Of changing times and systems
It’s perfectly safe to suggest that nothing changes in India. Consider any component of this vast country and you’ll bear witness to its degradation. Bureaucracy? Check. Governance? Check. Infrastructure? Check. Journalism? Double check. Does this mean that we are in decline? No, the answer is a bit more complex. Decay, for lack of a better analogy, can still be a sign of life. Compared to the photoshopped good ol’ days, things tend to appear worse. But on closer inspection, we ought to admit that the road to redemption is already blocked by our skewed understanding of history. We see what we like to see and we hear what pleases our ears. We aren’t interested in building bridges — the symptom of otherness has gripped completely — as we’ve moved on far too long. Our fingers don’t unite for a handshake anymore. And thanks to the massive sample sizes ready-made available in India for all sorts of narratives, it becomes enormously difficult to see what’s going on. This could explain why our policy makers don’t have a clue what must work across the board. This could also explain why most of our poll experts bang it wrong almost all the time.
Journalism isn’t dead yet. It is simply dying. Particularly in countries like India where, in the name of alternate voice, we have been seeing naked display of propaganda. As if state-run media machineries like Press Information Bureau (PIB) and Prasar Bharati weren’t enough — granted the exposure commoners had on the internet thanks to mobile data explosion in Tier 2/3/4 cities, maybe they aren’t enough to stay in power — several channels have mushroomed over the past couple of years. Although the focus, for electoral reasons, remains on Hindi-speaking audiences, vernacular options aren’t leaving much to imagination. The tentacles of WhatsApp University have made sure that there is enough fodder to keep the masses engrossed with vain events. If we wish to topple this cart of misinformation and disinformation — please learn the difference between the two — then we ought to resuscitate Journalism. And by that, I mean, we must start paying for honest information. Enough of putting journalists on pedestal but not paying enough. If you think it’s fair to buy a 50-pages newspaper at ₹5, then you deserve to attend Journalism’s funeral.
Since we are talking about the facade of free press, let’s spend a few seconds on why mass media, especially television, remains enamoured by endless (and shameless) circus of falsehood. In my view, there are two reasons. First and foremost, the consumers don’t bother themselves with nuance at all and the producers know this fiber very well. In lieu of explaining how the economy works — presumably a tough job for the presenters to explain and a tougher job for the audience to absorb — it’s best to find an enemy/scapegoat when something breaks. Semi-literate folks (literate folks are no better) are more interested in the effigy being burnt; they don’t have the mental bandwidth to learn the deeper mechanisms of any system, be it institution of any repute. Secondly, as a nation, we have been least interested in knowing ourselves. So, when all of a sudden, some hatemongering journalist on TV tells us that XYZ is the reason why our great country is in turmoil, people believe blindly. In reality, they are overcompensating for their general lack of concern for India. Which, interestingly, glues well with the first point of locating an enemy — could be illegal immigrants today, would be a specific community tomorrow. That’s how low our collective intelligence has been dragged down to by the powers-to-be. Can’t really blame as we are hungry for entertainment and the media provides measured doses of endorphin and epinephrine. If you haven’t figured it out by now, please be assured that people watch Arnab for the same reason they watch once watched Word Wrestling Federation (WWF).
The Germans came up with the word ‘schadenfreude’ keeping in mind India and Pakistan. Here are two massive turds who are obsessed with each other but not in the spirit Messi and Ronaldo are with each other. Instead of being competitive (read: progressive), the current milieu is filled with delight for the neighbour’s failure. Of course, we can’t immediately aim for bilateral relationship to sweeten up to Scandinavian levels but with the ongoing political equations, we are bound to fester hostility for the foreseeable future. What this sorry state of affairs translates to on-ground reality is moot: little to negligible trade. That said, there are all kinds of scums on social media. Some idiot from Karachi will post a Ghazwa-e-Hind map which, for reasons diabolical, feature Myanmar. To counter, some cretin from the sister city Bombay will post an Akhand Bharat map, which for reasons treacherous, excludes J&K. This petty table tennis of hogwash turns vile when some Pakistanis display joy on the confirmation of coronavirus in Kerala. And to rebut, some Indians would show their mirth at Pakistani government’s dangerous decision of not evacuating its countrymen stuck in Wuhan (China). What a sad state of humour in the world’s most populous subcontinent.
