Ghalib Guru and the Media Circus

Should the son of a man considered a terrorist be feted for scoring 95 per cent marks and topping the 10th board exams? 

Afzal Guru is now legend. He was hanged to death for his supposed role in the 2001 Parliament attack. He was an educated man. His son Ghalib, named after the poet, seems to be academically inclined too. He is now in the news. Mainstream newspapers are doing profiles on him. Are they, in the process, already profiling him as the heir? 

This is my concern. It is not in the same league as sensationalists glorifying a criminal for copy. In this case, the young man is being pinned against a wall on which they've already stuck his father's posters. It is not Ghalib the media is interested in, but the ghost of Afzal Guru.

Probably the worst line of questioning came from The Times of India. Sagarika Ghose starts with these words:

"The Pathankot attackers said they wanted revenge for the hanging of Afzal Guru; and in the Kashmir valley, Afzal Guru's "martyrdom" has becoming a rallying cry in the valley. But Afzal Guru's 17-year-old son Ghalib Abdul Guru says he has nothing to do with the azaadi (freedom) sentiment and wants to become a doctor and study at AIIMS."

This is such a cheap shot. By including the recent attacks in Pathankot, the interviewer is updating Ghalib's profile. There are many doctors, who have studied at prime institutes, who continue to believe in azaadi. The two are not at odds. 

The interrogation is sneaky with the subject being given key queries from which there is no escape. Since this is not a Q&A format, the inquisitor can get away. 

Ghalib is indirectly quoted as saying he wanted to get an MBBS "just like his dad" (interviewer's words). This is followed with:

"I used to meet dad in prison. The Crime Patrol told me he had done something bad and had hurt some people that's why he was in jail. When I met him he used to tell me to study hard all the time and do well at my studies, to look after my mother and read the Quran."

Isn't it clear what is going on here? The boy is being prodded to talk about his father. This guy is happy with his marks and a journalist goes on hammering him not about aspirations and how the young in Kashmir think, but about Afzal Guru. 

What are his memories of his father? "I don't remember him very well. All I remember is he used to always stay with his books, always reading and studying. He used to tell me to do the same. He used to say everything is in the hands of the Almighty. Whatever is written in your naseeb (fate), that's what will happen."

This gives Ms. Ghose another chance to pounce with, "So is Ghalib also religious?" Not "is Ghalib religious?" but "also religious". Like his father, like the man who he seems to be following, from medical practice to the Quran? This is what the media likes to build up. 

When he says, "I want to work in Kashmir because there is a shortage of doctors here. I wanted to also join the IAS, but my family was against that", the brave questioner has nothing to ask or say. No comment on how the youth of Kashmir wanting to contribute to it is more mainstream than some weird idea of allegiance to the nation. 

It is pertinent to note that he wanted to join the Indian Administrative Services, but his family opposed it. Many young people start out with naïve dreams, but the past returns. It is not what they inherit but that history does repeat itself in circles of deceit.

Towards the end of the interview, we get this:

What does he think about the Pathankot attack where the attackers claimed they wanted to avenge the death of his father? "I don't know much about that. People should not try to harm others. But yes if the Indian government has done something wrong then they will be punished.

And does he agree with the azaadi sentiment? "I don't think about that. I stay with my studies and my work. I work very hard as that's what my mother tells me."

I do not expect a 17-year-old not to be politicised, especially one who is surrounded by politics, and who has to bear the burden of being the son of a shaheed. But why should he be dragged into such indirect battles when the media claims it is celebrating his 94% achievement? To end the interview in this manner seems to be projecting a future martyr. 

A reader left this comment at the end of the piece:

Why are U championing the son of a terrorist as if he is some great Yuga Purusha? There are countless children of soldiers who excel in their studies and career. Why dont U feature them? For all that U know, this son of a 3rd rated terrorist and traitor would still be supporting his father and his philosophy of Jehaad and may be nursing a feeling of revenge towards the nation for the hanging of his father...

This is how deviously some liberals work. They seem to 'champion' a cause, so that it plays right into the hands of patriots frothing at the mouth. The reason they do not feature the children of soldiers or others is because the real aim is to highlight jihad, draw people out so that others perceive it the way this reader has. (Note the last sentence here and of the second last para of Ghalib's interview.)

Such binaries emanate from their own comatose perceptions to benefit only themselves. 

Holy cows and cartoons

India loves cows, the temple variety not the ones left with festering wounds to forage in garbage dumps. The new government is serious about cow protection. As I said, we love cows, some worship them.

So, when a cow knocks on the door of an elite space club should it be considered insulting? According to the Indian worldview, the cow should have the right to be there, was in fact born to be there. Why, then, did some demand an apology from the New York Times for this cartoon in response to the Mars Orbiter Mission?

Do we consider the farmer and the beast any less when compared with our space missions? If so, then this is cause for serious concern. India is largely a rural country and agriculture continues to be its mainstay. How does it convey the image of a backward society when this is what feeds us as well as a few importing countries?

The farmer is not being obsequious about entering the elite club; he is assertive. The cow too is rather saucy and sanguine. It is the westerners reading the news who seem to be worried and shocked. They look backward because they have not come out of their cocoons to keep in touch with the world to see how far others have progressed, far enough for India to be the only one to succeed in its Mars Mission at the first attempt.

We anoint a scientific operation with a Sanskritised, almost mythified, name like Mangalyaan, we pretty much treat it as some sort of divine intervention, and then we project our insecurities on others. Strangely, I hear that Malayalis objected to it most on social media because many of ISRO’s scientists are Malayali. What does this tell us about our parochialism? It is natural to feel proud of one’s own, but let us not see a slight where there seems to be none.

