[Reader-list] What's pain got to do with it?

[Shuddhabrata Sengupta]

Dear Gargi, dear all,

Welcome to the latrine cleaners !

I think not knowing when and how to stop is a Bengali problem. Maybe
even a bengali boddi problem. Since I seem to have it too. And em, just
look at the terribly long winded embarrassment of my name, not just a
sen, but a secret sen, a sen-gupta. Cchi cchi cchi. Ki lojja.  How
terribly our loquacious ancestors have burdened us with the curse of
interminable conversation, or as we say in Bangla, koch-kochani.

many thanks for your marvellous contributions, and I am absolutely
riveted by your family history and your father's ability to laugh at and
with pain. And though our visions may or may not be divergent, I think 
our jokes are still the same, and and I think that you will agree with 
me the ability to laugh is just as important,  that if not more, than 
the ability to make or unmake revolutions, or to achieve enlightenment.
When I read the Dhammapadda, or the Tri Pitaka, the one thing I know is 
that the Buddha had a great sense of humour. For instance, once, when 
asked which country was the best, he wryly responded by posing a counter 
question "show me one without sorrow and then I will have the ability to 
answer this question". I have always claimed him as an early inspiration 
for the lapse of my nationalism.

Maybe I will dig into some stories myself, from our dark family closet,
some days, weeks, months, years later, if I ever have the guts that is.

But for now,

Here is a poem by Khalil Gibran, which I found quoted on a very
interesting website called Yamberzal, brought out by some young people
in the part of Kashmir that is occupied, no not by the republic of la la
land, (the republic o la la land only colonizes my right brain) but by
the Republic of India. You know, the Jai Pind, Jai Hind one. The one
that gets the artillery salute when the missiles are let out to shine on
26 January. The one that is currently being sponsored by Airtel, or was
it Motorola. Anyway, I digress again, bad bengali boddi habit.

I am not a great fan of Khalil Gibran, but given the current threads,
that bring pain, hyenas, laughter and tears so often and so vividly, I
thought that it might be of interest,

------------------------------------------------
  The Story of the Hyena and the Crocodile
by Khalil Gibran

Upon the bank of the Nile at eventide
a hyena met a crocodile and they stopped
and greeted one another.

The hyena spoke and said
"How goes the day with you, Sir?"

And the crocodile answered saying,
'it goes badly with me.
Sometimes in pain and sorrow I weep
And the creatures always say,
"They are but crocodile tears",
and this wounds me beyond all telling'

Then the hyena says,
"You speak of your pain and your sorrow.
but think of me also for a moment,
I gaze at the beauty of the world, its wonders and its miracles
and out of sheer joy I laugh, even as the day laughs?

And then the people of the jungle say,
"its but the laughter of the hyena."
---------------
I found this website (Yamberzal), somewhat by accident, while re-reading
vitriol from Pawan Durani, Rashneek Kher and someone else called
Vishakha, where else, but on the comments section of the 'Jashn=e=Azadi'
blog at -

http://kashmirfilm.wordpress.com/2007/03/13/screening-news-1/

This is to underscore (okay, pointlessly, but what the heck) that it is
an utterly shameless lie that critical views of Sanjay Kak's film
automatically meet the fate of the censor, on the said blog. Follow the
links and I will rest my (heavy suit-)case

Anyway, I am a bit tired of the  A.R.K.P machine, and this conversation
has moved on to vastly more interesting things.So, if you scroll down
the right side of the webpage you hit a series of interesting links
including one to Rashneek's Blog - 'Ephemeral Existence', and in the
blog roll just above Ephemeral Existence is 'Yamberzal'

http://yembarzal.blogspot.com/

Now go to
http://yembarzal.blogspot.com/2007/04/other-side.html

and read what is written there - a very young person, a young Kashmiri
muslim in a blog that is clearly sympathetic to the notion of 'azadi' as
is evident from the content of the rest of the blog, is anguished at the
violence that 'her' side is dishing out, her voice condemns the Indian
army, but she is just as angry at how the indiscriminate use of violence
by militants, grenade attacks in public places have led to sorrow. Her
anger is against those who claim to act on her behalf just as much as it
is directed against the state power that oppresses her.  I have yet to
see even a fraction of this capacity to be self reflexive or self
critical in any of the blogs and websites that emanate from the 'Panun
Kashmir' armada, of which A.R.K.P are but an advanced flotilla.

