortable with it. But what does it say of the Kerala cine goer who is glad to watch Happy Husbands and Chattambi Nadu but shying away from endorsing movies like Ividam Swargamanu, Paleri Manikyam and Bhramram? If even a superstar cannot bring crowds to good cinema, is there a reason to be hopeful?

P.S. This movie also has a personal interest for me. My wife’s tharavadu (with an Anjaneya temple and pond in its precincts) is among the very few places in the heart of Palakkad town, which has not been sold. A couple of years back, their neighbour passed away and his land which comprised many trees and a pond was bought by the Pavizham Group, which has bought many tracts of land around the place. All the trees were cut and the pond was dried out and now, you have the Jobys Mall there – supposedly the first shopping mall in the district. The gentle breeze and cool shade brought about these lovely surroundings has now been replaced by the noisy din of the construction and buzz of the people visiting the mall. Hopefully, our tharavadu will continue to flourish, as it has been doing all these years but when the entire populace is changing, how long can we stop this, especially with the next generation losing interest in maintaining them?

The Case of the Missing Pakistanis

Diplomacy is a tough nut to crack, especially when the issue is an Indo-Pak issue. It takes a small snub (even imaginary) for the so called peace between India and Pakistan to shred. Every “window of opportunity” opens both ways – either into chaos or peace and inevitably, it is the chaos that makes it mark when it comes to our grand relationship with our neighbours. Lalit Modi, Vice-President of the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI) runs this cash cow called IPL, which incidentally also indulges in cricket as a major past time and is now single-handedly responsible for hijacking India-Pakistan relations!!!

The IPL-3 issue that is being treated as a setback to Indo-Pak diplomacy is at best a business decision where the franchisees who put in the money decided to hedge their bets, play safe and not risk bringing in Pakistani cricketers. Sure, they could have been more taut and diplomatic and put up an honest face saying that looking at the state of affairs in the sub-continent, they were not too keen on promoting Aman ki Aasha here. Isn’t this a rational decision where investors with limited money put in the money, keeping in mind the maximization of their returns?

But then cricket in India’s been a simple game – it is a kind of diplomatic chessboard where every guy has a word on how to play one’s moves. The Pakistan Cricket Board (PCB) claims that the move was a deliberate snub by India and that the Modi must apologize for hurting the sentiments of thousands of Pakistanis. The way I see it, the IPL and India have made fun of us and our country by treating us this way," Afridi said. 'I am very disappointed,' said all-rounder Abdul Razzaq. 'This is a conspiracy to malign us... It was their plan.' Pakistan Sports Minister Jhakhrani told Indian Sports Minister M.S. Gill that it was 'utterly disappointing that not a single Pakistani was auctioned for the cash lucrative IPL'.

The Government also decided to put in feeble comments on how eager they were all to watch the Pakistani players and how Modi and Co had missed this window of opportunity. Rediff reports - Prime Minister Manmohan Singh is believed to be extremely upset -- some say even livid -- over the manner in which Indian Premier League boss Lalit Modi has ensured that Pakistan players are kept out of the latest edition of the Twenty20 extravaganza. The Indian PM actually spoke, without asking for madam’s instructions!!!! Wish he explained what window of opportunity is it that has been squandered? Maybe it’s time we had a few cricketers to handle our foreign affairs – would be so much easier to shut down terrorist camps and bring about peace.

Union Minister for Youth and Sports M.S. Gill said I trust, that the IPL corporate owners of cricket, have also taken a small lesson, from all this. Everyone must realize, that sports are the bedrock, of people-to-people contact, which we need to promote, with our neighbours. Can someone remind him to try and resolve the sad state of affairs facing hockey in India, with the impending World Cup in February, instead of promoting world peace? Women’s hockey is in a worse situation and the Commonwealth is around the corner but we have left it to the Gods to complete the work on time.

