Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Re-telecast of Ela Bhatt's interview, DD national, 17 december, 7:30pm

Interview with Ela Bhatt
Doordarshan National television channel will re-telecast an interview with Ela Bhatt, Gandhian thinker and founder of SEWA on 17 December at 7:30 pm (indian standard time)
This interview was conducted by me, several months ago.
Your comments would be most welcome.
Thanks,
Sagari Chhabra

Monday, September 16, 2013

'Hunger - Our Responsibilities'

You are cordially invited to a programme,
'Hunger - Our Responsibilities'
on 17 September. 7pm,
at India Habitat Centre, (Gulmohar Hall) Lodi Road, New Delhi.

The programme will start with a screening of a documentary film,
'Hunger In The Time Of Plenty' (30 minutes) written and directed by Sagari Chhabra.
This will be followed by an interactive discussion with speakers;
Harsh Mander (activist)
Prof Reetika Khera (academic)
Sagari Chhabra.
The audience is invited to give concrete suggestions to end hunger.

Sunday, September 15, 2013

A Walk with the Moon and the Sun

A Walk With The Moon And The Sun

- for children everywhere

Last night I could not get a wink of sleep,

So I slid out, from under my sheet,

And went for a walk

in the park nearby.

I saw the full moon up

in the sky so high,

I could swear it followed me,

Like a balloon without a string,

A luminous lollipop,

A most amazing thing.

I found the squirrels asleep,

So were the deer,

There was the occasional hoot

of the owl, just near,

But the birds were asleep

Under their wing,

Except for the night sounds

Of the crickets,

No one did sing.

But the moon shined its luminous glow,

And I just moved on, so.

I walked across the temple,

All was quiet;

No bells clanged,

No chants filled the air;

And the moon shed its moonlight

Over all the pilgrims

Who slept over there.

Then across the corner

Was an old mosque,

And as I stepped on the cool, mosaic floor,

I saw the moon watching

High above the arched door.

It was bestowing its benign light

To all those who slept within,

It was such a cool and peaceful sight

And a gentle breeze

Blew in the night.

I moved along to the gurudwara

Where the Sikhs lay asleep,

By their sacred book,

And to each the moon

Gave a gentle, peaceful look.

It shed light on the kirpan that glittered,

And went on its way, to the

Path that was littered,

With garbage and refuse.

It saw the poor in their shacks

And blessed them a peaceful night of rest,

For ahead was a heavy work-load

In the days that lay abreast.

Then in the very same sky,

He went behind a cloud edged with lace,

And I saw emerging

A blushing, bridal pink face.

I saw the early morning sun

Give its rays to everyone,

Including the smallest leaf

And the tallest tree,

It gave its energy and its light, so free.

To big and small,

Tall and strong,

Rich and poor,

Without differentiating

Between anyone at all.

It was universal love;

And I saw the sun

Climb, higher and higher,

And I heard the screech of tyres

As people rushed to work

They broke out into a sweat,

No one knew he was bestowing his energy,

Without breaking for a single breath.

Just everyone got his light

And I knew before the night,

He would have bestowed

To all his radiance;

And in the approaching twilight,

The birds hummed to a cadence.

I just knew,

Like the moon and the sun,

I was born to give,

To love, to serve,

And be a friend

To every single one,

Before my day was done. Sagari Chhabra

7th september 2013

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Ela Bhatt in conversation with Sagari Chhabra, DD National channel, 4:30pm, 4 september, '13

Special!
Please watch my interview with Ela Bhatt, the founder member of SEWA ( Self Employed Women's Association) . A gandhian and an amazing woman who built an organisation of 1.5 million women - vegetable vendors, rag pickers and other poor women.
The interview is today, 4 September, 2013, on Doordarshan National channel, at 4.30 pm.
The interview is bilingual, that is, it is in Hindi and English.
Look forward to your comments.
Thanks,
Sagari Chhabra

Sunday, August 4, 2013

'Emergency Retold' by Kuldip Nayar

Kuldip Nayar’s ‘EMERGENCY RETOLD’

A review by Sagari Chhabra

'Emergency Retold' is a new edition of a book on the Emergency by the distinguished journalist and human rights activist, Kuldip Nayar. The book published by Konark Publications was released on 26th June, the 38th anniversary of the Emergency, to an audience of journalists, authors and democratic rights activists at India International Centre.

