The "jugaad" of Indians

There are a number of descriptions of India – hub of outsourcing, the land of the mystic, ancient culture and civilization etc. Depending on the seeker and the descriptor, the portrayal changes from one view to the next. However, to date I have not come across a single phrase or word that describes the contemporary Indian; the individual whose existence creates this country. For a long time I had been searching for this identity, till it suddenly dawned on me that the ideal description for all Indians is the simple Hindi word of “jugaad”. Loosely this can be translated into English as an “uncoordinated temporary solution”.

From the farmer living a hand to mouth existence to the vegetable vendor in Mumbai, the poor are all doing a jugaad for their next meal. The meagre salary earning drivers and domestic help are occupied with the jugaad of sending their children to school. Whether this translates into a loan from their employers or into multiple jobs a day, very few solutions are sustainable. The middle class is constantly engaged in the jugaad of earning more money and buying that new car or flat. Then even if it means approaching a bank for an unaffordable EMI loan or a stock market broker for a lottery winning stock tip, it’s all to take the shortest route to the top. Finally it’s the rich. They are constantly in search of the next jugaad to save on the upcoming tax liability.

At some point I think that corporate India is no different. Every company is doing some jugaad or the other – finding loopholes in policies, saving taxes, understaffing to curtail costs or finding a link in the old boys’ network to get away with non compliance of laws. The crown prince of all jugaad in India is the nation’s political system, with every politician (and political party) doing everything s/he can to win the next election; even if it means representing a different party (or alliance) in every consecutive election. Jugaad seems to have broken all barriers of religion, cast and creed to become an all pervasive identity.

The presence of jugaad, however, by no means indicates lack of enthusiasm or energy to work. In fact ask any Indian if something can be done and most often the reply is yes. The problem is that while the yes is said first, the how, which will implement the yes is not thought of until much later. In the absence of having thought through this how, the path leading to the solution becomes clumsy and messy, causing more accidents than needed.

Able thought leadership can very effectively and efficiently rid us of this identity, which while making us hard working also makes us less productive. According to Sanjeev Sanyal, the author of “the Indian Renaissance”, it is the decline in intellectual guidance and tactics that led to the decline of India in 1800s, much before the colonial rule took root. But history has proven that this thought leadership has not eroded from the country – Gandhi gave birth to one and India gained independence, Narsimha Rao and Manmohan Singh devised another and India started on the path to economic prosperity. Maybe it is time now for a new thought leadership to emerge to re-establish the lost glory of the Golden Eagle.

For this to emerge it is the educated youth, the professional with some financial backing who will need to take the lead. Can we do it? Yes! How? Let’s think about it today.

The Snow Clad City of Bridges

London, amongst the most beautiful cities in the world! London, a city that oozes character from every pore! London, a culmination of all that is romantic, poetic and lovable. London, a city that I recently left behind to move to my very own city - Mumbai.

In the last eight weeks, I hardly ever missed London; but today I am nostalgic. I am looking at the photographs of a snow clad London and can sense a sudden twinge at having missed my city in its white splendour. I wish I could share this rare momentous occasion with Londoners – walking on London Bridge or in Regent’s Park, taking a stroll on the snow covered river bank or just ice skating at the open air rink at Canary Wharf. London must be so different this time round!

My thoughts slowly steer towards the view from my office window. I can picture the snow and slit covered street albeit with fewer pedestrians, all covered head to toe in wool or fur. I can see myself, coffee in one hand and clutching my muffler in the other, rushing to enter the office. I wonder if the heater under my desk would keep me, the always freezing tropical specimen, warm through a day that had the entire city freezing to grounding halt?

And what would have the night been like? Would the concierge at the building turn up? Would the local grocery store be open in the evening as I returned from work? Would my friends turn up at home for a cup of masala tea and some pakoras? There is no end to all these and many more ifs in my mind that have kept me occupied for the last so many hours.

