Memoirs of fifties Akividu or Akiveedu (ఆకివీడు), and neighbouring villages. Educational, geographical, historical, literary, philosophical,
religious and social postings included. Copyright Raju (PD). (bondadaa@gmail.com)
Pointing out that Modi finds time to tweet on events such as British PM David Cameron’s birthday, Shourie alleged that his silence on crucial issues was deliberate.
By: Express News Service | New Delhi | Published:Nov 3, 2015, 2:34
Former Union Minister Arun Shourie.
Former Union Minister Arun Shourie said on Monday that Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s silence on key issues amid growing intolerance in the country was a political decision aimed at winning the Bihar elections.
Rejecting the BJP’s defence that the Prime Minister could not be expected to speak on every issue, Shourie told Karan Thapar in an interview on India Today TV: “Prime Minister is not a section officer of the homoeopathy department. He is not head of a department. He is the Prime Minister. He has to show the country the moral path. He has to set moral standards.”
Pointing out that Modi finds time to tweet on events such as British PM David Cameron’s birthday, Shourie alleged that his silence on crucial issues was deliberate. “He kept silent on the Dadri incident and incidents like the killing of two Dalit children (in Haryana)… He is keeping silent while his party colleagues and ministers are keeping the issues alive,” he said.
Asked whether Modi’s silence was political, Shourie said: “I think so… you can’t have it both ways. You are a very strong leader but cannot control your members.”
Terming Finance Minister Arun Jaitley’s statement that Modi was the victim of intolerance as “most dangerous”, Shourie said: “When a ruler believes or he is made to believe that he is a victim then in his mind he gets the fullest justification for vengeance. It is terrible. It will give him grounds to be vengeful.”
Asked about the BJP’s claim that he was no longer a party member, Shourie indicated that he had not renewed his membership so that the party could not expel him for his criticism. “I am a graduate of the Ramnath Goenka school… When a guest is coming don’t leave any knives and forks that could be used to stab you,” he said.
Referring to Tourism Minister Mahesh Sharma describing former President Abdul Kalam as “a nationalist despite being a Muslim”, Shourie said that allotting the BJP leader the house in which Kalam lived was like “spitting in the face of people”. “This is really symbolic,” he said.
Shourie also agreed with suggestions that Modi and BJP chief Amit Shah were pitting one community against another in Bihar and cited a Pakistani analyst to say that while the neighbouring country was trying to get out of a pit, India was slowly going down that way.
Criticising Shah’s statement that if the BJP loses in Bihar, crackers would be burst in Pakistan, Shourie said leaders were resorting to “anything and everything” to win “a mere election irrespective of its long term consequences”.
Shourie also criticised those in the government who had described critics of Modi as “rabid” and “intolerant”, saying they themselves had “not read a single book in 20 years.”
Shourie described the writers, authors and artistes who had returned their awards in the “climate of intolerance” as “conscience-keepers” of the country and said their motives cannot be questioned. “Those who cannot write two paragraphs are sitting in judgement over writers,” said Shourie.
Although he expressed confidence that the country would survive these times, he said investors are concerned because the current climate comes on top of other “mistakes” such as somersaults on tax policies and the clash with institutions like the judiciary. “They (investors) do not want to get caught in legitimising something that is fundamentally wrong,” said Shourie.
They want the new government to give them and their art form the dignity they deserve.
31-10-2015
Ankit Tyagi @Ankit_Tyagi01
In an election where every vote is crucial and is being furiously fought for, surprisingly there is indeed a section of voters for whom nobody cares enough to win over. Every corner of Muzaffarpur, which will vote on November 1 in the fourth phase of the Bihar Assembly elections, has seen high-decibel campaign. Prime Minister Narendra Modi has held two rallies here and almost every star campaigner from either side has made a visit to Muzaffarpur. But move out of this place a little and ask for Chatarbhujsthan, you are in for a surprise. After the initial suspicious glances that will be thrown at your way, when you do traverse a kilometre-long dusty stretch, you see a channel of lanes and bylanes. And then, there it is, catching you slightly offguard. At once, you feel you are not quite in Muzaffarpur town itself. I mean of course, you are, but you realise where you have arrived is a place that is somehow cut off from the main city.
Outside every door is a board with a name and under it clearly written: “famous dancer, Mujra Mehfil specialist”. This is the “red light area” of Muzaffarpur. Mujra, an age-old tradition in Bihar, which is still an essential part of every wedding in the state, with time has not only lost its relevance and flavour, but now is almost a dying craft. "Ab pehley jaisey kadradan kaha rahe?” laments Reena, a mujrawali. Reena, in her forties, is way past her prime and is no longer a draw in these lanes. She had learnt the craft of singing and dancing from her mother who was also a mujra dancer. “I have seen times changing rapidly, our kala degenerating and people looking down upon my type as prostitutes. We don't sell our bodies but our craft,” says Reena, talking about the relatively glorious past.
A mujrawali in Muzaffarpur rehearses for her performance. [Photo credit: Ankit Tyagi]
Stand outside the house in the gali and you won't know Muzaffarpur is going to polls. No flags, no posters, no campaign material, no hint of a rally. Despite having about 4,000 voters, no one cares to woo the residents of Chatarbhujsthan. While none of the candidate cares for coming here, the mujrawalis are looking forward to cast their votes.
In another house on the ground floor, in a room with pictures of a young girl all dressed up in lehenga and posing in different mudras, is Karishma. On the floor, are mattresses for the customers, lined up on one side are the musical instruments and on the other is area for the mujra performance. Karishma, in her mid-twenties, is the rising starlet of this area. It took her two years to learn mujra and she has been in the profession for the last five years. “Nobody comes in this profession now for the craft, it's majboori”, she says.
With voting day just right around the corner, there are expectations among these unlikely voters too. “It's sad they don't care even to come here, our vote is also important like anybody else's”, says Reena. “My kids can't even take my name in their school. We too want better infrastructure and less mehangai, and this what I am going to vote for. But as of now, I have not made up mind on any candidate”, she adds.
Karishma, too, will be voting. But she has a question for the candidates: why such apathy towards them? “It is only because of this attitude, people have misconceptions about us. If netas come here, perceptions about us will also improve”, she says.
But sitting in one corner, a young girl clad in a green salwar kameez, listening to this conversation now speaks up. A first-time voter, Rinku has just entered this profession. What she says sums it up for all of the mujra girls: "I want to vote and I will vote for izzat. I don't do anything wrong and I want the stigma attached to mujra to disappear. I want the new government to give me and my art form the dignity we deserve.
CHENNAI, October 31, 2015 | Updated: October 31, 2015 09:44 IST
Ramya Kannan
Viktoria Ivanova, a young girl from Siberia who underwent a heart transplant in the city recently, with her mother and grandmother. Photo: R. Ragu
Viktoria Ivanova is ready to go back to school
The spin of the Russian Roulette left Viktoria Ivanova with a rather bad deal. When this Siberian girl was about 10, they discovered she had a potentially fatal heart condition — restrictive cardio myopathy. They told her that it was as if she had the heart of a really old man, the ventricle walls abnormally rigid, unable to pump well. The only hope for the girl, the doctors grimly told her family, was a heart transplant.
Viktoria was once again dealt a lousy card, as it turned out that the law in Russia does not allow for paediatric heart transplants.
Her parents looked frantically for options outside the country, and inside the country to raise money for what was going to be a very expensive procedure. It came in, but not enough, and, meanwhile, they heard of K.R. Balakrishnan, a cardiac surgeon from India. He came highly recommended. That’s when things finally seemed to turn around. With the intervention of a journalist friend, Iulia says the issue went up to Russian President Vladimir Putin.
Talking to The Hindu through her translator Najiullah, she says, “Usually the Russian government provides assistance to children to go abroad for treatment. It is usually Europe.” “I had heard so much about Dr. Balakrishnan, I had decided if Viktoria was to have a transplant, then he’d have to do it. Happily for us, we heard that President Putin gave the go ahead. And here we are.”
Viktoria came to Chennai mid May with her mother and grandmother Natalia. When she checked into Fortis Malar hospital, where Dr. Balakrishnan heads the Cardiothoracic and Transplant Surgery unit, the temperature was hovering at a blistering 40 degrees Celsius, the polar opposite of the -40 degrees Celsius she is used to in Irkutsk, Siberia.
But for the family it was lovely, not only did they enjoy the warmth of the sun, but also the warmth of the people here. Viktoria received a heart in September, the donor a young man who was declared brain dead after an accident in Tiruvarur.