Kuldip Nayar was arrested under MISA (Maintenance Of Internal Security Act) kept in Tihar jail, and only released on a writ of habeous corpus filed by his family. He then toured the country and kept an account of the darkest chapter of India's democratic life. The book is a valuable document of the times and is an account by a prisoner of conscience of what actually happened. Nayar asks in his new preface, how does one explain the emergency imposed in 1975, to a new generation? It does not know what it meant. He goes on to write, "More than one lakh opposition leaders and critics were detained without trial. The cabinet gave post-facto sanction. The power came to constitute in the then Prime Minister, Indira Gandhi and her son, Sanjay Gandhi, an extra-constitutional authority’.He also writes that the institutions never got back their original vigour and sanctity. In other words the very idea of India was derailed.

In the book, Nayar recounts how the Emergency came about and freely takes names in his characteristic, courageous, signature style. He recalls Justice Sinha of the Allahabad High Court had ruled Indira Gandhi guilty on the count of two corrupt practices during her election. After this she responded to the advice of Sidhartha Shankar Ray, the Chief Minister of West Bengal and her younger son, Sanjay, who did not hold any constitutional position nor any position within the party and was infact involved with the setting up of the Maruti car factory. Nayar writes “a vague plan for 'doing something' to silence the press and opponents of Mrs Gandhi had not only acquired a firm shape but also achieved constitutional sanction. 'Internal emergency' was the cloak a lawyer had found for an action planned with dictatorial motives". Secrecy was paramount, no one had an inkling as to what was being planned, as the opposition was busy preparing for the 25 June rally to be addressed by Jayaprakash Narain, popularly known as JP. Nayar details that “Sidhartha Shankar Ray and Mrs Gandhi drove to Rashtrapati Bhavan four hours before the deadline.... The President understood the implications quickly. He was also once a practising lawyer... He did not think of demurring. He was indebted to Mrs Gandhi for elevating him to the highest position in the country." After returning from Rashtrapati Bhavan, Mrs Gandhi decided on a cabinet meeting at 6am, by now she knew that the arrests of JP, Morarji Desai and several hundreds were going according to the plan. On the morning of 26 June, censorship was imposed on all press writings related to the internal situation. All messages had to be sent to the government for scrutiny. Nayar records that after the mass arrests, there was almost no resistance and if there were any, they were 'tackled'. A few leaders like George Fernandes, and Subramaniam Swami, Jana Sangh members, went underground. Vidya Charan Shukla who took over from I.K Gujral as Minister of Information and Broadcasting, reported that the censorship machinery was quickly getting into gear. Indira Gandhi thought that the Parliament would certainly endorse the Emergency, thus refurbishing her international image; so she convened it on 21 July 1975. She also asked that the question hour be given up. The book has extracts of some of the leaders who spoke up against the Emergency: Ak Gopalan (CPIM), Mohan Dharia (Congress-I expelled), Era Sezhiyan, P.G Mavlankar, and S.A Shamim. The CPI (Communist Party of India) gave full support to Mrs Gandhi, with Indrajit Gupta even stating that the proclamation of Emergency was justified and everybody supported it.

In Tihar jail alone, which at that time could house only 1200 persons, the jail overflowed with more than 4000 people. However, a few newspapers like the Indian Express tried to stand up against censorship. The paper's proprietor, Ram Nath Goenka was threatened that his son and daughter-in-law would be interned under MISA and his chain of papers auctioned, if he did not acquiesce. The Statesman was punished for not publishing a sufficient number of photographs of Mrs Gandhi on the front page and was asked to submit all page proofs to the censors for approval. The pages would be cleared late, delaying the printing of the paper. Sanjay Gandhi was behind the demolition and razing of several slums including the demolition of the Turkman Gate locality, which was met by resistance. Later, a forcible sterilisation campaign - 'nasbandi' also went into over-drive, aided by 'a glamorous lady' Rukhsana Sultana who considered Sanjay Gandhi, a ‘god’.

Emergency Retold’ also details the torture of Lawrence Fernandes who was picked up from his house in Bangalore, to find the whereabouts of his brother, George Fernandes. The book records his testimony. “They were ten policemen and they started giving me the works. Four lathis broke, one after the other as they directed blows to all parts of my body. I was writhing in pain on the floor...” Snehalata Reddy an actress, was also arrested, and later released, she died.

