Generational break

Brexit has sent shockwaves around the world! In this vote to embrace change, the outpouring of angst is from the young people. After four decades of same old, same old, one might have expected them to welcome change. But no, the older age groups dream of new reality outside of the EU!

Millennials have taken to the streets in protest. Bucketfuls of ketchup underscore the verdict as a "bloody joke"! This generation thrives in Diversity, and on foreign soil. Now they face uncertainties. They perceive the country turning inwards culturally. The outrage is at its becoming isolationist. They fear their world shrinking down to one small island. 

Baby Boomers spearheaded the concept of globalization some decades ago. Then they advocated open borders - but for business purposes. The migration of other nationalities into their world was perhaps never considered. Now they fear cultural invasions, and Brexit presents opportunity to reclaim their distinct national identity.

The two generations, once close because of globalization, now plant in opposing camps. The bonhomie is lost. Bitter political rhetoric stokes differing views of the concept to ignite the fears for the future.

In a tv discussion after the referendum, the hostility was apparent. While a young millennial guest spoke her piece, an older fellow guest repeatedly interrupted her flow to question her stand. Clearly incensed, she vented that, as the privileged white male whose generation had already taken away their future, he now wanted to also take away her airtime! 

From across the world, it appears as if the advocates of the change did not themselves believe in Brexit actually coming to pass. Now that they have it, there is backpedaling on claims. Most importantly, they seem at a loss for plans to consolidate and take forward the change.

Consequences to the verdict, however, were immediate. Many that had voted swayed by emotions, regret the outcome.The markets fell. The currency value reached its lowest in three decades. Investors grew jittery. Some trading had to be suspended. Scotland wants independence. EU leaders adopt a hard line. And then at Euro 2016, England falls to shock defeat against tiny Iceland...

Blurred lines

History has always been the bulwark of our culture. Through the ages, we reference a then-and-there we never really experienced to explain actions or rationalize happenings.

That we descend from the gods… that our civilization is the oldest… that in ancient times democracy existed … that over centuries, we withstood the onslaught of other cultures… that monarchies, colonies, and dictatorships passed on… that on the strength of our traditions, we faced diversity but never lost nationhood.

From it we draw meaning for our existence. We do our best to live up to the grandeur and the superhuman heroics. The lines blur between real and fantasy in the stuff of legends we know as traditional heritage.

Then virtual reality happened. Generation Next took to the change like duck to water. History creates at the fingertips as the online transcends all else.

Descend from the gods… assume civilizations of any age… withstand the onslaught of other cultures… raise and demolish democracies, monarchies, colonies, dictatorships instantly in the here-and-now experience. 

The Internet fulfills networking needs and gives meaning to existence. They live through it the images of grandeur, of superhuman heroics, the stuff of legends. 

The interface enables 3d worlds so more real than reality that the lines between blur. In the virtual world of continually streaming information, diversity flows into the living room. It is the new culture the generation connects to, to explain actions or rationalize happenings. The old moulds are broken...Is this evolution?

Wedge of Western media

The Russian expat bristles with righteous indignation. He is all fired up in defence of his country over the Ukraine conflict. Vilifying Russia is the campaign of Western media, he reiterates to his fully Indian audience. Now, I don’t know the person or the facts of the case well enough to counter, but what immediately pops into mind is: What about Crimea?   

We look on in fascination as he expounds on his conspiracy theory. It takes courage, as the outsider in a group, to stand up for one’s convictions. I wonder how many Indians abroad would be as vehement regarding India’s reported actions. I suspect, intimidated by the environment, most would much rather focus on their jobs there, than make waves. Not that any of us here had questioned Russia’s role. He brought it up himself, and approached the topic head on – the very image of a young, impassioned Putin! (Well, he does mention his father’s name is Vladimir; but perhaps I read too much into obvious ethnic characters!) 

On this day, we hear that it is an internal matter of Ukraine, that three Russian-speaking - not pro-Russian – districts express disgruntlement over certain issues. The unrest is not of Russia’s doing. Its projection as the evil force, however, is political motivation for vested interests. It is like the situation in the subcontinent, we are told. The India-Pakistan conflict is never allowed to be resolved. India is blamed for whatever adverse happens in the other country. And ultimately, through the media hype, Western powers retain control.

Frankly, we know little in India about the crime or the antecedents of the conflict, other than what the news channels report, and the various speculations on the 'Net. It is true, though, that “proof” is pretty thin - not conclusive, it merely suggests. The world has been treated to an isolated picture of an antiaircraft gun on the back of a truck with Russian markings. We are informed that this is the culprit, the one that rolled into Ukrainian soil, shot down commercial airliner MH 17 and its passenger load of civilian men, women and children, and then slunk back across the border. That it was suddenly photographed in the process appears suspicious.

