Love is wonderful. No, I am not moonstruck, but pondering as usual. The thing is, I was cleaning up some stuff, and happened to see the Amar Chitra Katha comic version of the story of King Kusha. The story triggered some thoughts, and here I am.
For people not in the know, here is the story. It is taken from the Jataka tales. King Okkaka was heirless. Indra granted him two sons as a boon, one wise but ugly and the other handsome but foolish. Sheelavati, the queen asked for the wise one to be born first, and so King Kusha was born. Later, Jayampati, the beautiful child, was born.
Kusha finished his learning quite soon. When his parents asked him to get married, he thought that no princess would agree to get married to a ugly youth like him, and hit upon a ruse to ward off the impending proposals and refusals. He carved a beautiful image of a woman, and asked his parents to find somebody who looked exactly like her. He was confident that they would not be able to find a woman as beautiful as his carving. But he was mistaken. Padmavati, the daughter of Sagala was found and married to Kusha on one condition - the new couple were not to see each other for some time. Padmavati loved to hear him play the veena, and imagined that he had an artist's handsome face.
Kusha could not hide his face long from Padmavati. As soon as she found out that her husband was not the handsome prince she had hoped for, she left for her parents' house. Thither followed Kusha. He became a potter's apprentice, made a beautiful pot with Padmavati's picture on it, and sent it to her. She recognized his work and threw the pot away. He then became the royal wicker-worker's apprentice and sent his work to her, but she rejected that too. He then became a cook at the palace, with the hope that he could at least see her often. She was unrelenting, but Kusha toiled in the royal kitchen, waiting for her to accept him.
Finally, Indra decided to help him. He sent a message to seven different kings in Sagala's name, saying that since his daughter (hey, Indra was a great forger!) had left Kusha, he would marry her off to them. Seven kings with seven armies came to Madda (that was the kingdom of Padmavati). Padmavati's father was now alarmed. Giving Padmavati to any one king would mean war with the other six, and he was just not prepared for it. Padmavati now saw the situation she was in, and appealed to Kusha to help her. Kusha settled matters by offering his seven sisters-in-law to the seven kings. Kusha and Padmavati lived happily ever after.
Now, that was the story. I have a question. I am sure some women, in their vanity, do not consider not-so-good-looking men as worthy of companionship, in spite of their other virtues. But would any man do so much for a woman who has scorned him repeatedly? I have read of men and women who do anything and everything to get to their loved ones back. Rama fought the entire army of Ravana to win Seeta back. In Kalidasa's drama, vikramorvasheeyam, Pururava performed penance for winning Urvashi. One can find umpteen instances like that in other cultures also. In Greek mythology, we have the search for Cupid by Psyche and the pining of Penelope for Ulysses. But in all such stories there is this one common thing - of mutual love that is nourished by longing and even by separation.
Well, I do not want to dissect the story any further and play spoilsport. Do let me know if you liked it :)
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Of Poverty, Perseverance and Dharavi
It is not uncommon to see people seeking alms in Bangalore. Today, while coming to work, I saw a woman with a child in her arms, begging at a traffic signal. It was not a pretty sight. The baby, probably about six months old, was blissfully asleep in its mother's arms. I usually do not give money as alms, but this time I gave what small change I had, knowing well that what I gave was not sufficient even for one meal of the baby.
Did the Mother have a choice? I tried to give her the benefit of doubt. Hers was probably a genuine case. She was probably not skilled in anything, and had the burden of the child to bear. But I have this feeling that there are always jobs available for the industrious and those who really want to work to make ends meet. Why, then, do people resort to begging? I am inclined to think that it is the "man-with-the-twisted-lip -syndrome", as harsh and insensitive as it may sound.
There was a time when 'ಕರತಲಭಿಕ್ಷಾ ತರುತಲವಾಸ:' was regarded highly, when poverty in terms of food, clothes and money was almost synonymous with the richness of the mind and intellect. But this is not that kind of a time. If one is reasonably intelligent and industrious, he/she can find a job (much better than begging), that might fetch enough to ward away hunger. In the olden days, one-sixth of honestly-earned money was supposed to be given off as charity. True, giving money away as charity is good for the giver, but does it not make one section of the society totally dependent on the favors of another? Won't that breed class distinction and class-wars?
I contrasted my experience with this article on Sepia Mutiny, about the Dharavi slum. I had read about the Dharavi slum a couple of years ago in the Kannada magazine, Taranga. And the picture I got from that was that of a dirty slum filled with frustrated people, as one sees in some movies. But this article was a real eye-opener for me. The slum is dirty alright, but the people are industrious, and becoming prosperous. The reason for this is their enthusiasm and spirit, that enable them to fight against all odds.
Apparently there are more than five-thousand one-room factories and many cottage industries in the two sq. km. area of Dharavi, whose collective annual turnover is a whopping 1 billion dollars! If that is not amazing, I don't know what is! Apparently they still do not pay taxes properly, but let us not think about it for now. 85% of the households have a television and 56% have a gas stove... A funny thing, as an aside - do 29% of the slum-dwellers think that the TV is more necessary than a gas stove? Oh, and 21% of the people own telephones. A really good number for a shantytown!
I can give other examples too. A lady used to work as a domestic help in my Grandmother's house. She worked in a few houses everyday for a few years and got her children (two boys), educated. Both of them did their B.E. The younger one lived in Canada for some time and made a lot of money. Now they all live in their own, big house with cars and other luxuries. One can say that Lady Luck was on their side, that the sons were intelligent and all that, but would they have become so successful if they did not have that strong desire to succeed, and if they had not worked so hard? To reiterate a point I feel very strongly about - if one really wants something (and perseveres), the whole universe will conspire in helping him achieve it.
The work-hard-and-sell-hard concept worked for the residents of Dharavi. Will it work for this woman and her child I met? And so many other men, women and children who have to beg for their living? Or rather, will they let it work for them? I fervently hope so, in spite of having a man like this at the helm.
Did the Mother have a choice? I tried to give her the benefit of doubt. Hers was probably a genuine case. She was probably not skilled in anything, and had the burden of the child to bear. But I have this feeling that there are always jobs available for the industrious and those who really want to work to make ends meet. Why, then, do people resort to begging? I am inclined to think that it is the "man-with-the-twisted-lip -syndrome", as harsh and insensitive as it may sound.
There was a time when 'ಕರತಲಭಿಕ್ಷಾ ತರುತಲವಾಸ:' was regarded highly, when poverty in terms of food, clothes and money was almost synonymous with the richness of the mind and intellect. But this is not that kind of a time. If one is reasonably intelligent and industrious, he/she can find a job (much better than begging), that might fetch enough to ward away hunger. In the olden days, one-sixth of honestly-earned money was supposed to be given off as charity. True, giving money away as charity is good for the giver, but does it not make one section of the society totally dependent on the favors of another? Won't that breed class distinction and class-wars?
I contrasted my experience with this article on Sepia Mutiny, about the Dharavi slum. I had read about the Dharavi slum a couple of years ago in the Kannada magazine, Taranga. And the picture I got from that was that of a dirty slum filled with frustrated people, as one sees in some movies. But this article was a real eye-opener for me. The slum is dirty alright, but the people are industrious, and becoming prosperous. The reason for this is their enthusiasm and spirit, that enable them to fight against all odds.
Apparently there are more than five-thousand one-room factories and many cottage industries in the two sq. km. area of Dharavi, whose collective annual turnover is a whopping 1 billion dollars! If that is not amazing, I don't know what is! Apparently they still do not pay taxes properly, but let us not think about it for now. 85% of the households have a television and 56% have a gas stove... A funny thing, as an aside - do 29% of the slum-dwellers think that the TV is more necessary than a gas stove? Oh, and 21% of the people own telephones. A really good number for a shantytown!
I can give other examples too. A lady used to work as a domestic help in my Grandmother's house. She worked in a few houses everyday for a few years and got her children (two boys), educated. Both of them did their B.E. The younger one lived in Canada for some time and made a lot of money. Now they all live in their own, big house with cars and other luxuries. One can say that Lady Luck was on their side, that the sons were intelligent and all that, but would they have become so successful if they did not have that strong desire to succeed, and if they had not worked so hard? To reiterate a point I feel very strongly about - if one really wants something (and perseveres), the whole universe will conspire in helping him achieve it.
The work-hard-and-sell-hard concept worked for the residents of Dharavi. Will it work for this woman and her child I met? And so many other men, women and children who have to beg for their living? Or rather, will they let it work for them? I fervently hope so, in spite of having a man like this at the helm.
Friday, June 15, 2007
'The Alchemist' By Paulo Coelho
Just today, I finished reading 'The Alchemist' by Paulo Coelho. The book has garnered a lot of praise from all over the world as life-changing and illuminating. I partly bought the book because I wanted some illumination, and partly to see if it really deserved so much praise. After reading it, I must say that I did find that the praise was well-deserved, and that it was really a book that I could learn from.
'The Alchemist' is the story of Santiago, a shepherd and his quest for a treasure he dreamt about. The book is about following one's dreams, both literally and figuratively. The alchemist guides the boy towards the realization of his dream, and teaches him quite a few things on the way, the most important lessons being perseverance and faith (reminds me of shraddha and saburi).
