An Open Letter to Insufferable Indians

 

Dear Indians,

Forget the New Year resolutions you made with impractical, turbo-enthusiasm to excavate the best version of yourselves from beneath the layers and layers of blubber and bullshit. Of course, most of you had impressive goals. These included flying all the way to the Trou aux Cerfs to livestream your guided tour of volcano craters and lava fields, discovering your life's passion, running into the love of your life at Muniyandi Mess, eating only organically sourced vegan food while training for the triathlon and giving up gadgets entirely because it rots what's left of your rapidly deteriorating brain. The noble aspirations are truly impressive but since you have done little more than write these down and stick it on the fridge proceeding to ignore it thereafter to focus on Instagram reels while chowing down on a bucket of KFC fried chicken and staying put on your recliner, the smart money says that your high flown aims shan't be achieved in the immediate or even distant future.

 Never fear, though. Republic day is just around the corner and it is entirely possible to reaffirm your commitment to making India Incredible again or at the very least, less irredeemable. Rather than sell your admittedly annoying neighbour's kidney on the black market to fund your trip to the Côte d'Azur, perhaps you could stay home for a change and take up meditation or lazing around. That way you don't have to humiliate hamara Motherland by being the typical unruly Indian tourist who puked in the pool after demolishing the buffet and tried to escape with  purloined products from the resort.

 Rather than trying to live it up by walking on our far from pristine shorelines or mountain trails with your boozehound buddies who carelessly discard their liquor bottles and risk maiming others, you could concentrate on sparing your liver and pavement dwellers amongst others by not drinking yourself into a stupor and getting behind the wheel of the imported Bugatti Centodieci your Benami Daddy bought you.

 A lot of you are convinced that all it takes to clear your crippling karmic debt thanks to a lifetime of depravity is frequent trips to places of worship with hordes of the similarly misguided risking the loss of lives due to stampede - friendly conditions. Perhaps you could eschew this unholy behaviour in favor of actually being nice, well  - behaved and the sort of citizen a nation can take pride in by cleaning up after yourself instead of leaving a mountain - high trail of garbage wherever you go and whatever you do. And if you must visit manmade dwelling places of the divine or even any public place refrain from shoving, spitting, or shouting. And do refrain from pissing or pooping anywhere outside a toilet.

 Remember, the odds of finding love are enhanced if you are loveable. And you can't be that if you make it a habit to stalk, molest or harass women. If you are a woman, do not file false cases and betray the feminist cause. Strive to do better fellow Indians. Mother India will thank and bless you!

Yours in EXASPERATION,

A DISGRUNTLED Indian

This article was originally published in TNIE Magazine

A Clarion Call amidst the Clamour of War

 

The world has been watching the genocide underway at Gaza, already reeling from the illegal land, air and naval blockade imposed by Israel since 2007. After the shocking events of October 7, 2023, when Hamas launched the ill – advised terror strikes against the Jewish communities on the Gaza border which claimed about 1200 lives and the taking of around 250 hostages, a disproportionately violent response was elicited from Israel. The unrelenting waves of warfare led to the deaths of around 45,000 people in Gaza, mostly civilians and children, saw many more injured, much of the Gaza strip reduced to rubble and its entire populace forcibly displaced from their homes, relegated to refugee status. For those struggling to grapple with the complex geopolitical realities that have led to this humanitarian crisis, Stanly Johny’s ‘Original Sin: Israel, Palestine, and the Revenge of Old West Asia’ is a timely guide that helps one connect the dots.

Based on his travels, interviews, research and observations of the ground reality as an International Affairs Editor with over a decade’s experience, Johny’s book attempts to trace the roots of this conflict, identify the main players in this foreign affairs nightmare and outline India’s evolving equation with Israel and Palestine. With a reporter’s clear-eyed yet empathetic gaze, he takes the reader back in time to key moments in history when the seeds for the present conflict were sown. Over a century ago, the Balfour Declaration was signed, with the British promising the Zionists a country in Palestine where the Arab natives made up over 90% of the population. This had a seismic effect, the reverberations of which are felt to the present day, Johny points out.

After World War II, the United Nations called for the partition of Palestine into Arab and Jewish states. The Arabs rejected this outright as 55% of Palestine had been handed over to the Jews along with the fertile coastal region. At the end of the 1948 war, Israel controlled 75% of Palestine including West Jerusalem, having defeated four Arab countries. For Palestinians, it was al Nakba - the catastrophe, as roughly 7,50,000 former inhabitants were violently dislodged and scattered by Zionist militias. In the Six – Day War of 1967, Israel captured all of Palestine and never gave it back, despite stiff resistance and armed conflict over the years.

Johny’s wry observations acquaint the reader with the political skullduggery and Machiavellian manoeuvring that resulted in the Ottoman empire (including Palestine) being carved up between Britain and France after WWII, and the disgraceful protocol of Sèvres where Israel, Britain, and France colluded against Egypt’s Gamal Abdel Nasser resulting in the transfer of Western influence in the region from the Europeans to the Americans. He also exposes the ‘myth of Arab unity’ with the Palestinian cause making it clear that nationalistic interests, ambition and sectarian fault lines usually trumps ideology and brotherhood. It is also apparent that even the so – called legitimate and recognized official bodies representing the Palestinians may be corrupt and self – serving, content to make moving speeches in international forums and pocket funds that keep pouring in from sympathizers, while allowing the situation to deteriorate.  

The profiles of the heads of state involved in this hot spot as well as key figures amongst the non – state actors such as Hezbollah, Hamas, Islamic Jihad etc. carefully constructed by Johny makes for riveting reading. Yitzhak Rabin’s transition from a soldier and Defence Minister who endorsed a typically heavy – handed ‘Break their Bones’ policy to the rare Israeli PM who advocated and worked hard for peace ultimately, paying for it with his life is a particularly affecting account.

The roles played by Iran, Jordan, Saudi Arabia and of course, the United States of America in this crisis as outlined by Johny is most telling – ‘The United States which is otherwise very vocal about human rights violations in Asia, Africa and Latin America, always overlooks allegations of war crimes levelled against Israel, even when they are backed by UN investigations’. The author can take a bow because ‘The Original Sin’ is that brave book which emphatically reports the truth as it is without kowtowing to higher powers seeking to establish a narrative that actively endorses genocide.

This book review originally appeared in TNIE magazine

Power Tripping with Pushpa

 

Pushpa 2: The Rule much like its predecessor has proven to be a box office behemoth while being entirely problematic in its unabashed celebration of toxic masculinity despite pretensions to the contrary. While enjoyable thanks to the towering talent of Allu Arjun playing Pushpa with his indefatigable charisma and the entertaining antics of Fahadh Faasil, who can play the villainous clown in his sleep, the film makes no bones about its commitment to catering to the slobbering troglodyte in all of us. This certainly explains Pushpa’s pan – Indian success, while underlining the fact that logic – defying though it is, the film does hold up a mirror to a society that is heedlessly plummeting to the depths of inequity and greed.

