Audacity of hope

The ruthless sacking of employees across the media sector reveals the signs of ominous, black clouds engulfing freedom and courage of millions of journalists. Take for instance, the overnight slashing of around 650 employees and four eminent editors across esteemed publications and websites owned by a rich business baron. This treatment was meted out to people who served the companies loyally for years, worked like dogs and didn’t complain even when the group’s fortune dived and there were no increments or promotions.

The reason- management says- cost cutting- cut the excess flab- free market economy- hire and fire policy. To top it all- there is also a need to increase the profit margin- it has to soar and soar like a vulture till it swoops down and sucks blood out of common human beings. It doesn’t matter whether the bunch of journalists are left philandering in a market crippled by economic woes and plunging rupee, with no fresh recruitment or opportunities whatsoever. Instead of showing empathy to the rest of the lot in the organisation, the editors are now strictly instructed to threaten them with more job losses until they become completely docile and submissive. And with hardly any union presence, they are left with no choice but connive at everything and carry on with their daily drudgery.

Moreover, journalists don’t want to protest lest their next job prospects are hurt by it. The entire industry is slowly devoured by a big shark.  It is crippled by vested political and economic interests of media owners and leading journalists. And we dare not write about these issues.

Perhaps, we can avoid this state of beings by establishing more independent and autonomous private bodies for alternative journalism run by strong editors.  These organisation should become a sort of platform and legal ground for fair diversity and competition among the private outlets. There should be more equitable distribution of wealth, more concern for the well-being of journalists working for their passions. It should be less about cut-throat competition, ego-wars. People outside should have the right to know what they want without any interference from commercial interests. The organisations should be more liberal and progressive in their outlook. We also need to form unions to voice our opinions without fear.

Meghna Maiti

Break all barriers; break all boundaries

Meghna Maiti

Mumbai

“Imagine all the people, living life in peace, you may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one……”- John Lennon

Long after the days of idealists and activists such as Lennon, Rabindranath Tagore, we still imagine and entertain visions of liberation, democracy, peace, progressivism. The world might have changed to a great extent by now, but it is still quite the same when it comes to these ideals. Hence, freedom and liberation has remained elusive concepts and wishful thinking. 

We especially realise this when we see all around us painted, tainted fascist zombies, waiting in queues for the next deal which would make them richer, saner and firmer. Most of us like our daily lives to be governed by set of rules- discipline is the keyword- life has to be governed by the hands of clock. There is no sense of democracy anywhere- we are not allowed to speak unless we get permission from a supreme authority. And in most cases a higher authority lets rules do all the talking. Most of the time vested interests are de-stabilising the expression of people’s choice. We are increasingly becoming afraid to speak out, to live freely, to be happier. We feel our convictions challenged by phobias, different viewpoints. 

We do not want to venture into unfamiliar territory and unknown lands. And slowly and undoubtedly, we are heading towards a paralysed world. Then what would happen to our much-cherished dreams of progressivism, liberalism, enlightenment? How do we express ourselves freely if we are constantly monitored, attacked and threatened? 

A day has to come when we gain enough strength to break all barriers, boundaries and just fly infinitely, endlessly. We should have purer, unconditional relationships. We could become as spontaneous as a sea-mermaid and as timeless as the vast Arabian sea. Individuals should get ahead rather than rules. And then with the yarns of light we will spin tales of freedom. Slowly, we will become untouched by temporary defeats, failures, success. We will listen to our own voices and slain the devils coming our way. 

ENDS

A Pure Life

A Pure Life

“So help me god it gets more and more preposterous, it corresponds less and less to what I remember and what I expect as if the force of life were centrifugal and threw one further and further away from one’s purest memories and ambition….” – John Cheever- The death of Justima

In Somerset Maugham’s “The Moon and Sixpence”, Charles Strickland- the protagonist- stockbroker turned painter who pursues his true calling from the age of thirty-six, reveals a strength of character that borders on the inhuman- a sense of being possessed by a demon. While his betrayal of family, duty and honour gives him the freedom to achieve greatness, his decision leads to an obsession which carries severe implications. On his single-minded pursuit of liberation, there is no space for any kind of distraction apart from some comic reliefs in the form of alcohol, women (what else?).

Sometimes when I shut my eyes, I think of the genius painter- Paul Gaugin- on whom the character of Strickland is based. I see him, with my mind’s eyes, on his rocking chair in  his small bungalow in Tahiti island, away from the eyes of humanity, wearing nothing but a pareo; going down to the reef to catch small, coloured fish that Ata, his wife would fry in coconut oil; I see him going for long walks, painting and reading in the evening; and at night, when the simple, rural folks of the faraway village sleep away peacefully in their humble huts, when the intensity of the silence is as deep as forbidden love, I see him clearly with Maugham’s eyes- dancing to some divine, wild tune, in ecstacy, under the blue sky, the starry night and the Pacific Ocean.

