....and you call them "machchars"!

Raju Korti

Mosquito is a mosquito from any angle.

I have lost count, and therefore interest, on the number of "Days" that people observe or celebrate. By sheer accident and idle meandering on the net, I discovered that today (August 21) is World Mosquito Day. A quick research told me that this day is celebrated to commemorate British doctor Sir Ronald Ross who did mankind a huge favor by establishing that the female parasite is primarily responsible for causing malaria and its more dreadful variants.
Ross is himself believed to have issued an appeal to observe the day as World Mosquito Day. I guess somewhere at the back of his mind, Ross was conscious that while he had made a great discovery, he was also duty-bound to propose a vote of thanks to the little creatures who made it happen. The fact that they are belittled as "machchars" -- now a derogatory term for trivial and inconsequential people --  has not taken any of the the sting out of their bite. I remember a decade back having read a World Health Organization report singling out Malaria as the most rampant prospect ahead of AIDS, Ebola, Bird Flu and other modern-day afflictions. The s(t)ing-and-bite brutes have belied their size to make short work of other parasites by multiplying themselves at the rate that even humans have found it impossible to match.
I have also noted with awe that observing World Mosquito Day has been a decades old tradition with the famed London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine -- proof, if it is needed, that mosquitoes have shown themselves worthy of the tradition and honor while fighting for that exalted position. All this at a time when a number of repellents are "all out" to eliminate them and ensure humans have a "good night". If some of my doctor friends are to be believed, mosquitoes have mutated into new and potentially more dangerous avtaars capable of surviving even the until-now-time-tested Quinine. There cannot a better example of truth being bitter than this.
The man who gave mosquitoes the dignity and stature they deserve is Nana Patekar through that  immortal dialogue :"Saala ek machchar bhi aadmi ko hijda bana deta hai" (Just one mosquito can reduce a person to a transgender) although it is patently disparaging for the transgenders. The creatures for all seasons sing choruses as humans provide background music with clapping.
The superiority of mosquitoes over other fleas is evident in the profound quote I stumbled upon the internet this morning. "Mosquito control is the currently the most effective measure to reduce the spread of malaria.". In simple words it means the mankind is still as clueless to deal with them as it was a number of decades ago.
A few years ago someone had come out with a brilliant idea that mosquitoes be trained to suck the cellulite/fat from the human body than the blood they feast on - a win win situation for both but mosquitoes have proved time and again they are not dumb. Anyway not as much as the victims they predate on. Ask those who try to slap them off and end up leaving a mark on their own face.
An apocryphal story about mosquitoes. Of course, it is from my own imagination. Two people sat in a bar drinking. They kept swatting mosquitoes in the humidity of the bar and got drunk enough to challenge the mosquitoes. One of them pointed to a table in the corner where a mosquito was relaxing after his own binge. "Let's see if we can kill it", he challenged. Both decided to give it their best shot. One of them drew a revolver, aimed at the mosquito and fired. The plate on which the mosquito sat broke into pieces and the mosquito fled to sit on another plate nearby. His friend jeered at him for missing the target and took the revolver to shoot the mosquito again. He fired with the same result. Now it was the turn of the first to jeer but his friend dismissed him with a swat of his hand. "That mosquito will never have children. I have shot off its testicles.".
Moral of the story: Time to find such brave-harts.
Until then, let's concede their superiority by declaring the mosquito as an International Bird. 

