Urvashi Sarkar

Thoughts, stories and ideas.

rank: Archive

  • Wikipedia, Bhanwari Devi and the need for an alert feminist republic

    Photo: kafila.online

    Published in Kafila. 27 June 2014

    Until June 20th 2014, if you visited the Wikipedia entry on Bhanwari Devi — a women’s rights Dalit activist who was raped for taking on child marriage in an upper caste community in her Rajasthan village— you would have been in for a nasty surprise.

    The following lines from the biography section of the article would have stood out starkly:

    “Bhanwari, the young, illiterate potter woman…strutting about the village giving gratuitous, unctuous advice to her social superiors made attempts to persuade the family against carrying out their wedding plans. Standing unveiled in the street outside the house of the brides-to-be she loudly berated the elderly patriarch… flaunted her government appointment…and threatening them that she would stop at nothing to ensure their public disgrace by stopping the planned marriage.”

    The citation for this paragraph was provided as ‘Bhateri Rape Case: Backlash and Protest’ by Kanchan Mathur published in the Economic and Political Weekly (EPW).

    Not a single sentence from that paragraph features in the EPW article; but a preceding paragraph in the Wikipedia entry, which describes Bhanwari Devi’s work as a sathin or grassroots worker with the Women’s Development Project of the Rajasthan Government, is correctly attributed to the EPW piece.

    Another paragraph titled ‘The alleged gang rape’ stated that after the Deputy Superintendent of Police (DSP) who examined Bhanwari for signs of injury “found only two extremely minor bruises” and doubted her story — Bhanwari is alleged to have claimed that she was a minor, “and therefore any intercourse with her, even if she had been a willing participant…was a criminal offense..” It further notes that the DSP sent her to the Primary Health Centre  (PHC) for a test “confirming the age of the victim”. The citation for this is provided as a chapter titled ‘The Politics of Patriarchy and Sathin Bhanwari’s Rape’ by Taisha Abraham from the book Women and the Politics of Violence.

    While the chapter in question notes that the DSP, with whom Bhanwari tried to lodge an FIR, doubted her story – there is no reference to Bhanwari’s claims of being a minor. Instead, it questions how a medical examination confirming the age of the victim – standard procedure for determining child marriage– could be relevant for a woman over 40 years old.

    The entry also has parts highlighting Bhanwari’s trials and triumphs – such as her being forced to deposit her skirt at the police station as evidence; mentioning her national and international recognition and awards, as well as the Vishaka guidelines relating to sexual harassment at the work place, which were a direct outcome of her struggles

    Thus, the Wikipedia piece revealed a distinct pattern – of factually accurate information from sources such as The Indian Express, Tehelka, People’s Union of Civil Liberties, The Hindu and Rediff, interspersed with large chunks of anonymous points of view, often wrongly attributed to these sources.

    The ‘Summary of evidence’ section, which lacks citation,  is described as confirming the claim of Bhateri villagers that Bhanwari was a “village slut”, “a professional prostitute who felt cheated by life and exploited by men”, it being “easiest for her to claim that she was raped.”

    The entry included the claim that Bhanwari refused compensation offered by her rapists because she was “enjoying unprecedented fame and publicity from the media and money from various organizations…” Some of the court observations are mentioned, which state that Bhanwari’s husband couldn’t have passively watched his wife being gang-raped and that since the accused included an uncle-nephew pair, it was implausible that a middle-aged man from an Indian village would participate in a gang rape in the presence of his own nephew. These court observations, sourced from Shivam Vij’s ‘A Mighty Heart’, published by Tehelka, are twisted out of context and distort the intent of the attributed article which is to highlight Bhanwari’s struggles and tenacity. This information is instead used to justify how her upper caste Gurjar rapists won the court case “because of the sheer strength of Truth.”

    Interestingly, the article steered clear of the most crucial and infamous part of the verdict: “Since the offenders were upper-caste men and included a brahmin, the rape could not have taken place because Bhanwari was from a lower caste.” But the interpolating author’s leanings are evident in the sympathetic language used for the accused Gurjar men who are described as being poor; illiterate and knowing nothing about court procedures or media management. “Unlike Bhanwari, they received no help from any social organization, activist, agenda-pusher or busybody.” No citation is provided for this information.

    It was claimed that a speedy verdict was given despite media scrutiny and pressure from women’s groups, and that several judges felt coerced, “and unable to deliver the obvious, adverse judgment.”

    It appears that a standard piece with two citations originally, has been added to by several editors over the course of time. While some have made responsible additions, others have distorted the basic structure of the entry in misogynist and casteist ways.

    Violation of Wikipedia’s content policy

    The problems with the Wikipedia article as I read it before June 20th are several — wrongly citing information is only one of them. Even more troubling is that such insertions are deliberately aimed at discrediting Bhanwari Devi herself.

    Further, the article in the form in which I read it violated  Wikipedia’s ‘biographies of living people’ policy according to which contentious material which is  unsourced or poorly sourced must be immediately removed, especially if potentially libellous. Further such articles must adhere to a neutral point of view, verifiability, and contain no original research – comprising the website’s core content policy. Wikipedia clarifies on its website that it is not a tabloid, but an encyclopaedia, and its job is not to be sensationalist or titillating.  The article violated all these norms; in being poorly sourced, defamatory, lacking neutrality or verifiability, containing new unattributed information; and being both sensationalist and titillating.