My idea of a pure life also comes from the vision of a primitive existence- peaceful, away from the malice and hostility of common, urban folks- in close association with nature- a life of utmost conviction in an idea led by deepest instinct- a sense of intense fulfillment.

How difficult it is to stay rooted in our most unpretentious dreams, not to be swayed by the diluting waves of civilization? How do we get the courage of spirit to go where we should ideally be? How much longer and when?

Meghna Maiti

ENDS

Dance Bar girls

MEGHNA MAITI

Mumbai

Ominous red neon lights, mysterious tunnel, nasty stares above the overflowing beer bottles- strange music from looming speakers and even stranger dance movements of the bar girls, like a ritual dance around a crowd in which even a mighty will turns vulnerable. The view of the constantly passing dance women by their rupee-flashing clients grows so magical that it cannot hold anything else. It seems to be there beyond everything; and behind the bars; creating a different world.

One might expect such an illicit world in Amstardam, Pattaya or Los Angeles. But this time it’s Mumbai- the dimly lit masti hubs that were shut down by the state government. Almost a decade later, to be more precise- eight years, the Mumbai dance bars are mounting a comeback, the Supreme Court announced on Tuesday. The court upheld an earlier Bombay High Court order that allowed dance bars to reapply for licences.

Industry experts say the dance bars revival is largely tied to the soaring popularity of Mumbai night life and employment of women as dancers, waitresses and singers. “Mumbai night life had lost its lustre because of moral policing. This move had also come in the way of tourism in the city. The permission for re-opening would make way for may other colourful aspects of Mumbai night life,” Kamlesh Barot, past president of Hotel and Restaurant Association of India (western India) told Financial Chronicle.

The government of Maharashtra in 2005 banned performances in dance bars, mainly watering holes and taverns where owners pay dancers. The Association of Dance Bar Owners, the Bharatiya Bargirls Union and The Indian Hotel and Restaurants Association were among those who challenged the state government’s ban in 2005. The state government said there were 307 licensed dance bars in Mumbai with around 4,300 women employees. 

"This was an example of government's hypocrisy, and the Supreme Court has proven that. Has anyone cared about those girls who lost their jobs?" Manjit Singh, president of the Mumbai Bar Owners Association, told CNN-IBN news channel.

In Mumbai, night life had shifted to small pubs, discotheques and one-off rave parties, illegal spaces, according to industry experts. “This would help all those women who have lost their livelihood. It will definitely bring in more international tourists,” said Dinesh Naik, restaurant and banquet manager of Fern Meluha Residency, a Mumbai-headquartered hotel.

Following the top court’s ruling Tuesday, restaurants and bars will have to apply for new licenses before they restart dance performances, Veena Thadhani, a lawyer for the Indian Hotel and Restaurant Association told Wall Street Journal.

meghnamaiti@mydigitalfc.com

ENDS

Early Morning

This morning I woke up to looming blueness of the Mumbai night sky that was slowly paving way to a clear, rain-soaked day with blurring boundaries. The first hour of the dawn appeared like a cicada against the evolving sky- filled with a whiff of fresh desire. A sharp spell of overnight rain slowed to slight drizzle around the orange glow of the streetlamp. I could hear the patter of cold rain on the corrugated sun-shade of my window; the swish of an empty, polythene bag on the wide, wet road; the cawing of a drenched crow on the telephone wire as it tumbled out of it and streaked against the grey sky.

The soaked cat laid swelling on the pavement beside the drain. Water ran freely through man holes on the tarred road, the symphony of navigating water through a dozen channels merged with a sound of a stray dog urinating onto the corners.

Behind the surreal cobweb, the buildings looked abandoned, something melancholic about their streaked windows. The limping beggar squinted against the grime and dangled his muddy bare feet from the cemented staircase across the museum. An old man waded through water and leaned against the lamp-post with a cup of tea, all eager to settle the dust of his life when the rain trickled in.

The hissing and hooting of tiny, wild creatures seemed like a giant whisper. The tall gulmohar trees lining the street looked as bright and effervescent as newly-wed brides. The entire area turned a soothing green. The wildness of the entire wide, deep Mumbai universe spread out wild feelings- memories unbounded by wild memories like dark, cavernous clouds. It swooped down suddenly into my mind space. And just as easily broke the existing chasm between time, space dimension to let a deluge of memories flow through.