Narsinh Mehta documentary and the strain of Gandhi's song

Raju Korti

Narsinh Mehta, a file grab

I have always carried the burden of my conviction that Faith is to believe what you do not see and its reward is to see what you believe. If I feel vindicated today it is thanks to the compelling documentary " Gandhi's Song" made by my US-based fellow journalist and dear friend Mayank Chhaya. It is remarkable how Mayank has been able to embroider the divine spirit of poet-saint Narsinh Mehta's work with the Gandhian ethos. The 15th century poet's mystique comes to the fore from a number of brilliant expositions, notable among them being "Vaishnav jan to tene kahiye peed parayi jaane re.." Venerated as Adi Kavi (pioneering poet) and occupying a pride of place in the thriving Gujarati literature, Mehta is widely regarded as a pre-eminent exponent of Vaishnav poetry. But first things first!
My first appointment with this Gandhian intonation came way back in 1974 while grappling with my Engineering studies. Each morning, we hostel residents woke up to the strains of this song which was followed by other bhajans. Without allowing the curiosity to get the better of us, we concluded in our misplaced wisdom that the song was written by Gandhi himself until the hostel rector chastised us for our ignorance and told us that it was the work of Gujarati saint-composer Narsinh Mehta. The key element of this small anecdote is the rector was a Maharashtrian. If anything, I learnt that here was a poet-devotee whose appeal had far transcended the Krishnaland of Gujarat. Proof, if any was required, came from the ubiquitous presence of the collection of his devotional songs published by the famous Geeta Press of Gorakhpur. The publishers have since faded into oblivion but Mehta remains an integral part of the psyche of those to whom devotion is the very essence of life.
Mayank's documentary flows like a stream with an idyllic beauty. Foraying into a territory that is devoid of any populism and allows no scope for playing to the gallery, Mayank gives it the character, chastity and temperance it calls for. The result is over 70 minutes of spell-binding narrative characterized by an articulation you don't get to hear in these times of frivolous.
Mayank's recountal is like a recital, a commentary that has a lyrical composition and visual appeal to it -- the words stitched more like notations. That in itself is a robust tribute to the saint who breezed into history with his extraordinary devotion through an array of resonating bhajans.
Given the guilelessness of the subject, it has been handled with the restraint it deserves. The documentary has class written all over in terms of production values, directorial effort and editing. Such features happen when the maker doesn't approach the subject with stars in his eyes. Mayank has chosen just the right people to punctuate his narrative. Dr Tridip Suhrud an acknowledged authority in Gandhian literature, Tushar Gandhi (Mahatma's great grandson) and Jawahar Baxi, well known Gujarati poet. A quick word of praise for Bill Russell for the fluent narration.
Says Mayank: "Narsinh Mehta and his work have been a lifelong passion for me. However, in so much as one needs a hook for a documentary, I could not have considered anything other than his most enduring creation 'Vaishnav jan to..' Quite apart from the fact that it became Mohandas Gandhi's moral compass and hence by implication informed his leadership of India's freedom movement, it is also one of world's most widely sung songs. There is a great story to tell. "A particular peeve for me was that a surprising number, I would say eight or nine out of ten, would say it was written by Gandhi not knowing that it is over 550 years old. The documentary tries to correct that wrong."
To follow one's instincts and choose such a theme always comes with its attendant risks. For Mayank, it was a tough slog in terms of finances but help came from three individuals, two in US and one in Bahrain, all Gujaratis who bankrolled the project. Will finally found its way to become love's labor. " It was a deeply satisfying venture for me at an intellectual level but harrowing financially. In a sense it is quite like Mehta's own life that was always penurious, he points out." The reimbursement came from the scholastic pursuit of something that was always close to his heart. A significant characteristic of the documentary is Mayank has ensured that the weight of his words does not incommode the simplicity of the theme. The words have been woven into theme seamlessly and that is not as easy as it sounds.

Mayank Chhaya

In an interview, Mayank answered some of my questions relating to the documentary. Here they go:

