Capturing water through its flowing history

Without counting cultural values and notions of justice, any attempt at re-engineering water management is bound to escalate fears about nature and climate.  

Current clamor on water scarcity is pitched around what  nature supplies through rains and what gets delivered through pipes, backed by the assumption that effective demand-side management will help counter supply-side conundrum. Far from it, a water crisis has become severe even when large parts of the country have seemingly escaped what is traditionally termed as ‘monsoon economy’. Between the extremes of a dreary winter and a blistering summer, water crises manifests itself in dried and polluted rivers; as cumulative water shortage in major reservoirs; and in unending queues of desperate people awaiting erratic supplies. This all points out towards an emerging social disruption, if it isn’t there already!

For getting a better sense of the emerging water crises in an age of climate change, Sunil Amrith, Professor of South Asian Studies at the Harvard University, suggests a nuanced understanding on how history shaped water management and use; what compelled the society to respond to new economic opportunities; and how mastering the unevenness of water and its extreme seasonality by the British shaped an economy that improved revenue flow into the treasury?  With maximizing revenue being the be-all and end-all of the British rule, every investment in infrastructure had led to expanding trade for Indian products in the markets of London, Liverpool, Hamburg, and New York. Investment in irrigation works bolstered local resilience to drought, signaling benevolence of the rulers, while ensuring that the state’s coffers remained full. The political connotation of investment in irrigation projects has persisted since then.   

In his reading of the history, Amrith finds a serious lack of realization of nature’s water endowment in expanding irrigation – exploiting economic gains from water remained bereft of social and ecological concerns. And this had continued well into the twentieth century as quick economic turnaround had propelled a large swathe of large landowners to switch to water-guzzling cash crops like cotton and sugarcane. It has only eroded deep social and historical patterns that had treated ‘the monsoon as a way of life’ in promoting crop diversity, and a culture of resilience. With farm crises at its peak, the state is now trying to restore historical sanity by promoting diversified crops a’la more crops per drop.     

Amrith mines British and Indian archives to produce a lively history that unfolds the development of modern meteorology in erasing water inequalities. That water has been a source of both social and economic power was known to the powers-that-be, it was in the disguise of democratization of irrigation expansion that the state sought to usurp power. No wonder, control over water became an engine of inequality between people, between classes and castes, between city and regions. Regional disparities have become ever more pronounced. Little has been learnt that 4 per cent of the available world’s fresh water will always be in short supply to serve 14 per cent of world’s population with competing, and increasing demands. 

Unruly Waters provides in interesting peep into the history of water development that continues to shape and reshape politics in the countries of South Asia. It captures the fears and dreams of rulers and governments in the region in laying control over its shared natural endowment through dams and rivers diversions, which has led to unleashing political tensions between neighbors. It is bound to escalate, as both China and India race to construct hundreds of dams to secure both power and water in carving an elusive water future in the age of climate change. Amrith reminds the present-day governments of both countries about what its founders had painfully remarked: “Jawaharlal Nehru had lamented the ‘disease of gigantism’ in promoting large dams whereas his compatriot Zhou En-lai had acknowledged the mistake of accumulating water by cutting forests”. It is an irony that political expediency has allowed cumulative wisdom of the past to erode. 

As the risks of climate change become increasingly evident in the region, there are essential lessons to be learnt from the shared history of miscued water development in South Asia. That many measures to secure the region against monsoon vagaries have destabilized the monsoon itself through unintended consequences leave much to be desired for sane actions in securing a safe water future. Need it be said that the idea that modern technology will fix matters is passé.   

Unruly Waters is the most comprehensive historical treatise on rains, rivers, coasts and seas, as also on weathermen, engineers, and politicians who sought to tame nature. Amrith covers a vast historical landscape on water but leaves the reader to draw his/her own conclusions. It should be essential reading for researchers and planners as it has between-the-lines lessons and messages to be captured to getting a better sense of the unruly waters. In suggesting that the task to understand the monsoons and the rivers that shape the region is far from complete, the author is emphatic in his suggestion that water management can neither be purely technical nor can it be addressed on a purely national scale. Without counting cultural values and notions of justice, any attempt at re-engineering water management is bound to escalate fears about nature and climate.  

