A NEW LOW FOR THE I.A.S

   There could be no better-if that is indeed the right word-  indication of the  progressive decay of the ethos of our civil services than a Facebook post this week by a very senior IAS officer of the Maharashtra cadre. One Manisha Patankar Mhaiskar, Addl Chief Secretary, in a very opportunistically timed post after the consecration of the Ram temple at Ayodhya, revealed how, as a probationer in Mussoorie she and some colleagues celebrated the demolition of the Babri Masjid on 6th December 1992 by distributing sweets and eating kesar pedas. It was, she adds, a "secret" meeting, perhaps revealing the conspiratorial nature of the meeting. (A sharp contrast to the very blatant manner in which she has now gone public- a sure measure of the changing times!). To further ingratiate herself with the powers in Delhi and Nagpur she also brought in the Bharat-India divide, by claiming that her group was from "small town India" and the Lutyen's Delhi types in the Academy did not share her sentiments. She had been issued a disciplinary notice by the Administration at that time but we are not aware of what happened to that. Presumably nothing, since she has been elevated to the rarefied heights of the Apex scale and clearly entertains even loftier ambitions. Her post has attracted a lot of attention on social media and a flutter in the IAS fold.

  What Ms Mhaiskar did 32 years ago should be of no relevance now, especially as she was a young probationer then, still sowing her wild oats. What her personal religious or political affiliation is presently should also be on no concern to us: she is certainly entitled to them as a free citizen of a (still) free nation. It is when she goes public with them, in the most brazen and don't- give- a- damn manner, that we should start worrying. The concern, therefore, should be that she has the confidence to publicly proclaim and reiterate those feelings in 2024, after having taken an oath to a (still) secular Constitution and having ostensibly served it for 32 years. There are a number of points to be noted here:

* A serving public servant is celebrating and applauding something which has been declared to be a crime by the Supreme Court. I am not talking here of what she did in 1992, but the fact that in her post she maintains that she holds the firm belief that what happened on the 6th of December, 1992, was "something powerful, something auspicious, something positive." In fact, she goes on to describe it as "seminal".

* By drawing a contrast between "small towns" and Lutyen's Delhi in a mocking manner she is again feeding into the right wing narrative that the idea of secularism is an elitist concept nurtured in the metros, and that it is  "small towners" like her who represent the true ethos of India. This is the kind of music the bhakts like to hear. (Incidentally, Ms Mhaiskar is no small towner- she comes from Nagpur, which has a population of 3 million and is the second capital of Maharashtra!).

* There is, in her post, an obvious ambiguity about her belief in pluralism and secularism. This does not sit well with the oath she took to uphold the Constitution of India.

* That she can publicly go on record with her feelings and beliefs with such aplomb and impunity clearly indicates that she is confident no action will be taken against her, unlike the notice issued to her in 1992. (She can, obversely, expect a lot of support on social media, a manifold increase in the number of followers. a few approving phone calls from Delhi, and envious glances from her colleagues who would be kicking themselves for not having thought of a similar strategem).

* The timing of the post indicates that Ms Mhaiskar's repeat epiphany is not a spontaneous Wordsworthian "my heart leaps up in delight" moment, but more a Shakespearean "a tide in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune" moment.  It appears to be a well thought out move; one could be excused for thinking that she has observed the rising tide in the Saryu river and decided to take the plunge. The conduct rules can wait.                                                                                                                              * * This well-timed confession is also a measure of the deterioration of our civil services. It is bad enough that more and more retired civil servants (not just the reemployed ones) and defense forces veterans are jumping on to the majoritarian band wagon, but it is now abundantly clear that the rot has spread even to the serving officers- this is an ill wind that can blow no good. For it is the apolitical, religion-neutral and non-partisan civil services and the army (not the politicians) which have held this country together for 75 years through wars, riots, changes of government and insurrections. Their capacity to continue to do so in the even more tumultous times ahead will be seriously eroded and comprised if they begin to align themselves with particular religious beliefs and political ideologies in their public life. A democratic government functions on the basis of trust between the public servants and the public, on the belief that civil servants are impartial and apolitical; once large sections of the public lose this trust, the efficacy of governance itself gets compromised.