Q: India is known to be a land of saints. In the galaxy of such greats who wrote poetry and ballads in their total surrender to what is believed as the ultimate force in the Universe, why did you choose Narsinh Mehta for your documentary? What distinguished his "bhakti" from others who also claimed to have communion with the God?
A: Having been born in Gujarat -- Ahmedabad specifically -- Narsinh Mehta had always been intrinsic to my life. Apart from his most celebrated work "Vaishnav jan to" I grew up listening to an astonishing range of his songs and ballads. For as long as I remember, I was always struck by his profound philosophical undercurrent. That Mehta straddled both the Saguna and Nirguna worlds with such remarkable ease as a poet was for me irresistible. His "bhakti" were secondary to me since I am personally bereft of a devotional instinct. My draw to Mehta has been the brilliant imagery of his poetry and its lustrous wonderment about the Universe.
Q: How did you negotiate a subject where there are varying impressions about his pedigree and the chronology of his compositions?
A: It is true that his period has been a subject of scholarly debate but I chose to depend on the great Gujarati litterateur Uma Shankar Joshi's perspective in terms of his era, However, in which era Mehta might have lived was of far less consequence to me than the quality and range of what he constructed in terms of his philosophical poetry.
Q: How relevant do you think is Mehta's ethos on Equality in today's context when you see the society fragmenting on various counts? Is that what influenced Gandhi to adopt his song?
A: I consider "Vaishnav jan to" as the perfect global secular standard whose relevance is irrespective of the times we live in. It is carefully shorn of the dogmatic or the doctrinaire. It offers a refreshingly uncomplicated way to conduct one's life which when you reflect on it should be obvious to anyone without being told. Gandhi's engagement with Mehta was almost entirely via this one song even though he ought to have been aware of his other works. It is my case that Gandhi did indeed construct a significant part of his personal and political philosophy with this song as the basis.He made it one of the songs to be sung at his ashram in South Africa in 1907 and continued until his death.
Q: Mehta's devotion to his Beloved as so pure that he had no qualms in singing bhajans in areas where the towns lower classes resided. It is said that "Vaishnav jan to" was born out of his wish to see an egalitarian society. Did it stem from his conviction that unless one is in tune with his soul, no human endeavor would ever succeed?
A: Absolutely. His poetry was in defiance of the oppressive societal norms of the times then and the times even now. He was treated with contempt by his own community and cast off as a pariah. He did not reach out to the grotesquely discriminated against sections of the society of his time out of a sense of condescending  to them but out of a genuine conviction about the universality of human race. His sense of egalitarianism was extraordinary and informed by his deep realization about the singular force animating us all. You are right to point out that his philosophy of being one with one;s Soul was the key definer of his life and work.
Q: Mehta's work underscores his profound understanding of the ephemeral nature of life. Was that one of the driving factors behind your documentary? Or was it because of the cosmic romanticism that he visualized through his divine vision?
