Ismat versus the World

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December 11, 2015

BJP Government Purging Plurality and Diversity from Textbooks

My grandmother told me years ago that "Ismat apa", as she always called the illustrious writer, wrote lying flat on her stomach, in the middle of a room buzzing with people. My grandparents were part of the great current of people who contributed to and were carried along by the Progressive Writers' Movement in the 1940's. While my grandfather was directly involved in literary production, my grandmother's contributions were more tangential, and her observations rather pithy. She told me that she loved visiting Ismat apa's home near Shivaji Park in Mumbai, a far trek from where she lived in Andheri. The windows of this house were always wide open, she recalled, and its curtains billowed all day in the sea breeze. From these observations I formed my own image of Ismat Chughtai, a woman of formidable achievement who wrote in an accessible voice. In my mind, she is the writer who wrote no matter what, belly down on a chatai (mat) on the floor, thriving on the bustle of the household around her. The prolific writer was in the news recently, when the Rajasthan government decided to drop her stories from school textbooks. It also removed poems and short stories by the late theatre activist and writer Safdar Hashmi.

In her life, Chughtai was adept at offending people. Her work dealt with taboo themes and took readers into places that had never before been described. She wrote in the 'ghareloo zabaan': the turns of phrases and idioms of her busy household, the gossip of inner courtyards and women's quarters. I read her memoir Kaghazi Hai Pairahan (translated in English as A Life in Letters) as a college student. It was as transformative a text as other feminist tracts I encountered during those years, if not more so for the immediacy of its setting. Chughtai wrote in a style that was fearless, irreverent and often very funny. She began writing in the 1930s, but the story that defined her was Lihaaf (The Quilt), published in January 1942 in Adab-i-Latif, a literary magazine published from Lahore. The story earned her a court summons for obscenity, along with her friend Saadat Hasan Manto. They both chose to stand trial rather than apologize for their work, and eventually the cases were dropped.

Chughtai's canon includes works like her novel Terhi Lakeer (The Crooked Line) and stories like Masooma, Chauthi ka Joda (The Wedding Dress) and Ziddi (The Stubborn Girl). The latter was adapted into a film script directed by her husband Shahid Latif. The duo collaborated on a host of other films including Arzoo (1950). Chughtai also wrote the dialogues for the 1978 film Junoon in which she played the role of a grandmother. And Chauthi ka Joda formed part of the story for the Partition classic Garam Hawa (1973), directed by MS Sathyu.

The years of student life are made special by exploration, by tuning into the abundance and diversity of nations, voices and realities. All this would be denied to the young minds who read the purged textbooks.

In every way, Chughtai stood for progressive values for most of her life. She had to fight for an education, first from the iconic Isabella Thoburn College in Lucknow and then to gain a Teachers Training degree from Aligarh. She went on to write books that challenged parochialism and patrirachy and championed the cause of social justice. She wrote for all of India, and almost 25 years after her death, she stands as a proud symbol of India's syncretic values and her own compassionate humanity. So to weed her out of textbooks for schoolchildren is a self defeating move.

According to media reports, the reason for the removal of Chughtai and Hashmi's writings is that "they were were loaded with Urdu words…" and were "highlighting practices of a particular community." They are sought to be replaced by readings that promote "local cultural practices and beliefs". This runs counter to the idea of Indian plural culture, that takes pride in its diversity. It also fails to understand the entire culture of reading, and of exploring different worlds through words, ideas and books. As a young woman in Aligarh, where Chughtai set many of her stories, I devoured translations of Chekhov and Maupassant, besides the writings of PG Wodehouse and Agatha Christie. It is limiting to think that reading should be about your own life or what is familiar. The years of student life are made special by exploration, by tuning into the abundance and diversity of nations, voices and realities. All this would be denied to the young minds who read the purged textbooks.

It is both sad and ironic that Chughtai's works continue to fall foul of government diktats, decades after her trial by the British Crown, in the India of 2015. Perhaps the only sane response to this is what I imagine Ismat would have done: continue writing, in a room with the windows flung wide open, open to the breeze from all directions.

(The writer is a journalist based in Mumbai )

How the Right and the Left Are Getting San Bernardino Wrong

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December 11, 2015

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Image Courtesy: businessinsider.in

14 people are dead. 21 are injured.

A young couple armed for battle attacked a Christmas party full of the husband's colleagues. In the face of this nightmare — both the 355th mass shooting in 336 days in the United States, and one that came less than three weeks after the Paris attacks — right and left alike are sticking to their scripts rather than grappling with the complex reality. If we are to successfully prevent future massacres that have to change.

First and foremost, we have to think of the victims and their families.

And then we have to declare all-out war on the political ideology of Islamism that motivated Syed Farook and Tafsheen Malik, while simultaneously standing firm against all attempts to discriminate against Muslims generally. We have to disarm all potential terrorists by toughening up gun control laws and by discrediting the foul ideas that motivate them. (And we have to name those ideas without fear of being labeled politically incorrect.) The right and the left, more worried about their fight with each other than the fight against terrorism, have made this an either/or choice when it is both/and. We cannot succeed by only doing one of these things or the other.

The right rushed in almost immediately. Twitter was full of smears of all Muslims, President Obama, immigrants, etc. Ann Coulter tweeted: "it's been a 50 year invasion." "Where," shrieked Pamela Geller, "are the programs in mosques and madrassas teaching against jihad? NONE." Are there enough such programs and are they succeeding? No. But, as someone who has spent years traveling the world talking to Muslims, including clergy, who are challenging extremism, I know that this is simply a lie. As the icing on the cake, Marco Rubio now denies that there is any discrimination against Muslims in America.

The left meanwhile, as exemplified by the tepid statements of Democratic candidates — has only been willing to talk about gun control and has mostly refused to name a key part of the problem in this case — Muslim fundamentalism or Islamism, a virulent political ideology (which represents the far right of the Muslim political spectrum). That ideology today poses a global threat and is one that many (but not enough) people of Muslim heritage themselves have been fighting against all around the world for years. Hilary Clinton deems it insulting to say "radical Islam." Not saying it, when it represents a reality, is much worse.

The double standards have been stunning. On the right, people who denounced anyone who dared make a connection between the Colorado Planned Parenthood shooter and its own extreme anti-choice discourse were instantly linking the San Bernardino bloodbath to "Islamic" terrorism before there was any evidence other than that the first suspect had a foreign sounding name. On the left, the same people who had instantly (and correctly) recognized the politics of the Planned Parenthood shooting were reticent to admit any connection to terrorism here or to discuss the possible political motivation, even as thousands of rounds of ammunition were being found in the "IED factory" Farook and Malik had in their garage.