To call it a night I heave a reluctant sigh; alas I am not in London. But I promise to be there soon; and if not sooner then at least in the summer, when the sun is shining bright. On a glowing, yellow morning I will visit the park. On the lush green grass, by the swimming ducks; I shall laze, read my book and listen to the band. Once the music stops and the late afternoon crowds start swarming in, I shall go to my little café, have my latte and chat with my grocer. At the end of the perfect day, I will lie down and sleep soundly; thrilled at another opportunity to kiss the city that has made me who I am. I know I will be grateful for that one brief encounter.

Until then I sleep in my bed in Mumbai, knowing that I have returned to the place that is mine and to which I so truly belong. I rest assured in the knowledge that my decision was the right one and this is where I now need to establish myself. I would like to visit London with my dreams realised, so that London can be proud me; just as I am proud of my City of Bridges.

Regaining the Lost Balance

I cannot help but wonder why some people are just so important in our lives. How is it that they leave marks which are hard to erase? Why do they say things which are impossible to ignore? Why is it that their dreams become ours? These people are parents, siblings, friends, betterhalfs and then at some point our own children.

Ever since my return to India I have been absorbing the love of all my relationships. It has suddenly made me feel that the world is a little vase filled with the water of love with flowers of relationships blooming. I love this feeling and am grateful for it.

With these relationships come obligations. Not all of them are imposed; most of these are self impositions as emotions are hard to ignore. Accustomed to skating on the ice of life with freedom, suddenly maintaining the grace with the additional weight to pull is becoming tricky. Even though I use the word weight, I do not imply burden. I am just unable to describe what I have in tow; it is a voluntary baggage that I not only have selected but I need. I am a people’s person and those who are close to me are more important to me than everything else. So when I neglect them for work, I am taken over by guilt.

Calvin and Hobbs waited for an hour and I met them. One has been my lucky charm for years together and the other my absolute best friend in this whole wide world. The two of them together with me, it is happening after 3 years. It is a dream come true and yet not only did I make them wait but was on the phone with work for a long time after we met. While they repeatedly kept saying, “Tanu, its just work, relax,” I know they understand. Still I did not understand my own priorities. This is probably the most important time in both their lives and yet I was preoccupied.

Why are choices in life so difficult? Why is it that with the increase in sophistication and progress of technology, the availability of time for all that truly matters is becoming scarce? Why cannot feelings be just feelings and be felt? I wish I could regain my balance and poise; and glide and sail with all the love, emotions and career progression in tow. Is it too much to ask? If it is then I think I have prioritized, not in action yet but in words already.

Protecting and Prosecuting Crime against Women

A Russian lawyer and a journalist supporting his cause, both attempting to bring justice to a murdered rape victim, were gunned down three kilometers from an apex institution of the nation – the Kremlin. Their cause was admirable and their sacrifice noble. The irony of their death place is garish. However, there seem to be more important tasks that the governments world over are attending to, while the givers of life perish at the hands of the immoral and the unlawful.

One would hope, if not expect, that the situation would be different in a nation that has had amongst the longest serving female prime ministers in the world; has a current female head of state and even has a plethora of goddesses worshipped by a throng of staunch male devotees. Statistics, however, beg to differ. India ranks 113th out of 130 nations which were surveyed for gender parity[1]. Rape is the fastest growing crime in the country; faster than murder, robbery and even kidnapping. In fact it is estimated that two women in India are raped every sixty minutes[2]. And it is even more appalling to know that 25% of the reported offenses were committed against minors.

There are two distinct reasons for the growth in these crimes – one is the changing attitude and perception of the masses and the second is related to the law of the land. Given that people and especially women are slowly de-linking the offense from social stigma, there are more of these crimes being reported. Thus it might not be entirely correct to interpret the statistics in isolation. Even if one disregards the supposed growth in crime against women, the mere suggestion of two rapes an hour is horrifying. This is where the law comes into picture and it is saddening to understand that the Indian legal system still does not fully acknowledge the physical, mental and physiological damage caused by such gruesome acts.

