By Richa Bansal who sent me this short and introspective piece on a difficult day when life revealed itself as beautiful….
I have always run a race with myself. Right from childhood. With due rewards of course in terms of career success and associated benefits. But not without its cost. The biggest one being I forgot what it meant to slow down, even if for a few moments.
Until today, when a severe back spasm and a hearty scolding from my physiotherapist placed me under ‘house arrest’ for five straight days with strict instructions of ‘no going to office’, ‘no alcohol over the weekend’, and ‘no exercise (for two weeks!)’. Clubbed with daily physiotherapy and muscle relaxants I didn’t particularly relish. In short, I had to rest it out and there was no shortcut.
I was appalled! Having been trained as a journalist in my formative years, I am used to finding my way out of sticky situations and often enough having my way. This time I had to comply. Not so much because I wanted to but because the pain was too much to bear.
I am used to being super active. If not working, I am doing high intensity exercise (my room has most of the basic equipment of a gym), or making an errands list (a must when you live alone), or catching up on news, or having a whatsapp/skype call with friends abroad, or compulsively responding to emails at night.
Yes, I meditate for a few minutes in the morning, but after that it is non-stop. I didn’t realise or value the importance of stopping in the tracks to appreciate the moment – be it the rain, a walk in the park, or watching the twilight hues. Even if I ever did, being an obsessive planner cum organiser, some list would be constantly running in the background in my head.
Naturally, as I trudged back home, I was grouchy about how I was going to get through five full days of rest. As I was planning all that I had to reschedule, my back creaked again, and a book I recently purchased called ‘Present over Perfect’ flashed across my mind.
I suppose it is not a coincidence that in the last 10 days, I watched Shauna Niequist talk about her book on Oprah Winfrey’s show, where she spoke about how she used to ‘skim’ through life and then decided one day to slow down. Not give up. But re-craft her life. Deconstruct it and decide what to retain and what to let go in order to improve the quality of her life. I was inspired enough to buy the book off Amazon but hadn’t yet opened it.
Walking up the stairs, I noticed that the weather had suddenly changed, and the sun was about to set. It was twilight. I didn’t want to lie down again, so I decided to go up to my terrace, which is surrounded by greenery and stroll a bit. Since I was not meant to even walk fast right now.
And as I stood there barefoot, with a cool breeze flowing through my hair, an overcast grey sky with shades of pink and orange, the leaves of the plants on the parapet swaying slightly, the white flowers gleaming, a salty smell in the air which precedes rain, and birds flying home – I calmed down. I was present in that moment, not thinking about anything else, not worrying about what needed to be done, but simply taking in the twilight.
Twilight has always been particularly calming for me – there is something about the stillness of that transition zone, which I find mystical. Somewhat of a parallel to life – so much of which is in flux.
I used to go for evening walks by the lake near which I grew up in Calcutta all throughout my growing up years and often watch the sun set over the water – the solitude was blissful. And I realised suddenly how much I missed it. A few moments of solitude, not once in a while, but throughout the day are essential.
And in that moment, I decided that I was going to enjoy this forced ‘house arrest’. I was going to go up every day to my wonderful terrace for the next four days to soak in the twilight. I plucked a white flower, came down, placed it on my altar (yes, I pray) and said thank you. And messaged my physiotherapist thanking her for forcing me to slow down. Her response – ‘Great. One should take such breaks without pain ;)’!
In the face of disaster, active citizens are already filling the governance gap; let’s upscale this now!
Owing to an attempted shift to more academic writing and partly in reaction to the few friends who haven’t been too thrilled with my use of this platform to rant, my posts over the past year have been fewer and less about opinion and more about experience. However, what’s the use of nurturing a blog of your own if you cannot occasionally rant!
My peeve today is, unsurprisingly, the flooding many cities across the world are experiencing and the general unpreparedness we have seen in dealing with them. Experts have attributed the higher incidents of flooding to changing patterns of precipitation (in the form of storms, rain, typhoons, cyclones), both in terms of the amount and the timing. Whether or not we link this to climate change, to me, is a moot point right now as we stare at mass destruction and anguish in Houston, eastern India, Nepal, Bangladesh and Mumbai.
