Anita Pratap, K. Annamalai, T.G. Mohandas, Abhijit Chavda, Shehzad Poonawala, Sreejith Panicker, Anand Ranganathan, Rajat Sharma… the list goes on. These are the people whose opinions, perspectives and thoughts I have been consuming for the last several weeks. In these voices, I see the emergence of a new India. In this era of content, these are the voices that define content for me.
Anita Pratap talks about her legendary past as a journalist. In her accounts of her meetings with the LTTE, her first-hand experience of the riots sparked by L.K. Advani’s rath yatra, her reminiscence of her last encounter with Rajiv Gandhi, ten days before he was assassinated, she brings to life people, places, and sentiments. She reveals the human side of terrorist leaders, the dark side of soft politicians, the polarity and duality of human nature, and the thin line that establishes the morality of our decisions and actions. Her stories also reveal her own personality traits- her hunger for adventure, her curiosity, presence of mind, courage, and her ability to see beyond what is obvious. She is truly an enigma. Beneath her extraordinary traits, is a child-like persona, mischievous and determined. I celebrate her.
Every individual in this list is unique. I celebrate them all. They are all different, and yet, they are all people whose human qualities shine through their impossible journeys. They are all authentic, inquisitive, genuinely concerned about the world, simple, humble, and driven by the need to grow. The questions that they raise, the passion they exude, the wealth of knowledge they instill, the native wisdom that sparks their thoughts, the inner spirituality that drives them- these have moved me. They remind me of the India that I grew up in- a competent and spiritually awakened India. An India that did not rely on the import of culture for its growth. An India that was secure in its native identity, while demonstrating openness to different cultures and ideas. This may only have been my perception, and not the objective truth. Also, because we grew up in a community dominated by Defence or Ex-defence personnel, our formative environment was perhaps different from that of civilians. Kendriya Vidyalaya in those years truly represented a model of education that facilitated our journey of self-discovery. School taught us how to think, and not what to think. Over the years, this India that I grew up with, vanished. The likes of my teachers, who were nothing short of an Anita Pratap, vanished from the face of this country. They would have put modern-day feminists to shame. But listening to all these voices in the last several weeks, I have rediscovered the sparkle that was lost to us as a nation. Finally, there is this feeling of change– a change in politics and leadership.
The politics of this country is changing in its very language. People have started talking about meaning and purpose; people are slowly resuming the quest for real education and enlightenment. Finally, people are looking beyond entertainment. Content that only entertains, is slowly losing its audience. Podcasts are replacing mainstream media. I think men are ahead of women in this quest for meaning and purpose because many women are still obsessed with fashion and false pride. There is gradually a shift to relying on one’s native wisdom and one’s natural cognitive ability. We are slowly beginning to realize that imitating what is fashionable- be it in appearance, in accent, or in lifestyle, is not going to get us anywhere. We are realizing that we do not have to abolish our cultural identity in order to connect with the world.
I have always loved being Indian. Simply because there was something so beautiful about our indigenous character and culture. We experienced life at a completely different level- our lives were so textured and wholesome. Religion was a cultural experience. Even as a child, I loved the experience of places of worship. It is only when something is abolished, that we begin to see it for what it really was. As the temple culture disintegrated, I started to miss old religious practices- practices as simple as lighting a lamp at dusk. Practices that were my private affair, and did not get in the way of others practising their religion. Why don’t we do that anymore? That is the extent to which our lives changed. Our lives changed not because of any Muslim or Christian infiltration; our lives changed because of our own cultural shift. We just chose to abandon and disregard all that was beautiful and valuable. We were consumed by entertainment and consumerism. We bought in to these ideas, and gave up on our own abundance. I do love many things about the West and individualistic societies- their intellectual climate that fosters curiosity and the inherent exploratory nature of a human being, for instance. However, do we really have to deny who we are, in order to travel and learn about the world?