When I started reading through the book, I was unimpressed. There were, of course, precious nuggets thrown about liberally even from the beginning, the most memorable one for me being "When you really want something, the whole universe conspires in helping you achieve it". But the story itself seemed a bit weird. It felt like of those stories which seem to happen in another dimension altogether, much like Voltaire's "Princess of Babylon". And at times, I felt that I was reading a cross of Stephen Covey and Kahlil Gibran. But gradually, as I read on, I was appreciating the book more and more. I could see myself looking at the sand in the vast expanse of the desert, feeling the wind whisper to me about my dreams.
The boy's name is mentioned only once in the entire novel. Except for that one time, he is always referred to as "the boy". I think that that was because Coelho wanted to make it everybody's book. We are all like the boy; we dream of treasures. But we are not as daring, in that we are content with just dreaming and doing nothing about it. And though Santiago was more a youth than a boy, he is referred to as the boy because he was willing to be guided, without any hesitation. Though he had the help of the decision-making stones, he made his own decisions. This combination of two qualities - the eagerness to be taught and the ability to make decisions, was the reason for the boy's success.
As I do often, I could not help comparing the world-view of Coelho with that of Vedanta. More than once, it struck me that the "Soul of the World" was parabrahma, from where everything originates and to which everything goes in the end. Though Coelho is a practising Catholic, his thoughts about the "Soul of the World" appear distinctly advaitic in nature, when he says "he realized that his Soul was the Soul of the world". Most of his insights seem to stem from his own experiences. In his twenties, Coelho encountered a stranger who first appeared to him in a vision, and then in real life. This had a powerful effect on him, and he then wrote 'The Alchemist', which has a profound effect on us.
There is one very insightful story in the book that I really liked. A boy once went to a wise man to learn the secret of happiness. The wise man gave him a spoon with two drops of oil, and asked him to look around his beautiful castle. When the boy returned, he asked him whether he saw how beautiful his castle was. The boy replied that he could not, because he did not want to spill the oil in the spoon. The wise man asked him to go again and admire the castle and its grounds. The boy did what he was told, and came back, full of admiration for the beauty of the castle. But now, he was so engrossed in looking outside, that the oil was gone! The wise man then told him "The secret of happiness is to see all the marvels of the world, and never to forget the drops of oil on the spoon". I liked this concept very much. It is the middle-path that is always the best. I am reminded of DVG's poem, one of my favorites.
ಎದೆ ಮಾರುವೋಗದೊಡೆ ಕಣ್ ಸೊಬಗನುಂಡರೇಂ
ಹೃದಯ ಮುಯ್ ಕೇಳದೊಡೆ ನಲಿವ ಸೂಸಿದರೇಂ |
ಕದಡದಿರ್ದೊಡೆ ಮನವ, ತನು ಸೊಗವ ಸವಿದರೇಂ
ಮುದ ತಾನೆ ತಪ್ಪಲ್ಲ ಮಂಕುತಿಮ್ಮ ||
For people who care to learn something from the book, it gives one that much-needed gentle nudge towards one's goals. And the hope that even if we make mistakes searching for our guide like the boy did initially, we will find our alchemist waiting for us somewhere...
'The Alchemist' is the story of Santiago, a shepherd and his quest for a treasure he dreamt about. The book is about following one's dreams, both literally and figuratively. The alchemist guides the boy towards the realization of his dream, and teaches him quite a few things on the way, the most important lessons being perseverance and faith (reminds me of shraddha and saburi).
When I started reading through the book, I was unimpressed. There were, of course, precious nuggets thrown about liberally even from the beginning, the most memorable one for me being "When you really want something, the whole universe conspires in helping you achieve it". But the story itself seemed a bit weird. It felt like of those stories which seem to happen in another dimension altogether, much like Voltaire's "Princess of Babylon". And at times, I felt that I was reading a cross of Stephen Covey and Kahlil Gibran. But gradually, as I read on, I was appreciating the book more and more. I could see myself looking at the sand in the vast expanse of the desert, feeling the wind whisper to me about my dreams.
The boy's name is mentioned only once in the entire novel. Except for that one time, he is always referred to as "the boy". I think that that was because Coelho wanted to make it everybody's book. We are all like the boy; we dream of treasures. But we are not as daring, in that we are content with just dreaming and doing nothing about it. And though Santiago was more a youth than a boy, he is referred to as the boy because he was willing to be guided, without any hesitation. Though he had the help of the decision-making stones, he made his own decisions. This combination of two qualities - the eagerness to be taught and the ability to make decisions, was the reason for the boy's success.
As I do often, I could not help comparing the world-view of Coelho with that of Vedanta. More than once, it struck me that the "Soul of the World" was parabrahma, from where everything originates and to which everything goes in the end. Though Coelho is a practising Catholic, his thoughts about the "Soul of the World" appear distinctly advaitic in nature, when he says "he realized that his Soul was the Soul of the world". Most of his insights seem to stem from his own experiences. In his twenties, Coelho encountered a stranger who first appeared to him in a vision, and then in real life. This had a powerful effect on him, and he then wrote 'The Alchemist', which has a profound effect on us.
There is one very insightful story in the book that I really liked. A boy once went to a wise man to learn the secret of happiness. The wise man gave him a spoon with two drops of oil, and asked him to look around his beautiful castle. When the boy returned, he asked him whether he saw how beautiful his castle was. The boy replied that he could not, because he did not want to spill the oil in the spoon. The wise man asked him to go again and admire the castle and its grounds. The boy did what he was told, and came back, full of admiration for the beauty of the castle. But now, he was so engrossed in looking outside, that the oil was gone! The wise man then told him "The secret of happiness is to see all the marvels of the world, and never to forget the drops of oil on the spoon". I liked this concept very much. It is the middle-path that is always the best. I am reminded of DVG's poem, one of my favorites.
ಎದೆ ಮಾರುವೋಗದೊಡೆ ಕಣ್ ಸೊಬಗನುಂಡರೇಂ
ಹೃದಯ ಮುಯ್ ಕೇಳದೊಡೆ ನಲಿವ ಸೂಸಿದರೇಂ |
ಕದಡದಿರ್ದೊಡೆ ಮನವ, ತನು ಸೊಗವ ಸವಿದರೇಂ
ಮುದ ತಾನೆ ತಪ್ಪಲ್ಲ ಮಂಕುತಿಮ್ಮ ||
For people who care to learn something from the book, it gives one that much-needed gentle nudge towards one's goals. And the hope that even if we make mistakes searching for our guide like the boy did initially, we will find our alchemist waiting for us somewhere...
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
ಋಜುವಾದ ಮಾತು
ಈಚೆಗೆ ಸುದ್ದಿ ಮಾಡುತ್ತಿರುವ ವಿಷಯ 'ಆವರಣ'ದ ಮತ್ತು ಭೈರಪ್ಪನವರ ಬಗ್ಗೆ ಯು. ಆರ್. ಅನಂತಮೂರ್ತಿಯವರು ಮಾಡಿದ ಟೀಕೆ. ಯು.ಆರ್.ಏ ಅವರು ಮೊದಲು ಮಾಡಿದ ಟೀಕೆಗೆ ಸ್ಪಂದಿಸಿದ ಅನೇಕಜನ ವಿವಿಧಾಭಿಪ್ರಾಯಗಳನ್ನು ವ್ಯಕ್ತಪಡಿಸಿದ್ದಾರೆ. ವಿಜಯಕರ್ಣಾಟಕವನ್ನೂ, ಕೆಲವು ಸುಹೃದರ ಬ್ಲಾಗ್ ಗಳನ್ನೂ ಓದುವ ನನಗೆ ಭೈರಪ್ಪನವರ ಪರವಾಗಿಯೇ ಇಲ್ಲಿನ ಸ್ಪಂದನಗಳು ಇದ್ದದ್ದು ಅಚ್ಚರಿ ತರಿಸಲಿಲ್ಲ. ನನ್ನ ನಿಲುವೂ ಕೂಡ ಸುಮಾರು ಹಾಗೇ ಇದೆ.
