If you have a problem, fix it. But train yourself not to worry, worry fixes nothing. - Ernest Hemingway

Monday 9 October 2023

Decoding Brand Modi

The Secret of Survival for 10 years

India Today Conclave, Mumbai 2023

Beloved Modi-ji has been the PM for 9 years and 4+ months, but INDIA TODAY would like us to believe he’s been in power for 10 years. It’s a minor trickery, somewhat counter-parallel to Bata selling shoes for Rs.999.95. In a discussion anchored by Rahul Kanwal (a proud Modi bhakt) and another journalist, a group of marketing / advertising big cheeses laboured  hard for 33 minutes to prove the invincibility of “Brand Modi”. 

In the normal course, I wouldn’t have watched the video, but I did, because a friend sent the link with an intro that read: Sorry for sharing the video so early in the morning. Indian Today anchors are live examples of what described the media during the Emergency: “When asked to bend, they crawled.” In fact, I think it’s more than crawling now. Let me explain why I think so.

In one of his memoirs—I don’t recall which one—physicist Richard Feynman describes the difference between a scientist and a salesman: A scientist, even the most unspectacular one, would invariably mention the downsides of the theory proposed by them, and in what conditions the theory doesn’t work. But for a salesman, hiding the negative aspects of their product is de rigueur, a part of the job. The Indian mainstream media today is more salesmanship than journalism. And for the modern-day marketing executives, who often build a false narrative—sometimes a myth—about the product and call it  a brand, one cannot but feel a little pity. These smooth-talking, smart, and well-informed men spend their life inventing beautiful lies. 

Personally, I hadn’t heard the name of any of the INDIA TODAY panelists except Dilip Cherian, who spoke glowingly about Modi’s event management skills. Watching four of them waxing eloquent about Modiji was a learning experience for me. In the 33 minutes they talked, none of the essential issues concerning Modi and his prime-ministership was touched. If an intelligent being from another planet had watched the video, the poor fellow would imagine India had zero problem with the economy, her social harmony was perfect, her democracy was functioning beautifully with its pillars such as the judiciary, parliament, and media in good health. The conclave sidestepped all the critical issues in the context of which Modi should have been examined. 

Instead, the panelists said something that were both bizarre and startling: 

• Modi rules over the hearts of the people. Evidence: Survey by some unnamed US organisation which found Modi is the most popular national leader in the world with 76% approval rating. (Not a word about the methodology of the survey or the size / nature of the sample they used.)

• BJP doesn’t win elections by creating religious divides, but because of the development they have brought about. Proof: “Religion doesn’t fill stomachs.”

• The panelists talked eloquently about the comparability of Modi and Xi Jinping. They had no problem about the fact that Modi was a leader in a democracy and XI, of the biggest totalitarian state in history. Actually, by making the comparison, they let the cat out of the bag about their own concept of democracy.

• When asked about the weaknesses of the “Brand Modi”, the panelists struggled hard to find an answer. Their innocence was touching; perhaps they hadn’t noticed Modi’s proclivity to take decisions without consulting anyone, his disdain for democratic processes, his shameless hatred for Muslims and Christians, his abject failure to manage the economy of the country, ... his lies. In particular, the panelists seemed to have missed the following.

o The economic distress caused by demonetisation with zero prior study, and ignoring the opinion of RBI.

o Haphazard implementation of the GST by relying on a single IAS officer from—where else but—Gujarat, which caused more damage.

o the enormous suffering of the migrant workers when Modi announced a nation-wide lockdown at 4 hours’ notice, once again without any evidence of planning.

o The delay in introducing vaccines, countless documented instances of people dying because of lack of oxygen, and the bodies floating on the Ganga during the second wave of COVID.

o Muslims attacked and killed in every BJP ruled state with no legal action against the criminals.

o Systematic destruction of Muslims homes, again by BJP ruled states in complete and egregious violation of legal provisions.

During the discussion, Dilip Cherian said that Coca Cola, the most successful brand of the 20th century, contains 30% sugar, but the company doesn’t reveal the fact. (It’s not obliged to?) Similarly, Modi doesn’t have to acknowledge his weaknesses. It’s the brand that matters.