A: As a student of Physics generally and Quantum Physics particularly, like you are, I was struck by his keen grasp of how evanescent existence is. His songs "Jaginejoun  to jagatdeeseynahin" (When I wake up the world vanishes) and "Hun kharey tun kharo" ( You exist because I do) are to my mind the essence of Mehta's life which capture the quintessence of Quantum Physics so unwittingly and so brilliantly.
Q: Mehta's compositions, generally categorized as Vaishnav compositions, are full of lyricism based on pastimes of conjugal love between the Supreme Creator and his most intimate devotees (the Gopis). They are not without allegorical dimensions and are devoid of the erotic element so vivid in contemporary European works. Your comment.
A: You are spot on. His communion with that singular force, as manifest in his mind as Krishna, was so deep and yet so transient that he chose to express it without much eroticism. Of course, there are some works where he does touch upon the erotic on passing. That he constructed his songs and ballads in a way that could be composed and sung shows that he was conscious of their propagation. Reputedly illiterate, it is striking that his language was so fine-tuned to address rather deep themes.
Q: From a family understood to have been steeped in Shaivism, the poet is said to have become a Vaishnava. Your documentary makes a fleeting mention of Dwaita and Adwaita (Dual and Non-dual). Viewed in that context what was your finding about how smooth was this transition?
A: As you say, the transition was so seamless as to be indistinguishable. I am not sure whether the transition from Dwaita to Adwaita came early or later in life but the traditional view is that he graduated from one to the other as he became older. I am not so sure. In terms of his so called move from Shaivism to Vaishnavism, I think he did not necessarily make a distinction in his mind because he was driven by the primordial. In any case, legend has it that it was Shiv who took him to witness Krishna Leela. Carrying a torch in his hand, Mehta was said to have been so enraptured by the spectacle that he accidentally burned part of his arm.
Q: Mehta is known as a pioneer poet of Gujarati literature. One of the important features of Mehta's work is in the language he composed them. They have been largely preserved orally. Despite this his work has found a universal appeal. How do you explain this?
A: One primary reason could be the inherent musicality of his songs and the fact that he sang them himself. As in many parts of medieval India, particularly swept by the "Bhakti" movement, the propagation was oral because that was the easiest way to remember. I suppose the levels of literacy generally were not high and people were naturally good at remembering. Shruti (Hearing) and Smruti (Memory) have always been the defining elements of Indian literature.
Q: Your documentary dwells more on his perceptions and enlightenments than the miracles attributed to him. Was that your focus when it would have been too much of a temptation to dwell on those?
A: My natural attraction has always been the philosophical even though the miraculous might seem more dramatic. I find that the miraculous tends to take away from the sheer poetic and philosophical brilliance of Mehta's works. As a documentary my objective of it was to bring those elements out for the world beyond  Gujarat and India.
Q: At least two films, both named Narsi Bhagat, have been made on the life of the saint-poet. One in 1940 by well known Gujarati director Vijay Bhat and the other in 1957 by Devendra Goel. Have you seen them for cinematic reference?
A: No.     
 