The farmer and the cow are as much images of India as the camel and the bedouin are of the Middle East, in fact more so. It does not mean we have nothing else. If anything, this is a paean to the India of the majority – the villager. It is true that the farmer did not send the mission into space but scientists may come from rural backgrounds. Have we forgotten the euphoria upon the success of the mission? The most telling picture was of women scientists with flowers in their hair jubilating.

If we have a problem with the cartoon, then why not with this impression of what is Indian womanhood from a certain perspective? That too is a stereotype, where the lab-coat is seen as elite privilege.

After being pressurised, the newspaper apologised. Andrew Rosenthal, editorial page editor, said:

“The intent of the cartoonist, Heng Kim Song, was to highlight how space exploration is no longer the exclusive domain of rich, Western countries. Mr Heng, who is based in Singapore, uses images and text - often in a provocative way - to make observations about international affairs. We apologise to readers who were offended by the choice of images in this cartoon.” He further added that the cartoonist “was in no way trying to impugn India, its government or its citizens”.

India is too vast; the people are too many and disparate. That leaves the government. This mission did not happen overnight after Narendra Modi came to power, so it is not the success of the present government at all. But I see this more as NYT trying to still play host to the PM after his NRI-slavering visit. The Indian authorities might see in this censorship of a kind an opportunity to use as precedent whenever we are faced with some truth even if it is not, or should not be, inconvenient.

We’ve got the apology from NYT (and it is always great to see NYT apologise, for different reasons), but are we going to hide the farmers from us? Will cows be placed on pedestals behind walls? Why can’t we own up to what is ours?

In Conversation: India and Pakistan

Often, the most meaningful things are said in the simplest manner. One must, therefore, appreciate this effort to get Indians and Pakistanis to talk. The premise is basic – we have phones, they have phones, so telephone. I warmed to it immediately.

But, will this bring people on both sides (we are not even speaking about the two nations) closer together? This was a ‘controlled’ atmosphere, and even if comments were not censored it was understood that the conversation was to be light. What we see is one reality – the coffee shop or corner store one. The young even on campuses are politically aware and most certainly come with a bagful of stereotypes about the other. It does not negate the awareness about Bollywood, cricket, or food. Yet, all of these can be politicised on the day there is a clash of films, a match or a culinary competition.

Take that delightful moment when the Indian girl asks her ‘friend’ in Pakistan, “Do you like Salman Khan?” and the latter replies, “No. Why?”, the Indian says, “Then we can talk!” It is humorous, but in the subtlety is embedded conditionality. Or, the fact that the Pakistani is portrayed as thinking he holds on to a deep, dark secret for being a fan of Sharukh Khan.

The makers have also matched the profiles of the people they partnered, dude with dude, accent with accent; in a way it helps to bring out the commonalities but it also conveys that communication is limited to ‘people like us’.

It was cute when the Indian girl speaking to a Pakistani who wants to visit Jaipur tells her, “Main bol deti hoon inse (I’ll tell them to do something)”. Or, when the Pakistani young man asks the Indian when he will visit Pakistan and he says, “Sir, aap mereko visa bhejo tau main nikal jaoon abhi kal ka kal (if you send me a visa I am ready to leave rightaway).”

This is all tongue-in-cheek swagger, which makes it an astonishing little outing. In fact, after having written these couple of paras, I am feeling guilty for nitpicking. This is what charm offensives do!

Love it…just don’t take it as the whole truth:

Support Gaza, Lose Your Bank Account - HSBC's New Mantra?

Why is HSBC closing down the accounts of its Muslim clients in UK? Is it connected with where their sympathies lie on Gaza? On July 22, a few prominent organisations got letters saying that they have until September 22, after which they would not be permitted to bank with them because the services "now falls outside of our risk appetite".

They are solvent, and owe the bank nothing. So, what is it and why the pregnant-with-meaning "now"? According to the BBC report, the bank has said:

"Discrimination against customers on grounds of race or religion is immoral, unacceptable and illegal, and HSBC has comprehensive rules and policies in place to ensure race or religion are never factors in banking decisions."

They have an alibi in "poor money-laundering controls". This should be their lookout and not of those who have no such history.

The Finsbury Park Mosque's chairman Mohammed Kozbar said:

"The bank didn't even contact us beforehand. Didn't give us a chance even to address [their] concerns. For us it is astonishing - we are a charity operating in the UK, all our operations are here in the UK and we don't transfer any money out of the UK. All our operations are funded from funds within the UK."

HSBC is being irresponsible. It could not be because Abu Hamza, who was earlier in charge of the mosque, was convicted of terror offenses in the US. He was not with the mosque since 2005. Nobody is trying to hide anything. In fact, Mr. Kozbar said:

"The positive work we have done since taking over over from Abu Hamza to change the image of the mosque, there is nothing really that can explain [HSBC's decision]."

Ummah Welfare Trust has a more real Gaza connection. The letter from HSBC-UK said, "You will need to make alternative banking arrangements, as we are not prepared to open another account for you". The Trust has become defensive:

"We make sure we go out of the way to work with organisations that are non-partisan. What we do now is we do a check on Thomson Reuters and make sure that there is no link whatsoever with blacklisted organisations. We don't want to damage our relief efforts. We have tried our best to be non-partisan as much as possible."

