Devdas- nice Hindu boy as Hubb al Udhri hero?

Can a, middle class, Hindu boy be a Hubb al Udhri hero? 
 

If the middle class Bilgungsburgertum of present day India has a single Werther like figure- a doomed Romantic hero- then that hero is Devdas. Yet, unlike Werther, Devdas shows no affinity with Bildung- except in its comprador aspect of addiction to railway travel and (as satirised by Michael Madhushdhan Dutt in 'Ekei ki bale Sabhyta?') foreign liquor- indeed, Devdas can not be said to posess any character- other than that of an oafish overgrown village urchin- or any particular aesthetic or spiritual sensibility let alone political consciousness. Yet, while others abide our question- Devdas is immortal, generation after generation we Indians rediscover him and remake him in our image. Why? What is the story of Devdas? Reduced to its essentials, it is that of a rich man's son who can't marry Paro, his childhood sweetheart, because her family accept bride price while his exact dowry. Bear in mind, in Bengal at that period, Society had far less coercive power than it does today in some parts of the sub-continent- or even amongst the diaspora- where 'honour killings' are rife and Moms merrily threaten to commit suicide and Dads boisterously pretend to have heart attacks at the merest suggestion that their progeny might have ideas of their own regarding their bodies' bestowal. The fact is, as Sharat well knew, young lovers could defy convention eloping to Calcutta or Burma and live happily- & often more prosperously than if they'd remained as parasites on the joint family patrimony. Indeed, as Niradh Chaudhir records, even in the '20's and '30's there were young men so lost to shame as to come down to Calcutta to set up home quite openly with their own mothers-in-law! What makes Devdas's unheroic, Hamlet like, indecision even more puzzling is that Paro comes to him in the middle of the night to signal her willingness to elope with him- or even be kept as a sort of concubine!- but Devdas has not the courage to break with his family on this issue and sends her back. She then gets married to an even wealthier landlord- a widower with grown up children- at which point Devdas turns into a drunkard. The Maharaja of Cooch Behar, who had fallen in love with an English Music Hall star but was prevented from marrying her by his family, chose to quite deliberately drink himself to death a few years before the first publication of Devdas in 1917. In his case there was an actual, rather than purely sentimental impediment to be reckoned with- viz. the British Political Agent who would have elevated a cadet branch of the family to his throne- to the further ruination of his subjects- if he had persisted in his romance. In any case, I believe, Sarat wrote 'Devdas' almost twenty years previously, when his disgust with his mother's ultra-conservative (anti-Brahmo) joint family was at its height. Since Sarat was not himself a drunkard, and what's more soon developed a progressive outlook and political consciousness, we must conclude that Devdas's drunkeness has neither the aristocratic eclat of the Cooch Behari Raja- whose family were probably the most Anglicised- & certaily the most glamorous- amongst the Royals- nor is it the Nihilistic Neutron bomb of the disillusioned or Dalit poet- but rather it is merely a narrative device, a cover, to introduce the character of Chandramukhi- the dancing girl, the tart with a heart- who in caring for the doomed drunkard repents her way of life and returns to respectability.




Why is Chandramukhi important? Well, it is to give a Hindu twist to what might otherwise appear to be a debased version of the Hubb al Udhri romance where the hero- like Qais 'Majnun' keeps faith with the beloved Society prevents him from marrying- and, as in other narratives from that tradition- dies on the path to the beloved's house. A settled feature in Hindu romanticism is the presence of not one but two love interests for the hero. This is because Hinduism ultimately came to admit the inferiority of conventional piety and sittlichkeitas a soteriological path as against the complete rejection of orthodoxy, notions of 'shame' and 'decency', and ultimately even of sanity along the reckless & hysterical trajectory of a doomed obsessive love which by valorising only the haecceity of the beloved- or any trace thereof- seems, on the face of it, an outright rejection of the Monism taught by Vedanta. Doctrinally, the Hindus had to support this notion becasue they are committed to pluralism- the notion that there are many paths to the Lord. But, from the Western point of view, whereas the Hubb al Udhri tradition can be seen as admirable because it upholds the monogamous fidelity celebrated by their own Church (the bride of Christ- with no co-wives or divorce permitted!)- the Hindu notion of the nayak (hero) having two love interest seems nothing more than an amoral celebration of gallantry & sensuality. Sarat's genius is to get around this problem by subtracting the erotic element and turning the prostitute Chandramukhi into a self-abnegating provider of purely maternal care & concern. Thus- bearing in mind the Agamani genre which describes the day to day domestic give-and-take between the Mother Goddess Uma & her Mother Menaka- Paro's and Chandramukhi's loves become the mirror of each other- the girlish, self-willed & ultimately transgressive element in Paro's love set against the foil of Chandramukhi's sublimated, metanoiac, and