The soundtrack to all of this has been a diatribe from the Far Right in the West increasingly suggesting that all Muslims are members of one big sleeper cell and that there is something inherently wrong with this religion, and this religion only. Such views contravene basic tenets of humanism and decency. They also give a powerful weapon both to actual fundamentalists and those who apologize for them by suggesting that the extremists are just fighting an oppressive, imperialist West and defending Muslim interests. Making Muslims into victims, or making them feel like they are, plays into the hands of the fundamentalists who know just how to play that card.

While the Western Right sometimes advocates bigotry and international crimes — like killing the families of terrorists as Donald Trump appallingly suggests — in response to Muslim fundamentalist violence, the Western Left often refuses to recognize the reality of that violence and the actual danger posed by its underlying ideology.

We have to declare all-out war on the political ideology of Islamism that motivated Syed Farook and Tafsheen Malik, while simultaneously standing firm against all attempts to discriminate against Muslims generally.

They should listen to progressives of Muslim heritage whose words also belie the claims of the Gellers of the world. For example, Algerian anti-extremist activist Cherifa Kheddar, whose own brother and sister were killed by the Armed Islamic Group in 1996, clearly explains that you cannot end jihadist violence without "prioritizing the fight against fundamentalism which makes the bed of jihadism."

A similar point was made by a petition authored by Muslim journalist Mohamed Sifaoui and published last summer in the leftwing and secular French magazine Marianne that was signed by some 2000 people, mostly people of North African, Muslim heritage. "Islamism imposes a war on us and its principle weapon is terrorism, but Islamism also imposes on us a great ideological battle that we must face up to collectively."

In facing up to this very battle, President Obama got some things right in his Oval Office speech though he mainly pledged — somewhat incongruously — to continue the same strategy against a threat which has evolved, and emphasized what he would not do. However, he rightly reminded us that Muslim Americans are an integral part of the community. Discrimination is an unacceptable response to terror. Allowing terror suspects to arm themselves inside our borders is not a good idea. And at the same time he insisted that Muslims must confront extremism which is a grave threat and one that has, in fact, taken root in certain quarters, including here in the U.S..

What we need to do now — rather than giving a forum to self-appointed spokespeople like CAIR who have not led the fight against extremism — is listen to those who have actually been taking on this very struggle the President referenced. One of those brave people, Ani Zonneveld, the Malaysian American head of Muslims for Progressive Values based in Southern California, wrote to me the day after the San Bernardino slaughter. "You cannot be religious and go out and kill in Islam, and yet again we are witnessing murder in the name of our faith. The fact that guns are easily accessible and there have been more than 355 mass shootings in America to date should be irrelevant to our internal conversation. Our conversation should be why and what is it in our theology that has been so bastardized to give people permission to kill? Until we honestly root this out, we will by default be blamed."

To enable the "rooting out" Ani calls for, the right and the left need to focus on the actual problem and not on each other. They all need to carefully distinguish between Muslims, people of Muslim heritage and immigrants on the one hand, and Islamist extremists on the other. They must be tolerant toward the former who are key allies, and unwaveringly intolerant of the latter. As a necessary first step, they must speak the name of the problem: "Muslim fundamentalism."

The memory of the victims of San Bernardino, and of so many other recent terror attacks around the world, demands nothing less from us today.

(The author is a law professor at UC Davis, author of “Your Fatwa Does Not Apply Here: Untold Stories from the Fight Against Muslim Fundamentalism”; This article originally appeared on The Huffington Post http://www.huffingtonpost.com/karima-bennoune/how-the-right-and-the-lef_1_b_8739586.html?ir=India&adsSiteOverride=in (hyperlinked) on December 8, 2015)

Where is the news? Peaceful students protest faces police brutality in Delhi

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December 11, 2015

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If it bleeds, it doesn’t lead!

For those of us who rely on our Facebook friends and Twitter accounts on social media for our news, the only information of police brutality on protesting students at the #Occupy UGC protest march to Parliament on December 9, 2015 were the photographs of bleeding students, with swollen and bruised faces and bandaged heads, and the spray of water cannons.

Print and broadcast media, barring a few exceptions, decided the story wasn’t simply worth covering. Or, if it did, it was only in the context of traffic disruptions, as the Delhi edition of Hindustan Times (HT) decided on Dec 10, 2015!

On the same day, there was another vigorous protest by youth from Manipur but, curiously, HT decided the news wasn’t worth covering, except in a passing mention in a ‘crime’ report on a stabbing attack on one of the organisers of the protest!

Clearly, there was no attempt to join the dots or even find out if there was anything more to the attack.
The Delhi edition of The Times of India on the same day, that is December 10, decided a photo-story on page 4 would suffice, with a picture of the police beating up students and a caption that also provided the police with its exit option: that the students were throwing stones at the police!

Of course, as this video shows, there isn’t a single stone on the very clean streets of Janpath and nor can one spot a single stone thrower!

What one sees, quite clearly, was a very spirited, but peaceful, march that managed to break one cordon quite easily and effortlessly. When the students proceeded ahead and neared the second cordon, a police vehicle and presumably also, police from the first cordon, which allowed themselves to be pushed aside, begin to close in. And beat up the ambushed students from behind! The police particularly targeted women protestors, shoving their lathis between their thighs and groping them even when they were in the three buses they (the police) deployed to take the students to the police station.

It was only this this report by Rahul M, an independent journalist, in The Caravan that gives us a comprehensive account of what actually transpired and why the students were agitating. For the media, the student’ protest over privatization of higher education and the shift in the state’s commitment to universities as centres of higher learning to the WTO-mandated ‘commercial’ ventures are not stories worth giving attention to.

This government has clearly decided to ignore the anger of students across the country – whether over the opaque appointment procedures that enabled the saffronisation in the FTII, Pune, the protest over the scrapping of, and subsequent changes in eligibility criteria of the non-NET research fellowships, the ban on the Ambedkar-Periyar Study Circle in IIT-Madras or the curbs on the beef festival in Osmania University, the sexual harassment in Jadavpur University, suicides of dalit students in the IITs, discrimination against dalit students in other premier institutes, And, if the media follows suit, what does one make of its agenda?

(This writer is a senior and independent journalist. She spoke to some of the protestors at the Parliament Street Police station where the students had been detained after the march)

Lal Salaam Comrade Vidrohi!

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December 11, 2015

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Tears, laughter, poetry, music – this was how his beloved JNU students and his daughter bade goodbye to the rebel poet – Vidrohi.

He died as he had lived – surrounded by students out on a protest march.