Section 375 of the Indian Penal Code (IPC) defines rape as “intentional, unlawful sexual intercourse with a woman without her consent”. Questions that spring to mind immediately are (i) how does the law define forced oral sex and sodomy and (ii) is forced foreplay or engaging in all but penetration with a minor any less offensive. Those conversant with the law would like to state that while Section 375 might be narrow, Section 354 of the IPC does address the acts of forced oral sex, sodomy and even penetration by foreign objects. Further Section 377 of the IPC deals with ‘carnal intercourse against the order of nature’. However, the trouble is that neither of these two sections, acknowledge that violation of the female mind and body other than forced intercourse also tantamount to rape. This leaves a lot of room for perpetrators and their lawyers to get away with lesser than justified punishment[3].

For the culprit to be convicted, evidence is paramount. In the case of a rape, the primary sources of evidence are the physical examination and statement of the victim. Yet again, Indian legal system seems to fail the victim. Section 155 (4) of the Evidence Act requires that the victim be cross examined in the presence of the accused and that a detail of her past sexual history be noted as well. This not only is harsh and senseless but also fundamentally flawed. Research shows that rape victims suffer from acute and extensive psychological trauma during and after the incident. This leads to anxiety, concern for safety and development of mistrust becoming a part of the victim’s life[4]. With this backdrop, it is not far fetched to say that any cross examination in the presence of the one responsible for the trauma will be inaccurate and can potentially lead to further psychological damage. The law which is supposed to protect and preserve, in this one instance fails its purpose!

When it comes to minors the situation is direr. While most other countries in the world have separate laws dealing with child sexual abuse, Indian laws treat these crimes under the same Sections 375, 354 and 377. All the concession that the Indian legal system grants to minors is in terms of (i) Section 293 ‘sale, hire, distribution or circulation of obscene objects of literature to children’, (ii) Section 294 ‘obscene acts or utterances in public places’ or (iii) Section 511 ‘intent to rape’. This leaves the minors more vulnerable than adults who can comprehend the situation and voice their emotions. Stunned and puzzled children, even after expressing their experience, do not find redresses in the courts of law. This status quo is distressing in the knowledge that in the city of Mumbai alone, 60% of rape victims are girls between the ages of three and sixteen[5]!

The Indian Penal Code was introduced in 1860 and the first amendments to laws relating to rape and sexual assault were effected in 1983. In 2004 Sakshi (an Indian NGO) filed a public interest litigation seeking an amendment to the classification of various sexual offences, other than penile/vaginal penetration, as lesser offenses under the Indian Penal Code. The Apex court did not rule in favour of the social welfare organisation. Post that in 2005 that there were minor changes proposed via the Criminal Law Amendment Bill addressing Sections 354, 375, 377 and 509. However, these changes are limited to expediting trials and protecting evidence in case witnesses turn hostile.

I am finally left wondering - if the Russian lawyer and journalist were in India, would their quest to “defend the law against abuse by the state” even see a start?


[1] World Economic Forum
[2] National Crime Records Bureau
[3] Under Section 375, the punishment is seven years and upwards; Sections 354 and 377 are treated as other criminal offences and hence the prescribed punishment is not severe.
[4] See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rape_trauma_syndrome for further details
[5] The data is slightly outdated : WIN News 1999

Wish I had just some more time!

Yesterday I stormed into the hospital room and opened the curtains. He was lying on the bed and smiling. His smile made me feel warm. It gave me the confidence that I could probably be a little stern and get my way with him. All I wanted to do was to make him sit on his own. And he did albeit with a little bit of coaxing, some cajoling and yes even some emotional blackmailing. Yet I achieved my aim and hence was eagerly hopeful.

Today I walked into the room and found him in pain. The surgery and the anaesthesia had disoriented him more than his illness already had. I gently walked up to him and he took my hand into his. He clutched it tight and motioned me to sit by him. His grip was firm, despite his age and the wretched Parkinson’s, and that said all he wanted to but is unable to – he wants me close. His only grandchild in the city and I am not there for him for more than just a few hours in a week.