ಅನಂತಮೂರ್ತಿಯವರ ಭಾಷೆಯ ಬಗ್ಗೆ ನನಗೆ ಮೊದಲಿನಿಂದಲೂ ಮೆಚ್ಚುಗೆ-ಗೌರವಗಳಿವೆ. ಬಹಳ ಚೆನ್ನಾಗಿ ಬರೆಯುತ್ತಾರೆ. ಆದರೆ ಒಳಹೊಕ್ಕು ನೋಡಿದರೆ ಅವರದು ಸತ್ತ್ವವೇ ಇಲ್ಲದ ಬರವಣಿಗೆ. ಇದಕ್ಕೆ ಕಾರಣ ಅವರ ಪೂರ್ವಗ್ರಹಗಳು. ಅವರ ಪುಸ್ತಕಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ನೈಜತೆ ಕಾಣಸಿಗದು. ಒಂದು ಕಥೆಯನ್ನು ಹೇಳುವಾಗ, ಅದು ಪಾತ್ರಗಳ ಕಥೆಯಾಗಿರಬೇಕು. ಪಾತ್ರಗಳು ಲೇಖಕನ ಸೃಷ್ಟಿಯಾಗಿದ್ದರೂ ಅವರ ಕ್ರಿಯೆ-ಭಾವ-ಅಭಿಪ್ರಾಯಗಳು ಲೇಖಕನವಲ್ಲದೆ ಅವುಗಳದೇ ಆದರೆ ಅಂಥ ಕಥೆ ನೈಜ ಎನಿಸುತ್ತದೆ. ಅನಂತಮೂರ್ತಿಯವರ ಬರೆಹಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ಈ ಗುಣ ನನಗೆ ಕಾಣಲಿಲ್ಲ. ತಮಾಷೆಯೆಂದರೆ ಅನಂತಮೂರ್ತಿಯವರು ಭೈರಪ್ಪನವರನ್ನು ಈ ವಿಷಯವಾಗಿ ಟೀಕಿಸಿರುವುದು!
ಭೈರಪ್ಪನವರ ಪುಸ್ತಕಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ಕವಿತ್ವದ ಆರ್ದ್ರತೆ ಇಲ್ಲ ಎಂದು ಅನಂತಮೂರ್ತಿಯವರು ಹೇಳುವುದನ್ನು ಒಪ್ಪುತ್ತೇನೆ. ಅವರ ಭಾಷೆ ಸ್ವಲ್ಪ ಗ್ರಾಮ್ಯ. ಆದರೆ ಭೈರಪ್ಪನವರ ಬರೆಹಗಳು (ಅನಂತಮೂರ್ತಿಯವರೂ ಒಪ್ಪುವಂತೆ) ಅದು ಹೇಗೆ ಅಷ್ಟು ಜನಪ್ರಿಯವಾದವು? ಒಂದಂತೂ ನಿಜ. ಸತ್ತ್ವಹೀನಕೃತಿಗಳು ಒಮ್ಮೊಮ್ಮೆ ಪ್ರಸಿದ್ಧವಾಗಬಹುದಾದರೂ ಸರ್ವಕಾಲದಲ್ಲಿಯೂ ಒಂದು ಕೃತಿ ಪ್ರಸಿದ್ಧವಾಗಬೇಕಾದರೆ ಅದರಲ್ಲಿ ಅಂತಃಸತ್ತ್ವ, ವಿಚಾರಶೀಲತೆ ಮತ್ತು ಪ್ರಾಮಾಣಿಕತೆಗಳು ಇರಬೇಕು. ಭೈರಪ್ಪನವರ ಕೃತಿಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ಈ ಗುಣಗಳಿರುವುದರಿಂದ ಅವರ ಕೃತಿಗಳು ಅಷ್ಟು ಜನಪ್ರೀತಿಯನ್ನು ಗಳಿಸಿವೆ. ಕೆಲವರು ಆರೋಪಿಸಿರುವಂತೆ ಭೈರಪ್ಪನವರು ಬ್ರಾಹ್ಮಣಶ್ರೇಷ್ಠತೆಯನ್ನು ಪ್ರತಿಪಾದಿಸುವುದಿಲ್ಲ. ಹಾಗೆ ನೋಡಲು ಹೋದರೆ ಅವರು ಯಾವ ವಿಷಯವನ್ನೂ ಪ್ರತಿಪಾದಿಸುವುದಿಲ್ಲ. ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗಳನ್ನು ಮಾತ್ರ ನಮ್ಮ ಮುಂದಿಟ್ಟು ಉತ್ತರದ ಬಗ್ಗೆ ನಾವೇ ಯೋಚನೆ ಮಾಡುವಂತೆ ಮಾಡುತ್ತಾರೆ. ಇದು ಉತ್ತಮಲೇಖಕನ ಗುರುತು. ಉದಾಹರಣೆಗೆ, 'ದಾಟು' ವಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಅಂತರ್ಜಾತೀಯ ವಿವಾಹಗಳ ಬೇರೆಬೇರೆ ವಿಧಗಳನ್ನು, ಬೇರೆಬೇರೆ ಜಾತಿಯವರಿಗೆ ತಮ್ಮ ಜಾತಿಯ ಮತ್ತು ಅನ್ಯಜಾತಿಗಳ ಬಗ್ಗೆ ಇರುವ ಭಾವನೆಗಳನ್ನು ಕಥೆಯ ಹಂದರದಲ್ಲಿ ಹೆಣೆದು, ಈ ವಿಷಯಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ನಮ್ಮ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗಳನ್ನು ಪ್ರಚೋದಿಸುತ್ತಾರೆ. ಉತ್ತರಗಳನ್ನು ಕಂಡುಹಿಡಿಯುವುದು ಅವರವರಿಗೆ ಬಿಟ್ಟಿದ್ದು!
ಹಾಗೆ ನೋಡಿದರೆ ಭೈರಪ್ಪನವರ ನಿಲುವು ಹೀಗೆಯೇ ಎಂದು ನಿಖರವಾಗಿ ಹೇಳಬಲ್ಲ ಪುಸ್ತಕ 'ಆವರಣ'. ಸಾಹಿತ್ಯದೃಷ್ಟ್ಯಾ ಇದು ಭೈರಪ್ಪನವರ ಉತ್ತಮಕೃತಿಯೆಂದು ಖಂಡಿತ ಹೇಳಲಾಗದು. ಆದರೆ ಇಲ್ಲಿ ವಿವರಿಸಿರುವ ವಿಚಾರಗಳು ನಮ್ಮ ಇಂದಿನ "ಸೆಕ್ಯುಲರ್" ಜನತೆಗೆ ಅಗತ್ಯವಾಗಿ ತಿಳಿಹೇಳಬೇಕಾದವು. ಸತ್ಯದ ಸಮಾಧಿಯ ಮೇಲೆ ಸುಳ್ಳಿನ ಗೋಪುರವನ್ನು ಕಟ್ಟಲು ಹೊರಟಿರುವವರು ನಮ್ಮ ಇಂದಿನ ವಾಮಪಂಥೀಯರು. ಆಗಿರುವ ದುರಂತಗಳನ್ನು, ಹತ್ಯಾಕಾಂಡಗಳನ್ನು "ಆಗಲಿಲ್ಲ" ಎಂದೂ, ಆಗದ ಆಕ್ರಮಣಗಳನ್ನು "ಆಗಿದೆ" ಎಂದೂ ಸಾರುತ್ತಿರುವ, ಅದನ್ನೇ ನಂಬಿರುವ ವ್ಯಕ್ತಿಗಳು. ಒಂದು ಕೋಮಿನವರ ಮನಸ್ಸಂತೋಷಕ್ಕಾಗಿ ಮತ್ತೊಂದು ಕೋಮಿನವರನ್ನು ತುಳಿಯುವ ಮನಸ್ಸುಳ್ಳವರು. ಹಿಂದೂ-ಮುಸ್ಲಿಮರ ಸ್ನೇಹ ಭಾರತೀಯರಾದ ಎಲ್ಲರಿಗೂ ಬೇಕಾದುದು. ಈ ಸ್ನೇಹ ಸತ್ಯದ ಬುನಾದಿಯ ಮೇಲೆ ನಿಲ್ಲಬೇಕೆಂಬುದು ಭೈರಪ್ಪನವರ ಮತ. ಹೌದು, ಇಸ್ಲಾಂ ಭಾರತದಲ್ಲಿರುವಷ್ಟು ಬೇರೆಲ್ಲೂ ವರ್ಣರಂಜಿತವಾಗಿಲ್ಲ. ಆದರೆ ಇನ್ನೂ ಮುಸ್ಲಿಮರಲ್ಲಿ ಬಹುಪತ್ನೀತ್ವ, ಮೂರು ಬಾರಿ ಹೇಳುವ ತಲಾಕ್ ಜಾರಿಯಲ್ಲಿದೆ. Uniform Civil Code ನ ಕನಸು ಕನಸಾಗಿಯೇ ಉಳಿದಿದೆ. ನಮ್ಮ ವಾಮಪಂಥೀಯರಿಗೋ ಇದು ಹೀಗೆಯೇ ಉಳಿಯಲಿ ಎಂದು. ಕಾಲಕ್ಕನುಗುಣವಾಗಿ ಮುಸ್ಲಿಮರೂ ಬದಲಾಗುವುದು ಬೇಡವೇ? ಹೌದು, ಕಬೀರ್, ಶಿರ್ಡಿಯ ಸಾಯಿಬಾಬಾ ಮುಂತಾದ ಕಾರಣಜನ್ಮರ ಜನ್ಮ ಮತ್ತು ವೃದ್ಧಿ ಇಂತಹುದೇ ಪರಿಸ್ಥಿತಿಯಲ್ಲಿ ಆಯಿತು. ಆದರೆ ಇದನ್ನೇ ಮುಂದಿಟ್ಟುಕೊಂಡು "ಮೊಗಲರ ಆಳ್ವಿಕೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಹಿಂದೂಗಳು ಎಂದಿಗಿಂತ ಸಂತೋಷವಾಗಿದ್ದರು" ಎಂದು ಹೇಳಿದರೆ ಅದನ್ನು ಒಪ್ಪಲಾಗುತ್ತದೆಯೇ? ಔರಂಗಜೇಬ ಜೆಸಿಯಾ ವಿಧಿಸಿದ್ದು ಸುಳ್ಳಾಗುತ್ತದೆಯೇ?