Here is the link to his documentary. It is password enabled and pay-per-view. Please do watch.

https://vimeo.com/155155514

Vajpayee: Knight in the shining armor

Raju Korti

The Vajpayee as I saw him in my school days

My first look at the charismatic Atal Behari Vajpayee was some time in 1965-66 during my schooling days in Nagpur. I would often see him ambling along on the streets arm-in-arm with Lal Krishna Advani and a few other local leaders. While Advani would just smile warmly, Vajpayee would keep chuckling. In hindsight, I feel that these chuckles came out out at times from his innate sarcasm and wit and at times from the genial nature that made him immensely popular with the masses. Even in those days, I could see that Vajpayee's humor pinched but never offended anyone although both him and Advani along with other veterans like Nanaji Deshmukh were sworn and committed members of the much reviled erstwhile Jan Sangh. Too young to understand the intricacies of politics, most of us school kids followed political processions simply to collect poll pamphlets and party badges thrown at people. Advani was not too demonstrative but Vajpayee would often pause to pat our cheeks with a smile to die for.
At a time when the political reins were firmly in the hands of the Congress (not Indira's Congress then), the Jan Sangh stood no chance. It was was considered a political pariah ever since Godse pumped bullets into the frail Gandhi in 1948. It was generally accepted that the Rashtriya Swayam Sewak and the Jan Sangh were two sides of the same coin, an issue which later came to boil when the Janata Party -- of which the Jan Sangh was a constituent member -- went into a ferment because Socialist leaders Madhu Limaye and Raj Narain took it upon themselves to squander away the laboriously earned power on the duality of RSS and Jan Sangh membership. But the Vajpayee trick here was to shift seamlessly from a Sangh activist to a BJP functionary.
Two and half years later, the Janata Party government suffered multiple fractures and the Jan Sangh decided to shed its old skin to appear in a new avtaar called Bharatiya Janata Party. In all this turmoil, Vajpayee never lost his sardonic wit. If any, it got sharper. I clearly recall, the Congress, never used to be out of power, was finding it tough to reconcile to the new dispensation. So much so that fissures started appearing in its ranks. This was in 1978. I was about to become a media professional and trying to come to grips with the nitty gritty of politics. In those days of run up to my career, Vajpayee told me with that mischievous glint in his eyes: "Hum se kehte the toot jaayenge, toot jaayenge. Hum se pehle khood hi toot gaye." (They taunted us we would eventually break but themselves broke first.).
With the emergence of the BJP on the political firmament, the perceptions were becoming clearer. Advani, who catapulted the party from an inconsequential to a dominant force, made no bones about his hawkish ways while Vajpayee came across as a moderate face of the party. It prompted many to comment that Vajpayee was a right man in the wrong party.
I make this observation in the light of one major political development that could have been a game-changer in the country's political history. While pushing for a full-scale diplomatic initiative to resolve the Kashmir issue, Vajpayee, then PM, met up with President Pervez Musharraf at a summit meeting in Agra in 2001 and almost came close to being there. The summit, however, ended abruptly with Musharraf returning to Pakistan in a huff. There was no clear word on what went wrong but the general impression was it was Advani who punctured the peace process by putting his foot down and refusing to budge even an inch. Neither Vajpayee nor Advani came clean on what happened and till today the issue remains shrouded in mystery. In a way it could have been interpreted that Advani held a bigger sway over the party being the architect of BJP's revival at the national level although Vajpayee was a more popular draw. I feel it was this particular irony and dichotomy that made them an ideal pair in politics. Together, both played defining roles in steering the country and juggling their party politics.
The dhoti-jacket clad poet statesman drew wide appeal from even his arch rivals. I remember a local Congress leader once telling me that listening to Vajpayee speak was an education. "He was so good that we laughed even when he mocked us. It was laced with quaint but decent humor and we never felt slighted when he poked fun at us. Vajpayee was not one of those politicians who took pride in running rivals down. While his other partymen chose to maintain a studied silence, Vajpayee was vocal enough to have a word of praise for even his worst rivals, notable among them being Indira Gandhi whom he called "Durga" during the Bangla Desh war. It was never opposition for the sake of opposition for Vajpayee, a quality that endeared him across the political landscape. He was essentially a forward looking man. At a time when other political leaders prided themselves on the country's ethos of Jai Jawan Jai Kisan, Vajpayee added Jai Vigyan to it to rid the slogan of its cliche.
The finesse he brought to the prime minister's chair was evident in the manner in which he resigned after losing the trust motion by just one vote and walked up to the Speaker to tell him that he was headed to the Rashtrapati Bhavan right away. No claims, no headcounts no horse-trading and no attempts to wean MPs from other parties. Compare this body language with that of latter prime minister Deve Gowda who after losing the no confidence motion looked so crestfallen as if it was the end of the world.
I will not labor over how he stunned the world by ending decades-old moratorium on nuclear weapons test but nevertheless managed to ease tensions with Pakistan. Nor do I want to make out a case that he became a prime minister in a pink sandstone palace that once housed the British viceroys. It is also not my case to dwell on the steps he took to solve the boundary dispute with expansionist China or how he effected an economic overhaul by privatizing state-owned industries, encouraged foreign investments, eased trade restrictions and fostered a technological revolution. Enough has been written on his stature as a politician, statesman and a poet to elicit a repeat with just play of words..
Simply put, he was the face of the world's most populous democracy of one billion whose ethnic, religious and regional conflicts fomented massacres, three wars with Pakistan and internal strife for half a century after independence. To me, his death is a gentle nudge that this country needs Vajpayees, not politicians.