I can recall numerous evenings of umpteen summer vacations when I held on to his hand to cross the road and go horse riding. He never let go of my hand till I was on the horse. If I accompanied him to his morning walks, he would hold my hand as I stepped on the rocks by the sea and urge me to be careful. He would even hold my hand as I threw the grains to feed the pigeons on the terrace. Today, it is he who is holding on to my hand; and expects nothing but some time. Time to sit by him and talk to him not waiting for a response. Time to help him say all that he is feeling. Time so that he can be a grandfather once again. But alas! It is time that I do not have.

So caught up am I with the responsibilities of my own life that I have to ration it for the person who is responsible for the life that I have and I lead. If not for him I would not have had parents that I do. If not for his insistence, education would not have been valued like it is in my conservative family. If it was not he who encouraged not only his granddaughters today but also his daughters forty years ago to have a career, I would probably not be independent. So if not for him I would have not had the chance to know myself. And today that I do, I am too caught up with myself!

Ironic! He helped me be where I am today and I am unable to help him today. He stroked my head just a couple of years ago as I lay with my head in his lap. Now, I cannot even stroke his hand for long enough to comfort him. He was the one who was most eager for me to return to India. And my return seems to have disappointed him the most!

If such is the compromise required where I need to forsake emotional fulfilment for financial independence, not fully undertake my duties because I choose to endorse other responsibilities and where my ideals constantly clash with practicality; then I question if we as a generation are on the right path of growth. With the growing availability of resources, are we becoming more efficient or just more complacent? Or am I just being overly sentimental?

Slumdog Millionaire

Reading various articles on Slumdog Millionaire makes me think that the world actually believes that Indians are oblivious to the poverty that exists around us. I have recently moved to Mumbai from London and can safely say that is certainly not the case. Never once in my six years outside the country did I encounter an Indian who is unaware of the imbalanced economic growth in the country. Indians, here and globally, are very aware of the poverty. However, yes in the rat race to elevate their own standard of life, the able and the rich, ignore the poor.

Is Slumdog Millionaire the first movie to tackle this issue and highlight the despair of families surviving on less than USD 3 a day? Whether it is Bollywood, or film makers of the Indian diaspora globally, there are multiple films made on this issue. So Danny Boyle has made no first move. Are such efforts worth applause? Most definitely. They highlight artistic curiosity and skilful filmmaking. They promote innate talent and bring clean entertainment to the audience.

However, is just the depiction of these lives via the medium of cinema of any consequence? For those who want to present the underdeveloped third world India yes. For the “celebrities” like Amitabh Bachchan who believe that this is the reality and we need to accept it; yes movies such as this make a lot of sense. It gives them something to talk about on the dining table and with the media to promote themselves. However, other than that there is not much impact that these films have. No person in power or a position of authority has ever used such cinema to lay down a concrete action plan. Has Mr. Bachchan used his power and his wife's status as a member of parliament to do something about the abject poverty in the country? Acknowledging the truth will do us good only if we do something to change the situation!

There are NGOs that are working towards giving children living in the slums a better life (Akanksha, CRY, Pratham etc.), however, that effort needs more whole hearted support from the Indian masses. The upper middle class, NRIs and the celebrities need to spend time, effort and yes money for these children. We can all pick on the limitations of each nation and sitting in the cozy confines of our homes have intellectual debates on the same. That is all easy. The difficult part is to be a contributor in the change that we want to see.

If Slumdog Millionaire can provoke Indians to take action; then it will be a different movie. If not, it will be another movie on an age old subject just well made as the producers, who had access to a pot of money, decided to spend that money for their own benefit rather than use it to improve the life of those that their film portrays.

http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/films/features/slumdogs-who-seek-success-1380414.html

A Wish

As I typed, the leaf kept soothing my hand, drawing away all the tiredness. The wind blew and with that the strides of the yellow leaf became longer. In the middle of the night, the breeze and the leaf were my ticket to relaxation. I was in such bliss that it took me a while to realise, that the leaf that was bringing me so much respite, was merely stroking the reflection of my hand in the window.

The one that was far seemed so close. The one out of reach was in my grasp. And so I wonder, if only the heart’s most sincere longings could turn into reality; the world would be a much better place. With this thought I close my eyes and transit into a world of dreams. Hopefully when tomorrow comes the window will be gone and the leaf will indeed be mine.