The team from Fortis Malar flew to Thanjavur where he had been admitted, retrieved the heart and flew back to sew it into Viktoria. “For me, it was like science fiction — you take a heart from a boy in Thanjavur and put it in a girl from Irkutsk and it beats,” says Dr. Balakrishnan. For him, this was special personally, because his mother’s family is from Thanjavur.
It was not easy though. Dr. Balakrishnan says hearts are not easily available for children. Adult hearts are bigger and heavier, and placing them in the child’s thoracic cavity is akin to putting the engine of a truck in a small car, he explains. Only eventually does the heart get used to the child’s rhythm.
Indeed it has. A shy Viktoria tells her mum that she is ‘very, very happy’ because she can walk, eat whatever she wants and go back to school. Iulia says, “I am so thankful, my daughter lives again. We are ready to go back and we are taking the Indian heart home with us.”
Friday, 30 October 2015 - 7:35am IST | Agency: dna | From the print edition
Nikhil M Ghanekar @NGhanekar
Bhargava, founder-director of the Centre for Cellular and Molecular Biology, on Wednesday, decided to return his Padma Bhushan to protest against the decreasing space of dissent in the country.
Dr Pushpa M Bhargava - emminent scientist, writer and founder-director of Centre for Cellular and Molecular Biology in Hyderabad Image Courtesy: Facebook
Reacting to Union finance minister Arun Jaitely's remark that the protest by writers, artists, historians and scientists is a 'manufactured rebellion', renowned scientist Pushpa Bhargava told dna that these protests are 'spontaneous reactions against the present atmosphere of intolerance'.
Bhargava, founder-director of the Centre for Cellular and Molecular Biology, on Wednesday, decided to return his Padma Bhushan to protest against the decreasing space of dissent in the country.
"I am upset that the scientific and rational temper has not been maintained in the country. There is little space for dissent and minorities such as Muslims, Christians and others are made to feel as second-class citizens", Bhargava said. Commenting on the conflicts over cow slaughter and beef consumption, he added, "The present government wants to decide what I want to eat, what I think. It is also indulging in moral policing."
A lot can be learned from a comparative study of texts.
29-10-2015
Rohini Bakshi @RohiniBakshi
Dussehra
marks the end of the epic war between Rāma and Rāvaṇa and Dīpāvalī, the
joyous return of Rāma and Sītā to Ayodhyā. In the festive lull between
them, my grandmother regaled us with tales of the magical PuśpakaVimāna.
Her stories came from Rāmcaritmānas. Tulsidas's driving force was his
immense "bhakti" to Rāma, and since the journey didn't present an
opportunity to praise him in any meaningful way, the poet did not spend
too much time on it. Gran chose to embellish the journey with
information from the rest of the text. That was her version. Vālmīki’s
Rāmāyaṇa devotes a good six sargas to the journey (Yuddha-kāṇḍa 122-
127). And recently I had cause to read an account of the same journey in
Kālidāsa’sRaguvaṃśa. An Inter-textual study yields an understanding of
many things, not least of which is the intent of the composer. I hasten
to add this is not a hermeneutic study, just a preliminary exploration.
Here
I compare Vālmīki’s version to that in the incomparably elegant
Raghuvaṃśa of Kālidāsa. While Vālmīki’s version recapitulates for a
wider audience key events leading to Rāma’s victory, Kālidāsa, writing
for a refined court assemblage, focuses less on the gore and the mundane
and more on the sublimity of Rāma’s love for Sītā, and on conveying the
intense beauty of nature. Another cause for differences between the two
versions stems from the fact that by Kālidāsa’s time, Rāma was
unequivocally worshipped as anavatāra, whereas Vālmīki for the most
part, portrays him as a man. Rāma’s divinity is referred to for the
first time towards the end of the epic, when Mandodir? is lamenting on
the battle field (6.111.14-17), Rāma chooses not to acknowledge this.
Later, when Sītā is undergoing the fire ordeal, the gods inform him he
is Nārāyaṇa, to which he says, I think of myself as a man (ātmānaṃ
mānuṣaṃ manye 6.117.11).
Brahma then tells him in detail about his divinity.This has an implication for the two presentations, as we will see.
Kṣatra,
martial prowess and victory are fore fronted by Vālmīki’s Rāma. He sets
off by showing Sītā the Lankan battle fieldwhich is māṃsaśoṇitakardamam
[whose mud is (covered with the) blood and flesh] of monkeys and
rākṣasas. Identifying them by name, he points out where each rākṣasa
fell and who he was killed by. The ocean crossing is dismissed in two
verses - describing it as the abode of Varuṇa, and abounding in oysters
and conch shells. (6.123.15,17).
Kiṣkindhā’s
beautiful groves get a mentionprimarily as the location of Vali's
killing. Others have a voice too during the journey. Sugrīva speaks
up,and his wife and retinue are picked up, an event of no interest to
Kālidāsa. Śabari is recalledby Vālmīki’s Rāma, Jaṭāyu is remembered, the
killing of Khara is retold, the hermitage of Sutīkṣṇa is described.
Chitrakūṭa, Yamunā, Gaṅgā, Śṛṇgaberapura, the Sarayū and finally Ayodhyā
is described.
Kālidāsa opens with Rāma as Viṣṇu,
stepping into his own space (ākāśa) as he steps into the Vimāna. Several
verses then weave the different avatāras of Viṣṇu into the narrative.
Next follows apersonal and highly romantic interaction between Rāma and
Sītā. Kālidasā’s abilities to express śṛṅgāra rasa and to finesse nature
dominate. The ocean, a mass of foam, split by the setu, is the mirror
image of a clear autumnal sky (śaratprassanam) sprinkled with bright
stars divided by the Milky Way (13.2). The legend of Sagara is told,
which Vālmīki considered unnecessary, but strikes just the right note
with the Gupta king and his courtiers for whom royal lineage would be
important, and for whom K?lid?sa was writing. Rāma points out whales and
sea creatures frolicking in the water, cleaving the surface of the
ocean and jets of water bursting forth from the spouts on top of their
heads. Again, enthralling the court seems to be the purpose.
Rāma
tells Sītā that the corals in the sea (vidruma) are vying with (the
colour of) her lips (13.13), and the breeze from the shore is adorning
her face again and again with ketaka pollen, as if knowing Rāma is
unable to bear this waste of time, thirsting for her ruby lips. (13.16).
Vālmīki knows that Rāma’s brother, Vibhīṣaṇa, Hanumān, Sugrīva and all
the monkeys are in the Puśpaka Vimāna, and this is hardly an appropriate
occasion for a romantic exchange, but Kālidāsa is not deterred by this
minor detail! A heavenly breeze laden with the fragrance of Airavata and
cooled by the waves of the Gaṅgā sips the sweat raised on Sītā’s face
by the midday (heat). And when she puts her hand out of the window of
the Vimāna, Rāma says it seems like the cloud is offering her a circlet
of lightening (vidyutvalaya) as a bracelet (13.20-21).
As
they progress over land, Rāma confesses how bereft he was after her
abduction. An aspect completely ignored by Vālmīki on this journey, his
intent being reconnecting with everyone who had helped Rāma during
exile, administrative issues like sending Haunumān ahead to inform
Bharata, and such mundane but important matters like providing food for
the monkeys. Kālidāsa’s Rāma meanwhile points out the Mālyavata mountain
to Sītā where had shed as many tears as a cloud had shed rain. The
caves of the mountain,he tells her, reverberated with the rumble of the
clouds, reminding him of how she would rush into his arms, terrified by
thunder (13.28). On the shores of the Pampā he points out a slender
Aśoka tree, whose blossoms had reminded him of her breasts, and he had
wanted to embrace them, but Lakṣmaṇa restrained him. The Sanskrit is so
very beautiful and intoxicating, it would be worth learning, if only to
read Kālidasa in the original.
The treatment of the
reception at Ayodhyā varies quite a bit too. Vālmīki spends time on the
actions and reactions of each actor, but the emotional aspect is muted.
Bharata bows low to greet Rāma, who then embraces him and seats him on
his lap. All of one verse is given to this reunion. Kālidāsa on the
other hand stresses Rāma’s appreciation for Bharata and their brotherly
love. Rāma tells Sītā that Bharata did not enjoy the wealth of the
nation even though it was forced upon him by their father. That he has
lived like an ascetic, as if practicing the vow of walking on a razor's
edge (ugramasidhāramvratamabhyasatiiva. 13.67). That he safeguarded the
kingdom in order to return it to Rāma. A rigorous compliance to
primogeniture which would please Kālidāsa’s patron, no doubt. Bowing to
Vasiṣṭha first as protocol required, Rāma with tears rolling down,
embraces Bharata and kisses him on the forehead. Bharata and Lakṣmaṇa
too hug tightly, despite the pain it causes the latter due to the wounds
on his chest caused by combat with Indrajit (13.70,73).