    Editing Wikipedia – the perils of democracy on the internet

    The fact that anyone can edit Wikipedia entries is its biggest plus and also a drawback. For instance, changes made by one editor can be repeatedly reversed by others.   How easy is it to edit Wikipedia?

    Says Bishakha Datta, who is on the Wikimedia Foundation Board of Trustees:

    “Wikipedia can be relatively hard to understand because it is a certain model of open knowledge. Most users are not knowledge producers, rather they are knowledge seekers. But they can be both and there can be barriers that people experience such as the technical barrier. There are editing options such as ‘edit source’ and ‘editbeta’ and the latter is easier. But how does one know beforehand? Another barrier relates to policy and rules, wherein you are unsure of the rules and policies that govern editing and writing for Wikipedia.  The time barrier is also a deterrent – properly editing a Wikipedia is time consuming and requires high motivation.”

    Editing or writing a Wikipedia entry is akin to writing a research paper, complete with citations and references,  requiring a lot of work.

    In cases such as the Bhanwari Devi page, one can flag concerns by visiting the ‘Talk’ tab on page. There are also ways of protecting articles, so that they cannot be edited by one and all.

    Need for an alert feminist public

    “Wikipedia is the world’s fifth largest website and managed entirely by unpaid volunteers. There are 80,000 active editors who try to improve Wikipedia’s content which is always a work in progress,” says Bishakha.

    This is not an easy task given that most people have jobs, and work on Wikipedia on an unpaid volunteer basis.  Frequent Wikipedia workshops could be held for familiarisation with editing. More importantly, there is need for an ‘alert feminist public’, both online and offline, which can remain vigilant and combat misogynist tendencies in all kinds of spaces – whether cultural, lingual, political, economic, or academic.

    Finally, we must not forget that Bhanwari Devi who was raped in the line of duty in 1992 — and to whose struggle and courage we owe theSexual Harassment of Women at Workplace (Prevention, Prohibition and Redressal) Act, 2013— has still not received justice 22 years after she was raped.  After a sessions court verdict found the accused not guilty in 1995, the Rajasthan state government filed an appeal against the verdict in the Rajasthan High Court where it continues to languish.

    The Wikipedia page on Bhanwari Devi is currently undergoing extensive edits by concerned editors.

    Read the original article: https://kafila.online/2014/06/27/wikipedia-bhanwari-devi-and-the-need-for-an-alert-feminist-public-urvashi-sarkar/#more-23117

  • The displaced of Muzaffarnagar

    Article published in DNA. 21 January 2014

    Don’t mention the word cancer,” cautions Liaqat Sheikh as he leads the way to a small tent in Joula camp where his wife Bina is bedridden. It is pitch dark inside. There is electricity only at night. Bina lies tucked under blankets, and struggles to sit up, her face gaunt. Though her family has kept the tent clean, the surrounding squalor and dirt of the camp defeat the purpose.

    “The doctors suspect cancer. This can only be confirmed after tests are done in Delhi,” says Liaqat, who belongs to Hasanpur village. Liaqat fled with his family, including six children, during the Muzaffarnagar riots of September 2013 and found refuge at a camp in Joula in Muzaffarnagar.

    Bina requires proper medical care, but Liaqat is unable to proceed with treatment since he has lost his source of livelihood. The family sold their buffalo for her diagnosis which cost them Rs35,000-40,000. Doctors have asked them to shift Bina to a hospitals in Dehradun or Chandigarh, where the cost of treatment is beyond their reach. “My house was burnt down. I have incurred losses worth Rs4-5 lakh. The expenses for my wife’s treatment have so far come from my brothers, loans on interest and imdad (relief),” says Liaqat, his tone a mix of resignation and anger. Compensation is remote since the Uttar Pradesh government has not yet recognised Hasanpur village as riot-affected, though it is part of the Lisadhi gram panchayat, which was recognized as riot-hit.

    Liaqat’s plight is not a stray affair. There is misery all around in the camp. According to Ghulam Mohammed Joula of the Bharatiya Kisan Mazdoor Manch, 90,000 to 1 lakh people were rendered without livelihoods following the riots. “They have lost their homes and jobs and are surviving on aid. People were initially engaged as labourers, drivers and carpenters, but now they have no source of income.” Poverty has induced existing illnesses to fester and encouraged fresh ones to take root.

    Close to Bina’s tent, lives Afsana who suffers from tuberculosis and visits Mehrauli every fortnight to receive treatment. Neither she nor her husband have any source of income. There is also Mohammed Qasim, worried about his nine-year-old son Umar. While rolling up the boy’s sleeves, Qasim draws attention to a bone jutting out, which must be set. “His hand was plastered but it didn’t help.”

    Thirty five-year-old Sanjeeda, mother of four, has been suffering from a staggering range of illnesses, including tuberculosis, jaundice and typhoid. She has lost all but her voice and even then struggles to speak. Her husband earns Rs300 a day, which is spent for her treatment.