  On the plus side, of course, Ms Mhaiskar has suddenly improved her chances of becoming Chief Secretary of Maharashtra, but she will have made a Faustian bargain to do so. I ,for one,  would not have much trust in the kind of administration she would be heading. My primary worry, however, is this: now that the sacred Lakshman Rekha has been crossed, will there now be a stampede by others to do the same, in the classic FOMO or lemming pattern?

OF SHANKARACHARYAS AND CAMERACHARYAS

 

  This last week has established that plumbing the depths of the ridiculous and the bizarre is not only our national pastime, it is also now the leitmotif of our society and ruling regime. The other day I decided I needed a "kurta", not one of those fancy and expensive Myntra creations, but something more befitting a pensioner who has not received his last four DA instalments because his state govt. has decided to buy cowdung and cow urine with the money instead in order to win elections. So off I went to the local market; there were kurtas aplenty but only in one colour- yellow. The shopkeepers told me that they were "jajman" kurtas, in honour of the Ram Mandir consecration next week! Which explains why we should not be too hard on the Chief Justice of India for turning up in a saffron kurta at a temple recently- he really had no choice of colour. The fact that this was preceded by the Supreme Court delivering a couple of disappointing judgments in favour of the government was, of course, merely a coincidence.

  Staying with the curious goings-on in Ayodhya, it appears that we now have a fifth Shankaracharya, located in Delhi- no wonder the original four are feeling threatened. The affairs of the Hindu faith shall no longer be conducted on the Collegium pattern  but on the Master of the Roster model: there are no "Kaun Banega Crorepati" prizes for guessing who this gentleman is. But one has to admit he fully deserves his pre-eminent position for his sheer gall and inventiveness, and the ability to smoothly sail over contradictions: the inauguration of the new Parliament building last year, which was patently a political occasion, was effortlessly converted into a religious event, while the consecration of the Ram Mandir, which should be a purely religious ceremony, has been converted into a mega political event! Politics and religion have been seamlessly blended into one supreme individual, very soon the Shankaracharyas too shall be dispatched to the Marg Darshak Mandal which does appear to be getting a bit top heavy. Actually, the four genuine Shankaracharyas should never have entertained hopes of presiding over the Mandir consecration, for an "ubermensch" like our venerated PM, who has never let a single train be inaugurated by the Railway Minister or an Expressway by the Transport Minister, was certainly not going to allow this spiritual thunder to be stolen from him by a couple of sulking saints.

   Or by a battered Constitution, for that matter, now on a ventilator under the Bharat Ayushman scheme. Article 370 may have been deleted in full public glare, but Article 27 (which prohibits the state from using the taxpayers' money for the promotion and maintenance of any religion) has been given the quietus, well, quietly. The icing on the "prasad" is the government's order declaring a half day holiday for all central govt. and PSU employees on the 22nd of January. By my calculations this shall cost the exchequer Rs. 250 crores. Expect these folks to go chanting Jai Shri Ram all the way to the local "theka" on the 22nd, and to the polling booth subsequently. I have no doubt that this holiday will now become an annual feature.

   And suddenly Ayodhya has become the El Dorado for our own remora-like corporates who have a remarkable resemblance to this species of fish that hang about the jaws of sharks for the crumbs: land prices have tripled, plans have been launched to build hotels, condominiums, malls, airports, old age homes, homestays to cater to the 40 lakh visitors expected every month. One airline, which has a reputation for locking up its passengers in its planes and airbridges for hours on end and serving them a-la-carte meals on airport tarmacs, converted its Ayodhya flights into morality plays, dressing up its crew in Ramayan costumes: the pilot became Ram, Sita and Laxman received the boarding passengers at the gate. There was no sign of Hanumanji-he was probably on another mission to set on fire that other impudent island which had the temerity to mock God's chosen One. The Disneyfication of Ayodhya is almost complete. Wait for Akshay Kumar a.k.a Akhand Kumar to make his next movie on it, just as soon as he finishes his prolonged genuflections to the powers that see, or for Amitav Bachchan's next quiz show Kaun Banega Shankarcharya ? 

