TELEVISTA
Nehru and Obama
Amita Malik

THE emergence of an African-American as the US President-elect has had amazing reactions all around the world. People sat up in Paris, as we did in India, to watch the election results come in. In far-off Kenya, his country cousins sang folk songs and performed traditional dances to celebrate.

Following on Obama’s victory, an enterprising Indian channel posed the inevitable question. Could there be an Indian Obama? The distinguished panel thought not, certainly not from contemporary Indians. But I think it was panellist Ramachandra Guha, who said that from the past we certainly had Jawaharlal Nehru. Personally speaking, I agree emphatically. He was sophisticated, but a man of the masses. He came from a rich, privileged family. He gave up privileged life to join the freedom movement and go to prison.

But Nehru made use of the lack of activity in prison to write some memorable books. I remember because I was then in Delhi. When communal disturbances broke out, he jumped into the crowd just outside Delhi’s Regal cinema and literally lashed out at those who were attacking the weak. One feels sure Obama would do the same.

In Kenya Obama’s country cousins sang folk songs to celebrate his victory	Nehru made use of the lack of activity in prison to write some memorable books

But in the middle of all the political speculation, a small question has cropped up. How will Obama, his wife and two small daughters adapt themselves to living in the White House? The media reminds us again and again that he had promised one of his daughters a puppy after the elections. Now America wants to know what breed she will choose. Poor child. That is what life in the White House will mean.

In the middle of all this international hoo-ha, we are getting a lot of Indian trivia of the most disturbing kind. A man said, without batting an eyelid on TV, that he killed his two sisters for the izzat of his parivar because they had run away from home.

Then there was yet another example of a young boy falling down into a well, and this time dying before any rescue efforts could be put into place. Then, to add to our experience of TV horror, one channel showed over and over again a car catching fire in the Capital and the agonising cries of the two men trapped inside, who kept on shouting bachao, bachao as their doors got jammed and they were slowly charred to death. It might have mesmerised watchers but I could not help feeling the utmost pity for their near and dear ones, who watched it too.