    Nasima, who lost her son in the wake of the riots has been experiencing fits, but her husband Raisuddin cannot afford her treatment. Mohammed Salim’s wife Husno suffers from nerve blockage after an operation. Akhleem’s daughter Najma has developed a septic condition after giving birth.

    Government doctors occasionally visit Joula on request. According to Askari Naqvi, a lawyer with  the Joint Citizen’s Initiative, though the state government has been involved in some relief work, when it comes to health care, its track record has been dismal. “There is little in terms of health infrastructure. The health sub-centre at Loi has a bunch of incompetent staff. The camps aren’t prepared to deal with pregnant and lactating women and newborns. It is mostly the NGOs who got doctors to the camp.” Askari has also written to UP Chief Secretary Jawed Usmani with the details of 140 ailing people, but, hasn’t received any response. Askari recalls instances when ambulance drivers had to be begged to carry the sick, and government doctors who visited camps in vehicles, chose to stay inside the vehicles and asked people to come to them instead.

    Muzaffarnagar District Magistrate Kaushal Raj Sharma said the state government funded Bina’s — the woman suspected with cancer — initial tests. “We also paid for another woman’s operation. At Loi, we have opened a permanent health sub-centre where people from Joula visit.

    The Samajwadi Party government is providing relief not only in camps, but also for those scattered in villages.” When asked about the dismantling of the camps, he claimed that no camp had been forcibly shut. “We merely want people to move out of the open to safer closed spaces.”

    According to the UP government, many individuals lodged in camps were not riot-affected but came seeking free land and doles. But talk to the people of villages like Hasanpur, and they recall the horrors of September, which forced them to flee.

    A pregnant Gulshana lost her twin babies in the riots. She is from Karonda Mahajan which lies between Lakh and Phugana villages — the last two were declared as riot-affected but Karonda Mahajan was not. Her father Mohammad Isaq says that though their property is intact, they are scared to return. “My daughter was hit and fell to the ground. We heard screams and gunshots.

    How can we return?”

    The state is yet to grant compensation to villagers from Karonda Mahajan, Hasanpur, Kuraba, Dulhaira, Kheri-Patti, Dhindhavli, Kinoni, Haroli, Bhajju, Bhaura-Kalan and several others who had suffered during the riots. Only nine villages from Muzaffarnagar and Shamli districts have been identified for compensation. In cases where the victim received compensation of Rs5 lakh, a substantial chunk has gone into buying land for building homes. The precious little that remained is being spent on survival. Additionally, they are required to forsake the right to return to their villages.

    A visit to Kandhla, Malakpur and Joula camps reveals that some relief had reached through civil society’s efforts. The victims, at least, had a single layer (though flimsy) of warm clothing. They are grateful for the clothes and food but mention the need for housing. At Malakpur camp, brick structures have emerged, though most people still continue to live in tents. One also sees goats and bullocks. This was not the case in September when, after the riots broke out, these camps witnessed poverty and starvation. Imran Mohammed of Malakpur camp has opened a small provisions store where he sells sweets. A few have started selling vegetables. At Kandhla camp, Nafedi Babu says that he has sent two sons to Haryana to work in the garments business. But men finding work are exceptions. The displaced of Muzaffarnagar are grappling with issues that determine their survival — health, livelihood and homes, even as the SP looks the other way.

    Read the original article: https://www.dnaindia.com/analysis/column-the-displaced-of-muzaffarnagar-1954459

  • Fear in Muzaffarnagar camps: We won’t go back, they will burn us

    File photograph of paramilitary forces in Muzaffarnagar after the riots. AP

    Published in Firstpost. 15 November 2013

    Not far from Delhi, the nondescript interiors of Malakpur village in western Uttar Pradesh’s Shamli district present an unusual sight— countless rows of small, coloured plastic tents have been hoisted on a dirt ground, stretching as far as the eye can see.

    Small piles of litter dot the periphery. Scrawny children play in the dirt, while their mothers sit in the tents. Some of the women are pregnant.  The men idle around in groups. A slightly larger tent has been erected where two men administer the distribution of medicines.

    This was the scene at a Malakpur camp in Muzaffarnagar in early October. This camp was initially home to around 5,000 people, mostly Muslims, who lost their homes in the wake of the September 7 Muzaffarnagar violence which left three young men dead—two Jats and a Muslim, and displaced around 50,000 almost instantly. Over 40 people lost their lives in the violence which continues to simmer.

    There were 17 camps in Shamli district, of which five are remaining with about 4,000-5,000 people. According to Rahana Adib, an activist with Astitva Samajik Sanstha, who has worked in Muzaffarnagar for nearly a decade, the situation in these camps has further deteriorated. “People are falling increasingly sick. The nearest hospitals in Muzaffarnagar , 35-40 km away, are overcrowded, with two persons to a bed in some cases. In one instance, a woman had to give birth in a camp since she could not reach the hospital. When it rained recently, the tents could not provide much protection.  Children are still out of school. A number of small children were also recently married off. How can the situation be any better?” she says on the phone.