A Trust has a right to choose its beneficiaries, and in Gaza they don't have to be balanced because Israel is getting enough from the West. Who is deciding on the blacklisted organisations that benefit, and what are the yardsticks to gauge that?

The Cordoba Foundation, a Muslim think tank acting as a link between Europe and the Middle East, and Anas al Tikriti who runs it, his wife, and two children have all separately received letters of closure without any reason at all. He said:

"It is unsettling. I am not used to being addressed in those terms. It's like I have done something wrong. The involvement of my family disturbs me. Why the entire family? I can only speculate - and I wish someone from the bank could explain [why the accounts were closed]. The organisations are mainly charities and the link is that many of them if not all of them are vocal on the issue of Palestine. It would be a great shame if that was true. As I'm left to speculate, that's the only reason I can come to."

HSBC-UK is doing something patently wrong, not only to its clients but also to itself. Had it provided a reason, however vague, it would still have some ethical leverage. If non-Muslim organisations have been told about closures, they would have had similar complaints. Where are they? Are they being circumspect, and if so why?

A sharp Op-Ed in Forbes blames it on "some discreet pressure from the American authorities (or the possibility of it in the future)". It also points out the hypocrisy:

"Whatever the youngest Mr Tikriti has been spending his pocket money on, it’s hard to believe that a small boy falls outside the “risk appetite” of Europe’s largest bank. And especially a bank that was, until recently, perfectly happy with the business of Mexican drug cartels, allowing them to launder their money through HSBC accounts in the Cayman Islands. Not only that, but the same US Senate committee that fined HSBC $1.9bn in 2012, also questioned the bank’s dodgy links with financial institutions in Saudi Arabia that, they believed, were responsible for funding terrorism."

Is the bank more concerned with its financial interests?

Nicholas Wilson, a HSBC whistleblower and UK-based financial activist, thinks so, and believes that is the reason for its pro-Israeli stance:

“HSBC has a bank in Tel Aviv and have held a licence there since 2001. They claim on their website to be the only foreign bank in Israel offering private banking. It could therefore be possible that they consider being seen to bank for pro-Palestinian organisations puts them in conflict with their ambitions in Israel."

What HSBC-UK is doing is passive-aggressive at different levels.

• By not giving a reason, it is being non-committal while at the same time expecting that the 'banned' clients come out with their own doubts. This will, the bank and its masters hope, expose them. Once their social and political affiliations are exposed, they can always use that to hit out at them. It won't be past them to suggest that money laundering is done through those tunnels of Hamas.

• The BBC report states:

The Charities Commission has confirmed that it is not investigating any of the organisations involved and says that if the charities don't have a relationship with a bank it could harm public trust in their work.

Targeting specific organisations will ensure a slow death of many of them, thereby pushing them out of the mainstream.

• Bringing young family members into the picture is the absolute low in stereotyping. It can have a psychological impact, and these youngsters might be forced to either protest (and oh the West knows how they will protest) or retreat and stop being "partisan". It is another matter that in their school other kids can take sides.

It comes down to just one thing: You can only be on the side that is decided for you.

© Farzana Versey

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Image: Finsbury Mosque, Reuters

Sunday ka Funda

Sunday ka Funda

The last thing one would think about in a men's innerwear ad is a mother. The Amul Macho series has had some 'macho' moments, but it is pretty much oddball. In the latest one, burglars enter a house and are in the process of robbing it clean when the owner lands up in the room. He looks pretty much unlikely to take on the main big-built thief.

The 'hero' picks up the phone. Thief says, "Don't call the police or I'll shoot you."

"I am not calling the cops, I am calling your mother!"

"Why?" asks the thief, panic on his face.

"How do you address your mother?" the owner persists.

"Maaa," says the thief, pleading, almost like a child again.

"I must tell her about the big-big things you are taking away."

"Keep away the big things..." he tells his boys. And then to the hero, "Please don't tell Ma."

Much as I dislike stereotypes, the nurturing by the mother begins even before birth. Marketing gurus might sell products using this as a hook, but should we deny it because of that? The tagline "Bade Araam se" is indeed apt. That the guy wearing such inners can handle a tough situation. The entry of his wife at the end, holding him with approval, could be seen as a helpless bystander, but she is not in the frame earlier so I won't nitpick.

However, it is the thief who really makes this ad work because of the unseen mother. His fear of her also conveys a deep respect for the values she instilled in him, and that he is not adhering to.

I know it might seem that one is pushing it to justify a Mother's Day tribute, but the fact is that each time the ad appears on TV I wait for the word Ma.

On a side note, I do admit that I'd have committed fewer mistakes in my life had somebody called up my mother. I won't say no mistakes because, as another ad says, "Kuchch daag achche hain!" Some stains are good.

But mothers aren't detergents. They are water.

© Farzana Versey

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Also: Forrest Mum and Miracles" and Mamta (when age catches up)

Sunday ka Funda

"Out with stereotypes, feminism proclaims. But stereotypes are the west's stunning sexual personae, the vehicles of art's assault against nature. The moment there is imagination, there is myth."

— Camille Paglia

"Do not put garbage in our mind." This graffiti on the wall outside Tunis City Hall has been quoted to explain the attitude towards women's dress following the Arab Spring.

As happens with all such studies in a cocoon, it uses a small sample and reaches broad conclusions, that too about what the respondents thought 'might' be appropriate but is not necessarily practised. Worse, it is actually based on the false premise of what constitutes "MidEast countries". Tunisia, Egypt and Pakistan are not in the Middle East.

