by BODO
It's two forty am. And I've just gotten back from watching rang de basanti. Mynta is playing on the cd player (which is a good thing). My body is complaining about my constant abuse of it (which is a not so good thing). And me. I have things to say that can't wait till the morning.
Like what? Well, questions of national identity for starters. Also, bollywood's immense capacity to surprise me. And isolated snatches of conversation that have hung suspended over the ceiling of my living room since the eve of our 58 th republic day.
And not that it can't wait till the morning. Of course it can. Just that I'll get so caught up in my super animated daily grind that I'll completely forget what I have to say till an evening, three or four months hence when I'll be up staring at the computer screen at 4 in the morning.
So here I am, child of colonial India, more comfortable with the concept of high tea than with jolpan, lightly tapping the keys of my computer (because pounding, I'll have you know went out with the typewriter) at 3 in the morning.
So here I am, thinking about what it is that makes me Indian. Is it the culture I've been brought up with? Can't be, I think. I grew up knowing my Jane Austen's backwards. Sipped tea instead of chai. Wore jackets on winter evenings to club. Knelt down to pray in church even before I understood who or what god was. Surrounded by a living, breathing legacy that the British left in India.
Then I grew up slightly more. Things changed a lot from my younger days. America, meantime was either trying to take over the world or save it from themselves. Coca cola replaced water in the grocery stores. And mtv replaced ramayan on our tv sets. George Clooney became a recurring theme in my dreams (still is by the way).
And then I went to school in jaipur. Where I learnt how to cook, to arrange flowers, ride horses, make lovely sets for functions and of course that a woman's real place is in the kitchen. Even if she burns water while boiling it.
So what culture are we talking about?
Is it the heritage that has been handed down to me? Can I claim to be proud of a Gandhi, because I happened to be born in the same nation state? Can I claim to be proud of being a part of the world's largest democracy even though I've never cast a vote in my life? Can I rest assured be cause I have several million gods watching over me as opposed to most of the worlds just one?
Where does my identity as an Indian come from? Not just me, all of us? Where does our identity as an Indian come from? And more importantly, do we need an identity as an Indian?
Isn't it enough that we can do good for goods sake instead just for the nations sake? Isn't it enough that we pay our taxes not because the country demands it, but because we are giving back to the community? Isn't it enough that we can give inzamam-ul-haq his due without thinking, salla pakistani? Isn't it enough that our basic values – religious, cultural whatever, are essentially human values? And despite however many borders we cross or how many languages we speak…that's not going to change.
Not with a hurdred rang de basanti's hitting the screen. Much as it is one of the best films that bollywood ever made. Much as it is packed with nationalistic fervor. Much as it questions the apathy of our generation. Because it's a film about taking responsibility for change. A film about pissing or getting off the pot. And yes, it's a film that deals with the state of our nation. But what is a nation if not the sum of its people. And people, I figure, are essentially the same all over the world. With or without their sense of national identity.
And now at four eighteen am, with my beer having lost all its fizz, a dead cd player lying just out of reach, and eyelids that are fighting a losing battle to gravity…I've got to admit that it's time to say goodnight and good luck. Have a great day tomorrow. And yes, go watch rang de basanti
It's two forty am. And I've just gotten back from watching rang de basanti. Mynta is playing on the cd player (which is a good thing). My body is complaining about my constant abuse of it (which is a not so good thing). And me. I have things to say that can't wait till the morning.
Like what? Well, questions of national identity for starters. Also, bollywood's immense capacity to surprise me. And isolated snatches of conversation that have hung suspended over the ceiling of my living room since the eve of our 58 th republic day.
And not that it can't wait till the morning. Of course it can. Just that I'll get so caught up in my super animated daily grind that I'll completely forget what I have to say till an evening, three or four months hence when I'll be up staring at the computer screen at 4 in the morning.
So here I am, child of colonial India, more comfortable with the concept of high tea than with jolpan, lightly tapping the keys of my computer (because pounding, I'll have you know went out with the typewriter) at 3 in the morning.
So here I am, thinking about what it is that makes me Indian. Is it the culture I've been brought up with? Can't be, I think. I grew up knowing my Jane Austen's backwards. Sipped tea instead of chai. Wore jackets on winter evenings to club. Knelt down to pray in church even before I understood who or what god was. Surrounded by a living, breathing legacy that the British left in India.
Then I grew up slightly more. Things changed a lot from my younger days. America, meantime was either trying to take over the world or save it from themselves. Coca cola replaced water in the grocery stores. And mtv replaced ramayan on our tv sets. George Clooney became a recurring theme in my dreams (still is by the way).
And then I went to school in jaipur. Where I learnt how to cook, to arrange flowers, ride horses, make lovely sets for functions and of course that a woman's real place is in the kitchen. Even if she burns water while boiling it.
So what culture are we talking about?
Is it the heritage that has been handed down to me? Can I claim to be proud of a Gandhi, because I happened to be born in the same nation state? Can I claim to be proud of being a part of the world's largest democracy even though I've never cast a vote in my life? Can I rest assured be cause I have several million gods watching over me as opposed to most of the worlds just one?
Where does my identity as an Indian come from? Not just me, all of us? Where does our identity as an Indian come from? And more importantly, do we need an identity as an Indian?
Isn't it enough that we can do good for goods sake instead just for the nations sake? Isn't it enough that we pay our taxes not because the country demands it, but because we are giving back to the community? Isn't it enough that we can give inzamam-ul-haq his due without thinking, salla pakistani? Isn't it enough that our basic values – religious, cultural whatever, are essentially human values? And despite however many borders we cross or how many languages we speak…that's not going to change.
Not with a hurdred rang de basanti's hitting the screen. Much as it is one of the best films that bollywood ever made. Much as it is packed with nationalistic fervor. Much as it questions the apathy of our generation. Because it's a film about taking responsibility for change. A film about pissing or getting off the pot. And yes, it's a film that deals with the state of our nation. But what is a nation if not the sum of its people. And people, I figure, are essentially the same all over the world. With or without their sense of national identity.
And now at four eighteen am, with my beer having lost all its fizz, a dead cd player lying just out of reach, and eyelids that are fighting a losing battle to gravity…I've got to admit that it's time to say goodnight and good luck. Have a great day tomorrow. And yes, go watch rang de basanti
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