Besides, would the Russians, if they were indeed behind the attack, be so stupid as to allow any implicative evidence to exist? The KGB of yore may not remain, but surely its operative methods of ruthless efficiency live on. The Western media also presented phone transcripts that purportedly caught the perpetrators acknowledging the ‘mistake’. Now, if there are recordings of conversation after the fact, something must exist from before, from the planning to its execution stages. It seems quite improbable that only these transcripts were detected, and that too randomly. Somebody must have been monitoring that particular frequency over time. A news leak might have stopped the tragedy from happening, unless, horror of horrors, it was allowed to happen to protect snooping sources.  

They are afraid of Russia’s influence, the expat declares in full spate. He relates to us an aspect of the World Wars little known to us: the contributions of Russia. The media spotlight is on glorious exploits of Britain or America only, as if they did it all. There is never any mention of Russia, which fought a lone hand for three years before these others came into the picture. The cold war is being revived, he says. The Western media is calculative. Its intent is to drive a wedge between friendly countries, or those not at war with each other, and destabilize regions. We do not want their democracy, either, he says. The Western misadventure in Iraq and its aftermath of present crises, is his case in point.

India and Russia are natural friends, connected by culture, he emphasizes. Those people don’t want them to get close. The claim of a "cultural connection" is a stretch to far for me. How is that even possible? I ask. Russia is a European nation, and India is in Asia. They follow the Russian Orthodox Church, while the majority religion here is Hinduism.

It seems Christianity - the Greek Orthodox Church - is a Western imposition on Russia. Before that, there was an indigenous culture that went underground. That ancient culture, is similar in philosophy to Hinduism, and believes as they do, in the swastika as a sacred religious symbol. He shows a tattoo to prove his beliefs. (I recall that many groups, including the White Supremacists also utilize swastik symbolism. Who knows, he just could be one of them!) Logically, however, if India and Germany can claim Aryan origins from around the Caspian Sea, surely Russia can too? This Indo-Ruski cultural commonality is news to me, but maybe we do share roots from ‘way back in time.

The Russian explains that the Church demands a slavish mentality, and there are many like him that believes differently. We do not need their religion, when we have our own. We are not slaves of a cruel God. We are descended from the gods. We have the gods within us. Indeed, it does sound a lot like Hindu philosophy! This face of young Russia seems quite different from the supercilious, goose-stepping regimental prototype we have so far carried in mind!

But I must own that in India, we are biased towards UK and USA, accustomed as we are to thinking by their rules. This probably follows from centuries of colonization by the British Empire. We would easily visualize ‘Michael’ or ‘Alexander’ as conditioned to. We clean forget or are unaware that ‘Mikhael’ and ‘Aleksandr’ may also exist!

Earlier, the migratory pathway of the skilled Indian workforce pointed in one direction only, towards the West. Because an adequate inflow was missing, we called it the brain drain. But in more recent times, other nationalities are winging their way into the country, bringing in with them their own unique heritage. Diversity, hopefully, gains as a result. With open interactions nurtured by India’s customary collectivistic hospitality, it may become easier for people of different cultures to get to know and understand one another’s perspective.

Values in work culture

As a counselor, I envy Kasuo Ishiguro. I mean we struggle professionally to establish empathy and rapport with individuals and groups. Walk in their shoes, as it were, to understand their issues. But for Ishiguro, to weave plausibility across country and culture seems to come naturally. He has the amazing ability to imagine people and situations, and write fiction into reality. 

He says in The Remains of the Day:

Now, naturally, like many of us, I have a reluctance to change too much of the old ways. But there is no virtue at all in clinging as some do to tradition merely for its own sake.

I would imagine that he refers to the orthodox traditions of Japan that he was born into, and spent early childhood in. With his experience of then and now, he perhaps perceives his origins as entrenched in the past when compared to the liberal West. But no, he puts the words in the mouth of Stevens the butler, English in every inch. This character, the protagonist of the book, is in charge of staff at an English manor in England around the time of World War II, a setting perhaps previous by a couple of decades to the birth of the book’s author.

It is true that Ishiguro has been immersed in Western culture from the age of five, but as an immigrant. Hence, to not only visualize a cultural context different from roots, but also to fit it into a bygone era has to be a feat. The author says he gleans much knowledge about the cultural distinctiveness from books. He probably also has a prodigious memory for detail to be able to capture their characteristic quirks – and for this book, the Booker prize.

 

Despite the enlightenment he projects against clinging to traditions, Englishman Stevens himself appears to find it difficult to break out of the standard received mould of a manservant in the England of the ‘forties. A story he mentions, and one that his father would frequently recount admiringly, is of the exploits of a British butler overseas. At the employer’s residence in colonial India, this man had suddenly discovered a tiger hiding under the dining table: 

The butler had left the dining room quietly, taking care to close the doors behind him, and proceeded calmly to the drawing room where his employer was taking tea with a number of visitors. There he attracted his employer’s attention with a polite cough, then whispered in the latter’s year: ‘I’m very sorry, sir, but there appears to be a tiger in the dining room. Perhaps you will permit the twelve-bores to be used?’ And according to legend, a few minutes later, the employer and his guests heard three gun shots. When the butler reappeared in the drawing room some time afterwards to refresh the teapots, the employer had enquired if all was well. ‘Perfectly fine, thank you, sir’, had come the reply. ‘Dinner will be served at the usual time and I am pleased to say there will be no discernible traces left of the recent occurrence by that time.’

