Dilly*

Outside of being an anagram of my least favorite South Indian dish, Dilly is an alternate way to spell the city that I have come tumbling into, as fate would have it, two weeks after I had found a brand new cozy apartment overlooking a lake in the middle of (the Northern part of) Mumbai City.

Some people adore the place they come from; the games played at twilight till the ball wasn't visible anymore, the net-less, boundary-less, time-less badminton matches on the traffic-less road, the effortless victory in short-put and long jump tournaments conducted by the society at 4:00 in the morning all become colourful fragments of a wistful memoir for them. 

Indeed, such was life for me at 4-M (the Bungalow in Trivandrum my sister and I grew up in), where we had the road to ourselves, and were shielded by the coconut trees, the mango tree and the jack fruit tree. 

My earliest best-friends are from Trivandrum, girls I wrote Enid Blyton-inspired, extremely original novels with (about kids on an adventure by themselves in a castle with a dog; write to me if you want a copy). I'm sharing with you here, the journal entry from exactly fifteen years ago, to give you an idea of the wistful memoir that I talked of earlier. This happens to be the day I met one of the afore-mentioned best-friends.

September 13 1998, Trivandrum

There is this new girl in school who thinks she is Lata Mangeshkar. She was also showing off that one of her cutting teeth fell off. She conducted a ceremony to tie her tooth with thread and bury it in the mud. I have teeth falling off every week, with no scene being created. We spoke for the first time in the afternoon, during the finals of the singing competition. She got first prize. I got consolation prize. I will not sing the Titanic song next time.

Years later, when she qualified for the finals of a national level singing competition to be conducted in a different city, we were best friends and she wouldn't travel without me in the choir. I haven't really found where my true talent lies, but I have, over performing on stage through the merit of my persuasion or my friend's coercion, at various instances starting from The Patriotic Song presented to the Governor of Kerala to the Miss Chennai Times contest while at college, concluded where it certainly does not. 

I have digressed. I began this narration by saying that some people adore the place they come from. For me, however, it has always been the people that stick out and the place just happens to be a floating, fleeting (alliteration intended) background in my picturesque memory.  

When I was asked if I would move to the Country's capital, I packed my bags (forgot my furniture) and left. Almost all the time I have been in Dilly, (it's been over a month), I have been working. There are few things in the world as refreshing to the mind and as enriching to the spirit of the ambitious as the sense of pure, unadulterated work-time; yet, I find myself looking up from my laptop between the endless hours of pouring over well diagrams with a flickering hope of chancing upon a kindred spirit like the toothless friend I met this day fifteen years ago. 

*dil·ly

  [dil-ee]  Show IPA

noun, plural dil·lies. Informal.

something or someone regarded as remarkable, unusual, etc.

I ban because I can? Perhaps Not.

I haven't watched Vishwaroopam yet, since I live in Bombay and I cannot bring myself to watch a Kamal Hassan movie in Hindi. In the light of recent events though, I have decided to voice the rather contrary-to-public opinion I have in the matter. 

Most forward thinking, liberal minded friends of mine feel very strongly about freedom of speech, and find the ban on this movie in Tamil Nadu or Satanic verses in India unacceptable. I understand their perspective; I hope they do mine. 

I know that many of you intelligent people reading this might associate the ban of a movie or a book with us moving towards an Orwellian state. To the uninitiated, 1984 is a book by the English author George Orwell in which he describes the existence of a society that is controlled and manipulated by the State entirely. The Orwellian state has come to refer to a form of governance that systematically challenges freedom of speech and denies it's people's right to (any form of) intellect through manipulation of the truth. 

I see your fear, I raise you mine. 

When Asaram Bapu made the following comment on the rape victim, "She should have called them brothers and begged them to stop" [1], I was aghast at how a person can make such a statement. I was horrified, and indignant. I could throw up over his words, his insensitive remarks, and the hurt he caused thousands of rape victims. One person's freedom of speech might be another person's death note. 

I must pause to clarify. I am not trying to compare apples and oranges. I have a cause here. I need to establish a firm case where we see the need to define what "freedom of speech" is. When someone puts Lord Ganesha's pictures on a toilet seat, is that not their freedom of expression? Why is it that it is okay, then, for thousands of protesters to overthrow the company's right to print whatever they want on their products? 

It becomes all the more significant when the person/medium making a statement or depicting an idea is influential. A movie or a book or a famous person has a reputation that can affect the way people think and act. To that effect, with power does come responsibility.

Let's be open-minded.

We, as a country, over the centuries, have seen thousands of innocent lives being taken in religious conflicts. The soil we tread upon is still wet in parts, over the blood we have spilt over hurting religious sentiments, attacking places of worship, and assassinating political and religious leaders. 

I must digress a bit. "The rapid growth of India's mining industry in the mineral-rich states has escalated the Maoist insurgent movement. To effectively address this security threat, India must also address, through mining and environmental regulation, the grievances caused by the exploitation of tribal and lower-caste locals in mining areas who serve as the insurgency's base." [2]

What I learn from insurgency and the way it works is this fundamental concept. You cannot have a section of your people feeling antagonized/exploited/hurt and expect them not to retaliate. Their retaliation is often unjust, illegal, and downright inhuman. It has to be curbed. Killing of innocent lives is crime against humanity, and cannot be justified in any manner.

But this happens and I'd be a fool and a murderer to ignore it. 

I am twenty two years old now. I hope to be able to live in India when it is free from hypocrisy. When people can say whatever they want, and nobody's feelings are hurt as a result. And if somebody does find something someone said or portrayed objectionable, they have a peaceful way of protesting without killing my kids on their way to school. 

Trust me when I say I join you in that dream. But until then, while I cannot ensure that people retaliate to their feelings of religion, sex or tribe being hurt in a peaceful and calm manner, I can only see sense in not hurting people's sentiments in the name of freedom of expression. 

Clarification: I am NOT advocating that the Government should take a weak stand every time some issue comes up where some group of people might have their sentiments hurt. In fact, there are times the Government ought to take a strong stand, to send out a message that it is Wrong to resort to violent means to express your disapproval over something being said or shown. 

My only point is that there ARE circumstances when a Government can take a call to ban something because it will create a law and order problem so fierce and widespread that the police forces cannot contain it, and innocent people might be killed/hurt in the process.

[1] http://www.indianexpress.com/news/asaram-bapu-holds-girl-responsible-for-delhi-gangrape-says-spare-the-rapists-slams-media/1055639/

[2] http://www.stimson.org/spotlight/mining-and-the-maoists/