URDU – A LANGUAGE OF THE HEART

Ours was a Punjabi family but I spent all my childhood in Himachal because my father was posted there in the horticulture department. My schooling was entirely in Himachal and after the schooling I was amongst the first batch of students to have got a Pre-Engineering degree from the newly established Himachal University in 1970-71.

The second language in our school was Urdu. In the Government School, Chamba, our Urdu teacher was a very hard taskmaster and looked for any opportunity to cane us on our hands. We used to cringe more because of receiving this chastisement in front of girl students than with the physical torture. Indeed, we had made various jokes and couplets about what we would do to Urdu, the teacher and the school, if given a chance. Our favourite was, “Ain gan (Urdu alphabets) school dhale tanh mundya nu chan” (Ain gan, if the school would collapse, boys would be relieved).


Little did I know at that time that I would be in love with the language. I was just stepping into boyhood and the language seemed to me the answer to my emotional needs and curiosity. I discovered that Urdu had a way of expressing feelings that no other language can match. Many other languages are direct, in-your-face, but, Urdu's lehza (style) is to always express things indirectly. We had a joke about the effrontery of Punjabi or Hindi or even English in something as routine as introducing one self in comparison to an Urdu person who would say, "Khak dar khak, khuda-e-pak, khuda ke bande ko Akhtar miyan ke naam se pukarte hain". An Urdu person won't directly claim to be Akhtar but that he, the insignificant being, is called by that name.


No one can beat the humility of an Urdu person. He is a ghulam (slave) and his abode, however ostentatious it might be, is always the gharib-khana (the poor house).


However, the aspect in which Urdu really excels is in expressing matters of the heart. For example, "Mujhe tumse mohabbat hai magar main keh nahin sakta" (I am in love with you but I cannot say it!)


Literal meanings of words are never necessary when you use the language of the heart. One would say 'Silence' and 'Khamoshi' have the same meaning until you hear:


"Rafta rafta bujha jaata hai chirag-e-aarzoo,
Pehle dil khamosh tha, ab zindagi khamosh hai"
(Gradually the lamp of my desires extinguishes; first my heart became khamosh, now my life has)


You can say things in Urdu that would sound so rude in other languages. Take this from Ghulam Ali's ghazal:


"Shaam ko subhe chaman yaad aa'ii;
Kiski khushboo-e badan yaad aa'ii"

Translated (and I am not even attempting to do it) it would evoke the tease that perhaps she should start using better deodrant.


Being a language of the heart, Urdu writers and poets normally plunge deeper than in other languages. Taste this of Mehdi Hassan:


"Ik zara sa gham-e-dauran ka bhi haq hai jis par,
Maine woh saans bhi tere liye rakh chhodi hai.
Tujhpe ho jaaoonga qurbaan tujhe chahoonga,
Main to mar ke bhi meri jaan tujhe chahoonga;
Zindagi mein to sabhi pyaar kiya karte hain"


(Rather than giving full meaning, suffice it to say that the poet conveys that many people love in their lives but I shall love you even after I die. In the last breath people normally remember their Maker, but even that breath I have saved for you)


Here is my own (infantile) attempt:


Khud ko mujhse itna bhi na tu door samajh,
Apne parwaane ko itna bhi na majboor samajh.
Main agar chahoon to itni bhi hai taqat mujh mein,
Yaad ko teri main ik tu hi bana sakta hoon.
Ik to tu hai meri har baat ko samjhe vehshat,
Apni us tu ko main har ik baat suna sakta hoon.
Gham nahin gar tu lakh bhi roothe mujhse,
Apni us tu ko main jab chahe mana sakta hoon.


(Once again no full translation but the thought that: 'My love, do not think you are that far from me or that I am totally helpless. I have the power to turn your memory into you! This 'you' will always be mine')


All those who are ruled by the heart find a natural bonding with Urdu.