In the Stevens perspective, the onus is on the butler worth his salt to choose his employer intelligently. First, he must make a careful study of the employer and the work conditions. He must then make an informed choice for the best fit of employer-employee relations. Thereafter, the choice is binding. The highest work aspiration is to provide unquestioning service in all circumstances throughout employment. Stevens strongly disapproves of critical servants; they neither commit to tasks or stick with the job.

He muses:

For it is, in practice, simply not possible to adopt such a critical attitude towards an employer and at the same time provide good service. It is not simply that one is unlikely to be able to meet the many demands of service at the higher levels while one’s attention is being diverted by such matters; more fundamentally, a butler who is forever attempting to formulate his own ‘strong opinions’ on his employer’s affairs is bound to lack one quality essential in all good professionals: namely, loyalty.

The pronouncement probably resonates with Japanese traditions. But there is a distinct cultural difference. Honour and obedience to elders, especially family members, is paramount in the Asian cultures. In the England of the time, thoughts about the wellbeing the employer appears to trump familial bonds, as happens with Stevens.

The values of service mentioned in the book are hardly in evidence any more in the different regions of the globe. Is globalization to blame for this? Seems to me that we might point to the rise of professional management in organizations. As a result, the operational control of the concern has generally been separated from its ownership.

In the multinational corporation, for instance, commercial holdings of the company in various countries ensure that business transcends borders. Their management style and culture, knowledge and skill-based, is the same across continents. It drives the migration of the global workforce to different parts of the world, irrespective of individual nationality and culture. Their emergence has been welcomed as the process of unifying the world into one global village.  The exploitation of employees, a legacy of the industrial age where owners looked for ‘hands’ not ‘brains’, has thus been curtailed. 

Normally, the fear in the immigrant community would be of losing their cultural identity on foreign soil. Minor issues of discomfort in the new country may then appear magnified – the unfamiliar religious affiliations, food habits, currency calculations, traffic rules and even the inability to vent in the vernacular! These become emotional stressors. To keep from being assimilated, the people would find safety in like numbers, building around them an ethnic shield. A Chandni Chowk, a China Town, a Latin Quarter, and so on, develop in pockets to preserve continuity with ethnic origins.

The trouble is, the immigrant community very often clings to the past they have carried with them overseas. Unbeknownst to them, the social order may itself have evolved beyond back home. The traditions they swear by may in fact, be on the way to extinction in the parent nation, and they thus find themselves caught between cultures, with their adaptability in any case, suspect. 

The workplace, on the other hand, builds a structure and culture unlike society. They base almost solely on the rational numbers of business. This organizational sameness, whether in Asia or America, may appear familiar, reassuring to the individual immigrant.They immerse in work to stave off their angst. They tend to work harder than others to blend into the work culture, which serves the needs of the organization best. Should the culture call for an unwavering focus on the bottom-line, so be it, they live to serve its needs. 

However, there is a downside. The change of process causes the traditional attitudes to service to also change. Money has, instead, become the strongest motivator in the workplace.  In more recent times the pendulum seems to swing in the opposite direction.  Top management in many professionally managed companies resort to paying themselves obscene bonuses at the expense of the system and thousands of laid-off workers. The traditional values of service – commitment, honour, loyalty, and sacrifice, are casualty with the advancement of greed. We might shrug and call it collateral damage.  

Reference: 

Ishiguro Kazuo, “The Remains of the Day”. ISBN 978-0-571-25824-6. Faber and Faber Limited. Great Britain. 1989.

Preservation of culture?

In categorizing people into ‘us’ and ‘them’ groups, we refer to culture a lot.  According to our standards of judgement, these others belong to cultures that may be somewhat like us, or more usually, backward to us. Individual behaviours that may differ from our own, we tend to attribute to their cultural origins, their social DNA. Obviously, the term is of great importance to determine status in the civilized world.  

Culture means different things to different people. The spectrum of definitions the ‘Net throws up is wide, including: 

• Human intellectual achievement
•  Language, religion, cuisine, social habits, music and arts
•  Quality of excellence in person or society in manners and scholarly pursuits
•  A form or stage of civilization
•  Development or improvement of the mind by education or training
•  Shared beliefs and behaviours of particular ethnic, social or age group.

However, in India, and elsewhere in the world, the administrative view of culture focuses on one aspect only – a form or stage of civilization. Accordingly, the preservation of culture is a practice. This does not apply to the mainstream, which may socialize in the global community. It is meant instead to protect uncontacted tribes located in the remotest parts of India’s vast diversity. But, does the process work?