Amrith calls for a new political imagination to view water beyond local histories and national boundaries. ‘Water, which connects Asia, cannot be allowed to divide the region’. There cannot be more compelling reason for countries in the region to cooperate in managing and sharing water then the fact that the countries in South Asia are the world most vulnerable to climate change. Unruly Waters presents all the essential elements to get back on the drawing board to plan a secure water future for the entire region amidst the most challenging times. 

Unruly Waters
by Sunil Amrith
Allen Lane, UK
Extent: 397, Price: Rs 799.

First published in the Hindu BusinessLine, issue dated April 1, 2019.

The Right Words for the Right Tunes

Lyrics are to music what heart is to body, thereby creating a pulsating culture of distinct narrative that has survived since the advent of sound in cinema. 

Over decades, songs have acquired a musical grammar of its own in building an emotional chord with its listeners, both on and off the screen. From populist numbers to flashy entertainers, songs have outlived films in people’s memory. Each song holds a distinct complexion and aura in taking the cinematic narrative forward, which gave lyricists an opportunity to weave magic with words to articulate emotions in simple, accessible verses. Yet, their immense contribution to Hindi cinema has not got its due, lost to overt recognition of music composers and singers.  

Main Shayar Toh Nahin is a comprehensive attempt at restoring that disparity by revisiting the lives and works of those whose lyrics reigned supreme in conveying emotions of all hues, and thereby became part of the cultural fabric of the society. From the art and craft of song writing to structuring poetry into the film narrative, and from capturing depth and range of human emotions to pacing simple verses as musical interludes, the book delves into all that went into loading simple words on complex situations for creating a lasting impact. Such has been the contributions of leading lyricists, from Pradeep to Kaifi and from Majrooh to Gulzar, that film songs attained personal and social relevance beyond just pleasing the ear. 

Without Sahir’s heart-rending Babul ki duaen leti jaa marriage ceremonies are rarely considered complete; Anand Bakshi’s reflections in Kuch to log kahenge help listeners overcome life’s tribulations; and Shailendra’s classic Sajan re jhoot mat bolo holds moral lessons. By playing with power of words lyricists could evoke multiple emotions to suit myriad situations on screen, converting life’s experiences into simple but relatable verses. Words are intelligently packed to lend meanings through music to create uplifting, inspirational, and soothing effects.  

Filled with trivia and unheard anecdotes, Rajiv Vijayakar has pieced together a fascinating history of lyricists that reads like a who’s who of all those who have carried the rich tradition of weaving words into music to assert that ours is a land of lyrical expression of thoughts and emotions. Lyricists, unlike poets, face the challenge of reading the situation, the emotion, and the character on the screen in selecting verses that not only conform to the musical tune but appeal to the masses too. ‘The power play of words saw entire philosophies written using fluid, everyday language’, says the author. Indeevar’s Kasme vaade pyaar wafa and Gulzar’s Aane wala pal jaane wala hai continue to resonate till this day. What must not be lost to oversight is that while creating a rich and variegated collection of happy, sad, and romantic songs these lyricists had to strike a perfect balance between their creative instincts and the demanding ecosystem?  

As the book traverses the musical journey of lyricists, it also seeks to explore why words and melody have a fleeting presence today. With commerce taking precedence over creativity, grammar, aesthetics, and the finesse of language has taken a beating. How else would any lyricist use the word haalaatein when haalat (circumstances) itself is a plural term! Curiously, the consequent sense of loss that music lovers feel is falling on deaf ears. Known for his impeccable reputation as a lyricist, late Raja Mehdi Ali Khan had long opined that lack of language proficiency and reading habit had brought the inevitable decline in the quality of lyrics. Rightly so, as a majority of today’s lyrics are mere assemblages of words, bereft of thoughts.

Far from being judgmental, entertainment journalist Rajiv Vijayakar draws the contours of change sweeping the world of film music, and the challenges that lie ahead. It is evident that in the predominant market culture, songs have become products with a short shelf life. ‘Songs are dying faster today because the importance of words has decreased’. Much of the onus rests on how the music industry recognizes and responds to the importance of words, and gives lyricists their due in reviving the culture of songs. For the music loving populace, however, songs promise more than mere entertainment as these push thoughts, impart lessons, discuss morality, and provide a psycho-therapeutic balm.  