Remember Mirza Ghalib? Here goes:


"Dil-e naadan tujhe hua kya hai,
Aakhir is marz ki dawa kya hai?"


There is no cure; but who the hell wants to be cured?
Urdu is for those whose hearts beat in love even after life.

CAMARADERIE OR CRONYISM?

A few years back, a retiring C-in-C of the Western Naval Command openly bemoaned, in his farewell speech, the scourge of "cronyism" that had started to plague the Indian Navy. One could do nothing right unless one was in the good books of some flag officer or the other; conversely, if one happened to be the favourite of a senior officer, one could never do anything wrong. It reminded me of an industrialist facilitating a young employee in a public function, "Today, we have gathered here to facilitate young Rajkumar on his achievements in the company. Two years back he joined our company as an Assistant Manager. A few months later because of his hardwork he was promoted to become Deputy Manager. His dedication soon saw him become a Manager. He continued to do well and within a year of his joining the company, he became a General Manager. Today, ladies and gentlemen, with his sterling qualities, Rajkumar has become a Vice President. Now what do you have to say, young man?" Rajkumar takes the mike and simply says, "Thank you, papa".

In the Indian Navy, the phenomenon is not just to do with promotions; it is also to do with appointments including ships to command and foreign deputations, one's pecking order in social functions, success of one's ventures such as refits or exercises, command tenure, perks and dealing with support organisations. There was a time when individuals ran the Navy; now, it is similar to any organisation with parochial pulls and pushes, say, Hockey India or BCCI. In such a setup, should you want to stand as an individual you cannot succeed. You would be declared a pariah. You cannot get anything done against the general flow; no one would hold your hand. You are most likely to be labelled as the person who is "negative" and cannot get along well with anyone.

Sadly, this has come about at a time when the Navy went through the Transformation process. Two of its goals were to empower people at various levels and promote out-of-box thinking. Both traits are those of upright individuals and not of brown nosing men with a desire to belong to one camp or the other. I am not suggesting that every individual has to be maverick; but, at this juncture the cloning of people is so complete that it is frightening. I am sure a few years later the Navy will certainly realise that it permitted cronyism to become a scourge and that did more damage to the Navy than any other evil. But, until then, parichialism in one form or the other remains alive and kicking.

Cronyism is not to be confused with the healthy trait of camaraderie, which is dying down. I have seen senior officers who were great friends and swore by each other fall apart the moment they are to be considered for promotion and only some of them would make it. I have seen people retiring after decades of service and they are forgotten the moment they leave. I retired after thirty-seven years of service including training time and there was not a single officer who called us for a farewell dinner or get-together. I must be a bad example because of my stress on individality; but, I came across, in a social gathering, a couple who were very popular when in service. However, during that gathering since they had retired they sat alone. In the Navy, your goodwill ceases as soon as your perceived 'power' and 'influence' goes. That's the way it must be elsewhere too, say, on the civvie street; but, a uniformed service should be proudly promoting camaraderie and esprit-de-corps. Alas, both are victims of what is described as "cut-throat competition" and the flaming desire to somehow get ahead of others.

As India takes rapid strides to become a major global player there is greater awareness of maritime challenges and opportunities than ever before. Indian Navy would be the enabling force to squarely meet these. It is a fine service but for sometime it has allowed personnel policies to deteriorate and start resembling personal policies. Ascendancy of cronyism and decline of camaraderie have been the fallouts. We need to bring the ship on even keel before we sail ahead with confidence.

ADS AND MOSQUITOES

At first glance there appears to be nothing common between the two; but, look closely and you will find various similarities. To start with both keep you from enjoying the scenery or whatever else you are watching, for example, the TV. Then, both have this quality that if you zap one there are many more to reckon with. Yet another similarity is that in a city like Mumbai both are everywhere; there is no way you can ignore them.

