Its a bitter-sweet time. Perhaps the grey skies of the monsoon add to the melancholy that I usually feel when I see urchins selling plastic flags to car-driving cityfolk.
As we passed beneath the sprawling arch that seperates the Thane and Mumbai municipalities I was struck by a series of large hoardings that one of the political parties had installed. We were entering Thane - and we had our eyes full.
It was a large flex-board hoarding - full-colour - computer designed and printed - stuck on the very arch of the city. The black background had a man sitting on a royal leather-padded throne. On either side were two marble pillars (or were they candles?) and the English word "BOSS" cascading down each side. In each of the 4 corners the smiling head of a political heavy-weight grinned out - showing which party the 'BOSS' is from.
O.K. make that "3 corners with grinning heavy-weights" Actually 1 corner had the grinning face of the son of a heavy-weight - who no doubt wants to earn the stripes of his famous father that he was sharing the hoarding with.
Further on in our fine city of Thane the Hindi/Marathi versions of the hoarding were liberally plastered. This time the man in question had the more traditional white background combined with a tastefully faint saffron-white-green. The main Hindi text was a stylized "Bhai" written in swerving devanagri script . Same man. Different titles. "BOSS" seems to be left for English speakers I guess.
What depresses me of this bit of self-promotion is the sheer bankruptcy it so clearly demostrates What kind of leaders do we have - who so clearly set them selves up as goons? Joseph de Maistre (1753-1821) wrote in 1811: “Toute nation a le gouvernement qu’elle merite.” ("Every nation has the government it deserves.") Others have said that we end up becoming like those we worship. Surely we must have some hope more than these caricatures? If I were living in a Tintin comic it would be one thing - but this is real life. These men are literally 'making our laws' and 'enforcing the will of the people' as elected representatives.
The Hindi word 'Bhai' has a specific Mumbai connotation which goes well beyond the generic 'brother' that I have always taken the word at. It clearly has the flavour of the underworld 'Bhais' who are said to control vast stretches of the city - sometimes even after being put behind bars.A crime reporter in Mumbai did a short piece on one of the parties who have 'set up a committee' to monitor who gets put on the hoardings around the city. Apparently the picture on the left was put up in certain parts of South Mumbai 'felicitating' the smiling man on the right for being appointed to a party position. Based on this 'appointment' he had been getting people to sign over land agreements. The grinning fellow is actually a builder - one of the professions notoriously connected with crime and corruption. The party in question claims that he was never given such a position. Hmmmm.
The advantage of photoshop is that anyone can make a large hoarding liberally sprinkled with images of the powers that be - and give the impression that they are in close relation to the high and mighty. These days in Thane the common-man is regularly treated these poster-monstrocities. Some of them have whole pantheons of heads some larger (i.e. more important), some smaller, some in colour, some in black-and-white (i.e. dead but still valuable to be associated with). Every small (and sometimes they look barely in their teens) 'political activist' can now show others how important he (or she) is. Make a flex poster! Put it up to celebrate a leader's birthday! Or a religious festival! Or a great patriotic day!
One of my recent favourites was one I saw near Vasant Vihar - where one 'head' had been cut out. There was a neat square hole in the flex-canvas where it had been. The person associated with the head-shot must have fallen from grace. I wish I had been able to photograph it... The 'head' was axed, but the cost of the whole mammoth hoarding must have been deemed too much to reprint it sans offending head - so the hoarding remained albeit with a neat hole in it.
So we come back to the melancholy of August 15th. The now faded narrative of nation-formation is almost thread-bare. We bring out a large dash of sepia-shaded memories of men whose names are gradually fading from popular consciousness. Instead our blues are coloured with the often jarring computer hues of the contemporary political flex-banner.
How sad to be in such a vibrant country which knows so little about itself. How feeble our national identity is today. How tragic that we have allowed what seem to be the very worst, most shameless of us to take on the mantles as our 'leaders.' The lovely Hindi word 'neta' has been drained of the plain-jane (or should that be plain-jain?) meaning of 'leader.' 'Neta' now stands for the shady, swarmy chap who uses hook-and-crook-and-every-trick-in-the-book to get the coveted 'chair.' Once installed he starts paying back and working on moving up to the next chair that his (or her) eyes are on.
Cry the beloved country.
Jai Hind!
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