A
lot can be learned from a comparative study of texts. The poet's
priorities, his intent, his milieu and his audiences. Kālidāsa’s
rendition is ornamental rather than didactic, without compromising on
bhakti. His stress on human emotion makes his presentation extremely
moving. The two texts compared come from within Hindu orthodoxy. Yet
separated by centuries, are remarkably different. Novelist Deepika
Ahlawat points out "Subtle differences in the treatment of romantic love
in Vālmīki’s Rāmāyaṇa and Rāmcaritmānas might be a reflection of
changing social mores. The epics shine through the prism of the ages,
each time giving a different effect."*
Imagine then the
impact of factors like culture, religion, geography, and language.
There is Jaina version, a Sikh version, a Bhil version, and Buddhist
one, each varying elements of the story to suit their audience.For
instance in the Jaina version, Lakṣmaṇa kills Rāvaṇa, because the ideal
hero cannot possibly kill.
Through the ages, the
Rāmāyaṇa has been written in every important Indian language, reflecting
the age, culture and preferences of that linguistic community. In the
Bengali Krittibasa version, before battle with Rāvaṇa, Rāma propitiates
the goddess Durgā with 99 lotuses and when he can't find the 100th, he
resolves to offer one of his eyes to her. Sound familiar? Other language
variants include the very important Kamban Rāmāyaṇa in Tamil, Kandali
in Assamese, Ramakien in Thai each with their own sensitivities.There is
a Cambodian Rāmāyaṇa, a Filipino one, Malaysian Burmese, Tibetan and
even a Chinese version. The Muslim Mappila community in northern Malabar
have their own Rāmāyaṇa. To explore this idea further AK Ramanujan's
one time controversial but highly informative essay is worth reading,
whether or not you agree with him.
Further reading:
Kalidasa’s Raghuvaṃśa, trans. KM Joglekar.
Goldman, R, trans, Ramayana.
Ramanujan, AK, 300 Ramayanas.
Critical edition of Rāmāyaṇa (Sanskrit) at Sanskrit documents.org.
*You can follow Deepika Ahlawat, author of Maya's Revenge on Twitter @ahlade.
NEW DELHI, October 30, 2015 | Updated: October 30, 2015 04:03 IST
Smita Gupta
The anger was seen on the social media and in citizens across the country organising well-publicised “beef parties” to protest at the use of violence by Hindutva groups to enforce food restrictions.
The beef issue has only helped liberal Hindus to break their silence
The cow protection debate revived by sangh parivar activists after the Narendra Modi government came to power is no longer centred round the question of respecting religious taboos: the lynching of Mohammad Akhlaq a month ago in Uttar Pradesh’s Dadri village for allegedly storing and consuming beef shifted the thrust of the discussion to whether personal freedoms – the right to choose one’s diet, clothes, beliefs, and life partners – was under threat.
Next came the storming of Kerala House in Lutyens’ Delhi earlier this week by the Hindu Sena for serving beef to its customers, following which the Delhi police, with unusual alacrity, responded to the Sena’s call, giving the issue yet another twist — that of violation of federal freedom.
As long as the Bharatiya Janata Party and the sangh parivar restricted themselves to advocating a ban on cow slaughter, virtually no political party challenged it, largely because it had support among a section of Hindus, and is there in the Directive Principles — though not in the Fundamental Rights — of the Constitution.
Indeed, other political parties either remained silent on the subject — as when the BJP-Shiv Sena government earlier this year expanded its cow protection law to include all bovines — or supported it. The Congress, for instance, has been at pains to stress that most of the laws banning cow slaughter in the country — enacted in at least 24 States — was done on its watch. The Congress’ Digvijaya Singh even said his party would cooperate with the government if it wished to enact a Central law on the subject.
But with the BJP government failing to reassure citizens that it has no plans to enforce dietary restrictions, it has entered treacherous terrain.
People have read this silence as an effort to limit their freedom of choice even as State governments see the Kerala House episode as an infringement of federal principles: witness the prompt expressions of solidarity to Kerala Chief Minister Oommen Chandy from the principal opposition in the State, the Left Democratic Front, as well as from West Bengal Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee and Delhi Chief Minister Arvind Kejriwal.
The anger was seen on the social media and in citizens across the country organising well-publicised “beef parties” to protest at the use of violence by Hindutva groups to enforce food restrictions. In Bihar, barring hardcore BJP supporters, a cross-section of Hindus told this correspondent that no one had the right to decide what citizens ate.
The Kerala House episode saw Mr. Chandy describing the police raid “as a challenge to the federal system of the country,” and throwing out a challenge to the Modi government: “As long as buffalo meat is not banned in Delhi, Kerala House will continue to serve beef at its canteen,” he said. He also threatened to initiate legal action against the Delhi police unless they acknowledged their mistake.
On Thursday, belatedly, Union Home Minister Rajnath Singh told India Today that he was willing to express his regret to Mr. Chandy and would meet him after his return from Bihar. Mr. Singh also said he had told the Delhi police “to be careful while acting on such complaints in future.”
The BJP and the Hindutva groups have clearly failed to read the sentiments of the people of this country: if they had believed that whipping up the beef issue would help polarise society along religious lines, it has only helped liberal Hindus to break their silence as can be seen in the protest by writers, academics, scientists, filmmakers. Freedom of choice is after all critical for citizens of a democracy; just as infringement of the rights of the States goes against the spirit of cooperative federalism.
In 1996, The Simpsons passed The Flintstones as the longest running prime-time animated show. In the 30-year interim, the tenor of adult cartoons had shifted dramatically: The Simpsons was more caustic and puerile than The Flintstones, a shameless Stone Age remake of hit 1950s sitcom The Honeymooners. What had hardly changed was the creative process.
Like The Flintstones, The Simpsons relied on a
large Los Angeles-based writer’s room, a coterie of directors, a squad
of storyboard and design artists, and dozens of animators. The biggest
change in production over three decades was simply geography; by 1996, The Simpsons had begun outsourcing the final stage of animation to a studio in South Korea.
A year after The Simpsons passed The Flintstones, South Park premiered on Comedy Central. If The Simpsons
was a middle finger to the establishment, the animation of Trey Parker
and Matt Stone was a burning bag of shit. It was cheap and fast to
animate with paper cutouts, which allowed the show to comment on recent
events. Cartoons at the time, requiring months of costly animation,
needed to be comparably timeless in their story and humor, but South Park targeted the present.
Thanks to computer animation and the internet, South Park, the shows of Adult Swim, and countless online-only animated shorts, like Homestar Runner, have made animation faster, rougher, and looser. But The Simpsons, to this day, embraces the formula of the past. While an episode of South Park can now be created in a single week by a lean team, The Simpsons has actually added roles and failsafes to its lengthy process. In the world of animated TV, The Simpsons
may be the last of its kind, an expensive, high-touch, slow-paced
production built on formulas dating back to Walt Disney and
Hanna-Barbera.
The Simpsons is now in its 27th season. This is how an episode
of the program is made, a detailed, meticulous look at a process that
has its bedrock but builds upon it with the tools and lessons of the
future.
It begins with a pitch….
A few weeks before the warm Christmas of Southern California, the writers of The Simpsons
— the longest-running sitcom in the US, starring everybody’s favorite
family: Homer, Marge, Lisa, Baby Maggie, and their son Bart — take a
retreat. The rest of the season, the team breaks scripts in the sterile
writers' rooms of the Fox studio lot, but the creative process always
began in a home or the big conference space of a nearby hotel.
Each writer brings a fleshed-out minute or so episode pitch, which
they deliver with gusto to a room full of funny people. They laugh, take
notes, then co-creator Matt Groening, executive producer James L.
Brooks, and showrunner Al Jean — a portion of the braintrust from the
earliest days — provide feedback.
In an essay on Splitsider about the writing process of seasons three through eight, former Simpsons writer and producer Bill Oakley described the pleasure of the retreats:
"It was always a huge treat to see. You had no idea what George Meyer
(for instance) was going to say, and suddenly it was like this
fantastic Simpsons episode pouring out of his mouth that you never dreamed of. And it was like, wow, this is where this stuff comes from.
A lot of times people worked collaboratively, too. We would work with
Conan, back and forth, and we’d exchange ideas and help polish them up.
And so everybody would usually come with two, sometimes three ideas.