Reports pour in from friends in Houston, those evacuated worry about their homes, while those who are hunkering down currently safe are concerned about rising waters, survival with limited supplies and to what extent they can help others in distress. While attacks mount on the administration for not heeding warning systems and anticipating the scale of disaster, the focus is on rescue and prevention of further damage, as it should be. In Mumbai too, friends host strangers who are stranded in the vicinity, others despair and curse, life comes to a standstill and the government is unable to answer questions about the absence of warnings and alerts. In both cases, local government did not admit guilt; Houston’s officials have defended their decision to not evacuate ahead of Huricane Harvey, while in Mumbai the government did too little too late. That both cities have had previous experiences with flooding makes this even more unpalatable.
Some of the bad press for Houston is also stemming from its infamous no zoning and limitless growth stance (see here and here), and therein lies an obvious comparison with cities in India where urban sprawl and massive unregulated growth are undeniable realities. In India, this was driven home to us post the December 2015 floods in Chennai (see urban expert KT Ravindran’s piece here); and now, the idea that these disasters are not just nature but considerably exacerbated by human folly has been firmly established. Even as India banks on its cities to become ‘engines of growth’ and economic powerhouses, this dream is seriously challenged by its inability to plan and manage urbanization even in an everyday sense, leave alone in the face of a disaster!
A discussion on how this might be fixed is a long one but I will leave that for another time. For now, I’d like to dwell on how it is not enough to blame the government and the system. We must go beyond this to ask pointed questions and hold them accountable in specific ways. For instance, by displaying maps of floodplains and flood levels juxtaposed with built form, we can demonstrate how the State has disregarded basic environmental logic in its plans. While doing fieldwork in Gurgaon’s urban villages recently, for instance, I recorded vivid accounts from locals about how natural drains and ponds (johads) were covered over by government officials in order to built community centres and roads! These oral histories combined with GIS mapping and government data obtained through RTIs can clearly demonstrate the flaws in planning. But if this evidence remains confined to academic journals and limited circles of activism, it cannot create the pressure needed to prevent more of the same from continuing to happen!
This means that we as citizens need to engage with issues related to development and the environment. We need to move towards active citizenship. I can think of many ways to include citizen oversight over processes of planning and development, but the dream of participatory governance can only come true if we engage pro-actively without first waiting for the government to set up the processes for that engagement. For starters, we can educate ourselves about governance processes in our cities, about issues we face and about the environmental status of our communities, we can organize training sessions to empower citizens to manage disaster relief operations, we can ensure our communities follow laws on waste segregation and disposal, accessibility and water harvesting…..the list of actions we can take is endless and many of us have made commendable beginnings already. Those beginnings need to coalesce into movements that force governments to act!
Beyond this, we need to turn our gaze inward to reflect on how we are part of the problem here. After all, we are the consumers that sprawling development projects and mega infrastructure projects are catering to! We have bought into that ideology (and the imagery) of unlimited growth and ‘world class’ development. Rarely did we think about the environmental consequences of our consumption, rarely did we support those who did voice these concerns. Today, when we shout ourselves hoarse about the failures, we too need to feel a sense of responsibility. The world over, the mantra of sustainable development has focused on the first principle of REDUCE. Of course, this is directly in conflict with capitalistic urges to consume more, but we do need to question where consumption is taking us. We need to ask: Can we become responsible consumers?
These are no longer mere ideological questions, but matters of utmost urgency for citizens living in an age of urbanization, rapid environmental deterioration and yes, climate change! It is no longer enough to encourage our kids to submit cute ‘Save our Planet’ posters to local art contests and consider our jobs done. In an age of paralyzed governance, the citizen must step in to fill the gaps.
My three week stint in Paris draws to an end tomorrow. It’s been a work trip peppered with lots of outings with family, though they did way more sight seeing and touristy activities than me. That’s what they have been here for. As for me, I have thoroughly enjoyed having solo time at work. This is a luxury in India, where the work place is a juggling act involving much more than the core components of research like fieldwork, analysis, reading and writing. Much time is spent in project and team management and in attending meetings and conferences too. I enjoy all that buzz as well, so carving out time for more solitary kind of work has been very challenging indeed!
Here in Paris, the work environment has been conducive for solo activity, though I share an office space with two other researchers, both senior to me from whom I am learning a lot through observation and everyday conversations. The solitude has helped me increase my concentration span and somewhat improve my ability to schedule work more realistically. It has also taught me the value of reading beyond my subject, something I have wanted to do for a long time. The importance of embarking on a PhD at this stage in life has come home to me as well, as I interact with academic researchers at various stages of their careers.