ultimately wholly beneficient love. Wider 

reading of Sarat's works helps us to catch the underlying ideological dimension or dhvani. Chandramukhi's care of Devdas should be understood as like the unconditional maternal love shown by the wronged sister-in-law in the joint family to the undisciplined rogue who beats her (vide Mamlar Phal) or the love of the prostitute for the neighbour's son in Amar Prem- in other words, by exhibiting the metanoiac potential of Society's 'insulted & injured' and by insisting that only this sort of bottom up Tikkun can repair the Social ethos, Sarat demonstrates that he is not lacking in political consciousness nor peddling escapist fiction based on some foreign model. On the contrary, he is renewing, adding  apoorvata to, the milliena old Indian tradition of (vide my, 'Reflections on Valmiki's breath blinded mirror') showing how the vatsalya of all beings to all beings- irrespective of false notions re. caste and 'morality'- is itself the foundation and supreme 


type of Ram Rajya. forthcoming picturization of another Sarat masterpiece.

The Naishadyacharitra- summarised in a couplet

Such glee as Damayanti's  not the world has seen

Since Nala cooked that goose, their go between

kranti ke pujari- worshippers of revolution

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Which poet wrote 'ban kranti ke pujari, siddhanth pe hatti/ bhar dil mein umang aur dimagh mein tatti"?

These lines from a film I saw on Doordarshan back in the 70's stuck in my mind for some reason. I thought it was from "Kranti' or some other Manoj Kumar flick from that period- but I recently reviewed my whole 'Mr. India' Video collection (I was transferring them to DVD) and couldn't find this song. Any ideas?

• 10 months ago

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Jennytig...

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I don't think so this could be lines from any Hindi film. The meaning of the lines- if you have put it down correctly- is ' become the worshippers of Revolution, obstinate on your principles/ Fill your heart with hope and your mind with faeces.
This is not a correct sentiment and would never have been broadcast by the State T.V network in the 1970's.
Probably, you heard these lines in some College skit or humorous mushaira.
Furthermore, the language is not so much of movie type or literate usage. Maybe such type of sentiments were expressed by Right wing peoples or satirists like (the Madrasi) Cho Ramsvami.
However, relevance of the couplet can not be denied. True revolutionary should always engage in night soil clearing for hygenic environment. Also, from practical point of view, filling mind with faeces does facillitate rapid rise in political power. However, this is a matter of Ancient Tradition just as much as of Modern Revolution. Indeed, sampoorna kranti- total Revolution- Revolution as living Tradition- can only be achieved by these means. Smearing of cow dung ash on forehead is just outward show. True religion is to fill mind with ****. However, aim must always be to bring about total Revolution. As Bible says 'Meek inherit some earth'. So Humility is key.

Incidentally, Manoj Kumar starrer 'Kranti' only came out in 1981.

• 10 months ago

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Celestial mysteries unravelled of Vikas Swarup's 'Six Suspects'

Slumdog Millionaire garnered 9 Oscars and straddled the divide between Hollywood and Bollywood.

Vikas Swarup's second novel- 'Six Suspects'- does more. It unites two different philosophical and literary traditions in a timely and uniquely positive manner.

'Six Suspects' is a tightly plotted novel which shows how people of the most diverse origin and status are nevertheless interconnected and mutually interdependent. This is a very old idea, at the heart of every Indian Religion or system of thought.

But, Swarup's characters are not related to each other by notions of caste- that is hereditary status defining mutual obligations and entitlements- nor is their relationship helpfully mediated by the Law or Religion or Government Institutions, or the gradients established by Wealth or Celebrity or Education- for, in Swarup's Universe, everything has already been corrupted, no Social process is not dysfunctional.

Indeed, even the Family- the father son relationship- is shown to have degenerated with the rising violence implicit in the inequites of the system.

What abides, however, in Swarup's Universe  is something purely metaphysical- a 'least action principle'- such that the working of chance is constrained to always maximize poetic justice by ironic reversal.