Meghna Maiti

 ENDS

Rupee

Newsmaker: Rupee

Meghna Maiti

In the last three months, rupee’s depreciation has grown to the point where the Indian currency seems like a dark, sinister force like a muddled-up mind in a sound body. “Muddled-up” implies people following a path that appears like a wide boulevard strewn with silver roses – a sort of future mainly driven by illusion- the way volatility of rupee has become in the lives of common people. Perhaps even more so, the rupee has come to seem like a potent, disruptive force, a confusing phenomena; rupee fall is to the common man what greed is to nature. When common men say they have been hit hard by the rupee fall- they are at this point indicating not just a temporary phenomena but an entire way of being in an increasingly uncertain world: a fear for unmet basic needs; fear for unmet not-so-basic desires; fear for man-made disasters and to top it all- fear for survival- the quest for the ever-growing doubts- how to survive and at what cost.

Our beloved national symbol is plumbing new lows in an economy heavily dependent on imports for the goods Indians can't do without namely gold and petroleum products such as petrol, diesel, kerosene and gas. The rupee has depreciated nearly 12 per cent since the beginning of the fiscal year in April 2013 and reached an all-time low of 60.73 against the US dollar on June 26, 2013. Between April 2011 and April 2013, the rupee lost nearly one-third of its value versus the US dollar. It is the biggest loser apparently among currencies worldwide. While its making overseas travel expensive, it is increasing costs for students studying overseas and making those working abroad unsure as to whether they should send money to India now or wait for further depreciation. It has also been increasing costs of fast moving consumer goods such as soaps, detergents, deodorants and shampoos, of which crude oil is a component.

The depreciation of rupee has had an impact on the automobile sector. While the input costs of imported components have risen, the companies have to pay high royalty to the parent firms. Similarly, electronic consumer goods such as mobile phones, computers, and television have become costlier. Food chains are also facing an impact on their profitability.

However, even in the wake of such crisis as rupee continues to slide against dollar, it has found a way to keep its name, meaning something remarkably unique and pure. It has sort of retained a tightly controlled, evocative sense of magic and mystery over its image with the power over humankind to hypnotize, agitate and liberate. Industry experts say the majority of the people do not blame rupee or its usage for its problem. They blame others- including the dollar on a horse ride, recession in the euro zone, bleak fundamental outlook, no balance at balance of payments.

Finally, the value of a currency is the proof of the efficiency and reliability of the government that issued it. To quote John Maynard Keynes- “"By a continuing process of inflation, governments can confiscate, secretly and unobserved, an important part of the wealth of their citizens. By this method, they not only confiscate, but they confiscate arbitrarily; and, while the process impoverishes many, it actually enriches some. The sight of this arbitrary rearrangement of riches strikes not only at security, but at confidence in the equity of the existing distribution of wealth.”

meghnamaiti@mydigitalfc.com

ENDS

I am the Self

Down when the shadows of doubt cloud my sulky being, I look at the infinity pool thinking it’s the Arabian ocean. It is at that very moment truth reveals itself in surrogacy and life itself seems on precipice. I try to realise my innermost feelings and my earthly presence. I realise I am a part of my physical self, the solid, well-defined presence that can be neglected but not denied. This part of my being becomes like a ship to sail through the material world; as a temple to house a greater truth lurking within.

Body is a part of existence endowed with ego, whereas sub-conscious and super-conscious minds are dreams, knowledge. The body is all-seeking matrix of beta cells producing insulin, making us bittersweet. 

My physical realm is like a super-sensitive presence, much like the moon — full of vitality and life-force energy. The body in itself can make heaven of hell, hell of heaven. It often symbolises a rhythmic, familiar litany of expressive appearances. It seems to represent the psycho-emotional cadence of generations. It has strong emotional attachment to my parents, ancestors, power of movement and Martian energy. It seeks constant movement, physical vitality and a unique identity.

And yet when I peer deeper into the truth, I realise that there is a greater person at the core. I understand that part of me is beyond time, space and objects. It is intangible, infinite and giver of absolute happiness. It does not know any sorrow. It is as knowledgeable as god and all pervading. Only when I can connect with this greater presence I feel most alive. In claiming ownership of my free soul, I live my truth. The greatest tragedy in life is rejection of this grand person within us.

So I have realised — I may not be anybody. I may not even be successful when measured by human yardsticks. I may be a recluse, a fool and a ideal dreamer. But I am much more than all that. I am the Self.

Meghna Maiti