When I came to JNU today to bid Vidrohi farewell, there were hundreds of students and JNU alumni from several generations around, their eyes brimming, throats choked. A friend who came up to exchange a comforting hug said, “It just feels like he’ll appear somewhere in this crowd, any minute.”
No protest – whether it was a sedate public meeting, a dharna at Jantar Mantar or a ding-dong battle with the cops – was imaginable in JNU or in Delhi, without Vidrohi’s presence and his gravelly voice, reciting poetry or responding to slogans or telling the cops some home truths spiked with an earthy curse or two.

His poetry was like a flowing river – rushing fast, and yet with a controlled power. In fact, as some of us told each other today, Vidrohi’s life displayed discipline only in two areas: he would never, ever, miss a protest; and he crafted his poetry with as much care and control as any poet ever did.
He was thoroughly irreverent, ready to cut down to size every form of power – be it the State, priests, or the gods, or death itself. This is what he said about his own death:

I’ll die
and so would the Dispensers of India's Destiny
but I want that
the Rulers of the Minds of All People* drop dead first
then the Dispensers of India's Destiny*
then the uncle of Sadhu and other local worthies
In short let all the big guns go
before I depart quietly and peacefully
when spring brings first flush in the mango trees
and fills maize with its milk
else when the mahua tree starts dripping
or when the wild jasmine blooms
On the riverbank the flames leap
from my funeral pyre spreading a certain charm
and my buddies make light of the occasion
oh what a mighty poet was our friend Vidrohi
he ensured the departure of all the big guns
before bowing out.

© Translated by Asad Zaidi

Vidrohi did not take himself very seriously – but he took poetry very seriously. He asked JNU students to take care of his needs – as a matter of right. ‘I’m your poet, protect me,’ he said. He chose never to write down his poetry – he declaimed it in the characteristic tone of his native Sultanpur. Vidrohi was fiercely attached to revolutionary politics – and he knew that people could not sup on slogans and speeches alone; they needed poetry as they needed food. That’s what drew him to every protest, where without fail, he would recite his poetry.

Women peopled Vidrohi’s poetry as they do Eduardo Galeano’s prose – he saw the world, its history and geography through the eyes of his foremothers and his daughter.
I think, and can’t stop thinking,
What, after all, is the reason
That a woman’s burnt corpse
And scattered human bones lie
At the threshold of every ancient civilization

Hearing his daughter speak of her father at JNU today, I recalled his words:

I would have killed myself
Near that woman’s burnt corpse
If I didn’t have a daughter …
But that daughter,
She says
Papa why do you get emotional
About us girls? It’s futile,
We girls are logs
To be laid out on the stove when were grown.

At marriages, I’ve heard women sing songs about Sita’s wedding. Fathers give away daughters, quoting from the Ramayana ‘Here is Sita my daughter, henceforth your companion; take her hand in yours.’ I’ve heard the songs sung by the women of Mithila too, asking their fathers to get them any husband, anyone at all, but not one like Rama. Sita’s story spoke to Vidrohi too:

And a dead prince
Becomes the son-in-law of the whole country –
Who legally
Is given the licence to barter away Sitas.
Sitas are tied to white beards
And in the scriptures,
Grasses get pregnant.


Violence against women, in Vidrohi’s poetry, took on a domestic, pedestrian character – it was an everyday family affair, as it is in real life:

The first murder of a woman in history,
Was committed by a son on his father’s orders.
Jamadagni said O Parashuram!
I say to you kill your mother –
And Parashuram did so.
And just like that, the son became the father’s
And patriarchy came into being.

His poem, ‘Women’ was a comment on how the records and the courts tend to belie the truth of gendered violence.

Some women
Of their own will
Drowned themselves in wells –
That’s lodged in the police records.
And some women
Burnt themselves in the funeral pyre –
That’s written in the scriptures.
I‘m a poet
…
One day I’ll summon
Both police and priest together
In the women’s court
And abolish all the courts in between…
Abolish also the claims
That the gentlemen
Have presented against the women and children.

…I’ll bring alive
Those women who drowned in wells and burnt on pyres
And once again record their testimonies
To make sure nothing is left out
Nothing is forgotten
Because I know of that woman
Who cramped her seven-span body
In her one-span yard all her life
And never once even peered outside.
And when she did come out
It wasn’t a woman but her corpse that came out,
That spread everywhere in the open
Like Mother Earth.
A woman’s corpse is like Mother Earth
My friends –
That spreads everywhere
From the police stations to the courtrooms.

I think of Bastar and Muzaffarnagar and Bathani Tola and Shopian when I hear Vidrohi’s voice say:

I see that
All evidence of oppression is being erased.
The priest with his sandal-smeared forehead,
The soldier whose chests swell with weapons
All say praise the King.

I’ve seen the eyes of women from the Delhi slums and villages of Bihar and UP attending dharnas in Delhi, light up when they heard Vidrohi recite his poems: he looked as though he were confiding in them, and they in him.

Vidrohi’s poem ‘Noor Miyan’ is an ode to a lost era of innocence and harmony. His grandmother, he recalls, counted on Noor Miyan’s surma to keep her eyes young as a girl’s. But Noor Miyan went away to Pakistan, when the country was torn by the Partition, and the grandson wonders how it is that Noor Miyan had ‘no one left here.’ ‘Were we no one? Were we not his people?’ he wonders. And when he commits his grandmother’s ashes to the river, he likes to think:
the river’s not a river but
my grandmother’s eyes
and the ashes aren’t ashes but Noor Miyan’s surma
that I’m applying once more in my grandmother’s eyes.

And that poem, so personal and intimate, speaks to us all. Right at the beginning Vidrohiji says, “Today you may use ‘Victoria’ brand kajal or ‘Sadhvi Rithambara’ brand anjan, but the real thing, that only Noor Miyan could make.” That deft reference to the market of communal hatred puts into poignant perspective the memory of the trust that lived between his grandmother and Noor Miyan.

I was amused today to read, among many insightful tributes to Vidrohi, one piece by a student who read in Vidrohi’s ragged appearance, a story of supposed neglect by the JNU community. I smiled, though, because that author did recount how Vidrohi told him off sharply for his patronizing manner and his attempts at ‘charity.’ Vidrohi felt anything but neglected or betrayed by JNU students – he demanded all that he needed from JNU students as his right. Woe betide anyone who failed to recognize that and tried to pity or patronize him – they would get the abrasive end of his tongue for sure! Ever since I knew him (in the mid-1990s) he always had a home in the JNUSU office. The JNU authorities waged a losing battle to evict him from the campus – but without fail, the students would ensure he was back. His irreverence and anger were directed at rulers, at institutions, at oppressors. Students, especially Left activists, were always his comrades, his chosen and lifelong companions.

On a Facebook page on Vidrohi, run by students, I was amused to read a January 2013 post that said, “Seeing Vidrohi walk barefoot in the bitter cold, a Palestinian student Shadi asked him, “Where have your shoes gone?’ Vidrohi replied, ‘In that last protest, I took them off and flung them at the cops!” That was Vidrohi!