ಮೂರ್ತಿಯವರು ತಮ್ಮೂರಿನ ದೇವಸ್ಥಾನಗಳನ್ನೆಲ್ಲವನ್ನೂ ಜೀರ್ಣೋದ್ಧಾರ ಮಾಡಿಸಿದ್ದು ಮಿರ್ಜಾ ಇಸ್ಮಾಯಿಲ್ ಸಾಹೇಬರು ಎಂದು ಮಾತಿನ ಮಧ್ಯೆ ಹೇಳಿದ್ದಾರೆ. ನಾನು ಇನ್ನೂ ಬಹಳಷ್ಟು ಉದಾಹರಣೆಗಳನ್ನು ಕೊಡಬಲ್ಲೆ. ಬಿ ಆರ್ ಚೋಪ್ರಾ ರವರ "ಮಹಾಭಾರತ್" ಧಾರಾವಾಹಿಯ ಸ್ಕ್ರಿಪ್ಟ್ ಬರೆದದ್ದು ರಾಹಿ ಮಾಸೂಮ್ ರಾಜಾ. ಹಿಂದಿಯ "ಬೈಜು ಬಾವ್ರಾ" ಚಿತ್ರದ 'ಮನ್ ತರ್ಪತ್ ಹರಿ ದರ್ಶನ್ ಕೋ ಆಜ್' ಗೀತೆಯನ್ನು ಬರೆದಿದ್ದು ಶಕೀಲ್ ಬದಾಯುನಿ, ಸಂಗೀತ ನಿರ್ದೇಶಕ ನೌಷಾದ್ ಮತ್ತು ಹಾಡಿದ್ದು ಮೊಹಮ್ಮದ್ ರಫಿ. ಆದರೆ ಇವರೆಲ್ಲರನ್ನೂ ಔರಂಗಜೇಬನನ್ನೂ ಹೋಲಿಸುವುದು ridiculous. ಭಾರತೀಯಮುಸಲ್ಮಾನರನೇಕರನ್ನು ನಾವು ನಮ್ಮವರೆಂದು ಕಂಡುಕೊಂಡಿರುವಂತೆಯೇ, ಹಾಗಿಲ್ಲದವರ ವರ್ತನೆಯನ್ನು (ವ್ಯಕ್ತಿಗಳನ್ನಲ್ಲ) ಖಂಡಿಸಬೇಕು. ಈ ದುಷ್ಕೃತ್ಯಗಳು ಹಿಂದೆ ಆಗಿವೆ ಎಂಬುದನ್ನು ಒಪ್ಪಿಕೊಳ್ಳಬೇಕು. ಆಗಲೇ ಸುಭದ್ರಸಮಾಜದ ನಿರ್ಮಾಣ ಸಾಧ್ಯ. ಹೀಗೆ ಆಗಬಾರದು ಎಂದು ಹೇಳುವವರಿಗೆ ಸಾಮಾಜಿಕ ಜವಾಬ್ದಾರಿ ಇಲ್ಲವೆಂದೇ ಹೇಳಬೇಕಾಗುತ್ತದೆ.
ಅನಂತಮೂರ್ತಿಯವರು ಮ್ಯಾಕ್ಬೆತ್ ಅನ್ನು ಷೇಕ್ಸ್ಪಿಯರ್ ನೋಡಿರುವ ರೀತಿಯನ್ನು ಉದಾಹರಿಸಿದ್ದಾರೆ. (ತನ್ಮೂಲಕ ಔರಂಗಜೇಬನನ್ನೂ ಮನುಷ್ಯನನ್ನಾಗಿ ನೋಡುವ ತಮ್ಮನ್ನು ಆ ಮಹಾಕವಿಯ ಜೊತೆ ಹೋಲಿಸಿಕೊಂಡಿದ್ದಾರೆ!) ಷೇಕ್ಸ್ಪಿಯರ್ ಮ್ಯಾಕ್ಬೆತ್ ನನ್ನು ಮನುಷ್ಯನನ್ನಾಗಿ ನೋಡಿದರೂ ಅವನು ಮಾಡಿದ ಕೊಲೆಯನ್ನು ಮರೆಮಾಚಲಿಲ್ಲ. ಆದರೆ ಆವರಣದ ಬಹುತೇಕ ಟೀಕಾಕಾರರು ಔರಂಗಜೇಬ ದೇವಸ್ಥಾನಗಳನ್ನು ನಾಶ ಪಡಿಸಲಿಲ್ಲವೆಂಬುದನ್ನೇ ಒರಲುತ್ತಾರೆ. ಅಥವಾ ನಾಶಪಡಿಸಿದುದನ್ನು ಈಗೇಕೆ ಹೇಳಬೇಕು ಎಂದು ಹೇಳುತ್ತಾರೆ. ತದ್ವಿರುದ್ಧವಾಗಿರುವ ಜರ್ಮನರ ವರ್ತನೆಯನ್ನು ನೋಡಿ. ನಾಜಿಗಳು ಯಹೂದ್ಯರ ಮೇಲೆ ನಡೆಸಿದ ಹತ್ಯಾಕಾಂಡವನ್ನು ಜರ್ಮನರುಎಂದೂ ಮರೆಮಾಚಲಿಲ್ಲ. ಹಾಗಾಗಿ ಅವರವರಲ್ಲಿ ಇಂದು ಶಾಂತಿಯಿದೆ. ಆದರೆ ಭಾರತದಲ್ಲಿ ಹಾಗೆ ಆಗಲಿಲ್ಲವಾದ್ದರಿಂದ ಹಿಂದೂ-ಮುಸ್ಲಿಮರ ನಡುವೆ ಇರಬೇಕಾದಷ್ಟು ಸೌಹಾರ್ದ ಇಲ್ಲವಾಗಿದೆ. ಇದಕ್ಕೆ ಕಾರಣ ಯಾರು?
ಗುಪ್ತರಾಗಲಿ ರಾಷ್ಟ್ರಕೂಟರಾಗಲಿ ರಜಪೂತರಾಗಲಿ ಮೊಗಲರಾಗಲಿ ಮರಾಠರಾಗಲಿ, ಎಲ್ಲರೂ ಸಾಮ್ರಾಜ್ಯಗಳನ್ನು ಕಟ್ಟಿ ಬೆಳೆಸಿದವರು. ಅವರೆಲ್ಲರಲ್ಲಿ ಗುಣಗಳಿದ್ದಂತೆ ಅವಗುಣಗಳೂ ಇದ್ದವು. ನಾವು ಗುಣಗಳನ್ನು ಒಪ್ಪಿಕೊಂಡಂತೆಯೇ ಅವಗುಣಗಳನ್ನೂ ಒಪ್ಪಿಕೊಳ್ಳಬೇಕು. ಇಲ್ಲದಿದ್ದರೆ ಚರಿತ್ರೆಯ ಮೂಲ ಉದ್ದೇಶಕ್ಕೇ ಕೊಡಲಿಯೇಟು ಬೀಳುತ್ತದೆ. ಹೊಸ ಚಿಗುರು ಹಳೆಯ ಬೇರಿನಿಂದಲೇ ಬರುವುದು. ಬೇರು ಸುಳ್ಳಿನದಾದರೆ ಗಿಡವೂ ಸುಳ್ಳೇ ಅಲ್ಲವೆ?
ಅನಂತಮೂರ್ತಿಯವರ ಭಾಷೆಯ ಬಗ್ಗೆ ನನಗೆ ಮೊದಲಿನಿಂದಲೂ ಮೆಚ್ಚುಗೆ-ಗೌರವಗಳಿವೆ. ಬಹಳ ಚೆನ್ನಾಗಿ ಬರೆಯುತ್ತಾರೆ. ಆದರೆ ಒಳಹೊಕ್ಕು ನೋಡಿದರೆ ಅವರದು ಸತ್ತ್ವವೇ ಇಲ್ಲದ ಬರವಣಿಗೆ. ಇದಕ್ಕೆ ಕಾರಣ ಅವರ ಪೂರ್ವಗ್ರಹಗಳು. ಅವರ ಪುಸ್ತಕಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ನೈಜತೆ ಕಾಣಸಿಗದು. ಒಂದು ಕಥೆಯನ್ನು ಹೇಳುವಾಗ, ಅದು ಪಾತ್ರಗಳ ಕಥೆಯಾಗಿರಬೇಕು. ಪಾತ್ರಗಳು ಲೇಖಕನ ಸೃಷ್ಟಿಯಾಗಿದ್ದರೂ ಅವರ ಕ್ರಿಯೆ-ಭಾವ-ಅಭಿಪ್ರಾಯಗಳು ಲೇಖಕನವಲ್ಲದೆ ಅವುಗಳದೇ ಆದರೆ ಅಂಥ ಕಥೆ ನೈಜ ಎನಿಸುತ್ತದೆ. ಅನಂತಮೂರ್ತಿಯವರ ಬರೆಹಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ಈ ಗುಣ ನನಗೆ ಕಾಣಲಿಲ್ಲ. ತಮಾಷೆಯೆಂದರೆ ಅನಂತಮೂರ್ತಿಯವರು ಭೈರಪ್ಪನವರನ್ನು ಈ ವಿಷಯವಾಗಿ ಟೀಕಿಸಿರುವುದು!