You’d take fifteen minutes and you’d say your idea in front of everybody
— all the writers, Jim Brooks, Matt Groening, Sam Simon when he was
still there, and also the writers assistants who would be there taking
notes on all this stuff."
Writing a draft
After receiving notes and some creative direction, an episode’s
writer takes two weeks to pen a first draft. "Almost all of the writing
is done here at the Fox [lot] in one of two rewrite rooms," says Al
Jean, who at the time of the interview is deep into production of the
show’s upcoming 27th season. "The two rooms was a change that came about
around season nine. We split because we had enough writers, and we
could get more done."
Getting more done with more tools and more hands is the throughline of the modern Simpsons production process. There are more people doing more jobs with more failsafes at a higher cost on The Simpsons than the majority of — if not all — animated television shows.
A writer has four to six weeks to complete rewrites. "We’ll continue
to rework [the script] six or seven times before the table read," says
Al Jean. "Jim and I will give notes. We rewrite it."
In those late night television commercials that promise to make
everyone a screenwriter, the script is often called the blueprint of our
favorite television shows and films, a term that implies an exacting,
blessed, top level instruction which the rest of the dozens if not
hundreds if not thousands of artists involved obey. That notion — as
anyone who has seen a summer blockbuster or network sitcom can tell — is
false. The script is vulnerable, malleable, and subject to constant
scrutiny. There's a blueprint for animated shows, but it comes later.
The completed draft is like a guide through the woods, ready to be
supplemented, revised, or outright redrawn if need be.
(An excerpt from Judd Apatow's The Simpsons script, The Daily Beast)
The table read
Each Thursday of production, the cast, producers, and writers meet
for a table read of the latest script. Some of the cast attends the
table read, others phone into the room. Occasionally, voice actor Chris
Edgerly, who has handled "additional voices" for the show since 2011,
will fill in for one of the leads. "It’s very unusual that they’re all
at the table at the same time now," says Jean. "People’s schedules got
busier, people actually moved out of Los Angeles. It’s the normal sort
of entropy of life, you know."
Despite being to hundreds of table reads, Al Jean still can’t get
comfortable. He describes a critical setting in which the script is
judged on its creative value, but also under the duress of external
forces. A cell phone might go off or an actor might be fighting a cold,
and the read's vibe shifts. "Last week," says Jean, "there was a truck
backing up, that came in the middle, and that was distracting people.
The table read is my number one unpleasant experience."
Voice recording
On the Monday following a table read, the cast performs the voice
recording, typically at the studio in LA. The actors and actresses
record on separate tracks, rather than together — a common method for
capturing voice-over. "It’s funny," says Jean. "I read a review in The AV Club
where they said about a certain show there was great interaction
between two people, and they never met. They didn’t record in the same
place. I’m glad it worked, but there was no physical connection."
Direction
As work transitions from script to animation, the episode is offered
to a director, who, if they accept, is given ownership of production and
animation responsibilities. "[The role is] sort of akin to a TV
director who takes the script of a show and turns it into an episode,"
says Jean. "Except our director has to create everything. [... The
director] takes the audio track, supervises the design, the motions, and
what we call the acting of the animation, and [supervises] the whole
visual aspect of [the episode]."
Both Jean, who serves as story liaison throughout production of the
series as a whole, and each episode’s director work in tandem to
shepherd the script through the animation process.
(The Simpsons storyboard)
Storyboard
According to veteran Simpsons storyboard artist Luis Escobar,
the animation phase of a new season will begin between February and
April, depending on the status of scripts and other production
variables. Some animators have a hiatus between seasons; others
periodically transition directly from one season to the next.
An episode’s animation begins with storyboarding, a process that
contains multiple steps, and ultimately produces the materials a South
Korean animation studio named Akom will use to complete the episode.
"Our job," says Escobar, "is to do all the thinking, planning, and
[design] of the show. This is what it's going to eventually look like.
That’s what a storyboard is: just a blueprint of the episode."
An episode is assigned to a small group of initial storyboard artists at The Simpsons' work space in Southern California. According to an extensive series of posts on Escobar’s blog about the animation of the show,
the board is reviewed, revised, and then sent to Fox for another round
of notes. Alongside the storyboard, an additional squad of designers is
assigned props, characters, and backgrounds unique to the episode, all
of which undergo a similar series of internal and external drafts and
reviews.
In early seasons, storyboarding was done entirely on paper. In
mid-season, the show switched to animatics — a series of images paired
with the voice track — that would be edited on tapes. Relatively
recently, storyboards transitioned to digital, in which all of the art
and audio is uploaded to an online hub accessible anywhere from
computers and smart devices.
Jean says he can now edit audio from his phone instead of visiting an
editing bay, and video effects can be made with a few digital tweaks,
instead of requiring portions of the board to be entirely redrawn.
(The Simpsons storyboard)
Story reel
The storyboard — revised from Fox’s notes and accompanied by the
voice track — is screened to story reel artists, who are each assigned a
portion of the episode. The work of the story reel artists, a mix of
character and background animators, can range from polish to triage,
depending on the storyboard's quality upon arrival. As Escobar explains,
the reel artists add additional characters' poses, clean backgrounds,
and incorporate notes from the director, who at this stage is refining
the composition of the shots.
As work is completed, the artists once again upload to a server, and
the editor inserts the fleshed-out segments in place of their respective
portions of the storyboard until the entire storyboard is replaced with
a completed story reel.
The two phases sound quite similar, but they serve different
functions. Where the storyboard is somewhere between a picture book and
the flip book, the story reel visualization ideally plays like a
barebones, black-and-white version of the actual episode.
Once the reel is ready, shareholders — Al Jean and the producers,
writers, and episode director — meet at Fox for a screening. "It’s an
interesting situation," writes Escobar, "because everyone in the room
potentially knows all the jokes and how they should play out."
Shareholders take notes, discuss what works and doesn’t, then pitch
additions or changes they’d like made. After a short break, the team
reconvenes and watches the episode again, this time stopping and
starting the reel to discuss how those changes will be incorporated,
sketch rough stills of what the changes should look like, and nail down
any other tweaks to be made by the storyboard revisionist.
Storyboard revisions
Storyboard revisionists get roughly two weeks to revise or outright
create new scenes, following notes from the previous screening. Because
hundreds of hours of animation and design have already gone into the
storyboard, revisionists try to salvage parts from scenes that have been
cut by repurposing them within the revisions.
The revisionist must also make sure the changes flow with the rest of the story reel. On his blog, Escobar provides an example:
"Oh no! Homer needs to be on the other side of the room by
the end of the sequence, but he no longer has that line that made him
walk over there to begin with! How in blazes is he suppose to get to the
other side to deliver his joke? CUT to a quick reaction shot of Bart or
Marge. CUT back to Homer who is magically in the other side of the
room. He must of walked over there while he was off screen. Problem
solved."
According to Escobar, few American animated shows still do the layout process, let alone do so in house.
Layout, he says, is the closest phase to what the layperson imagines
animation to be — that classic image of a Disney cartoonist fanning
paper back and forth, sketching characters into motion. At The Simpsons,
layout is a digitized version of that method. Each animator — divided
into character and background artists — uses Pencil Check Pro to animate
roughly 15 scenes for an episode, making as accurate a depiction of the
final product as possible. While storyboards are rough, layout is
refined.
Characters are drawn to match a model sheet (above) — a guide of
established poses and expressions for the show’s characters. Whenever
Homer shouts with joy, the style sheet explains, his mouth opens in just
this way.
Arguably the most important function of the layout artist is imbuing
the static storyboard images with performance. When Homer cracks a beer,
Lisa plays the saxophone, or Sideshow Bob steps on a rake, the layout
artist decides precisely how that will look. In some capacity, they
double as actors, using the storyboard and voiceover as direction, then
emoting through the residents of Springfield as they feel fit.
The acting, the poses, the backgrounds, props, emotions — everything
the story layout artists draw will be directly incorporated in the final
"clean line" version of the episode animated by the studio in South
Korea.
Along with performance, layout is when shots are framed, as they
would be with a camera in the real world, exactly as they will appear in
the finished episode.
Story layout is the longest and most detailed step, and can take
anywhere from a month to a month and a half, depending on the complexity
of the episode and whether or not other episodes are in production.
"[It’s where the director has] the most control over what happens," says
Escobar. "[As a storyboard artist,] I hear the words ‘I’ll take care of
it in layout’ a lot from directors."
(The Simpsons exposure sheet)
The timer
As soon as a character layout artist finishes a scene, they deliver
to the timer. A timer’s role is to write exposure sheets, the notes for
Akom on how to interpret and apply the work of the story layout artist.