Vidrohiji, the tears in hundreds of youthful eyes today, and the slogans of all those young voices of students, including some I met from Hyderabad and Kolkata and Uttarakhand who had only heard of you today, are the best tribute to you. You’ll always be found in your usual haunts – around the rocks and trees and dhabas of JNU and the JNUSU office. And above all, you’ll always be found among the protesters, the rebels. Today, you too were among the students who, having bade you goodbye, were beaten black and blue by the police at Parliament Street.

Education is for All, keep out WTO-GATS

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December 10, 2015

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Hundreds of students, teachers and educational rights activists from different organisations and groups in Delhi and outside assembled on the 4rth day of All India Resistance Camp Against Committing Higher Education to WTO at Jantar Mantar, New Delhi organised by AIFRTE (All India Forum for Right To Education). Eminent intellectuals, academicians and activists from across the country including Prof G Hargopal, Prof. Anil Sadgopal, Prof. Nandita Narain, Prof Anand Teltumbde, Dr Sukumar, Dr Nikhil Jain, Sri Ramesh Patnaik, Prof. Joga Singh Virk, Prof. Saraswat, Prof. Sanat Kar, Sri Surjit Thokchom, Prof. Manoranjan Mohanty, Com. Kuldeep, Prof. O K Yadav, Prof Abha Dev Habib, Sri Pankaj Pushkar, Prof C Sadashiva, Prof Viraj Kafle, Prof Panditaradhya, Com Sivaram, Com Jahangir Aman, Prof Ashok Mukherjee, Com Shatru Ghosh, Com Jyoti Bhushan, Com Ramesh Bijekar, Com Manoj Kumar, Prof Zhatsoe Humtsoe, Sri Pankaj Tyagi, Com Firoz, Com Daman addressed the gathering mobilised by member- and fraternal-organisations of AIFRTE.

The public meet deliberated on the impact of WTO-GATS onslaught on diversity of the country and social justice agenda of the Constitution. It was highlighted by the speakers that once higher education is opened for global trade under WTO regime, whatever gains have been made by the dalit, backward, adivasi and minority communities will be washed away as public-funded system will be dismantled in interests of corporate houses and global capital. Already the public higher education system is reeling under budget cuts. It was pointed out that the agenda of reservations, scholarships and fee concessions for the backward communities would be withdrawn. In addition, the rich diversity of the country will find no place in the academic universe as our institutions will be downgraded with uniform and homogenous curriculum to fit in the needs of global markets.

The Resistance Camp was enlivened by the stirring cultural performances including poetry recital and revolutionary songs sung by several groups from Delhi and outside. A Hindi book on onslaught of WTO on education was also released on the occasion.
The Resistance Camp which started on 7^th Dec will continue till 14^th December. Krantikari Yuva Sangathan (KYS) will mobilize its activists and general public tomorrow.
With Greetings,

Ahmadis under fresh attack, Pakistan

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December 10, 2015

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Image for representation purpose only

In the continuing attacks on the Ahmadi community in Pakistan, Najeeb Ahmed, peshimam (presiding cleric) of the Sarai Alamgir mosque was punished by unknown assailants with sharp shaving blades in Gujrat district, Punjab province. Three days ago, on December 1, 2015, just as Najeeb Ahmed entered his house, he was pounced upon, his clothes were removed and his upper body was attacked with shaving blades. His cries caused his attackers to then run away. So far no security has been provided to him nor has any action been taken against any assailants. Reports say that he has so far not been provided with any medical treatment.

Recent weeks have shown an acceleration of violence against Ahmadis especially after the burning of an Ahmadi owned chipboard factory. An Ahmadi mosque in Kala Gujram, not far from the factory, has also been targeted, where attackers burned copies of the Quran. The local police and other authorities reportedly failed to control or disperse the crowd allowing destruction of the properties of the Ahmadis. Contrarily, there have been arrests of a senior member of the Ahmadi Community in Jhelum. "I begged the mob for the life of my wife and children, and they freed them only after attempting to burn (them?) in the factory's boiler”, states Asif Shezad, an Ahmadi who survived a lynching attempt, and was quoted in a statement by the Asian Human Rights Commission. The mob attack followed the usual pattern. An allegation of blasphemy aroused a mob to set the Jhelum chipboard factory on fire on November 20, 2015. The 2000 strong mob also burnt down the owner’s residence adjoining the factory. Instead of controlling the charged mob and the arsonists, the police arrested three Ahmadis on the local cleric’s allegation that they had burnt the holy Quran. The very next day an Ahmadi mosque adjacent to the factory was ransacked. Shezad and his family have since gone into hiding, fearing for their lives.

In another incident, the owner of a spectacles shop was arrested along with his employee on blasphemy charges for selling Ahmadi literature. The shop was situated at Chanab Nagar (former Rabwa, the centre of the Ahmadi community). Although Mr. Abdul Shakoor does not sell anything apart from eye glasses, the local administration ordered his arrest merely on the complaint of an anti-Ahmadi organisation.

Pakistan’s controversial blasphemy law does not clearly define blasphemy but says the offence is punishable by death. Anyone can thus file a blasphemy case claiming their religious feelings are injured for any reason. The accused are often lynched, and lawyers and judges defending or acquitting them have been attacked. Blasphemy laws are increasingly being used to seize money or property.

Since its inception, Pakistan has been battling a religious existential fight with itself. A country attained in the name of religion is yet to establish the definition of a Muslim. The judiciary often also appears complacent and meek in the face religious fundamentalism and orthodox clergy who are bent on enforcing and implementing the firebrand version of Wahabbism (a religious movement to restore Islam to its original form). While minorities in general are persecuted and beleaguered, the Ahmadi community suffers the brunt of the country’s religious discrimination and hatred. In the course of 2015, the Ahmadiyyas suffered severe curbs on their right to freedom of speech and to practise and propagate their religious belief, as well as the deaths of many innocent Ahmadis targeted by religious zealots.

Since its inception, Pakistan has been battling a religious existential fight with itself. A country attained in the name of religion is yet to establish the definition of a Muslim.

On 20 October 2015, 37-year-old Ikramullah was killed in broad daylight by four assailants who opened fire at him and later fled the scene. Ikramullah was in the pharmacy that he owned when four gunmen on motorbikes stormed the store and opened fire. Ikramullah was shot several times and one of the bullets went through his skull. Earlier that month, three members of the Ahmadicommunity survived a gun attack in Karachi.