Captain Royale Ajit Wadekar

Raju Korti

In many ways the onset of 70s was responsible for the renaissance of Indian cricket. The man who brought about this resurgence was Ajit Wadekar who passed into eternity yesterday late night after a protracted illness.
Captaincy came to him in quite an unusual manner. In the clamor for change of guard, Wadekar pipped his predecessor Nawab of Pataudi to the post through the casting vote of then Chairman of Selectors Vijay Merchant.
There were quite a few eyebrows raised at the way he was elevated but Wadekar took the new responsibility with stoicism and composure. He was well aware that it was going to be baptism by fire since he was to lead the Indian side against the mighty West Indies led by the super mighty Gary Sobers.As expected a barrage of questions were thrown at him during his first press conference as the skipper. Asked how his team with a known weakness against the short-pitched stuff was going to face the prospect of negotiating Windies pace battery, an unruffled Wadekar said "good batsmen are never afraid of good bowlers." Wadekar was not letting off verbal steam. He made it happen through newbie Sunil Gavaskar who amassed 774 in his first series, veteran Dilip Sardesai making 642 runs at the fag end of his career and another rookie Eknath Solkar excelling in all departments of the game. Wadekar moulded the team into a fighting outfit as it unfolded later in that series.
Somewhat reticent, Wadekar opened up after I met him thrice at his residence. Unspooling memories of that epoch-making series, Wadekar recalled how there was a hushed silence in the West Indian dressing room when India asked the host team to follow on. "Winning was not on my mind then but there was enough gratification in asking them to follow on. Imagine asking West Indies to follow on with Sobers, Kanhai, Fredericks, Llyod in their team".
Wadekar led from the front and India won that series. That was no flash in the pan. Wadekar crowned himself with glory by winning the next series against the much stronger Englishmen who had the likes of Boycott, Edrich, Luckhurst and Illingworth. His main weapon was polio-affected Chandrashekhar, who if I remember correctly, was practically turning the ball at right angles at a pace that a traditional spinner rarely bowls. Wadekar brought in a revolution of sorts by throwing the ball at spinners to open the bowling with an occasional over to Solkar or Abid Ali merely as formality. That tactics worked wonders and the Englishmen didn't know what had hit them. Wadekar's popularity had reached such dizzy heights then that people believed he was Ajit (invincible) in the real sense of the word.
In 1972, Wadekar toyed with the Tony Lewis-led England team. Not only did he score heavily, he led the team exceptionally well. His record as a Test batsman belies the grandeur he brought on to the field. Stylish and elegant, his cover drives were sheer caresses and a sight for sore eyes. I think there were few fielders who were as good as he was in the slips. For someone whose body language was so languid Wadekar made slip catching look ridiculously easy. The only other slip catcher I can think of of that caliber at the time was Phil Sharpe of England.
He had this strange style of speaking through clenched teeth. So at times his team-mates did not quite get what he wanted to say. He remembered his contemporary, wicket-keeper Farrokh Engineer as a garrulous cricketer. "He would chat continuously behind the stumps and that would disturb me. At times I opted to field elsewhere just to escape his banter."
There was however other side to his serious personality that I discovered. Perhaps the only time he chuckled heartily was when he told me how in 1971 he had make a mickey out of English commentator Brian Johnston. "Brian was doing live on-field interviews for TV and as I got out and walked back to the pavilion, he came to me and asked me 'Wadders (as he called me while I called him Johnners) what went wrong?"
"Sorry Johnners, me no speak. I no give interview you." Brian's face turned red at this and the camera quickly panned on elsewhere to hide his embarrassment. Later, I told him it was a leg pull returned in kind since Brian himself was notorious for pulling leg.
Wadekar chose not to mince words at his rather unceremonious retirement. After that whistewash in England during the 1974 series, the same people who idolized him sky high, blackened the bat the Indian cricket Board had erected in honor of his achievements. "It was sad. It was proof that public memory is short. After that ignominious series dubbed as Summer of 42, I realized it was time to go. (In the last of the three Test series, India capitulated with mere 42. The previous two tests were also lost by a huge margin.) There was another blot on the team of which he was part against the New Zealanders led by Graham Dowling in 1969. Pataudi was the captain them and in the Nagpur Test, almost the entire team took to the field in a sozzled state. Wadekar himself dropped a skier from Dowling and the entire crowd saw his hands shaking while trying to catch. He dropped it and there was a big boo from the crowd. "We were not as fiercely competitive those days. We played more for the fun of the game because the money was peanuts compared to what cricketers get today," he told me. This was the same Wadekar who also told me that cricket should be made professional in India like it is in England. No one took him seriously including the BCCI always flush with funds.

Wadekar, however, owed much more to the Indian cricket. As coach he instilled confidence in each player. His very presence commanded respect. The first time I met him was in Mahabaleshwar in 1988 where he had come with his family for an outing. "Aala ki mala phone kar aani bhet (Call me once you come back), he told me and kept his promise. We met three times after that and each time he got nostalgic after a couple of pegs. While helping himself, he would also insist I accompany him which of course, I never did.
As Probationary Officer with the State Bank of India, the Ruia College alumni went out of the way to get new accounts. He would personally accept application forms and gift them plastic bats with his signature on them. He was a huge draw.
Essentially a front foot player, my enduring memory of his is the way he just tapped the ball to the cover boundary and taking blinders in the slip before anyone realized he had caught the ball. That was the signature grace he left on Indian cricket. Tall and handsome, he truly epitomized handsome is what the handsome does.

