O P I N I O N S

Touchstones
Memories and memoirs of the moment
Unless the author keeps a certain moral compass in mind when writing of personalities and writes of a larger historical framework, memoirs are of little significance beyond the first few weeks.
Ira Pande
this week has to be about books and their writers. Barely had we taken in the contents of Sanjaya Baru’s book than another book-bomb was upon us: ex-Coal Secretary Parakh’s memoirs. While the ex-media adviser to the PM had telling accounts of the various occasions when the Congress Party deliberately undermined the position of the country’s Prime Minister, Parakh’s memoirs had a tell-all section on the controversial and notorious coal block allocations. In both books, the authors had pulled no punches when they accused various eminent political leaders of wrongs and transgressions.

last word: Gulzar
For all that lives in a heart, he has a word
The lyricist’s detractors question his strange, even bizarre, choice of words. But the same criticism is turned around by admirers to say "only Gulzar can invent such  new words."
By Nonika Singh
Over the phone he sounds like a man in a hurry, impatient to the point of being brusque, who clearly has no time for what he sees as irrelevant queries.

GROUND ZERO
Nuclear doctrine not matter for fiddling
By loosely talking of “revising” the nuclear doctrine that Vajpayee’s government had enunciated, the BJP raised an unnecessary controversy. Modi was wise to clarify that he was not for altering the ‘no first use’ posture.
Raj Chengappa
Tucked away towards the end of the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) manifesto for General Election 2014 was an innocuous sub-paragraph titled “India’s Strategic Nuclear Programme”, which has been the subject of much controversy since the BJP released the document a fortnight ago.

Touchstones
Memories and memoirs of the moment
Unless the author keeps a certain moral compass in mind when writing of personalities and writes of a larger historical framework, memoirs are of little significance beyond the first few weeks.
Ira Pande

this week has to be about books and their writers. Barely had we taken in the contents of Sanjaya Baru’s book than another book-bomb was upon us: ex-Coal Secretary Parakh’s memoirs. While the ex-media adviser to the PM had telling accounts of the various occasions when the Congress Party deliberately undermined the position of the country’s Prime Minister, Parakh’s memoirs had a tell-all section on the controversial and notorious coal block allocations. In both books, the authors had pulled no punches when they accused various eminent political leaders of wrongs and transgressions.

Sanjaya Baru, former media adviser to PM.

In the hurly-burly of electioneering, the two books must have come as a godsend for the opposition parties. However, truth be told, the Congress (the party in the dock in both cases) has done itself more harm in the way it has handled the onslaught. In fact, given the ammunition contained in these accounts, the political attack from the opposition could have been sharper and more damaging. Perhaps this may be due to the fact that everyone (including the media) has written off the Congress as a credible opponent at the polls, or to the fact that there is nothing in Baru’s revelations about the two power centres that was not already widely known. As for Parakh, anyone who has known the man has endorsed his integrity.

What, then, makes these two books so significant? The first, to my mind, is that they introduce a note in memoir-writing that can become a disturbing trend in the future. Thus far, when bureaucrats wrote memoirs, they kept in mind the covenant they mentally sign with the State when they assume office: the oath of secrecy. This has kept the political arena in India reasonably clean so far of personal attacks and score settling. By the way, this is perhaps also why most memoirs make for terribly boring reading! However, unless the author keeps a certain moral compass in mind when writing of personalities and writes of a larger historical framework than his own personal confrontations with politicians, memoirs are of little significance beyond the first few weeks or months.

Both these books (released by their canny publishers at a politically opportune moment) have been so eagerly snapped up that every bookstore in Delhi has run out of copies and I have not been able to procure a copy so far. However, as someone who has written a memoir, I think I can speak with some confidence of some troubling struggles I had with my own conscience when writing a memoir about my mother. I wanted to be truthful but I also did not wish to hurt any of the characters I had to include in her story. These were often the people most close and dear to me: my own siblings and aunts. The chapter on my parents gave me the most grief: I was privy to a side of their relationship that was well hidden from the larger family but if I avoided the hard bits, I would be untruthful and if I included them they would sully the memory of the people I held in high esteem. All Indians are brought up to be respectful of their parents: rare is the author who has dared to write as some American and European writers have of their families and parents.

I got around the problem by taking it head on: I wrote of them as I remembered my childhood and somehow the words just flowed. Seen from the perspective of a child, my parents seemed so different from the adult memories I had constructed around them. Several readers later told me how moved they had been when reading that chapter, so obviously I had managed to preserve my love for them without painting them as paragons. The other precaution I took was to circulate the manuscript among my siblings and close friends. This resulted in their whole-hearted support rather than in hurt recriminations later.

I feel strongly that if only Baru had sought the Prime Minister’s permission to write so freely of him, it would make me respect him more. Since the characters in the book are living and still hold office, there is also the troubling question of ethics involved in exposing them without giving them an opportunity to present their side of the story. Why Baru chose to go ahead without these basic decencies in place is a question only he can answer but it has led to charges of political expediency, personal score-settling and a moral cowardice against him. This does him and his reputation as a well-regarded political commentator no good. There is a life beyond elections and their outcomes after all.