Speaking of the unchecked spread of coronavirus, WHO declared it a global health crisis. I must admit that I seek my pleasure from the possible end of anthropocene but I am nowhere close to getting my kicks out of those suffering and dying from a virus. Nobody deserves a gruesome death and that too by an epidemic that leaves people behind to grieve. If we are going, let’s go together. Which is what happened in 1720 (Plague), 1820 (Cholera) as well as 1920 (Bubonic) — massive pandemics that left millions dead across continents. For better or worse, 2020 is just getting started.
Maybe it’s a millennial habit but isn’t too much emphasis given on the tag and too little on the task? Look around you. Kids who are barely 25 are strolling around with ‘Senior’ in their designations and styrofoam cups in their hands. Maybe the world is indeed changing fast but I wonder who is going to be responsible for this change. All human-made systems ultimately become hollow, so it’s only a matter of time before we call ourselves out for this blatant show of hollowness. Once upon a time, raising a flag mattered. The message mattered, not the messenger. That time is passé now. Nowadays, a personality draws in a bigger crowd than what the person wants to say. It’s becoming less about the cause (climate change, for instance) and more about the credit. No wonder our planet finds itself in a precarious position. Besides, those who remain dedicated to their cause bother little about the credit as they are busy doing what gives meaning to their existence. And then, we have the audacity to ask ourselves — “Where the fuck are the real-life heroes?”
My recent tryst with a physiotherapist has helped me open my eyes to the necessity of ergonomics and fitness. Missing out on the basics proves costly in the long run. For example, aiming to build a six-pack abs in six months while not making attempts to build a better posture (sitting, walking, sleeping, etc.) is quite similar to Qatar getting to host the next World Cup in winter for a change (sweating it out at 45° under the sun sounds inhumane) despite corroborated reports of 1200+ migrant labourers dying during the construction work. If only my physio could tell FIFA to stretch it out (to some other Asian country maybe?). Yes, that’s his answer to all the problems in the world. My conclusion is, if you stretch properly today, you won’t be needing a stretcher. After all, even our dog Ranga stretches for at least 30 seconds after waking up, be it from a long sleep or a short nap.
As I am growing older and impatient, some new truths are fast dawning upon us. For instance, we don’t need role models anymore. Our heroes are flawed; all of them are humans with weaknesses like yours and mine. The only thing that sets them apart from the rest of us is they sought themselves out. They carved their niche because they didn’t want to be somebody else. They want to be themselves and successfully achieve this beautiful goal. So, in effect, they managed to not be like their role model/s. I do accept that we are an amalgamation of several bits of all the people who have influenced us in our lives but it’s best to find who you are than spend too much time on figuring out who or why others were. And that is my pitch on the redundancy of role models in the 21st century.
I am a fan of exaggeration as long as it’s restricted to a marvelous series like Rick & Morty. In our daily lives, it’s advisable to find a balance between extremes. Just because our imagination doesn’t have to deal with toll nakas doesn’t mean it should get in the way of our realities. Fighting extremism with extremism is tantamount to fighting wildfire with flamethrower. Even if we manage to defeat one form of extremism today, it will be replaced by another form. A hopeless recipe for eternal battles. A better way to deal with such situations would be find an equanimous approach and try to stick to one’s principles regardless of the consequences. Otherwise, we are going to get sucked by the poison of exaggeration. And in this regard, Far Right is not different from Far Left: imagination is fertile on both ends of the spectrum. The former genuinely believes in the manifestation of Hindu Rashtra and demotion of Indian Muslims while the latter miserably try to find parallels for the current scenario in Nazi Germany and Radio Rwanda. Both enjoy their position as patron saints of the worst case scenario.