In the maximalist world of Pushpa, might and money makes everything right and groovy, not unlike the real world. The viewer is asked to sympathize with the red sandalwood smuggler protagonist because he is a bastard who is constantly harassed and humiliated by his legitimate half - sibling. Pushpa puts up with this though he has killed others without compunction for lesser offenses because he craves acceptance and respect for himself and his long – suffering mum and will stop at nothing to get what he feels is his due. But none of this alters the fact that he is a killer and gangster whose overblown pride can suffer no slight without demanding savage retribution. Yet this feral boy with the massively proportioned ego is celebrated as a God and is rewarded with the slavish devotion of his wife and loyal followers in whose eyes he can do no wrong.

Pushpa pees drunkenly into a pool to get even with an antagonist who sought to humble him and we are asked to cheer his sickening behaviour. Hardly surprising since there is no public place in India that is not treated as a urinal by Indian boys, and we are supposed to look the other way because this is just what boys do, even in doddering dotage.

The first film, Pushpa: The Rise drew flak for its portrayal of women as the weaker sex who need animalistic types to protect them from their bestial brethren when they are not being objectified outright. The latest edition tries to rectify its mistakes by giving the female lead played by Rashmika a rousing monologue about the glory of Pushpa, though it doesn’t hold back from shooting her at pornographic angles in the song sequences. She gets the part of the dream wife who despite rolling in money, spends her days cooking for her husband, singing his praises and performing her conjugal duties with gusto. Consequently, unlike what her character went through in Animal, another ode to the outsized male ego, Pushpa is faithful.

Of course, the film still views a woman’s body as a battlefield for rampaging male pride. It takes great pains to tell women, they are best suited to being the dutiful sidekick to the husband even if he is an unhinged lout or masturbatory fodder for infantile incels as aspiring for more will get them raped or killed. Yet another inedible dose that is the real truth in a fallen world. For all its flaws, Pushpa is inadvertently honest about what is but ought not to be.  

This article was originally published in TNIE Magazine

The Upshot of Trump’s Trans Pledge

 

President Trump has sworn to keep men out of women only spaces and sports, stop ‘child abuse’ in schools that offer puberty blockers, breast binders and other so – called gender affirming care to minors by threatening to cut off federal funding and warning that punitive action will be taken against medical practitioners who perform sex – change procedures. He also insisted that he will make the US Government recognise only two genders (he means sexes) – male and female.

Trans activists and The American Civil Liberties Union will fight these policies in court, but one wonders if they will prevail given that Trump has been given an overwhelming mandate and has the Senate as well as Congressional majority which will allow him to stack the Supreme Court as he sees fit. Gender ideology may not have been the only factor that tipped the scales in favour of Trump, but it certainly was a major one. Especially when Trump’s campaign aired an advert with the wildly popular tagline, ‘Kamala is for they/them. President Trump is for you’ that promptly went viral.

Kamala Harris sought to win over the women voters by bringing up the great abortion debate but ironically, Trump who has repeatedly been accused of sexual assault emerged as the crusader who would safeguard women’s rights and protect them from men who identify as women. The trans issue which saw the Dems greenlight questionable procedures and policies while ignoring or cancelling women who protested, might have been the straw that broke the back of the moderates or centrists and made Trump voters out of them.

Trump is right to address some of these concerns particularly with regard to troubled kids whose parents have been demonised in their eyes by gender idealogues who encourage them to undergo irreversible medical treatments with little proven benefits, without considering the far – reaching physical and psychological ramifications. But rolling back trans rights in its entirety is extreme and unfair.

Many female athletes feel the Olympic bosses let them down long before the Imane Khelif gender row. Their concerns are valid since scientifically, athletes who are intersex or have DSD (Difference of Sexual Development) meaning they appear to be girls at birth but have an internal testis, may have an unfair edge over biological females. This also applies to men who have transitioned. But one cannot help but recall that Indian athletes like Santhi Soundarajan, Dutee Chand and Pinki Pramanik were humiliated and traumatized over ‘failed’ gender tests, that makes one sympathetic to their plight.  

Women who complain about men in skirts being allowed access to female only spaces putting them at risk, make a crucial point especially since no woman anywhere in the world is safe from the threat of rape. But the trans community has endured privation and oppression for too long. Denying them their hard-won rights is cruel and cannot be endorsed in good conscience. We must work twice as hard to create a world that honours women’s as well as trans rights. To do that we need not veer between the extreme right or left but create a space somewhere in the middle where peaceful coexistence is possible, provided we act with common sense and conscientiousness.

This article was originally published in TNIE Magazine

Witness a Warrior Wrestle with Wickedness

 

To its credit, Olympic bronze medallist, Sakshi Malik’s momentous memoir - Witness, does not bother with pussyfooting around what was and is an explosive issue. The Olympian’s style on and off the wrestling mat is simple, straightforward, brutally effective and savagely spectacular. With Jonathan Selvaraj, Sakshi takes no prisoners as she goes after not just the likes of Brij Bhushan Sharan Singh and Amit Shah, but even fellow wrestlers like Vinesh Phogat, Bajrang Punia, Babita Phogat, her own mother (with whom there was an eventual rapprochement) and going so far as to almost but not quite accuse a fellow competitive wrestler of witchcraft. But that’s Sakshi for you.

The reader is taken on a whirlwind journey across Sakshi’s life which is one of strife, triumph, love, loss, tragedy and redemption. It has the vim and verve of a blockbuster while being grounded in raw emotion which is unlikely to leave even the most jaded of readers unmoved. She is as every bit as hard on herself as she is with those who have crossed her. In a poignant portion of her recollections, she reveals how her 7 – year old self would occasionally steal money from her classmates, driven to do so by her poverty. This excuse is trotted out to explain but not defend her actions. Years later when she herself becomes a victim of robbery on multiple occasions, Sakshi philosophizes that it is karma catching up with her. She is also hyper – critical of the ‘mental weakness’ that saw her struggle to stay competitive and relevant in a cutthroat world and her arms which she maligns for being too muscular, with 14 – inch thick biceps.

A rousing saga of a superstar athlete who overcame overwhelming odds to carve out a story of stupendous success, Witness is also a stark, unsparing account of the terrible corruption and incompetence of the sporting system in India. We get a close-up view of fat cat officials and state – approved thugs who far from helping athletes are committed to being hindrances at every turn. Readers will be appalled to learn about officials stopping bouts at the most inopportune moments for photo – ops or to allow a favoured athlete to win over the deserving one, abysmal conditions in training facilities and tournaments held in arenas lacking basic amenities, flight tickets being belatedly booked which sees competitors reaching the international venue a couple of hours before crucial match – ups, money donated from sponsors which would guarantee a regular income for sportspeople being swallowed up by the larcenists in the system, the sexual harassment of female athletes and the active sabotage of entire careers if anyone protests, with the ruling party taking the part of the villains over the sons and daughters of India who covered her in sporting glory despite the very Indian nature of their troubles. It is a modern Indian far-from–a-fairytale of evil triumphing over good, though we all declare otherwise for fear of being labelled anti – national.