   All those who laboured for years to make the Ram temple happen will, of course, not be there: this is in the best traditions of the bird after which our country may well be named now- in cuckooland, after all, the real work is done by someone but the credit claimed by someone else. And so the likes of Advani and Murli Manohar Joshi will not grace the occasion, the poor labourers who have given their blood and sweat for its construction will be kept miles away, the worshippers of the temple will be outside while the usurpers will be inside. But for me the unkindest cut is the non-invitation to that flag bearer of nari shakti, if not nari bhakti, from my state- Kangana Ranaut. Ayodhya could have done with her oomph, and her temporary absence from Himachal would also have had the beneficial effect of slowing down the melting of the glaciers there. Methinks the BJP has missed a trick here- it could have used her scholarship in history to get her to revise the date of Independence once again, to 22nd January 2024. What about the earlier announced date of 2014?, you may well ask; well that would now become the year of the Quit Thinking movement. But I can understand the Supreme Leader's quandary- even with all the AI tools at Mr. Amit Malviya's disposal he would have had a tough time keeping the cameras focused on the fifth Shankaracharya once the Rampaging Ranaut entered the frame. Algorithms have their limitations too, you know. A.I may be artificial, but its not stupid.

 [ NOTE: I believe that, subsequent to Ms Ranaut descending from the mountains like a furious torrent, she has now been invited to the consecration, and has been gushing about it all over social media. This is bound to strengthen her chances of getting a ticket from Manali for the ensuing elections, and this has the other hopefuls from there worried like hell. The Congress may consider putting up Sunny Leone from there if it hopes to stand any chance. ]  

BOOK REVIEW : THE MAN WE ALL FORGOT

                 

         NOWHERE  MAN

         AUTHOR- SHIVALIK BAKSHI              

         216 PAGES

        PUBLISHED BY PENGUIN VEER 2023  [Available on Amazon}

  This is a book about courage, betrayal and hope. It is a book about someone we all- the Army, the governments of the time, society, the media- forgot. All, that is, except his family, especially his two sisters, and this book is an attempt to keep his memory, and the silence surrounding his disappearance, alive. Captain Kamal Bakshi, a 25 year old officer of the 5 Sikh Battalion , was last seen on the 6th of December, 1971 at his command post 303 in the Chhamb sector on the border with Pakistan, surrounded by an enemy battalion, tanks bearing down on his post, his platoon decimated. Company Havildar Ajit Singh, who had been ordered by Bakshi to retreat back to HQ, turned round for one last look and saw the Captain leap out of his trench and rush towards the enemy, firing all the time with his Sten machine gun. Since then he has disappeared into the maws of officialdom, declared dead, or missing, or a POW at different times. All efforts by his family to uncover the truth about him- indeed, even if he is still alive at the age of 77- have petered out into the arid desert of bureaucratic indifference, stoic silence and impotent diplomacy. For officialdom he is just a faceless number on some file buried deep in an army cabinet. This book (by his nephew) is an attempt to reveal the face behind this number, the introverted boy who grew up in an army family, the young man who wanted to do his family and his country proud, a soldier who loved books and nature.

  Kamal Bakshi was born in Rawalpindi in undivided Punjab in 1946, studied in Dagshai and Sherwood College, Nainital, joined the NDA (National Defence Academy) and was commissioned into the Indian army in 1966. The author has given us a glimpse- it was a short life of just 25 years that he was dealing with, after all- of Kamal's life by interviewing his family, school friends, course mates, colleagues and superior officers. The picture we get is of a young man with extraordinary- sometimes contradictory-  traits: studious, fond of reading. a nature lover, adventurous (he once walked from Chandigarh to Shimla), a fitness freak with a spartan lifestyle, a man who loved challenges and would never give up. generous and giving to a fault- travelling on a train one bitterly cold night, he just gave away his sleeping bag to a shivering co- passenger who had none. Born into an army family (his father was a Colonel) he was always destined for the defence forces, his first choice was the Air Force but poor eyesight did not allow that. 