For the most part, I find my colleagues here immensely focused and dedicated to their own sliver of research (though not in a restrictive way). PhD students and scholars working on remote Asian and African nations have spent years teaching themselves new languages, delving deep into understanding the cultural traditions and political economy of faraway lands as well as spending vast amounts of time physically experiencing these geographies and cultures. As a relatively new entrant to social science research, I realize my training as an urban planner somewhat limits my attitudes because I tend to focus on solution-oriented approaches without adequately steeping myself in the context. This is a drawback I am determined to address going forward.
Being outside my comfort zone and a change of scenario also helps me reflect on myself in other, more personal ways. My time here has strengthened by belief that life must be a delicate balance of self-confidence and humility. The former in the sense that I imbibe the importance of being myself, not judging myself too harshly, not overthinking everyday decisions and certainly not worrying about appearances or what other folks think of you! This has been a work in progress for the last few years and its got a fillip here in Paris. Humility in the sense of being open to new ideas, really listening through when other people talk, opening out the senses without judgement and leaving the ‘I’ out of as much a possible. To be honest, I have not progressed as much in this because temperamentally I am the talker/do-er/impression-maker type. Stepping back and toning down when I need to is something I am aware of but have not been able to practice as well.
All in all, these reflections form the base for my second stint here in September this year. I will be unaccompanied by family or friends then and will be living alone for a month for perhaps the first time in my life (yes, believe it or not!). During that trip, I intend to catch up on the missed out parts of tourism, the alternate experiences in Paris and also work much more on my journey towards serious and focused research.
If you are disturbed about the series of mob-driven lynchings occurring across India, you are not alone. Thousands of Indians were out on the street last evening in at least 12 Indian cities and a few international locations to express their dismay and protest. The tagline used #NotInMyName is telling. It disowns the type of Indian who would use violence to settle a debate or an argument. It rejects the form of Hinduism that bases itself on hatred and the ‘othering’ of minorities. With my largely liberal upbringing, one that included the usual ingredients of everyday Hinduism (ritualism, temple visits, certain food practices), I find it normal that people would be nauseated by the normalization of violence and the senseless killing we are seeing around us. I feel this too when women are raped, when soldiers are killed by terrorists, when old people are mistreated, when children are sexually violated by their family members and beaten inside classrooms by teachers who are meant to be their gurus and mentors…….
I do not think my views are ‘leftist’ because I feel this way. No, if anything, they are humanist regardless of the political hue you wish to read inside them. They stem from the belief that certain things are essential rights: the right to dignity and a peaceful existence, the right to a life mediated by the use of peaceful means of dispute resolution, the right to self-improvement and growth (and everything that comes with that including opportunities for education, skill attainment, decent work and quality of life). At a basic level, I would be surprised if most of us didn’t agree to these ideas. Would we not want this for ourselves, for our children? By that logic, if we believe that humans are born equal, we should want it for everyone else, and their children too. I know this is idealistic and I know that many people do not believe in fundamental equality. But that’s bigotry; whatever the form may take (race, religion, cultural values, ethnicity, language, complexion, caste, what-have-you) and I will take every opportunity to stand against bigotry, without any apologies whatsoever.
Yes, I know, things are not black and white. We seem determined to disagree about everything. We are debating on nomenclature (Is this lynching or something else?), we are pulling statistics to determine trends over time (Is this a new phenomenon at all?) and we are debating the political and religious hue of protests against it (Are these leftists? Are the protesting Hindus truly Hindu?). That is the nature of politics. Shivam Vij makes a point about the ineffectiveness of such protests as a political tool to oppose the right wing (read here) and he may be right. From what I can observe from far away, this is an expression of dismay and frustration reminiscent of the post-Nirbhaya protests. I would not consider it insignificant.
