There is so much devastation and despair around us. Where do we find hope?
Over the past several days, I have been watching the videos put out by the Karwan-e-Mohabbat team and reading articles by my friend Natasha Badhwar. The brief videos made by this group are love letters to the improbable and richly complex republic. Small instances that capture the wonderful diversity of lived experiences—slightly clichéd, yes, but more and more necessary in the context of contemporary politics. For example, a Muslim man in Kunra town in Chhattisgarh, who proudly performs each year in Ramleela. These are important documents of culture because they demolish dominant divisive narratives about segregated religions and separate social existence of the nation’s citizens. The country’s democratic ethos has been built through the sacrifices of so many people! And in so many touching ways! I found most moving this video of the academic Mahavir Narwal who died from Covid while his daughter Natasha, a brave activist from the feminist group Pinjra Tod, had been put in prison for her work on the behalf of the discriminated. (“I’ll say that dissent is a decent act… So wherever there is suffering, you will find my daughter there.”) Another example, the firm resolve and fiery poetics of the young performer Aamir Aziz. One of the strengths of the work done by the Karwan-e-Mohabbat team is that it doesn’t simply showcase the voices of those we all know and celebrate as our gifted intellectuals; the team is alert to many yearnings and also the wisdom of those whose voices are routinely marginalized, even mocked, by self-important and servile television anchors. In this context, my favorite video ever put out by Karwan-e-Mohabbat is one showing kite-sellers in old Delhi around Independance Day. One of the kite-sellers asks: “If we segregate according to religions, will Hindus and Muslims begin to fly separate kites? It is easy to call oneself an Indian. Much harder to live up to it.” Such truth-telling! I’m thinking of these videos as pedagogical tools. I want to screen them on campuses and start a dialogue with young viewers in Patna, in Pune, in Cochin, in Kanpur. Is this the India that you know from watching Aaj Tak or from your WhatsApp forwards? Which one is the real India? Which India is the one you want to see in your future? Most important, how can you work to protect the India that you cherish? Another video I liked very much shows the academic Apoorvanand. It appealed to me because I am a teacher and I also believe in literature and its power to shape our world. The video begins with footage of Gandhi walking in the Indian countryside and we hear his sibilant voice: “In the midst of death, life persists. In the midst of untruth, truth persists. In the midst of darkness, light persists.” Amen!
Here is an important piece by Natasha Badhwar on the work of Karwan-e-Mohabbat. (A link to Natasha Badhwar’s SubStack.) I spoke to her by Zoom earlier this week and we talked about the importance of building archives that not only offer witness and accounts of unnoticed tragedies but also tell the stories of great resilience among our people and their courage in truth-telling. At the end of our conversation, during which she narrated how so many in her group have been hauled in front of the government’s investigating agencies, Natasha offered this observation: “It’s very close, you don’t know who’s next. And yet, when we have conversations, again and again we come to the realization that if you want to stay safe, if you want your life to mean anything, you must make your voice stronger instead of allowing others to push you into silence.”