Shanti Bhushan argued before the Supreme Court that the right to personal liberty, was not a gift of the Constitution but a fundamental concept of democracy, which could not be suspended even by the Emergency. However, the Supreme Court ruled that in view of the president's order of 27 June 1975, no person had any locus standi to move any writ petition to challenge the legality of a detention order and that the order amending MISA, to remove the requirement that a detenu must be informed the reason for his detention, was constitutionally valid. However, Justice H.R Khanna in his minority ruling declared that no authority could suspend the high courts power to issue writs of habeous corpus. Even in times of emergency the state had no power to deprive a person of his life and liberty. But this was a minority voice. The majority, Justices Ray, Beg, Chandrachud and Bhagwati supported the order.

The book ends with the announcement of elections, obviously Indira Gandhi assumed her party would win and the historic defeat at the elections of 1977. The rest is history, but the real heroes were the people of India! Kuldip Nayar’s ' Emergency Retold' is a fearless account, which only Nayar, himself a prisoner of conscience, could write. It is a must for all libraries and should adorn the book -shelves of all people who love freedom and wish to know of a time when our civil liberties were summarily taken away. The book should become part of the curriculum of all universities in south asia, but the publishers have done a disservice, by releasing a historic volume with so many typographical errors and mistakes, which a careful editor or even a proof-reader could easily have corrected.

Monday, July 15, 2013

'Good Evening India' show with Sagari chhabra on Doordarshan National television, 16 july 2013

Doordarshan National will interview Sagari Chhabra on 16 July 2013, at 5pm (Indian Standard Time) for its show, 'Good Evening India'. The show will be an interview with the writer, film-maker and social activist and will contain clips of her award-winning films along with a short reading of her creative work - plays and poetry. The programme will be in both English and Hindi. Please do switch on the television and feedback would be deeply appreciated.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Deluged - The Idea of India? - sagari chhabra

DELUGED – THE IDEA OF INDIA?

As the tragedy unfolds in Uttarakhand with the death toll mounting, thousands injured and dispossessed, I have been wondering if the very idea of India, is under deluge? Was India just a nation state created, by the rulers of an island in Europe, that enacted a mindless act of Partition, and displaced millions? Or was India a geographical and cultural concept that grew along the banks of the river Indus, with our ancestors being called Sindhus. It is along the river that a certain way of life; ‘arth, dharm, kaam, moksha’ played out. The chaar dhams: Yamunotri, Gangotri, Badrinath and Kedarnath are contiguous with a way of life that is intrinsically spiritual. Till the advent of globalisation, under the effect of which we are still reeling, millions of Indians lived in voluntary simplicity; which was to consume only what is needed and to practice ahimsa by regarding all life - animals, plants, trees and mountains as sentient beings. This is the moral and ethical basis of the Shanti Path – ‘Antarikshum shanti, prithvi shanti, …’ It is this all embracing compassion that enabled Jews to settle here, while they were persecuted elsewhere, and the so called ‘outsider’ being embraced in a composite and syncretic culture, called India.

As a traveller to Hardwar, Rishikesh, Uttarkashi and Gangotri, I have witnessed with silent horror the damming of the sacred river Ganga. It is in this river, that millions bathe to wash away their sins and float the ashes of their loved ones. To divert the course of this river by envisaging several dams, is to court disaster, for ecologically the Himalayas are in an ecologically fragile zone; but it is around the river that a whole spiritual way of life has played out for centuries. Today with a click of a mouse everything is up for sale. Foreign direct investment is courted and tunnels are blasted diverting the course of the river, while huge hotels come up along the banks. While attention is being paid to Uttarakhand as the tragedy unfolds, let us know what is happening elsewhere along the Himalayan range.

Last week I was visiting Dharamshala, by the Dauladhar range of mountains. Dharamshala, is the seat of His Holiness, the Dalai Lama who has kept six million Tibetans non-violent as China stole their permanent address.. This in itself is an exercise in beauty, restraint and self-discipline. The Tibetans have show-cased their culture at the Library of Tibetan Works and Archives. The museum has exquisite pieces of work rescued from Tibet and the library offers courses in Buddhist philosophy. Up in Mcloidganj however, masses of tourists in large SUV cars over-run pedestrians and the mountain is being blasted to make room for hotels. The fact that India gave refuge to the Dalai Lama and the Tibetans is yet another example of our compassionate, secular and plural culture. It is the idea of India that the Tibetans can live peacefully, practice their religion, indeed flourish as they remain persecuted in neighbouring China. We need to preserve that idea and treasure our forests and mountains as sentient beings. I am haunted by Gandhi’s statement in Hind Swaraj, ‘I bear no enmity towards the English, but I do towards their civilisation’. In the twenty -first century as the western model of development has been proven to conclusively lead to climate change, we in India, seem to be following that model slavishly. We need to remember that the idea of India was swaraj; ‘swa’ meaning self. It is that sense of self that has been nurtured for centuries and is now under deluge.