However, two features defined the post-Nirbhaya protests. One, they gave expression to a very personal sense of fear, one in which each family felt like they could be a victim of the type of violence Jyoti had faced. That is not yet palpable at this time, because Hindus believe themselves to be immune. This is a fallacy. No one is immune once the rule of law ceases to have respect. Two, a long standing gender movement existed in India and activists could leverage post-Nirbhaya public support to push forward an agenda that worked towards women’s safety. Of course it is debatable whether the outcomes have truly questioned patriarchal norms or merely resulted in increased restrictions on the movement of girls and women, but policy conversation around public safety in terms of security, transportation and infrastructure has certainly increased. The number of women reporting sexual crimes has also gone up. So there have been tangible benefits. With current protests, there appears to be no clear leadership that can help build the momentum, but it is possible that one could emerge. For me, these appear as opportunities for feminist and youth-centred political discourses, but we do not have something strong enough to resist appropriation by mainstream political movements yet.
Having said this, it will be tragic if these beginnings are not taken forward in some way. First, we need to oppose those trying hard to brush away these murmurs as insignificant by painting them in broad-brush strokes like anti-Modi, anti-elite (read here). I don’t think the protestors are such a united, clear set of people yet (and that might be a strength in disguise). We also need to focus on the disintegration of the rule of law, which threatens everyone and not just a certain minority or those with particular dietary preferences. I’m not sure this is a policing issue as one commentator suggests (read here); are we to be a society in which folks are civil only because they fear punitive action?
In the end, it is about agreeing to what exactly is the ‘social contract’ that we commonly understand and practice. What is that voluntary agreement among individuals by which organized society is brought into being and invested with the right to secure mutual protection and welfare or to regulate the relations among its members? I’ve been in Paris the past few weeks and have had many passionate discussions on these issues with folks here; given France’s history, these issues have been a matter of intense and prolonged public debate and there is a common understanding of what is acceptable and what is not. I am not sure if in India we have invested adequate time and energy discussing this at all. Yes, the Constitution has served as a template for us, but how many Indians really have had adequate exposure to this most wonderful document. If movements to protest against lawlessness are to gain traction, they need to appropriate that space in which these discussions can happen, without violence or judgement.
The weather changed yesterday morning, turning cool, even a bit chilly. And a brisk walk seemed like just the right thing to do. I walked a section of my tram ride to the University today, from Port Choissee to Maries Bastie on Rue Massena, in the 13th Arrondisement of the city. This is not a neighbourhood that the tourist books and blogs write about but it’s bustling nevertheless. It’s clearly an area where many immigrants have settled, especially Asians. Vietnamese and Laotian restaurants line the streets.
There’s plenty of relatively new high rise affordable and mid-income housing that has come up in this area, amid what look like older mid sized blocks. Mostly these blocks emerge right off the street, with the ground level space accommodating shops, supermarkets and parking garages. Now and then I see what look like gated enclaves, some with nice little gardens inside. But I can see all of these from the street. There are no solid boundary walls, only see through fences. Eyes on the street all the way!
It’s a totally walkable area and well connected with public transport like all of Paris. In fact, the tramway runs in the centre, two lanes of motorable road on either side, a lane of parallel on street parking, cycle paths and a wide pavement on both sides. Definitely more square metre area for public transport, cycling and walking than for motorised traffic!
I’ve been watching these sights from the tram the past week but walking down the street today made me realise that these kind of neighbourhoods are an excellent case study for how modern redevelopment projects can build on the positive aspects of traditional cities by retaining and even enhancing public facilities like public space, schools, markets and sports grounds. In this way, the neighbourhood can cater to additional densities and remain efficient and compact, improving life for the able bodied and differently abled, young and old. The sheer diversity of people I encounter everyday while riding public transport speaks to this.
Please don’t forget to watch the accompanying video on FB which shows boundary details of the apartment blocks and how they relate to the street. Link below
Last evening on the longest day of 2017, I met the kids and mums on the banks of the Seine where they had been lounging for a while. We were facing the tip of the Ile Saint-Louis, the smaller of the two islands that are amidst the Seine in the centre of Paris. The idea was to make our way through the streets catching what we could of the citywide festival of music, where performances both organised and impromptu were to be the order of the day.
We started ambling down Rue St Paul past sun kissed facades. Turning left on Rue Saint Antoine, the mothers were ensnared by an eager fruit seller while the kids and me dove into the less conspicuous but absolutely breathtaking Church of St Paul St Louis. It was cool inside the church, a welcome respite from the sweaty heat outside. Aadyaa was thrilled to be able to light another candle at yet another church, her latest fixation as we explore Paris.
