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Since the Bharatiya Janata Party came to power on the basis of religious beliefs, there has been no point in the claim that a secular nation must avoid any undue emphasis on religion or, more specifically, on any single religion.
My first few days in the Rajya Sabha were tumultuous enough to realise that classics like Erskine May’s Parliamentary Practice, the bible of Westminster, would really have to be ‘tropicalised’ a lot to adjust to the gross realities of the world’s largest and beleaguered democracy. The small endoscopic view of parliament’s functioning also leads to the belief that it has more to fear from those who have utilised its electoral facilities to seize power than from external dangers that the regime periodically projects, to augment its hegemonic measures.
One feels immensely relieved that at no point in one’s four decades of government service was one ever important enough to work in any of the 25 critical organisations that deal with state security. This places one outside the scope of the central government order of May 31 that prohibits officers who retired from any of these listed organisations to publish without taking prior clearance from the government. It bans discussions on “the domain of the organisation”, a bureaucratic way of saying “don’t spill the beans”.
Dr B.C. Roy, who led West Bengal as chief minister between 1948 and 1962, died on this first day of July, 59 years ago. He was known for his exactitude and his scientific temper, but to take leave of the world on the same date on which he came into it and that too, as soon as he had reached a perfect 80, is more than just unusual.
In Writers Buildings, there was a sense of shock when word of Basanta Choudhury’s death spread through the centuries-old corridors of power. This was exactly 21 years ago and many of us moved on to the Nandan film complex, Basanta Choudhury’s workplace in some sense, to express a collective sense of grief. I had known him for over two decades and had become fairly close in the last few years, enough to take cheeky liberties. What all of us really regretted was that he had left us much too early.
Narendra Modi is surely passing through his worst patch ever as prime minister, but then, there is no reason to view this seven years’ ‘itch’ of the people as the beginning of his end. The sudden fury against his regime’s disastrous handling of COVID-19 was sparked off in the national capital and other urban pockets of power by shocking visuals of endless funeral pyres and by horror stories of ‘people we know’ gasping to death for want of oxygen.
Like all federalisms, India's too is like a marriage between equals, the Centre and the states, and both thrive and prosper as they emerge stronger after each crisis. Though the 299 members of the Constituent Assembly did a commendable job in three and a half years, they could not provide for every foreseeable contingency. The Constitution is gently tilted in favour of the Centre, but a greater maturity has now evolved in the handling of the Brahmastras like President's Rule in states under Article 356 or in demanding secession.
By making petulance part of state policy, Modi has opened a provocative chapter in federal conflicts
Narendra Modi has surely lost his cool after 48% of the voters of Bengal rejected him quite decisively in the recent state elections by sinking their fierce political differences. Then followed the first real thrashing from all sections that Modi received in his seven years as prime minister for his disastrous handling of the Covid-19 pandemic.
As one who has served the state government for half the 'senior, secretariat years' while the other half of this period was at the Centre, one could be a little distant from parochial quarrels. Incidentally, governments were almost always in confrontational mode and one is quite used to the issues and tensions involved.
Till a couple of decades ago, Westerners were surprised that Indians hardly understood their passion for their ‘Thank God it’s Friday’ syndrome and their trooping out of workplaces sharp at 5 pm for the weekend. Neither wild horses nor unfinished work could stop them. In the recent decades, however, Indians have also picked up this weekend craziness. But advanced countries continue to take a dim view of the liberties that Indians take with punctuality.
One is still not certain whether Covid-19 is largely airborne, but we are more than sure that it is and was airport-borne. It was definitely imported by aircraft passengers, usually better educated or economically advantaged, mainly from advanced Western countries. They went on generously transmitting it in all cities as most of our tracking systems are primitive.
One is taken aback by the ease with which the spectacular verdict delivered by voters in West Bengal has been superseded by headlines about the political violence that broke out thereafter. It is most unfortunate that clashes, injuries and deaths have taken place and one can only bemoan the fact that this tragic tradition has remained intertwined with elections in the state for half a century, if not more. No major party is free from blame and the newly-invigorated state BJP promises to be more than adept in this domain.
This left-liberal group decided to swing in Mamata Banerjee's favour this time and its numbers surely helped supersede the negative anti-incumbency votes.
It is quite uncanny that the birth centenary of Satyajit Ray, 2 May, 2021, also happens to be the very day on which the results of the bitterest and longest drawn elections in Bengal’s history are being revealed. When one comes to think of it, this coincidence is as poetic as the legendary filmmaker's cinema, because Bengal's politics has always been inextricably linked to its cinema.
One has never seen people in other states and cities of India so genuinely bothered about elections in Bengal. Many are actually petrified that nothing can hold back the BJP if the quintessentially secular bastion of Bengal capitulates.
I had the unique opportunity to observe from within the functioning of the Narendra Modi administration for over two years, as head of the national public broadcaster. I resigned before my term, when I could take it no more. I witnessed at close quarters the collapse of the apparatus of governance, which invariably invites catastrophes of the type we are suffering now.
In this highly politicised and polarised state, the Left front’s hegemony extended into its culture for 34 long years, and it was followed by a regime that also demanded absolute allegiance to its version of culture and politics for the next decade. Ghosh was among the remarkable few who defied both regimes and held his head high. His clear views were never accompanied by any overt display of belligerence, but appeared through his extremely popular writings and rare utterances. His pithy verses simplified complex issues of politics into eloquent but firm statements that ripped apart the hypocrisy of the ruling elites. The soft spoken poet and essayist had obviously more fire in him than most professional revolutionaries.
Few bureaucrats are endowed with a great sense of humour, or else they would not be bureaucrats in the first place. And, a profession that claims to be the world’s second oldest surely lacks the excitement of the first. There are, however, certain similarities and Avay Shukla’s PolyTicks, DeMockrazy & Mumbo Jumbo lifts the hemline to reveal saucy bits, but leaves it to the reader to fantasise. We benefit from his insider’s ring-side views about “babus, mantris and netas (un) making our nation”. His wit has surely not deserted him even after cohabiting for thirty five long years with dull, dusty and musty files. Behind his satire and flippant delivery, however, he displays his utter seriousness with facts and figures, as is expected from a senior administrator.
Some 46 years ago, I left a blue chip company to join the IAS and while many of my colleagues there retired with tens of crores of rupees, some in hundreds as well, my savings and investments at the end of almost 42 years are too embarrassingly small to mention. Be that as it may, the experience that I picked up is worth millions, as is the feeling, however misplaced, that one has served the nation — in spite of odds. The India of today is, however, dramatically different from what it was four decades ago and it feels good to think that we have contributed to many of the changes.
Sunil Arora retired on April 13 with the dubious distinction of being the most controversial Chief Election Commissioner in recent memory. His was a surprise selection for the post as his name had figured in the PR woman Nira Radia tapes. Accused of helping the BJP with several decisions, he led the Election Commission in key decisions in holding the elections to five Assemblies including West Bengal’s, the most crucial one.
Whenever someone is pulled up for jumping the queue at, say, passport counters in international airports, we are embarrassed—as it is almost always an Indian or an equally insensitive person from our immediate neighbours. As soon as a plane lands or a train stops, everyone jumps up and seems to be in a tearing hurry, jostling with co-passengers, to get out. It may sound too sweeping to brand an entire people as too restlessly self-centred, but we all know that it is quite true.