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
CARE
TODAY
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.