Earlier, Home Minister P Chidambaram had also chided the IPL franchisees, saying the franchisees had done a "disservice" to the game by ignoring the Pakistani players. Chidambaram said the cricket lovers were disappointed by the franchisees' behaviour and felt the entire controversy was avoidable. Of course, if there are any untoward events that would happen, don’t expect the government to gear up to handle the situation? SRK (trying to sound more intelligent than Aamir) chipped in that saying it is sad that Pakistani players were not picked for the event but also adds that such a climate needs to be created for Pakistani players to play (since such a climate does not exist, why the so-called feeling of humiliation at not inviting them?)

The Home Ministry says that there has been a greater outbreak of hostilities lately and the chances of terrorist activities have grown multi-fold in the recent past? Under such circumstances, if some terrorist activity were to happen, what would be the reactions of Indians and Pakistanis here? Can the government promise that Pakistani players would be safe here under any circumstances and protect them (and even Aussies now) from the madness of Shiv Sainiks, who know that they can make the ugliest of remarks and exhibit violence against anyone Bal Thackeray points at and get away with it because the spineless government cannot stop these buffoons?

Skipping an IPL is a snub to Pakistani cricket and has damaged it, says sources. So, if a handful of players make millions, would Pakistani cricket actually be better off? The Pakistani players ignored at the auction were justified in feeling humiliated because they were obviously not judged on merit. But they could have also handled it quietly and taken the moral higher ground but then that’s clearly asking too much from them. By taking measures like cancellation of the visit to India by parliamentarians and the election commissioner and making calls to boycott all sports events scheduled to be held in India, they have merely aggravated the issue.

The IPL is just an investment for the parties who have put crores into it and want to play it safe? How different is it if a private entity decides to start a company in India and decides to play safe and cut all risks. If there were to be a situation like a 26/11 again, will the franchises be able to play the Pakistanis in India (After all, the same Pakistan Governemnt banned its players from playing in IPL-2 stating the same reason)? So, the franchises took a practical call that having Pakistani players in their sides could lead to potential problems. But judging by reactions, the franchises have in one stroke hurt Indo-Pak relations, insulted cricket fans worldwide, embarrassed the country and even brought India and Pakistan to a potential war (What the Mumbai terror attacks could not achieve — an Indo-Pak war — this fresh row could well do that – yes, Pradeep Magazine actually wrote that in The Hindustan Times!!!)

Cricket has, unfortunately, this wonderful responsibility to bring world peace and people still dream that it will bring people together. I must confess that I harboured such thoughts at the height of the Agra Summit hype but as time passes, I have stopped allowing myself to indulge in such inane fantasies. The IPL is a commercial enterprise run by a group of savvy businessmen who can see the fiscal potential of the game; attributing larger virtues of brotherhood is simply foolhardy.

Nine Lives: In Search of the Sacred in Modern India

After a couple of fascinating historicals, William Dalrymple, returns to his roots through a travelogue as his wanderlust takes him across rural India in search of stories that look at how religion and traditions survive in modern India. This isn’t a conventional travelogue – it is more of a biography of its various subjects rather than Dalrymple’s experiences during his travel. The concept of Unity in Diversity has been beaten to the pulp by the media, keen to showcase many superficial symbols of our culture, but he digs deep allowing people to demonstrate this fiversity rather than sticking labels to them. This anthology of nine lives is an interesting mix of the lives of people who represent the various facets of the sub-continent culture, without any glorification.

The anthology begins with The Nun’s Tale in Sravanabelagola which focuses on the life of Prasannamati Mataji, a Jain monk, who renounces a life of wealth to become a nun in search of spiritual enlightenment. The process is a painful and prolonged one but she is determined to go through even if means giving up her youth, material and emotional comforts. But total detachment is not so easy and she suffers from the pangs of suffering from her close friend –another nun who embraces Sallekhana (ritual fasting to death which begs the question whether this is a ritual suicide or not). The austere nature of Jainism with focus on abstinence of practically everything without any tangible rewards which makes it an unlikely choice of a religion to withstand the passage of time but it has survived and is doing just as well.