While the research, and mainstream commentators, assume a superior attitude towards "secularism", they forget that their obsession with what is termed "Muslim dress" is anything but. They are working their way backwards, and become as veiled as the veils they find constricting when their idea of "women's choice" becomes selective.

This is not even the imagination or myth that Paglia speaks about. It is merely a lame excuse to falsely manufacture how free they themselves are.

The above tongue-in-cheek response in the web world to the research chart shows us just how hollow such statistics and stereotypes can be, using mere mode of dress to formulate a point of view. Are you what others wear?

To paraphrase the graffiti, the garbage is in their minds.

© Farzana Versey

Terrorism and the Indian Muslim: 'Shahid' as Apologia

Soon after the first shot was fired in the first scene, I felt uncomfortable. Anything to do with the riots of 1993 produces a pit-of-the-stomach reaction. I have no control over it. However, barely a few minutes into the film and my discomfort was transferred to the manner in which Shahid subtly works the mainstream.

The problem with the ordinary man as hero, or someone who does extraordinary things, is that everything else begins to be seen as a prop to bolster his story.

Those who have witnessed the 1993 Bombay riots up-close might be able to comprehend the issues I have with the film, based on the real life story of slain lawyer Shahid Azmi, whose portfolio comprised mostly of cases of wrongly-convicted or imprisoned men on charges of terrorism.

Except for that one torture scene, the dilemmas are portrayed in a touch-and-go manner. Not only does the film consolidate stereotypes, it comes across as an apologist for the government. Throughout there is an assertion of how wonderful the judiciary is. As the end credits roll, it is mentioned that in his seven-year career Shahid procured 17 acquittals.

While this is factually correct, there are numerous cases that go unheard, forget about getting justice.

The details, as shown in the film: A teenager from a lower middle-class family watches the riots of 1993. He is deeply affected and leaves for Kashmir. Here he gets some sort of training in handling arms. He escapes from there after a few months. Is arrested on charges of being a terrorist. In the seven years of imprisonment, he studies. Once out, he pursues a law degree, joins a firm, quits to start his own practice, starts fighting cases of 'suspects' who are rounded up without a shred of evidence.

And then one day he is shot dead in his office. The end is the beginning.

The premise was open to raise pointed questions, even as it maintained a narrative structure. Instead, there is no sense of commitment, except for mouthing of clichés.

It pained me when I watched it, and it pains me now as I write it, because this film is being hailed for taking a risk. Some have even said how wonderful it is that such a film was made at all.

What kind of a society are we that what needs to be stated as a matter of course is considered an achievement? It is infuriating that we have to accept these crumbs. Azmi's life was in some ways remarkable, but the biopic is not.

It works on the formula of good Muslim. Had this not been a "gritty" film, one would be tempted to recall Karan Johar's celluloid families. Shahid and his brothers are shown as too perfect. They are educated, clean-shaven, and the bearded men they associate with speak gently. I know loudmouths who are not militant. And much as education needs to be encouraged, should we assume that those who do not have access to it are all suspect?

Why does Shahid escape after the riots and that too for training in jihad? This is a horrible indictment, and assumes that those who are affected by such scenes will as a natural course choose to become terrorists.

We do not know what he is disillusioned about. It would have been an important message to understand that such jihad is not a panacea. But the director desultorily goes through the motions of showing a few men wearing skull caps, holding rifles, saying "Allah-hu-Akbar", and preparing for some grand plan that might come their way.

Upon his return to Mumbai, he goes home. He is later arrested because they think he is a terrorist. Resigned to a life in prison, a Kashmiri militant befriends him over games of chess. Yes, the good Muslim Shahid is pitted against the bad one who will use him as a pawn. This is borne out later when a good Kashmiri (the film is ridden with such good-bad ideas, although it does so quietly) warns him about Umar and how these guys just want to prove their superiority and lord over others. He also tells Shahid about how justice takes time, but it prevails. The fact that they are all unjustly in jail seems to be lost on him.

The good Kashmiri is friends with Professor Saxena. (You cannot possibly have a Prof. Gilani or Raza, can you?) They encourage Shahid to continue with his studies, and the professor pitches in with some tokenism about Sher Shah Suri.

Seven years later, the family has moved to a better residence. There is no evidence of anyone having dissociated with his family. This is not the story of many people, as Shahid himself suggests. Then why was this family spared? Because they are not 'typical'?

Shahid joins the firm of a Muslim lawyer. The avarice puts him off, and he starts on his own. I would like to emphasise here that all this conveys that for a young Muslim to be taken seriously, not only does he have to be clean-shaven and educated, he also has to be squeaky clean.

Maryam, one of his clients, is possibly a spark in many ways. Shahid falls in love with her and proposes. That is when she asks him, "You know I am a divorcee, don't you?" There you go. A Muslim woman who probably had 'talaq' said to her three times, and is now bringing up her son on her own. They marry quietly. Why?

When he later takes her to meet his mother he brings a burqa, something she has never worn. He requests her to do so just this once. I fail to understand this. His mother is not shown wearing one, and if he has married without consent, then does he need this? What exactly does the director want us to know? That all said and done, a Muslim woman will at some point in her life have to wear a veil?

The scenes in the court are slightly better, but again the judge is seen pulling up the public prosecutor more than the defense. This sounds rather utopian. At one point Shahid loses it and asks, "Are you trying to say I am a terrorist?" That is the one true moment. For the most part, he does not even use the word Muslim. He says "minority". If this is not a copout, then what could possibly be?

