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Enough said

The pain of Gaza

Humra Quraishi writes on how our collective detachment to the Gaza crisis and our pro-Israel stand has affected Arab-Indo relations.

I’ve been watching scenes of complete disaster in the Gaza belt unfold on my TV screen, and I am left wondering: where are the so-called world leaders who talk of peace? Where is the US President, Barack Obama, who ought to start his second term in power by trying to save the lives of hapless Palestinians; if nothing else, then at least to win a few brownie points! Where is the United Nations at the moment? And more to the point, where is our own government?

I confess I am shamed and shocked at the muted response to the barbaric killings of Palestinians. We sit detached as scores of Palestinians are being killed and pushed to the  edge in their own homeland. Is this happening because of our pro-America, pro-Israel tilt? If it is, then our current politics is a far cry from the time when Jawaharlal Nehru and Indira  Gandhi had close personal ties with the Arab nations, and with Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat.

I’d attended a few receptions in New Delhi, where Indira Gandhi had honoured Yasser Arafat, and he, in turn, had showered praises on his ‘sister’ Indira. And it’s a well-known fact that in the 1950s, Nehru had gifted a sprawling bungalow on New Delhi’s Prithvi Raj Road to the first Iraqi envoy to India. The bungalow still stands, tall and elegant, but it is just about vacant. After Iraq was pounded by the American forces, the Iraqi embassy here shrank rapidly, gradually reduced to nothingness.

While covering the social scene of the capital city for almost three decades, I have witnessed the years when traditional Arab hospitality and warmth held sway here. The frequent parties and luncheons at the homes of envoys of Lebanon, Iraq, Palestine, Libya, Kuwait and Qatar were not just vibrant, they relayed warmth. And the Arab-India bonding lasted till about the time America and the allied forces invaded Iraq.

Even today, the plight of the Palestinians gets buried in the back pages of our newspapers, accompanied by occasional pictures of hundreds dying. We tend to overlook the complete picture, the historical context, and the very basics of the problem. In this context, I quote Palestinian envoy to India, Osama Musa, who had once said to me, “We have been under occupation all these years, over several decades. Can’t America see the killings that take place on a daily basis? I tell you, without America’s support, Israel is zero. Israelcannot survive a single day if America doesn’t support it. Israel is equipped by tanks and war planes, whereas we Palestinians only have a police force armed by mere pistols.”

He added, “You ask how peace will come about? It will happen the day Israel ends its occupation. We have been telling the Israelis to leave us alone. We are restricted to only 23  per cent of the total land that originally belonged to us. The rest is with Israel. Their policies have affected over six million Palestinians – of which three million are displaced, and the other three million live in their own land as slaves, not as free citizens.”

Humra Quraishi is a senior political journalist. She has authored Kashmir: The Untold Story, and is co-author of Simply Khushwant.

(Featured image courtesy www.csmonitor.com) 

 

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Did Modi really develop Gujarat?

Humra Quraishi writes on a few startling findings that point to mishandling of funds and incompetence from the Modi government.

Correct me if I am wrong, but even the angrez didn’t indulge in the multiple divide and rule  strategies that are being used in our country today, by those in positions of governance. No  rebellion, big or small, is being allowed to take place, as counter-punches are rapidly thrown in as hurdles. No heated discussions are taking off as the Rakhi Sawants of the world are dragged  in as distractions in all forms and sizes. Naturally, no headways are made in important cases as other skeletons tumble out…

I’m not sure who is supporting whom and why, and why not. But one thing is becoming clearer as each day passes – there seems to be a rather systematic build up to get Narendra Modi to the    centre stage, right here at the Centre. May be even a foreign hand is lending hidden support to these efforts, considering that Modi has begun to get welcoming nods from several foreign  quarters to come and visit. Obviously, no quarter, foreign or otherwise, functions without bigger vested interests in the background.

Apart from wondering what will happen to the country if Modi is brought at the Centre, I am also wondering what will happen to those who are still labouring under illusions of development that are now synonymous with Modi. As the electioneering mood picks up in Gujarat, some  hard facts are spilling out in earnest.