Elsewhere in this blog (Yamberzal) there is much that is of interest. 
There is anger, sorrow, pain, but there is also laughter, gentleness, 
enthusiasm and very high spirits. It isn't just pain, pain, pain, pain 
like a drill in our heads. And remember, this comes from young people 
who are too young to remember or know what a Kashmir without those 
700,000 soldiers sent by the occupying power even looked like, or felt 
like. They have been at the blunt end of the occupation.

I have found many voices like this in Kashmir, young people who have not
surrendered their minds and their souls to a one dimensional narrative
of victimhood and an endless litany of their agony. It takes time to
draw out their narratives of torture, and everyone has that narrative,
but it is not dished out as a calling card. And I respect that spirit.
The spirit that is able to look at me, an 'Indian'to them, and look me
in the eye with honesty and friendship and without accusation, without
ever confusing how they relate to me as a person who happens to be an
Indian citizen with what they think about the state machinery that holds
them in subjection. It has never made it impossible for them to share
laughter with me, and the ability to have conversations about lots of 
other things, difficult things, pleaurable and painful things, and even 
the things that all our own people ('their' militants / 'our' soldiers -
yuck what an ugly, clumsy, stupid 'us and them' formulation, but it will
do for the moment) do that none of us, neither me, nor them, can be 
proud of.

Sometimes they and I meet at the bridge where the people some would call
traitors meet, coming from opposite sides.

And believe me, just as, despite, what A.R.K.P says, us 'la-la landers'
have very little influence or power (and nor do we seek any, but if we
had some, why would we be so ineffectual in ending the occupation? and
can he tell us where to get some, power, I mean, is it going cheap?), so
too, they, the ones in occupied Kashmir who chafe at the frightening
menace of the Indian army and the (no, I won't say 'equally', because it
isn't and can't be 'equal', so lets not play a parlour game about
balance here) can be at the receiving end of harsh violence of some 
'militants'. Because soldiers and partisans do not have much patience 
with nuances and shades and ambiguities, and the difficult task of 
knowing that it is difficult, not easy, to be loyal. We meet on very 
difficult ground. (Apologies for these very convoluted sentences, which 
should have met an editor before they left the keyboard)

Thanks Gargi, I thought that you might enjoy this link, and the story of
the Hyena and the Crocodile.

Shuddha

Meanwhile, I am still waiting for Pawan to tell me whether he has, or
has ever had any regrets over the violence that has been perpetrated in
his name. Come on, try playing 'traitor-traitor' it can be fun, patriots
only have anthems, our songs are a little rusty, maybe, but we also have
a sense of humour, and no we wont charge you money for it.