 

No doubt the bureaucracy started out with sound rationales behind the practice.  Because they have lived so long in their own microcosms, these tribes have become endangered species. The rest of the world is toxic for them; hence the intention to save their numbers makes sense. Their physical survival is important against germs of modernity becoming life-threatening diseases.  

They are kept away on reservations of land tract, forest or islands. Their way of life of centuries continues, and that, on face value, seems logical. The social organization, their family structure, relationships and laws are to remain the same, same and same, as they ever were in the bygone days. Taxpayer monies are pumped in to maintain the appropriate ambience, and very heavy restrictions imposed on the surrounding environment. The laws strictly prohibit any interactions between mainstream society these isolated threads of humanity. Mainstream society is warned against entering their preserves, meeting the inhabitants or photographing them up close.  

I, however, find the present process discomforting. Fact is process implementation is faulty with inadequate safeguards and lax supervision. Its very purpose defeats with asphalt roads constructed around the reservations for the flow of convoys of tourist vehicles. When modernity invades their backyard, the tribes are hardly uncontacted anymore. The alien presence they are supposedly protected from is emphatically brought home to the people of the land. 

It seems to have become discriminatory, to keep the uncontacted backward, and make them anthropological attractions. Their ‘form or stage of civilization’ feeds the majority self-esteem. Tour operators rely on the greed of lower level administrative personnel to sell their tours. Their tourist convoys are little different from any jungle safari in search of exotic animals. There is folklore of their wild nature, their mistrust of outsiders, and their attacks with bows and poison-tipped arrows. They are taken as creatures of the wild and their habitats human zoos that excited tourists want to visit.  

The natural curiosity of a people is played upon. Inquisitive customers on tour crane their necks in eagerness for glimpses of their appearance with little or no clothing.  Convoy drivers are bribed to stop, and the tribals – especially women and children – to approach, enticed with food and other objects. They must then perform for the entertainments of a voyeuristic ‘superior’ civilization. The fact that they are living, breathing human beings worthy of dignity and respect, escapes attention. 

It carries the flavour of exploitation of groups unused to the culture of deception and guile. Unscrupulous middlemen take advantage of the gray areas. They grab every opportunity presented by loopholes in the system to further vested interests. Wherever there is an obstacle, bribes or favours are freely exchanged. What then is the point of laws when the measures to enforce them are weak or nonexistent?

 

In South America, watchdog organizations are able to expose the racketeering of corporate bodies that flout laws with impunity for their profits – owning land without title, deforesting without environmental licences. Because the people are isolated from modernity, and have neither the knowledge of laws, nor vigilant administrative support, they are easy prey for predatory groups unconcerned by their extinction. The spokespersons for some ancient tribes in Brazil and Peru have even claimed genocide of tribal population. 

One report from Paraguay last year says:

The secret agenda of a huge ranching firm in Paraguay has been exposed by satellite photos showing a newly-constructed reservoir. The reservoir reveals the firm’s intention to clear nearby forest belonging to an uncontacted tribe. In a pattern characteristic of the Chaco region, landowners first build large water containers before clearing tracts of forest for livestock. Carlos Casado SA’s construction of the reservoir puts neighboring Indians, especially uncontacted Ayoreo, in immediate danger.

Another report in March this year points out the growing dangers posed by unbridled industry:

Many Ayoreo have already been contacted and have been claiming title to the land owned by Carlos Casado S.A. for more than twenty years. Their uncontacted relatives who remain in the forest are extremely vulnerable to diseases brought in by outsiders, and unwanted contact could be deadly. The uncontacted Ayoreo are being forced to flee as their forest is being rapidly bulldozed to make way for cattle. … In 2009, Survival International successfully lobbied shareholders such as the Church of England and the Rowntree Trust to disinvest from mining giant Vedanta Resources, because of the company’s intention to mine the sacred mountain of the Dongria Kondh tribe.

 

It may be argued that in the Indian context, the situation is not so dire. I would add ‘yet’ since it is only a matter to time before it might be. The environment and fragile ecosystems are already endangered, as changing weather patterns testify. The lack of ethics in modern society makes illegal mining, deforestation, poaching, and industrial pollutions almost the rule. Corporate bottomlines drive the agenda, backed by powerful resources. Faced with the politico-corporate nexus, the bureaucracy falls silent, while India’s non-governmental social organizations lack bite. 

Superiority in this new age is certainly in terms of corruption. It threatens not only people groups, but also planet survival. The majority should forget their preoccupation with empty status and relearn from people backward to us a bit of forgotten ancient traditions. The uncontacted tribes have preserved a culture for centuries, that the mainstream has lost sight of – adaptability to Nature, and harmonious existence with its creations. They could ensure longevity of the planet, and yes, of our modernity.