To quote Ahmedabad-based Jesuit, Father Cedric Prakash,  who has worked hard to unearth facts and figures related to Modi’s purported development works, “Modi’s talks on ‘cost  of  development’ deserves scrutiny. The ruling party is burdening the State Exchequer with liability of crores of rupees every day. Even through the RTI route, it is difficult to arrive at the total of wasteful expenditure. The State’s debt as on 31st August 2011 was Rs 1,13,939 crore.

“As per the Report of the Directorate of Economics and Statistics for the 2011, per capita income of Gujarat is Rs 63,961, the average poverty alleviation rate for the country as a whole is 1.5 per cent per year whereas it is 1.7 per cent in case of Gujarat. The percentage of poor people in the State is 23 which, speaks volumes about the state’s development model.

“Again, only 43 per cent of households get water at their doorstep in rural areas, only 16.7 per cent villagers get clean water, 67 per cent of village families do not have toilet facilities, 30 per cent villagers are faced with malarial fever in epidemic proportion, and Gujarat ranks No 14 as regards infant mortality rate. In short, after all its talks on development, Gujarat has been able to achieve a 48 per cent target as far as Human Development Indices are concerned.”

Father Cedric also quotes the CAG Report on Gujarat for 2011. “In this report, there are many startling details about corruption, mal-administration, clumsy and faulty administration, improper and imprudent misuse of Government funds etc. This report was tabled in the Assembly only at the last moment and that too after intervention of the Governor. No scope was left at all for debating the report in the State assembly,” he alleges. He offers these facts from the CAG report as well: funds earmarked for education of dalits were not fully spent for over three years, the Government purchased gas at higher prices and then sold it to Adani and Essar at cheaper prices, irregularities of Rs 1,100 crore are believed to have taken place in Sujalam Sufalam schemes, State’s revenue deficit in the year 2008-09 was Rs 10,438 crore and Rs 15,074 crore in the year 2010-11.

Father Cedric also addresses this major finding: the Gujarat State Petroleum Company Ltd. (GSPCL) in collaboration with Canada’s Global Resources Company ventured into business of drilling petroleum from the Krishna – Godavari basin. In this partnership, the Canadian Company had no share in the losses of GSPCL. Drilling in K-G Basin was a failure. Yet, the CM created a media hype by riding a helicopter to the drilling rig. Though the entire effort incurred huge loss, the Canadian company was given a ‘share in profit’, which never existed. “Thus, poor taxpayer of the State was looted and a foreign company was handed over a huge bounty. It is believed that in this entire process, scam of over Rs 5,000 crore had taken place. The Government, which boasts of being No. 1, has shown total lack of finance management.”

By the end of the year 2000, he says, “There were 3,000 large scale industrial units. At the end of 2010, the number has increased to 9,000. Substantial amounts of government money is spent for setting up the CETP and in spite of not getting desired outcome, no care or caution is exercised in adding new and more industries. This type of industrialisation will cause huge damage to the environment to which the Government turns a Nelson’s eye.”

Humra Quraishi is a veteran journalist and author of Kashmir: The Untold Story and co-author of Absolute Khushwant. 

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Naipaul and the overbearing wife

Humra Quraishi writes about her feelings about Girish Karnad’s recent tirade against VS Naipaul, and of the overprotective Mrs Naipaul.

When I heard about playwright and actor Girish Karnad’s tirade against writer VS Naipaul, I was a little amused, and I must admit, a little happy that somebody had finally spoken out so vehemently against him. But more on that later.

I first met Naipaul and his wife Nadira at Khushwant Singh’s home a few years ago. What had immediately struck me within minutes of the meeting, was the lady at the writer’s side. Nadira seemed to exercise total control over her husband, as though some severe insecurity was sapping her, making her hover over him constantly. She seemed overpowering, almost posing a  hurdle to any conversation between her famous husband and me.

And this pattern was repeated every time we met in subsequent years. When I next met them in around 2004, Naipaul had recently done the unthinkable – at least, unthinkable to the sane and  sound of mind in this country. From some semi-political platform, he had given a clean chit of  sorts to the destruction of the Babri Masjid. A Lord giving his approval to destruction! I was astounded.