From the point of view of the detective novel, Swarup's  reliance on coincidence, rather than a deterministic dynamics based on the principle of sufficient reason, appears to be a weakness. Yet the ironic reversals that characterize the narrative arcs of the various characters have a psychological truth, an illumining and liberative power,  such that we readily acquit Swarup of  laziness or doctrinaire thinking.

The result is that Swarup's Universe- though operating according to a different logic from the world we inhabit- nevertheless tells us more about our reality than any merely realistic or polemical work. But, Swarup insists- by his final plot twist- it is not enough to illumine reality. The point is to change it.

Since 9/11- or, for middle class Indians, the Mumbai attacks- the illusion has been shattered that one is safe within the fallout shelter constituted by one's Wealth, or Education, or Nationality, or Celebrity, or Beauty, or the plain fact of one's Innocence. At the moment, we have perforce to rely on Governments to act together to re-establish the status quo ante. But, as this decade draws to its miserable end, we realize that Governments make things worse- are bound to make things worse- so long as we do not accept the bedrock fact of our radical mutual interdependence and alter our perceptions and expectations on that basis.

In the Mahabharata, one chapter of which is the Bhagvad Gita- we find a system of symmetries that conserve two fundamental principles- karma and dharma.

Karma- the law of cause and effect- is nothing but Swarup's poetic justice achieved by means of an ironic reversal. Karma defines the trajectory of the individual, but because it functions ironically- i.e. by pointing backwards to an underlying harmony that had been breached rather than providing data for the shaping of a pragmatic heuristics- its purpose is the inculcation of Wisdom rather than the accumulation of Knowledge.

Dharma- the path of righteousness- is what knits people together. What is the highest Dharma? It is to empathize with the other and adjust one's behavior accordingly. This is what happens in Swarup's 'Six Suspects'. People change or pay the price. Dharma is what redeems and delivers from the grip of karma.

The Bhagvad Gita deals with a difficult question. Why can't one simply stop the world coz one want's to get off? Why not simply say- "I'm done with this. I don't care any more. Rob me, cheat me, kill me- I don't care. I just won't play any more."
The Gita tells us that whether you act or refuse to act, there will still be consequences. Consequences you can't escape no matter which brand of Stoicism you cultivate.

One of Swarup's six suspects is a Screen Goddess who refuses to act in a porn film. But her refusal to act doesn't matter because her double acts in it anyway! Why does she have a double? Well, she felt pity for someone who looked so much like herself, trapped in the same sort of milieu as her own younger sister. In any case, it was so convenient. Thus, though, a reader of Neitzche, she lets her guard down- as we all let our guard down- for reasons of pity, but really convenience, and  this double we will always have with us- except, if we refrain from acting, the double acts and we become its shadow that Retribution seizes.

The Western reader may find nothing novel about the concept of  'the double'- Edgar Alan Poe, Doestoevsky and so on- however notice that Swarup is using the double in a wholly Indian way. Instead of rivalry- or the logic of Girardian 'mimetic desire' by which the double must die in order for the original to live- both or which the West is constrained to by its 'Final Judgement' Eschatology- Swarup shows us a way one can co-exist with the double. Indeed, one learns from that reflection to abandon one form of life to the other who desires it, so as to re-invent oneself- to be reborn, as is the Film Star at the end of Six Suspects.
Thus Vamadeva, in the Rg Veda, confronting his double- a scene as frightening as anything in Edgar Alan Poe!- nevertheless puts India on a different trajectory to that of the West.

Like most Indians, I have- in the past- had a prejudice against Indians writing in English as opposed to their mother-tongue. I suspect such people of showing off or desiring money or pushing forward some mischievous ideology.

Of course, if one's mother tongue is English, that is a different matter. But still, the fact that English is the language of those whose profession involves absorption in 'symbol manipulation'- operating at a  level several degrees removed from (though, perhaps, still founded on) the realities of an extraordinarily exploitative- or, if that is no longer so, then, still terribly inequitable- socio-economic system, means that you have a literature that is either aimed at the ex-Colonists or, merely, an elite pastime. It can not tackle head on- as opposed to by way of ideology or gesture politics- the question the vernacular literatures deal with- viz. how Morality- not to mention Spirituality- is still possible within a Lebenswelt founded upon injustice and violence.

Swarup is, by profession, a 'symbol manipulator'. Yet, because he uses the same principle of poetic justice as the Mahabharata, we can say his novel is truly Indian while, of course, being vastly entertaining and absorbing to a Western audience with no prior interest in India.