Need to know temple culture

The sight of naked figures on temple architecture is disconcerting for a foreign traveler to India. She asks, in her blog, why these compromising positions should display at a temple. Obviously, at Western places of worship, nothing unprepossessing like them exists. The apparent social indiscipline upsets her organized mind, and the expectation of what should be. Clearly, there is a clash of cultures.

Organization gives meaning to everyday life in the West, a social control apparently missing in more organic cultures on the other side of the world. In the temple arts of India, erotic compositions in full view are usual. Male and female figures may be bejeweled, bedecked with flowers, but otherwise naked. 

Why? One thing for sure, the social context differs – certain artworks are dated around 6-2 millennium BCE. However, since paper trails documenting this remote past are inadequate, the conceptual reasons for the artworks must be left to conjecture. Numerous include have arisen in attempts to explain the practice. 

These include: 

• Sign of happiness, auspiciousness and prosperity: that the figures are motifs to bring good fortune.
• Mock the ascetics: that the intent is to ridicule the esoteric practices of the extreme sects. 
• Code language: that the compositions carry a deeper spiritual meaning. The figures are not about the humans but symbolic representations of attributes of Nature. 
• Conceal the magico-propitiory yantra: that the figures are a distraction, used to conceal the important points of specific ritualistic designs. 
• Non-duality: that the male and female elements are opposing forces that complement each other, and ultimately become One. 

It is known, however, that there were restrictions on the dissemination of knowledge. It was strictly on need to know basis, in the sense that only worthy receptacles could receive knowledge. Not segregation by birth, but by ability. Truth to be revealed to a person depended upon their level of spiritual preparedness for it. Seats of education were the gurukul, the ashram or temple home of the teachers, who were priests and also householders. Knowledge was not open to the uninitiated, neither was entry to the temples. 

For instance, the Rig Veda, the oldest of the written scriptures, which dates around six millennia BCE, is an epic poem with over ten thousand verses. The verses can be chanted in three different meters that change their interpretation of divine truths.  Students would be allowed a particular meter only after they were deemed fit and ready for it. Else, the hidden meanings would be kept secret. 

The Hindu temple arts of India were created over several millennia, from ancient to medieval times. They are often carved or painted in intricate designs on solid rock. In some places, they are within caves in the mountainside. Unknown artists laboured over them, with rudimentary chisels and hammers, and organic colours of the time, to create sculptures and murals that have survived the ages. Their models were not live humans, but products of their imagination.

Objectification of gender is not the purpose in temple art. The lack of clothing on the figures signifies divinity, when the light of complete self-awareness renders external coverings redundant. The gods and goddesses depicted are meant to be numerous forms of One Supreme Being - the one that becomes many. The figures and their relationships are heavy with symbolism; male and female elements complement each other in their representative powers.
 
Stephen Knapp writes:

In the Vedic tradition it is common to see the pairing of the Vedic male Gods with a female counterpart, thus combining both sets of powers and qualities that each would have. We can easily see this in Radha-Krishna, Sita-Rama, Lakshmi-Vishnu, Durga-Shiva, Sarasvati-Brahma, Indrani-Indra, etc. Thus, we have the combination of male and female Divinities that make the complete balance in the divine spiritual powers.

Fact is Hinduism started out as a philosophy, not as a religion. Neither in ancient society was a woman barred from intellectual pursuits. Women as a group held high positions in society. The verses of the Rig Veda (the oldest of the scriptures written down about six millennia BCE, but likely composed far earlier) extol the prowess of over thirty women sages that were held in the highest esteem. 

The temple compositions retell stories from the mythology, the scriptures and other ancient texts. The multiply arms, heads, or animal parts in the portrayals also have symbolic meaning. The female elements in the compositions are not subordinate to the gods. The goddesses ache instead for victory in battles against male elements! In their pose, prototype and expression, they exude power. 

For instance, the image of Durga, the warrior goddess is shown to have eight arms. This means that she is able to combat in eight directions simultaneously that the male gods cannot! The ‘battle’ signifies the conflict of good and evil. Actually, ‘gods’ and ‘demons’ represent the strengths and weaknesses of a person, and the conflicts between them, rife moral dilemmas. 

In subsequent ages, Hinduism transformed to an orthodox religion with deity worship and ritualistic practices. Changes wrought by invasions, conquests, annexations and colonization of the country buried the gender equality of ancient India deep into the sands of time. The roles of sages, apostles, prophets and avatars became the prerogative of men in subsequent ages of patriarchy. The feminine gender was made to believe that they are the secondary sex, and thus their objectification justified. 

The point is the ancient temple arts communicate imagery of a bygone social context different from that today. Artefacts still standing, are possible testimony to the different reality. There and then, the female was at least equal to the male. Walls and architecture bear proof of the pride and power of female sexuality. Over time thereafter, women's groups appear to have lost sight of their identity, their social power, and, in the words of present day thinkers, their erotic territory. The pilgrimage for the modern woman should be to rediscover their social worth and value through relevant lessons from the past. They need to find power within their self, to chart for the future, the culture of enlightened gender roles. 

