ON KHUSHWANT SINGH - TRUTH, COURAGE AND AGNOSTICISM: AN OBITUARY

Khushwant Singh: Of Truth, Courage and Agnosticism - An Obituary Khushwant Singh, a prominent journalist and a noted novelist, breathed his last silently at noon on Thursday, March 20, 2014. He lived his life perfectly well to his satisfaction almost nearing a century (99) which was a rare achievement keeping all his vitals intact up to the end. On the eve of his departure, he had his last Patiala peg of single malt whisky with golden fried prawns on Wednesday at 7pm sharp. The next day he got up at 5 am and as usual along with daily papers, he had his mental exercise with crosswords puzzle – almost a type of hobby he had developed – and when tired got to sleep, this time for an everlasting sleep, not to wake up again. The end was supposed to have set in between 12.05-12.55 pm in his sleep. He had been for the last few years in dialogue with death. The idea had obsessed him; he talked much about it; played with the nuances of its philosophical approach; wrote a lot on it sportingly, and never was afraid of it. He took it as a peripheral aspect of life. In fact, life to him was more important which reflected in varieties of work and various form of actions. He believed in work culture and discarded worship. He never wasted his time in religious rituals, prayers, meditation and gup-shup. He was least concerned with the word God and was quite vocal about it. In this respect he surpassed Einstein who only at the far end of his life tried to express his idea about God – the word - which he did not believe. Khuswant Singh, even when he was young, had a clear cut outlook about non-existence of God. Religion to him was acceptable with its non-fundamentalist profoundness, but God for him was far away from reality. It might sound contradictory to many, but he was quite clear in his approach to life – a self proclaimed agnostic, a non-worshipper and a blasphemer. He was the man who knew his strengths and weaknesses. He had a positive approach to life making most of it through work and pursuit of fruitful activities. Though born almost like a prince in a well to do family and ‘walked with kings (and higher ups) yet (he) had a common touch’ as his son Rahul Singh has very aptly put it quoting Kipling. He had a bit of grudge against his writing career. Why did not he start as a novelist much earlier in life? He could have done so better as a writer. He was almost a contemporary of V.S.Naipaul who had achieved international status in the literary world as a writer and a novelist. Khushwant Singh took to writing much later in life and the field of journalism and contemporary politics had a toll on his literary genius. It had given him name and fame but took a lot in return by not allowing him an elevated position in the world of literature. He had the capability of achieving much higher a place to what he had really achieved. Journalism is a time consuming and risky business which thrives only in its temporariness. It helps to rise instantly but never brings depth of a literary charm, satisfaction, a prize, a Booker, a Nobel. He missed the opportunity of a whole time literary writer, a narrator, a novelist and standing in the line of a well recognized man of letters early in his life. As a journalist he was able to produce, train and nurture serious scholars and editors, Akbars and Karkarias, but missed the whole life chance of becoming a Naipaul, a Wilson, a Moore or a Fowles. He stands much behind them, although he has had better privileges and longevity of life. He has yet to be assessed as a novelist with his limited stock and range of production separately. Writing on sex has not been his weakness, but strength, strategy, and a hobby. He has opted for sex oriented subject matter and style of writing because he has firm belief that it sells like a hot cake; it is a central theme of every body’s life and has a larger scope for writing and provides larger circulation and wider audience. But he has never tried to become sublime as sex occupied higher place in his life than love. He seldom rises to a higher plane of love. For Khushwant Singh love finds its ultimate destiny in sex and lust. They are intermingled and inseparable. His populist ways have been a constraint in his achieving higher levels and greater pursuits of writing. It checked him to soar high like a star in sky. It stopped him to become a timeless writer transcending the boundaries of agelessness. Journalism restricted him to temporary realities. He could travel only from The Illustrated Weekly to The Hindustan Times that too after many efforts put up by Sanjay Gandhi and he became his “Bhakt” on that count. There seemed to be a great contrast when one looked at The Weekly days of Khushwant - the time he joined, and when he left it. There were two aspects of it. It was Khushwant Singh who brought its sale many fold (from 60,000 to 4,50,000) and it was he who brought it to the point of closing down too. It was a paradoxical situation. The Illustrated Weekly ceased to be a respectable family magazine – for every house hold, family, and drawing room. Bannet Coleman & Co was much disturbed by it. In fact, it produced a wrong signal and Khushwant Singh’s term of editorship ended without delay or any extension. Khuswant Singh converted the magazine to the caliber of a Play Boy. It soared high, but it became a carrier of too much of paper sex, gossips and cheap