Brij Bhushan Singh is not quite the super villain to Sakshi’s Wonder Woman. Rather, in Witness, he represents every lowlife who has ever been undeservedly promoted to power and seeks to compensate for his glaring inadequacies and utter lack of even a modicum of merit by doubling down on the worst of his impulses which includes molesting minors, because he knows he will be protected by other hooligans in high places, just like him. Scathing as her condemnation of Singh and even the Prime Minister is, Sakshi makes it clear that it was the cracks that emerged from within their own ranks that also contributed to the undoing of the wrestlers’ protests. However, she is confident, that the good fight is still being fought, and it will not be long before justice is served. Of course, that is doubtful to say the least, but we can also dare to believe like Sakshi herself did at her lowest, that victory can be eked out of crushing defeat, and it is the deserving who will finally emerge as the victors.

This book review was originally published in TNIE Magazine

The Role of Trauma in enabling Genocide

 

The unpacking of trauma is supposed to be therapeutic. Gone are the days when everyone buried their emotional garbage somewhere in the substratum spaces of the sub – consciousness. This was the done thing in personal and public spheres, worthy of the Beast of Traal, that mind – bogglingly stupid creature which assumes that if you cannot see it, it cannot see you. Nowadays, it is considered healthy to commemorate tragedy, by talking about it constantly, reliving every excruciating moment, and inviting others to share in the agonizing experience.

Few things have more traction on social media than tragedy. When disaster strikes, it is time to celebrate for those looking to gain more followers and instant celebrity. If they play their cards just right with the right amount of bad taste and ruthless manipulation of emotions, there could be a lucrative movie or book deal in there or a jumpstart to a soul -sapping career as an influencer or gatherer of torture porn.

This exacerbation of suffering is usually done in the interest of constructing a narrative of victimhood. When sufficiently politicized and weaponized, it serves to allow so - called victims to feel perfectly justified in victimizing others. We see evidence of this sickening new trend everywhere. All one needs to do nowadays to get away with everything including mass murder is to manufacture a real or imagined fable celebrating victimhood and mourning tragedies dredged up from the past.

The use and abuse of tragedy to inflict even more tragedy is an art form that Israel seems to have perfected. The rogue state’s propaganda machine has been working overtime to mark the one – year anniversary of the savage October 7^th  terrorist attack made by Hamas, where hundreds of Israelis were captured or killed, equating it to the holocaust. In this version, the Israeli government which seems less intent on securing the hostages and more committed to committing genocide in Gaza is keen to portray the righteousness of Israel and insists on full support from its global superpower ally – the USA and the rest of an appalled world since to do otherwise would be unforgivably anti – semitic. Goebbels would be proud!

The Palestinians have been aggressively displaced, killed outright or forced to live in subhuman conditions for decades now. The inhabitants of Gaza have endured an Israeli blockade since 2007. After October 7^th, Israel’s brutal retaliation has resulted in tens of thousands of Palestinians including infants being slaughtered while the rest of the world merely watched. The conflict continues to escalate with Israel detonating entire apartment blocks in Beirut to take out Hezbollah (another terrorist outfit, spawned by Israeli misdeeds) leader, Nasrallah, and using cutting edge technology to decimate their enemies with remote controlled – devices, forcing Iran to enter the fray.

There doesn’t seem to be a peaceful resolution to the war in West – Asia but Israel must not be allowed to use the Holocaust excuse to justify the ongoing Nakba. Terrorism in any form cannot be condoned but the causal agents of evil are guilty too. The rest of the world needs to wake up from woke mode, to tamp down on this chain reaction of genocidal violence and restore peace.

This article was originally published in TNIE Magazine

RAZING RAPE CULTURE

 

The horrific RG Kar case involving the brutal rape and murder of a 31 – year – old trainee doctor in Kolkata and the shocking story about Dominique Pelicot, the 71 – year – old, on trial in France, for drugging his wife, Gisele and recruiting men from an online chatroom to rape her has forced the spotlight back on the lack of safety for women at home and work. The depressing thing about sex crimes is that it just keeps happening without pausing for breath and women continue to be at the receiving end of unspeakable cruelties.

In Gisele’s case, despite having been subjected to this horrendous abuse which was meticulously recorded for nearly a decade where she was raped more than 90 times and her husband allowed an HIV – positive man to rape her six times, she as well as her daughter, Darian who was told that a folder labelled “Around my daughter, naked” had been discovered on her father’s computer, have remained magnificently defiant and waived their right to anonymity insisting that ‘shame changes sides’. The police have identified 50 of the suspects, who are on trial. The defendants face up to 20 years in jail for aggravated rape if convicted.

Contrast this with the RG Kar case, where the systemic failure of the state machinery has been exposed. The Supreme Court has criticized the Kolkata police for their failure to conduct a prompt investigation, allowing a mob to vandalise the hospital and using force against peaceful protestors. This disheartening scenario reminds us of too many rape and murder cases where victims fail to get justice. Conviction rates are low, perpetrators have no fear of punishment and may be seen posing with politicians, when they are not roaming around freely despite having serious allegations against them.

This cannot go on. If small instances of criminal conduct against women and girls are not curtailed, then this prevalent environment which fosters rape and other violent acts will remain unchanged. Men who piss in public, openly leer at women, harass them, and engage in catcalling, voyeurism, frotteurism and unsolicited sexting without bothering about things like decency clearly mark themselves as future sex offenders whose crimes are likely to worsen. Strict action needs to be taken but these offenses are treated as amusing trifles since men will be men and women who complain are hyper-paranoid harpies who just can’t handle ‘harmless fun’.

These so – called lesser offenses reveal the deep-rooted nature of the problem in a society where female infanticide is common because girls are viewed as burdens and liabilities. They fall in love, get themselves raped and bring ‘dishonour’ to the family or put a strain on the family finances because marrying them off entails entertaining exorbitant dowry demands. If they remain single and work for a living, they are misfits who are asking for ‘it’. In this insalubrious climate, women who are not raped and killed are stuck in a living hell where they are undervalued and unwanted, unless it is as meat puppets to be used to slake the venal desires of base men. But #NotAllMen. Thank goodness for small mercies.

This article was originally published in TNIE Magazine

Embracing the chaos: Why a rigid routine for success might be overrated

 A week after the Olympics, I find myself unable to get over it. There were too many heart-rending, gut-wrenching, pelvis-clenching tales of guts and glory. These Olympians train with the white hot fury of true champs. They put their bodies through a world of gruelling grief to go faster, higher and stronger. It makes the rest of their Homo sapien brethren feel like chumps for not biohacking their way to superlative fitness.

These hyper-driven, iron-willed, muscle-bound overachievers log in countless hours at the gym, adhere to terrifying dietary restrictions, and wrestle with personal and professional demons so that they may flaunt bodies with zero per cent body fat and perfect that coldblooded, killing precision soon to be patented by Novak Djokovic. All in the hope that there is a gold medal in their future, which will ensure they make pots of money and become future trivia questions who can afford to actually live in the castles formerly built in their heads.