If the layout artist's work is the wood for your new bookshelf, the
exposure sheet is the instruction booklet. And like any furniture
instructions, it's indecipherable to everyone but the experts.
The role is called "timer," because in the past, the timer broke down
all dialogue and animation, assigning tiny pieces to specific frames —
or times — of the episode. Each line on the exposure sheet represents a
frame or group of frames of film. To the right of each frame number, the
timer writes what needs to be animated and how.
The Simpsons is animated at 24 frames per second — every
second, 24 images appear on the screen — which is to say thousands of
drawings can compose a single scene. To break down all of those
drawings, the timer writes dialogue phonetically, and the established
mouth shapes that match each sound, onto the exposure sheet. For
example, Homer saying his own name would look something like
Hhh-ooh-ohm-me-er-Si-im-ps-suh-hnn, each sound running down the page
alongside their assigned frame numbers.
The timer would also include references to Homer’s character
model sheet, and any specific accents or flourishes that needed to be
made to his face or body. And the timers, of which there are two on The Simpsons' team, do this for every character in every scene.
Escobar
says that with the move to digital, character layout artists often
"rough time" their scenes by creating a digital animatic, using the
frames they've drawn to produce a very rough animation of a scene. The
timer takes that animatic and documents the visuals onto the exposure
sheet, adding any touches the animatic doesn’t include. Eye blinks,
finger twiddles, fidgeting — there’s no detail too small for the timer
to add to the exposure sheet, ensuring the team in LA maximum control
over what the South Korean animation studio delivers.
Scene planning
If a scene is particularly complicated, it’s sent to Scene Planning, an internal team formed after The Simpsons Movie,
that digitally animates elaborate scenes. The really flashy,
fast-moving, large-scale scenes that feature a bevy of characters: they
usually go through here.
Print
"There’s a specific position held by a production guy called Peter
Gave," says Escobar. "His job is to take all of the digital character
layout scenes, along with the timing and everything [else], and he
prints them out on paper and those are shipped to [South] Korea." Escobar
laughs. "When we do character layouts, [even though its art is digital]
we are restricted to the field sizes of actual paper." "They're making sure there aren't any mistakes."
Checkers
Two checkers review everything — all of the character layout artwork,
the exposure sheet, and the printed materials — and they make sure that
every piece of art and line of direction matches on the exposure sheet.
"They’re basically the spell checkers," says Escobar. "They’re
checking the grammar [of the animation]. They’re making sure that there
aren’t any mistakes." If they find an inconsistency or a missing portion
for artwork, they return to the director and get the error fixed.
Once every portion of the episode is checked and approved, it’s shipped to South Korea.
Akom
The role of Akom, a South Korean animation studio located west of
Seoul, is to animate all of the frames between the drawings in the final
reel delivered by the layout artists. Say the layout artists animated
20 frames for a 3-second scene. At 24 frames per second, the sequence is
72 frames long. The animation studio would need to do a clean line
version of the original 20 frames and the 52 frames of animation between
them. The process is called original equipment manufacturing; Akom is
one of many OEM studios in its nation.
According to a 2005 report by China Daily, Akom has handled the more or less final and unquestionably significant phase of animation on The Simpsons for nearly 25 years. At the time of China Daily’s
report, roughly 120 animators and technicians translated the storyboard
and layouts into the completed rough edit of an episode, a process that
takes about three months, depending on the episode’s complexity and
position within the season. The report cites OEM animators making a
third of US counterparts, though it's unclear how pay has changed over
the past decade.
Despite Akom's position in the animation wing of the show, Escobar
couldn’t really speak to any other details about the work done at the
animation studio. Escobar compared the aforementioned layout process in
Los Angeles to the male animators of Disney’s golden era, but a
paragraph in the China Daily report echoes Disney’s former band of women inkers and painters that put the finishing touches on the studio’s classics: "On
one floor, a staff of mostly young women sit at computers as they scan
animation cells, add colours and put the final technical touches to the
show." Akom is the magic; the all-but-invisible twist that brings
everything together.
Final review, retakes, and final edit
Akom ships a completed, full color version of the episode from South
Korea back to the studio in Los Angeles, where it’s edited, then shown
to the shareholders, who once again give notes for revisions. With the
show approaching air date, this is where a few topical jokes are
sometimes added.
If there’s time, the notes are handled by Akom. If there isn’t time,
the revisions are handled by the retakes division, a skeleton crew of
two or three artists who can perform all functions of the animation
process: storyboards, character layout, clean up, animation, and final
timing.
"It gets really hectic," says Escobar, "because [retakes division
has] to deal with the actual air dates. There have been situations or
circumstances where the retakes finish the day or the night before [an
episode] airs, that sort of thing where they’re like at work, actually
cleaning the stuff up and coloring it."
Finally, an editor works with Al Jean to incorporate the retakes into
the episode, does a final pass on the show’s colors, music is added — a
process so substantive and distinct, it warrants an explainer unto its
own — sound is mixed, the episode is wrapped, and it's sent to Fox where
the new episodes air on Sunday nights.
The process doesn't so much start again, as it continues. As the
production ramps, multiple episodes are in development at once, with
every step of the process constantly overlapping. You understand why the
writers — and everyone else involved — would need a retreat.
Looking back
When does Al Jean know an episode will make it safely through the process?
"Usually at the mix," he says, "when everything’s all set. That’s
pretty pleasant. The thing is, there’s always the potential that things
are not coming together the way you expected. They can fall apart at the
first audio assembly. They can fall apart at the animatic. They can
fall apart in the color screening. You’re never really off the hook."
"The first episode ever done," Jean says, "was by someone who didn’t
quite get the show. It needed a lot of rework. It was held back 'til
maybe the last episode of the first season. It’s pretty well known it
was very disappointing to everybody. Fortunately the second episode,
'Bart the Genius,' directed by David Silverman, was very good. The show
was originally going to debut in the fall of ‘89, but because the first
[episode] didn’t work, we decided to wait 'til Christmas so the episode
directed by Silverman could be the first [airing in January, a little
under a month after The Simpsons’ Christmas special, 'Simpsons Roasting on an Open Fire'].
We never, other than that, have taken a color and not aired it. We’ve
done heavy rewrites sometimes at colors. We’ve never even thrown a
script out after a [table] read. Maybe a couple of times we should’ve,
but we never have."
Ramdas, who was the chief of naval staff between 1990-93, accused the country’s leadership of playing with fire.
By: Express News Service | New Delhi | Updated: October 26, 2015 6:27 am
Ramdas, who was the chief of naval staff between 1990-93, accused the country’s leadership of playing with fire.
In an open letter to President Pranab Mukherjee and Prime Minister Narendra Modi, former Navy chief Admiral Laxminarayan Ramdas alleged that the “RSS and their network” were leading a “systematic and well orchestrated attempt to impose a majoritarian single-point agenda of creating a Hindu Rashtra in India”. Admiral Ramdas was also the former internal Lokpal of the Aam Aadmi Party (AAP).
Stressing that the Hinduism he “knew” was “not filled with the kind of violence and intolerance represented by the current brand of “Hindutva” that was “fanning the flames of division and fear across the country”, he said that series of attacks on “minorities and Dalits” had forced him to hang his head in “shame”.
Ramdas, who was the chief of naval staff between 1990-93, accused the country’s leadership of playing with fire.
In his three-page letter, Ramdas wrote that it was “most shocking” to see no condemnation of such activities by those at the helm of affairs. He said that the “co-ordinated response of those in government seems to be to downplay the attacks – by terming them ‘sad’ and ‘unfortunate’.”
Later, speaking to The Indian Express, Ramdas said that he had no hope that the country’s top leadership will respond to his letter. “I have done my job by pointing out that the fabric of Indian Constitution is in danger.”
Tuesday, 20 October 2015 - 9:06am IST | Agency: dna webdesk
Vivek Agnihotri
When the myth of secularism failed, freedom of expression became the new moral parameter. Intolerance is the new fad.
Sudhir Shetty dna
“You love it when I have problems. You love it because then you can be the good one…”, says Jennifer Lawrence’s character in the highly acclaimed film, Silver Linings Playbook.
It’s a game people play. More, if you happen to be an Indian Liberal.