He fights the case of Faheem Ansari, arrested following the Mumbai attacks of 2008 because his laptop had some maps. Shahid starts getting threatening calls. There is no explanation. The silence is a tacit understanding of not taking sides.

One night, Shahid is called to his office and shot dead. His colleague appears for Faheem in his place. It takes a Ramalingam to justify the work of a Shahid Azmi. This is what the film tells us. This is what people tell us. This is how stereotypes work. This is how Indian Muslims get branded. Patronised.

Fine. I am glad this film was made. It just shows us how celebrity parallel filmmakers play the formula and consolidate the stance that the state is always right.

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Update

I have been fairly surprised by how the 'populism' of such serious cinema works. To the certified Muslim organisation that has sent this email:

"Go watch SHAHID before it is too late. If you dont have time atleast buy tickets and gift it to some who has. If people are so disinterested, filmmakers wont want to make such brilliant movies again"

I can only say that rather than gifting tickets, acquire the skills and have the gumption to make a movie that tells your story your way, instead of waiting for majoritarian prerogative to speak up for you.

You want to accept magnanimity, and that is the whole darned problem. And you in your elitist hole, there are people who do not need to watch movies to know what they experience.

If on an everyday basis one is taunted as being a jihadi and asked to go to Pakistan, I can only imagine how it is for the people who are rounded up without even the courtesy of a snigger.

I did not need this film to get me thinking. I have done so publicly since 'Bombay', then 'Fizaa' and later the execrable 'Black Friday'. My analysis of the last one is here.

It is no surprise that quite a few 'secular' people, even among Muslims, would want to applaud the film. It is their choice. Just do not expect me to fall for any and every gesture of some 'pathbreaking maverick'. I can turn around and say that I have posed queries that are not in the domain of either popular or even much of offbeat ideas. How does such hat-tipping matter when you are being handed over little bites of predigested bitterness?

What I write is to challenge the reader as much as I am challenged, though not by this film because it plays too safe. But do not tell me that the questions a film/art/book/thinker asks are the final questions and the ones I ought to ask too.

© Farzana Versey

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The performances were uniformly above-average. But I cannot bring myself to see it as just a film. Here is the official trailer; what I have written will not come through here:

Sunday ka Funda

"''Home' is any four walls that enclose the right person."

- Helen Rowland

I like the tagline: "Har ghar kuchch kehta hai" (every house speaks). For a paint ad, this seems like an obvious choice. But how often do homes talk or convey anything?

This ad in some ways is all about stereotypes — the armyman's discipline and the woman leaving her maternal home. While the emotions are subtly conveyed, through his concern for decorating the bedroom like the one in her house, a mere replication does not take a relationship forward.

Nitpicking aside, the words and feelings stay with you.

"Tell me whom you love and I will tell you who you are."

- Arsene Houssaye

Dressing up for Modi?

In what has been referred to as "Narendra Modi's rally" in Jaipur today, the “diktat" over the dress code is the major news. As happens often, the minutiae has taken over the discourse. According to a report:

BJP's minority cell has asked people from the Muslim community to come dressed in a specific attire. Men have been asked to wear sherwanis and topis and females have been asked to wear burqas. Whether this is Modi's attempt to reach out to the Muslim community is anyone's guess.

Are the men attending a wedding or a special function that they'd dress up in sherwanis? Why is it assumed that all women would be amenable to wearing a burqa? How different is such a dress code from extremists issuing edicts? Will those who do not fall into the stereotype qualify as Muslim enough?

Some other reports have mentioned the presence of clerics from the Ajmer Dargah. They are residents, and would wear what they usually do. We get to see saffron kurtas and bandanas quite regularly. Are those people told what to wear? Does anybody object or applaud them for it? [In the picture that accompanies this post, Modi looks like he is dressed up for a purpose. Or is it the usual entertainment quotient he provides for all BJP functions as “showstopper"?]

One viewpoint is that this appeal was sent by the BJP's minority cell. It would be impossible for the cell to take such a decision on its own. Modi and party must have been kept in the loop.

Besides, how does this qualify as an attempt to reach out to Muslims? If they do indeed wear "Islamic clothes", what else is there to do? This is in no way about wooing the community. In fact, it would help in easily identifying the members and keeping a check on them to see how they react, and then 'profiling' them.

Vote-bank politics is less about appeasement and more about creating ghettos to use and abuse.

© Farzana Versey

Dunkin' Donuts and Oprah

Do we sometimes overstate racism? Emphasis on colour in politically-correct terms only consolidates stereotypes. Finger-pointing bad taste draws attention to it. Racism is way more than the buying and selling of products and the imagery associated with them.

What is wrong with the Dunkin’ Donuts ad campaign by the Thailand franchise? That a female model is covered in dark chocolate, has hair done up in a certain way that makes it appear as though she is black? There have been the usual noises about insensitivity. We are not discussing Trayvon Martin here or people of colour being denied access to space and opportunity. The product is clearly using a particular palette, just as people might paint their faces in shades of, say, the national flag during sports or cultural events.

It took me a few seconds to find this other image by merely searching for white chocolate. If we have a problem with a dark product sold by a ‘black’ model, why don’t we have issues with a white product marketed by a white model? Godiva’s white Kit-Kat has chosen a stereotype, too.

Some reports have pointed out that the pink lipstick stands out and looks bizarre. Advertisements are about drawing attention. It seems like a simple aesthetic placement if we look at the logo. Pink is also about candy, so this is a form of association. A shocking shade would stand out on anyone. What about Naomi Campbell in the ‘drink milk’ promos where she sported a white moustache? What about her posing in those starkly contrasting pictures with Kate Moss?