  Kamal Bakshi was initially declared killed in action and was also posthumously awarded a "mention in despatches", but subsequently, partly due to the unceasing efforts of his father, was categorised as "missing in action". In 1978, during the course of a statement in Parliament, the Minister of State for External Affairs admitted that he was secretly being held in captivity by Pakistan. The latter, of course, does not admit it, but the author speculates that Pakistan had probably held back the names of six or seven Indian POWs from the International Red Cross in 1972-74 when the exchange of prisoners took place. It apparently did so as an insurance against India (which had captured 90000 POWs in Bangladesh) acceding to the Bangladesh demand to hand over about a hundred Pakistani soldiers and officers to stand trial for atrocities committed. Ultimately, of course, this demand was dropped on the condition that Pakistan recognize this new country, which it did. But Pakistan has never accepted that it had given an incomplete list of POWs, or that some still remain in its jails. India's frosty relations with the country do not make it easy to negotiate a solution to this vexed issue.

  But the issue of the missing Indian POWs, including Captain Bakshi, in Pakistani jails continues to haunt their families. Anecdotal evidence continues to surface from time to time of their presence in Pakistani jails. These include notes and letters smuggled out by some POW; one such letter by a Major Suri to his father from a jail in Karachi mentions that there are a total of twenty Indian POWs in that jail. An ordinary Indian criminal who had spent ten years in a Pakistani jail, told Indian officials when he was repatriated in June 1978 that he had met an Indian army officer named Kamal Bakshi in jail. There are even reports and eye witness accounts that Pakistan had sent some Indian POWs to Oman, but  neither the Indian nor the Oman governments have ever confirmed this. 

  Kamal's parents have since passed away, waiting for their only son to somehow, miraculously, come walking down the driveway of their house in remote Mcluskieganj in Bihar. His sisters, Kiki and Niki, continue to pursue efforts to find out the truth about the soldier his country forgot, to attain that closure which has eluded them for the last 55 years. Successive Indian governments seem to have given up on our missing POWs even as they vigorously pursue extraditions of criminals and hunt anti-nationals abroad; even if a fraction of these resources and energy were to be spent on tracing out our missing soldiers it would provide comfort to their grieving families. A soldier, if alive, has the right to be acknowledged and protected by his nation, and if dead, the right to an honourable grave in his own country. This is all the closure that his sisters and friends want. They somehow hold on to the assurance given by the Buddha:

"Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth."

YOU DON'T LIVE ONLY ONCE

 The other day I came across these haunting lines by the poet Rumi:

"Death has nothing to do with going away. The sun sets, and the moon sets, but they are not gone."

There is the promise of (for want of a better word) immortality here, and this set me off on a path of recollection and reflection, as such words are wont to do at my age. A couple of incidents in my personal life came to mind, which may give some tangible meaning to Rumi's thoughts; this piece explores this idea.

About 15 years ago, a tree fell on me in the middle of a severe snow storm in Shimla. I suffered grievous injuries but survived, after months of hospitalisation. While I was laid up, my wife (in the tradition of all good Indian wives) went to consult a very learned gentleman who is internationally respected for his ability to read horoscopes and divine the future. After studying my horoscope for a few days he told her that I would recover completely, that the falling tree had actually saved my life by averting a bigger accident. He explained that at the time I was under the influence of "markesh dasha", a celestial arrangement (in Vedic literature) in which death is almost certain. But it's what he went on to say further that is the trigger for this blog: that nature would never harm me because in my previous birth I had been a mendicant in these very same Himalayan forests, and had lived and died among these trees. (For the record, I had never been to Himachal before 1976, when I joined my training at Shimla).

 Fast forward to six months later, when I had started to walk again, with the help of braces and a stout stick. Neerja and I decided that, as my first trial, we would drive to Hatkoti (about six hours above Shimla) and walk from there to a holy place called Giri Ganga,  five kms away through a thick forest. The locals regard this place almost as highly as Haridwar, and it is where the ashes of their loved ones are immersed in the stream that flows there. Neither of us had ever been there before, but as we neared Giri Ganga I just KNEW that I had been there before. I started telling Neerja what lay beyond every bend before us, where the prayer platforms were located, where the bridge would cross the stream, where the little temple was- all long before we had even set eyes on them! Neither of us could explain this, but the words of the wise guru in Shimla came to mind. And now Rumi, and some reading on this subject, the results of which I would like to share with the reader.