Blessed to be born female?

Georgia O’Keefe’s early twentieth century paintings of the Black Iris flower are more readily perceived as her metaphoric preoccupation with female genitalia. It seems to me that the Nature worshipping era of the remote past would have instead perceived spirituality in her artworks. They would have definitely been taken to denote the awesome fertility powers of the Mother Goddess. However, since Freudian interpretations of sexuality impacted social knowledge, connotative associations appear to be grasped first in the global forum.   

Remnant artifacts of Nature worship have been found from the Indus Valley civilization of ancient India dated thousands of years before Christ. Several nations of the Asian sub-continent, independent in present day, share this common heritage. Excavations ongoing mainly in two countries, India and Pakistan, at Mohenjodaro, Harappa and other places, have so far uncovered only a small percentage of the buried cultural wealth. But, although the hieroglyphics of the time have not yet been deciphered, surely the art forms discovered there can tell a story of the time! They could give us an inkling of the stark social differences of mindset and value regarding gender, past to present.  

Various objects made and used by the people have been discovered. Many figurines of the artwork found have accentuated breasts and pelvis. Does this mean women were objectified then as now? No, say the fact-finders, the exaggerations are symbolic. They represent divinity, not humans - the cult of the Mother Goddess, the Earth Mother or Nature – and invoke attributes of bounty of the deity. Made of clay or terracotta, they show kinship with Earth. 

A website collecting historical information about deities explains the point:

As significant and suggestive is her iconography - the large breasts filled with milk, uncovered genital organs, beautifully dressed hair and a good number of bangles on her wrists. This is the iconic perception of the Being who bears, feeds, takes all calamities on her head and covers the born one under her protective umbrella and, at the same time, defines in the modeling of her form an absolute aesthetic beauty. As suggest her bangles, the traditional emblem of marital state, besides a mother she is also a consort. Thus, in her material manifestation, She represents, with absolute motherhood, also the absolute womanhood. She causes life and sustains it, and is also the cause of life, its inspiration and aspiration, and the reason to live.

Social demarcations would thus have dual levels to span the universe – the gods that live in the heavens, and humans on earth, descendent from them or fallen, stripped of powers. A saying in India, that what is fine for the gods is not fine for mortals, reminds the humans of their ultimate fallibility. And that the all-powerful divine beings need to be worshipped for appeasement and blessings, because the humans are too puny to manage on their own against harsh reality.

In this ancient Indian context, the female form has spiritual and religious significance. Because of the association with divine functions, women most likely enjoyed a high position in society. Perhaps to be born female was to be blessed! It is a distinct possibility that matriarchy, which now exists in pockets around the country, was far more pervasive. A ritual originating in fertility rites that to this day  initiates Hindu image worship, is the ghot puja. It is an earthenware pot filled with water and inscribed with a figure in vermilion, which symbolizes the pregnant womb. It invokes the Mother Goddess. The traditional Indian reverence for the mother figure may have its roots therein as well. 

By the third millennium BCE, the people of Indus Valley had learned to cast in metal. The bronze Dancing Girl is the most famous amongst the human and animal artifacts found. The difference from the Mother Goddess is immediately apparent - she lacks the physical exaggerations. Perhaps a little crude in face and limb technically, the statuette nevertheless indicates the status of women of the time. A quote from British archaeologist, Mortimer Wheeler, describes its form and feature:

There is her little Baluchi-style face with pouting lips and insolent look in the eye. She's about fifteen years old I should think, not more, but she stands there with bangles all the way up her arm and nothing else on. A girl perfectly, for the moment, perfectly confident of herself and the world. There's nothing like her, I think, in the world.  

Indeed, attitude is immediately apparent in the body language. The pose – the hand on hip, the cocked stance, the lifted chin, the half-closed eyes, and the slanted look exude the impudence and comfort in skin hard to find amongst women today. Some writers suggest that the figurine is transgender. It is interesting to think, in extension, that gender may not have always been the divisive social issue it is at present. Identifying as female, in the image of the divine, may well have been totally acceptable in society.

Her nudity makes no difference to our appreciation of the artwork. Perhaps we notice it only because we belong to a different era, socialized into a different value system. Maybe in the early times, women were unused to suffering body issues! In remote regions of India, in tribes isolated from the mainstream to preserve their ancient culture, nakedness is their way of life. Jarawa women, for instance, may be more comfortable in the natural than many more civilized others might be fully clothed!

During the age of Nature worship, the people lived in awe of the environment. The power of the Goddess was perceived in every creation in the environment, and they bowed in reverence. Their imagery has been in celebration of the Divine. Against the spiritual backdrop, it is no surprise that temple art - rock carvings and cave paintings - are pretty explicit on the bountiful attributes of Nature.  