The Dancer of Kannur takes us to Thalassery where Hari Das, a prison warder becomes a Theyyam dancer during the December to February months and is worshipped as an incarnate deity. Theyyam is a popular Hindu dance form in North Kerala, which takes place in small shrines and is performed by members of the lower caste. Once he dons the grease paint and enters into a trance, he feels an unknown shakti entering him and has miraculous healing powers and people come to him, across all castes, seeking his blessings. For Hari, Theyyam is a tool of social empowerment which has improved the conditions of the lower castes but the reality is that the upper class Namboodris who pay their respect to the theyyam artist during the performance remains casteist outside it. Theyyam can give him the self-respect that he needs but his regular income comes from his other not-so-divine jobs and he is uncertain whether this art will survive modern education.

The Daughters of Yellamma (based in Belgaum) looks at the world of Devadasis – upper caste “temple women” who at one point of time were regarded as honourable professionals, entering the service of God. Sadly, the services that they render (primarily Dalits) have now reduced them to the level of prostitutes with no locus standi in the society. The protagonist Rani from the Yellama cult, herself dying of AIDS and with both daughters dead, however takes pride in her profession and refuses to be compared to a sex worker but candidly admits that for all her bravado, her auspicious status makes no difference to her clients in bed (“There is no devotional feeling in bed. F***ing is f***ing. There I am just another woman. Just another whore"). Due to the various reform movements and the changing social structure, the status of devadasis fell drastically and the system was finally abolished in the 1920s. However, for the quarter or so of a million devadasis in these parts, the system is possibly the only way out of poverty and so it thrives, not in the way it was intended to be. Nevertheless, with more and more devadasis suffering from AIDS and other STDs , this tradition is dying.

Dalrymple then moves to Pabusar, a small village in Rajasthan, exploring the tradition of oral rendition of epics sung by a community of bhopas in The Singer of Epics. He tracks Mohan Bhopa and his wife, Batasi, who are the last hereditary singers of a great Rajasthani mediaeval poem, Pabuji Ki Phad. The epic is performed in front of a Phad, a long sheet on which scenes depicting the life and adventures of Pabuji, a 14th century hero, are painted (Interestingly, there is a reference to Ramayana here as Pabuji is supposed to have gone to Lanka and stolen camels from Ravana!!!). The Phad is considered a divine manifestation – similar to the image of Gods – and the bhopa is assumed to have healing powers. The tradition of oral story telling is all but forgotten in the world and this remains one of the last few remnants of this art, primarily because these poems had been turned into religious rituals unlike the Iliad and other Western epics, where it remained in an art form only. Dalrymple makes an interesting point noting that oral tradition flourishes in minds which are illiterate. The literate do not have the capacity to remember what the illiterate do making it difficult to sustain this fragile art which may totally disappear in a few years from now.

In The Red Fairy, Dalrymple moves out of India and lands in Sindh where the secular Sufi culture is fighting to keep itself alive, despite constant attacks by the likes of the orthodox Wahhabis, Deobandis and Tablighis. There he meets Lal Peri, a Sufi saint who moves from Bihar to Bangladesh and then Sindh to escape minority persecution. The Sufis believe that the search for God lies within and reject the restrictions of religion, narrowly interpreted by the mullahs. Their usage of music and poetry in their rituals and access to women have angered the fundamentalists funded by Saudis and supported by authoritarian regimes, leading to regular clashes, which Dalrymple likens to the Reformation Movement struggle in Northern Europe in the 16th Century. The essence of the Sufi-Islam conflict is best captured in these lines by Sain Fakir, an 80-year-old pir, who says: “The Sufis are a threat to the mullahs because we command the love, loyalty and faith of the ordinary people. No one is excluded. You can be an outcaste, a fallen woman, and you can come and pray in the shrine and the Sufi will forgive and embrace you.” This conflict also reflects the brewing tensions that are also slowly being a part of the Indian landscape and the victor would dictate the way this sub-continent will move.