Dunkin’ Donuts has apologised for this ad, but the owner of the Thai franchise has called it “paranoid American thinking”. It would appear that there is some guilt and discomfort by others regarding portrayal of blacks and racism. On the one hand, campaigns flaunt black is beautiful —another pigeonhole, as I analysed here – and then there is this chariness.

Recently, Oprah Winfrey ‘outed’ a racist salesperson she had encountered in a Zurich mall who told her that the bag she wanted to buy was too expensive. Oprah does not live in a ghetto; her riches are well-earned. She is recognised almost everywhere. Perhaps if she went
to Harlem incognito and tried to purchase a costly thing a black salesperson might draw attention to the price tag. Would that qualify as racism? If not, then what could be the reason? What sort of stereotypes are manifested here?

It is more a matter of hierarchy, or perception of it. I can give a few examples.

• Several years ago, I went into a store in London to pick up some brandy. The woman at the counter snapped, “Not that, it is too much money.” She was of Indian origin and from her deportment and manner looked like a recent immigrant. Between anger and amusement, I figured out that this was something that she could not afford. It was projection. I was a visitor whose cart was filled with goodies. In some ways, she felt slighted and the only manner in which she could to respond was to see that emotion mirrored in someone else.

• In India, one sees even backpackers – white first, then black – given preferential treatment while one is shopping. Although it is more likely that as tourists they are “just looking” and I am the real customer they will earn from, the hierarchy revolts against it. I have walked away quite often after waiting for the shopkeeper to attend to me. However, if there is another Indian who is perceived as less ‘valuable’, then the focus is on me.

• When I took out a $100 bill to pay for a snack at Universal Studios, LA (I didn’t have enough change), the Hispanic cashier almost sniggered, “You got lotsa money, eh?” If that wasn’t bad enough, the black gentleman who was part of the tour group said, “For this much I’d get a full meal at McDonald’s.” Would these be considered racist comments? I did not think so then and I don’t believe so now in hindsight. It is about where we are and who we are dealing with. Cultural baggage is relative.

Covered with dark chocolate or whipped cream, or lips painted a shocking pink, one’s identity is a stereotype too. Unless maliciously used to segregate, it makes better sense to not be numbed by how others perceive us.

© Farzana Versey

Regurgitating Jihad: Boston Marathon

Is she dead? Injured? Her limbs blown off? I will never know. I knew her only as a pseudonym. She often spoke about training for the marathon. She was, from all accounts, rather fit “for my age”. I did not know how old or young she was. I only discovered the tremendous effort she put in for something that gave her so much joy, such a sense of achievement.

Stray exchanges revealed that she was a nurse of Pakistani origin. However, I felt her constant assertion of her American nationality a bit overarching. There was a touch of insecurity, and I know how it feels.

Take any attack and the first word on everyone’s lips – and that probably constitutes most non-Americans too – is jihadi. Miles away, my first thought was not one of sympathy, but “Hope it is not a Muslim” on hearing about the Boston Marathon bomb blasts. Paranoia is dehumanising us, instead of making us more sensitive. I was shocked that President Barack Obama was berated for not calling it a “terrorist attack”.  The same people who demand the use of the catchphrase refer to the many more trigger-happy young kids and racists as gunmen and almost always there is an attempt to understand their behaviour in terms of “mental instability”.

It is not a very healthy attitude when only due to one’s origins we wait for the insiders to voice our thoughts and heave a sigh of relief. I usually do not hold back, but even when I openly give another perspective, I am always aware that I will be judged not dispassionately for what I say, but for ‘who’ I am.

And so when I read Glenn Greenwald write in The Guardian that a day after the April 15 Boston attack, “42 people were killed and more than 250 injured by a series of car bombs, the enduring result of the US invasion and destruction of that country”, I thought more people would understand. Greenwald by virtue of not being a Muslim is quite above any suspicion or agenda. There will most certainly be people who might castigate him, but he will not be seen as someone who is paid by terrorists.

Here are some salient points from his piece and my reaction to them:

“The widespread compassion for yesterday's victims and the intense anger over the attacks was obviously authentic and thus good to witness. But it was really hard not to find oneself wishing that just a fraction of that compassion and anger be devoted to attacks that the US perpetrates rather than suffers. These are exactly the kinds of horrific, civilian-slaughtering attacks that the US has been bringing to countries in the Muslim world over and over and over again for the last decade, with very little attention paid. Somehow the deep compassion and anger felt in the US when it is attacked never translates to understanding the effects of our own aggression against others.”

I am not too sure if empathy is the solution, as the tweet he reproduces reveals. How can it when the immediate reaction is to hark back to 9/11, without even trying to comprehend the difference in the reasons and manner in which the attacks were carried out? 

It would be expecting too much for the large majority of Americans to be concerned about Yemen or Iraq just as Iraqis and Yemenis would not empathise with America; for most of them, their contact is with US forces sent to protect them.  It is not incumbent upon the citizens to rationalise. This is the job of the government, and political expediency demands creating a fear psychosis. None of the countries the US has intervened in has benefited from its democratic ideals.

“The rush, one might say the eagerness, to conclude that the attackers were Muslim was palpable and unseemly, even without any real evidence. The New York Post quickly claimed that the prime suspect was a Saudi national (while also inaccurately reporting that 12 people had been confirmed dead)…Anti-Muslim bigots like Pam Geller predictably announced that this was ‘Jihad in America’.”