The Rue Sevigne frames the facade of the church beautifully. I caught this frame as I turned back to make sure Udai was behind me. There he is to the right of the frame cooling himself in front of one of the ventilation ducts (yes, we are amid a heat wave here)! The street also has some delightful shops with lovely and enticing facades. I was reminded of Ho Chi Minh City where I fell in love with the shops decor. I’m wondering if it was the Parisian influence or the other way around!!
Turning left onto Rue des Franc Bourgeois we saw a string of heritage buildings, many of them hotels. This area is within the Marais, where the epicentre of 17th century Parisian society was during the time of Henry IV. One can only imagine how the hotels, designed in classical style with front courtyards and back gardens, were at the heart of aristocratic life in those times!
The Musee Caranavalet is at the corner and a few others including the delightful little Jardin de l’hotel Lamoignon that popped up to our left. We had begun to see signages inviting us into various buildings hosting the Fete de la Musique. The EDM sounds streaming from the Uniqlo premises perked Udai up a bit, but my expression must have told him how enthusiastic I am about that genre of music. So we walked on.
Amidst the beautiful framed entrances and detailed stone masonry, we found another treasure, the Notre-Dame des Blancs-Manteaux. A sanctuary dedicated to the Virgin Mary, there has been a church in existence here since 1258 though the present structure is more recent (1685). We sat inside absorbing the calmness and spirituality of the space. And just as we were leaving, the priest broke into the most melodious Latin incantations I have heard. Much credit, of course, to the acoustics of the church!
Our first musical encounter as part of the Fete was inside the premises of the Credit Municipal de Paris. A swing quartet if you please! Delightfully balanced and with strong vocals, this was a pleasure especially because of the scale of the little courtyard that made it an intimate experience. Watch the dancing and you’ll know what it felt like. Aadyaa and me joined in too briefly!
Next we heard young talent inside the historic premises of the Archives Nationales which used to be the Hotel de Rohan, one of the many 18th century mansions in Marais that used to belong to the Strasbourg bishops. Post the revolution, the building became the French government’s printing press and then the archives. The open to public courtyard was impressive as were the few performances we took in, featuring instrumental ensembles as well as opera singing!!
Our walk back to the Chatelet Metro comprised a pit stop to grab a drink and some dessert, a few more glimpses of interesting monuments framed by these historic streets (see the Tower of St Jacques below) and then we navigated our way through the growing crowds, hordes of people enjoying the fete, a giant outdoor party!!
Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. We saw this in action last year when the “masterstroke” of demonetisation announced by the Government of India on 8 Nov 2016 left India in shock. Journalists, academicians and industry experts, reacted with a flurry of writing taking diverse stands. A google search on ‘demonetisation India’ yields over a million results! These reactions ranged from open support, complete disdain, reportage on the misery citizens were facing, advice on how it could have been done better to optimistic pieces about how this could leverage long-standing change towards digitization, formalization and efficiency.
Over time, though, commentary on notebandi has become an entry point to discuss a large variety of problems and issues related with India’s economy. It is a testimony to how profound the impact of demonetization has been on Indian consciousness that months after it happened, we are still passionately analyzing it. Commentators are still writing about it, often continuing to use their analysis and arguments to support the exercise or reiterate its failure. Some, like Swaraj Editor R Jagannath have even dramatically changed their opinions, making for some unexpected media drama.
Others have used demonetisation as an entry point to delve deeper into questions that were already part of their frame of enquiry. At the Centre for Policy Research, for instance, we revisited old field sites across Delhi to understand how informal sector workers were coping . Qualitative research that sought to understand how informal sector workers coped with the absence of cash revealed to us linkages that were less obvious before. For instance, the impact of the supply chain on the livelihood of a small time grocer, was not something we had foregrounded in our studies on work and labour before. Neither had we dwelt on the strategy of migrant workers to switch from one type of work to another in order to survive in the city. [Hear our podcast and read op-eds on cash dependence and migration]. The results of a post-demonetisation survey of slum households in Mumbai published in January 2018 by Deepa Krishan and Stephan Seigel revealed a drop in income and consumption, yet showed overall support of the policy. This enquiry also appears to take forward the long-term interests of the authors in urban poverty and social issues in one case, and private savings and investments for the other.