Mumbai authorities are convinced that the essential reason you are out driving is because you are fed up of ads on the TV and are ready for the real thing, that is, the hoardings. So, if you want to go anywhere, say, the airport, you would find huge ads where you expect the road signs to be. On your way North, after you cross Mahim, there are two small boards guiding you to turn left towards the airport and a pair of helpful cops who assist you in getting rid of the extra money you should not have been carrying anyway. They are placed there because they know people would take the wrong turn in the absence of signs.

In any other developed city of the world, billboards are just a few and certainly not there spoiling the view. But, in Mumbai...well, in a way, hoardings prevent you from the direct view of people doing what they ought to have been doing indoors. If Japan is the land of the Rising Sun, Mumbai is no different; at many many places it is the land of the rising bums after they have finished doing their job.

Why only Mumbai? You can drive anywhere in India and you can see we have ruined the view of most picturesque sites, lush green fields, and hills by erecting huge hoardings.

Ads on the TV? Anyone who has watched a movie on any of our movie channels will tell you that we have ten minutes ads after every ten minutes. Essentially these make no difference to your understanding of the plot. In most Hindi movies you know the ending even before the movie starts and you are there only to watch the rain-dance. However, most of your patience wears out when there are ads just before the long awaited ending.

You want to watch a cricket match? Well, these days they are able to put in up to seven ads between two overs. In the IPL matches they even give each team Strategic Time-out so that they can squeeze in another thirty ads. Listening to songs on music channels is another experience in catching up with the latest brands being sold. Just in case you are one of the rare watchers actually interested in a match or a song, it frustrates you to observe that whenever the ads are displayed the volume automatically goes up.

I guess there is one aspect in which the similarity between ads and mosquitoes ends and that is that - if you have seen ads on the TV about it – any number of sprays and coils are available in the market to keep the mosquitoes out; but, there is none to keep the ads out. Your ‘choice’ has already been made like those people in the villages of Bihar who find their votes have already been cast when they reach the polling booth after walking tens of miles.

A QUIETER MUMBAI - IS IT A PIPE DREAM?

Causing unwanted noise is the worst way to intrude on other people’s privacy. It is like blowing smoke into a non-smoker’s face. And yet, over the last few years, ‘noise’ has become a menace far greater than many others such as indiscriminately thrown garbage, defecation and urination in public places, traffic violations and tarnishing historical monuments with such informed graffiti as ‘Kallu loves Tarunnam.’

Much of the noise is generated during the festival season that is fast approaching. The most ironical thing is that unlike other ‘unlawful activities’ against which the authorities protect you (or pretend to protect), when it comes to noise, the same authorities take a stand that time deadline for causing noise should be extended in order “to respect people’s sentiments”!

Could it be that the gods are in a deep slumber and need to be woken up with such aural bursts of our devotion? No it cannot be. Our scriptures are full of tales whence gods got annoyed with people for noisily disturbing their meditation and even slumber and ‘punished’ the intruders with curses (‘shraap’). In our times, I know for sure, that majority of us who are trying to sleep or study or simply doing our thing, cringe with irritation when the noisy procession passes our way.

Why are we like this? Were we always like this? Shashi Tharoor, writing about Amartya Sen’s book ‘The Argumentative Indian’ in Newsweek of 24 Oct 05, brought out an interesting observation. “Sen”, he wrote, “is particularly critical of the Western overemphasis on India’s religiosity at the expense of any recognition of the country’s equally impressive rationalist, scientific, mathematical and secular heritage. According to Sen, “That scientific spirit of inquiry can also be seen in ancient India.” His book cites 3,500-year-old verses from the Vedas that speculate skeptically about creation, and details India’s contribution to the world of science, rationality and plural discourse – fields generally treated by Orientalists as ‘western spheres of success’.”