The victims of this so-called jihad are largely Muslims. I do not know what sort of religiosity would make them target their own places of worship, their own people. This is proof that their ideology is to use the name of a faith, much as others use the patriotic card to whip up xenophobic sentiments. It is, indeed, the job of investigators to question people, but getting hold of a Saudi national immediately and then making it public does convey that it wasn’t about investigations; rather, it does seem more like a gotcha moment. Osama bin Laden is dead. The Al Qaeda is not a unified group anymore. I do not need to emphasise again that George Bush was quite friendly with the House of Saud and Osama was himself a tactical weapon of the CIA during the Russian war in Afghanistan.

“Recall that on the day of the 2011 Oslo massacre by a right-wing, Muslim-hating extremist, the New York Times spent virtually the entire day strongly suggesting in its headlines that an Islamic extremist group was responsible, a claim other major news outlets (including the BBC and Washington Post) then repeated as fact. The same thing happened with the 1995 Oklahoma City bombing.…in US political discourse, "terrorism" has no real meaning other than: violence perpetrated by Muslims against the west. The reason there was such confusion and uncertainty about whether this was "terrorism" is because there is no clear and consistently applied definition of the term. At this point, it's little more than a term of emotionally manipulative propaganda.”

I have often wondered why this does not qualify as a conspiracy against a community when so many conspiracy theories prevail. The Atlantic Wire mentioned the Boston Police Department's final press conference where Dan Bidondi, a radio host for InfoWars, asked:

“Why were the loud speakers telling people in the audience to be calm moments before the bombs went off? Is this another false flag staged attack to take our civil liberties and promote homeland security while sticking their hands down our pants on the streets?”

To further quote from the piece on what a "false flag" attack is:

“The term then expanded to mean any scenario under which a military attack was undertaken by a person or organization pretending to be something else. What the questioner was asking, then, was: Did the United States government orchestrate this attack, pretending to be a terrorist organization of some sort, in order to justify expanded security powers?”

I would understand if the manipulative machinery projected the view about “devices found”, “threat perception”, “intelligence reports”, or even conducted a mock exercise. I very much doubt if the US government would endanger the lives of its people to actually organise an attack. It will most likely want to create fear among the citizens, and that should be enough to grant it the privilege to use its security powers. It has used 9/11 as a propaganda ploy, and this has worked because the United States was not accustomed to being attacked on this scale.

Does a nation go on the offensive against countries where the perpetrators could be without any evidence? The runners are innocent and so are the villagers who live under threat of drones. The point is no one should be stuck on empathy. We cannot feel the pain. And, for all his genuinely balanced opinion, Greenwald too when speaking about ethnic groups feeling alienated added, “even though leading Muslim-American groups such as CAIR harshly condemned the attack (as they always do) and urged support for the victims, including blood donations”.

This is the problem. You have to state it loud and clear. Stand on the soapbox and declare that your heart is clean and you care. It would be so much better, and convey the true spirit of America, if these people were not boxed into a group, and instead seen as US citizens like any other. Here, it sounds as though they are being granted the magnanimity of being ‘like us’, and not ‘like them’.  

© Farzana Versey

Desire under the microchip

Would you want your clothes to become transparent whenever you are aroused, instead of the usual signals? When innovative tech art enters personal territory it becomes both edgy and a matter of some concern.

Artist Daan Roosegaarde, who runs a social design lab, has diversified into computerised couture. He does not call it that. Rather, it has a name more befitting lingerie – ‘Intimacy’. You may opt for the black or the white version.

According to The DailyBeast:

Each dress has a small microchip embedded inside that contains software programmed to monitor different behaviors—in this case, a heartbeat. The garment functions much like a computer: The input is the heartbeat, the processor is the microchip and the output is the foil material, which can change from white to transparent or black to transparent.

Roosegarde does not treat it as merely a techno marvel:

“It creates a situation of total control that the wearer or the one who observes it has an influence over what fashion looks like…With some people you want to show more and some people you want to show less. We thought it would make complete sense that the dress would be proactive in that: either you have control or you lose control.”

Any woman who has been exposed to a particularly cold windy day or the gust from an airconditioner knows how her nipples react. These signals have little to do with arousal, although bracing weather can indeed be utterly enticing.

I assume the person who chooses to dress in ‘Intimacy’ is aware of the consequences. A beautiful and spontaneous reaction is now about control. What if she is aroused by a fantasy, a passage in a book, a scene in a movie, and not the person she is with? Is it not possible that she would try and control herself and withhold a natural expression even though she might not wish to see it through to what is considered a logical end?

The sensual would now become mechanical. Were the woman’s garment to turn transparent due to her partner, then it would express urgency, a preparedness that might pretty much bypass foreplay. Where would the blushing cheeks, the darkening of eyes, the shortness of breath, the slow running of fingers through hair, the biting of lips, the anticipation figure in this?

There is something automated about the dress, and as it is programmed one is not too far from such an allusion.

Besides, while ostensibly giving women the freedom to let their clothes communicate their desires, it actually plays into the male prerogative of perceiving the signals. It assumes that women might not wish to convey what they want – either through those natural expressions I mentioned or proactively by seduction, where she can gauge male arousal. ‘Intimacy’ makes woman the taker, or rather the taken, as does every stereotype in the book.  It chips in with a microchip to assist her to get rid of being able to transmit sexual intent.