In a bid to emulate these superior specimens of humankind before we forget about them entirely, I have put together a foolproof, perfectly structured routine, designed to make dazzling achievers out of even those most inclined to be lazy bums. The trick is to get up at the same time everyday, somewhere between or before or after 6 am and 6 pm.

Fuel up on caffeine, your best buddy, and ignore health and wellness influencers who insist it is your worst enemy. While sipping the brew of champions, daydream like you mean it. Visualise all the dazzling things future you is going to achieve in order to make it happen. It is also a way to do so much without doing a thing.

You are what you eat. Which means you are FUBAR. Everything you eat and don’t eat will give you cancer or its equivalent. The only solution is to go back in time to a remote past before pesticides, pollution and plastics ruined everything to source wholesome meals. Since that is not possible, eat whatever you fancy. Or not. It doesn’t matter.

Exercise is important. But you are doing it wrong because whether you do it inside, outside, standing up, lying down or seated, it is proving detrimental to overall wellbeing. Your organs are messed up anyway by microplastics which are everywhere and there is no fixing the situation or the organs. I would recommend more sleep but that is as bad for you as sitting, walking, running and squatting, because you are not doing it right. The same goes double for breathing or just being.

Because as normal people, who spend all the time with their noses buried butt-deep in smartphones, it is impossible to keep up with all the contradictory health info that can save your life. Or screw it up irrevocably. Therefore it makes sense to stick to my routine of floating around somewhere between doing everything that can humanly be managed and nothing at all between napping and daydreaming. Because a life that depends on medals to make it meaningful is bound to be entirely meaningless.

Dealing with the Dark Truth behind Dazzling Talent

 

We live in a world where celebs are universally adored, worshipped even. Inordinate attention is paid to everything they do outside of what made them famous in the first place. Their personal lives are intensely scrutinized by Stans who want to know what they eat, their pet’s potty schedule, and every excruciating detail about the lancing of the boil on their chosen idol’s butt. To the fanatic’s starstruck gaze, celebs are unimpeachable.

It is becoming routine for devotees to suffer a complete nervous breakdown and experience implacable rage, when their God or Goddess is revealed to be just another flawed human being. That beneath the razzle – dazzle and flim -flammery of superstardom, there is the usual unsightly warts, dirt under the overprized rug, and gleaming skeletons in closets that renders all humans as mostly indistinguishable from each other. Not many can admit as much… whether they have been inhaling hydrogen peroxide on Samantha’s recommendation, steaming their vaginas because Gwyneth Paltrow says so or feeling broken and unable to engage with Alice Munro’s short fiction after the shocking revelations made by her youngest daughter – Andrea Skinner, who wrote about how her mother had chosen to stay with her stepfather till he died despite knowing that he had sexually assaulted her when she was 9, continued to do so well into her teens before brazenly admitting to it and accusing her of seducing him.

When ugly secrets about legends are exposed, their admirers feel forced to pledge fealty to the cancel culture club lest extremists on the left insist that liking Neruda or Polanski is akin to supporting the rape of minors and reading Harry Potter makes you an enemy of trans people. Knowing about the creator’s crimes may cast the creation in a different light but enjoying it doesn’t make one a criminal or complicit in a crime. Saying otherwise is simply imprudent and indicative of a repressive cultural environment that is likely to see the emergence of modern day Savonarolas, who only see wickedness in art if the artist does not have a good conduct certificate and will condemn it to the Bonfire of Vanities.

Cultural conscience keepers would disagree, insisting that the inner lives of artists spill over into art and if the former is morally corrupt, then so is the latter. That engaging with the product of vice is tantamount to endorsing evil. However, in these tricky cases, it is not merely a simplistic question of separating art from the artist. It is about accepting that nothing or no one is completely good or bad. That people who are extraordinarily good at their job might be unacceptably flawed in some areas of their personal life. Burying good art on the strength of an artist’s bad deeds is doing the world a disservice. As rational human beings, it might be best to desist from becoming excessively enamoured of greats in their chosen fields and to engage with their work or not based solely on its merits or the lack of it. That is the Goldilocks zone and is just right since it isn’t too much or too little.

This piece was originally published in TNIE Magazine

THE CYCLICAL TRAGEDY OF TOXIC BOOZE

 

Illicit liquor claiming the lives of poor labourers in Tamil Nadu is so very par for the course, that most can hardly be bestirred to protest. However, the staggering scale of the recent tragedy, which took place in the village of Karunapuram in TN’s Kallakurichi has raised eyebrows. Latest reports indicate that the illegal sale of moonshine has claimed as many as 55 lives, with over a 100 hospitalised in critical condition. 6 women are among those dead but nobody wants to talk about the fact that many women drink or are driven to drink by the drunken men in their lives who beat them up and grab what little money they have to fuel their addiction while leaving them to fend for themselves and the children as best as they can. But that is a story for another day. Meanwhile, this is not the first time, spurious liquor has claimed lives in TN, and if the past is any indication, it won’t be the last.

Around this time, last year, 416 arrests were made in Villupuram district (Kallakurichi’s neighbour), stores of hooch were seized and a flurry of transfers were carried out among govt. officials when 25 died and over 50 were hospitalized after downing illegal arrack. In June 2023,  PMK President – Anbumani Ramadoss demanded an audit of liquor outlets run by the TN State Marketing Corporation Ltd. – TASMAC (the state’s cash cow irrespective of which party comes to power) while protesting the continuous deaths brought on by the consumption of TASMAC sold booze and the death of a 35 – year old youth who had died in Salem district following a bout of drinking, facilitated by TASMAC. There are similar cases, going back over the years in TN with the usual round of protests from politicians belonging to the opposition, the call for prohibition (which is hardly the solution), the rounding up of shady sellers of arrack and seizure of their stashes of the devil’s brew and the inevitable transfers to give the impression of taking action against corrupt officials (who actively participate in and enable this ugly business), while actually doing squat. This has been going on for yonks now, with nothing by way of accountability or concrete action to avert a preventable evil. Which is why, one is forced to conclude that since we have chosen to turn a blind eye to the state’s history of deaths resulting from alcohol poisoning, we are doomed to repeat it.

This is also symptomatic of a deeper malaise within the system where politicians as well as well-heeled folks who don’t have to perform hard labour for pitiful wages in order to not be able to make ends meet, are perfectly content to let the poor and wretched remain poor and wretched. Why tsk at the Hindujas who have been sentenced to prison, having been found guilty of exploiting domestic workers when most in India are guilty of the exact same offense? In India, nobody cares that too many have been condemned to die in misery below the poverty line without access to food, clothing or shelter or that even more are denied access to basic requirements like drinking water, 3 square meals, sanitary living environment, electricity or quality education for their children. We would rather ignore the poor when not judging them for drinking themselves to death, and wile away the time, looking at pics of the Ambanis' umpteenth pre – wedding festivities.