    Uttar Pradesh Chief Minister, Akhilesh Singh Yadav recently announced compensation of Rs. 10 lakh to the next of kin of those who were killed, and Rs. 5 lakh each to displaced families. If government authorities are to be believed, many of those who are lodged in camps have not impacted by the violence. Compensation is being given only to those who were displaced from Lisar, Bhawari and Lak villages. “Not even one-third of the people in the camps have been impacted by the riots,” said Shamli District Magistrate PK Singh.

    The land on which the Malakpur camp is located belongs to the forest department. According to Singh, rumours were spread that that free land parcels were being distributed at Malakpur.

    The DM also alleged that local Muslims leaders were responsible for spreading these rumors, inducing people to leave. “We tried hard to stop them from coming. Many of those in the camps are landless and poor labourers.”

    PK Singh claimed that many of them have returned to their villages. “Jats and Muslims have not turned enemies overnight. They were living together peacefully since a long time.”

    Media accounts have similarly painted a rosy picture of Muzaffarnagar’s Jat-Muslim relations prior to the violence. But locals in Muzaffarnagar note that it has long been witness to instances of murder, robbery, eloping and violence, often among the two communities. In Muzaffarnagar, Jats are the main land-holders, and the Muslims are labourers, though some Muslims also possess small land holdings.  Locals say that these issues were not played up communally, until recently, and piece together a narrative involving a bid by the BJP to lay stake to power in Uttar Pradesh and efforts by a local BJP MLA Hukum Singh to fan discontent against the minorities.

    Further, civil society teams which have been visiting the camps of the displaced have found that the mood on the ground was strongly against any return to the villages. For instance, a group of displaced Muslim women from Lisar village in Kandhla camp asserted that return was impossible since they feared for their lives. “They (the Jats) burnt our houses, next they will burn us,” said a pregnant Shabana whose house was burnt down.  The women either wanted land in the city, or if at all have to live in villages, want to stay in Muslim majority areas.

    The Muzaffarnagar District Magistrate Kaushal Raj Sharma said that barring nine villages that had faced the brunt of the violence, people were leaving the camps to stay with relatives or are buying land and building houses with the compensation they have been given. In Muzaffarnagar, government jobs are also being given to families which lost a member in the violence.

    Though the government is engaged in aid and relief work and is trying to give an impression that it is facilitating the exit of people from the camps to resume their lives, the administrative apathy is visible. Three-year-old Nargis, who when we met her at Kandhla camp, was unable to walk because of malnutrition. The small camp dispensary where we saw her was attended by a young man who insisted that the mother to go to a big hospital, obtain a ‘sunvai’ and then get medicines and treatment.

    The exact origins of the Muzaffarnagar violence are hard to pin down, but the sense that emerges was that an isolated incident— a skirmish, was given communal overtones for narrow political gains. It was the Muslim community which received the heaviest blow, caught unawares by an engineered violence, which ripped through the already tenuous social fabric which constitutes Muzaffarnagar society.

    Read the original article: https://www.firstpost.com/politics/fear-in-muzaffarnagar-camps-we-wont-go-back-they-will-burn-us-1218959.html

  • Imprints of a people

    PHOTO: Courtesy Ketaki Sheth/Photoink and National Gallery of Modern Art

    Published in The Hindu. 7 October 2013

    Intimate glimpses of the life of a community, vignettes from their culture and people at their unaffected best have been movingly captured by veteran photographer Ketaki Sheth in an exhibition on the Sidi, little known Indian tribes of African descent.

    Between 2005 and 2011, Ketaki travelled through Gujarat, Bombay, Goa, Hyderabad and the forests near Manchikere in Karnataka, clicking the Sidi. Elaborating on the complex process which yielded these photographs, Ms. Sheth said in an email, “As an outsider to a small community, I had to make sure I won their confidence and friendship. I took time to photograph them and returned with their pictures; slowly a friendship formed and I owe this to the three Sidi I have dedicated my book to.” The exhibition takes its title, ‘A Certain Grace. The Sidi: Indians of African Descent’, from her book which was launched earlier this year.

    These bold and arresting pictures, all in black and white, are striking in their grace and spontaneity and depict the community in a range of contexts and moods — the Sidi at home, at work, at music and dance, at festive and religious ceremonies.

    The pictures arouse a medley of emotions — ranging from the easy camaraderie of young boys, to the protectiveness of sisterhood, the cheekiness of youth, the shy delight of a bride-to-be, to the chutzpah of elderly women. The pictures of the Sidi also contain a great deal of natural imagery, such as forests, water and animals.

    According to an artiste statement by Ms. Sheth, the Sidi arrived in India well over 500 years ago as seafarers, merchants and slaves from the east coast of Africa. Her book on the Sidi also contains an introduction to the community by Prof. Mahmood Mamdani, a prominent Ugandan academic of Indian origin. According to Prof. Mamdani, the Sidi migrated to India over successive historical periods as traders, armed African sailors, pearl divers and as slave-soldiers.

    The Sidi in India have predominantly Scheduled Tribe (ST) status. According to the Union Ministry of Tribal Affairs website, the Sidi have ST status in districts of Goa, Gujarat, Karnataka and Daman and Diu. Talking of discrimination against them, Ms. Sheth says she is aware of instances of racial barbs and problems with getting a passport. She mentions the instance of a Diu-based Sidi who was discouraged from joining the Indian Army, after people told him that he would not be accepted.

