The toxicity of our political discourse

Two incidents that happened in the last week clearly showed what is wrong with my country! One which happened in Tamil Nadu. One in the place I live now, in Brighton, UK.

Last week a group of civil service aspirants from the Central University of Tamil Nadu (CUTN), Thiruvarur had planned a discussion on the Kashmir issue, the abrogation of article 370 and 35A. The Vice-chancellor of the university sent out individual memoranda to the 30 odd students who allegedly participated in the discussion. Well, the memoranda said, 'anybody or group of persons who indulge in activities which is a threat to the security and integrity of India will not be tolerated' and such activity will lead to dismissal from the university followed by criminal action under IPC'.

Yesterday I got an email from a friend from university. She is organising a discussion on the Kashmir issue. The University has been kind enough in arranging two eminent speakers on this, one from India and one from Pakistan. Both social scientists, who have studied policy processes and political participation all their lives.

I'm sure the discussion will be thought-provoking. I'm sure it will be analysed from every angle possible. There will surely be questions and debates coming from both sides of the spectrum. Of course, there will be a historical narrative being presented. At the end of it all, we will come back as better people, with a better understanding of the situation, the processes and the politics of it all.

So, you may say, that this is being done since the country has no stake in it. But even Brexit was analysed threadbare in events like these.

Politics and policies should be discussed in academia. Well informed scholars who have the studied the subject should lead debates at the university campuses. If academia does not contribute, then WhatsApp universities, paid & biased journalists, riled-up politicians will fill-up the vacuum. That, unfortunately, is the tragedy of our times.

Toxic political discourse is the bane of this generation, and excluding academia from politics might well be the reason for it. 

Independence from hatred!

On the 14th of August 1947, Mahatma Gandhi was in Calcutta, where he and one of his bitterest critics, Muslim league leader Huseyn Suhrawardy, were together trying to ensure that the communal riots of 1946 would not be repeated again. 

"At the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and freedom. A moment comes, which comes but rarely in history, when we step out from the old to the new, when an age ends, and when the soul of a nation, long suppressed, finds utterance", as the first prime minister was uttering these immortal words, a journalist thrust his mike on Gandhi. 

Do you miss being in Delhi now? he asked the great man. The man had just won over the greatest power planet earth had seen till now, without taking a gun. 

"Others may sing of the wine and the wealth and the mirth,

The Portly presence and potentates goodly in girth;

Mine be the dirt and the dross, the dust and scum of the earth! 

Theirs be the music, the colour, the glory, the gold;

Mine be a handful of ashes, a mouthful of mould.

Of the maimed, of the halt and the blind in the rain and the cold - 

Of these shall my songs be fashioned, my tales be told.

Gandhi quoted John Masefield's 'Consecration'! 

When yet again India wakes up to another day to remember the day of independence, I remember the words of the great man again and fashion my song on his. 

My song will be on Kashmir and its people, for their true freedom; The innumerable Dalits and the tribals and the battle for their rights; the minorities and their peace; 

For my country is maimed and halt and blind, in the rain and the cold of hatred; 

The post truth era!

"I went to the tuition ma", I said. அங்க என்ன மா சொல்லி குடுத்தாங்க? (What did they teach you?). My mother asked nonchalantly. 'Chemistry' I replied, not suspecting that they have caught me playing the fool. The unflustered dad sat there quietly listening to our conversation. இங்க வா (Come here), he said. He made me sit on his lap. And in his own inimitable way said, "இனி விளையாட போனா சொல்லிட்டு போடா" (If you are going to play, inform us and go).

I clearly remember having tears flowing through! I had been caught red-handed. I had told them that I'm going to tuition and went to play. I had lied.

I was, and in many ways still am, an impulsive liar. I exaggerate ordinary things. I'm a writer after all. But that lesson which my dad taught me that night never really went away from me. He said, "it is important to stand by the truth, come what may"! Falsehood is for the fainthearted. You are brave, face up to the truth. They still ring loud and clear in my ears.

In the year 2016, the word 'Post-truth' was described by oxford dictionary as the word of the year. I started imagining how would my dad have lived in the era of 'post-truth'? Where objective facts are less influential in shaping public opinion than appeals to emotion and personal belief. I mean, a man won an entire election based on a Model of development which did not exist. But no, it does not matter! People believe it is true. It is okay if it is not true. People's beliefs matter more than objective reality.

Does truth matter to me as much as it mattered to my dad? I seriously doubt it! If so, then why do I even forward WhatsApp messages without verifying its veracity? Most of the WhatsApp message I forward might not be true. But I don't care. I like the story. Most of the NEWS I consume is not true. Yet I read them and believe it to be true. Do I like the story, then it must be true. I don't like it, it cannot be true, has always been my definition of truth in the post-truth era.

In a relative world, will absolute truth survive? When every Tom, Dick and Harry have their own version of the truth, will opinions and ideas become part of our living reality called truth?

What will I teach my children? that it is important to speak the truth or to speak what he wants to be true? 

Love shall overcome!

"Well, he is a 'Muslim' and I can't get my food delivered by him! Please change the delivery boy, else I will cancel the order"

This was the quote that rocked the ever boiling Indian twitter scene last week. Both sides of the spectrum, the religious right and the liberal left fought, abused, yelled and mocked each other. "Food does not have a religion, food is a religion", said the liberal left! The more vocal right-wing showed the various food rules religion has imposed on humanity. The stench of hatred was in fact nauseating.

When an old friend of mine pinged today reminding of the friendship day, It got me thinking. Nothing unusual I suppose. The older you get, faster the philosopher in you get going.

Day one in the United Kingdom! This great olympian and his wife, a world-leading researcher herself, drove a long distance just to pick me up. No, I have never known them before. She is a friend of a friend. Just a random act of kindness. Two days into this country, I was walking trepidatiously, looking lost, when a random stranger walked in and said, "Are you okay, do you need help?"! A swiss once walked an extra mile to help with an obscure presentation I had to make. A Colombian sat through an extra hour to explain a concept I did not understand. A man from Ghana helped me with my writing. Of course, the Pakistanis were the best. Two best buddies were Bangladeshis. And then the Indians. Indians from all over the place. Indians of different caste, creed, language and religion. Nothing deterred them from showing kindness and love. Nothing deterred them from being friends.

True, the bloody politicians, religious bigots, language and cultural terrorists may try and divide the world. But kindness and love will always prevail. For more the hatred being spewed, the tighter we will hold on to the precious friendships made over the years.

For friendships make the world. And friendships are made of love. And love shall overcome!