Perhaps, his scathing critique of Indian society- 30 years ago he would have been drummed out of the Foreign Service simply for suggesting there were poor people in India- is the natural consequence of his mastery of the principle of poetic justice. His understanding of karma has changed his own karma.

His situation parallels the great change in India whereby 'symbol manipulation', rather than being parasitic, has been established as the way to reverse the vicious circle of poverty whereby exploitation has to increases as poverty increases because of that very exploitation.
India has changed.
  Angrezi boli (English language) is no longer yoked to the Angrezi goli (English bullet) which permitted exploitation to increase exponentially and reduced vast classes of people to a sub-human status.

Arjuna's cakshushi vidya- structuralist analysis anyone?

from the Chaitraratha parva- Ganguli's translation
"The Gandharva replied, 'I have been vanquished by thee, I shall, therefore, abandon my former name Angaraparna (the blazing vehicle). In name alone, O friend, I should not be boastful when my pride in my strength hath been overcome: I have been fortunate in that I have obtained thee; O Arjuna, that wielder of celestial weapons! I like to impart to thee the power of (producing) illusions which Gandharvas alone have. My excellent and variegated chariot hath been burnt by means of thy fiery weapon. I who had formerly been called after my excellent chariot should now be called after my burnt chariot. The science of producing illusions that I have spoken of was formerly obtained by me by ascetic penances. That science I will today impart to the giver of my life-thy illustrious self! What good luck doth he not deserve who, after overcoming a foe by his might, giveth him life when that foe asketh for it? This science is called Chakshushi. It was communicated by Manu unto Soma and by Soma unto Viswavasu, and lastly by Viswavasu unto me. Communicated by my preceptor, that science, having come unto me who am without energy, is gradually becoming fruitless. I have spoken to thee about its origin and transmission. Listen now to its power! One may see (by its aid) whatever one wisheth to see, and in whatever way he liketh (generally or particularly). One can acquire this science only after standing on one leg for six months. I shall however, communicate to thee this science without thyself being obliged to observe any rigid vow. O king, it is for this knowledge that we are superior to men. And as we are capable of seeing everything by spiritual sight, we are equal to the gods. O best of men, I intend to give thee and each of thy brothers a hundred steeds born in the country of the Gandharvas. Of celestial colour and endued with the speed of the mind, those horses are employed in bearing the celestial, and the Gandharvas. They may be lean-fleshed but they tire not, nor doth their speed suffer on that account. In days of yore the thunderbolt was created for the chief of the celestials in order that he might slay (the Asura) Vritra with it. But hurled at Vritra's head it broke in a thousand pieces. The celestials worship with reverence those fragments of the thunderbolt. That which is known in the three worlds as glory is but a portion of the thunderbolt. The hand of the Brahmana with which he poureth libations on the sacrificial fire, the chariot upon which the Kshatriya fighteth, the charity of the Vaisya, and the service of the Sudra rendered unto the three other classes, are all fragments of the thunderbolt. It hath been said that horses, forming as they do a portion of the Kshatriya's chariot, are, on that account, unslayable. Again horses which form a portion of the Kshatriya's chariot, are the offspring of Vadava. Those amongst them that are born in the region of the Gandharvas can go everywhere and assume any
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hue and speed at the will of their owners. These horses of mine that I give thee will always gratify thy wishes."
"On hearing these words of the Gandharva, Arjuna said, 'O Gandharva, if from satisfaction for having obtained thy life at my hands in a situation of danger, thou givest me thy science, and these horses, I would not accept thy gift.' The Gandharva replied, saying, 'A meeting with an illustrious person is ever a source of gratification; besides thou hast given me my life. Gratified with thee, I will give thee my science. That the obligation, however, may not all be on one side, I will take from thee, O Vibhatsu, O bull in Bharata's race, thy excellent and eternal weapon of fire!'
"Arjuna said, 'I would accept thy horses in exchange for my weapon. Let our friendship last for ever. O friend, tell us for what we human beings have to stand in fear of the Gandharvas. Chastisers of foes that we are and virtuous and conversant with the Vedas, tell us, O Gandharva, why in travelling in the night-time we have been censured by thee.'
"The Gandharva said, 'Ye are without wives (though ye have completed the period of study). Ye are without a particular Asrama (mode of life). Lastly, ye are out without a Brahmana walking before, therefore, ye sons of Pandu, ye have been censured by me. The Yakshas, Rakshasas, Gandharvas, Pisachas, Uragas and Danavas, are possessed of wisdom and intelligence, and acquainted with the history of the Kuru race. O hero, I have heard too from Narada and other celestial Rishis about the good deeds of your wise ancestors. I myself, too, while roaming over the whole earth bounded by her belt of seas, have witnessed the prowess of thy great race. O Arjuna, I have personal knowledge of thy preceptor, the illustrious son of Bharadwaja, celebrated throughout the three worlds for his knowledge of the Vedas and the science of arms. O tiger in Kuru's race, O son of Pritha, I also know Dharma, Vayu, Sakra, the twin Aswins, and Pandu,--these six perpetuators of Kuru race,--these excellent celestials and human progenitors of you all. I also know that you five brothers are learned and high-souled, that ye are foremost of all wielders of weapons, that ye are brave and virtuous and observant of vows. Knowing that your understanding and hearts are excellent and your behaviour faultless, I have yet censured you. For, O thou of Kuru's race, it behoveth no man endued with might of arms to bear with patience any ill usage in the sight of his wife. Especially as, O son of Kunti, our might increaseth during the hours of darkness, accompanied by my wife I was filled with wrath. O best of vow-observing men, I have, however, been vanquished by thee in battle. Listen to me as I tell thee the reasons that have led to my discomfiture. The Brahmacharya is a very superior mode of life, and as thou art in that mode now, it is for this, O Partha, that I have been defeated by thee in battle. O chastiser of foes, if any married Kshatriya fight with us at night, he can never escape, with life. But, O Partha, a married Kshatriya, who is sanctified with Brahma, and who hath assigned the cares of his State to a priest, might vanquish! all wanderers in
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the night. O child of Tapati, men should therefore, ever employ learned priests possessing self-command for the acquisition of every good luck they desire. That Brahmana is worthy of being the king's priest who is learned in the Vedas and the six branches thereof, who is pure and truthful, who is of virtuous soul and possessed of self-command. The monarch becometh ever victorious and finally earneth heaven who hath for his priest a Brahmana conversant with the rules of morality, who is a master of words, and is pure and of good behaviour. The king should always select an accomplished priest in order to acquire what he hath not and protect what he hath. He who desireth his own prosperity should ever be guided by his priest, for he may then obtain ever the whole earth surrounded by her belt of seas. O son of Tapati, a king, who is without a Brahmana, can never acquire any land by his bravery or glory of birth alone. Know, therefore, O perpetuator of Kuru's race, that the kingdom lasteth for ever in which Brahmanas have power.'"