But this cannot be allowed to go on. Politicians who talk about prohibition and shutting down TASMAC outlets before the elections without actually implementing any of their promises must be pulled up for their gross negligence and officials responsible for being a part of this godawful business must join the small fry who have been jailed after the tragic deaths at Kallakurichi. Rehabilitation must be provided free of cost to impoverished labourers wrestling unsuccessfully with full-blown addiction. Fair working conditions as well as access to a decent quality of life for all must be a level one priority as befits a developed nation. If we continue to be wilfully uncaring of the plight of the poor in this country, we are complicit every time a tragedy strikes them pushing them deeper into penury and abject misery and deserve the exact same punishment that has been handed out to the Hindujas.

‘River Prince’ book review: An Epic Translation of an Epic

 

Kalki was the consummate storyteller and in his chosen genre of historical fiction, showcased a dazzling skill for resurrecting the past with his immersive style of narration, intricate detailing, humour, masterfully crafted plot, and ability to create memorable characters capable of worming their way into the hearts of readers. His beloved series – ‘Ponniyin Selvan’, a murder mystery and thrilling adventure focuses on Raja Raja Chola, when he was still Prince Arulmozhi Varman, a remarkable youth with all the potential in the world, but beset by a treacherous web of deceit, conspiracy and betrayal within his family and the royal court.

 Nandini Krishnan has undertaken the task of translating his magnum opus from the original Tamil in a ten – part series and is doing a tremendous job. Balancing with aplomb on the tightrope between nailing the essence of the original text and making it more accessible to modern readers who may not necessarily have the patience for verse and lyrical prose at its most descriptive. This reader was charmed by her decision to transliterate the original verses with the translations beneath so that one may savour the exquisite wordplay achieved by a brilliant wordsmith without fumbling unduly for the meaning. The addition of notes enhances the reading experience without ever disrupting the flow as it is replete with nuggets of historical facts and delectable particulars pertaining to Tamil culture and the ancient language itself.

 In her skilled hands, ‘River Prince’, book 3 of Ponniyin Selvan is unputdownable and so deeply engrossing and fun, readers are likely to pester the translator and publishers to complete the series in one go and drop it all together on the market so that they can binge read and re-read to their heart’s content. In the River Prince, readers who in the first two books had only been given tantalizing glimpses of the jewel of the Chola Kingdom who went on to become one of the greatest emperors in history, finally get to meet him, at the exact same moment, as the protagonist and ever popular Vandiyadevan who has risked life and limb to come face to face with the prince, who is in the thick of fighting at Lanka in order to personally deliver a message. But this meeting would not have been possible without the cleverness, resourcefulness, and daring of beautiful Poonguzhali, the boat girl and fan favourite, whose heart and intentions are as unpredictable as the choppy sea she effortlessly traverses.

Meanwhile in Thanjai, Princess Kundavai crosses swords with the exquisite and deadly, Nandini, who has sworn to destroy the Cholas. The beauties who are at cross purposes with each other keep the reader mightily entertained as they battle it out, both determined to outmanoeuvre the other. A secret from the Emperor Sundara Chola’s past which contains a clue to the identity of the mysterious Oomai Rani is also revealed. The rip-roaring pace never lets up and every juicy plot twist leaves one hankering for more.

Kalki himself was unprepared for the impact the Ponniyin Selvan had, and though he is gone, it would have no doubt pleased him to witness the enduring popularity of the book with succeeding generations of readers, thanks to the efforts of committed translators like Nandini Krishnan.

This book review was published in TNIE magazine.

Are we Raising a Generation of Jerks?

 

The world is a horrifying place that can beat the goriest and most grotesque of horror movies hollow on any given day. There are terrors and monsters, frights and chills lurking around every other corner in the spectral forms of war, crime and calculated acts of evil. Most individuals encounter the seven deadly sins – pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath and sloth, on a daily basis and when they aren’t the victims, invariably they are the perps. But one of the most jump – scare inducing phenomena witnessed in recent times, is the behaviour of kids which is often so abhorrent they make the creepy children depicted to chilling effect in scary films with their translucent skin, lank hair, and blank but knowing eyes, seem like cuddly cherubs.

For those who have grown up screaming themselves hoarse after watching Samara from The Ring crawl out of the television to kill her victims in puke-worthy ways, seeing pint – sized brats plonked in front of handheld gadgets in public spaces looking somewhat like Rosemary’s Baby can be deeply unsettling. Similarly, the sight of temper – tantrum throwing tykes rolling on the floor, attacking their caregivers with lethal little fists when denied a third helping of ice cream can be reminiscent of Chucky – the serial killer doll, and can loosen the most turgid of bowels. Snotty adolescents and young adults with their rudeness and entitled ways seem to herald a doomed future where Damien from The Omen is in charge of the planet and his mini acolytes feed the adults to sharks and crocs because they can no longer be entertained by the vacuous content on streaming platforms or porn. 

Naturally, most parents would disagree. In their eyes, their precious boos are perfect little Princesses and Princes who deserve nothing less than everything served up on a platinum platter. Many mommies and daddies are committed to raising their beloved babies in a cocoon of love and indulgence minus discipline which will maximise their chances of becoming a popstar, superstar or sports - star or fast – track their way to an M.D/Ph.D or Noble Prize. Naturally, this means insulating the child from any semblance of normalcy and ensuring they retain the spoilt – brattishness that is being inculcated into their Peter Pan personas so that they never ever grow up to become useful human beings who are not a menace to society.

Since a majority of parents have proved incapable of modelling kindness, decency and generosity in front of their kids, it might be best if parenting were entrusted to trained professionals. We seek expert help when the AC needs to be fixed, when diagnosed with cancer, or if a murder has been committed. Why then do we not do the same when faced with raising children which is the toughest task of all? Since the future depends on gen next, it might be best if we employ radical means and conventional wisdom to make sure they don’t all grow up to be hardened jerks. Like us.

Disclaimer: No brats were harmed in the writing of this article and not all children are ruffians in the making.

This article was originally published in TNIE magazine

THE CATASTROPHIC CANINE CRISIS

 

Cases of strays or pet dogs, routinely attacking citizens and claiming lives, including those of children regularly makes it to headlines. Recently, a 5 – year old girl was mauled by two Rottweilers at a Nungambakkam park leading to a widespread public outcry. This prompted a typical knee – jerk response with the TN govt. declaring a ban against the import, sale, and breeding of 23 dangerous dog breeds including Rottweilers, Pit Bulls, Terriers and Rhodesian Ridgebacks, similar to the one issued by the Central govt. in March only to withdraw it within a matter of hours because the Madras high court and a few others had stayed the directive in response to protests by pet owners and breeders.

This non-resolution to the canine crisis in India is typical and has re-ignited the debate on how to deal with the problem with animal lovers and activists arrayed against concerned citizens demanding stronger guidelines to deal with the strays and aggressive pets. The statistics are chilling. India accounts for about 36 percent of the World’s rabies deaths. Deaths related to attacks by man’s best friends and dog bite cases are staggeringly high. Worse, many such instances go unreported, especially in rural areas. Packs of strays running wild on the streets and roads, are ticking time bombs, endangering themselves as well as the citizenry.