Main Shayar Toh Nahin is all that an avid music lover ever wanted to know about what went into creating a memorable song. It is a tribute to the genius of past lyricists, who made the audiences connect and identify with the words at the personal level. Such has been the impact and power of lyrics that a vast majority can effortlessly recall several such songs. Will the present-day lyricists uphold that rich tradition! 

Main Shayar Toh Nahin
by Rajiv Vijayakar
HarperCollins, New Delhi
Extent: 347, Price: Rs 499.

First published in the Hindustan Times, issue dated March 30, 2019.

To sin is human, afterall!

To sin is essentially a mind game, and only mindful action can dissuade humans from committing a sin.

The quest for grabbing anything forbidden has been a crucial aspect of human existence; else the apple in the Garden of Eden would have left hanging. The act to sin has stayed on with us ever since. Be it the Christianity’s seven sins or the Hinduism’s five, all efforts to stay away from sins have only brought us closer to committing a sin. Despite a consistent religious and moral battle to stay away from them, there are some unseen forces that tempt us to take a call on them. In a closed society where everybody is guilty of some sin, the only crime seems to be getting caught. Come to think of it, in a world of thieves ‘stupidity’ of getting caught may indeed be on top of all sins! 

It goes to the credit of Saint Gregory who, in the 6th century, enlisted seven deadly sins as pride, gluttony, lust, sloth, greed, envy and wrath, which seem an expanded version of the five Vedic sins – Kama (desire) , Krodh (anger), Moh (lust) , Lobh (greed) and Anhkaar (pride). Irrespective of its religious connotations, these traits have been acknowledged detriments to mental peace, individual prestige and social reputation. Yet, as experience shows, the impulse to indulge in sinful behaviour is so strong that people easily succumb to the forbidden temptations - the mythical apple continues to hang low.    

For aeon ‘why we do the things we know we shouldn’t’ has been a subject of intense religious and philosophical inquiry, however, without any end to the battle between temptation and restraint. Labeling certain human traits as bad behaviour has hardly been a deterrent. Is it because people do not ascribe the same negative value that has been historically assigned to the sin under reference? If that be so, is it the reason for sinful traits to persist or is there more to understanding nature and proliferation of sins than what has been understood till now? 

Jack Lewis, a neuroscientist and a television presenter, gets deeper into examining the origin and societal relevance of sins as viewed through different religious lenses. In last 10 years since attaining a doctorate in neuroscience from University College London, Lewis has focused his attention on making the latest neuroscience research the widest possible audience through print, radio and television. His radio show Secrets of the Brain is currently being aired in 20 countries, and his co-authored book Sort Your Brain Out has gained popularity. In all of his works, Lewis comes out clear that in varying degrees sins are considered major obstacles to peace and enlightenment. Curiously, however, the world has done pretty little to limit the temptations that surround us. Instead, social media, live streaming, and online shopping has spurred greed, gluttony, lust and envy, while reinventing narcissism as the leading new normal behaviour. 

When the term narcissism was coined by Sigmund Freud some 100 years ago, it was with reference to loving or caressing one’s own body to appease one’s romantic partner. Today, it means an obsession with the self that is as much a cause for social pain of rejection as a physical pain of isolation, resulting from an over-inflated sense of self-importance. 

The Science of Sins peeps into the world of seven deadly sins in their many dimensions, both historical and contemporary; to understand the neural battles between temptation and restraint that takes place within our brains. Using the enormous amount of scientific data on the human brain that has accumulated over the years, the book explains how the neural circuitry of the brain is involved not only in tempting us to be sinful, but also how tweaking parts of our brain could help dissuade us from committing a sin. Although medical terminology thrown across makes it a heavy reading narrative, anecdotal reference to real-life stories sustain readers’ interest.