The tale of the Sheikh and the courtesan.

....now we are nothing, but at one time our qasbah had two ornaments- the humble Sheikh who, nonetheless, was the greatest Jurist of his time, and Noor, the courtesan, whose bewitching coquetry could not distract from the purity of her angelic voice.


Our qasbah  had an honest kotwal (police sergeant) whose plain dealing and blunt manner of speech had given offence to a certain coxcomb.


 That intriguer used his cunning to falsely accuse the kotwal and have him thrown in jail.


The Sheikh came to the policeman's rescue. He was acquitted and reinstated. Later, not just from gratitude, the kotwal begged and importuned the Sheikh to come for his daughter's wedding.


As part of the celebration, the Sheikh was forced to attend a performance by the courtesan, Noor. Thankfully, she did not play any of her tricks on this occasion, being wholly immersed in exploring the thematic complexities of the raaga (melodic pattern) appropriate to the hour. Nevertheless, the Sheikh- in an unobtrusive manner- was able to slip away at an early point in her performance.


The Sheikh never mentioned the singer again and, in any case, had never sought to gain a cheap sort of fame  by denouncing the wretched inhabitants of the Musician's quarter.


The courtesan, however, showed no such restraint. Clearly, she had recognized him in the audience- perhaps, by his white beard and nobility of countenance- and felt slighted by his decision to leave early.


The courtesan began to mock the old man and compose unflattering little couplets about him. So artful was she, such was her skill as a comedienne, that people enjoyed her sallies against the saintly Sheikh.


However, the courtesan was not content to let things stop there. The degrading nature of her profession meant that she had no compunction in dragging the most venerated of her fellow townsmen down to her own level- or, indeed, an even lower position- depicting the Sheikh a sort of simpleton, a moonstruck fellow.


Of course, no one dared mention such matters in front of the kotwal. His love for the Sheikh was well known. But, then, the debauched intriguer saw an opportunity to revenge himself on his old enemy.