A final word on the death of a true literary giant may place the preceding words in the right framework. All newspapers today have carried obituaries of a writer who was also at heart a political chronicler. ‘Gabo’ Marquez remained a journalist even when he received acclaim as a novelist par excellence. His despatches on Latin America (translated into countless languages) and read throughout the world established him as an uncompromising liberal and upholder of human rights. The same concerns gave his novels that special dimension that made even the most mundane stories of simple folk into mythologies for the modern reader. That, my dear readers, was a writer: the others are just hacks.

last word: Gulzar
For all that lives in a heart, he has a word
The lyricist’s detractors question his strange, even bizarre, choice of words. But the same criticism is turned around by admirers to say "only Gulzar can invent such new words."
By Nonika Singh

Over the phone he sounds like a man in a hurry, impatient to the point of being brusque, who clearly has no time for what he sees as irrelevant queries.

For distant observers, Gulzar is not an easy man to decode. To nosey journalists he might even seem curt, someone who will cut them off when he wants to. However, those who know him better swear by his childlike smile and innocence, his gentle 'poet at heart' being.

Sandeep Joshi

While your view of him may depend on the vantage point, Gulzar remains a man of exceptional talent and versatility. The renowned lyricist and poet has everybody in a thrall, common listener and critic alike. If you love poetry you can't but love Gulzar. And who can grudge the maker of heartfelt films like "Parichay" and "Koshish", and writer of lilting songs such as "Aaj kal paon zameen par" and "Mera kuchh saaman", the highest cinematic honour, Dada Saheb Phalke Award, for which he was chosen recently.

Of course, awards have been a given in his amazing journey that began with "Bandini". The mother of international honours, Oscar, has preceded the Dada Saheb Phalke Award. But he considers the Phalke award a bigger honour, and not just because being recognised by your own people is more gratifying. He says, "Let's not forget that an Oscar is only for one song, while the Dada Saheb Phalke Award is for the entire body of work."

His having received them all (several National Awards, nearly 20 Filmfare awards, besides the Sahitya Akademi Award), one may wonder what can awards possibly mean for him now? But Gulzar is not dismissive of the honours and considers each a reaffirmation of his being on the right track. Between people's love, which he has received aplenty, and the long list of honours, including the Padma Bhushan, he can delineate no difference.

Are Gulzar the film lyricist and Gulzar the poet one and the same? Yes and no. Both are marked by a heightened sensitivity and sensibility. And both are replete with a vivid imagery that is lyrical, and as grounded in everyday life as it is out of this world — real and surreal at the same time. But he points out a critical difference. Poetry is his personal statement on life, while songs are commissioned work.

Songs may be for a script, but the beauty of his film lyrics is equally breathtaking. Popular singer Sukhwinder, who has lent his voice to many of Gulzar's songs, including the Oscar winning "Jai Ho", says he feels enriched each time he renders a number penned by Gulzar Saheb. He doesn't hesitate in calling him a "Darvesh", and puts him in the same league as Baba Bulle Shah and Shah Hussein.

Gulzar has his share of detractors too, who often question his strange, even bizarre, choice of words. But the same criticism is turned around by admirers to say "only Gulzar can invent such new words." They swear by his evocative artistry.

Even more remarkable has been his ability to stand steadfast amid winds of change. He puts it simply, “If you are in sync with the times so will be your words.” Thus the delectable item numbers such as “Bidi jalaile” and “Kajra re”.

Gulzar says songs are dovetailed to a film's demands and one song can't be transposed on to another setting. "Dil to bacha hai" can't substitute for "Beedi jalaile"! Songs like "Mora gora ang lai le, mohe sham rang dai de" can still be written, only if they would make films that can carry them. Having directed memorable films such as “Aandhi”, “Maachis” and “Angoor”, Gulzar says he has given up filmmaking for good.

Writing is where his heart is. But right now it also goes where his grandson does. Beaming, he admits to the unparalleled joy of being a grandfather. Of course, he also makes it clear that his personal life is nobody's business. Daughter Meghna, though, has already revealed quite a bit of it in a biography of his that tells us among other trivia that his kurta-pyjamas are so starched that they often tear.

He was born as Sampooran Singh Kalra in Dina, Jhelum district, now in Pakistan. His self-effacing, understated demeanour often has people flummoxed, as many take him for a Bengali.

So is there anything distinctively Punjabi about him? For one he has penned several Punjabi songs and can speak the language very well. His ensemble of white kurta-pyjamas is accessorised with matching Punjabi 'juttis'. And the fact that at 77 he still finds the energy to play tennis too he credits to his Punjabi genes, and declares with pride, "After all, I am a sardar." Beyond this confession, don't expect him to wear his Punjabi identity on the shoulder, though he does bear the flag for the India-Pakistan peace campaign and has written the anthem "Nazar mein rehte ho".

The man of sensitive expression may not confess to being a romantic, but a dreamer he is. Love songs or peace anthems, perhaps no one understands the heart better than him. "Paani ki ek boond hai shayar, pura samandar apni aankh mein rakhta hai." His own lines sum him up the best.