A suitable solution is possible provided committed action is taken by the Animal Welfare Board, state administration and the general populace working in tandem. Strays need to be gathered, vaccinated, neutered, and rehabilitated in dog shelters and sanctuaries to curb the burgeoning stray population and prevent attacks. Concerned citizens need to chip in with their time, money, and a willingness to adopt in order to supplement the efforts of the government. Pet control laws must be strictly enforced with owners ensuring that the four – legged members of the family are responsibly cared for and when taken out in public are suitably collared, leashed, and muzzled if necessary. A common complaint is that many people arbitrarily feed strays without taking overall responsibility for the dog’s welfare which leads to these animals becoming territorial and more prone to attacking the unwary, when they are not fed. Which is why raising public awareness and educating people about how best to protect themselves while dealing with strays, treatment options for rabies, etc. are key to making it possible for humans and animals to coexist without harming each other.

Ending the canine crisis entirely is going to be a challenge simply because heavy funds are required to sterilize and shelter these animals. Municipal bodies that aren’t corrupt or committed to enriching themselves at the expense of others tend to divert the limited resources towards more pressing concerns prioritising human over animal welfare thereby endangering both and allowing a bad situation to worsen. There is also the question of euthanasia or culling unwanted strays demanded by practical necessities, but which raises questions about promoting cruelty to animals and failure to safeguard their rights. A sustainable, lasting, and humane solution to the canine crisis is not impossible to achieve but it remains improbable.

This article was originally published in The New Indian Express.

COUNTERPRODUCTIVE CENSORSHIP

 

Imtiaz Ali’s biopic on Amar Singh Chamkila is a wakeup call. The singer, known as the Elvis of Punjab and his singer – wife, who sang wildly popular ‘dirty ditties’ were gunned down in 1988 and their killers were never caught. Chamkila’s detractors accused him of peddling sleaze with his ribald lyrics and raunchy beats, though the man seemed to have prided himself simply on giving the people what they wanted. Which was mostly horny humour and catchy tunes. After all, sex sells. Then, now, and forever more. But back then as is true even today, folks needed to pretend for the benefit of fellow hypocrites that they were committed to worthwhile pursuits that did not include appeasing the demands of the flesh. Few admitted to listening to his music, let alone liking it even as Chamkila’s records were sold at exorbitant prices on the black market. Many continue to mourn his loss and celebrate his legacy, but our collective commitment to false virtue and callousness makes us complicit with the criminals who hounded, harassed, extorted, and excoriated him in life, before inflicting the violence that ultimately claimed his life. 

This senseless tragedy made me wonder about the kind of dubious individuals who consider themselves the guardians of societal morals while committing deeds so far removed from morality that permanent denizens of hell would weep and curse the degree of monstrosity unleashed. Which begs the question… What manner of creatures are these? What happened that left them incapable of compassion or basic human decency? Did their parents hate them and leave them to fend for themselves in foul cellars while they were off dancing up a storm at raves? Or is it more likely, that in the land where the Kamasutra was written, we have the unhealthiest possible attitude where sex is concerned? Which, in turn breeds hell spawn who feel compelled to inflict pain and death on the innocent over their artistic or personal choices.

Sex is considered ick in this country where it is more socially acceptable to piss than kiss in public. We don’t bother with sex education for our youngsters or even creating a safe space for them to address their questions and concerns about their bodies or desires, preferring to leave that irksome job to pornography and pop culture. Forget the youth, so – called adults are very far from reconciling bodily needs against societal stigma and shame even as they obsess over the sex lives of others which ensures that their own is entirely lousy. The overall dissatisfaction and resentment boil over creating a toxic environment ripe for violent deeds.

Then we turn around and blame films and artists for corrupting the minds of murderers in the making and failure to preserve our supposedly pristine culture. Artists are subjected to endless persecution, simply because they are easy targets unlike the many others who are far more deserving of public ire. Such censorship is almost always counterproductive unless it is directed at the self. If we can muster the courage to look ourselves in the eye, we will think twice before turning a destructive gaze upon others. 

This article was originally published in The New Indian Express. 

Interview with Shinie Antony

Shinie Antony - writer, editor, novelist, and columnist, is the winner of the Commonwealth Short Story Asia Prize, co – founder of the Bangalore Literature Festival and has the dubious distinction of inflicting Chetan Bhagat on India. Her latest novels, Can’t and Eden Abandoned: The Story of Lilith were released this year. In a freewheeling chat, this wordsmith is every bit as witty and wicked as the fierce ‘fallen woman’ from her tales.

1. Most authors hereabouts are jealous that you have managed the incredible feat of releasing two exquisitely crafted novels back-to-back, especially since AI has prompted many a writer to throw in the towel. How did you pull this off?

It was emotional crafting vs. ‘thinking up’. With Lilith I had readymade texts to refer from: Gilgamesh to Talmud, Ben Sira, Genesis 1, Hebrew Bible, George MacDonald… Lilith told her own story, I was like a stenographer taking it down. With Can't I was on my own. I thought both Nena and Tata up, what they wore, what they spoke, their quirks, eccentricities, back stories. Writing Can't was a more complex and conscious process. Lilith happened on its own.

2. Can’t features a woman in her seventies traipsing off into the unknown with a seventeen-year-old, on a quest to track down her husband’s illicit bed mates. What is it about straying spouses and incompetent lovers that unleashes the rabid beast within?

Gender equations are lopsided. We are all going by that one old sepia portrait of womanhood hanging on a peeling wall in a mouldy haveli somewhere. In The Girl Who Couldn’t Love, Rudrakshi looks on from the other side. She will dump a man before he dumps her.

3. In your subversive take on Lilith, the original witch and ‘something which rhymes with it’ from the Bible, lasciviousness is rendered luscious while depravity is downright delicious. What drew you to Lilith, reimagining her as an indomitable force of nature, who refused to surrender, not even on pain of spiritual death and worse?

Like all mythological vamps, Lilith is bold. She has this dangerous beauty that lures men to their doom, and she snacks on little babies. Middle-aged women are proverbially considered invisible. After forty, they say, poof, you’re gone, you no longer exist. Male anger is celebrated, made much of. It is macho and presumed protective. ‘Angry woman’ is supposed to be an oxymoron – even the way we laugh is prescribed in the syllabus: softly, without noise, into your fist etc. if you must be so vulgar as to laugh at all. But this is the thing, ageing is a superpower. Being single is a superpower. Not having kids is a superpower. Female anger is a thing of beauty. An articulate woman in a temper is a work of art.

4. Nena from Can’t as well as Lilith are dealing with the nuclear fallout of a failed relationship. Previously, you wrote about the Girl Who Couldn’t Love. Have you declared war on coupling since most swear by marriage and love despite the damning evidence on hand?

Both books are about female resurrection. Women resurrect all the time. Life leaves them for dead – and each time they are like I’m here, still here. Female foeticide, infanticide by midwives with salt in their fists, honour killing, dowry deaths, widows thrown wherever. As a nation we don't know where to dump our garbage, but we always knew where to dump widows... The planet is divided not into men and women – we are the animal kingdom, after all – but into the powerful and the powerless, predator and prey. If women go take a nap the sati system will be back.