Sagari Chhabra (‘Deluged – the idea of India?’ published 26 june 2013, The Hindustan Times, edit page, 12)

Sunday, June 9, 2013

'THE GIFT' - extracts of a play by sagari chhabra

'the gift' on the nuclear issue, is waiting to be performed. those interested in doing so, may kindly write to me!

MAINSTREAM, VOL LI, NO 23, MAY 25, 2013

The Gift

Sagari Chhabra

This month marks the fifteenth anniversary of the Pokhran II nuclear explosions. On this occasion we are carrying the following excerpts from the play that appeared in Indian Literature (Sahitya Akademi’s Bi-monthly Journal), September-October 2011. These are being published with due acknowledgement and the playwright’s permission.
Synopsis of the First Act of The Gift
The play is set in a capital city. The Minister of Defence announces, ‘The Buddha is Smiling’ at a press conference. In his speech he likens Pokhran to the famous salt march led by Mahatma Gandhi. When Saleem questions the logic, ‘by making salt Gandhi was asking the British to quit India,’ the minister responds, ‘the making of radio-active soil signals we are a super-power...’. The news is received with applause by everyone present except Ananya, an activist, her boyfriend Saleem, and Kuldip, a journalist of the old guard. A tribal who has been displaced is informed that his village is now a Special Economic Zone under the Land Acquisition Act. Khan the scientist who achieved this ‘indigenous feat’ is feted. The Minister meanwhile, is having a clandestine affair with Kamia, the wife of Secretary of Defence, Babu. The couple’s amorous ventures are disturbed by a clicking sound and the shattering of glass. Ananya, the daughter of Babu and Kamia, argues with Babu who responds that nuclear weapons act as a deterrence, ‘you don’t use them, you just have them.’ A campaign is launched to demolish a mosque. Yudhvir exhorts all, that the site on which the mosque was built, is precisely God Ram’s birth-place. The glass-breaker and glass repairman lead the stoning as Ananya and Saleem witness the horror. A space is created below the site by which a placard, ‘DISPUTED SITE/(SACRED!)’ is placed.
Meanwhile Khan goes missing along with an undisclosed quantity of plutonium and a cobalt pencil. At a masquerade to felicitate the Minister on his birthday, the crooner sings paeans to those who led the assault on Poke-Her-Run. Just then there is a noiseless flash followed by a nuclear alert, ‘Citizens take shelter immediately!’...
Act 2 Scene 1
[The ‘DISPUTED SITE (SACRED!),’ is now converted into a nuclear shelter on stage—right. The black parapet with the stair is a symbolic division between the ground-level and the under-ground. Two soldiers are positioned outside, stage-left. They are armed. A siren goes off intermittently. The sound of running is mixed with screams and shouts of fear and distress.
Every member of the cast shown earlier, runs into the shelter by the sign, in sheer panic. This must be done creatively; the clairvoyant with her crystal ball, the glass repair-men with their glass and so on.... The ones left outside form the Chorus.]...

Soldier:

[with radio crackling] Silence! The head of the nation broadcasts to the nation. Shhhhh!!!!
Listen!!! [The radio is crackling, yet an audible voice is heard.]

Broadcast:

Friends and countrymen! Long ago, we made a tryst with destiny. And now the time has come to redeem our pledge. In this hour of glory, I call upon each of you to act like a hero!

First Soldier:

Why does he want, each of us to act like a hero?

Pagli:

[in a grim tone to all present] Because we have now become the state of [drawing out the words, slowly] He-ro-shi-ma. [Sound of crashing glass as everyone lies down and takes cover. Darkness. Brief interlude. Then the lights come on.]

Pagli:

[slowly rising] And everyone asked the corpse of the loved one to stand.

Chorus:

[slowly rising] And then?

Pagli:

The corpse did not move!

Chorus:

And then?

Pagli:

The entire family begged the corpse. Please get up! At least say something!