Like everyone else, I was also born liberal. I played with every child, responded to every idea, and in my imagination, my world wasn’t divided between Hindu, Muslim, Christian etc. It wasn’t divided between rich and poor. There was no discrimination, no hatred. I loved women and men equally. For me, this world was one. Full of people who loved me, and whom I loved. Then who created these fragments in my mind? As I grew, at every step, my world kept shrinking. At every step, I was reminded of my unique identity in terms of my nationality, colour, caste and regionality. While in Bhopal, as a child of a powerful Government officer, I was an elite. Then I did some anti-establishment plays and local newspapers introduced me as a young leftist. When I went to study in Delhi, I became a vernacular, Hindi speaking, small town, middle-class, outsider. While studying in the US, I was a third world, brown Indian. Back in India, in advertising, I was an elite capitalist. When I joined the world of entertainment, I became a progressive creative person. When I joined Anna’s movement, I was a liberal, intellectual voice of Bollywood. Last year, when I openly supported Modi for PM, I became a right-wing bhakt. Recently, I questioned provocative ‘beefy’ statements of some, and now I have become a Sanghi, a Hindu. Hindus see me as upper caste Brahmin. My family thinks I am not the same upper caste Brahmin as my children eat beef (not cow meat). In the film industry, I am either a commercial filmmaker or an indie filmmaker but never a pure filmmaker. I always feel fragmented and divided. This is true for everyone. Despite this fragmentation, discrimination and prejudices, I live freely, happily and in harmony with the other fragments of our society. We tolerate each other, effortlessly. Why are then some people feeling ‘creeping intolerance’ in our society?
The other day I was invited to India’s loudest news channel and the famous anchor asked for my stand on FTII issue. I said I am against the appointment of Gajendra Chauhan and also against student’s manhandling of the Director. I was told ‘No, you have to take one stand as I have to seat you either on my left or on my right.” In the school of Indian liberalism, you have to be pitted against someone. In the Indian Boutique of Liberalism, you don’t get to express your opinion until it’s in black and white. Conflict, contradiction and chaos are the tools to submerge any voice of reason. You have to be either here or there. You have to be in constant conflict. If you happen to be living in harmony, you lose your utility to them. You have to have a problem, for them to love you. You just can’t be against the lynching of a Muslim and in favour of cow-slaughter at the same time. Either you tweet about Muslim victims or Hindu victims. But never about both in a single tweet. We are dividing our worlds in 140 characters. Ghettoism of thoughts has replaced ‘global ideas’. Branded, boutique activism has become the character of our intellectual society. When the myth of secularism failed, freedom of expression became the new moral parameter. Intolerance is the new fad.
Is our Freedom of Expression really suppressed? If yes, how come people are freely expressing it? I remember the times when plain clothed CID officers followed anyone who was anti-Indira. Are we really intolerant? How come we have so many political parties ruling so many different states? This means there is political tolerance. In industry we have equal opportunities for all kinds of enterprise. Malls exist in the midst of local bazaars and street vendors. Sikhs have shops in the heart of Srinagar. Biharis have farms in Punjab. Which means there is no financial intolerance. In administration, education and health we never question the religion or political alignment of the practitioner. If people can openly criticise the Prime Minister, ridicule religious leaders, question social taboos, debate issues ranging from FTII to bar dancers, return Akademi awards, make fun of regional leaders, it proves that there is no media or FoE intolerance. Close your eyes and visualise Indian map. Try to visualise each and every town, village and hamlet, focusing on how people live there? Are they at conflict? Are they killing each other? Are people eating what they wish? Are they wearing what they wish to wear? Do Hindus, Muslims, Christians and other minorities live, work, socialise together? We enjoy kavi sammelans and mushairas with same enthusiasm. We hum our geet and our ghazals with same joy. All young lovers fall back on Urdu shayari to express their love. Bollywood music will lose its sheen without Urdu lyrics. In movies, don’t we cry and laugh together? Generally speaking, people live in harmony and in a certain social order. Supreme Court opening at midnight to reconsider Yakub Memon’s death penalty on one side and some people celebrating Godse’s anniversary on the other side. It indicates that there is extreme tolerance for polarised cultural and religious sensibilities. Writers are free to write on any subject, take, and then return their awards as a protest. In art, in literature, in films and in almost all creative fields there is tremendous tolerance for different ideas and creations. We don’t buy a pot on the basis of the colour of its potter. Is this fear of intolerance built on real threat or perceived threat? Does this exist in flesh or is it just a ghost?
Who is dividing our society? Who is communalising issues? When a Dadri happens why do TV channels invite Owaisi and Sadhvi Prachi? What has Owaisi’s relevance to this theme when he has no locus standi in the politics of UP? How is Sadhvi Prachi relevant to cow-slaughter? Is Sakshi Maharaj a spokesperson for Hindu aspirations? Is he the sole BJP MP to comment on every social issue? Why aren’t sane, rational voices heard anymore? Why haven’t I heard a ‘cow slaughter laws’ expert enlightening us on ‘Cowism’? I’ll tell you why. If you invite sane voices of reason, the game of boutique activism stands exposed. Boutique Liberal Activism feeds on misery of others. Schadenfreude is the oxygen of their business. That’s why they show only the miserable side of our society. Have you noticed that the evolved, enlightened and reasonable voice of India is absolutely absent from national discourse? Now, you decide, who divides.
Our society is divided into ‘overclass’ (as described by Michale Find) and ‘underclass’. Overclass has systematically siphoned off the national wealth leaving underclass to fight for two square meals. They either inherited or, in collusion with the corrupt regimes, appointed themselves to the positions of power and influence. With strong control over information, they kept underclass in the dark. Their word was the final word. The biggest trick the overclass played on underclass is keeping the hope alive that only they can get them out of this abject poverty. That we have problems and they have the solution. This is the same trick godmen and Satan play on us. The same trick Indian overclass played on us. This disproportionate overclass with social, economic and political clout has constantly shown disdain and contempt for the traditional social values and the underclass is now questioning their motives. If different ideologies, traditions and cultures co-exist and democracy finds popular favour, it’s not due to this narrow but influential elite. It’s due to the tolerance level of the underclass. With level playing field in social media, their game is exposed.
Two phenomenon disturbed this status quo. One, the advent of social media, and second, the rise of Narendra Modi. With the easy access to social and digital media, underclass started questioning the authenticity of information provided by the overclass. Suddenly, their statements are scrutinised, their credibility is questioned, their sinister campaigns and lies are exposed. Their dilemma is that they if they quit social media, they lose their relevance and if they stay, they lose their credibility. This war of intolerance isn’t between HDL (Hindu Defence League) and MDL (Muslim Defence league). This isn’t between the left and the right. This is between the overclass and the underclass. The intellectual hierarchy has been demolished. It’s a sad commentary that in the world’s largest democracy, the writers’ protest has become a subject of jokes. The power hungry artists, writers, academia and media in India waste so much time making political statements to hide behind their lack of intellectual stands. Michel Houellebecq wrote 'Submission', a strong political statement, he didn’t get press coverage for returning some award. The lustre is gone from our intellectual discourse. Secularism has lost its ideological currency. Artists, writers, activists are all suspects. Media czars have lost their access to corridors of power and to people’s hearts. It’s the overclass’ space that has been taken over by the underclass. Their discomfort is with the new order where the others are also heard. Hence, the feeling of shrinking space, by the overclass. They are intolerant to this new phenomenon— the emergence of underclass. They try to devalue this new, empowered underclass by associating it with Modi and, therefore, Hindutva, and that’s a grave mistake. The universe that was full of their voice has shrunk to accommodate this new voice. This is what they call an attack on FoE and growing intolerance.
They work exactly like religion. Most of the religious books are based on fear. If you do this, that will happen. Nobody knows what ‘this’ or ‘that’ is. Social justice, if it has to come, will come only from a free and fair market. Why didn’t our liberals tell us this simple truth? When agendas, vote banks and self-delusion take over, reasoning and sympathy are needed to keep up a common conversation. Without it, there is aggression, deafness, and an obsession with purification; hence the divisive politics of Boutique Liberalism. Boutique Liberalism is an Indian tragedy and a very damaging detour into the quicksand of communalism. Indian Liberalism has come to mean the colour opposite of saffron. That’s their failure. In a desperate attempt, their new mantra is -“We don’t care if you are a gay, we want to know whether you are a liberal or a Sanghi gay?”
Stupid ideas thrive on stupid people. If we let stupid ideas become central to our national debate, we are also proving ourselves to be stupid. Like excellence, stupidity is also habit forming. Who is stupid and dumb? The newsmen who sell rubbish as news or the audience who believe in rubbish as news? They will keep pointing at our problems. They will love us only when we have problems. This illusion needs to be destroyed before it sucks us in. We have that power. The power to ignore the stupid.
Vivek Agnihotri is a filmmaker, writer and motivational speaker. He tweets at @vivekagnihotri
What most Indians who voted for the BJP don’t realise (or accept) is that they were duped by Prime Minister Modi.