Gargi Sen wrote:
> Hello Everybody,
> I am not a writer but have nevertheless discovered the two banes in the life
> of a writer. First, how to start, and second, how to stop. As I have merely
> crossed the first hurdle I crave your indulgence. And apologies for another
> mail addressed to a few people on the list.
> Gargi
> 
> Dear M. Ray (and of course my young friends Aditya, Rashneek , Kshemendra ,
> Pawan and Rahul)
> 
> M. Ray I am a little annoyed with you. How could you forget my Œboddi¹
> lineage and its implication? While the non-Bengalis on this list will not
> know what I am talking about you should know better. Because either you are
> a Bengali or you know enough about Bengalis - who insist on seeing the world
> divided into two simple camps: Bengalis and non-Bengalis - to so astutely
> identify my roots. But how could you forget the boddi bit? After all most
> all boddi women, and men, are enormously proud of their levels of education.
> And to the best of my knowledge, from that part of the world, after the
> Khasi women, I believe it was the boddi Bengali women who took to education
> like fish to water. And even you will agree that to construct convoluted
> arguments some form of education is necessary. So please do correct your
> definition.  
> 
> The term Boddi basically delineates ­ draws the boundary of -  caste. And in
> Bengal - Bengal/ West Bengal/ East Pakistan/Bangladesh/ whatever, or if you
> want another take Bangla/ Goudiya/ Kalinga/ whatever, for sake of simplicity
> lets go with a concept called Bengal that is not connected to geography or
> nation but is perhaps necessary to root the Bengali - who still insist that
> the world has two simple of camps of Bengalis and non-Bengalis. (I won¹t use
> Language as a definer for fear of digressing into another messy story.) So
> in this concept called Bengal emerges a caste called Boddi. Stuck between
> the Brahmin and non-Brahmins they insist on being more on the side of
> Brahmins than non-Brahmins. The men wear the thread, the death-retreat is
> for 11 days as versus 13 of the non-Brahmin Bengalis. But you know because
> caste is far more vigilant than human wishes you can¹t be more or less, you
> can only be this or that, or here or there. So the Boddis, grudgingly
> allowed many Brahmin privileges including education are denied the
> penultimate one: access to God. They can¹t carry out the ritual of religion.
> That is kept for the Brahmins only.
> 
> But despite their attempts at creating an exclusive space the Bengali
> Brahmins are considered a bit outside it all by other Brahmins. As are the
> Kashmiri Brahmins. Both eat meat you see. I mean the Brahmins from the
> concept called Bengal and Kashmir eat meat. In the concept called Bengal,
> quite a few hundred years ago my sir-namesake, one Ballar, invited 7
> Bhramins from Ujjain to initiate the caste system and watched in mute agony
> his personal love life wash away in the deluge he unleashed. I am sure you
> know better than me the story of genesis of caste in Kashmir. You are after
> all the RIK. And you might know that in these conceptual states, having
> begun late, they took to caste with the zeal of the new converts and forgot
> to watch out for its evolution. Caste, though rigid, is not ossified and
> continued to evolve and Brahminism went on to marry the virtuous
> vegetarianism. The two Brahmins forgot to join the brigade and hence earned
> contempt from the brethren. But perhaps both these communities, with
> different histories, are similar in their love for food, and maybe they
> didn¹t really want join the brigade fully because that would have been very,
> very inconvenient. Where will be the great cuisines of Bengal (or Kashmir)
> be without the flesh of dead animals? Although I must admit the Bengalis
> tried quite hard. They have almost managed to convince themselves and quite
> a fw others that fish is basically a vegetable from the sea.
> 
> The logic of Caste is compelling and seductive. It delineates humans into
> fixed boundaries of hierarchy determined at birth. At its root it provides
> two very interesting principles: the first the doctrine of inequality (some
> are born higher and thus must fare better than those born lower), the second
> of divinity ­ God decreed that some are born higher and some lower, so
> accept without question, it¹s authorised by God you see.
> 
> Interestingly, because god is not restricted to  the private domain of the
> practicing Hindus many other religions/ systems too accept god, and as a
> corollary, caste. Its simply one of the most brilliant ruling-class
> strategies. How very wonderful if the subjects believed that they deserved
> to be ruled, and how even more wonderful if they believed that they deserved