That Acherontis pabulum came to the kotwal under a show of humble contrition and reported what the courtesan was saying about the Sheikh. The intriguer professed himself shocked and unable to decide how to proceed. 'Kotwal Sahib,' the intriguer confessed, ' you know very well of my wicked ways. My change of heart was entirely because of the Sheikh's influence. Yet, now I hear the courtesan mocking the Sheikh, my new found faith begins to falter. You tell me- what should I do?"


The kotwal became absolutely furious. He was determined to confront the courtesan. However, as a police officer, it was his duty to verify the complaint and gain damning evidence.


 He thought to himself- 'Women, speak more openly amongst themselves than they do to men. If the courtesan is really seeking to ridicule the Sheikh, her language to the women will be less moderate than that which she dares to use in front of men.'


Thus, the kotwal went to his wife and asked her about what the courtesan was doing. Seeing her husband's face, the woman's color changed. She said, "look here, if you go and kill that courtesan, the intriguers will say you did it because she refused your advances. You will be executed. Our family will be ruined. Let me deal with this matter. I will go and speak to her. Once she understands the danger in which she is in, she will immediately make a public recantation. She will compose songs in praise of our Sheikh. Wouldn't you like to hear such songs? Say what you like, she has the voice of an angel!"


The kotwal was mollified. In truth he wanted to hear her songs praising his beloved Sheikh.


His wife went to the courtesan. She warned that reprobate of the danger in which she stood. That little baggage gave her back-chat. Suddenly, the vain whore was claiming that her 'art'- itself nothing but lascivious display and an open advertisement for the sale of her body- was, nonetheless, on a level with the religious knowledge of the Sheikh!


The kotwal's wife was astounded. She beat and slapped and pulled the hair of that filthy slut. To no avail. Those creatures of the devil are strangers to shame. Also, they are expert play-actors. The courtesan now uttered some self-pitying speech about how blows and slaps had forced her into this filthy trade- but that 'mousike' had redeemed her! Does this sort of trashy Music really redeem? And who actually practices this 'art' save those predestined to Hell fire? That is why it is condemned by Scripture.


The kotwal's wife made one final effort. She said, "I go down on my knees to you. Please stop insulting the Sheikh. My husband will kill you. As a consequence, he himself will be executed. My children will starve. Have mercy upon those innocents."


The courtesan became quiet. She said- "I agree, on one condition. You yourself go, with your husband, in front of the Sheikh."
"Stop!" said the kotwal's wife, "I understand your plan! You want me to tell this whole story to the Sheikh. But let me tell you, not just my husband only, I too am his lover! I would prefer to see my own children put to death before my eyes rather than trouble that Saint with your ribaldry! "


"No," said the courtesan, "I don't want you to tell the Sheikh anything about all this. Just say to your husband, in front of the Sheikh, 'The courtesan, Noor, claims she loves the Sheikh ten thousand times more than any in this City. Can she be prosecuted for uttering a falsehood, or a slander upon pious men?'"


"Impudent baggage!" said the kotwal's wife, "still trying your low tricks! But this time you are destined to fail. I know, full well, the Sheikh will deliver honest judgement. He is incapable of error. He can never fall for your low wiles. I have no fear for him on that score. I will do as you ask."


Our qasbah had two ornaments. We lost both at the same moment. The moment our Sheikh heard his love was returned.
Since that fatal day when two funeral processions set out from our qasbah- one solemn and grand for the Sheikh, one furtive  and mean for the courtesan- our mourning has been continuous.


This tragedy should be set right. But, how is it to be done? Where now are there hearts as of the old days?


Science must come to the rescue for it too has two ornaments- viz. Socialist Egalitarianism  and Secular Rationality.
Let the Central Planning authority locate the proposed Union Carbide factory here and our qasbah of Bhopal will once again flourish.


(extracted and abridged, with the permission of Chief Conservator, National Archives, from a petition to, then President of India, Dr. Zakir Hussain.  There is a faded annotation in  red ink which reads-
                    غم نہیں ہوتا ہے آزادوں کو بیش از یک نفس 
             برق سے کرتے ہیں روشن شمعِ ماتم خانہ ہم
(Since Sorrow can tax the free no more than one breath
 Lightning's the lone candle we now light for a death!)