Chorus:

And then?

Pagli:

The corpse still did not move. In fact it lay still.

Chorus:

And then?

Pagli:

The entire city begged the corpse, ‘we love you, deeply. Don’t go like this!’

Chorus:

And then?

Pagli:

The corpse’s eyes seemed to say ‘why did you not say this, when I lived’ and it died.

Chorus:

Oh! [Mournfully]

Pagli:

Many loved ones have died in this city.

Chorus:

Is this a gas leak? Just like what happened in Bhopal?

Pagli:

Much worse. It’s inter-generational.

Chorus:

What’s that?

Pagli:

Your children. Your children’s children, they will all be affected. You are liable for generations to come. They [points] have ‘limited liability’. That’s the deal, the nuclear deal.

Chorus:

Oh! [Mournfully] They didn’t tell us!

Pagli:

[cups her ears] The radio broadcast resumes. Listen! Radio

Broadcast:

Now for some procedural announcements. Everyone is asked to grow phytoplankton. All women will be hereby checked for radio-activity and those whose wombs are healthy will be certified for reproductive activity. The climate change envoy B. Sharm will issue each person a universal identification number. All marriages and the Indian Constitution hereby stand dissolved. Please remain calm and stay tuned for further announcements....

Chorus:

[in dismay]
We should never
Have given them
So much power.
This is indeed
An unholy hour.
They fed us honey
Served on a razor’s edge
And now it has cut us!

Pagli:

Shhh! The radio broadcast resumes, listen! [All bend towards the radio and listen intently.]

Broadcast:

We ask you to stand-by for an important announcement. We regret to announce the demise of the Indian people. Please maintain a moment’s silence.
[Silence] This is the end of the news.

Chorus:

[in panic]. How do we go back? Tell us?

Pagli:

We only know how
To release it.
We don’t know
How to retrieve it.
The gift is now
Unwrapped;
Lie down and
Take the rap,
For death is
But a quiet nap....

Chorus:

[following] Om shaanti shaanti shaanti... peace, peace, peace. [Coughing and spluttering, each one slowly slumps in agony. The guards with their masks, march by, unaffected.]
[Black-out]
Act 2 Scene 2
[The lights now come on inside the shelter. The atmosphere is claustrophobic and one of panic. Like rats in a cage, they go around, to find no exit.]...

Kamia:

There it goes again.

Minister:

Quiet, let’s all listen.

Saleem:

It seems to come from him [Points at the saffronrobed priest.]

Priest:

[Admonishing Saleem who comes towards him, while keeping everyone at bay.] You seem to be forgetting your religion. I am a priest.

Saleem:

Right now, the only religion is survival.

Priest:

I am a Brahmin, don’t you dare touch my ‘janeau’ — my sacred thread! [Saleem wrestles with him. He overpowers and disrobes him. He finds a slim, small object emitting a clicking sound from the sacred thread around the priest’s neck.]

Saleem:

[almost throttling] What is this? [Holds the object up.] Tell me or I’ll....

Priest:

[with great reluctance] The cobalt pencil.

Saleem:

[as realisation dawns] Oh, so you are Dr Khan, the missing scientist who is supposed to have sold our nuclear secrets. [Everyone reacts with shock.]

Babu:

Nuclear jihadi!

Priest:

[blasé] What’s secret about nuclear weapons? It’s the greatest status symbol of today — ‘don’t mess with me or I’ll nuke you!’

Kamia:

So will this chattering pencil get us out?

Priest:

No, it’s telling us there is radioactivity. We could all be radioactive. [Stunned silence.]

Saleem:

[angry] You got us here!

Crowd:

[violent and angry] You got us in this hole!

Priest:

[shaking off Saleem, with new-found energy] Everyone wanted it! At that time, the bomb was the biggest insurance agent, the peace-keeper, the big deterrent!

Minister:

[defensively]. They were making it, so we had to do it, as well.

Kamia:

Now, we don’t know, who or what has got us into this hole.

Babu:

No one talked of disarmament.

Minister:

For God’s sake, stop this nonsense! Let’s get out of here and we’ll work to get rid of the bombs. It’s hell in here!

Kamia:

The truth is no one told us it could turn out like this. We thought they were instruments of peace, of deterrence!
[Bitterly] We believed the lies the CORP-STATE combo fed us. [Looking at the Minister, horrified.] And now I might end up a CORPSE! [Silence.]...