The Monk’s Tale, set in Dharamsala, chronicles the life of Tashi Passang, a hermit in Tibet, who is forced to give up his monastic vows and take up arms to kill Chinese soldiers trying to destroy Buddhism in the 1950s. He escapes to India, joins the Indo-Tibetan force and even fights in the 1971 Bangladesh War before he finally quits the Indian Army in 1986 and returns to Dharamsala, to spend his last years atoning for the violence he had committed. Here he makes wooden blocks and prints prayer flags and finally takes up monastic vows and robes 30 years after renouncing them. Passang’s belief in karma is intact ("Tibetan suffering is possibly due to the actions of Tibetans when they invaded and tortured Chinese in the 7th century") and he hopes that the Chinese would eventually embrace Dharma and they would all return to their homeland. It is difficult for us to understand the emotional turmoil that a monk undergoes when he takes up arms and later on even fight as a soldier in an alien war. Passanga's faith in the path of dharma and Ahimsa even after so many years of struggle is remarkable and is an ode to the power of spirituality and religion.

South India, especially Tamil Nadu, is a hub for temples and all kinds of local deities and spirits thrive here, in the midst of all the IT hoopla. The Maker of Idols focuses on Srikanda Stpathy, who lives in Swamimalai, near Thanjavur, and is a 35th generation member of the premier idol-making Brahmin family of India. The family makes the idols with the same style and process as has been followed for all these centuries since the days of the great Cholas. Idol worship may have been riled as a blind form of devotion by many intellectuals but it has withstood all attempts to condemn it and modernization has only helped in getting markets even outside India. Ironically, for all the reverence that Gods are held in the country, many of the images ooze with sensuality and eroticism and unabashedly celebrate the union of Gods, especially Shiva and Parvati - a reminder that shringara rasa is an important form of worship in India. Stpathy, however notes with a twinge of sadness, that his son and nephew are not interested in idol making and wonders what the future of this family tradition is going to be.

The Lady Twilight is based in Tarapith, a popular centre of Tantric Hinduism in West Bengal, where we meet Manisha Ma Bhairavi, a tantric Sadhu who worships the ferocious Goddess Tara and drinks blood from skulls. Tantra is widely associated with superstitious practices and sexuality which is abhorred in most parts of India but for Manisha Ma, it is devotional. She looks at Tara Ma as a benevolent goddess who protects her and fellow tantrics and says that the violent blood thirsty image is just one side of the Ma, who can be both kind and violent, as the situation demands. Tantrics oppose all forms of society conventions, break all taboos (using ganja, alcohol and ritual sex) and encourage people to get in touch with their inner self by controlling the power of kama. One may or may not agree with this perception of religion but it is true that such a philosophy exists amidst closed doors in many parts of India and people flock in large numbers to get their problems resolved through tantrics.

The last story The Song of the Blind Minstrel is again set in Bengal on the banks of Ajoy River. Dalrymple travels to Kenduli near Shantiniketan to see a gathering of Bauls (saffron clad minstrels) who meet every year in January, descending into a cloud of singing and dancing throughout the night. The story unfolds primarily through the eyes of a blind minstrel, Kannai Das Baul, who along with this group, keep walking along in search of inner peace. The Bauls live a wild and abandoned life and believe that God lives in the present moment in the seeker of the truth and each man must find his own way. Rather than lecturing and sermonizing, they woo audiences through poetry and music and ask them to look inwards. They also follow a Tantric tradition and embrace breathing and orgasm in elaborately ritualised sexual rites. It is interesting to note that atheistic and agnostic philosophy is not totally new to Hinduism and the Chavarka school of thought in 6th Century B.C. rejected the idea of God.

It is easy to fall prey to the clichés of “Mystic India” and let one’s prose lose in the wilderness of this country but Dalrymple avoids this trap and gives a non-judgmental account of these lives which seem at odds with the rapid pace that the country is supposed to be taking. The writer, the journalist and the traveller all work in tandem as each subject spells out his/her story and Dalrymple fills in the background facts, the history and provides insights on the various events that mark the landscape of the story, giving it a documentary like feel.

The accounts are engrossing and with the wide variety of facts that Dalrymple puts in at frequent intervals, one can visualize the stories as they unfold. Whether it is the tantric cremation ground, the arid sands of Rajasthan or the crowded temple towns of the South, we are present there and moving along with him as he tries to understand a religion, which is totally different in form and structure from Christianity. He finds it interesting that many of these traditions would probably have been shunned in the West but in India, they are looked at with reverence and the practitioners of these various religious forms co-exist in the society peacefully.