And so I was dying to throw some unsettling questions at him when we met right after his famous pronouncement, but once again, Nadira swooped in and started hovering around. No sooner had I sat on the chair placed next to him, than she took hold of another chair and sat down on his other side. Though the host for the meeting tried to seat her elsewhere, she shook her head stubbornly and immediately put on a mothering act; serving daal and fried bhindi into a bowl together with salad and curd on his plate, she repeatedly kept asking him whether he wanted this or that.

As she got up to fetch a drink, I’d started the conversation with him, commenting on how little he was eating. “After a certain age, one shouldn’t eat much. I have begun to eat little,” he  said, sounding a little depressed.

“And what are you writing these days?” I asked.

“Nothing, really…after a certain age it gets difficult to write.”

“But isn’t writing an ongoing exercise?”

“No, it gets difficult to write after a certain age. I suppose if I was doing business, I would have carried on, but with writing it isn’t easy.”

“Are you planning to switch over to politics? I ask because you aired, rather too blatantly, some Right wing views recently?”

“No, no politics.”

“But didn’t you travel to Nashik?” I went on. “And it is said that your longish stay at the Maurya Sheraton’s luxury suite was sponsored by a certain political party?”

“Yes, I did travel to Nashik…and here in New Delhi, I did go to the  BJP office headquarters. What’s wrong if a writer goes to a political party’s office and interacts with their workers and leaders?” he spluttered.

I asked my next question. “Shouldn’t a writer not support blatant destruction? Of structures, human or otherwise?”

He’d looked rattled, cornered. And as if out of force of habit, he started looking around for an escape route, somebody to pamper and protect him from fresh onslaughts. And the escape route appeared just then – Nadira was back and seated in the chair she had briefly vacated. Any further queries directed at Naipaul were then answered by the ‘Back off’ look on her face.

He couldn’t answer any more questions, giving in completely to her ministrations with a lopsided smile. I stared with amazement as she overstretched herself, putting up a big show of protecting her husband in a laughably pretentious way.

But where was Nadira last week? It seems she couldn’t protect her husband from Girish  Karnad’s speech, that was aimed at exposing that jaundiced-against-certain-communities streak in most of Naipaul’s works. I confess that I was quietly elated with the incident – it was about time that someone ripped off the hypocrisy hovering around Naipaul and the heavily-biased views that he craftily weaves into his writings.

Humra Quraishi is a veteran journalist and author of Kashmir: The Untold Story and co-author of Absolute Khushwant. 

(Picture courtesy www.outlook.com)

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A tryst with Gulzar

Gulzarsaab talks to Humra Quraishi about writing in Urdu, ageing and what gave him a complex when he was young.

I always bond with the emotional. Probably that explains why every time I have interviewed Gulzarsaab,  it’s the emotional poet in him that has left an impact on me.

Once, during the course of an interview, I asked him about the Kashmir valley. I was taken aback to see tears roll down his cheeks, and he took some time to answer. Overcome by his emotion, he said  that  the Kashmir valley fascinated him and Raakhee (film actor, who he was married to for a while) so much that they’d chosen it  for their honeymoon. He’d said, “Kashmir is an integral  part of my emotions, it’s a region  that is close to my heart. I was planning to make a film on Kashmir earlier. I’d  even named the film, it was to be titled Is Vaadi Mein and it was based on Krishna Chander’s short story collection Kitaab Ka Kafan, but then the Kargil War broke out.” He said that for now, he was only focussing on his writing.

“In fact, my colleague Salim Arif is keen to make a film on the Kashmir valley. If he decides to go ahead with it, I could do the script and story for that film,” he told me then.

True to his word, Gulzarsaab is focusing only on writing these days. But ask him if he would be penning  his autobiography, and he says, “Kahaan gunjaish hai! You journalists have already written  every single detail of my  life. Nothing’s hidden. Also, a few years ago, my daughter Bosky has written a book on me,” he smiled.

And he is one of those rare Bollywood personalities who still concentrates only on Urdu, reading, writing, and conversing in Urdu. I asked him, “In the times we are living  in, is it tough to speak in Urdu? Did you ever suffer a complex on account of this?”