Anti-Ahmadiyya literature is continuously being published and distributed, endangering the lives of community members. Several Anti-Ahmadiyya conferences were held in Lahore during 2015, where the speakers—many belonging to the ruling party—incited people against the community. In one such conference held on 11 September 2015 at Mughalpura, Lahore, the attendees declared Ahmadis to be rebels of the religion and the country, demanded their removal from important posts, and the banning of products manufactured by Ahmadi companies.

Ahmadis have been arrested in Pakistan for reading the Holy Quran, holding religious celebrations and having Quranic verses on rings or wedding cards, and even for using Islamic greetings. They suffer incessant discrimination in procuring ID cards, passports, and even educational certificates. Many Ahmadis avoid using their right to vote as they must declare themselves non Muslim Ahmadiyya, making themselves vulnerable to physical attacks and socio-economic boycott.

Years of institutionalized discrimination against the Ahmadicommunity and its persistent vilification have led to extreme apathy, where even the mass murder of Ahmadis in Lahore on May 28, 2010 failed to elicit any kind of public outrage. The blood of Ahmadis, Christians, Shias or Hindus, is not the same as Sunni blood; the bloodletting of these groups is acceptable and tolerated as a remote event that does not affect the majority.

The religious intolerance spawning in Pakistan has created a major fault line in the moral and social fabric of the society. If this inaction and apathy on the part of the state and society continues, the time is not far when the country will fall into civil strife and anarchy.

As attacks against Ahmadis and other minorities grows, the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan (HRCP) has expressed alarm and opposition over Pakistan voting last week against a United Nations General Assembly resolution that called for recognising the role of human rights defenders (HRDs) and the need for their protection. In a statement issued recently, the Commission said: “HRCP welcomes the passing of the UN General Assembly resolution, titled ‘Recognizing the role of human rights defenders and the need for their protection’, by 117 votes on November 25. It is unfortunate that the resolution had to be put to vote this year and could not be adopted by consensus as had been the norm in the past” At the same time, HRCP must express alarm and great disappointment that Pakistan chose to be one of the 14 nations that voted against the resolution. It is ominous that all 14 countries opposing the resolution are from the Afro-Asian region, as is the predominant majority of the 40 states that abstained from voting. The HRDs in the region work in such perilous circumstances that the hope was for the states to be more enthusiastic about protecting them and facilitating their work. It seems that the rights’defenders are going to have a rough time in Asia and Africa in the coming days.While regretting Pakistan’s decision to oppose the resolution, the civil society is entitled to ask what rights’ defenders have done to deserve this step-motherly treatment. It is unfortunate that the government wishes to see civil society as an adversary. The civil society cannot, and must not, surrender its role as a watchdog for people’s rights because that constitutes an entitlement, by virtue of citizens’ social contract with the state, and not a concession. “HRCP also stresses people’s right to know through an explanation in parliament the reason why the government chose to deny the need for protection for HRDs, who include, besides human rights groups, journalists, lawyers, political and social activists.”

Art Speaks : From Togetherness comes Greatness

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December 10, 2015

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As the idea of a unified, secular India appears to be giving way to a divided and polarized one, the art of the past sends a special message: that India’s greatest artistic achievements arise out of inclusiveness, not division. Painters, musicians, dancers, writers, poets, textile-makers, builders, metal and stone workers, jewelers, cooks and other creative individuals have knitted India together over centuries, creating a fabric that reflects a blending of faiths and regions, and many foreign influences.

Here are five masterpieces of the Mughal period to reflect upon. In doing so, lets ask the question:

Do we prefer the inspiring vision of India they provide, and celebrate the cosmopolitan reality that produced these treasures, or do we accept the intolerant and provincial alternative that is unfolding?

The claim that India is a monolithic culture, as reflected in some imagined past, is belied by centuries of artistic production. The Mughal period brought together talented artists from all regions and religions together to create extraordinary works of art. In their time these works of art provided pride, pleasure and education to their viewers. It is hoped that they will do so again here.

Krishna lifting Mount Govardhan
Illustration to the Harivamsa, Mughal school, around 1585

In 1574 the Mughal emperor Akbar (reigned 1556-1605) created a bureau of Records and Translation at Fatehpur Sikri. The aim was to translate important texts, including Hindu epics, into Persian and to illustrate them in the royal workshops. In order to accomplish this task, scholarly Mullahs and Pandits collaborated over a period of several years as Sanskrit texts were reborn in Persian – the Mahabharata became the Razmnama; the Vishnu Purana and Kathasaritsagara were translated; and four illustrated versions of the Ramayana were made – three for different members of the Mughal royal family and one for a Rajput ally.

For the artists at the Mughal court (which included Muslims, Hindus, Europeans and women painters) illustrating these manuscripts posed a special challenge because this was an almost entirely new type of imagery. For example, there is no surviving evidence that the Ramayana was illustrated in manuscript form before the 16^th century, so many of these paintings are innovations of the Mughal period.

One masterpiece from the Harivamsa depicts Krishna lifting Mount Govardhan to protect the villagers of Braj from the wrath of Indra (see illustration). At the very center of the painting stands the blue god, executed in the naturalistic Mughal style, but also bearing his attributes of blue skin, vanmala and peacock crown. The mountain above is painted as a mass of stylized rocks, derived from Persian, and ultimately Chinese, painting, and is filled with plants, birds and animals. Clustered below are the villagers of Braj, along with a trio of Mughal courtiers. Among the old men, sadhus, young boys, and women, one female figure on the right is loosely based upon a European print image of the Madonna. Of equal interest is the group of cows in the foreground that are painted with great sensitivity and individualization. While temple sculpture of the period tends to show Krishna using his little finger to lift the mountain, in this painting he performs the miraculous act with the flat of his palm. This small but significant detail shows that the unknown artist was in line with the earliest iconography of this subject, such as in the relief carvings at Mahaballipuram (7^th century AD). The miracle of this and other such works of its kind reflect a simple fact – that Muslim patronage was a vital key to the development of Hindu religious painting.

Meeting of a Muslim and Hindu pilgrim
Folio from the Khamsa of Amir Khusrao Dehlavi,
Mughal school, late 16^th century, by Basawan

The verses of the 13^th century Sufi poet Amir Khusrao were illustrated in the late 16^th century at the Mughal court. Among the exceptional artists involved in the project was the master Basawan, who is one of the talents named by Abu’lFazl in his famous chronicle, the ‘Ain-iAkbari. Here Basawan has depicted a tale where a Muslim pilgrim meets a Hindu Brahmin. He asks the Brahmin why he is crawling on the ground who replies that he has turned his heart into a foot and travels upon it in devotion to his deity.