It does seem we have evolved from the idea of the media bending or crawling. From the idea that a leader must be measured against his/her performance. Modi is a brand around which an aura is to be created. Modi has to be marketed, like Coke, whether it’s poison or not. Just as capitalism is value neutral as long as there’s profit, in today’s India, anything that Modi does is fine, as long as he wins elections!

You have to decide if deserves to win the elections in 2024.

08/10/2023

Photos courtesy commons.wikimedia.org

Left: By Prime Minister's Office (GODL-India), GODL-India

Right: By Ralf Roletschek - Own work, Public Domain


Monday 18 September 2023

Hope or despair? The choice is ours

Can you recall the name of the political party Hitler belonged to? Or Mussolini? Or in our time, Recep Erdogan’s party in Turkey? Probably not. But everybody knows what party Joe Biden belongs to, or Sheik Hasina. Unlike in democracies, political parties don’t play a pivotal role in a dictatorial or fascist state. In these regimes, one man comes to power riding on a party, and over time, he makes the same party irrelevant as he gradually usurps all the powers of the state. I think we have come to a stage in India where BJP and even its ideological big brother, the RSS have become irrelevant. One man calls the shots in India today, Narendra Modi, MA (Entire Political Science).

And this man has basically done two things during his nine years of (mis)rule. 

He has systematically weakened the foundations on which the structure of our democracy stands: the parliament, the judiciary, the election commission, and the agencies that maintain order, like the CBI and the ED.

His other major “contribution” is that his followers and a section of the media systematically spread hatred against minorities, of whom Muslims are the first target. Hate campaigns humiliate them relentlessly. Muslim Indians—most of them don’t have a forefather who ever lived anywhere outside India—are told they have no place in their country. They should go to Pakistan. They are lynched; they are killed in manufactured riots; the culprits aren’t punished. Rather, mass murderers and gang rapists jailed in an earlier regime are released prematurely and feted by the master’s followers. In the states ruled by Modi’s party, the situation is the worst. If you go to Ahmedabad, the laboratory of Hindutwa hooliganism, you will see that all Muslims, from former IAS officers to peons live in a ghetto, where the civic amenities are terrible. In at least three states, UP, MP, and Haryana, for every real or perceived offence committed by Muslims, the state government sends bulldozers to destroy Muslim homes. No notice, victims get no opportunity to defend themselves in court. Bulldozers arrive and demolish their homes. The news is carried in some newspapers the next day and that is the end of it. No legal process, no judge has the courage to call out the grotesque illegality. 

All these monstrosities go unchallenged because a large section of the majority Hindu community has been blinded by hate against Muslims (and Christians). Hatred and anger are a dangerous mix. It makes decent people blind and unable to think rationally. (This fact was seen time and again in history and also proved experimentally by psychologists.) In India today, there are millions who don’t believe demonetisation lead to massive damage to the economy. Millions think if bodies floated in the Ganga during COVID, the Modi government had no fault. Millions believe—without a shred of evidence—that Muslims will somehow become a majority in the country and decimate Hindus. Hindu khatre mein hai!

By an accident of birth, I am a Hindu. And I am ashamed of the poison that many of my friends (or former friends) carry in their dysfunctional brains. If you haven’t succumbed to the poison, please open you heart to your Muslim friends, colleagues, and neighbours. Please tell them you don’t belong to the bigoted, insane lot. It will not change the system, but it will be your contribution to the sanity of the nation.

 There is no sign that the Modi bhakts’ collective madness will be cured anytime soon. No let up in the blizzard of poison. Rather, there’s every sign that Indian politics will become even more poisonous. As things stand today, there seems little chance that Modi will be defeated in the elections in 2024, although a lot can change in politics in the next eight months. And it is more or less certain that if did win next year, he would possibly be able to change the Constitution and convert India a Hindu Rashtra. We are already following Pakistan in a similar path of destruction. If Modi wins next year, we will reach a point of no return.