Thinking about the strange manner in which the courtesan's insults united her to her beloved- and reflecting, more generally, on the topic of the 'hangamah-e-khuda'- the whole commotion about God and Morality and, therefore, 'Freedom' and 'Equality' and so on- I feel increasingly uneasy in my mind. 

Especially as there is another couplet in the same ghazal by Ghalib quoted earlier.

                        باوجودِ یک جہاں ہنگامہ پیدائی نہیں    

                          ہیں چراغانِ شبستانِ دلِ پروانہ ہم

(Ours too is a world- but one barren to its own passion, tumult & wrath
 & we the nuptial taper of the heart's bed chamber of its moth!)

Levinas- deformalizing Time to achieve infinite droning on

Levinas is famous for calling ethics 'first philosophy' and giving it precedence over ontology, aesthetics and so on. However his ethical theory is cast in a (utterly shite) ontological language. He makes no attempt to follow Aristotle into a proper study of the logic of deontics- i.e. practical reason. He chose to remain ignorant of any method of studying reciprocity. Ultimately his instrumental value- as a sermonizer- was utterly vitiated by his failure to recognize that the other might actually belong to a different ethnicity or religion. In short, his was not an ethics, in any real sense of the words, but just bad ontology disguised as high falutin moralizing. He wasn't a great student of Halachah either- but always had some silly tendentious take on it which gave the impression he might actually be a saint far above the common run of humanity.

Levinas was not the first thinker to insist that Man's spirituality is founded upon the needs and vulnerabilities of the 'other'. As a matter of fact, no traditional religion has failed to make the same point- including the Mussar movement within Judaisim. However, Levinas was captivated by silly ontology, shallow politics, an illiterate history of ideas, and he totally failed to engage with a scientific theory of moral sentiments, a rational analysis of economics and politics- in other words the guy spent his entire life in an intellectual pig sty rolling around in that muck and then hollering that this aint ethics- it does not help the widow, the orphan, the stranger.
 The result of Levinas's failure to look at how using your brains can help other people- rather than get you a Professorship in a pigsty-  is that he got to propound an ethics which doesn't actually do any good to anyone ever. Rather it is all just a holier than thou mystification and wallowing in moral superiority- that crowds out genuine altruism and confuses every issue.
Never has so much intellectual attention been given to an ethical theory which has done fuck all to actually help anyone anywhere ever.
Yet Levinas is great. Why?
Well, by dedicating himself to 'deformalizing' time- rendering it multi-dimensionally infinite and dense with inconceivably high Cantor cardinality in the neighborhood of 'the Other'- Levinas has realized the ultimate ambition of every Creeping Jesus and Politically Correct windbag to crowd out everything in the Universe except the spectacle of his or her own quivering sensitivity and all round general wonderfulness- without, of course, doing anything for anyone ever.
Does this deformalization actually temporalize ethics? No, it removes any possible time limit on this limitless slavering over the wounds and vulnerabilities or 'the other'- who would be well advised to start shooting at the do-gooders coz being slavered over by those bleeding hearts is like painting a bullseye on your back. TO BE  LEVINAS'S OTHER IS A FATE WORSE THAN DEATH. To accept the role of the other is to destroy the basis of your self-respect and group cohesion. It is to bend over and drop your trousers. So what should you do? Shoot at the fucker if he comes near you.
Of course, in the context of the massacre of Palestinians in the camps in Lebanon, Levinas put forward the notion that these guys weren't 'the other'. Good for him. However bad things are for Palestinians at the moment- being 'the other' for a Levinasite would have destroyed their ethos for all time. Rather than being known as a hardworking people with a great commitment to higher education- they would be drunkards and prostitutes dying out from syphilis while periodically whining for handouts at International Conferences organized for the purpose of parading their decrepitude.
In attacking Levinas I mean no disrespect to the Judaism of the Rabbis- it was and is a practical creed- keep the pi jaw out of it and sooner or later an accommodation will be reached in the 'Holy Land'.
 The fact is, to really temporalise ethics is to....urm... to get involved, to negotiate, to do business, make friends, share a meal... like, get a life already. It isn't about erecting alterity into an altar to the God that is one's own infinite conceit in being Holier Than Any Guy That Ever Fucking Lived.
What on earth does caring for the Other have to do with writing crap books?
But what, if not writing crap books, is ethics about? Answer- it's about changing one's ethos- what one is for oneself- so that life becomes richer, fuller, more meaningful- MORE SPIRITUAL. Yeah God stuff. Nothing wrong with God. Nothing right about Levinas.