5. What do you think is stopping women from channelling feminine rage and agency to live life on their own terms without having to live in mortal terror of consequences?

Women stop themselves, because they buy into the rumours about themselves. They want to conform and toe the line, do the done thing, say the said thing. But one day they get it. And then heaven help Earth!

An edited version of this interview was published in TNIE magazine.

Rendering Religion Redundant

 

Karl Marx famously disparaged religion as “the opium of the masses”. Though my German is even poorer than my Hindi, I take it that that Marx felt religion was a clever tool wielded by the powerful to not only oppress the overworked and underpaid majority but to make them feel better about their oppression by encouraging them to fixate on faith – based fixes since they couldn’t afford opiates and float their way out of poverty and pain on a pleasurable cloud of oblivion. Since Marx’s time, politicians and their billionaire backers have come up with many innovations to further subjugate the suppressed with liquor guaranteed to end suffering via cirrhosis of the liver, freebies and pornography to delight the heart and loins, and cheap entertainment accessible 24/7 on mobile phones. Religion, however, remains the favourite with the ridiculously and rabidly religious rapidly becoming a plague on an already diseased civilized world.

Ironically, though the core doctrine of most religions endorses love, peace and compassion, the revival of faith-based conflict and violence witnessed in recent times has seen religion commonly associated with hate, intolerance, and heightened aggression. Even as the situation worsens in Gaza and people across the world are slamming Israel and its allies as perpetrators and enablers of genocide, the slaughter of the Islamist population in that contested strip of ‘holy land’ continues unabated. Religious fanaticism has raised its ugly head elsewhere too.

In China, Uighur Muslims are routinely persecuted and herded into labour camps, as are the Rohingya in Myanmar. In the middle East, Sunni and Shia Muslims battle it out for domination as do the Muslims and Catholics in Bosnia and Kosovo. Islamic extremists wage their global jihad undeterred by concentrated efforts to shut them down. Hostilities have increased against religious minorities be they Hindus, Muslims, Jews, Buddhists, and Catholics in many parts of the world. Closer home, in India the ruling party has been accused of actively promoting Hindu and Hindi interests to the detriment of all else.

To be fair, religion and the religious leaders who are not actively invoking violence in the name of faith have done some good in this divided world. The devotees who have not become radicalized or taken up terrorism have actively involved themselves with helping the poor, marginalized and victims of war. Relief and charitable efforts have been made possible through the efforts of the faithful mobilized by temples, churches, mosques, synagogues working in tandem with humanitarian agencies and welfare organizations. Interfaith dialogues have also facilitated initiatives to promote peace, human rights and non – violence.

Even so, if the security blanket of religion is taken away it is possible that people wouldn’t be so preoccupied with the futile effort to secure a ticket to paradise using the currency of blind faith, prayer, and ritual worship. Without the highs and lows of religious relief they may be forced out of their collective torpor to address the widening wealth gap and income inequalitythat impacts them directly. Combined effort might even create a better world where all are equal and there is absolutely no need for a toxic drug like religion.

 

This article was published in TNIE Magazine.

MAHASHIVARATRI 2024

 

Mahashivaratri 2024 was a tremendous experience. Nityanjali, our dance troupe performed in Thiruvaiyaru (10:00 pm) and Thiruvidaimarudur (4:00 am). As always, it was a lovely experience. The insane travelling with the packed schedule and rehearsals can be gruelling but the entire process is never less than amazing thanks to the good company, yummy food (which included homemade murukkus), surprisingly clement weather, live music, dance, and a taste of the divine in all its sacred and scary glory.

While people’s faith is entirely private and all are entitled to their beliefs it has to be admitted that the faithful, especially when they turn up in droves for religious celebrations can be a public nuisance. I was appalled by the surging crowds at the temples and the terrifying lack of crowd control or event security which would guarantee the safety of the heaving masses which included the elderly, babies, and disabled people. There was zero consideration for others as I witnessed folks forcing their way into narrow entry points which doubled as exits, uncaring that they were shoving and hurting others. Traffic snarls were apparent in every road at all hours of the night and the lack of civic sense was apparent in the way people discarded paper cups, plastic bags, and unfinished food across every inch of available space be it a temple or toilet. 

The risk of a stampede loomed over our heads although, it felt like I was probably the only one who was deeply concerned about getting crushed beneath the filth encrusted feet of the faithful. (On a related note, why are holy places in India such an unholy mess?) The devotees seem to think that just because temples are sacred spaces nothing bad can happen never mind that history and recent news is filled with tragic events where hundreds lost their lives in stampedes which occurred during large gatherings at temples when religious festivities were being observed. Examples include stampedes in Vaishno Devi Temple (2022), Rajahmundry (2015), Andhra during the Pushkaram festival, Gandhi Maidan (2014) in Patna after Dussehra, Ratangarh temple (2013) in MP during Navratri. Incidents have also been recorded in Puri Juganath, Kumbh mela, Sabarimala, etc.

Mercifully, our dance troupe stuck it out by taking care of each other and keeping a wary eye against the more aggressive of God’s fervent followers of all genders who are not above using their chests, elbows, and stomping feet to clear a path. There is always the risk of chain snatchers, pickpockets, and perverts as well. Surely there is a way to celebrate religious occasions without endangering life and limb? The divine can be truly experienced only in silence, solitude and space not in cramped enclosures where hapless deities are caged in sanctum sanctorums almost as a defence against the insane crowds who will literally kill for a glimpse of their God.

FRUSTRATING FOMO AND FINDING FULFILLMENT

 

There is only one thing worse than being inundated with invitations to an endless array of ‘happening’ events I feel compelled to attend even though I would rather be chilling in bed with a show and cheese popcorn on the side and that is not being inundated with invitations to the aforementioned shindigs. That is when I find myself staring morosely at the Pringles, I am going to hate myself for scarfing down while watching Mike Flanagan’s latest attempt at elevated horror on Netflix, liking him a lot and hating him a little for having such a happening career, forcing me to contemplate the many boxes left unticked on the achievement front. Between episodes, I scroll aimlessly through social media feeds where everyone seems to be doing something that could pass for exciting, aggravating the ever-present FOMO. For the uninformed, that is the ‘fear of missing out.’

Some of us are preoccupied with ageing and the terrifying inevitability of it prompts us to counter this by packing every single moment with momentous activity, because nobody wants to confront death, filled to the brim with regret. As some tiresome wiseacre unwisely said, once upon a time, you only ever regret the things you didn’t do. Which is why I am forever trying to push myself out of comfort zones with the intention to broaden the horizon a bit just so I can feel that I am doing something worthwhile with life’s finite supply of time. This commitment to future me who is on the brink of kicking the bucket and needs to be comforted by a barrage of memories celebrating glowing achievements and epic milestones is exhausting and endlessly frustrating. What is the point of berating myself for not doing enough when it ends up feeling like it is all too much?