An important purpose of life is to also preserve and transmit the elements of a culture that created meaning. When I was growing up, I was touched by much of what I saw around me. The way people talked, dressed, loved, cared- I was touched by the meaning ordinary people created in their daily lives. I was touched by their ideals and inner spirituality. Our teachers, bosses or leaders were parental figures who brought in an element of concern and affection in their interactions with us, unlike teachers, bosses or leaders of today. When we sought a doctor in those days, we put our confidence in him/her. While these elements have faded away, I preserve these elements within me because I once thrived on them. I never let the memory of these interactions fade away, because only then can I become what they were to me. This is the element that I bring into my interactions as a teacher or psychologist. I want young people to taste what they do not get to taste in the world today. It is my moral obligation to them.
To identify with a philosophy of life, or with the cultural elements that embody this philosophy, is a key ingredient in the development of a human being. What are the young people of India identifying with? What do young people really care about? What are young people devoting their life to? These are questions I explore when I meet young people. These are questions young people must explore. If they refrain from asking these questions, they will end up with an identity crisis.
Migration to a developed country, growing one’s means of wealth and popularity, pursuing prominence and recognition- these are not answers to one’s quest for identity. The processes or phenomena that fulfill one’s deepest motives– perhaps the hunger for truth, justice, adventure or whatever it is that one is driven by- that is what one must discover in order to find answers to one’s identity.
Kerala is perhaps an example of a state with the deepest identity crisis. People largely operate from a place of self-doubt or narcissism; they operate from a place of unfulfilled psychological needs, which plays out in different forms, sometimes toxic to the self, and sometimes toxic to both the self and to society. Kerala is desperately trying to identify with modernity, as they understand it. For most people, modernity is not to do with a philosophy of life; it is to do with a lifestyle. What we have ended up creating in Kerala, is a culture of fashionable identities, rather than authentic identities. Women, in particular, are ashamed of their past identity; they are ashamed of the simplicity, humility, vulnerability, innocence, tolerance, compassion and resilience that women demonstrated in the past. They are ashamed of women who identified with the family structures of the past, and derived motivation from the difficult roles that characterized their lives within the joint family system. They are unable to distinguish between abuse and the innate hardships of life. Women are haunted by a victim mindset. Women have made it the purpose of their life to identify with the image of a ‘modern woman’, and severe the connection with the roles of the past. Take Manju Warrier, for instance. Manju started out as a brilliant actress. Her characters breathed life into the roles, and we could not imagine a replacement for Manju. The native, indigenous cultural ingredients of her personality made her extraordinary as an artist. But the modern version of Manju is as good as a mannequin in a store. She looks years younger, and could easily pass for a college student; her make-up and costumes could find her a place among K-drama celebrities; she has also learnt to carry herself in a way that matches her current stature. When she smiles, it is a plastic smile. Manju had to give up everything that was vital about her personality in order to be relaunched as a contemporary brand. No matter how hard I try, I cannot find any vestige of the personality of the old Manju that we celebrated. I cringe when I see her emulate young celebrities of this generation. I understand that she may have gone down this path for survival, but there is a price an artist pays for ignoring a vital part of their personality that is meant to serve a purpose.
On the ground, the scenario is no different. I am tired of working with women who pin their identity to their degrees, job titles or lifestyles- women who hate feeling responsible for something or somebody. Kerala is a chaos of sorts. People are invested in other people’s perception of them; they spend a lifetime creating an image, rather than identifying with the real self. They are perpetually in competition with everybody else. Every parent’s dream is to see their children grow up to speak fluent English, and take up a profession that will guarantee migration to a developed nation. Those who are not financially well-to-do, will take up nursing. Some will marry nurses working abroad. Those who can afford to send their children abroad for higher education, will do so. The children are clueless about the meaning of the journeys they are taking.
Is this a good time for young people to participate in the affairs of our country? We already have many young people who are changing narratives through podcasts. K. Annamalai sets a brilliant example for an individual who refused to pursue engineering simply because he was an engineering graduate. Instead, he found his purpose in politics. If young people want to save themselves from depression, it is about time they stopped conforming to traditional paths, and evaluated their role in the current political and socioeconomic context. I think we are living in times where politics can no longer be a disconnected pursuit. The onus is on each one of us to build this country.
It's all in the Mind. 