While Lewis uses intriguing scientific facts to explain why committing sin is impulsive, he leaves the reader in the lurch when it comes to getting over it. Acknowledging that there are no magical cures, he nonetheless advocates ways to train brain to resist temptations. Magnetic stimulation and medical interventions can curb pathological behaviour in extreme cases, mindfulness meditation has been found to be an effective way of remodeling various parts of the brain as a steady process. In the world where each of the seven deadly sins has been systematically taken advantage of by the nefarious forces of global commerce, the quest for remaining healthy, happy and productive warrants a serious application of mind.

The essential take away from this well-researched book is that sin is a mind game, and only mindful action can dissuade humans from committing a sin. Assessing each of the seven sins - pride, gluttony, lust, sloth, greed, envy, and wrath - from philosophical and neuroscience perspectives, Lewis lets the reader get a clear sense that only by eliminating inner turmoil and personal suffering can an external sinful stimulus be checked. The Science of Sin falls short of a self-help book as it leaves much for the reader to decide upon. It is nonetheless a book that offers deeper insights on various shades of sins, and how people grapple to reduce their individual vulnerabilities to cope with it. The book concludes that it is not hard to do things we know we shouldn’t, provided we remind ourselves on it frequently.  

The Science of Sin 
by Jack Lewis
Bloomsbury, New Delhi
Extent: 304, Price: Rs 499.

This review was commissioned by the Hindu BusinessLine.

The rise and fall of a hero

....who crushed the skulls of all who opposed him in a bloodsplosion of gruesome vengeance!

In her authoritative study of selected monuments in Modern Delhi (Building Histories, University of Chicago Press, 2016) historian Mrinalini Rajgopalan drew a special reference to the statue of Brigadier General John Nicholson– the British officer who had turned the tide of the Rebellion of 1857 in favour of British troops – which was sought to be removed as early as in 1949. Although the statue of Nicholson wielding a sword was eventually relocated to his Irish hometown of Ulster in 1957, the Ministry of Home Affairs had turned down the earlier plea on the grounds that there wasn’t any noticeable public concern about the monument, and that it only acted as a reminder of our weakness as a historical lesson. 

Post-independent India did show remarkable restraint in its attitude to the British era but by the time the tenth anniversary of Independence approached – 1957 was also the centenary of the Indian Uprising – the mood had changed, and a statue of a British soldier with unsheathed sword seemed highly vulnerable to nationalistic fervour. The three-and-a-half tonne statue was finally removed and ferried to Belfast before the anniversary, and with it went that part of history which had compared a young army officer to the likes of Napoleon by his contemporaries. Called ‘The Lion of the Punjab’, Nicholson continued to remain popular in Britain through much of the 1950s and 1960s for his decisive role in breaching the mutineers’ defence of the walled city of Delhi, but has lost much of it in recent times with modern British historians dubbing him as “an imperial psychopath” and “a homosexual bully”. By late 1960s his name had become a byword for brutality and racism, and his portrait, once proudly displayed in the exhibition of Great Irish Men and Women at the Ulster Museum in Belfast was removed. One website badassoftheweek.com describes him as “one who crushed the skulls of all who opposed him in a bloodsplosion of gruesome vengeance”, and that he is “in equal parts respected and despised by roughly everyone on the Indian subcontinent”. What made an erstwhile hero, considered ‘The Hero of Delhi’ by BBC Radio in 1950 lose his credibility in his home country? Is it because British peoples’ attitudes to race and Empire have changed in the years since his death? Or, is there more to this complex character that has yet not been fully unearthed in earlier accounts of his life?  

Journalist and radio broadcaster Stuart Flinders has pieced together a new perspective on Nicholson’s personality in his biography Cult of a Dark Hero based on previously unpublished material, letters and diaries. India was an appealing career move for a majority of youth in Ireland that made Nicholson, one of the seven siblings, use his uncle’s influence to join 37,000 European soldiers at that time in British India. After completing his basic training upon arrival in Calcutta in 1839, Nicholson was given permanent position with the 27th Native Infantry (NI) at Ferozpore. From there on Nicholson was quick to adapt to local conditions, and proved his mettle in first fighting the Afghans, and then the Sikhs.