Published:October 20, 2015 1:53 pm
Why people tolerate the Sangh’s divisive agenda is because constitutional principles (which define the idea of India) are not deeply embedded in the “collective consciousness” of India.
By Pushparaj Deshpande
To much public consternation, Haryana CM Manohar Khattar recently asserted that “Muslims can continue to live in India, but they will have to give up eating beef”. He contended that because cow slaughter hurts the sentiments of Hindus, Muslims and Christians must learn to live without it. In defending Khattar’s views, BJP MP Sakshi Maharaj also justified the assault on J&K legislator Sheik Abdul Rashid as a “natural reaction” to his beef party. He went so far as to advocate the death penalty for cow slaughter. In what must have caused considerable heartburn to its core constituency, Venkaiah Naidu has sought to distance the BJP from Khattar’s views arguing that “it is not correct to link eating habits to religion”, and that eating was a personal choice. Meanwhile, BJP’s chief Amit Shah summoned several BJP leaders to reprimand them for their public comments.
A vast majority of Indians voted in the BJP because it gave them hope in its promise of development and freedom from corruption. It promised to take India to soaring heights, so it could march shoulder to shoulder with the superpowers of the day. It is these very supporters who are increasingly feeling disappointed at the numerous crises that engulf India today. To some, all of it is merely circumstantial, to others the responsibility lies solely with “fringe elements”. What unites them is disbelief in their beloved Prime Minister’s complicity in any of it. To them, it’s just a Congress/pseudo-sickular/leftist/intellectual/anti-national/anti-Hindu conspiracy to undermine PM Modi and the visionary development path that he has laid down for India. Is this really the case? Does the BJP and PM Modi have nothing to these so called “fringe elements”? Are these incidents just unnecessary impediments to their development agenda for India?
In trying to understand this, one has to contextualise the BJP’s foundational roots. The BJP draws inspiration from the likes of MS Golwakar, who contentiously argued (“We: Our Nationhood Defined”) that “foreign races in Hindustan must either adopt… Hindu culture and language… must entertain no idea but those of the glorification of the Hindu race and culture, i.e. of the Hindu nation, and must lose their separate existence to merge in the Hindu race; or may stay in the country… claiming nothing, deserving no privileges… not even citizen’s rights”. These views were echoed by VD Savarkar who vehemently endorsed (“Essentials of Hindutva”) a “nation… united… by the bonds of a common blood”, which is the only thing that’ll makes them a “race-jati”. Their arguments are remarkably similar to Wilhelm Stuckart’s (one of the most prominent Nazi legal theorists, who co-authored the Nuremberg laws) who in “Commentary on Racial Legislation”, provided the basis for the racial discrimination, and eventually persecution of Jews.
Various BJP and RSS leaders have consequently blindly endorsed these inherently divisive ideologies, and the NDA government has purposefully spearheaded contentious policies on them. Consider the beef ban which seeks to primarily criminalise the food habits of Muslims and Scheduled Castes. The penultimate reason for this ban has been socio-religious, something Ambedkar debunked masterfully (see “Untouchability, the Dead Cow and the Brahmin”). If cow slaughter does have to be banned because it affects the sentiments of a community (which is what Khattar argued), why not extend the same logic to pork (which is anathema in Islam) or all meat, indeed all root vegetables (which are prohibited in Jainism)? Given that almost all animals are vehicles of some god or goddess in Hinduism, why does the BJP not ban meat altogether?
Consider also Mohan Bhagwat’s views on reimagining affirmative action (contrary to popular perception, the government is well aware that SC/STs are deliberately excluded from both the public and private sectors in India precisely because of their castes). Given the NDA sees itself as ultimately accountable to the RSS (not to the people), it is safe to assume that they’ve apprised the Sangh of this. Bhagwat’s views are made inspite of this knowledge, and are therefore reflective of the inherent casteism in the Sangh Parivar/BJP. Similarly, consider the Minister of Culture Mahesh Sharma’s comments on the freedoms of women (their movement after dark is against Indian culture), or the NDA’s efforts to ‘cleanse’ historical, and cultural institutions to bring them in sync with a Hinduised vision of India. In fact, the drastic cuts the NDA has made in welfare expenditure are also partly motivated by its ideological imperatives.
How is it that the RSS and its agents (who first effected its agenda through stealth) so brazenly scuttle the Constitution? And why is it that people are so unconcerned with the waves of injustice that threaten to engulf India? Are we as a people simply indifferent to it all? Or even more worryingly, do Indians genuinely believe that what’s happening is acceptable and legitimate?
In unravelling this, one must understand that in India, there exist two sets of laws: a law of the land, and the law in the land. The law of the land is the set of secular norms and principles enshrined in the Constitution of India, which every government in India is mandated to uphold (which the NDA has been found wanting in). Resisting and opposing this supra framework exist various associations (the most prominent example being the Sangh Parivar) who religiously adhere to the law in the land (that is diagrammatically opposed to the law of the land).
Essentially, the Sangh overtly and covertly challenges not just the sovereign position of the State, but also the Constitution of India. The Sangh Parivar and the BJP have, and are consciously undermining the rights which the Constitution of India guarantees (be it freedom of religion, of speech, of expression etc.). They first did that by infiltrating the state, and now by capturing it. What most Indians who voted for the BJP don’t realise (or accept) is that they were duped by Prime Minister Modi. The BJP instrumentally sold hope and the idea of development, and now in office, it has embarked on its real project. The reason Amit Shah and Venkaiah Naidu are scrambling to be seen to pull up the most visible of these so called “fringe elements” is because they know that this will cost them electorally (the first impending jolt being Bihar).
But this doesn’t really explain why as a people, we accept their heinous assault on India. To do that, we needn’t look any further than the father of India’s Constitution, who precisely anticipated this organised resistance. Ambedkar argued that “rights are not protected by law but by the social and moral conscience of society. If social conscience is such that it is prepared to recognises the rights which law chooses to enact rights will be safe and secure. But if the fundamental rights are opposed by the community, no Law no Parliament, no judiciary can guarantee them in the real sense of the word”. And therein lies the real problem.
Why people tolerate the Sangh’s divisive agenda is because constitutional principles (which define the idea of India) are not deeply embedded in the “collective consciousness” of India. This has in turn created fertile ground for the instrumental exploitation of communal (Muzzafarnagar, Dadri, Mainpuri etc.), casteist (Dankaur, Hamirpur, Virar etc.), regional and linguistic disunities. This is partly because the Sangh has rigorously engaged with society, hoping to embed radical Hindutva norms in India’s collective consciousness. It is because of their tireless efforts that large sections of India have been socialised to orthodox norms.
In stark contrast, the numerous conscientious individuals and groups of people who oppose the RSS’ talibanised idea of India keep pinning their hopes on the state. They hope against hope that the state will leash the madness that is the RSS. However, it is not adequately recognised that the state’s ability to influence people is very limited (simply because in the Weberian imagination, it can only impose rules and guidelines). And what they also fail to realise is that this particular government doesn’t really subscribe to the constitutional idea of India at all, and that the BJP will always allow the Sangh to run amuck. It is therefore imperative for us to pay heed to Gandhi’s insistence on a bottom up socio-economic and political revolution (which will effect an organic attitudinal transformation in the hearts and minds of people). As Edmund Burke once said that “the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing”. Let us pray that we find it in ourselves to do something, for what is at stake is the very soul of India.
– The author is an analyst with the Congress party. Views expressed by the author are personal.
October 19, 2015 | Updated: October 19, 2015 01:09 IST
Sanjay Hegde
Till 1993, judges were appointed by the executive in consultation with the judiciary. Illustration: Deepak Harichandran
The four judgments of the majority have reasserted judicial independence, with its concomitant autonomy in appointments, as an integral part of the Constitution’s basic structure.
A powerful two-term Chief Minister of a central Indian State was seen obsequiously bowing and scraping and loudly saying “Yes Sir, No Sir, As you please, Sir” to an innocuous High Court judge. A friend of the Chief Minister later asked him why the most powerful man in a huge State was kowtowing to someone who only a few months prior, as an undistinguished government pleader, would not have been given even an audience. The Chief Minister’s eyes twinkled as he replied to his friend, “Now, he is one of the few people who can remove me from my chair”. The friend’s eyes twinkled as well when he recollected that the Chief Minister too owed his fortune to his predecessor having to resign after a court verdict.
The story may be apocryphal, as many stories from the bar are, but it explains exactly why judicial appointments are so vital in the running of a constitutional democracy. It also explains why the executive and legislature seek to have a say in the process of selecting judges and why today’s judges zealously seek to protect their two decade-old process of immaculate conception, unassisted by other organs of the state.