    “I think the real problem is that their ST status does not always get them the benefits they ought to get and some Sidi feel that other tribes are more fortunate,” she says.

    Prof. Mamdani in his essay also quotes the Sidi who say that unlike other tribes, they have not been able to organise well. The lack of Sidi in politics, teaching and medicine has resulted in their not being aware of their rights.

    Over the centuries, the Sidi have embraced local language, dress and food, but retain a distinct African heritage in their appearance, dance, music and spiritual practices. Though most Sidi live in rural areas, they are also in cities such as Mumbai, small towns and cities in Gujarat. Their religious composition is diverse — they are Sufis in Gujarat, Mumbai and Hyderabad; and Christians and Hindus in Goa and Karnataka respectively.

    Some of the most memorable imagery in the exhibition is of women. The images of Reshma, a part-time student and farmer; Hirbaiben Lobi posing on her three acre farm; the cigarette-puffing Aminaben and the strikingly beautiful Rizwana are hard to forget, and linger on.

    “I found the women to be strong, fearless and dynamic,” says Ms. Sheth, citing the instance of Hirbaiben Lobi, a farmer who employs Sidi women in her local organic manure business and is also celebrated for organising around 600 women from households where men would drink and gamble. There are other examples — of Farida who holds a bank job and spends her free time helping out in her community and Salmaben who has helped women resolve family and land-related problems.

    Ms. Sheth has been interviewed by a Johannesburg radio show and also been contacted by galleries and academics in relation to her work with the Sidi. But she is not sure how aware people in Africa are of the Sidi, or for that matter, if there is awareness of the community even in India where they live.

    The exhibition which is on till November 3 at the Jaipur Gallery, National Gallery of Modern Art, Delhi, is presented by NGMA in collaboration with Photoink.

    Read the original article: https://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-national/tp-newdelhi/imprints-of-a-people/article5208365.ece

  • Advocates of a secure life deplore my uncertain existence

    Illustrations: Rishabh Arora

    Published in Tehelka Magazine. 22 September 2012

    What happens when a journalist quits her respectable job of two years with a respectable newspaper and a barely respectable salary for higher studies? I originally assumed I would spend a quiet and uneventful two years pursuing Masters in international relations. The family acquiesced with my decision, thus making the initial transition possible. I expected no major troubles, given my decision to finance myself for the duration of study.

    A year into the course, and despite initial family approval, I find myself repeatedly justifying my transition, especially to the older generation (venerable elders), who can’t quite figure out why I want to study.“Kya karoge itna padhke?” a venerable family elder asks me with amusement and cynicism. My suggestion that I am studying because of interest in the subject is sceptically received. The other suggestion that I have returned to the classroom for newer ideas is met with dubious looks.

    The frequent debates about the direction my life is taking are usually summed up by the “what’s next?” question. “Maybe I’ll get a job or I’ll study further,” I answer. The venerable elders favour work. I counter that it isn’t easy to always effect a transition.

    One day, I casually announce plans for an MPhil. Shock and awe is followed by “You don’t want to live in educated poverty forever, do you?” I stay silent. “If you want to become a professor, then it’s not a problem. But they don’t earn very much, do they?” Sixth Pay Commission, I venture, but the elder continues: “You should be comfortable in life and settle down.”

    Nothing wrong with being comfortable, of course. But can’t I do it at my own pace and terms?

    As I harp on my intent to pursue MPhil, the venerable elders yield. Apply abroad, they suggest. ‘Abroad’ is pitched as a vague, rarefied space, a guarantor of rich rewards. “What if I don’t want to study abroad because it makes sense for me to study here?” I demand.

    Knowing the venerable elders, it will take a lot of convincing and impassioned arguments before I’m allowed to have my way. I dare say I have mostly had a largely free hand with regard to career and education choices. But then I turned 25, the age when sirens begin to wail in middleclass households. After bouts of stormy confrontations, I manage to fend off marriage, only temporarily though, till the next proposal generates another noisy bout.

    The prospect of MPhil makes the elders jittery. I am half jokingly told: “By the time you finish your MPhil, you will be an old hag and nobody will marry you.” Strangely, the return to academics is also dubbed as “running away from life!” On the contrary, I find student life tougher than work life. I haven’t broken my ties with journalism yet and continue to write and report. This juggling act can be fairly chaotic; I find myself pitching stories in the midst of examinations. Freelancing is not a reliable option in terms of pay or punctuality of pay.

    Life as a Masters student has been liberating. I have met like-minded women and men, been taught by inspiring teachers and gained critical insights into things that were otherwise accepted unquestioningly. Myths are being busted and new beliefs are being formed. I also get time to travel, courtesy weekend holidays, summer and winter vacations; albeit on shoestring budgets. Academics after work experience also means I can make several meaningful connections between theory and practice.

    Advocates of a “safe and secure” life might deplore my uncertain existence. But I’ve found it liberating to cast away the claustrophobic security net and explore, notwithstanding my critics.