ಭೈರಪ್ಪನವರ ಪುಸ್ತಕಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ಕವಿತ್ವದ ಆರ್ದ್ರತೆ ಇಲ್ಲ ಎಂದು ಅನಂತಮೂರ್ತಿಯವರು ಹೇಳುವುದನ್ನು ಒಪ್ಪುತ್ತೇನೆ. ಅವರ ಭಾಷೆ ಸ್ವಲ್ಪ ಗ್ರಾಮ್ಯ. ಆದರೆ ಭೈರಪ್ಪನವರ ಬರೆಹಗಳು (ಅನಂತಮೂರ್ತಿಯವರೂ ಒಪ್ಪುವಂತೆ) ಅದು ಹೇಗೆ ಅಷ್ಟು ಜನಪ್ರಿಯವಾದವು? ಒಂದಂತೂ ನಿಜ. ಸತ್ತ್ವಹೀನಕೃತಿಗಳು ಒಮ್ಮೊಮ್ಮೆ ಪ್ರಸಿದ್ಧವಾಗಬಹುದಾದರೂ ಸರ್ವಕಾಲದಲ್ಲಿಯೂ ಒಂದು ಕೃತಿ ಪ್ರಸಿದ್ಧವಾಗಬೇಕಾದರೆ ಅದರಲ್ಲಿ ಅಂತಃಸತ್ತ್ವ, ವಿಚಾರಶೀಲತೆ ಮತ್ತು ಪ್ರಾಮಾಣಿಕತೆಗಳು ಇರಬೇಕು. ಭೈರಪ್ಪನವರ ಕೃತಿಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ಈ ಗುಣಗಳಿರುವುದರಿಂದ ಅವರ ಕೃತಿಗಳು ಅಷ್ಟು ಜನಪ್ರೀತಿಯನ್ನು ಗಳಿಸಿವೆ. ಕೆಲವರು ಆರೋಪಿಸಿರುವಂತೆ ಭೈರಪ್ಪನವರು ಬ್ರಾಹ್ಮಣಶ್ರೇಷ್ಠತೆಯನ್ನು ಪ್ರತಿಪಾದಿಸುವುದಿಲ್ಲ. ಹಾಗೆ ನೋಡಲು ಹೋದರೆ ಅವರು ಯಾವ ವಿಷಯವನ್ನೂ ಪ್ರತಿಪಾದಿಸುವುದಿಲ್ಲ. ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗಳನ್ನು ಮಾತ್ರ ನಮ್ಮ ಮುಂದಿಟ್ಟು ಉತ್ತರದ ಬಗ್ಗೆ ನಾವೇ ಯೋಚನೆ ಮಾಡುವಂತೆ ಮಾಡುತ್ತಾರೆ. ಇದು ಉತ್ತಮಲೇಖಕನ ಗುರುತು. ಉದಾಹರಣೆಗೆ, 'ದಾಟು' ವಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಅಂತರ್ಜಾತೀಯ ವಿವಾಹಗಳ ಬೇರೆಬೇರೆ ವಿಧಗಳನ್ನು, ಬೇರೆಬೇರೆ ಜಾತಿಯವರಿಗೆ ತಮ್ಮ ಜಾತಿಯ ಮತ್ತು ಅನ್ಯಜಾತಿಗಳ ಬಗ್ಗೆ ಇರುವ ಭಾವನೆಗಳನ್ನು ಕಥೆಯ ಹಂದರದಲ್ಲಿ ಹೆಣೆದು, ಈ ವಿಷಯಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ನಮ್ಮ ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆಗಳನ್ನು ಪ್ರಚೋದಿಸುತ್ತಾರೆ. ಉತ್ತರಗಳನ್ನು ಕಂಡುಹಿಡಿಯುವುದು ಅವರವರಿಗೆ ಬಿಟ್ಟಿದ್ದು!
ಹಾಗೆ ನೋಡಿದರೆ ಭೈರಪ್ಪನವರ ನಿಲುವು ಹೀಗೆಯೇ ಎಂದು ನಿಖರವಾಗಿ ಹೇಳಬಲ್ಲ ಪುಸ್ತಕ 'ಆವರಣ'. ಸಾಹಿತ್ಯದೃಷ್ಟ್ಯಾ ಇದು ಭೈರಪ್ಪನವರ ಉತ್ತಮಕೃತಿಯೆಂದು ಖಂಡಿತ ಹೇಳಲಾಗದು. ಆದರೆ ಇಲ್ಲಿ ವಿವರಿಸಿರುವ ವಿಚಾರಗಳು ನಮ್ಮ ಇಂದಿನ "ಸೆಕ್ಯುಲರ್" ಜನತೆಗೆ ಅಗತ್ಯವಾಗಿ ತಿಳಿಹೇಳಬೇಕಾದವು. ಸತ್ಯದ ಸಮಾಧಿಯ ಮೇಲೆ ಸುಳ್ಳಿನ ಗೋಪುರವನ್ನು ಕಟ್ಟಲು ಹೊರಟಿರುವವರು ನಮ್ಮ ಇಂದಿನ ವಾಮಪಂಥೀಯರು. ಆಗಿರುವ ದುರಂತಗಳನ್ನು, ಹತ್ಯಾಕಾಂಡಗಳನ್ನು "ಆಗಲಿಲ್ಲ" ಎಂದೂ, ಆಗದ ಆಕ್ರಮಣಗಳನ್ನು "ಆಗಿದೆ" ಎಂದೂ ಸಾರುತ್ತಿರುವ, ಅದನ್ನೇ ನಂಬಿರುವ ವ್ಯಕ್ತಿಗಳು. ಒಂದು ಕೋಮಿನವರ ಮನಸ್ಸಂತೋಷಕ್ಕಾಗಿ ಮತ್ತೊಂದು ಕೋಮಿನವರನ್ನು ತುಳಿಯುವ ಮನಸ್ಸುಳ್ಳವರು. ಹಿಂದೂ-ಮುಸ್ಲಿಮರ ಸ್ನೇಹ ಭಾರತೀಯರಾದ ಎಲ್ಲರಿಗೂ ಬೇಕಾದುದು. ಈ ಸ್ನೇಹ ಸತ್ಯದ ಬುನಾದಿಯ ಮೇಲೆ ನಿಲ್ಲಬೇಕೆಂಬುದು ಭೈರಪ್ಪನವರ ಮತ. ಹೌದು, ಇಸ್ಲಾಂ ಭಾರತದಲ್ಲಿರುವಷ್ಟು ಬೇರೆಲ್ಲೂ ವರ್ಣರಂಜಿತವಾಗಿಲ್ಲ. ಆದರೆ ಇನ್ನೂ ಮುಸ್ಲಿಮರಲ್ಲಿ ಬಹುಪತ್ನೀತ್ವ, ಮೂರು ಬಾರಿ ಹೇಳುವ ತಲಾಕ್ ಜಾರಿಯಲ್ಲಿದೆ. Uniform Civil Code ನ ಕನಸು ಕನಸಾಗಿಯೇ ಉಳಿದಿದೆ. ನಮ್ಮ ವಾಮಪಂಥೀಯರಿಗೋ ಇದು ಹೀಗೆಯೇ ಉಳಿಯಲಿ ಎಂದು. ಕಾಲಕ್ಕನುಗುಣವಾಗಿ ಮುಸ್ಲಿಮರೂ ಬದಲಾಗುವುದು ಬೇಡವೇ? ಹೌದು, ಕಬೀರ್, ಶಿರ್ಡಿಯ ಸಾಯಿಬಾಬಾ ಮುಂತಾದ ಕಾರಣಜನ್ಮರ ಜನ್ಮ ಮತ್ತು ವೃದ್ಧಿ ಇಂತಹುದೇ ಪರಿಸ್ಥಿತಿಯಲ್ಲಿ ಆಯಿತು. ಆದರೆ ಇದನ್ನೇ ಮುಂದಿಟ್ಟುಕೊಂಡು "ಮೊಗಲರ ಆಳ್ವಿಕೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಹಿಂದೂಗಳು ಎಂದಿಗಿಂತ ಸಂತೋಷವಾಗಿದ್ದರು" ಎಂದು ಹೇಳಿದರೆ ಅದನ್ನು ಒಪ್ಪಲಾಗುತ್ತದೆಯೇ? ಔರಂಗಜೇಬ ಜೆಸಿಯಾ ವಿಧಿಸಿದ್ದು ಸುಳ್ಳಾಗುತ್ತದೆಯೇ?
