Recently, as I was getting down from the metro to walk to the office, I saw that the usual crowd of rickshawallahs and the e-rickshaw and auto guys were being dispersed with a lot of energy and a general spirit of activity by the police. I noticed that the pan-tapri guy I met had also been displaced. When I went to his place later for a customary post-lunch chai-sutta, he was back.
On enquiring, I was informed that Emmanuel Macron, the President of France, was going to pass through that road. Hence, the police and municipality officials had removed all rickshaws, tapris, sugarcane juice vendors – basically anything which wasn’t bright and shiny and indicated that everyone in India wasn’t super rich and did yoga all the time. Even pakoda-sellers were made to run away, despite having recently attained recognition as the symbol of the great entrepreneurial boom in the Indian economy.
Having grown up in Delhi, this is a sight I was familiar with. As a kid, I always wondered why Lutyen’s Delhi looked so different from the rest, and why you never saw cycle-rickshaws or tapris there. Having grown up in West Delhi, small chaotic roads, bustling markets and cycle-rickshaws were an essential part of life. I realised this was the situation because this is where the elite and the powerful lived. It was also damn convenient because all the embassies were over here.
I think the plan was that the firangis should never be aware of the undesirable side of Delhi; rather, they should only see the pretty picture-perfect version. I mean, obviously, your perspective of Delhi is going to be a lot different if you are living in Geeta Colony or Kotla Mubarakpur. I know so many people who have grown up in the more upmarket areas of Delhi and are blindingly oblivious to the infrastructure and livelihood issues that a majority of citizens face. Because, out of sight = out of mind is so true, in my opinion.
The same thing happened when Ivanka Trump was visiting Hyderabad. At that time, beggars were rounded up before her visit to spare her the horror of looking directly at them. I think this is a twisted interpretation of the patriotism and nationalism wave that is taking over the country. We are poor, but let’s not talk about it – and ‘god/cow forbid’ if you tell a foreigner!
On social media, I have seen people being reprimanded for saying anything negative about India while talking with ‘non-Indians’ – with the censure not being on the critique, but the fact that it had been expressed in front of an outsider. It’s just like how our society deals with domestic violence, “ghar ki baat hai” and ‘family matters’.
So, we know that there is a problem but it’s better to not discuss it, rather than sharing it with an outsider.
So one hand, you have “Bharat mata ki jai” and “Superpower India”, while on the other, you have an unofficial ‘omerta’ on saying anything negative about India. If you break that omerta, you are immediately branded a non-patriot, anti-national and as I recently learned, part of the so-called tukde-tukde gang. “Love for the country must be absolute, unconditional and unqualified, otherwise you can go to Pakistan.” I wish there would be more of a choice in terms of the countries that one can be sent to, but sadly, there doesn’t seem to be an option.
Basically, we are all supposed to pretend and repeat that everything is good and India is shining and just ignore what isn’t working. I think that more and more people are signing up for this. For most people, the idea of development is very personal and rooted in the present. If everything is fine with me, then everything is fine with the world. Which is why we probably don’t care when Adivasis, Dalits and other marginalised communities are deprived of land and access to education, when farmers commit suicide, when animals lose their habitats, when small communities are displaced from their ancient lands and when women are denied access to property and resources. We see all of this as the essential costs for the empyrean concept of development, which will make things good for everyone at some time in the future – a future which is never fixed, but is always a few years away.
This is reflected in attitudes and responses of the urban/upper class to events like the farmers’ protests. People complain about how the government mollycoddles farmers by not charging tax and providing loan waivers to them. No one cares enough to move beyond their views and see the real situation. Why are farmers killing themselves? Why is it becoming so unviable to practise agriculture in India? Why are farmers stuck in a debt cycle from which they are unable to get out? There are many logical, obvious reasons behind this, but maybe no one wants to look.
This is also a criticism that I have with regards to the ‘privacy movement’ in India. The government has been trying to make Aadhaar compulsory for availing benefits and government services since the past few years. On the other hand, grassroots activists and organisations have been pointing out issues with and the failures of the Aadhaar system since then. But it’s only in the last couple of years that this issue has been ‘mainstreamed’ and people are resisting it on social media. In my opinion, it’s indicative of the fact that the urban class protested only when the Aadhaar started effecting spheres that we commonly deal with – passports, banking and financial services, and mobile connections. This just proves that till the time something affects us personally, we are just happy to let things be.
Maybe the best thing for the state to do is to release a large amount of morphine into the atmosphere. This would ensure that everyone is happy and feeling upbeat about the country at all times, while ignoring the things seen as irritants to the idea of India as a superpower – plus, employment for farmers in poppy cultivation. A win-win either way!