> to be ruled by the present ruler. So Islam, the most liberal and emancipated
> organised religion at its time of emergence, an organised religion that
> recognised even say the rights of women to property and partner, comes to
> India through many routes but conveniently adopts a version of caste system
> when its readying to rule. See how could a Thakur converting to Islam for
> convenience call a dhobi convert his brother? The roots of the  Dalit
> Christian is newer still. Even the newest organised religion Sikhism ,
> drawing heavily from philosophies of Islam, couldn¹t resist playing footsie
> with caste. 
> 
> So M. Ray, call me a Hindu if you must but don¹t forget the boddi bit, its
> important for this narrative.
> 
> Hitler, drawing up the blue print of a ruling philosophy draws upon a
> treatise of Nietzsche who draws this one from the Manusmriti written by one
> Manu, the man who writes down the rigid structures of caste. You see in the
> 1920s Hitler and his party the Nationalsozilistiche Deutsche Arbeiterpartei
> (NSDAP) or the Nazi party, outside of a small groups of fanatical Bavarian
> Nazis, are considered to be vulgar rabble-rousers.  When he becomes the
> chancellor in 1933 the percentage of vote is a mere 33% and people predict a
> demise of the Nazis. But soon all that changes and the Nazis win the support
> of the majority of the majority ­ they are able to convince the majority
> about the superiority of some over other, a doctrine drawn from India,
> defining the Aryan presented as Fascism. Films played an important role in
> this shift. Film after film extolled a few principles and themes. The two
> common and recurring themes in the Nazi films are blut und bloden (blood and
> soil) and Volk und Heimat (People and homeland).  The films though might not
> have been so effective without ensuring that these were the only films seen.
> All other voices needed to be blocked without blocking out all other voices
> propaganda looses its power.
> 
> Can you begin to see the torturous route of history? Don¹t the Nazi themes
> still ring true? Blood and soil, people and homeland? The blocked voices?
> Can you hear them? 
> 
> Another day if you remind me I¹ll tell you the story of Leni Reifenstahl and
> the persistence of memory. No not the painting, but images that she created
> that live on till date, images that dazzle, captivate and seduce. But allow
> me today to tell you a quick story of my grandfather, the father of my
> father the socialist. You see M. Ray my grandfather fitted your bill better
> than me ­ today I am not many of those you describe me as ­ my grandfather
> is/ was. Only in his case I am not sure about secular. Wonder what it means
> really. Anyway my grandfather being a Bengali, Hindu and a refugee to boot
> was probably a part of that bunch of backboneless cowards who couldn¹t
> protect hearth or home. Maybe. But his problems were a little more
> complicated. You see when he left, another bunch of people, some of who had
> also butchered and raped and destroyed home and hearth, looked after his
> property and practices ­ of a Hindu ­ with their entire strength. How does
> one wish them away?
> 
> You see, till Ayub Khan makes an appearance in the scene the borders were
> open, with some minor restrictions. And my grandfather returned faithfully
> each year, with his family, to carry out the yearly pujas. For some
> inexplicable reason when he left in 1947 his neighbours, mostly Muslims,
> looked after his house and the family god, the narayanshila which literally
> is a black stone, but still needed to be fed, bathed and prayed to twice a
> day. They ensured that that happened.  Look at the irony. My grandfather and
> his family and progeny were not, and are still not, allowed to touch the
> narayanshila. Because only Brahmins can touch Gods, even when they are mere
> stones representing god. The Muslim neighbours looked after not only the
> property but also the narayanshila and ensured that a Brahmin did the
> needful daily. Of course this story ended in 1952. And as he was not going
> to be able to return my grandfather gifted the house to the local villagers
> with a request to run a girls school, slipped the stone/ god into his pocket
> and never returned. The black stone needed to be purified. It had been
> touched by a non-Brahmin. But to the best of my knowledge the girls school
> is still going on in one of my ancestral villages called Itna, nestled in
> the banks of Madhumati, in the disrict of Jessore (or Jashore) in
> Bangladesh.
> 
> Don¹t mistake me my friends Aditya, Rashneek , Kshemendra , Pawan and Rahul.
> My family has also seen the other side. What I call the horror stories. But
> how can I see one and not see the other? And you know,  stories like my