Ananya:

In the end is the Word, and the Word is Man and the Word is with Men. [Raising her arms upwards, as if in prayer.]
First we plundered,
Then went berserk
Tearing asunder
Your gentle skin.
Sinking into your crust
We thrust,
With lust,
Deep within.
Spewing steel and fire
Insignias of our arrival;
We quite forgot
We perhaps,
Needed you
For our survival.
But when the radiation
Rent the air
The bodies
Of our children,
Lay scattered
Everywhere....

Child:

[interrupts] I can sense ghosts....

Mother:

Shhh!! They are not ghosts dear, they are wandering souls.

Ananya:

Let us pray then, for those wandering souls; the Jews of the Holocaust, the dead in the two World Wars, Hiroshima and Nagasaki, those who succumbed to agent orange and napalm in Vietnam, the displaced in the Partition of the Indian subcontinent, the gasping in the Bhopal gas leak, Iraq....
We treat all living things as sacred,
We eschew all hatred.
[All present fervently pray; some fold their hands while others are on their knees.]

All chant:

We treat all living things as sacred. We eschew all hatred.

Ananya:

We idolise the earth, As a place of serenity. This is our prayer, For eternity.

All chant:

We idolise the earth
As a place of serenity,
This is our prayer
For eternity.
[Black-out]
Act 2 Scene 3
[The lights now come onto stage-left; the world above. The people in the shelter, on the right, remain in darkness but on stage. The audience see both simultaneously. The soldier is outside the shelter, with his gun and a protective mask. The set is dotted with fall-out, signifying the nuclear aftermath. A frail man enters.]

Soldier:

Halt! [aiming his gun] Or I’ll shoot! There is no more room inside. [Points to shelter.] You can’t go down there.

Primo Levi:

That won’t be necessary my boy.

Soldier:

[still pointing his gun] Who are you?

Primo Levi:

I am Primo Levi.

Soldier:

Where have you come from?

Primo Levi:

I am a survivor of Auschwitz—one of Hitler’s concentration camps.

Soldier:

[genuinely surprised] You escaped one concentration camp to join another? [Points to the shelter.]

Primo Levi:

No, I don’t want to go inside.

Soldier:

[intrigued]. What did you see on the way?

Primo Levi:

The banality of evil.

Soldier:

Look, don’t impose high-faluting words on me. What do you mean by the banality of evil?

Primo Levi:

Well, all this talk of ‘collateral damage’ and ‘atomic deterrence’, what does it amount to? Only death and destruction. I saw men lying like burnt fish on the way, gasping for water! This is much worse than the holocaust. And all by pushing a button, that’s how banal it is.

Soldier:

Oh, I could have told you that. But how do you explain that to the politicians?

Primo Levi:

They couch evil in jargon. When they dropped the bomb in Hiroshima, they called it ‘Little Boy,’ but it killed all the little boys around. At Nagasaki, ‘Fat Man....’...

Soldier:

[to man in Greek toga] Halt! Don’t come near or I’ll shoot!

The Martyr:

[holding a bowl] That won’t be necessary my boy.

Soldier:

You can’t go in [pointing to the shelter] it’s full.

The Martyr:

I’m not looking for shelter.

Soldier:

Who are you?

The Martyr:

I’m Socrates.

Soldier:

Socrates—Greek huh? And what are you looking for then?

The Martyr:

Truth.

Soldier:

Truth? [Laughs aloud, sardonically] Listen, [urgently] over a dozen people are croaking out their lives, down there. Got any food?

The Martyr:

No, I don’t have any food. But my son, I do have this [holding out a bowl].

Soldier:

[grabbing the bowl]. What’s this?

The Martyr:

The poison they served me was in this bowl. And I drank from it. They said I was poisoning young lives, by teaching them the Socratic Method.

Soldier:

Which is?

The Martyr:

Question! Question the answers the powers that be, are poisoning you with.Show truth to power! And they served me poison from this very bowl.

Soldier:

[holding the bowl upside down] Empty bowl?! [Holds bowl up to him, in a beggarly manner.] No food! No water! We are all ravenous!

The Martyr:

That’s all I have to offer son. [He moves off-stage.
The soldier is left standing there. There is a scraping sound, as a man with a cross enters.]

Soldier:

Who are you? [Fearfully] A suicide bomber? [Raising gun and pointing it at him.]

