41

Dear Readers, 

                     last weekend, I was on a holiday at Sihara located in Jaisalmer, the paternal village of a close friend Mandhata Singh Bhati. Lush green farms in the middle of the desert, sumptuous meals, awesome 4x4 SUV drives  and visits to temples frequented during childhood like Ramdev Peer's(my favorite shrine in the whole of India) and Bhadariya Mata's left the soul smiling at the setting golden Sun of Basant ritu.

                     After bouts of merry making on Sunday night, I had to leave for Bikaner, the next morning. I had to wake up at 6 am in order to fetch a bus that left the village at 6 20. This daunting task worried me a little because as far as I can remember, the last time I woke up around that time was somewhere during the early nineties! JNU time-tables have luxuriantly mistimed my sleep-cycles. To my surprise, I woke up automatically sharp at 5 30 am on a chilly morning because of the bhajans that started playing in a nearby temple around the same time.

                       On my way back, I observed that road connectivity has improved in our countryside in the wake of the new flagship programme introduced during the last NDA Coalitional government at the center. After the bus leapt over a few sand-hills and climbed a few again, it halted at a station named Shekhasar. Alittle boy got on to it radiating with energy and vigor. He was on his way to school and was looking so fresh and alert. His eyes were brimming with confidence and that rare look of a winner sparkled in his eyes. I thought to myself that what if the same lad opted for a master's degree in our University and became my pupil twenty years down the line? Will I be worthwhile to ignite his voracious intellect? My only reason to worry at that time was the challenge as to how to protect such brilliance from being quartered at the hands of aptitude-insensitive, statusquoist and degenerating Government school education system of our nation.......

    

                    

40

Dear Readers,

                      A three-day workshop on translation organized by the Department of English at our University concluded today. It was supervised by Professor A K Singh of IGNOU. The speakers at the event were stalwarts in their respective fields and left us to ponder upon countless thoughts which ran deep into philosophy and varied themes of  linguistics.

                      One gentleman pointed out how translation has got more to do with comprehension rather than reproduction of the exact words in the target language. It is only after an intimate rendezvous with the content that leaves one with a strong sense of affiliation that one can translate meaningfully. Another one quoted that,"Poetry lies not in the words but in the silence between them". He later on added a simile of music to further drive home his 'silence' part of the argument.

                        I was one of the translators at the workshop. I thoroughly enjoyed my job and came out with an English rendition of a very interesting Rajasthani folk-tale titled, Umade Bhatiyani ri Vat or the tale of Umade Bhatiyani.  The job left me with a sense of inspiration. Long time back, when Rev. Valson Thampu ,the Principal of St. Stephen's College, started the Center for Translations there, I was all geared up to work a lot. All this while, however, not a word could be contributed for reasons which I myself cannot delineate. This workshop let me take the first step, no matter how minuscule to begin with. I sincerely hope to keep up the good work.....

39

Dear Readers, 

                   Last night I chanced upon a rare video series capturing the plight and pathos of the catastrophic Tsunami that hit the Indian Ocean in 2004. The video is called 'Tsunami in Camera' and is available on Youtube. It was horrifying to relate to the experiences of tourists who were on a delightful vacation and were caught unawares. The scenes that reeled before my eyes were so terrifying that I imagined finding myself in a similar situation when I was holidaying in Thailand or Philippines. 

                   After watching the video, my estimation of the effects of that disaster was completely dismantled. It shattered many myths and presuppositions. Before this, little did I have any idea about the fact that the actual havoc was played by the power and force of tidal energy. Secondly, I got to learn that at each site of the tragedy, two waves hit the beaches. The second wave was taller and mightier. Secondly, the receding wave had an equally devastating effect. It suck people and objects like vacuum cleaner into the abyss of the ocean. 

                            These days, I am spending a lot of time with my college senior Bhuvneshwar Singh Rathore(Bhamsa as we used to call him) who hails from Bikaner, is in the army, and is here on a leave. We discussed the above point today in the evening and he supplied his peculiar experience details. This army officer had successfully served at the world's highest battlefield, the Siachen glacier. He narrated an eye-witness account of  one of the most deadly of natural disasters- the Avalanche. The sight of an avalanche is one of the beateous visions one can have when he is perched high above  safely at a distance. However, god save you if you are in its way. Nothing, absolutely nothing, can survive it. More on it in the next post but to conclude, all that can be said is that our life is at the mercy of nature.

38

Dear Readers, 

                     Our department recently organized a symposium on Relevance and Contribution of one of the most iconic leaders of the National Movement, Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose. The keynote speech was delivered by a fellow colleague, Dr. Meghna Sharma who specializes in Modern Indian History. Being a Medievalist, I would admit my lack of knowledge in the field. I was thrilled to the core to learn so much from the erudite speeches that were delivered that day. I was the compere for the symposium and the mere regurgitation of highlights left me with abundant knowledge.

                      Did you know that after Netaji's death in a plane crash, his ashes were taken to Japan. They were stored in the house of Mr. Rama Murti, a freedom fighter, who laid the foundations of India Independence League at Tokyo. According to the information provided in His Majesty's Opponent by Sugata Bose( grand nephew of Netaji and currently, Gardiner Professor of Oceanic History and Affairs, Harvard University) these last remains were brought back to India in 2006 at the behest of our present Prime Minister Manmohun Singhji. This fact, though a subject of intense debate and mystery, raises more questions than it answers.

                           Netaji's daughter, Anita B. Pfaff's recent book launch and her gift of the same to Honorable President Pranab Mukherjee has initiated a fresh debate on Netaji among the intelligentsia of our nation. In the same spirit, we had organized this symposium. Our democracy is far far away from entering its mature phase. Neither are the people accustomed to framing their opinion based upon rigorous debates in the realm of Higher Education. None the less, we should begin to research on the dark spots of our history. We should rebel against grand meta-narratives of political parties and examine details first hand- details about National leaders, events, riots, wars, demographic shifts etc. Only then, can we absolve ourselves and our civilization from being dubbed as ahistorical.......