> grandfather¹s are quite common too. I grew up in the western part of India.
> Stories of neighbours protecting neighbours land, house, mango orchards
> abound. In case you haven¹t noticed, I am now talking about Hindu¹s
> protecting the property of Muslims who left. So teach me to how do I achieve
> your vision? The ability to ignore and focus, or focus by ignoring? How do I
> see one and not see the one next to it? How did you achieve this, and what
> did you do to get it?
> 
> Is it the steadfastness of Arjuna that inspires you? His ability to shut
> everything out and shoot the moving target above his head, through a
> whirling wheel to be seen only by looking down into its image reflected in
> water? But even Arjuna dared to step out and explore. Not just out of his
> kingdom but out of one of the strictest the boundaries of human race, that
> of gender. As Brihannalla. For a whole year. Maybe that¹s why poor soul
> couldn¹t quite make it as a Hindu icon. Its difficult indeed to ignore
> Brihannala, or the questions s/he raises.
> 
> Remember my father the socialist? He was a socialist till his death. But
> when I was young, somewhat younger than you Aditya today, I became
> fascinated  by the words on the tombstone: philosophers have interpreted the
> world, the point however is to change it. So I became passionately committed
> to changing the world and my father the socialist and I argued endlessly,
> passionately, continuously, till he died. I accused him and his ilk of
> playing footsie with both Gandhians and Congress and thereby legitimising
> both, later I accused him and his mentor of legitimising the Jan Sangh. He
> accused me and my ilk of worse. In fact Rahul, had he been alive today he
> would have happily, and wickedly, helped you enlarge your list and perhaps
> your vision too. Anyway, we just didn¹t agree, on most things. But when I
> worked on my first film, I must have been a little older than you are today
> Aditya a film called the Right To Life  that investigated the Jehanabad
> massacre, he came to see it. Even though I was a lowly assistant to the
> assistant, even though he vehemently opposed everything the film espoused.
> He came and watched. He thought the the film was utter crap, not just
> politically but craft-wise. Today, had he been alive I might have told him I
> too think so, today. Anyway, the film had disturbed him in some ways, in the
> violation of human rights it talks of, and my father the socialist, the
> champion of unpopular causes organised many screenings of this film.
> Remember it was a film with oppositional politics, remember it wasn¹t very
> well made, and incidentally his daughter¹s name didn¹t get any significant
> credits (just in case you think ah ha! nepotism!) but he thought there was
> some redeeming feature and the film needed to be seen and argued about. Even
> if he hated most of it.
> 
> Today I wonder how was that possible? And tell me M. Ray what makes you
> think  I, or my family, have not witnessed pain or run away from truth? Just
> because I don¹t talk about one kind of personal pain on a public list? Has
> it even occurred to you that pain needs to be shared in different ways? Have
> you seen Jash-e-azadi? Dare to see it, or at least see if you have the
> courage to even think about seeing this film.
> 
> My father the socialist also used to tell us stories. You see he loved many
> things in his life, many many things: unpopular causes, his three pegs of
> whisky every night, story telling, tinkering with new electronic gadgets,
> but most of all he loved arguing, and nothing pleased him more than a well
> crafted argument. Do you see? Which side the argument came from didn¹t
> matter, the craft did. Now you should know M. Ray that to craft a good
> argument you have to know a lot. So my father, a man without any formal
> degree, read extensively, and everything. Because what used to annoy him was
> a lazy argument. Does it surprise you if I say that I have seen this deeply
> irreligious man read the Gita many times, and even the vedas and upanishads,
> and of course various katha mritas of various saints from that concept
> called Bengal? It shouldn¹t surprise you but I am afraid it will.
> 
> So allow me to advance you a simple argument I learnt as a child on his lap.
> I can¹t be a Hindu, and a secular, together. Not possible. Secular is
> without religion and Hindu is a kind of a religion. The two don¹t go
> together. Like night and day, both exist, can turn into each other, but
> can¹t exist together in the same time and space.
> 
> I won¹t tell you how my father would argue that there is no religion called
> Hindu, lets leave that for another post. But I understand your problem. You