“No, never. I have always been very comfortable with Urdu,” he replied. “In fact, the only thing I’ve suffered from a complex from was the fact that I couldn’t complete my graduation. This bothered me for a long time, as in those days, a degree meant a lot. But I couldn’t complete my graduation because of financial constraints. And perhaps to make up on that front, I took to reading and  writing.” He added, “Writing has the capacity to absorb all upheavals, shocks, pains, and the  conditions you’re going through. It is like driving along a road which could be rough or uneven or bumpy, yet you somehow manage to go along.”

And I simply had to ask him this: “Gulzarsaab, you haven’t aged in all these years. How is that?”

He simply smiled. “Of course I have…the hair is thinning. But if you insist on knowing the reason, then it is the joy brought into my life by my grandson, Samay. Every evening, I play with him, take  him to the park. Being with him is so rejuvenating, so very joyful…”

Humra Quraishi is a veteran journalist and author of Kashmir: The Untold Story and co-author of Absolute Khushwant. 

 (Picture courtesy Amit Kanwar, www.hillpost.in)

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Long live the King

Humra Quraishi is heartbroken over Yash Chopra’s death, and has given up looking for a man with Guru Dutt’s eyes.

Ever since I heard the news of director Yash Chopra’s death due to dengue, all I kept muttering to myself was, “Yash Chopra’s dead…He’s dead…the king of romance is gone…”

I didn’t know Yash Chopra personally. But sometimes, you don’t need to know somebody on a personal level to feel the loss when they’re gone. Most of those who are mourning for him didn’t know him either, but we’re all shaken by his death. I think what bound me to Yash Chopra was that he personified all that was romantic in film, and I am a diehard romantic in real life. But I count myself lucky, because unlike the scores of people who could idolise him only through his films, I actually had the opportunity to see him up close.

I saw him in person just once, at the New Delhi airport. He was with his wife, and though they were together, his eyes darted about restlessly, like he was mentally somewhere else, looking for someone. Even at a distance, his personality did leave an impact…he wasn’t good-looking in the conventional sense of the word, but he had a definite personality. I thought he was tall and dark, but not really handsome, but there was something about him that would make you notice him in the crowd, turn around for a second look, even on a crowded airport.

The restlessness in his eyes probably stopped me, or rather, the journalist in me, to go right up to him and talk to him. I still could have spoken with him, and I’m sure he would have been cordial enough to answer my pleasantries and my questions, but I thought  it  would  be  wrong of  me  to  intrude on his thoughts and bother him.

And   as  I  saw  him  boarding  the  same flight  to  Srinagar as I was on, I  was  more  confident  of  going   up to  him, if nothing else, then for  one of those unplanned  interviews that journalists are sometimes lucky enough to get. But  by the  time  I  could  muster enough  confidence to approach him, he was almost  mobbed  by  his  co-passengers. After that, I settled back in my seat and resigned myself to glancing at him at regular intervals, and I could clearly see his smile and his set of fine, good teeth. And I could also hear his distinct voice, and snatches of the sentences he spoke rather quickly.

On the evening of his death, as I mused over losing Yash Chopra, I was actually surprised that I still remembered all these details of so long ago, after so many long years. The only explanation I  can  offer for my fond memories of Yash Chopra, are that the romantic streak in him and me brought about a strange connection of sorts. Yes, romantics  do connect in these rather bizarre ways.

And when I ponder on romance, I remember Guru Dutt and his lovely eyes. After him, no other man conveyed the kind of want, the yearning and a subdued passion of love. Guru Dutt was probably the only man in cinema whose eyes touched a chord with you across a cinema screen, that made love to you with a single glance. I am still looking for eyes like his, but I have almost given up hope. Where am I going to find such a pair of eyes, in these fast times and in an age where pelvic thrusts denote love in cinema, that will be emotional, in love and full of yearning?

Today’s filmmakers would do well to understand why Yash Chopra and Guru Dutt made romance so special. They understood that romance was about an abundance of emotions, exploding in a dazzling display of colours and tears and heartbreak and ecstasy. They understood the difference between love, romance and sex, and also that romance remained with the viewer long after the sex was done with. Their films underlined this wonderful line from Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s Memories of  My  Melancholy  Whores: ‘Sex is the consolation one has for not finding enough love.’

Humra Quraishi is a veteran journalist and author of Kashmir: The Untold Story and co-author of Absolute Khushwant. 

(Picture courtesy www.deccanchronicle.com)

 

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