Man with a cross:

[gently] Stay calm my boy; no I am not a suicide bomber.

Soldier:

What’s this on your back? Grenades? Man with a cross: [reassuring]. No, my boy, I’m Jesus Christ and on my back [motions behind] is my cross.

Soldier:

[stepping back] Jesus Christ! Good heavens! What have you come for, salvation? [urgently] Listen, you got any food? Water? There are people starving down there! [Points towards shelter.] I [touching his stomach in desperation] haven’t eaten in days.

Man with a cross:

[sadly] No son, I have no food to give you.

Soldier:

[bitterly]. So what do you have, besides words?

Man with a cross:

I have this [reaches back to the cross].

Soldier:

[grabbing and examining it] A nail! [Sarcastic] And pray, what good is this going to do?

Man with a cross:

It’s what they nailed me to the cross with.

Soldier:

I can’t eat it. Try to understand; we have no food, absolutely no water, for days and days....

Man with a cross:

That’s all I have. Ask and ye shall receive. [Leaves.]

Soldier:

Wonderful! An empty bowl and a nail for my coffin! [Examining both contemptuously.] But, who is that?
[Man in a loin cloth, walking closer with a walking stick.]

Soldier:

Now, I don’t shoot to maim. I kill! Got any food? [Roars.]

Man in a loin cloth:

[humbly] I’ve got [He hunts within his loin cloth, takes out a small white package and offers it.] this.

Soldier:

[grabs] Ah, food! What is it? [examining it, closely].

Man in a loin cloth:

[gently] Salt.

Soldier:

[clutching his stomach, doubling over] I’m starving and you are rubbing salt on my wounds?

Man in a loin cloth:

It’s with salt that I struggled with the Empire.

Soldier:

[holding the salt, aloft, incredulously] But that was the Empire, we are free now. Anyway, who are you?

Man in a loin cloth:

Empires my son, are replaced by other Empires. Since you ask, I am Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi.

Soldier:

[reverentially] Mahatma Gandhi! But I had thought Bapu, you had gone to the clouds! [Points upwards.]

Man in a loin cloth:

I had son. But it’s the mushroom cloud, it’s this tragedy that has brought me to visit.

Soldier:

[eagerly] How can we be saved?

Man in a loin cloth:

You have to do satyagraha.

Soldier:

Satya-graha. [Draws out the words.] What’s that?

Man in a loin cloth:

The struggle for truth through non-violence.

Soldier:

[astounded]. Non-violence! Bapu, we are way past twentieth century words now. The bomb has gone off, only we just don’t know who has done it and we are past caring....

Man in a loin cloth:

You will have to experiment to seek the truth. But, here take this. [handing him].

Soldier:

[examining it]. Khadi, it’s a relic from the past!

Man in a loin cloth:

[looking into his eyes with deep love] Son, you will enable the poor to better their hard lot through dignified labour, won’t you?

Soldier:

[in desperation] Bapu, [his finger making an upward spiralling gesture] we have spun into a vortex of violence and you are still advocating home-spun cotton [spinning his finger in a horizontal manner] through your damn spindly charkha!

Man in a loin cloth:

[simply and with utmost humility] Salt and khadi is all I have, son. [Preparing to leave.]...
Act 2 Scene 5
[In a few moments a search party comes. A group of men with gas masks.]

First Rescue Worker:

I could swear I just heard the sound of a flute.

Second Rescue Worker:

Are you sure you are not hearing things? Who would play music in these times? Besides it’s been eight days and there is absolutely no sign of any survivors!

First Rescue Worker:

It was faint... very faint... [cupping his ears] Besides, there has to be some sign of life. [Looking around.] There were once over a billion people on this land! [turning to him] This was not just a country, but a whole civilisation. [Pause] If only I had a dog.

Second Rescue Worker:

A dog? Do you know what you are asking for? They are extinct from ground zero for miles. They died choking and gasping along with the larger mammals; cows, pigs, homo-sapiens... it was my job to dump the carcasses. This is no ordinary pandemic; it cannot be contained even after a few million deaths.

First Rescue Worker:

I just know, I feel it in my bones, someone is calling for help. I have faith.

Second Rescue Worker:

[scornfully] Faith? In these times?

First Rescue Worker:

Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the sum evidence of things not seen.

Second Rescue Worker:

Believe me, I’ve seen enough in the last few days; fires raging, imploded buildings; but when we saw mildew appear on the bodies, we bowed our heads and prayed in gratitude.