Fighting the Ghilzais (tribe) in Ghazni was both torturous and tumultuous. His mother’s parting words ‘never forget to read your Bible’ were of little solace as blood thirsty tribesmen lurked around. In one of his diary entries, Nicholson had noted his anguish: “I return home to breakfast disgusted with myself, the world, and above all, with my cruel profession. In fact we are nothing but licensed assassins”. Nicholson may have sounded apologetic in his note but his hatred for the natives was only to be cemented upon discovering his brother Alexander’s mutilated body as he was passing through the Khyber Pass. Alexander had also come to India as a cadet. 

Cult of a Dark Hero provides a detailed account of the life of a controversial soldier whose extraordinary efforts on inventing the Movable Column of troops helped to nip revolt in the bud, and ensured that Punjab remained under British control. The more power he gained, the more control he exercised in dispensing justice. Flinders provides evidences of Nicholson’s method of asserting the rule of law, which not only won him local support but anointed him as a cult figure, somewhat of a deity. Stories of him bringing peace, justice and, where necessary, retribution merged with ancient tales from Islam, and he became a mystical figure, part folk hero, part Muslim legend. The cult of Nikal Seyn had a dedicated following spread across religious beliefs but the cult was finally taken up by Shia Muslims in remote parts of Punjab. The cult survived on stories that valorised him as a super hero. One story had Nikal Seyn cutting off a man’s head, realising his mistake and putting it back again, following which “the man made a bow and walked home highly satisfied and honoured”. However, such stories were not to last long with the change of times and traditional practices. 

Nicholson career of less than two-decades culminated with his last military encounter in securing walled city of Delhi that not only made him one of the great heroes of Victorian Britain but cost him his life too. Cult of a Dark Hero provides graphic details of the assault on Delhi, which proved beyond doubt that Nicholson knew no fear, and preferred to act rather than to take advice or seek permission. After the guns had blasted holes in the city wall, Nicholson commanded his troops to enter the city amidst terrible shower of fire at Kabul Gate of the city, and with rebels occupying the adjoining houses. Nicholson received a bullet under the right arm on September 16, 1857, and succumbed to it six days later on September 23. “His was a life of adventure lived on the very edge of the British Empire, as courageous as he was ruthless, as loyal to his friends as he was merciless to those who crossed him”.

In his foreword to the book, Sir Mark Tully wonders if much of the opprobrium heaped on Nicholson takes full account of the times in which he lived. That he was brutal there is no doubt, but he was a dedicated soldier with a clear sense of duty. 

Tully was taught by his mother to hold Nicholson in high esteem, as his great-great-grandfather Richard Nicholson was John Nicholson’s uncle. He finds that Stuart Flinders’ research on the controversial life of an archetypal imperial hero has pursued a balanced middle course. Flinders does not paint John Nicholson either black or white, but leaves the verdict open. Not as a justification but as an explanation to how Nicholson got dubbed for his outrageous attitude, historian William Dalrymple has written that “the atrocities committed by the native sepoys against the British women and children had absolved the British of any need to treat the rebels as human beings”. Early in his career Nicholson had admitted that “he disliked India and its inhabitants”, which perhaps led to his ultimate branding as an imperial psychopath, but by no means was he the only British officer to have been engaged in wanton cruelty.      

Cult of a Dark Hero is as much an engaging account of the British exploits in laying control over vast expanses of undivided India as about the man who seemed undeterred by fear of any kind. Flinders stays objective in his readings of personal letters and diary entries in assessing the conditions that made a young man go beyond his sense of duty in making a living. His uncanny power of penetrating the disguise, helped by his habit of maintaining an extensive intelligence network, made him a military strategist of unmatched qualities. That he stayed ahead in taking decisions at the time of crises made many of his seniors uncomfortable. However, his temperament was ideally suited to the times in which he lived.

In his perceptive assessment, Flinders argues that there was a deep sense of racial supremacy exhibited by Nicholson in his actions, which is rightfully abhorred in recent times. The reputation of Gordon of Khartoum, the British officer who suppressed the Muslim revolt in Sudan in 1880, followed a similar trajectory for the same reason. Although it may remain difficult to justify his brutality in the service of the Empire, it is equally hard to draw conclusions on why he lost out on his cult status in recent times. Nonetheless, Flinders concludes that Nicholson was driven by personal ambition and a sense of duty to his country rather than by any notions of improving the lives of those amongst whom he worked. His presence during the Uprising was reassuring to Europeans, but it did alter the course of history for those who were subjugated by the imperial forces. For those interested in the history of freedom movement, Cult of a Dark Hero provides insights on how the Indian Uprising of 1857, often referred to as the First War of Independence, was eventually lost, but which had sown the seeds of a long-drawn battle to win freedom 90 years later.      