Many of the stories have an exotic Oriental flavour to them but Dalrymple largely succeeds in humanizing these characters and bringing life to these various gateways of life which aim at reaching God. There is Bhakti, Tantra, Sufism, Buddhism and many other schools of thought but he does not preach or act like a modern Indian liberal sitting on judgment - he just observes and looks admiringly at the plurality and heterodoxy of a culture that sustains all these sets of beliefs, without infringing upon each other.

A Twittering Predicament

#Is all that worth it just in hope of making it difficult for a future Headley to recce? R we going 2 allow terrorists 2 make us less welcoming?

# Making it more difficult 2 visit India, return here frequently or stay long hurts large nbrs of innocents, costs us millions of$ & alienates.

These are the 2 tweets by Shashi Tharoor which have been splashed across all channels and newspapers and have generated enough controversy for the man who seems to be in a hurry to usher in an era of e-politics. Did our MoS for External Affairs minister say something that is against public norms or morally wrong? But still Fulbright scholar SM Krishna, an honourable man, felt the need to reprimand his junior while the media has joined hands in gleefully branding Tharoor as irresponsible.

Krishna made his displeasure public saying - “These (issues) are not to be discussed in public. If there are any perceptions, then I think these should be sorted out within the four walls of the ministry; the business of government is far too serious and has to be conducted in a manner in which we decide. The broad policy parameters are dictated, decided by the minister in-charge of external affairs of this country and everyone will have to fall on the same page.''

The Indian government is an archaic piece of machinery which refuses to answer any questions put across it because the public is ill-educated to understand complex matters and it is best left to the buffoons who sit in both the Houses to decide on everything on our behalf (assuming that they decide to turn up at the House and try opening their mouths). But when the State refuses to even divulge the names of the Padma nominees claiming the irrelevance o f this information to the public, you know that you are fishing in deep waters and getting a catch here is going to be difficult. Talking to the public is a blasphemous offence by any standards of public probity defined by the State and the media.

Democracy is a 60+ year old institution in India but the concept remains nascent on many counts. Indian Public Policy is an opaque instrument which, despite numerous amendments, is held so sacrosanct by the polity that any discussion on that is anathema to the State. Everything is kept under the wraps of national security and confidentiality and any challenges to the status quo position of the rules are looked at with contempt. After all, how does the “cattle class” know what is right for it; this is the right assigned to the protectors of democracy by the electorate.

There is also a generational conflict of culture taking place here with the cyber savvy Tharoor talking to netizens directly which is against the functioning of the old school of government. The traditionalists are out of sync with new media and still believe that the best ways to show dissent or call for a debate is by manufacturing leaks and planting stories. The old school is entrenched in the roots of “consensus”, where the High Command proposes as well as disposes and the officials merely carry out orders. A healthy democracy thrives in the presence of dissent and it is time to recognize that public dissent also counts in decision making.

There was a counter argument that the response would be the same if this were a private company and that it is not just the Government which is paranoid when it comes to maintain confidentiality of information. But the difference is in primarily the kind of information that is shared across the table – we are not talking about a company’s pricing strategy but a law which has relevance to all our lives. When it comes to matters of public policy or laws that are public knowledge, what is the rationale of trying to build in a veil of secrecy? Isn’t it a step in the right direction when policy matters get discussed on the net and any form of dissent is well-covered so that public can judge accordingly?

But why is the media propping up the likes of SM Krishna here and targetting Tharoor? When you’d expect them to rally against SM Krishna, the media has tried to act as a partisan referee (read Chris Broad) and stand by the establishment. If Shashi Tharoor had called a press conference and said the same things to journalists, he would be hailed as frank and the law called an ass but now he is irresponsible – the foot-in-the mouth minister who is rocking the boat to show off his technological prowess.

Is it that the likes of Rajdeep Sardesai and Co feel threatened by the fact that by using tweet, Tharoor is directly talking to the public and bypassing the media filters? If sound bytes and “exclusive” stories are available online for everyone to see and understand, then how will the media fabricate grapevine news and flash breaking news? Shashi Tharoor talks directly to half a million people on Twitter and very few newspapers or TV channels have the same reach which is making the media uneasy.