    Read the original article: http://old.tehelka.com/advocates-of-a-secure-life-deplore-my-uncertain-existence/

  • The dream of a long distance runner

    Published in The Hindu. 20 September 2012

    A brow gleaming with perspiration from the sultry Delhi weather, knees and arms bending and stretching effortlessly and an agile body which looks raring to sprint off at any moment – Arun Bhardwaj appears every inch an athlete. He is busy preparing for the audacious task of being the first person to run solo from Kargil to Kanyakumari, as he works out in the green environs of Nehru Park.

    ‘Run Arun Run’

    Arun will clock 4,000 kms over a course of 60 days beginning October 1. His route will include Leh, Kullu, Chandigarh, Delhi, Agra, Jhansi, Nagpur, Hyderabad, Bangalore and Madurai. The message of the run is ‘Kargil to Kanyakumari; India is one’ according to his Facebook page aptly titled ‘Run Arun Run’.

    The ruddy glow on his face belies his 43 years. One is struck with further wonder as he narrates the metamorphosis from the ailing child weighing 26 kilos in Class IX to an athlete in the prime of health and physical fitness. “I have repeatedly suffered from malaria since Class II till 19 years of age. I was a sickly child. Even if I played football, I would always be placed at the back of the team. I also underwent four major surgeries of the parotid tumour between 14 and 17 years of age,” says Arun.

    Towards his third year of college, Arun started reading Swami Vivekananda, The Bhagavad Gita and doing yoga. “Perhaps that is when it all started,” muses Arun, who graduated from Delhi University and now works for the Planning Commission.

    The main trigger for Arun to become an ultra distance runner was his daughter’s birth. “I wanted to inspire her to run for the country.” He has another daughter and son whom he also encourages to run. Arun began running seriously at the age of 31 and has since participated in and won ultra marathons and endurance races across the world. He has also been touted as India’s first internationally recognised ultra distance runner.

    Toughest race

    He describes his toughest race till date as the South Africa six-day race in 2010. “It was continuously raining and the ground was muddy. Since the race kitchens were non-vegetarian, I survived on apples, bananas and oranges.” Victory was thus sweeter when Arun clinched the top position in the race, clocking over 90 kms daily.

    Arun, whose body has to accomplish extraordinary feats, follows no ordinary diet. He consumes half a kilo of honey, 10 litres of juice and dry fruits everyday and food with very little oil and spices. Arun claims he does not go to the gym. “Our body already has all it requires. Nothing external is needed.”

    But it is Arun’s exercise regimen which is inspiring and even jaw-dropping. “I work for the Planning Commission in Central Delhi and live in Dwarka. I sometimes run from home to office in the morning which is a distance of 25 kilometres.”

    Preferring to gloss over the politics dogging the treatment of various sports in India, Arun concentrates instead on drumming up excitement for his upcoming run which will doubtlessly be an opportunity of a lifetime, even for him.

    Cover photo for representation

    Read the original article: https://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-in-school/the-dream-of-a-long-distance-runner/article3916308.ece

  • The neighbourhood bazaar

    Article published in The Hindu Sunday Magazine. 24 December 2011

    Dam ka Qeema mix, Haleem mix, Barbeque Biriyani mix, Paya mix, Karahi Gosht mix, Seekh kebab mix. As I scanned the glossy expanse of spice mixture packets used for pepping up a myriad of delicacies, I was instantly tempted to buy a packet of each from the Habib Spice Stall where they were on display at the Pakistan pavilion of the recently concluded India International Trade Fair.

    Accompanied by drool-worthy pictures of the dish, complete with directions to cook it the traditional Pakistani way, these spice offerings were truly hot. A Karachi-based company, Habib was one of the few spice brands which set up shop at the trade fair. “Habib has been exhibiting at the IITF since two years,” says stall manager Mustafa Hasan. “Shan (another spice brand) has been exhibiting its products at the IITF since six years,” he adds. Shan and Habib, I am told, are major rivals in the spices segment of Pakistan. “There are 70 Pakistani exhibitors. If more space had been allotted, more exhibitors from Pakistan would have come forward,” Mustafa says.

    Most of the spices on sale are meant to flavour non-vegetarian dishes. “Indians are mostly vegetarian, while in Pakistan, the diet is predominantly non-vegetarian,” says Mustafa, echoing a widely-held belief regarding the food habits of the two countries. However, sales are brisk.

    Persisting beliefs

    As we speak, Mustafa tells me that he is interested in buying Indian ethnic goods. He has visited Fabindia and wants more suggestions. Based on my limited knowledge, I ask him to visit the Cottage Industries Emporium, Dilli Haat and Khadi Emporium. Mustafa has heard of the first two.

    Moving on, I see Sabeen Akbar, Chief Executive of her clothing enterprise, using her persuasive skills to convince a woman to buy a richly embellished suit piece. She quotes a high price. “These goods would not be so expensive if they were not hand-made. Karachi deals mainly in manufactured goods while handmade items can be found in Multan,” she says.

    As I roam from stall to stall, I ask how business has been and get mostly discouraging replies. “The buying power of Indians has decreased,” claims Jehangir Iqbal Khokal whose stoles and suit pieces did not find too many takers.