But however bleak the immediate future may seem, if we gave up hope, it would be our defeat at the hands of autocracy. That cannot happen, despair is not an option for us. We must speak up and speak to anyone who cares to listen. The message must be kept alive. The revolutionary poet from Telangana, Varavara Rao, who has spent many years in jail, gives us hope. Let me close this short note with a few lines written by him.

“Political prisoners know the meaning of hope but they do not know the meaning of despair. Chera called me a frightful optimist for this, and yet I must honestly admit that although I have known pain, suffering and anxiety along with hope, happiness and enthusiasm, never have I been plunged into despair and frustration even in the most trying times. … In personal matters, I felt sorrowful indifference at moments and said, ‘Let troubles and hardships come if they must.’ I have felt detachment, but never have yielded to cynicism even for a moment in my solitary cell.”


Varavara Rao, quoted by Arvind Narrain in his book India’s Undeclared Emergency p199 (Westland Publications Pvt. Ltd., 2021). 
Varavara Rao’s picture courtesy Wikipedia.

Monday 17 July 2023

Mexico Diary 1

Mexico City, La Ciudad de México in Spanish (Pronounced LA SIUDAAD DE MEHIKO), is easily one of the most cheerful places I have been to. After reaching there, what you immediately notice about the city is her music. Everywhere you go, on streets, in markets, in restaurants or ice cream parlours, you hear music. Not the slow soulful tunes that remind you of the other world, but the fast, foot-tapping variety that celebrates the present. At a street corner near our hotel, there was an old man continuously winding a music machine that produced the same tune from 11 AM to 11 PM or maybe, later. I guess he is completely deaf, otherwise, he couldn’t have survived the same music for so long. I have no idea how much he earns through such hard work, but he looks seriously malnourished. He was not the only one, another equally thin and old man I saw was playing the saxophone quite beautifully. Also,  little boys and girls sat on the roadside with a pet cat and played a small accordion. The deal is that you listen to her music, pet her cat, and pay a few pesos in exchange. After listening to the music played by the first boy I saw, I understood why he needs a cat to be petted as an add-on attraction. But I gave him a twenty-peso note all the same. The divine smile on his face was worth travelling 3,010 kilometres from San Francisco.

Maybe, to make themselves heard over all that music, Mexicans talk loudly like us Bongs. Close to our hotel in the centre of the city, there is a mosaicked road where cars aren’t allowed (even if allowed, cars would skid on such a surface). So, it was a pedestrian only street with colourful stores and eateries on both sides. On that stretch, even at 11 in the night, there are crowds of men and women in small groups talking noisily and walking aimlessly. For couples, cuddling and kissing on the road is a done deal! Pubs and restaurants (not much difference between the two) are teeming with people, with perhaps more women than men. The city seemed safe for women. It's also possible that young Mexican women are a little tired of men. I saw lots and lots of them in unisex groups of two to six, making merry. And a particular custom of women is perhaps universal. In a group, everyone talks simultaneously. I have thought about it deeply and have come to the conclusion that it is possible only because women are good at multi-tasking. They can talk and listen to at the same time. Incidentally, many women I came across in Mexico don’t spend much on buying the cloth that is made into their dress. Also, they take their nails seriously; there was hardly a young woman who didn’t have long, beautifully manicured nails. One of them was the driver of an Uber cab we took.

You are possibly thinking that this seventy-two-year-old is (still) obsessed with women. Let me change the topic. A wonderful feature of the city is that tequilas, mezcals, and whiskies are sold everywhere, in roadside kiosks, groceries, and convenience stores. That means, people can buy their daily needs like bread, butter, and liquor from the same place. So convenient!