The Muslim pilgrim is so impressed by this show of piety that he removes his own shoes to continue barefoot on his way. Basawan was one of the first Mughal artists to be deeply interested in the European styles of shading, modeling and volume, techniques which can be seen in this painting. The inscriptions visible on the page are by the hand of another Mughal master – the calligrapher Muhammad Husain Kashmiri, whom Akbar titled ‘Zarin Qalam’ or Golden Pen, for his beautiful handwriting.

So we see again a coming-together between Muslim and Hindu on every level, from patron to writer and artist to calligrapher to have made this work possible. How appropriate, especially for a story that essentially is a metaphor for the meeting of Islam and Hinduism in the subcontinent.

Bhairavi Devi worshipped by Shiva
Mughal school, around 1630; Attributed to Payag

The tradition of illustrating Hindu subject matter at the Mughal court continued through the 17th century and from the period of Shah Jahan (reigned 1628-58) another great painting survives, attributed to the Mughal master Payag in about 1630 (see illustration). The subject is the fearsome Devi Bhairavi, shown here in a cremation ground, with Shiva appearing as an ash-covered devotee. Seven funeral pyres burn around, and jackals edge close while the ground is filled with human bones and corpses. The devotee expels a fiery breath, possibly to indicate a mantra, while the goddess herself spews blood, wears skulls, and also varieties of Mughal-style jewelry.

Remarkable for its conceptual depth and iconographical sophistication, close study of the painting has revealed that Payag relied in part on 17^th century European images of the Crucifixion to create the scattered bones in the landscape, and also to create the naturalistic modeling of the figures. The image of the Devi herself may have evolved from an early Mughal illustrated Devi Mahatmya series, although here the rich detail of the iconography is unprecedented. This painting was likely made for Shah Jahan as a gift for the Hindu ruler of Mewar, to which collection it later went and where it got its visible Devanagari inscriptions. This particular goddess is among the rarest images of the Hindu pantheon, yet has emerged in full force at the Mughal court.

Kalamkari tent panel for Mirza Raja Jai Singh of Amber
Probably Burhanpur, 1665 or earlier

The beautiful flower at the center of this kalamkari tent panel of the late 17^th century is an imagined plant, as demonstrated by the different blossoms and leaves which grow out of the same stalk (see illustration). This sense of fantasy and imagination is a hallmark of the Deccan schools of art, which flourished under the patronage of the Sultans of the Deccan courts of Bijapur, Golconda, Ahmadnagar, Bidar and Berar. But they were not the only rulers who patronized the great painters and textile dyers of the region. The Mughal and Rajput nobles, perched in the northern Deccan from the early 17^th century in their bid to conquer the region, also employed kalamkari textiles as clothing, furnishing and tent panels, such as this example. This panel was once part of a tent made for Mirza Raja Jai Singh of Amber (reigned 1622-67). His Rajput kingdom, along with many others, was part of the extended Mughal empire. This composite, multi-cultural and multi-faith alliance was poised, under the command of emperor Aurangzeb, to conquer another, equally diverse group of Muslim kingdoms in Deccan India, which they succeeded in doing by 1687.

The styles of art of this period speak of this mix of Mughals, Rajputs and Deccanis. Here the flower is shown beneath a cusped arch with Chinese-inspired clouds in the sky. The idea of such ornamental flowers took shape in the Mughal world where by about 1640 such motifs were found all over architecture and decorative objects, including in the Deccan and Rajasthan. Not only did Mirza Raja Jai Singh purchase such kalamkaris (as indicated by the Amber toshakhana inventory notes on it and on many examples in Jaipur) but his memorial in the Deccan where he died is executed in the same Mughal inspired aesthetic that we see in this piece. The language of ornament and artistic styles was thus shared across communities, and stands in marked contrasts with the prejudices and preferences being expressed today.

Aurangzeb on a Palanquin in the Deccan
Mughal School, about 1700, byBhavanidas

The Mughal emperor Aurangzeb (reigned 1658-1707) spent the last twenty-five or so years of his life in the northern Deccan, bent upon conquering the Muslim sultanates of the region. He finally succeeded, but he was already an old man by the time he did. This painting by the Hindu artist Bhavanidas portrays him on a palanquin in an open landscape with a royal army in the distance (see illustration). The dramatic hills in the background indicate that the setting is the Deccan, which has a distinctive rocky terrain in some areas. The emperor himself sits on a palanquin which is carried by attendants and also noblemen.

Paying homage to him are noble figures among them probably his son and successor, Bahadur Shah I and his grandson. In the very front of the painting we see preparations for a shikar or royal hunt, with a party of huntsmen dressed in green. While the painting contains visible ink inscriptions in Persian giving the name of the painter Bhavanidas, the artist has also hidden his signature (also written in Persian) in a tiny gold inscription in the green ground, as was often done by Mughal artists.

This important work shows the production of painting in the late Aurangzeb period – one of the most distorted and misrepresented periods of Indian history today. It also demonstrates that the mature style of the period had evolved to encompass historical subjects, observation of daily life, the imperial image, and human portraiture, all of which can be seen here. Bhavanidas continued working in the Mughal atelier until 1719, after which he moved to the Rajput kingdom of Kishangarh and became its premier artist. The famous development of bhakti themed paintings at that court would not have been possible without the Mughal input from artists such as him.

Thus the creative energy of art emerges from the combination of forces, not their separation – a profoundly important message that is deliberately being forgotten today. The political obsession with a singular identity based on an assumed idea of purity rests on a falsehood about India’s historical past. The world has witnessed such impulses before and the effects have been devastating. In India’s case, the loss would be nothing less than the obliteration of its multifaceted and rich culture and history, to be replaced by a fictive distortion of what India was and ought to be. It is hoped that these masterpieces from the past inspire us to remember where India’s greatness lies.

(The author is a historian of Indian and Islamic art. This article is available in five Indian languages with links to high-resolution images of the works of art in on-line versions of the piece)

‘मैं जिंदा हूँ और गा रहा हूं.’ – ‘विद्रोही’

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December 9, 2015

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(जनकवि रमाशंकर 'विद्रोही' को जन संस्कृति मंच की श्रद्धांजलि)

कल ८ दिसंबर, २०१५ को शाम ४.३० के करीब जनकवि रमाशंकर 'विद्रोही' ने दिल्ली में अंतिम साँसें लीं. विद्रोही ने अपनों के बीच, आन्दोलन के मोर्चे पर अंतिम साँसे लीं. जैसा वे जिए, वैसा ही मरे. जैसे कोई मध्यकालीन संत शताब्दियाँ पार करके आधुनिक सभ्यता के जंगलों में आ निकले, उसकी सारी विडंबनाएं और चोटें झेलते, वैसे ही फक्कड़, मलंग बना फिरे, अपनी मातृभाषा में हमारे आज के समय के सबद और अभंग जोड़ते हमारे बीच से गुज़र जाए. कविता उनकी जीविका नहीं, ज़िंदगी थी और जन-आन्दोलन और मार्क्सवादी जीवन-दृष्टि उसकी सबसे पौष्टिक खुराक. कविता में वे बतियाते हैं, रोते और गाते हैं, खुद को और सबको संबोधित करते है, चिंतन करते हैं, भाषण देते हैं, बौराते हैं, गलियाते हैं, संकल्प लेते हैं. ”कविता क्या है?” जैसे सनातन विषय पर विद्रोही के विचार देखें-