Shashi Tharoor is unfortunately no Rahul Gandhi, whose of pearls of wisdom are scooped up by the party workers and displayed as strings of intellect, and cannot expect anyone in the Congress to stand up for his valid questions. The Grand Old Party is slowly undergoing a transformation but the change is only at the surface level and the definition of inner party democracy is confined by the Lakshman Rekha drawn by Sonia and family. Rahul has publicly railed against the Congress culture earlier and done an excellent job as its top Strategy guy and this would have been an excellent opportunity for him to step forward and stand up for Tharoor but then standing up for lightweights is probably not worth the political rewards.

The Twitterer has ruffled many feathers here but will the Ministry be lost for want of a tweet? Whichever way it goes, all I say is it is nice to have a Minister who talks to the public and we need more of his ilk. Way to go, sir, with a half a million strong twitter base, you have a huge online voice listening to you...

Paleri Manikyam: Oru Pathira Kolapathakathinte Katha

It is 1957 – the year the World’s first democratically elected Communist government, under the leadership of EMS Namboodiripad, is about to take over the governmental reins from the Congress. It is also the year when the first rape case is registered in Kerala – Manikyam, a poor low caste girl, is brutally raped and murdered in a small village called Paleri in North Kerala. The investigation into this crime, 52 years later, forms the crux of this intricately executed movie, directed by Renjith, based on T P Rajeevan’s novel of the same name. This is Renjith’s most ambitious and mature work so far and is undoubtedly among the best movies of the year.

Manikyam (Mythili) was the bride of the village idiot Pokkan, the son of one of Paleri’s once-most desired women, Cheeru (Shwetha Menon). The morning after the whole village leaves to see a new drama in the town and Pokkan leaves along with a magician to perform some rituals, Manikyam is found dead in Cheeru’s house.

There is a police investigation but the accused are let off scot-free by a local court, even though the public by and large thinks that the rich landlord Murikkumkunnath Ahmed Haji (Mammootty again) is behind the murder. A private detective Haridas (Mammooty), accompanied by a crime analyst Sarayu (Gowri Munjal), land in Paleri after 52 years to investigate this case but the intent of the team to get involved with this case after so many years is indeed puzzling till we reach mid-stream, when the story introduces a personal angle (a deviation from the novel).

But Paleri Manikyam is not an investigative thriller in the true sense and if you are expecting a CBI Dairy story or even something like Pavithran’s Utharam, you would be grossly mistaken. There is a scene in the movie when a veteran Communist worker asks Haridas the relevance of such an investigation after 50 long years when none of the main players of the drama are alive and Haridas says that this could be an investigation either out of curiosity or possibly a look at the conditions of the period in Malabar when such a story happened and learning from it. (In an interesting conversation when his companion Sarayu says that this is somebody’s life and not a story, Hari replies that after death, everyone’s life is just a story – so relevant to our times). The intent is clearly not a who-dun-it mystery but a slow and steady permeation into the event and it definitely satisfies the viewer who is willing to wait and watch as the story unravels.

The movie follows a complex narrative where the story moves back and forth through the eyes of its various characters. Haridas narrates most of the events and moves along with the various characters in the movie which gives it a quasi-documentary feel at times. A scene which truly conveys the beauty of the narrative is when on one side of the frame we see Manikyam along with her husband coming to the village on a boat after her marriage, on the other side we see her corpse being taken away in a boat, with the narrator standing on the shore in the middle, and making a comment! There is an almost Rashomon like effect we witness as each character presents his own version of the story and we are left wondering where the truth lies. Such narration techniques have not been attempted in mainstream Malayalam cinema and Renjith pulls it off with aplomb.

Paleri Manikyam is set in rural North Kerala in the late 1950s and Renjith, along with Manoj Pillai (the cinematographer), takes us into this world and it is a fascinating effort. Capturing Kerala on canvas is a cake walk for any cinematographer but Renjith uses the backdrop itself acts as a character in the plot, with a mixture of colours which add to the intrigue surrounding the town. The music by Sarath and Bijbal also does not vie too much attention and percolates the background surely but certainly.