Assam and its discord over NRC

Raju Korti
Looking back in time can be of great academic interest especially when they have their roots in the present. The much trumpeted Assam accord is another in the line of festering political issues that has traveled 33 years with no tangible result in sight. The country has a history of issues that have opened a bigger Pandora's box after they were believed to have been amicably resolved.

Rajiv Gandhi signing the Assam accord

On 14th August, 1985, I was Shift In-charge of Page One of the Indian Express. The air was thick with anticipation not for the customary and regulation speeches of the prime minister and the president but for the much awaited holiday from the routine skulduggery that journalists are condemned to every day. Even in that glee, all my colleagues with me were having an animated discussion about the possible accord that then Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi was likely to sign with the All Assam Students Union (AASU) on the issue of illegal migrants infiltrating Assam. Hailed as a great visionary who held the promise of transforming the political ethos of the country, Rajiv was actually cornered by outfits to shoo out the infiltrators back to Bangladesh and Myanmar. The agitation was spearheaded by Prafulla Kumar Mahanta of Assam Gana Parishad , a 35 plus youth leader who became the chief minister on that plank.
The accord was signed the next day to a rousing welcome across all political parties, but some of us were not fooled given Congress' ecosystem of keeping sensitive political issues alive in public memory. The story was carried as a banner by the print media and it didn't occur to many to assess the ramifications of the agreement before letting their verdicts out. In all the glee, Kashmir, Punjab and Sri Lanka faded out of scene for a while.
The parties to the accord had agreed on 1st January 1966 as the cut off date for detecting and deleting foreigners coming to Assam from a "specified territory" (read Bangladesh and Myanmar) who had been staying in India without legal citizenship. The Assamese anguish stemmed from their rights being eaten up by the infiltrators. The Foreigners Act, 1946 was invoked to carry out the process which among other things sought to delete those whose names had made it to the electoral rolls.
For all the credit he got, Rajiv had actually carried forward Indira's style of handling internal conflicts like Kashmir, Khalistan and Tamils. Rajiv signed the accord but never chose to implement it. This was a no brainer in a country where political expediencies are guided by vote bank politics. His successors P V Narasinha Rao was too busy with his pet theme of liberalization and Manmohan Singh didn't have the gumption to defy the Gandhis. For reasons that are not far to seek, the Left-centric Congress never broached the issue with Bangladesh. The problem was compounded by the Assamese tribals who felt slighted because they were convinced they were the original inhabitants and didn't want to be even considered in the exercise.
On the gas for long, the issue of National Register of Citizens (NRC) has now come to a boil. Mamata Banerjee is understandably peeved at losing a potential vote bank and is opposing tooth and nail. The perception that the NRC aims at driving Bengalis out is misplaced since there are also Assamese who do not figure in it. If the draft list is causing such heart-burn, one can only imagine what will happen when the NRC goes on the hammer. Little wonder, the threat of bloodshed and civil war.
What needs to be understood is these foreigners are stateless people who have no right to use the resources and opportunities that belong to the indigenous Assamese. The remarkable rise in the population of that state is testimony to the degree of infiltration. Very few countries are receptive to the idea of accepting refugees and illegal population for obvious reasons but India has a heart of gold. In 1971, India welcomed with open arms refugees from the strife-torn Bangladesh. There is no clear word how many went back and how many made India their permanent abode. The country was magnanimous enough to pay Refugee Tax for their sake.
There is also an issue beyond the NRC. Even if the population of Assam cuts to size, what happens to the filtered 20 lakh people. New Delhi should engage with Bangladesh government to ensure that Assam does not take a leaf out of Kashmir with illegal migrants becoming majority population. It suits Bangladesh to see their population dwindling when that country is grappling with problems of plenty.
The resource-deficit Assam does not have economies of scale to match and its extremely porous borders is adding insult to injury, but successive governments have never shown the spunk to tackle the problem head on. The country could well be sitting on another Nellie-type massacre.