Till 1993, judges were appointed by the executive in consultation with the judiciary. In good times, consultation with the judiciary went beyond seeking of opinion to attempt a consensus. However, the judicial voice was often neither dominant nor decisive. In bad times, however, governments made calls for a “committed judiciary”, attempted to court-pack and sometimes indulged in rank favouritism. The situation prompted Ram Jethmalani to famously remark, “There are two kinds of judges, those who know the law and those who know the law minister.”
Quiet revolution
It was in this backdrop, in 1993 during Narasimha Rao’s minority government, with Mandal, mandir and economic liberalisation simultaneously boiling, that a quiet declaration of judicial independence occurred. Justice J.S. Verma’s judgment in the Supreme Court Advocates on Record case, gave the Chief Justice and senior judges of the Supreme Court and the High Courts the power of making almost binding recommendations, for future appointments of judges in the constitutional courts.
Whenever a vacancy arose in the brotherhood, it would be filled by someone pre-approved by the judges and the executive could only demur in the appointment if cogent grounds existed. If, despite executive demur, the judges insisted on the appointment, the executive would have to confirm it. The Indian judiciary managed to create, by constitutional interpretation, a self-appointing elite. Within that elite, the power to recommend appointments belonged to a super-elite called the collegium.
In 1998, during the Vajpayee Government, on a presidential reference, the Court defined the collegium thus: “The opinion of the Chief Justice of India ...has to be formed in consultation with a collegium of Judges. Presently, and for a long time now, that collegium consists of the two seniormost puisne Judges of the Supreme Court. ...The principal objective of the collegium is to ensure that the best available talent is brought to the Supreme Court bench.”
The judgment also went on to increase the size of the collegium by holding that “we think it is desirable that the collegium should consist of the Chief Justice of India and the four seniormost puisne Judges of the Supreme Court…” Separate Collegiums of three senior judges were provided for the appointment of High Court judges.
Unstable structure
Since the collegium comprised of the most senior amongst the judges, who all retired upon turning 65, its composition was never stable. On an average, a senior judge would normally serve in the collegium for three years or less and would head it for less than a year. Hence, securing judicial appointments through the collegium became a deadly game of musical chairs and Russian Roulette, randomly mixed. Any High Court judge, hopeful of going higher, found himself desperately seeking not to anger any possible member of the collegium. Sometimes, collegiums got stymied, when old rivalries between its members saw each other’s favourites getting vetoed. There were also times that collegium meetings became examples of bargaining within the collective, and consensus emerging from a division of the spoils. In this system, while no single politician could ensure that a candidate became a judge, it was quite likely that a single judge’s wrath could wreck a hitherto promising judicial career.
The resultant appointments by the collegium, can largely be described as middle-of-the-road, with the elimination of most outliers. Thus, brilliance often got mistaken for unsteadiness and vice versa. Seniority became an indispensable shibboleth. Equally, while a reputation for corruption was a disqualifier, lesser evils like tardiness or sloth often got glossed over. Most importantly, decisions on appointments were hugely delayed, as judges resorted to politicking.
But the collegium also ensured that judges were not beholden to any politician. A bold judgment could end up unseating the most powerful of politicians or irretrievably damaging them. Politicians of all hues yearned for the early years of strong governments with huge parliamentary majorities, where judges were sometimes seen, but rarely heard of.
Towards the end of the UPA regime, the government sought to tame judges by demolishing the collegium. It brought in a constitutional amendment to provide for the National Judicial Appointments Commission (NJAC) — an independent commission with three senior judges, two eminent outsiders and the Law Minister. The UPA’s inept parliamentary handling led to a failure of the bill. A commanding NDA victory in 2014 saw the Modi government revive the proposal and Parliament amended the Constitution brought about the 99th Amendment to provide for the NJAC. Subsequent ratification of 20 States was obtained and it seemed that the collegium was history.
Petitions were filed challenging the constitutional amendment. Going by earlier experiences of judicial standoffs, many men of law expected that a constitutional amendment, almost unanimously passed by Parliament, would be rubber-stamped by the Court. Some were hopeful of judicial creativity finding a via-media which, while upholding the amendment, limited governmental interference. When the judgment was delivered on October 15, 2015, it was a decisive blow. The Court by a 4-1 majority, struck down the 99th Amendment. Justice Kehar’s judgment concluded that the NJAC did “not provide an adequate representation, to the judicial component” and that “clauses (a) and (b) of Article 124A(1) are insufficient to preserve the primacy of the judiciary in the matter of selection and appointment of Judges” It further held that “Article 124A(1) is ultra vires the provisions of the Constitution, because of the inclusion of the Union Minister in charge of Law and Justice as an ex officio Member of the NJAC.” The clause it was held, impinged upon the principles of “independence of the judiciary”, as well as, “separation of powers”. The clause which provided for the inclusion of two “eminent persons” as Members of the NJAC was held ultra vires the provisions of the Constitution, for a variety of reasons.
The four judgments of the majority have reasserted judicial independence with its concomitant autonomy in appointments, as an integral part of the Constitution’s basic structure. No parliamentary majority can amend the Constitution to alter its basic structure and hence the 99th Amendment failed constitutional scrutiny. The court has reinstated the collegium as the clearinghouse of all judicial appointments to the constitutional courts. It has also decided to have further hearings in November to iron out wrinkles in the working of the collegium.
Justice Chellameshwar’s dissenting judgment, has, with strong logic, beautifully worded, upheld the constitutional amendment which scrapped the collegium. Like all dissents, his judgment is an appeal to the future and the powerful brooding spirit of the law. He ended his dissent quoting Macaulay’s dictum, “Reform that you may preserve.”
The Court has now opted to take the path to reform, rather than change to an altogether new road created by Parliament. It is to be hoped that the court’s choice leads not to the dreary desert sands of dead habit, but into ever widening thought and action.
(Sanjay Hedge is a Senior Advocate of the Supreme Court)
When the humble dal is Rs 200 a kilo, the poor do cry Tell me, at such times, should the writer tell a lie
Written by Ramu Ramanathan | Published:October 16, 2015 9:24 am
Finance Minister Arun Jaitley (Source: PTI photo)
Friends, Indians, countrymen, lend me your likes;
I come to defend a few writers, not to praise them.
The evil that politics does would not have lived
If not for these wretched writers who are so naive
FM Sir! He is so right –
Why should we talk about Mr D or Comrade P
When India has such a high single digit GDP
Plus everybody knows what happened to Mr K
He was shot dead, for having a tinge of red
It is the fault of the writer, the FM tells us
These writers, behaving like pest
Constantly, manufacturing protest
Being ideologically intolerant
And yet, not paying their rents
Now
The FM, he is an honourable man;
The Culture Minister, too, is also a honourable man–
In fact all of them are very honourable
So I must not speak aloud and in public
Even if a writer is my friend, just and brave
Our national motto is: Bhayamev Jayatev
But
The FM says, writers are propagandists
And the FM and his boss are honourable men.
His boss hath brought many a selfie, home to Dilli
But have the RBI coffers with black money been filled?
Alas no! If a writer points this out
Then he is worse than a lout
When the humble dal is Rs 200 a kilo, the poor do cry
Tell me, at such times, should the writer tell a lie
Yet
The FM says writers lack national conscience
And the FM is a very honourable-learned lawyer.
You see everything he says, has a precedence …
Nayantra is a Nehru
Rushdie is a pagan
Devy is an academic
Amitav wrote only one book about the Delhi riots
Ghulam Nabi Khayal is an intellectual
Srinath is a secularist
Pragnya and Urmilla are feminists; also Ambedkarites
Sambhaji is worse, a Marxist-Ambedkarite
Rajeev is an extinct species, a playwright
The above have fought many an ideological battle
Against all kinds of tyrannical talk and tattle
They been whipped, they been jailed
With their verse, the mighty have been nailed
Yet the FM says they are villains;
And, he has to be right, since he is an honourable man.
I speak not to disprove what the FM spoke
But
Rajeev did distribute pamphlets in the public loos
During the Emergency when he decided to do
Sambhaji still sings those people’s songs
Perhaps the FM feels, the tune is wrong
So some are labelled, green and budhi-heen
Others ain’t Right, cause they are Left
Words are classified as Kannada, Gujarati, Punjabi, Konkani
If you don’t toe the line, then you become a Pakistani
It is this which causes me to mourn for my friend: the writer
O Art! Are you being fed to brutish beasts
O FM! Just bear with me;
I reserve my right to disagree with you
No doubt, your North Block is very powerful
Beware: The people of this land are no fools