59

Dear Readers,

                    The Indian farmer is a phenomenon in himself\herself and like so many experts opine about the 'miraculous feats' they achieve, it is truly a remarkable experience to know them close at hand. Last Monday, I got a phone call from a cousin of mine (who was in Udaipur for some social obligation) asking me to drive up to his farm and fetch something important. I was a but reluctant initially but later on agreed imagining the drive through those slender country roads. 

                    When I reached the farm, heat and humidity were almost choking my party to death. We were all in the mood to dash back to the town but just as we were about to leave, I viewed the sky with a deep seated lust and desire for a satiating shower. We could see dark thundering clouds in one direction looking very promising and full some. However, while in a desert, you can never be certain whether such clouds would head in your direction and whether you would witness any rain? We were unable to speculate and decide about staying back or not.

                   Kailash, the farmer of those fields advised us to hang on.There was a peculiar glint in his eyes staring at the horizon. He raised his arm in a slightly different direction and said that after about an hour, there will be a heavy downpour from that end.  He explained a strange science of wind blowing from one direction and ascending up which would ultimately force those dark clouds to shed all that voluminous vapour. I had serious doubts about this calculation and belittled him due to the confidence of this fact in my sub-conscious that I have read more Geography than him. Yet I gave him a chance and finally stayed back for the evening.  

                 After an hour, it rained heavily and in the exact manner, he had prophesied. I was impressed and what I learned then was that those who claim to be climate change experts and masters of the sciences of Ecology and Environment  have a lot to learn from those who dwell in the soil........

58

Dear Readers,

                     It so happens these days that during most of my 'leisure' time, I am immersed in the reading of the book Jinnah authored by Jaswant Singh ji and pondering on the thought of Hindu-Muslim unity and problems thereof. It is fascinating to learn how communalism developed only as a bi-product of colonial malevolence and even during the twentieth century, Muslims and Hindus were as close to each other as on the eve of the Mutiny.

                     It is such a sight to visualise Hindus and Muslims fight the Britishers together in 1857 and 1905. Even as late as 1920, these two communities were assertively exhibiting their brotherhood when Gandhiji gave the call to the Indian National Congress to fully back the Khilafat agitation. Chants of 'Hindu-Muslim bhai-bhai' reverberated in the atmosphere and masjids and mandirs echoed with "Om Shanti Ameen". What more can I say but point at that historical moment when Swami Shraddhananda ascended to the pulpit of Jama Masjid to address a gathering of thirty thousand Muslims who sat there in rapt attention. 

                       While I was thinking and rethinking about all these issues, there was a storm in the Bikaner sky and just as I went to my terrace to gauge the weather, a heavy downpour was bestowed upon us from above. I bathed in the monsoon showers of the desert for a good span of time. After that, I returned to my room, dried myself up and had a quick change of clothes. It was then that I understood that spirituality is like how you feel when after getting drenched in rain, you sense deep cleansing of each pore of your body. It is something over and above religion and theological institutions. For millennia to come, there will be spiritual men guiding us to paths of such pore-cleansing and men who under the garb of religious extremism, make murders sound respectable......

57

Dear Readers, 

                     There is so much to learn about the idea of India when we take into account the rise and spread of Islam in the sub-continent. The rich historiography offers a broad spectrum of views and opinions that range from appalling to those which stimulate serious deliberations. By understanding what the scholars try to argue, we are able to locate sources and foundations of their contentions among our very immediate environs.

             To give an example and cut the jargon off, think about the issue of an Indo-Islamic language, our very own beloved, Urdu. Beginning as a camp language, this zubaan grew in popularity and usage engulfing huge parts of India. This language saw its ebbs and tides with the corresponding changes in time, polity and society. Once a language of the elite, today all that is left of this language are a few rusting newspaper publications and a rickety department in an antiquated University or two. 

                Yet, it can not be simply written off. This is the reason why I believe a lot can be gathered about the idea of India or the idea of Hindustan by studying this enigma of a language called Urdu. It is no wonder that even till date, songs of Hindi cinema which evoke strong passion and sophisticated emotions are exquisite piece of poetry writing in Urdu. 

     Woh afsana jise anjam tak laana na ho mumkin, 

use ek khoobsurat mod deke chodna aacha,

chalo ek bar fir se ajnabi ban jaayein hum dono...

56

Dear Readers, 

                     After a gruesome stay in Bikaner during the peak summer season, I scooted off down south to witness a bountiful monsoon in the western ghats and if this was not enough to make life seem beautiful, there came another gift out of the blue. Recently, on a visit to Delhi, I found history in all its charming regalia showering its affection on me. 

                  I met a wonderful soul who was as gorgeous from within as from the outside. Together we unraveled the deep ties of the mysterious bond that kept us together since time immemorial but which only recently could be realised. We both had a historical narrative to offer to each other which included tales of the land from where we came and of change and of continuity. While all this mutual exploration was on, we chanced upon a masterpiece cinema that left us both suspended in the vacuum of historical imagination and aesthetics. 

                    All I can divulge at this point of time is the name of the movie, which happened to be 'Lootera'. The rich classy look of the movie matched with the poise of each and every character, which facilitated an easy transport to past. In my opinion the flick offered just the right blend of descriptions and insinuations and appeared to fit the period mould perfectly as performances and story line never really transgressed the boundaries of drama to slip down into the territory of over-presentation. Yet, the most captivating part was played by the poetic company I had with whom, for once,  I could share my 'sense of history'.....