Peace Marches

(28 Dec ‘08)

            Bombay (sorry, Mumbai. It’s been years since the name change and we still call it B city) has seen so many peace meetings recently, that one really has begun to feel blessed. A few days after 26/11 (ah so many dates to remember, now) Mumbaites decided to descend upon the Gateway of India. Just outside the Taj (still being argued whether it or VT/CST is the icon of Mumbai), lakhs of ‘common’ people (versus the uncommon ones who stayed at home) congregated with candles, posters and charts honouring the martyrs. The dead three cops who wouldn’t have been martyrs if they’d taken the situation seriously were staring, smiling from photographs everywhere. Not a single photo of any NSG who knew they may not come out alive, who went it to do something no cop would…these guys walked in, did what has been acknowledged as the toughest operation in the world as of now, and walked out anonymously. No fuss, just brilliance. No great praises for them, no money, no awards, just satisfaction. Wonder whether anyone in that crowd thought about them. Burning candles… what would that achieve? I’m being extremely cynical, but even the cost of a single candle, multiplied by so many people, would give a scholarship to an orphaned child. But it might not make good media material.

            What was truly good was the solidarity shown, though it took a Taj, not a VT/CST to make that happen.

            Then, a few days ago, at Shivaji Park (it was the British who made such a large park and the Turf Club for us, after Independence, I don’t think such a space has been created anywhere in India. In fact, even in Mumbai, beyond Mahim/Sion, no such planned and maintained space exists) there was a meeting of college students. What did they do? Heard fogies of my age give speeches. The Sheriff is a headmistress of a local college and I think she’s tried to do a lot in her tenure. However, one runs out of ideas sometimes. Getting thousands of youngsters together was a good idea. Reducing their energy to boredom wasn’t. They’d sweated it out under a December sun (actually, it’s as bad as March this year, but weather change is the topic for another column) and after hearing platitudes from those on the stage, decided to sneak out. It was a compulsory exercise, one disgruntled professor told me. Should be, I agree, to have certain things not restricted to free will. According to me, a young song-writer, band, musician should have worked up a peppy number that would be remembered for ever. Think “The Answer My Friend Is Blowing in the Wind” and you’ll understand what effect that would’ve had. Most of all an excellent orator is what would’ve made a world of a difference. These days, there’s so little stress on debating and elocution in schools, where will good orators spring from? Much of what children learn is from television, and that’s a passive activity. (I think Nach Baliye and Saregamapa have done more for the performing arts than most schools, but that’s yet another story).

            What impressed me most of all about this whole Shivaji Park episode was the end. After four hours of squirming and fidgeting, over the mike was played the national anthem. Instantly, a hundred thousand persons stood still. Some in the middle of walking, playing the fool, stretching, whatever. Shivaji Park silent and unmoving is a marvel to behold. I beheld it and am still marveling at what I witnessed. The sole creature that moved, and thus accentuated the stillness, was a very old bhaiya carrying his groundnut basket. Perhaps he was hard of hearing.

            All in all, the fact that this Mumbai thing has still held together the Hindus and Muslims in the city, indeed, in the country, assures me that we’re a civilized nation. No doubt about that. The Peace Marches, despite my criticisms of them, proved it. Jai Hind.

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133. Painting Panaji Purple.