From there and then to here and now, how the perspective has changed! We expect that we control the environment today; hence we patronize the past. In the process, we tend to lose awareness of the sociocultural context of the age - and the artistic intent. Women, as a group, are habitually objectified. I remember overhearing some tourists a while ago. Eyes gleaming, the young men conversed raucously about the full figure displays of chicks in the temple artworks. It is not the fault of the artists but of particular sociocultural learning that perceptions of gender channel as they do. 

Flower in the muck

The boy on the bus sat hunched in his seat. He was about ten years of age, but the posture, hiding his face behind the bag of books on his lap, made him appear small and lost. He seemed shy and withdrawn, squashed between buxom passengers on seats reserved for ladies. His uniform, faded from many washes, had an indeterminable emblem embroidered on the breast of the shirt. It may have been a lotus - the flower that blooms alone in muck, its innate splendour unsullied by its environment.

It was clear he travelled unattended. The dusty socks and shoes on his feet testified to rundown conditions. I imagined the family was hard pressed to make ends meet. His father was probably the only earning member, burdened by the costs of supporting an extended family, his mother young and harried. Household chores would take up all her time – cooking, cleaning, washing, hauling water and tending to the elderly in the family as well as the children. In sending to school, the child’s parents must visualize a brighter future for their generation next, as well they should. If the free mid-day meal at school was attraction, so be it. But definitely, escorting them to and from school was out of the question; neither would they have the wherewithal to hire school-bus services for their safety.

The ordinary buses here, both public and private, carry far more passengers than they should. At peak time overcrowding, there is hardly any personal space, as people pack in like sardines. These buses, my sister living in America believes, are a hotbed of deviant behaviour, a living hell for children. She shudders at the mere thought of one. Convinced that predators abound, she has banned her offspring from boarding them. Apparently this thought never occurred to her in our younger proletariat days when she herded us onto them!

It is true that back in the day, far fewer women were out and about pursuing education or employment. Most mothers were too shy to speak about sex, and children, especially girls, were left their clueless about this reality. Public awareness was poor as well, and the young victims either too uncomprehending to protest, or too ashamed to draw attention to themselves. But much has changed since then, mainly in the passenger numbers. With greater social awareness, the bus interiors have clear gender demarcations – women and children on one side, men on the other. Over the intervening years, girls learned to confront, to even hit back at attempts to take undue advantage. As mothers themselves thereafter, many have taught daughters to be assertive. Often other passengers join in to deter unsavory behaviours.

In a country as large as India, with at least a quarter of the billion plus population located below the economic cut-off line, poverty is the affliction. Exposed as they are to the environment with nobody to shield them from harm, children born into this disadvantage have to learn early to fend for themselves. Harsh circumstances force their growing up fast - or perishing.

On this day, the bus conductor ruffled his pack of tickets with his thumb, the sound a distinct reminder of the rite of passage – one had to buy one’s stay on the bus. The boy pressed back as if trying to disappear from view. He could not however, avoid the experienced eye of the conductor. Every now and then the man would look around at him and flick his pack in warning. The boy would feebly feel in his pockets in response. Ticket, ticket, urged the man with his persistent thumb sounding his impatience, his stare unsympathetic. Watching the tension build up, I was touched by the boy’s woeful look. The point to disembark was approaching for me, so I decided to intervene in their byplay and help the child. As I moved forward to resolve the issue, to buy the ticket for him myself, the boy stood up and dug deep into his pockets. He brought out a coin that he placed in the man’s palm, and shrugged his shoulders to imply he had no more. The man glared at him, but turned away. He did not offer a ticket stub, nor was he asked for one. The boy hopped off the bus when it stopped, and behind him, I did too.

He seemed to gain energy as the bus trundled away. As I watched, he casually slung the bag across his shoulder. Then suddenly, he sprinted across the road beating the oncoming traffic. He seemed to be heading in the same direction that I was. I followed at a more sedate pace. On the other side on the road, he skipped along ahead on the sidewalk. I saw him pause a moment before darting in towards a roadside stall.  These are makeshift wooden structures where knickknacks are sold – chocolates, lozenges, potato chips, cigarettes, chewing tobacco, and so on. Their owners set up for business every day, keeping a weather eye open for the police. Because, whenever there is a clean-up drive, they must pack up and leave. 

The boy leaned on the counter, pointing at something in the stall, while holding out something he had clutched in his hand. As I came alongside, the stall-keeper took it and opened out the tight folds of paper money! I could see that the note would easily have covered the actual price of the boy’s bus ride. I shook my head and smiled wryly to myself as I walked on. So much for my expectations of childlike innocence, I thought! Indeed, this child has already learned to fend for himself in an unkind world.  Left to their own devices and exposed to a devious environment, children of disadvantage may practice the art of con, long before mastering the R’s.  The need for survival forces their early adaptation to harsh reality. Can we really fault the lonely flower for being touched by the surrounding muck?