Male arousal is seen as a given and in control of itself and of what it desires. The man will know exactly what to do, when and how. The reality is not quite as simple. Men also have issues and inhibitions.

There are plans to dress men, too. ‘Intimacy 3.0’ is a suit that will become transparent when they lie. Roosegarde uses humour to explain it: “That’s for the banking world.” That one-liner itself reveals that men’s command over their bodies in sexual situations is to be taken for granted.  It is unlikely that they would pick up a suit that would expose their lies. If they would wear it in an intimate setting, isn’t it a bit confusing that they would want to fake arousal or lie about interest in their partner? Reminds me of Pinocchio, whose nose grew longer with every lie. It would kind of stick out.

Unless, there is an altruistic motive to get men to be more truthful, aware that their lies would get exposed. The microchip would then work as conscience-keeper. From the body’s reactions to emotions to matters more intimately moral, it would seem a market can be created for robotising and lobotomising everything that is human.

© Farzana Versey

Bollywood’s Killing Fields

Her life is pornography. Even as their bare bodies are entwined for a few minutes of pleasure, Mahi Arora is capturing the scene on her camera.

I know a wannabe Mahi from years ago. Strange hands splashed whipped cream in her cleavage, crawling higher and lower than needed, the movements robotic. There was awkwardness in her demeanour. I watched this helplessly at a photographer’s studio. The girl and I both rookies, our silences bought by fake dreams. She was a struggling actress and I was there to capture that struggle, write about it, take the message to the world. I felt like a lowlife. And when I did speak, the response hit me: “We are preparing her for the movies.”

This was foreplay where everyone wanted to be a part of what might be a success story. Kingmakers, rag makers stitching clothes so close to the skin that the needles poked into pores. 

***

The film Heroine has been panned by critics because it uses clichés. By turning away from clichés we often lose out on truth. It is superficial in parts because Bollywood is superficial.

The casting couch is a reality few want to accept even if they have made the mandatory visit to The Permanent Suite.  After the first time, it ceases to be about sex or even power. The “heroine ka rate-card” reveals how she is being degraded to fight for every endorsement, party invitation, paid guest appearance at some rich person’s wedding as the bride’s friend and not a celebrity. The diva is now a hanger-on, acting that part in real life so that she can retain the title of superstar.

I wept during the film not because Kareena Kapoor has torn every emotion to reveal shreds, but because I thought about whipped-cream Shanti. A name so common it had to be changed. It did not alter her destiny. Her foundation lay thick on the face, ending at the jawline, revealing another shade of neck. She was the tacky adornment in a few films that released in seedy cinema halls. Then, she disappeared.

I saw her a while ago at a televised award function. She was clapping away, her makeup a bit garish but not gauche, and a new body that she could afford to buy. Her rate-card had been made. She did not need to act anymore. Her applause was genuine. It was for a contemporary who had made it. She knew what their respective prices were. This was happiness projected.  

***

Every day brings a new story of desperate measures to seek attention. Some years ago when I read about a starlet’s tale of woe, I knew there was something amiss. She called up a newspaper office in an agitated state to talk about a photographer who was blackmailing her. She said, “The pictures were taken of me in a bathtub, but there was no indecent exposure. It’s no big deal, but I just felt they should not be published anywhere.”

So why was she making a big deal of it? If she believed that a picture in a bathtub did not constitute indecent exposure, then what was she worried about? Nobody pushed her into it. She had posed for them, some had been printed, and she had not objected at the time. The photographer would not gain much, for the supply of women in bathtubs exceeded the demand. But, by creating a buzz, she sent out a message to those who mattered – the filmmakers – that she had no qualms about posing in such a manner. She had to rescue her soap bubble existence.

It is not difficult to understand the extent people will go to in order to become automated products in phantom factories. It is a cruel world and they unknowingly make it even more cruel by sleeping with the nightmare. Often, the women hang on to men, sometimes to further their career or to portray themselves as a hit pair or to enhance self-esteem.

***

In Heroine a desperate Mahi, hands shakily holding cigarettes, liquor glasses, pills, eyes glazed with self-pity, is addicted to love. She clings to it and when she is tossed out like a squashed insect, its hair-like feet still writhing with life, she does not hesitate to use her private moments. She tells her PR agent to leak out the love-making clip with her star boyfriend. Had she captured it as a keepsake, or did she instinctively know that the only way to keep people was to be ready to risk losing them?

It happens with madams in brothels who were once prostitutes. They sting back at the new girls and the pimps with a mixture of benevolence and cunning. They are recreating their misery. The masochism psychologically scars them.

Heroine’s director Madhur Bhandarkar has created some caricatures. There is also pop psychology about people from broken homes and he is not as harsh on men. In a way, this works because the female star’s loneliness comes across more poignantly. She is leading an LSD existence, hallucinating about herself. Bollywood has amplified her persona, so when she sees it reduced in the bedroom or when her mouth tastes dust from the street, she internalises these as her own flaws. 

Clark Gable, who had a number of famous Hollywood stars as conquests, said he preferred prostitutes. “Because they go away and keep their mouths shut. The others stay around, want a bit of romance, movie lovemaking.”

He was expected to recreate in his bedroom what he had done under the arclights. That is the fantasy many of them begin to believe. And they try out various ruses on fading magic carpets.

Mahi, beaten and defeated, leaves for autumnal Europe where she can deny who she is. Is there really any escape? The Bollywood she was a part of thrives on killing identities. It is always synthetic spring here.

Published in Express Tribune, Sept 29

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Also an old post here: The Fedora in us