    Folding a dressy cotton suit, Mohammed Salim from a neighbouring stall says that sales have not been too good. “People baulk at the prospect of paying more than Rs. 1,000 for cotton. They are oblivious to the amount of labour needed for work on the material itself.”

    For many of the exhibitors, the sales raked in at the fair are not as crucial as the materialisation of partnerships with Indian traders and sellers. A.N. Alim Ahmad, whose exquisite silk saris from Bangladesh are drawing interested buyers, says, “The partnerships that we had hoped for are not developing. We want Indians to sell our goods here. But the people on the Indian side want our goods on credit which we cannot agree to,” he says.

    I spend some time at the stall admiring the brilliant greens and fiery reds and golds that come to life on China silk and Bangla silk material. The saris don’t come cheap and start from Rs. 2,200. At another emporium, Afsaruddin, a salesman, is delighted to hear me speak Bengali. He exclaims: “Thank God someone speaks Bengali!” Jamdani silk and muslin have sold rapidly, I am told.

    Here too, the saris are exorbitantly priced. Afsaruddin claims that Bangladeshi women purchase saris worth Rs. 50,000 without batting an eyelid. “Here you tell the women that a sari costs Rs. 3,000, they baulk even if they have the money,” he says. Jute and silk saris are the main items of sale at the Bangladesh pavilion.

    I head to Hall number 18 which was hosting the exhibits of a number of other countries. The Turkey pavilion immediately beckoned me with its brilliantly coloured and bewitching lanterns and lamps in all possible hues and shades. The eyes and flashbulb were both extremely gratified. It was a pleasure to just stand there and muse on the warm lighting and note every glint and wink of the coloured lights. I trooped to the nearby Afghanistan pavilion where stall managers were kept busy with purchasers buying dry fruits in bulk. Mainly from Mazar-e-Sharif, the most lapped up items were anjeers, chilkot, dried mulberries, giant raisins and khurmanis. Saffron from Herat saw interested buyers but not much sale owing to the high rates. Qudratullah Rahmati of the Afghan Saffron Company said his sales had not been satisfactory owing to the proliferation of saffron stalls.

    The security cops, however, hung around the saffron stall demanding that saffron should be mixed with the water they were drinking!

    Learning experience

    More wandering took me to the carpet stall of Muhammad Hanif Rahim. This is Muhammad’s maiden participation in the IITF. For Muhammad, this experience has been about learning about Indian culture as much as it is about getting to know customer requirements. “Indians demand smaller carpets while Afghans buy much bigger ones,” he says. “Each room in an Afghan house must have a carpet.”

    The carpets which are made at Mazar-e-Sharif are priced at US$ 200 per square metre and created by local artisans in their homes. They are made of wool sourced from Australia and China.

    Does the instability in Afghanistan prevent them from doing work? “We find it difficult to sell Afghan goods to foreigners in Afghanistan,” answers Muhammad. This is because “foreigners don’t come to Afghan bazaars and stay in their bases. But the local demand is very good.” Mazar-e-Sharif, claims Muhammad is one of the safest places in Afghanistan. More stalls beckoned, but my tired feet stopped only once — to sample an Iranian date which was being offered to taste. I have never bitten into a softer or more tasteful date.

    Cover photo: Urvashi Sarkar

    Read the original article: https://www.thehindu.com/features/magazine/the-neighbourhood-bazaar/article2744455.ece

  • Delhi celebrates second anniversary of liberation

    Photo: Shanker Chakravarty

    Published in The Hindu. 3 July 2011

    It was an occasion to rejoice once again as members of the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender (LGBT) community and their supporters converged at Jantar Mantar here on Saturday to mark the second anniversary of the 2009 Delhi High Court judgment that struck down Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code and decriminalised sexual acts of adults in private.

    Relatively low-key compared with previous gatherings, the tone of the event was still celebratory as people donned colourful clothes, waved confetti and cheered and clapped. Many took to the makeshift stage and spoke stirringly about their experiences.

    Advertising executive Anand, who had come to the gathering with friends, said: “The judgment has at least resulted in increased discussion regarding issues of the LGBT community. While some positive changes have taken place since, obviously there is scope for a great deal of improvement in attitudes. The judgment is not a magic wand.”

    For Kali, a transvestite who has been regularly participating in the gay pride marches, the gathering was a moment of joy. For some, the gathering provided courage to articulate their sexuality. A 21-year-old boy wearing a colourful mask said: “Till last year, I did not dare attend such events. But now I have more courage and feel happier. I intend to come out to my family soon.”

    Also present at the event were the representatives of “Queer Campus,” a Delhi-based independent queer student and youth collective active since 2010. Queer Campus, which also has a Facebook page, screens films along with the Naz Foundation, a non-government organisation that works for sexual health.

    While general optimism was palpable among the people, most have an eye on the upcoming Supreme Court hearing on the matter.

    Rights activist Gautam Bhan said: “There is a lot of hope that the Supreme Court verdict will be in the right direction.” Speaking about the aim of the parade, he said: “There is a need to rekindle the hope in the possibility of change. Further, we want to highlight that this is very much an issue which matters to people and can still bring them on to the streets. This event is also a way of giving life to the verdict.”