If I have to compare Mexico City with the few other metropolises I have been to, I would say it is a cross between Paris and Kolkata.  Like Paris, the capital city of Mexico too is a fun-loving place, where people enjoy food and drinks at tables laid on the pavements, which are extensions of restaurants. And the merrymaking begins by 2 PM. (In Paris, I wondered when people went to office(!), but I wouldn’t say so about Mexico City because I was there only for three days and visited mostly the touristy areas.) At 2 PM at a roadside eatery near the Frida Kahlo Museum, while we had a forgettable lunch, a gaudily dressed man and woman (the woman, gaudily painted too) entertained us and the passersby with a few dances. And as it happens with Spanish flamenco and possibly most Mesoamerican dances, the long train of ruffles of the female dancer’s skirt did most of the hard work! (“A flamenco dancer’s skirt is stitched with five yards of cloth,” Mr Google tells me!)

Unlike in Paris, people, particularly men, are not immaculately dressed here. And like in Kolkata, there are crowds on the streets, lots and lots of them. Roadside markets thrive. In a way, large parts of Mexico City are an extended bazaar. In a park, I was pleasantly surprised to find painters selling their works. The city takes fine arts seriously, like both Paris and Kolkata.


Economically, Mexico is about five times stronger than India. In 2022—the World Bank website says—the per capita GDP of Mexico was US $ 11,091, while for India, it was US $ 2,389. The five times stronger economy is seen in beautiful, much wider roads, an intricate network of metro lines that seemed as good as the London Metro, cable buses and spanking trolley buses, well-maintained parks and grand mansions, and stores brimming with merchandise. The roads and the pavements are particularly beautiful. But lots of people in Mexico City sleep on the road. (I didn't photograph them for obvious reasons.) And everywhere, from street musicians to traders in roadside bazaars to the  to the artists selling pictures in parks, you come across lots of people who are clearly struggling to make a living.

So, beneath the gloss of an almost middle-income economy, an ugly underbelly of deprivation is plainly visible.


Cupertino, California

13 July 2023

Saturday 8 July 2023

“Jete pari, kintu keno jabo? / I can, but why should I leave?”


Written by the late Shakti Chattopadhyay (and published in a collection of poems in 1982), this sentence of enormous simplicity has become a catchphrase in Bangla. Most educated Bengalis would have heard and spoken the sentence at some time or other. Many a time, I believe, these words would have changed the course of their thoughts.

Having crossed the decrepit milestone of seventy years some time ago, I think of leaving more often than before. This morning too, as I read the poem, it didn’t fail to shake me up, like every other time I read it. 

Here is a feeble attempt to translate the poem. I would love to hear what you think of the English version.

 * 

I can, but why should I leave? 

Shakti Chattopadhyay >>>


I think maybe, it would be better to turn back.

I’ve dipped my two hands in so much darkness

For so long!

I’ve never thought of you as the you you are.

Nowadays, when I stand beside an abyss at night,

The moon calls me, ‘Come, come, come!’

These days, when a sleepy I stand on the bank of the Ganga,

Woods from the pyre call me, ‘Come, come!’

Yes, I can go

I can go along any path I choose

But, why should I?

I will hold my child in my arms and kiss her once

I will go, but I won’t go just now

I will take you all with me

I won’t go now

When it’s not the time.

 

Translated in Cupertino, California

On 7 July 2023

 

*

 

যেতে পারি, কিন্তু কেন যাবো?

শক্তি চট্টোপাধ্যায় >>>

 

ভাবছি, ঘুরে দাঁড়ানোই ভালো।

এতো কালো মেখেছি দু হাতে

এতোকাল ধরে!

কখনো তোমার ক’রে, তোমাকে ভাবিনি।

এখন খাদের পাশে রাত্তিরে দাঁড়ালে

চাঁদ ডাকে : আয় আয় আয়

এখন গঙ্গার তীরে ঘুমন্ত দাঁড়ালে

চিতাকাঠ ডাকে : আয় আয়

যেতে পারি

যে-কোন দিকেই আমি চলে যেতে পারি

কিন্তু, কেন যাবো?

সন্তানের মুখ ধরে একটি চুমো খাবো

যাবো

কিন্তু, এখনি যাবো না

তোমাদেরও সঙ্গে নিয়ে যাবো

একাকী যাবো না অসময়ে।।

 

Photo courtesy:  https://www.observerbd.com/2016/03/24/143159.php