To me, demonetisation has been useful to galvanize debate on three key interlinked issues, which I attempt to list here:
Invisibility of the informal economy: Beyond the immediate alarm bells that went out regarding the disproportionate distress the note ban caused to the informal economy basis anecdotal and prima facie evidence, the government’s report of 7% GDP growth over Nov-Dec 2016 and unchanged GDP forecasts rekindled debated about how the informal economy is measured by the Central Statistical Office while estimating the GDP of the country. This debate was particularly vibrant because the CSO had changed GDP estimation methods in 2015; ostensibly the new methods are better equipped to capture the informal economy. In retrospect it seems that the data machinery is simply not equipped to cater for a sever economic shock like demonetisation. As Kumar and Verma point out in their recent EPW piece on remonetisation:
“The impact on the unorganised sector does not show in the official data on the growth rate of the economy. This is because the methodology used by the government’s statistical organisation to measure the contribution of the unorganised sector to gross domestic product (GDP) is not valid when a big shock, like, demonetisation, is delivered to the economy. Hence government pronouncements on the economy’s rate of growth do not capture its true decline.
In brief, the unorganised sector of the economy employing 93% of the workforce remains hidden behind a veil by the GDP data and the monetary data. This can only be uncovered by alternative calculations. This is not just an economic matter but also a political and social one (emphases mine).”
Beyond the urgent need for “alternative calculations”, I would day there is also a need to understand deeply the linkages between the formal and informal economy. We should understand if informality is a choice at all and what forms of formalization, if at all, will benefit the majority of Indians. These are tough questions and will demand intricate answers.
The role of cash in the economy: Post demonetisation commentary yielded a rich discussion on the importance of eliminating cash and the benefits of digital payment systems, from tax collection and speedier transactions to hitting terrorism and other illegal networks. The cash ban was seen by some commentators as part of a global offensive against cash. Indeed, the note ban did boost the idea of digital transactions and sent fintech companies into a tizzy, though a spike in the actual figures is debatable. On the other hand, bank data also showed that cash was being withdrawn upto pre-demonetisation levels as early as March 2017. All in all, this transition will need a more sustained effort hinging on improved connectivity infrastructure, improved security and much more awareness.
It will also need a curious approach to implementing taxation rules. Many of those in the informal economy are insecure after notebandi. Landlords and small-time entrepreneurs in urban villages that we have interviewed recently, for instance, have brought up notebandi in nearly every conversation, with no instigation from our researchers. The context has almost always been a sense that the government is looking more closely at defaulters. People seem to feel that they need to comply with the system, own PAN numbers and file tax returns, for the government to leave them alone. Whether they intend to do this to truly fall in line or to do the bare minimum and find innovative ways to scout the rules is another matter!
We have to acknowledge that cash transactions and informality are deeply ingrained; unless digital is significantly cheaper and hassle-free it will likely be slow to take off. More importantly, the fuzziness around informality and the reading that informal is likely also illegal needs to be deeply understood. Scholars have written extensively about how, in practice, the rule of law in India is riddled with exceptions. Demonetisation and the subsequent efforts towards formalisation could be a unique opportunity to study how the average Indian’s perception and practice of the rule of law is changing at this time.
The jobs debate: The role of the cash crunch following notebandi has been a recurrent theme in the reportage and analysis on the recent farmer protests in Madhya Pradesh and Maharashtra. However, the real problem of agriculture is that too many people depend on it (R Jagannath calls it the farm crisis a jobs crisis in disguise) . There simply aren’t enough decent non-farm jobs going around! Demonetisation has opened the Pandora’s box on the jobs crisis. Of course, this has been an anti-Modi political scoring point by many, but the failure to create jobs for India’s has been an enduring problem that needs both immediate and long-term solutions.
The answers lie in busting a few myths around urbanisation, migration and urban-rural links, perhaps too many to list here. But I will try to encapsulate my thoughts on this. One, the majority of job seekers criss-cross between rural and urban locations in pursuit of work; a migrant-friendly view of urban development would help match jobs, skills and labour while leveraging improved connectivity to develop rural production centres is an important strategy too. The role of small towns is key in this. Two, and following from the above, rural and urban are not distinct spaces in the Indian geography. In reality, the boundaries are blurred. Dense villages and sparsely populated cities, megapolises and remote rural settings all have their place. So a place-based and spatial approach to planning for jobs—and related infrastructure, skill development, housing and amenities—is absolutely key.