I too spoke with an Acharya, a PhD in Vedas, who told me that a great country like ours was not just named after Shakuntla’s son ‘Bharat’ but that Bharat is a combination of two words ‘Bha’, that is, ‘Intellect’ and ‘Rat’, that is, ‘Absorbed in’; thereby depicting the people of a nation ‘Absorbed in Intellectualism’. This is certainly far removed from the ‘sentiments of the people’ hogwash given to us by the authorities and trumpeted by the westerns who are fascinated by our lack of intellect and hence, the ability to compete with them. The Acharya told me that when Chinese pilgrims Fa-Hein and Huien-Tsang visited India in the 5^th and 7^th centuries AD (during the Gupta dynasty), they were impressed by the scholarly pursuits of our people and Brahmins. Indeed, Baidyanath Saraswati has brought out in ‘Swaraj in Education’ how Kashi (now Varanasi or Benaras) grew into a great seat of learning surpassing other civilisational centres of the world including Rome and Mecca.

Thus, even though our scriptures bring out the virtues of ‘scholarly pursuits’, ‘a quiet mind (maun) and ‘meditation’ (samadhi and dhyan), we are becoming increasingly noisier. We, arguably, make more noise than most other people. Other than the religious processions, let us consider a few examples of how we express these ‘sentiments’:

• We express our glee at the traffic lights turning green by collectively honking; those who are farther from the lights honking louder than those who are closer.
• We announce to the whole world our daughter or son’s marriage by joyously bursting crackers and beating drums; beating drums being an ancient art-form we imported from the jungles of Africa as their only means of communication.
• During election time we make all our tall promises through loudspeakers since we are convinced that our countrymen, like we ourselves, are hard of hearing.
• Whilst driving we honk profusely at anyone who dares to cross our way. Indeed, it is rumoured that many of our countrymen consider it an emergency when their vehicle horns break down but don’t mind such ‘small’ defects as brakes and indicating lights not functioning.
• We never deprive our immediate neighbours and indeed the entire neighbourhood of the healing benefits of our ‘quality music’, whenever we throw a party. If they don’t come to know that ‘it’s the time to disco’, we feel that we haven’t done our public duty.
• Whilst watching our favourite TV programme we notice that the volume automatically goes up when the ads appear so that we don’t miss out on the essential reasons for televising a programme.
• In public debates we win most arguments by lung power. Indeed, ‘the bigger the better’ is not merely a male fantasy with us. Creator of bigger noise, male or female, is automatically considered more powerful.

So, in the coming festive season, let us express our joyous sentiments more silently, rather than making these into a ‘tamasha’. Let us awaken God within us rather than without through conches, cymbals, drums, crackers and loudspeakers. Let’s us not automatically include others in our revelry but respect their privacy as much as we want others to respect ours. Let’s not give a new meaning to the expression, “Lend me your ears”!

IF YOU DRIVE IN INDIA - PART I

This article has my tweets on the thread #ifudriveinindia. Comedy and humour apart, more people die of road accidents in India than in any other country in the world. It is because of our peculiar driving habits. One of the old Hindi movies had this song: “Zindagi ik safar hai suhana, yahan kal kya ho kisne jana?” (Life is a pleasant journey; but, no one knows what will happen tomorrow). Well, whilst driving in India you have no idea of what will happen the next moment. Read on; these tweets may be of some use to foreigners desirous of driving in India or even Indians not yet totally initiated.

If you drive in India:

• You should remember that Indians neither keep to the left nor to the right but keep to wherever they feel they have least resistance.

• Remember that honking is not just for emergency; it signifies, e.g., that car behind you is in hurry whilst you stop for the red light.

• And the vehicle ahead gives right or left indicator, it doesn't mean he wants to turn left or right. He may be just testing the situation.

• You can only survive by being as consistently chaotic as the others; everyone expects you to do wrong!

• Remember that at traffic lights the vehicle at the end of the lane will try to be the first to cross the lights.

• Please get a piercing toned horn fitted; you would require it more than any other instrument, e.g., brake, indicators, and wipers.

• Remember a stopped vehicle on roadside is dangerous; it would suddenly start and come in the way when you are about to cross.