ಮೂರ್ತಿಯವರು ತಮ್ಮೂರಿನ ದೇವಸ್ಥಾನಗಳನ್ನೆಲ್ಲವನ್ನೂ ಜೀರ್ಣೋದ್ಧಾರ ಮಾಡಿಸಿದ್ದು ಮಿರ್ಜಾ ಇಸ್ಮಾಯಿಲ್ ಸಾಹೇಬರು ಎಂದು ಮಾತಿನ ಮಧ್ಯೆ ಹೇಳಿದ್ದಾರೆ. ನಾನು ಇನ್ನೂ ಬಹಳಷ್ಟು ಉದಾಹರಣೆಗಳನ್ನು ಕೊಡಬಲ್ಲೆ. ಬಿ ಆರ್ ಚೋಪ್ರಾ ರವರ "ಮಹಾಭಾರತ್" ಧಾರಾವಾಹಿಯ ಸ್ಕ್ರಿಪ್ಟ್ ಬರೆದದ್ದು ರಾಹಿ ಮಾಸೂಮ್ ರಾಜಾ. ಹಿಂದಿಯ "ಬೈಜು ಬಾವ್ರಾ" ಚಿತ್ರದ 'ಮನ್ ತರ್ಪತ್ ಹರಿ ದರ್ಶನ್ ಕೋ ಆಜ್' ಗೀತೆಯನ್ನು ಬರೆದಿದ್ದು ಶಕೀಲ್ ಬದಾಯುನಿ, ಸಂಗೀತ ನಿರ್ದೇಶಕ ನೌಷಾದ್ ಮತ್ತು ಹಾಡಿದ್ದು ಮೊಹಮ್ಮದ್ ರಫಿ. ಆದರೆ ಇವರೆಲ್ಲರನ್ನೂ ಔರಂಗಜೇಬನನ್ನೂ ಹೋಲಿಸುವುದು ridiculous. ಭಾರತೀಯಮುಸಲ್ಮಾನರನೇಕರನ್ನು ನಾವು ನಮ್ಮವರೆಂದು ಕಂಡುಕೊಂಡಿರುವಂತೆಯೇ, ಹಾಗಿಲ್ಲದವರ ವರ್ತನೆಯನ್ನು (ವ್ಯಕ್ತಿಗಳನ್ನಲ್ಲ) ಖಂಡಿಸಬೇಕು. ಈ ದುಷ್ಕೃತ್ಯಗಳು ಹಿಂದೆ ಆಗಿವೆ ಎಂಬುದನ್ನು ಒಪ್ಪಿಕೊಳ್ಳಬೇಕು. ಆಗಲೇ ಸುಭದ್ರಸಮಾಜದ ನಿರ್ಮಾಣ ಸಾಧ್ಯ. ಹೀಗೆ ಆಗಬಾರದು ಎಂದು ಹೇಳುವವರಿಗೆ ಸಾಮಾಜಿಕ ಜವಾಬ್ದಾರಿ ಇಲ್ಲವೆಂದೇ ಹೇಳಬೇಕಾಗುತ್ತದೆ.
ಅನಂತಮೂರ್ತಿಯವರು ಮ್ಯಾಕ್ಬೆತ್ ಅನ್ನು ಷೇಕ್ಸ್ಪಿಯರ್ ನೋಡಿರುವ ರೀತಿಯನ್ನು ಉದಾಹರಿಸಿದ್ದಾರೆ. (ತನ್ಮೂಲಕ ಔರಂಗಜೇಬನನ್ನೂ ಮನುಷ್ಯನನ್ನಾಗಿ ನೋಡುವ ತಮ್ಮನ್ನು ಆ ಮಹಾಕವಿಯ ಜೊತೆ ಹೋಲಿಸಿಕೊಂಡಿದ್ದಾರೆ!) ಷೇಕ್ಸ್ಪಿಯರ್ ಮ್ಯಾಕ್ಬೆತ್ ನನ್ನು ಮನುಷ್ಯನನ್ನಾಗಿ ನೋಡಿದರೂ ಅವನು ಮಾಡಿದ ಕೊಲೆಯನ್ನು ಮರೆಮಾಚಲಿಲ್ಲ. ಆದರೆ ಆವರಣದ ಬಹುತೇಕ ಟೀಕಾಕಾರರು ಔರಂಗಜೇಬ ದೇವಸ್ಥಾನಗಳನ್ನು ನಾಶ ಪಡಿಸಲಿಲ್ಲವೆಂಬುದನ್ನೇ ಒರಲುತ್ತಾರೆ. ಅಥವಾ ನಾಶಪಡಿಸಿದುದನ್ನು ಈಗೇಕೆ ಹೇಳಬೇಕು ಎಂದು ಹೇಳುತ್ತಾರೆ. ತದ್ವಿರುದ್ಧವಾಗಿರುವ ಜರ್ಮನರ ವರ್ತನೆಯನ್ನು ನೋಡಿ. ನಾಜಿಗಳು ಯಹೂದ್ಯರ ಮೇಲೆ ನಡೆಸಿದ ಹತ್ಯಾಕಾಂಡವನ್ನು ಜರ್ಮನರುಎಂದೂ ಮರೆಮಾಚಲಿಲ್ಲ. ಹಾಗಾಗಿ ಅವರವರಲ್ಲಿ ಇಂದು ಶಾಂತಿಯಿದೆ. ಆದರೆ ಭಾರತದಲ್ಲಿ ಹಾಗೆ ಆಗಲಿಲ್ಲವಾದ್ದರಿಂದ ಹಿಂದೂ-ಮುಸ್ಲಿಮರ ನಡುವೆ ಇರಬೇಕಾದಷ್ಟು ಸೌಹಾರ್ದ ಇಲ್ಲವಾಗಿದೆ. ಇದಕ್ಕೆ ಕಾರಣ ಯಾರು?
ಗುಪ್ತರಾಗಲಿ ರಾಷ್ಟ್ರಕೂಟರಾಗಲಿ ರಜಪೂತರಾಗಲಿ ಮೊಗಲರಾಗಲಿ ಮರಾಠರಾಗಲಿ, ಎಲ್ಲರೂ ಸಾಮ್ರಾಜ್ಯಗಳನ್ನು ಕಟ್ಟಿ ಬೆಳೆಸಿದವರು. ಅವರೆಲ್ಲರಲ್ಲಿ ಗುಣಗಳಿದ್ದಂತೆ ಅವಗುಣಗಳೂ ಇದ್ದವು. ನಾವು ಗುಣಗಳನ್ನು ಒಪ್ಪಿಕೊಂಡಂತೆಯೇ ಅವಗುಣಗಳನ್ನೂ ಒಪ್ಪಿಕೊಳ್ಳಬೇಕು. ಇಲ್ಲದಿದ್ದರೆ ಚರಿತ್ರೆಯ ಮೂಲ ಉದ್ದೇಶಕ್ಕೇ ಕೊಡಲಿಯೇಟು ಬೀಳುತ್ತದೆ. ಹೊಸ ಚಿಗುರು ಹಳೆಯ ಬೇರಿನಿಂದಲೇ ಬರುವುದು. ಬೇರು ಸುಳ್ಳಿನದಾದರೆ ಗಿಡವೂ ಸುಳ್ಳೇ ಅಲ್ಲವೆ?
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
What a man!
There are few people who deserve the above exclamation, and Sir C.V. Raman is one among them. I just finished reading "Raman and his Effect" by Dr. G. Venkataraman, and it has left me dazzled by one of the most brilliant gems India has produced. I knew next to nothing about Sir C.V before I read this book. I knew that he was a great scientist, knew about his work on acoustics and a little about the Raman effect. What I did not know about the man was his ego, his passion for Science, his love for India, his admiration for roses and minerals and diamonds, and his ego...
Raman is most celebrated for the discovery of the Raman effect . The story of its discovery is interesting. On his way back from his first ever trip abroad, Raman saw the blueness of the Mediterranean sea and wondered why it was. At that time, it was thought that the sea reflected the sky, and the particles in the sea-water absorbed light themselves. The accepted theory was that together, they gave large water bodies their characteristic blue color. But now, Raman had his own doubts. He always carried useful instruments with him, and he made some experiments right there, on the steamer. He then concluded that the water molecules were scattering the light incident upon them. During scattering, the frequency of the light altered, giving rise to the blue colour of the ocean. Raman Effect was thus discovered, and now has its applications in optical communication and analysis of materials, among others.
Perhaps lesser known is the work Raman did on Acoustics. He discovered how the mridangam and the tabla could generate actual musical notes, unlike other drums. He poured fine sand on the instruments immediately after striking them, and by observing the patterns formed by the grains, made fascinating discoveries about the harmonic nature of sounds produced by these instruments.
As a scientist, Raman had to be content with the less-than-adequate amenities he was provided. He was a true engineer. When there were no electric lights in the institute, he used sunlight for his optical experiments. That was Raman, never daunted by mundane, practically un-solvable problems such as poor infrastructure. His solution was simple - supplement the lack of infrastructure with the brilliance of the mind!