”कविता क्या है
खेती है
कवि के बेटा-बेटी है
बाप का सूद है, मां की रोटी है।”
ऐसी कविता और ऐसी ज़िंदगी अक्सर उस सीमान्त पर विचरण करती हैं जहां मौत हाथ मिलाने के फासले पर होती है. जो दुनिया उन्हें मिली, उसमें जीने की 'शर्म की सी शर्त' उन्होंने नामंजूर कर दी. अपनी कविताओं में अलग दुनिया बनाई. उन्होंने अपने भौतिक अस्तित्व की रक्षा के लिए किसी से कोई गुहार नहीं लगाई. अपने लोगों से उनकी अपेक्षा यही थी कि वे अपने कवि को बचाएं –
”…तुम वे सारे लोग मिलकर मुझे बचाओ-
जिसके खून के गारे से
पिरामिड बने, मीनारें बनीं, दीवारें बनीं,
क्योंकि मुझको बचाना उस औरत को बचाना है,
जिसकी लाश मोहनजोदड़ो के तालाब की आखिरी सीढ़ी पर
पड़ी है।
मुझको बचाना उन इंसानों को बचाना है,
जिनकी हड्डियां तालाब में बिखरी पड़ी हैं ।
मुझको बचाना अपने पुरखों को बचाना है,
मुझको बचाना अपने बच्चों को बचाना है,
तुम मुझे बचाओ!
मैं तुम्हारा कवि हूं। ”

और यह कवि बचा रहेगा, उन लोगों के बीच जिन्हें उसने जान से ज़्यादा प्यार किया है और जिनसे उसने खुद को बचाए रखने की उम्मीद की है. विद्रोही में पितृसत्ता-धर्मसत्ता और राजसत्ता के हर छ्द्म, हर पाखण्ड के खिलाफ अपरम्पार गुस्सा, तीखी घृणा है. प्राचीन और समकालीन मिथकों का कविता में रचा उनका पाठ हर उस शोषक , हर उस आततायी को तिलमिला देगा जिसे अपनी बदमाशियों को छिपाने के लिए संस्कृति की पोशाक चाहिए. विद्रोही ने कलजुगहे मजूर की आत्मा में प्रवेश किया और उसकी चाहतों का ऐसा अपूर्व विप्लवी, अछोर संसार रचा जो पूरी हिन्दी कविता में अनन्य है, जिसे यहाँ मैं पूरा ही उद्धृत कर रहा हूँ-

” जनि जनिहा मनइया जजीर मांगात
ई कलिजुगहा मजूर पूरी सीर मांगात
बीड़ी-पान मांगात
सिगरेट मांगात
कॉफ़ी-चाय मांगात
कप-प्लेट मांगात
नमकीन मांगात
आमलेट मांगात
कि पसिनवा के बाबू आपन रेट मांगात
ई भरुकवा की जगहा गिलास मांगात
औ पतरवा के बदले थार मांगात
पूरा माल मांगात
मलिकाना मांगात
बाबू हमसे पूछा ता ठकुराना मांगात
दूधे -दहिए के बरे अहिराना मांगात
दुलहिनी के बरे बरसाना मांगात
आलू-भांटा बरे बोड़री के चक मांगात
अंचारे बरे लखनी के बाग मांगात
बिहारै बरे पूरा वृन्दावन मांगात
गोड़ धोवै बरे राजा गंगासागर मांगात
अंचावै बरे पूरा जगन्नाथ मांगात
गंगा-जमुना मांगात सरस्वती मांगात
तौ सौवै बरे जनक के बगीचा मांगात
दरी मांगै, गद्दा मांगै औ गलीचा मांगात
अपने बिटुआ के अंजोरिया का बच्चा मांगात
और बियाहे बरे राजा अंगरक्खा मांगात
औ बराते बरे बाजा अलगोजा मांगात
न ता धोखी मांगात ऽ ऽ न ता धोखा मांगात
न ता ओझा मांगात ऽ ऽ न ता सोखा मांगात
सोझा-साझा ई मनइया शासन सोझा मांगात
न इनाम मांगात ऽ ऽ न इकराम मांगात
न कउनो भीख मांगात, न अनुदान मांगात
न गऊदान मांगात ऽ ऽ न रतिदान मांगात
ई सड़किया के बीचे खुलेआम मांगात
मांगे बहुतै सकारे, सरे शाम मांगात
आधी रतियौ के मांगे, आपन दाम मांगात
ई तो खाय बरे घोंघवा के खीर मांगात
दुलहिनिया के द्रोपदी के चीर मांगात
औ नचावै बरे बानर महावीर मांगात
न ता साधू मांगात ऽ ऽ न फकीर मांगात
ना ई तोहरी तिरथिया के नीर मांगात
ई अपनी मइया बहिनिया से बीर मांगात
जनि जनिहा मनइया जगीर मांगात
ई कलिजुगहा मजूर पूरी सीर मांगात ऽ ऽ जनि जनिहा मनइया जगीर मांगात

विद्रोही की कविता के हलवाहे, चरवाहे, केवट, कहार, दलित, मजदूर, किसान, औरतें, बच्चे जितना अपनी यातनाओं, उतना ही अपने सपनों के साथ आते हैं. वे तमाम पंडे, पुरोहितों, मुल्ला, मौलवियों, महाजनों, ज़मीदारों, पूंजीपतियों, साम्राज्यवादियों से अपने भविष्य को लेकर ही नहीं लड़ते, बल्कि अपहृत अतीत का भी हिसाब माँगते हैं. विद्रोही की कविताएँ सबसे ज़्यादा यही लोग समझेंगे. विद्रोही हमारे अपवंचित राष्ट्र के कवि हैं, उन लोगों के कवि हैं जिन्हें अभी राष्ट्र बनना है. लेकिन विद्रोही के विकट व्यक्तित्व को दुनियाबी व्याकरण से समझना मुश्किल है. जिन्होंने उन्हें दुनिया से बेखबर बाउल गानेवालों की तरह अकेले में डूब कर गाते देखा है, खुद से बातें करते देखा है, भीतर के किसी श्मशान के प्रेतों से लड़ते-झगड़ते देखा है, वे विद्रोही की उस अलग, अगम और निराली दुनिया का सिर्फ बाहरी आभास पा सके हैं जिसमें प्रवेश करना शायद किसी के लिए भी आसान न था.