> are trying to etch my profile, delineate my politics and position to create
> a distinct identity. And as such delineation is indeed difficult if not
> impossible you are condemned forever to using contradictory definitions like
> secular Hindu. Together. Forever. Because that vision, that focused vision,
> that focused-by-ignoring-others vision cannot see the contradiction,
> certainly not an argument you don¹t agree with.
> 
> And you forgot the boddi bit. I hope another sir-namesake called Ronen has
> redeemed himself in your eyes somewhat? Made up a little for the other two
> sir-namesakes? The first a crowned beauty, who has a child without a husband
> and brazenly talks about it in public, and the second who develops those
> annoying theories that put people before money and leads to the ESG scheme,
> and gets the noble prize to boot?
> 
> Why is the boddi bit necessary? You see I lost my faith. My father died with
> his faith intact; his deep faith in humanity and his lack of faith in god ­
> this lack of faith by the way requires faith of truly immense kind. I lost
> my faith in my lack of faith in faith. I instead found a man wearing a blue
> suit who publicly converted to Buddhism with his people  in Œ56. He had said
> - I am born a Hindu but I will not die as one. He died shortly after this
> public act. Many years before this he had also publicly burned the
> Manusmriti.  By such public performances he added another complicated layer
> to an already messy story of our lives and times and I lost my sense of
> faith. Because while I can reject Hinduism I can no longer reject caste as a
> social construct. Do you see M. Ray why the boddi bit is necessary? So today
> I perhaps no longer have the same vision as Shuddha. But does it matter
> really? I still love his posts. Especially the precisely crafted arguments,
> the nuggets of information, the visuals in the words. And where is the
> problem in this? What¹s the problem in accepting differences? To live with
> differences? But to live with lazy arguments is another ball game
> altogether.
> 
> You see, my friends Aditya, Rashneek , Kshemendra , Pawan and Rahul allow me
> to be straight forward. I have two problems with most of your posts. Your
> arguments are weak. You can¹t keep taking recourse to pain as an argument.
> Arguments need to be constructed and pain unfortunately can only be felt. So
> to talk only of pain, over and over and over again without adding anything
> else, apart from abuse and false accusations, has the danger of skidding
> your position into the terrain of boredom. And even your abuse becomes
> tedious, repetitive, boring. And the second problem I have is with the
> strategy you describe and I read in the sub-texts of your posts and its
> consequences. For if you try to stop arguments and points of view  by force
> or falsehood, if you try and still voices you don¹t agree with, you run into
> two problems. First you end up giving a lot more credence to what you¹re
> trying to stop. Second, and this is probably far more dangerous, if you
> emerge victorious, i.e. if you are actually able to stop all voices you
> don¹t like one day the silence of silenced voices will silence even your
> litany of pain. 
> 
> Do you understand? Is that truly what you want?
>  
> Gargi Sen
> 
> 
> 
> On 9/1/07 11:19 AM, "MRSG" <mrsg at vsnl.com> wrote:
> 
> 
>>Dear
>>I have not entered in this Kashmir debate execpt that I informed that
>>Kashmir is only 20% of all J&K. (Generally I donot enter this e-debates,
>>only because of my fellowship here, I go through this list and sometimes
>>cannot resist to get involved)
>>HOWEVER MY SUGGESTION TO YOU THAT NEVER LISTEN TO A 'SECULAR BENGALI HINDU
>>REFUGEE'. They are the worst of backboneless people on the earth. Bengali
>>hindus are being raped, killed, looted everyday in Bangladesh (previous East
>>Pakistan) and they are coming in India everyday. But nearly all the refugees
>>are not only silent but also go anyway to stop talking about it. While in
>>las 50 years not a single muslim has migrated from West Bengal to
>>EPakistan/Bangladesh, millions of bengali hindus have come to West Bengal
>>and they are coming and coming. Bangladesh's hindu population has come down
>>from 30% in 1951 to 9% in 2001, worst ethnic cleansing in modern history.
>>Not only that. now Bangladeshi Muslims are coming in hordes. West Bengal's
>>demography has changed. Its just matter of time to turn West Bengal into
>>Bangladesh. SO PLEASE NEVER debate with them, its useless. Let them go on
>>with their intellectual acrobatics till some day their houses are looted,
>>their women are raped. If you can do anything yourself, do that only.
>>M. Ray
>>
> 
> 
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