• You can be a menace to others around you by following traffic rules since no one else does!

• You should always inform your next-of- kin because chances of survival are the same as being in the way of stampede by mad bulls.

• And a traffic cop stops you, be prepared to shell out a few hundred bucks because all traffic cops in India demand bribe.

• In the cities, remember that at traffic lights and toll plazas all vehicles would be jumping lanes to be ahead of the next vehicle.

• You should know that people are always crossing the roads including highways and traffic doesn't have exclusive right of the way.

• And stop at a red traffic light, you should know that not everyone would stop. In the absence of a cop many would just go.

• You should know that a person, cow, auto-rickshaw, dog, push cart, beggar, vendor etc can come in front of your car any time.

• Road maps are of little use because names of roads and streets often change in honour of political leaders.

• Remember that a vehicle being overtaken will start overtaking another just at that moment and you will be embarrassed or land up in dangerous state.

• Remember that if sometimes you actually find road signs these may not tell you the right direction.

• Remember that authorities feel that hoardings are more important than road signs.

• And have to go anywhere be prepared to ask hundreds for directions since Indians don't believe in road signs.

• And meet with an accident, pray that you land up in hospital with minor injuries before the other party can break your bones.

• You will never be the same person at the end of your journey.

ROGER OUT

No, this is not the end of radio communications; Roger is the name of our Labrador retriever. Like any retriever he is happiest when he is out. He is all of eleven now and is tamed a bit; but, when he was small, keeping him indoors was a major task. He would take off in a direction we would least expect him to and all of us would run after him enacting the wild goose chase. He always came first in those races but we were the firsts to tire ourselves out. Minutes later when we would return, huffing and puffing, with soiled clothes, bruised hands, arms and legs, he would hover around excitedly to savour the effect of his latest jaunt.

When he was very small, during one of such feral runs, he fell into a pond next to the lawn. I saw him and thought he was struggling to keep himself afloat. So, with my clothes on (there was no time to remove) I jumped into the pond and rescued him. I dried hi m with a towel, all the time muttering sympathies and reassuring that all was going to be well now that I had done the chivalrous thing. However, no sooner had I finished drying that he made a dash for the pond again and there he was happily swimming with an accusing look on his face for having spoiled a good thing that he had accidently discovered.

His love for the water always kept us on our toes and always wet. We took him to a beach; Roger did not like it that we were taking time to settle down and get into swimming dress. So, no sooner had we taken off the leash, that he became part of the marine life, as far away from our reach as possible. Most people on the beach were left wondering why our family loved to be in the sea... with all clothes on.

When out for a walk Roger is convinced that there are hidden treasures to be found under the most inaccessible rocks, thorniest bushes, and most inhospitable swamps. One has to be on total alert when walking near grass or water. Like advice given to drivers on Indian roads, you take your attention away for a split second and you will be surprised to see the mess you will find yourself in. At the end of it there is no way you can get angry with him because he has perfected the innocent-ididnotdoanything-look. More often than not he expects to be patted and fussed over for his sincere efforts.

Many a times Roger has put me in embarrassing positions. He would walk at his normal brisk pace and then slow down immediately behind a lady walking alone. The lady would give furtive and accusing glances because it would very much appear like stalking. My muttering of, “Good boy, Roger, lets walk faster” would be seen by the lady as a ploy to blame my reprehensible act on a poor innocent dog. The more it would take to get him to cross the more would be my mortification. And the moment we’d cross, and I thank God for having avoided a scene, Roger would stall like a car with a flat tyre. I try to become invisible on such occasions but it does not help.

Roger is the darling of all the children and I do not know what they see in him.
“Uncle can we touch him?” a girl would ask.
“Yes, but why do you ask?” is my normal response.
“Because he looks so ferocious”
“Ah, then why do you want to touch him?”
“Because he looks so cute, too”
So, that’s Roger for you, a true Geminian’s dog.
Roger, out.