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As land hassles stem the flow of NRI investment in Punjab, the Government takes steps to ease the legal woes of expatriates.

 

 
WEB ONLY FEATURES
The rampant misuse of the Dalit Act in Uttar Pradesh has a larger malaise behind it, writes India Today's Subhash Mishra
UNDUE ADVANTAGE
 
INDIA TODAY CONCLAVE

The Conclave concludes on a high note. Al Gore, Stanley Fischer and other world leaders listen and are heard. Catch up on the highlights.
Take me to Conclave now
 
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INDIA TODAY HINDI
 
 
 
 CURRENT ISSUE APRIL 14, 2003  

BOOKS

Cautionary Tale

Khushwant Singh's doomsday pamphlet

By Dilip bobb

This book should come with a statutory warning: not to be read by people with weak hearts. This is apocalypse now. In the sunset of his writing career, Khushwant Singh is shrouded in darkness. The End of India is bawdy, lovable raconteur-turned-doomsayer. If bedtime reading is your bag, this is guaranteed to provide instant nightmares or prompt you to make your last will and testament and perform the last rites.

THE END OF INDIA
By Khushwant Singh Penguin Price: Rs 200 Pages: 163

Somehow, the doomsday clock ticking away on Khushwant's desk doesn't ring right. Nor does his logic. Certainly recent events, most notably the rise of Hindu militancy, are a cause for concern. But no one can seriously buy his argument that the country is about to break up. The villains of his piece, Pravin Togadia, Uma Bharati, Narendra Modi, Bal Thackeray and their fellow travellers are real enough but fascism has not replaced democracy and the rule of law, as Khushwant would have us believe. Nor is secularism dead and buried amid the ruins of Ayodhya. India's best loved author admits that he has written this book, more a pamphlet really, amid bouts of depression. But even so, it is an overly pessimistic view of contemporary India.

The cause of his angst is clearly the rise of Modi and Hindu fundamentalism spearheaded by the more rabid elements of the Sangh Parivar. Made more dangerous, he feels, with a BJP government at the helm. He delves into history to expose the roots of communalism and the emergence of religious fanatics like Jarnail Singh Bhindranwale, reincarnated, as the author perceives it, as Modi.

Khushwant as author carries credibility, as a pamphleteer, less so. His solutions are simplistic: revive the Nehruvian notion of secularism, restructure the police force so that minority communities are over-represented, summary trials for perpetuators of communal violence and, most ambitious of all, create a new religion. The image of Khushwant as a prophet of doom is not a reassuring one. Maybe age has something to do with his dark and dangerous pessimism. India has survived greater crises and emerged with its vital organs intact. There is not yet reason to believe that the BJP, with A.B.Vajpayee at its head, will replace the Kohlapuri chappal with the fascist jackboot. Yet, for all his over-the-top gloomsaying, there are warning bells here that need to be heard. The End of India is, essentially, a cautionary tale.


AUTHORSPEAK
PETER COLACO
City Slicker

It is the nostalgia for a city. In Bangalore: A Century of Tales from City and Cantonment, Peter Colaco travels past historical layers across 100 years-if the city is now the centre of cyber technology, once it opened portals to "horse carriages in East Parade or even bicycle riders in areas like Jayanagar". In this first-person account of the city he has grown up with, one of the most poignant moments is when Colaco remembers the changed facade of his ancestral home.

For adman Colaco, 58, the house and the city have been the constants in his life. It was especially so for the young Colaco as he changed schools across the country. Like the city, its chronicler was on the move, in many ways. Though he qualified for the IAS, he resigned after six months in Mussoorie and joined the Tata Administrative Service. Then he had brief stints in journalism and since 1989 has been scripting and directing short training films for management and rural development. If Colaco had remained in the IAS, says a friend, bemused, he would have done a good job writing district gazetteers. But the adman has got his copy right, sometimes touching, sometimes hilarious, A Century (Via Media) reminds one of Fazlul Hasan's Bangalore Through the Centuries or Elizabeth Stale's photos of Monkey Tops, the old buildings in Bangalore Cantonment. The anecdotes are made vivid by Paul Fernandes' watercolour sketches-from the Snaize family of undertakers and the cemeteries near Langford Town to gracious bungalows being gobbled up by match-box flats and business centres.

Across history's bylanes, Colaco culls memories of a good old age "when temples, mosques and churches were the familiar landscape of our childhood and despite our ignorance of each other's customs, in Gandhi's and Nehru's India, we were proud of our mixed democracy". It is there that he seeks and finds redemption. "The broad central avenue, canopied by raintrees, had a mosque at one end," says Colaco. "It was called Mosque Road, but its inhabitants were a mix of communities." Delve into the book for a light read: the town crier makes his way across the past and the present.

-Stephen David

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