First Rescue Worker:

Gratitude for mildewing bodies?

Second Rescue Worker:

Because even mildew is a sign of life. You ain’t seen nothing, yet! But let me see if I can help.
[Leaves the stage, but returns soon with a black boxlike machine, which has a furry tail and a face on a leash. He is now accompanied by a few more rescue workers.]...

First Rescue Worker:

[excitedly] Look rose-marks! [Looking closely.] In fact they are bloodied foot-prints!

Second Rescue Worker:

[disbelieving] This is supposed to be a blood-less death. [looking] Besides, it’s only one foot, the other I can’t make out. It must be a strange animal or could even be the yeti.

First Rescue Worker:

The yeti?

Second Rescue Worker:

After the extinction of the Himalayan eco-system the animals have turned monstrous. This must be a wounded animal, rummaging around, trying to find some place to hide. [Laughs cynically.] These are bizarre times.

First Rescue Worker:

[gets on his knees to examine closely] Salt encrusted footprints! Amazing, let’s follow them! [Both follow the footprints. They reach Ananya, who is lying by the ‘DISPUTED SITE (SACRED!)’ sign in a heap, still clutching the peacock feather and the salt-laden bowl. All rush towards the body, draped in a scarf.]

Second Rescue Worker:

Incredible!
[First Rescue Worker picks up the scarf and reads aloud from it, like a scroll:]
I once lived
In a fragrant garden
With feathered birds
Who sang in a choir.
Then came the builders,
They filled the lake
With waste and mire
Silencing the choir.
Arise, oh friend of humanity
Restore some semblance of sanity.
Step out of the madding crowd,
Lift this death shroud;
Give me my garden,
The lake,
The feathered birds
Of the choir,
Oh, retrieve us
From this quagmire!

First Rescue Worker:

[in amazement] ‘Retrieve us from this quagmire!’ [He picks her up gently and caresses her lips with the peacock feather.] She breathes!
[Attending to her] There certainly must be others around!

Second Rescue Worker:

[looking at the first rescue-worker] It’s just poetry; don’t delude yourself.

First Rescue Worker:

Poetry, my dear, deserves to be taken seriously.

Second Rescue Worker:

Even in these times?

First Rescue Worker:

Particularly in these times. It’s the purest form of utterance....
[

Playwright’s Note:

‘The Gift’, dedicated to my beloved daughter Sachi, was started after Pokhran II, in response to the nuclear blasts in 1998. Somehow it lay unfinished on my desk and was completed in August 2010. The later events in Fukushima in March 2011 brought parts of the play almost true to life.]

irom sharmila's eleven year long fast

Irom Sharmila
A lone woman is on a hunger strike for eleven years! It makes my mind boggle just at the thought. She lives because she is being forcibly fed through a nasal drip at a hospital in Imphal, Manipur. Irom Sharmila uses her body as a political tool in the footsteps of Mahatma Gandhi. By depriving her body of food she makes her body a political site, inviting us to visit the torment so many mothers are going through in Manipur. Her non-violent cry is to repeal the Armed Forces Security Act that allows the security forces to take anyone away for questioning on grounds of mere suspicion. She says it is behind the killing and disappearance of several young men in Manipur.
I have never met Irom Sharmila, but her hunger fast strikes me as something that goes beyond what Mahatma Gandhi did, whose fast lasted an incredible 21 days, when imprisoned in Agha Khan palace and elsewhere - these fasts demanded attention and received it in the days of the British Raj. However, Empires seem to be replaced by other Empires and Irom Sharmila's eleven year-long fast does not seem to be getting the national and international attention it deserves. She is even denied visitors in hospital, according to Kuldip Nayar, who spoke at a recent meeting at Jantar Mantar, in soldiarity with Irom Sharmila. Releasing red balloons as a symbol of freedom, he asked that we write letters of solidarity to her. Deepti Priya Mehrotra who has written a book on her, said 'Sharmila sits in her hospital bed, facing a blank wall, with a just few photographs pinned up for comfort'. Let's visit this brave young woman who in a world full of violence gives us hope and courage that non-violence exists and can provide a scared space to negotiate within.
Irom sharmila is a frail woman whose iron courage, determination and refusal to accept violence provides hope and succour to all of us. Her very existence makes our universe, a beautiful one; full of hope!
Sagari Chhabra
13 December 2011