Cult of a Dark Hero: Nicholson of Delhi

by Stuart Flinders

I B Tauris, London, 

Expanse: 231 pp, Price: £ 25 

First published in Biblio, issue dated Jan-March 2019.

The enigmatic cultural icon

Can a river which has watered and nurtured an entire civilization from time immemorial be left contaminated, carrying an unbearable burden of silt and detritus?

Ganga strangely represents the physical manifestation of an accepted mythological duality – to be divine and vulnerable at any given time. Revered as a goddess, the river is endowed with two contrasting characters: one as an eternal deity of the flowing waters, the other as a carrier of the accumulated human misdeeds. This beguiling duality has allowed the river to be worshiped and neglected at the same time, regardless of its worth as a finite and tangible resource. Flowing through the heart of an ancient civilization, the unholy alliance between purity and pollution has kept this enigmatic cultural icon on the very edge of survival. It continues to survive nonetheless!  

In an insightful account of the myth, religion, history and development of the sacred river, the University of California historian Sudipta Sen delves into the duality manifest in the approaches adopted to ease the Ganga of the vexing problems afflicting its purity and flow. While attempts to clean the river of its pollution load have been victims of their own top-down ambitious scope, the mythological history of the river makes it difficult for multitudes of Indians to accept that the river may be in imminent danger. Despite the evidence of an unprecedented ecological decline, the unstinted faith in the divine powers of the river makes it easy for a vast majority to espouse confidence that the Ganga will never go dry like the great Yellow river of China. 

But can the river’s miraculous powers heal its own scars? Sen let’s mythology speak for itself to serve a possible clue. During her descent to the world, an anxious Ganga had asked King Bhagiratha: where shall she cleanse herself after people wash off all their sins in her waters? In his unexpected reply, the King had expressed confidence in the moral obligation of all upright mortals to carry out the unenviable task of expiating the sins of the world. Such is the power of mythology that it continues to inspire faith that the collective power of the sinners will rise one day to restore the river into its pristine state. Will it?

Within the study of the significant historical moments that shaped the river, the book offers two parallel but inter-related threads that connect the mythical and historic with the climate and ecology in getting a sense of the cumulative consequences of human activity from the past to the present. Far from learning any lessons from its rich history, argues the author, the uneven contours of the past are very much at work today. The purest of all rivers continues to remain the most polluted. And, there is no getting away from the fact that the great cultural icon is in trouble, suffocated by dams, encroached by overcrowding, and desecrated by discharge.  

Ganga is for anyone interested in how a river shapes human culture and its history, stimulating multilayered interpretations on its metaphysical threshold. It is an ambitious undertaking that blends geography, ecology, mythology and religion in presenting an intimate biography of the most sacred and beloved river. It is as much a celebration of its glorious past as a mourning of its pathetic present. It is scholarly treatise which, by author’s own admission, took twelve years in the making, and is an essential reading for those interested in understanding a river from its diverse social, cultural and spiritual perspectives.  

The book offers no quick fixes on redeeming the river from the civilizational onslaught. It instead asks why the Ganga, held in such reverence across a multitude of religious traditions, remains hostage to the promise of development and risks of degradation? It provokes the discerning reader to grapple with the river’s rich past and its most uncertain future. At this time when the cleansing and the purification of the Ganga has been an urgent and much-vaunted national priority, the book offers a nuanced understanding on the river from a cultural and civilizational perspective. 

A river which has watered and nurtured an entire civilization from time immemorial cannot be left contaminated, carrying an unbearable burden of silt and detritus. Sen argues that it is time we identify what stands in the way of tangible progress toward a cleaner and healthier river. The time to act has never been as urgent!      

Ganga: The Many Pasts of A River
by Sudipta Sen
Penguin, New Delhi
Extent: 445, Price: Rs 799.

First published in Civil Society magazine, issue dated March 2019.