The political upheavals of the period also necessitate the role of petty politics in the drama. Barber Keshavan (Srinivasan) is a grassroots communist worker (the conscience of the village as Haridas refers to him) who believes in class struggle and refuses to work on the day EMS is sworn in but he is eventually dismayed to see the party succumbing to the elite, against whom they had battled. In his own words, he is neither a believer nor a communist – just a mere hairdresser. It is his disillusionment with the Party which leads him to provide the valuable inputs that help in piecing together the story.

K P Hamsa (veteran screenwriter T Damodaran), on the other hand, is a pragmatic Communist leader who realizes that the movement needs the support of the rich and is willing to compromise a few things for what he believes is the greater good. While the movie points a finger at the party for its rule in the cover up, you also realize that there was no personal benefit that was intended and was purely for the growth of the party (a rarity by today’s standards). He knows that a classless society is utopia and that the oppressed needs the oppressor to sustain the movement, so the marriage between the bourgeoisie and the Party to suppress the death of a poor girl, who nobody cares for her.

The police investigation in the late 50s was clearly more primitive when compared to today, which meant that the importance of circumstantial evidence and testimony was much higher, in the absence of technological support. Manikyam’s body is carried in jute mats across the river by boat on an overnight journey to Vadakara for post-mortem which exposed the body to further deterioration and could possibly endanger the evidence. The judiciary had to also contend with the fact that this was the first such case before them but we do not know whether the complexity of a rape case was understood at that time.

One weak link in the story is the relevance of the sub-plot involving Haridas and his girlfriend. Sarayu has a broken relationship with her husband, while Haridas has a faithful unsuspecting wife and a pleasant family life, but still he desires his colleague (he interestingly draws a parallel with Ahmed Haji for a similar failing) but this thread is not developed enough for us to draw any form of parallel with the main track.

Maybe if the film moved along interspersed with a few subtle hints regarding their relationship or his family troubles, it could have had a greater impact; otherwise, Haridas simply doing the investigation himself would also have sufficed, unless the lady character added something extra in the plot. Of course, the fact that the actress playing Sarayu also seemed a bit lost at times does not help the cause.

The other area which could possibly have a greater flourish would be the climax - it could have been more underplayed possibly or maybe even skipped because it did seem a tad artificial (especially by the movie's standards). The novel merely mentions Ahmed Haji’s son but the film goes further and builds a climax on the basis of this man, who makes a late entry. I do not want to add any spoilers here but it would be sufficient to say that even without this contrivance, the movie would have worked.

The movie boasts of an interesting cast – a lot of non-professionals were selected by Renjith to play various important roles in the movie after conducting an extensive workshop. This actually helps in giving it a more authentic feel and ensuring that we are not swayed by their usual appearances. The S K Pallipuram character who is the architect of the drama on the night of the rape is a small but interesting character; he also provides Haridas with a missing official report which helps in linking a few vital cogs. He represents the liberal who lies in his drunken arrogant stupor, who wields a great deal of influence by virtue of the might of his words but is too lost in his own world, under the influence of alcohol, to make a difference to the society – eventually becoming a mere pawn in the hands of the powerful.

While most of the actors are adequate (except Gowri Munjal), the pick of the cast are Mammooty and Shwetha Menon. Shwetha is at ease while exuding oomph as well as pathos as the older forsaken mistress of the Haji and is slowly emerging as an actress to watch for in the Kerala film horizon. Mammooty’s performance as Ahmed Haji is stellar and though the character is one-dimensional, it is played to perfection and is definitely a memorable performance (Kamal’s take on this role would be another caricature with more emphasis on the physical self).

My last four movies have been Bhramaram, Kerala Cafe, Loud Speaker and now Paleri Manikyam and if this is any evidence of Malayalam cinema slowly emerging out of its worst phase, then we are definitely in for exciting times. Renjith has once again shown (after Thirakatha and Kaiyoppu) that he is an exciting talent and the new generation (with the likes of Lal Jose, Renjith Shankar and others) is ready to revive the lost art called Malayalam cinema.