  Literature is now emerging about the continuance of life after death, and the influence of our past life experiences on our present behaviour. This is being made possible by a fairly new discipline in psychiatry called hypnosis regression therapy  where the psychiatrist takes the patient, under deep hypnosis, back to his or her past life, to reveal hidden details and facts which could have a bearing on his/her present life. There is a second strand to this mysterious phenomenon- the "near-death" or "out of body" experience (NDE), where the person medically dies, leaves the body but returns to it to live on because his ordained hour has not yet come. I find these allusions to previous lives and the twilight zone utterly fascinating, comforting and disturbing at the same time.

 There are quite a few books on this subject now, by authors (usually psychiatrists) such as Dr. Melvin Morse, Paul Perry, Jenny Randles, Peter Hough, Denise Linn, Jenny Cockell; but the book which is the gold standard on after-lives has to be Many Lives, Many Masters by Dr. Brian Weiss. Weiss's book is a years long study, carefully documented, of the many lives lived by one of his patients, Catherine. In her sessions with the doctor she recounts, with startling detail, as many as 17 of her previous lives, spread over many centuries. For those who find it difficult to believe this, let us remember that just about every major religion postulates some form of reincarnation or rebirth, whether on this earth itself or on some plane called Heaven, Paradise, Jannat, or whatever. Reincarnation and the in-between planes are integral tenets of the Jewish Kabbalistic literature, which are hundreds of years old. Why then should we be surprised that the experiences of a few individuals seem to corroborate something we implicitly believe in, or at least do not question as part of our religions?

  The first window to the "other world" is provided by those who have experienced NDE, and these experiences are remarkably similar: they all report leaving their body, hovering over it and observing the events below with detachment, feeling a sense of panic, anxiety, temporal and spatial distortion, moving towards a bright light, and then being asked by a hooded figure- "elders" or "masters" according to Catherine in Weiss's book- to return to their body because it is not yet time for them. According to a 2005 article by a French psycho-analyst, Chris French "Near death experience represents evidence of the immaterial existence of a soul or mind, which leaves the body upon death, and provides information about an immaterial world where the soul journeys after death."

  It is this "other" or "immaterial" world which Weiss and the others explore and document in excruciating detail with their patients. One remarkable experience, common to all NDEs, is that some souls leave the body temporarily but are told to return because they have not yet completed the "learning" process: they can cross over to the celestial other world only when this process is complete. This aligns very well with the Hindu belief of birth and rebirth, in which the soul or "atma" undergoes a series of births till such time it is completely purified and purged of all negativity, and only then can it become one with the "Brahmand", ending the cycle of birth and death with its entry into "Swarg" or Heaven. It also corresponds nicely with the concept of Purgatory in Christianity, where the soul undergoes a phase of expiatory purification to cleanse it of its sins and make it ready for entry into Heaven.

  It would appear that people are quite often reborn in the same place and social milieu where they existed in their previous life (though this is not necessary every time). Catherine confirms this to Dr. Weiss and identifies many persons in her present life as persons she recognizes from many of her previous lives. Does this explain the feeling of "deja-vu" people sometimes experience when they meet someone for the first time but feel that they have met before, or go to a new place and feel that they have been there before? (Like my experience in Giri Ganga). I don't know, but it is strangely comforting to learn (or believe) that we can, after death, rejoin those loved ones who have gone before us.

  The subject of the after life is an intensely personal thesis and a matter of belief, but it IS one where science and religion appear to be converging as we continue to learn more about it from the experiences of people like Catherine. For me the primary lesson from these books is twofold : One, Death is not the end of life, the soul is the eternal traveller. Two, respect that fateful moment when the soul of someone you love transitions from the material to the spiritual state, for this is a moment of intense trauma, confusion and apprehension for the soul : it is leaving the familiar and heading for the unknown. It needs our support, love and warmth at this terminal moment- sit with the body, hold its hand, murmur words of love and care- the body may be without life but the soul is still very much there, reluctant to leave on its final journey. Do not run around, shouting and screaming, or making phone calls or summoning relatives. There will be a time for that. But right then create an ambience of calm, of serenity and quietude, make it easier for the departing soul to leave, not more difficult.  Stay with it, in mind and body, till the end, for it is not the end; you will probably meet again in another life.

  As a wise man said: We are not human beings going through a spiritual experience, we are spiritual beings going through a temporary human experience.