Worthy of the gods

The other day, I noticed a long queue of young men outside the doctor’s chamber. I wondered what could make so many youths collectively sick. It turned out to be a recruitment drive and they awaited medical reviews. I imagined they were in the city chasing their dream job. They seemed to hail from rural areas, a little out of comfort zones in the urban surroundings. One by one they they were called into the room; some stayed there, but more returned outside. The ones returning were the ‘unfit’ group, and disappointment writ large on their faces. In their sheepish looks around, their continuity with tradition seemed imminent – that is, to abandon dreams in the face of failure. 

Indians invest huge effort in pursuing goals. The practice of rituals and identification with mythological characters is quite pronounced in this region, and so is the belief in fate. We presume to be descendants of the gods. Although lacking the requisite supernatural powers of the epic characters, we expect to be like Prince Arjuna, the archer extraordinaire of the epic Mahabharata who never missed a shot. Even through a reflection, he could pierce the eye of the fish revolving high above. Because Arjuna thus won the princess, we expect to be similarly blessed.  

We forget that as mundane humans, we have to contend with the interfering variables that mythology does not. Our talents also are not equivalent, and wins therefore, are dicey. But failure does not sit well with the heritage we claim. And when we do not succeed at the first try, we take it personal. We are shamed by failure, and do not invest in second chances. Should the one try we make hit target, we can continue to greater exploits. Should it not, we give up entirely. It is all or nothing, with no middle path. This is our morphogenetic learning, the song of culture, as it were. 

I remember being fascinated by rhymes in childhood. The cadence of similar sounding words allured me into ambitiously trying my hand at it. Like:

Donkeys can bray

Some houses are gray

Lions can roar

My pretty dress tore

Birds can fly

And I can cry.

Now, considering that English was then learned only in school, it may have been an achievement for a 5-year-old. But as ‘verse’ was probably little more than a few similar-sounding phrases strung together.  Perhaps with a few decades of honing, something impressive might have resulted. But while I quietly admired my handiwork, an English teacher of the school, noticed my childish scrawl. She was a tall, dark, severe-looking woman and we were all afraid of her. She took my little creativity and frowned at it. I awaited her response with trepidation, expecting punishment or at least a public dressing down for my temerity. Instead, she praised my penmanship as worthy of publishing in the school paper. Her intent, I am sure, was only to offer encouragement, and she probably put it out of her mind soon after. But I assumed she would make it soon happen. For days and weeks and months I waited for the word or sign of making the hit. When it never came to pass I my self-esteem so plummeted I never rhymed again.

We are not taught to handle defeat, hence the fear of public humiliation is consuming. In the school I went to as a child, getting exam results was like visiting the dentist. We could not just pick up our scores and leave – pain was inevitable! The entire class assembled, names were called one by one and performances announced. We learned early that being bottom of the class would earn sustained ridicule from peers. Chants of failure, failure would follow the unlucky everywhere, even amongst children that could hardly spell the word. I actually thought the term was ‘fail-year’, to signify unworthiness throughout the year. My anxiety was double because, at home, it was relative to the monies spent. The standard was set at first in class, and no result below that pleased the elders. So, each time, I died many deaths before I learned my fate!

Respect for elders is a strong thread of the Indian/Bengali cultural fabric. Authority figures are viewed too intimidating to question, and we tend to read divinity into their manner. Even half a century later, I recall the unwittingly effect of the Mss Broughton of the sixties that put paid to my poetic proclivity! Similarly, the group of ‘unfit’ young men would probably read one disappointing medical review as absolute rejection of worth. These Arjunas of the twenty-first century would soon pack up their dreams and fade into oblivion.  Do not give up, I exhorted forcefully in the vernacular. The bowed heads jerked up in surprise at my sudden interjection. ‘Unfit’ today does not make you unfit for life, I said. Ask to understand exactly why you fail the test today. Correct it, and make sure nobody finds you unfit the next time. I waggled a forefinger at them to emphasize the role of the social elder I was appropriating. The country wins if you win, I added, which brought reluctant smiles to their faces.

Engrossed in the mythological fantasy, the tendency with every bump on the road, is to quickly sideline opportunity as not fated for us. We need to respect our own efforts enough to change the dismissive social attitude that relegates to nothingness, genuine efforts on the learning path. To enable adaptability to a changing world, our stories must include personal experiences of failure to highlight the resilience we lack. As a people we now need to invest in new human stories from diversity to help us accept failure without shame. The historical tale of King Robert Bruce, for instance, who, inspired by the tenacity of the lowly spider, found the courage to fight again after six crushing defeats, to finally win his throne. The eye of the fish should be a guideline to focusing mind on task. We should not belittle ourselves by taking it as the only acceptable standard of achievement worthy of the gods.