Nowadays, I am teaching myself to do little things that generate fulfilment even if it does not qualify as useful or productive enough to be featured on my resume or Insta post. I might be missing out on doing something awesome by saying no to an invitation because my gut registered a protest but that no longer feels awful. Nor does it seem like a catastrophe of earth – shattering proportions because invitations aren’t forthcoming, except when it does. But that is nothing a soul – satisfying activity like an extra hour of yoga, playing with my pups, or a long conversation with a good friend can’t fix.

As a society we have become fixated with using time efficiently to rack up economic as well as experiential gains, that will allow us to fully flourish. We are expected to maximise not just work but leisure time, because our value is calculated by the things we do or at least seem to be doing. All the damn time. This ‘let us live life to the fullest’ and ‘make every moment the best one yet’ business is a crock of crap guaranteed to kill us quicker via hypertension. There is nothing wrong with ambition and aspiration, but it is also okay to simply survive without feeling the need to thrive all the time.

This article was published in TNIE Magazine

A QUESTION OF MEAT AND MORALITY

 

An abiding love for mythology can never be a bad thing and yet, somehow, we seem to have found a way to take something wonderful, toss it into the blender with faux Hindutva dogma, distort it past all recognition and use it to serve vested interests keen on divisive politics.

How did it come to this?

 For starters, everybody, it seems, is an expert after glancing through a book or two and listening with half-an-ear to granny’s tales, speed – reading a lengthy Whatsapp forward or having returned from a session with the friendly neighbourhood storyteller who likes to expound at length on Puranic lore while high on bhang. Considering themselves scholars who know everything there is to know about the veritable sea of obscure, oftentimes, contradictory facts that constitutes Indian mythology, uber-patriotic pests feel free to clump together and lynch or abuse those who are not infected with whatever it is that has turned their brains to mush and hearts to lead.

Nobody is exempt from the excesses of these modern-day rakshasas, but the so-called ‘evil eaters' of meat in general and beef in particular have been targeted with tragic results. While there is no denying that the cow is revered in Indian mythology, there is plenty of evidence to suggest that meat—any meat—was consumed with relish by the ancients, including the Brahmins. In fact, there is a tale from the Periya Puranam, which reveals how Shiva paid a visit to his devotee, Siruthondar, in disguise as a poor but haughty Brahmin and insisted that he must be served non-vegetarian (maamsam) cuisine. Being a poor man, who could not afford to buy any food let alone meat, the great man, slew his son, made his wife cook the choicest cuts and serve it. For this act of faith, which in this day and age would be considered to be the foulest kind of murder (rightly so), he received an express pass to partake of the vaunted delights of heaven and remains revered as one among the 63 Nyanmars. 

Sage Agastya, similarly, according to a tale from the Mahabharata, was a gourmand with a partiality for meat, and consumed the demon Vatapi, with great gusto. This rakshasa had a weird fetish for taking on the form of a goat, which his brother Ilvala would chop up and serve with misleading generosity to the Brahmins, some of whom would regularly bully their way into homes demanding 'maamsam' meals uncaring whether their unwilling hosts had the means to serve up such lavish feasts featuring meat as the main course. As for the rakshasa brothers hellbent on teaching the Brahmins a lesson, once the mutton had been greedily consumed, Vatapi would tear his way out from the entrails of the gluttonous Brahmins killing them instantly. They carried on this murderous sport for many years, till Agastya, famed for his iron constitution and superior powers of digestion put paid to their serial killer ways and prompted his fellow Brahmins to re-examine their dietary preferences.

 In fact, there is reasonable evidence to suggest that it was not till after the Bhakti movement believed to have taken place in Medieval times which saw a large-scale reformation and revival of Hinduism, that Brahmins adopted vegetarianism as a way of life. Prior to that it was the Jains and Buddhists who endorsed vegetarianism in the interests of upholding the rights of all living creatures, although by that logic plants should also be spared in this writer's opinion and we should all learn to subsist on love and not - so - fresh air.

 Chew on that for a bit before forming erroneous notions about how best to enforce the glories of a distant past that may or may not have even existed!

 If cannibalism in the case of Siruthondar and Agastya was not exactly frowned upon back in the day, then couldn’t there be a remote possibility that more than a few of the ancients especially revered beings born into the Kshatriya race had a partiality for meat? And surely, it is probable our famously compassionate gods would have partaken of the non - vegetarian fare offered to them in worship mainly because they cannot possibly be the jerks their extremist devotees clearly are?

 Recently, a furore was raised over the question of whether Rama ate meat. As a Kshatriyan Prince, it would appear to be in the affirmative. The warlike caste’s preferred pastime was hunting and since waste was the only thing that was considered a criminal offense in those days, it goes without saying that slain game was cleaned, cooked, consumed with the hide, claws, horns and every bit of the carcass stripped for parts to make sure that nothing went to waste. When Rama, Lakshmana and in a later age, the Pandavas, were sent into exile, they were allowed to take only their weapons and a basket into the forest so that they could live off the land using their skill as hunter gatherers. And it goes without saying that meat was part of their diet. However, insisting that the Princes subsisted solely on fruits, roots, nuts and berries which may have been included in their meals but not limited to it is pushing the limits of credibility. For all we know, even the fabled Akshaya Patra gifted to Yudhishtra by Surya, the Sun God might have produced a dish to delight the tastebuds of the true carnivore!

Some scholars point to a verse in Valmiki Ramayana where it is suggested that Rama took an oath with his mother, Kausalya, bearing witness that he would not touch meat for the duration of his exile. This is hardly definitive proof of anything because Valmiki’s Ramayana was never ever set in stone. Originally, narrated orally, the epic was verbally handed down for generations before written texts as we know it today emerged. The narrative must surely have undergone many changes over the eons in keeping with ever changing norms and codes of conduct, that are inevitable with the passing of the ages. Therefore, insisting that there is only one authentic version of Valmiki’s Ramayana, preserved exactly the same as when it emerged from his lips, disregarding the many regional texts and folk tales based on the Ramayana is an inaccurate as well as fanatical, extremist way of looking at things, bereft of the spirit of tolerance, compassion and acceptance that is one of the most beautiful aspects of Hinduism.

Surely, the gods in all their infinite wisdom would not see it fit to abuse, mistreat, or condemn to the thousand hells of Yama those among their mortal offspring who consume meat or live life as they see fit? Would they condone the senseless violence, hatred, intolerance and killing that is carried out in their name? I should certainly hope not.

Ultimately, anybody who knows anything at all about mythology will tell you that it is a constantly shifting narrative that is metamorphosing even as this is being written, and 100 years hence will be unrecognisable from what we know of it today. Therefore, it would be lovely if people stopped using mythology, religion, morality, or any of the flimsy excuses being bandied about for their insupportable and unconscionable behaviour that is a disgrace to this nation.

 

P.S: I have written many versions of this over the years. This piece contains bits and pieces from older ones (links below) and I have added inputs based on current issues, which is mostly more of the same old crap.

 When Mythology is Misused and Misunderstood

Vegetarianism does not Equal Virtue