Raman's ego was proportional to his brilliance as a scientist. This mammoth-sized-ego was probably justified, probably, because he really was one of the best physicists of the time... After successfully completing the interview for the Assistant Account General's position at Calcutta, Raman said -"I took one look at all the candidates there and knew that I was going to stand first", and indeed he did. And what can you say about the confidence, nay, ego of the man who reserved steamer tickets to Europe in July for the Nobel awarding ceremony, even though they were only going to be announced in November!
There are a few other interesting anecdotes in the book, a couple of which I would like to share. A small boy once asked Raman if he was not ashamed of his turban, while travelling abroad. Raman then related this experience of his. When in London, he attended a lecture of Ernest Rutherford's. He happened to reach the place a little late, and was looking for a seat in the benches at the back. Rutherford then addressed him by his name, and invited him to come and sit in the front. He had recognized Raman because of the Madrasi turban! How could he be ashamed of his turban when it had served as a mark of identification? Another anecdote goes thus. While at IISc, Raman gave a problem in Spectroscopy to his student. The next day, he found the student sitting dejected. When asked why, the student replied "Another person is working on the same problem at UK. He has a 100 kW light, whereas I have only a 10 kW light". To this, Raman retorted "It does not matter, put a 100 kW brain on it!". Simple, ain't it?
In addition to being a great scientist, Sir C.V was also appreciative of Nature's beauty and bounty. He loved to collect diamonds and other crystals (in keeping with his passion for
optics). He grew a variety of flowers both at home and at Raman Research Institute. He states "I regard as the greatest feature of the world Nature herself. She is the supreme artist; she creates forms of beauty, loveliness and color, unsurpassable..."
I hope I have given at least a snippet (however small it may be), of the man who was perhaps as wonderful a person as he was a scientist, inspiring respect and awe in millions of seekers of knowledge. As I am writing this, my head bows in reverence to his great intellect. Little wonder that we celebrate February 28th as the National Science day. That was the day when Raman announced his Raman Effect to the world.
A note about the book itself. This book is one of a series, 'Vignettes in Physics', written by Dr.G. Venkataraman. The author received the Padmashri for the popularization of Science. 'Vignettes in Physics' satiates the curiosity of the ordinary reader and arouses interest in those serious about Physics. The author fondly calls it the "Junior Feynman series". Though this is the first book in this series that I have read seriously, I feel that it is excellent for people like me - who really want to delve deeper into Physics but do not have the time to study the Feynman lectures. Other books in this series are about the Chandrasekhar limit (Note: Raman was Chandrasekhar's uncle), QED, Bhabha, Saha, Quantum theory, etc. I am quite sure that each and every one of them will be an interesting read.
Raman is most celebrated for the discovery of the Raman effect . The story of its discovery is interesting. On his way back from his first ever trip abroad, Raman saw the blueness of the Mediterranean sea and wondered why it was. At that time, it was thought that the sea reflected the sky, and the particles in the sea-water absorbed light themselves. The accepted theory was that together, they gave large water bodies their characteristic blue color. But now, Raman had his own doubts. He always carried useful instruments with him, and he made some experiments right there, on the steamer. He then concluded that the water molecules were scattering the light incident upon them. During scattering, the frequency of the light altered, giving rise to the blue colour of the ocean. Raman Effect was thus discovered, and now has its applications in optical communication and analysis of materials, among others.
Perhaps lesser known is the work Raman did on Acoustics. He discovered how the mridangam and the tabla could generate actual musical notes, unlike other drums. He poured fine sand on the instruments immediately after striking them, and by observing the patterns formed by the grains, made fascinating discoveries about the harmonic nature of sounds produced by these instruments.
As a scientist, Raman had to be content with the less-than-adequate amenities he was provided. He was a true engineer. When there were no electric lights in the institute, he used sunlight for his optical experiments. That was Raman, never daunted by mundane, practically un-solvable problems such as poor infrastructure. His solution was simple - supplement the lack of infrastructure with the brilliance of the mind!
Raman's ego was proportional to his brilliance as a scientist. This mammoth-sized-ego was probably justified, probably, because he really was one of the best physicists of the time... After successfully completing the interview for the Assistant Account General's position at Calcutta, Raman said -"I took one look at all the candidates there and knew that I was going to stand first", and indeed he did. And what can you say about the confidence, nay, ego of the man who reserved steamer tickets to Europe in July for the Nobel awarding ceremony, even though they were only going to be announced in November!
There are a few other interesting anecdotes in the book, a couple of which I would like to share. A small boy once asked Raman if he was not ashamed of his turban, while travelling abroad. Raman then related this experience of his. When in London, he attended a lecture of Ernest Rutherford's. He happened to reach the place a little late, and was looking for a seat in the benches at the back. Rutherford then addressed him by his name, and invited him to come and sit in the front. He had recognized Raman because of the Madrasi turban! How could he be ashamed of his turban when it had served as a mark of identification? Another anecdote goes thus. While at IISc, Raman gave a problem in Spectroscopy to his student. The next day, he found the student sitting dejected. When asked why, the student replied "Another person is working on the same problem at UK. He has a 100 kW light, whereas I have only a 10 kW light". To this, Raman retorted "It does not matter, put a 100 kW brain on it!". Simple, ain't it?
In addition to being a great scientist, Sir C.V was also appreciative of Nature's beauty and bounty. He loved to collect diamonds and other crystals (in keeping with his passion for
optics). He grew a variety of flowers both at home and at Raman Research Institute. He states "I regard as the greatest feature of the world Nature herself. She is the supreme artist; she creates forms of beauty, loveliness and color, unsurpassable..."
I hope I have given at least a snippet (however small it may be), of the man who was perhaps as wonderful a person as he was a scientist, inspiring respect and awe in millions of seekers of knowledge. As I am writing this, my head bows in reverence to his great intellect. Little wonder that we celebrate February 28th as the National Science day. That was the day when Raman announced his Raman Effect to the world.
A note about the book itself. This book is one of a series, 'Vignettes in Physics', written by Dr.G. Venkataraman. The author received the Padmashri for the popularization of Science. 'Vignettes in Physics' satiates the curiosity of the ordinary reader and arouses interest in those serious about Physics. The author fondly calls it the "Junior Feynman series". Though this is the first book in this series that I have read seriously, I feel that it is excellent for people like me - who really want to delve deeper into Physics but do not have the time to study the Feynman lectures. Other books in this series are about the Chandrasekhar limit (Note: Raman was Chandrasekhar's uncle), QED, Bhabha, Saha, Quantum theory, etc. I am quite sure that each and every one of them will be an interesting read.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Atonement by Ian McEwan
This past couple of weeks, I have really been pondering about wars. I happened to read Ian McEwan's novel, "Atonement", and it put into perspective wars, big and small. Till now, I have felt sorry for most of the wars I have read about, in a sort of distant way - the world wars, the Civil war and their aftermaths. Even the Indian war of independence, for all the patriotic feelings it generated in me was - well, just a statistic. What mattered was who lost and who won, and how many people were killed. This book changed the statistics to something very personal. Each person who died in all these cataclysms was some body's husband or wife, lover, sibling or parent. To an extent, the movies "Life is Beautiful" and "Border" try to do it too, but "Atonement" is in a class by itself.
Atonement is the story of Briony, a thirteen-year old girl in 1935. How her precocious imagination brings about a crime, and how she atones for it, is the backbone of the novel. The story itself is simple. What makes the novel so very enjoyable is the lyrical words used by McEwan. He has a great gift for words, and is capable of painting pictures with his pen. Pictures so real that we are transported to a different time and place, and made to feel the characters' emotions as our own. Another great point about Atonement is its naturalness. All events happen one after the other in natural succession. We do not see McEwan thrusting his ideas upon any of the characters, though they are the products of his imagination. We always feel that the characters speak and act of their own accord, not because McEwan wills it.
Perhaps what impressed me most in the novel, was the description of WWII. Robbie Turner, one of the main characters in 'Atonement', is recruited by the English army and sent to fight for France. But the English army cannot match the German onslaught, and a retreat is ordered. While getting to Dunkirk from his station, he witnesses much destruction. He sees a child's leg, just a leg dangling from a tree, and it makes him sick. He tries to rescue a mother and her child from German bombing, but fails. There is hopelessness, death and distress everywhere. The soldiers smoke to keep hunger away, and water is scarce. The taunts and concern of his companions, the attitude of soldiers desperate for food, drink, rest and love make a deep impact on him, and us. The mind boggles when one thinks of the enormity of the carnage caused by the second world war. So many lives lost, so many hearts torn asunder because of the fancies of just one madman who happened to be ambitious and powerful! I used to consider the 'peace and no change' concept simplistic, but since reading this book, I have almost become a pacifist (contrary to my liking). Now, when I think about war, I see the dangling leg of a child in my mind's eye, and it really hurts.
'Atonement' was also in the news for wrong reasons. McEwan was accused of plagiarism . This accusation notwithstanding, I loved the chapter on the nurses' work. Service to the patients while not minding their own physical difficulties is what they learn during probation. They wear neck-biting uniforms, inhale disinfectants all day and their identity is reduced to just a badge...