    Regarding whether ground realities have changed following the judgment, Mr. Bhan said: “There are definite changes. Our relationship with the police has changed. There was no problem of police protection for this event as they recognise our legitimacy. The change is noticeable across companies and how people are treated with regard to jobs.”

    But ground still remains to be covered in terms of removal of discrimination at educational institutions, hospitals, workplaces, police stations and other State-run and private institutions.

    Read the original article: https://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-national/tp-newdelhi/delhi-celebrates-second-anniversary-of-liberation/article2155113.ece

  • “DU admission offer at Rs 80,000”

    Published in The Hindu. 24 June 2011

    Hoping to cash in on the eagerness of students to get admission in one of the coveted colleges on the North Campus of Delhi University, a strategically placed notice in the Arts Faculty premises states that students wanting admission on the North Campus should call a particular mobile number.

    The Arts Faculty is the venue for registration of Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes candidates for admissions and also for a couple of other courses and is packed with student aspirants many of whom have come from outside the Capital.

    A call to the number resulted in a bizarre conversation. A man calling himself ‘Sameer’ offered admission for B.A. Honours History in a leading college on the North Campus for Rs. 80,000 saying that the student’s name would appear in the “second or third cut-off list”.

    “Admission will be through the staff quota and sports quota. The money charged from the student will mainly go to “professors” and for making certificates for admission through the sports quota,” he said, claiming that all colleges accept donations.

    The man, who claims to be a student of M.A. in Political Science in the university, sounded brusque and businesslike but did not attempt coercion.

    “I will not force you in case you are not convinced. I already have the documents of 60 students. These documents include photocopies of Class X and Class XII mark sheets, an electricity bill for address proof and must be signed by the student’s parents. The originals are not needed,” he said.

    “These students are looking for admissions in St. Stephen’s College, Miranda House, Hans Raj College, Hindu College, Shri Ram College of Commerce and others. They are also seeking admissions in South Campus colleges such as Sri Venkateswara College, Zakir Husain College which can be arranged at a lesser cost.”

    Reasoning that cut-offs are going to rocket this admission season, ‘Sameer’ quoted a sum of Rs. 1,80,000 each for admission to two prestigious colleges on the North Campus.

    “The down payment is Rs. 15,000 and the rest can be paid after admission,” he said.

    When contacted, Dean of Students’ Welfare Prof. J. M. Khurana cautioned: “Students are advised not to fall into such traps. These are nothing but humbug. Moreover, the rules for staff quota admissions are very stringent. Only the wards of university teaching and non-teaching staff are eligible for admissions. Colleges individually decide the relaxation which is given to this quota and it is usually about one or two per cent in every course. The employees also have to submit a letter signed by the college Principal and Registrar stating they are university employees.”

    Read the original article: https://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-national/tp-newdelhi/du-admission-offer-at-rs-80000/article2075686.ece

  • When death came suddenly from the sky

    Photo: Shanker Chakravarty

    Published in The Hindu. 27 May 2011

    An impromptu decision to enjoy the cool night breeze on the terrace of their two-storey home cost the mother, sister and wife of young Deepak Sehrawat their lives when a small aircraft crashed into their house on a narrow by-lane of the densely-populated Parvatia Colony here on Wednesday night.

    Deepak, who is in his 20s, was outside the house with his sister’s young son, and his father was near the gate when the tragedy struck. They survived while their female relatives and all seven onboard the aircraft were killed. The aircraft was carrying to the capital a critically ill patient from Patna, along with medical professionals of the Apollo Hospital in Delhi.

    Deepak’s mother Vedvati was at neighbour Sunil Sharma’s house, minutes before the tragedy struck. “As there was no electricity, Vedvati said she was returning to her house to spend some time on the terrace, as the weather had all of a sudden turned windy. She, along with her daughter and daughter-in-law, had just reached the terrace when the aircraft crashed into their house,” said Sunil Sharma.

    A driver, Deepak had married Rani only in February this year. Eyewitnesses said around 10.30 p.m., they heard the roaring sound of an engine and wondered what the source was. Soon, some people saw a small aircraft hovering dangerously close to the buildings. “Our family was sleeping on the terrace when we heard the sound of an approaching aircraft. The plane crashed into our neighbours’ house in front of our very eyes and exploded into a ball of fire. It sounded as if two gas cylinders had exploded together,” said another neighbour Jitender Upadhyaya.

    The aircraft destroyed two houses.

    Parts of the terrace floor where the aircraft crashed had broken to form gaping holes, extending to the base of the house. The mangled remains of the aircraft’s glossy bright blue fuselage were perched on the broken terrace. Its interiors were ravaged by the fire. Twisted and jagged metal sheets and destroyed component parts were intermingled with the debris of the two broken houses.

    Neighbours and rescue personnel pitched in to douse the fire and extract the bodies from the debris. “The police took some time in coming. However, soon after they arrived, they were helped by the locals in extracting the bodies. Ambulances and fire tenders also arrived soon after,” said Sunil Sharma.

    Read the original article: https://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-national/when-death-came-suddenly-from-the-sky/article2052896.ece

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