रमाशंकर यादव 'विद्रोही' का जन्म ३ दिसंबर, १९५७ को ऐरी फिरोजपुर ( जिला सुल्तानपुर) में श्री रामनारायण यादव व श्रीमती करमा देवी के घर हुआ. बचपन में ही शांतिदेवी से विवाह हो गया. शान्ति जी पढ़ती थीं और वे भैंसे चराते थे. गाँव में चर्चा होती कि रमाशंकर की पत्नी उन जैसे अनपढ़ को छोड़ देगी. इसी भय से विद्रोही शिक्षा के प्रति प्रेरित हुए. प्रारम्भिक शिक्षा गाँव के स्कूल में हुई , फिर सरस्वती इंटर कालेज, उमरी से इंटर पास किया और राज डिग्री कालेज, बनवारीपुर, सुलतानपुर से बी.ए. किया. एल.एल. बी. की पढ़ाई धनाभाव के चलते पूरी नहीं कर पाए. नौकरी की, लेकिन नौकरी ज़्यादा दिन उन्हें बांध नहीं पाई. १९८० में दिल्ली के जवाहरलाल नेहरू विश्विद्यालय में हिन्दी से एम. ए. करने आ गए. १९८३ के छात्र आन्दोलन में बढ़ चढ़ कर हिस्सा लेने के चलते कैंपस से निकल दिए गए. १९८५ में उनपर मुक़दमा चला. तबसे उन्होंने आन्दोलन की राह से पीछे पलटकर नहीं देखा. वाम राजनीति और संस्कृतिप्रेमी छात्रों की कई पीढियों ने विद्रोही को उनकी ही शर्तों पर स्वीकार और प्यार किया है और विद्रोही छात्रों के हर न्यायपूर्ण आंदोलन में उनके साथ तख्ती उठाए, नारे लगाते, कविताएं सुनाते, सड़क पर मार्च करते रहे, यहाँ तक कि कल तक जब उन्होंने आखिरी साँसें लीं. जे़ एन. यू. में रहने के चलते विद्रोही की आवाज़ दिल्ली की सडकों पर, बैरिकेडों और पुलिस पिकेटों के सामने तमाम तरह के लोकतांत्रिक जुलूसों, प्रदर्शनों के समय दशकों तक गूंजती रही है. जन संस्कृति मंच के राष्ट्रीय पार्षद वे २००८ के राष्ट्रीय सम्मलेन में बने जो कवि धूमिल के गाँव खेवली में हुआ था. उसके बाद से दिल्ली के बाहर भी उत्तर प्रदेश, बिहार, छत्तीसगढ आदि तमाम जगहों पर आयोजनों और आन्दोलनों में बुलाए जाते. विद्रोही कविता लिखते नहीं , कहते थे. उनकी खडी बोली की काफी कवितायेँ मित्रों ने लिपिबद्ध कीं जो 'नयी खेती' संग्रह में छपीं. कचोट इस बात की है कि उनकी ढेरों अवधी रचनाएं रिकार्ड नहीं की जा सकीं. एक स्मृति सदा के लिए खो गयी.

याद आता है कि गोरख पाण्डेय के गाँव जाते हुए कैसे बच्चों जैसी जिज्ञासा से भरे और उत्फुल्ल थे. आन्दोलनों और प्रतिवाद सभाओं के दौरान कविता सुनाकर बच्चों की तरह उनका खुश होना, उसे अपना एकमात्र तमगा और पुरस्कार बताना याद आता है. याद आता है पटना के गांधी मैदान के निकटवर्ती चौराहे पर उनके कविता-पाठ के दौरान रिक्शेवालों, खोमचेवालों और मजूरों का स्वतःस्फूर्त जुटना और ताली बजाना. विद्रोही जहां जाते, हाथों हाथ लिए जाते. बाहर के लोग भी उन्हें उतना ही प्यार करते जितना उन्हें जे.एन.यू. के छात्रों से हासिल हुआ था. जे. एन.यू. में नबारूण दा के काव्यपाठ के कार्यक्रम के बारे में सुधीर सुमन ने ११ दिसंबर, २०११ को मुझे विस्तृत मेल लिखा जिसका एक अंश नबारूण और विद्रोही की भेंट के बारे में था. दुर्ग में दोनों की मुलाक़ात हो चुकी थी. सुधीर ने लिखा, " जेएनयू के कार्यक्रम से बाहर निकलते वक्त जिस गर्मजोशी और प्यार से नबारूण दा छात्रों और जनता के प्यारे कवि विद्रोही से गले मिले, वह मेरी चेतना में एक बेहद सुकूनदेह अहसास की तरह दर्ज हो गया, जैसे बेचैन दिल को करार आ गया। पूरे देश में, खासकर हिंदी पट्टी में विद्रोही को जनता प्यार करती है, छात्रों के बीच वे बेहद लोकप्रिय हैं। उन्हें अपने लिए कोई कोई फंड, कोई पुरस्कार, सरकारों की कोई नजरे-इनायत नहीं चाहिए, उनके कवि को किसी साहित्यिक प्रोमोटर की जरूरत नहीं है….. आंदोलनकारियों और सामान्य जनता के बीच वे मशहूर हैं…., मैंने मन ही मन नबारूण दा को सलाम किया कि उन्होंने जनता के कवि को सम्मान दिया.., शायद यही जनता के क्रांतिकारी कवि की असली पहचान है।" आज दोनों हमारे बीच नहीं हैं. क्या सचमुच वे हमारे बीच नहीं हैं? विद्रोही इसे नहीं मानते. यकीन न हो तो उनकी ही एक कविता के इस अंश से आपको तसल्ली हो जाएगी-

"मरने को चे ग्वेरा भी मर गए
और चंद्रशेखर भी
लेकिन वास्तव में कोई नहीं मरा है
सब जिंदा हैं
जब मैं जिंदा हूँ
इस अकाल में
मुझे क्या कम मारा गया है
इस कलिकाल में
अनेकों बार मुझे मारा गया है
अनेकों बार घोषित किया गया है
राष्ट्रीय अखबारों में पत्रिकाओं में
कथाओं में, कहानियों में
कि विद्रोही मर गया।
तो क्या मैं सचमुच मर गया!
नहीं मैं जिंदा हूँ
और गा रहा हूं…… "

( प्रणय कृष्ण, महासचिव, जन संस्कृति मंच द्वारा जारी)

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‘मैं जिंदा हूँ और गा रहा हूं.’ – ‘विद्रोही’

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