McEwan uses the name 'Turner' for Robbie throughout the war-description. At the hospital, the nurses are not allowed to reveal their first names to the patients; it is an unwritten rule. That is how war and death are. First names and personal details, emotions, ideas and everything else that make one human life distinct from another are completely obliterated. One just becomes one of many, just a statistic.
There is one aspect of war, positive to some. That is economic revamping. Some businesses thrive during war and after war (I suppose that is why wars are made!). I started wondering about the ethics of manufacturing chocolate bars to distribute in the army (and actually wanting the war to happen, so this chocolate-bar-business may thrive), but I did not get anywhere. I go one way, and it is communism that I detest. And the other way does not look good either. My question is, where does the layperson stand, when it comes to issues like this? Is a person allowed to be selfish? If so, how selfish can (s)he be, without transgressing ethical and moral boundaries? This is a question that does not have an answer.
'Atonement' is a great novel. It is a serious book, definitely worth a serious read. I did not particularly like the ending, though. It leaves one with a calm but yet sinking sort of feeling, and my Indian mind would have been more at ease if the ending were a little more cheery. But perhaps it is just as well... When life itself ends in tragedy so many times, why shouldn't a novel?
Atonement is the story of Briony, a thirteen-year old girl in 1935. How her precocious imagination brings about a crime, and how she atones for it, is the backbone of the novel. The story itself is simple. What makes the novel so very enjoyable is the lyrical words used by McEwan. He has a great gift for words, and is capable of painting pictures with his pen. Pictures so real that we are transported to a different time and place, and made to feel the characters' emotions as our own. Another great point about Atonement is its naturalness. All events happen one after the other in natural succession. We do not see McEwan thrusting his ideas upon any of the characters, though they are the products of his imagination. We always feel that the characters speak and act of their own accord, not because McEwan wills it.
Perhaps what impressed me most in the novel, was the description of WWII. Robbie Turner, one of the main characters in 'Atonement', is recruited by the English army and sent to fight for France. But the English army cannot match the German onslaught, and a retreat is ordered. While getting to Dunkirk from his station, he witnesses much destruction. He sees a child's leg, just a leg dangling from a tree, and it makes him sick. He tries to rescue a mother and her child from German bombing, but fails. There is hopelessness, death and distress everywhere. The soldiers smoke to keep hunger away, and water is scarce. The taunts and concern of his companions, the attitude of soldiers desperate for food, drink, rest and love make a deep impact on him, and us. The mind boggles when one thinks of the enormity of the carnage caused by the second world war. So many lives lost, so many hearts torn asunder because of the fancies of just one madman who happened to be ambitious and powerful! I used to consider the 'peace and no change' concept simplistic, but since reading this book, I have almost become a pacifist (contrary to my liking). Now, when I think about war, I see the dangling leg of a child in my mind's eye, and it really hurts.
'Atonement' was also in the news for wrong reasons. McEwan was accused of plagiarism . This accusation notwithstanding, I loved the chapter on the nurses' work. Service to the patients while not minding their own physical difficulties is what they learn during probation. They wear neck-biting uniforms, inhale disinfectants all day and their identity is reduced to just a badge...
McEwan uses the name 'Turner' for Robbie throughout the war-description. At the hospital, the nurses are not allowed to reveal their first names to the patients; it is an unwritten rule. That is how war and death are. First names and personal details, emotions, ideas and everything else that make one human life distinct from another are completely obliterated. One just becomes one of many, just a statistic.
There is one aspect of war, positive to some. That is economic revamping. Some businesses thrive during war and after war (I suppose that is why wars are made!). I started wondering about the ethics of manufacturing chocolate bars to distribute in the army (and actually wanting the war to happen, so this chocolate-bar-business may thrive), but I did not get anywhere. I go one way, and it is communism that I detest. And the other way does not look good either. My question is, where does the layperson stand, when it comes to issues like this? Is a person allowed to be selfish? If so, how selfish can (s)he be, without transgressing ethical and moral boundaries? This is a question that does not have an answer.
'Atonement' is a great novel. It is a serious book, definitely worth a serious read. I did not particularly like the ending, though. It leaves one with a calm but yet sinking sort of feeling, and my Indian mind would have been more at ease if the ending were a little more cheery. But perhaps it is just as well... When life itself ends in tragedy so many times, why shouldn't a novel?
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Malnad Trip
It is amazing how something as common as a cool breeze (refreshing, but common nevertheless) can take one on a nostalgic trip down memory lane. It happened to me when I was returning from work today evening. It was very cloudy, and considering the weather for the past few days, it was very cool. I was sitting in the car, looking at the trees passing us by on either side. And suddenly I realized how cool it was today, just like it was when I visited Malnad, a few years ago.
I have acknowledged elsewhere, I think, that I have this strange affinity towards malenaaDu. My trips were few and short, but when walking around there, I have felt at least as local as the locals themselves. I feel that every tree and every rock there speaks to me in a language that I understand. The rain (this trip, the one I enjoyed most, was in June and it was raining hard) could deter others from venturing out, but not me. A part of my mind has lived there, enjoying and worshipping the pristine beauty of the hills and the valleys of malenaaDu every day, before I even saw the place for the first time.
We went to Kukke Subramanya first and the same evening, we went to Dharmasthala. Thence we went to Beltangadi via the picturesque Charmudi ghats. We then went to Horanaadu and from there, to Sringeri. It was then back-to-Bangalore from there. The interesting thing about this trip was not so much about the deities and the temples in the places we visited. That was there, of course, but what is making me nostalgic is the route we took. We happened to take local buses everywhere. I did not want to hire a private vehicle, because then I would remain an outsider. This cost us some time, but it was worth it. A couple of the drivers of the buses stopped at some places, to let me take photographs.
The beautiful Malnad becomes greener and more beautiful during the rainy season. The already thick forests become thicker. The hills and the trees bathe, now in the pouring rain and then in the sunlight. When it rains, it is hard to even see one's hands. The roads are lined on either side with thick trees, a la wooden grills. Clouds rest languidly in the verdant valleys, unwilling to rise up. Here and there, one sees solitary houses. Every couple of kilometres, there is a small, often shy waterfall. Ah... if any place on Earth can be called Elysium, Malnad should be one of the contenders.
A couple of lines from a poem of Prof.Nissar Ahmed's, come to mind -
ಈ ಘಳಿಗೆಯೆ ಮೈ ತಾಳಿತು ಎನುವಂತಿದೆ ಲೋಕ
ಇಡಿ ಸೃಷ್ಟಿಯೆ ಸೊಗವಾಂತಿದೆ, ಸಮಯವೇ ನಸು ನಿಂತಂತಿದೆ
ಬಾ ಮಾಡಿಸು ಕಣ್ಮನಗಳಿಗಾನಂದದ ಅಭಿಷೇಕ
I do not know if I can make another trip like this ever again, in spite of my yearning. All I have now are the wonderful pictures, enshrined in my mind. I do not think that I can ever forget them.
I have acknowledged elsewhere, I think, that I have this strange affinity towards malenaaDu. My trips were few and short, but when walking around there, I have felt at least as local as the locals themselves. I feel that every tree and every rock there speaks to me in a language that I understand. The rain (this trip, the one I enjoyed most, was in June and it was raining hard) could deter others from venturing out, but not me. A part of my mind has lived there, enjoying and worshipping the pristine beauty of the hills and the valleys of malenaaDu every day, before I even saw the place for the first time.
We went to Kukke Subramanya first and the same evening, we went to Dharmasthala. Thence we went to Beltangadi via the picturesque Charmudi ghats. We then went to Horanaadu and from there, to Sringeri. It was then back-to-Bangalore from there. The interesting thing about this trip was not so much about the deities and the temples in the places we visited. That was there, of course, but what is making me nostalgic is the route we took. We happened to take local buses everywhere. I did not want to hire a private vehicle, because then I would remain an outsider. This cost us some time, but it was worth it. A couple of the drivers of the buses stopped at some places, to let me take photographs.
The beautiful Malnad becomes greener and more beautiful during the rainy season. The already thick forests become thicker. The hills and the trees bathe, now in the pouring rain and then in the sunlight. When it rains, it is hard to even see one's hands. The roads are lined on either side with thick trees, a la wooden grills. Clouds rest languidly in the verdant valleys, unwilling to rise up. Here and there, one sees solitary houses. Every couple of kilometres, there is a small, often shy waterfall. Ah... if any place on Earth can be called Elysium, Malnad should be one of the contenders.
A couple of lines from a poem of Prof.Nissar Ahmed's, come to mind -
ಈ ಘಳಿಗೆಯೆ ಮೈ ತಾಳಿತು ಎನುವಂತಿದೆ ಲೋಕ
ಇಡಿ ಸೃಷ್ಟಿಯೆ ಸೊಗವಾಂತಿದೆ, ಸಮಯವೇ ನಸು ನಿಂತಂತಿದೆ
ಬಾ ಮಾಡಿಸು ಕಣ್ಮನಗಳಿಗಾನಂದದ ಅಭಿಷೇಕ
I do not know if I can make another trip like this ever again, in spite of my yearning. All I have now are the wonderful pictures, enshrined in my mind. I do not think that I can ever forget them.
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