So 2017 is the year of discovering Paris for me. Sometimes stuff you never even dreamt of comes true. I’ve spent the last couple of months steeped in logistics for this stint here, chiefly to manoeuvre things so the family could join me for some time, but without actually thinking about what it would be like. Delayed gratification, have you heard of it?
When we actually got here, it’s in the middle of a heat wave. It’s like we brought the bad weather with us from Delhi. Ever tried 37 degrees without ACS and fans?
I’ve been at work during the day, in a stifling office with the nicest people wading through literature as part of a research stay. In the evenings, I’ve tried to join the mums and kids as they explore the city. Museums in the heat is the mantra they are loosely following, spending the mornings in our rental apartment and dashing into a museum in the hot afternoon.
Yesterday I met them outside the Musee Rodin and we walked around the area, ending up in the courtyard of les Invalides, which houses the Military Museum. In this beautifully proportioned space, Aadyaa was inspired to sketch and Udai conjured up fantasies about cannon balls, fire and destruction. The walk across the vast lawns towards the Seine felt good, with the cool grass under our feet and the winds beginning to blow.
We ambled pointlessly wondering where to eat. Food was very much on the mind of the young man, who can be super fussy and was likely imagining a proper Parisian meal. Down the steps right next to Seine, the city was settling into a long evening of fun and partying. On a whim, we ordered burgers and joined the picnic. What bliss to sit dangling our feet over the lovely Seine watching the world go by, hearing laughter and conversation and sharing a hearty meal. Doesn’t Aadyaa’s expression say it all?
Everything is political in India right now. Simple pleasures are tinged with the political. Conversations, amplified and intermingled with digital social interactions, are no longer linear but imbued with multiple meanings. For instance, I befriend someone I nod at on my regular evening walks. I think this person is nice. We become Facebook friends. On FB, I find this personal has a radically opposing political stand than mine. Our evening conversations become strained. I am no longer able to separate the political from the personal. I’m suspicious about a (probably) innocent comment by the said friend about her house help’s ethnicity, for instance. I’m questioning her motivations even as I nod and listen to her. Mentally, I’m wondering if I should change my walking routine!
I’m sure this has happened to many of my friends in India. This inability to separate what used to be separate worlds for many of us middle class folks has brought an element of stress into everyday life.
This is to be expected. The spectacular rise of the BJP on the back of Modi’s popularity is rewriting the script for how we live our lives. The political thinking of our parents’ generation was dominated by post-Independence thinking and the enormous footprint of the Congress party (whether they were supporters or opposers). Young folks today are looking for change and novelty. They are accepting that the BJP is here to stay and falling in line with its new script.
For folks like me, in their 40s with a political sensibility that is part-old and part-recent, these are confusing times. Personally, I am well aware of the dangers of echo chambers. As a researcher, the easy trap of preaching to the converted is something we discuss all the time. I am used to analyzing my own speech, writing, behaviour and I put everything under the scanner.
Even so, I am deeply uncomfortable about this point we seem to have reached, when facts are junked almost entirely and we seem consumed by the political narrative. We forget that it is change driven by evidence that will eventually drive policy, innovation and investment, the factors we need to evolve, become economically stronger and deliver a better life for India’s people.
As Kaushik Basu points out in his recent piece Look at the facts of demonetisation, Modi’s ‘master stroke’ is a perfect example of a move that has been a total failure in its own stated objectives, but yet touted repeatedly as a success by a political establishment that seems to have simply erased the word failure from its vocabulary. I would be perfectly ok if they said something like: We tried our best. It did not work out as planned. I would be happy to admire the immense boldness of the move if the analysis of its outcomes were honest.
But the politics of today does not allow me to take a nuanced position. It does not allow me to be neutral if I am not also silent. For example, the critique of demonetisation offered by my colleagues and me (read our two opinion pieces here and here and listen to our podcast here), for instance, was read by several as anti-Modi anti-BJP rather than an honest analysis of what we observed in our research. Those who engaged with the content were rarely our critics, but there were many who judged us by the titles of what we wrote. There were those who refused to engage, insisting on slotting us into a particular narrow political spectrum.
Why is it that we have become so averse to complexity? Why does everything now have to be black or white, yes or no, aar ya paar? For a nation full of fence sitters, why is being politically non-aligned, or simply cautious, now a cardinal sin?