humour. Khushwant Singh never exhibited author’s journalism. It lacked the literary charm. It symbolized Hinglish style of ‘Roti-making and Chappal-faking’ language developed and adored by Khushwant. It was said that with Khushwant Singh the Illustrated Weekly of India had attained its perfection and peak, and with him also started its decay and downfall. Even Kamath, who succeeded him, failed to check its deceleration and imminent close down. His other distraction was his unacceptable punching humour tending to farcical situation and creating unending annoyance. It never became classical; it attained only a populist way and vanished the moment it was released. It was mere a collection of jokes, some acknowledged, other anonymously projected, and he worked them out as an editor, getting also published in book form in his name almost becoming a farcical character himself of the rank of either Banta or Santa who will perhaps survive through the eternity. This sense of humour was isolated from real life and could not attain any literary charm, a well expressed form and style, sublimity, relief or emancipation. It never hit the imagination, but spoiled the taste, the ambience, the individual and group behaviour of understanding to overcome the socio-cultural inhibition and relief of tension. He unfairly caricatured his own image, society and people whom he represented. He showed the exemplary strength of character as an editor when he supported Indira Gandhi during the Emergency days. It was not a sudden advocacy. One has to understand Khushwant Singh’s basic adherence to the principles of democracy and its real purpose. One has to understand the times, the delicate situations, the meaning behind the utterances, and the hidden agenda made to spoil the governance of the period. Khushwant supported Indira and the imposition of the Emergency as a logical conclusion of JP’s anarchistic style of politicking. While Khushwant Singh succeeded in his stand, the most of journalist fraternity failed to understand it because they worked only on the lines of cartel behavior guided by the capitalist bosses. Indian journalism has never been free, the way freedom of press is really understood. It has always remained a caged bird. It works under the lense and surveillance of industrial groups of the type of Goenkas, Sahu Jains, Birlas, Andrews, Karnanis, Kasturis etc. Indian press remains censured always mentally and emotionally by their crony money magnates. So when censorship was imposed during Emergency it was the group like Goenkas or JP’s which was hit most because this pseudo revolutionary movement was highly projected through the press. The press was already a jailed bird controlled by industrial giants and others. What mattered if they were not allowed to magnify an anarchist movement? Khuswant Singh survived Emergency because Bannet Coleman as a unit was never influenced individually as was Goenkas by JP. Infect JP lived on Goenkas patronage. Had any Daily news paper stopped its circulation or production in protest against press censureship? Had any editor left his job in protest against his freedom? JP was neither a socialist nor a democrat. He paid lip sympathy to Gandhism and always misguided the people who surrounded him; who considered him as a revolutionary or an avatar to bring total revolution which flopped within two and a half years and Indira like Phoenix re-emerged from ashes to punch JP’s sense of inflated ego. ‘JP failed yet again’ wrote one of his sycophants and when Indira met JP at Kadam Kuan (Patna), he had no words but to appreciate her courageous victory. JP said to Indira,” you had a bright past and I wish you a brighter future”. Those who lived during the Emergency times and still dishonouring the era of discipline – Anushasanparva – or discarding Emergency must answer the nature and causes of Indira’s re-emergence as a victorious leader. Many adulatory books or “JP Chalisas” had been written by journalists, civil servants and academics but none had courage to answer: why Indira re-emerged and why total revolution turned to be a total flop? The followers of JP still keep this dead movement close to their chest in the hope that it might come to life someday like Macaque monkey keeping the dead infant close to the heart. Khushwant Singh was one of the great personalities of India who had seen merit in Emergency. This was the truth of his life and somewhere in his consciousness Khushwant found a Gandhian touch in him as far as the courage of conviction was concerned. Khushwant had always admired Gandhi. As a student of Modern School, he had an occasion to meet Gandhi who created a lasting influence on him. The strength of truth provided Khushwant Singh a special mindset to generate a sense of righteousness of his own understanding. This elevated him amongst the journalists of his times – he was The Master. As an editor of Illustrated Weekly he had a cover story to publish about the pitfalls of JP’s movement. And he did so courageously while JP was alive. What Khushwant Singh predicted had happened. Emergency was imposed and JP was jailed. In the luxurious ambience of PGI, Chandigarh, well protected and carefully looked after by doctors, nurses, servants and bureaucrats who willingly worked for JP as his assistants, advisors and secret messengers. JP had an occasion to spew up venom in the elaborate elegy written as a Prison-Diary. The conditions of Emergency were of JP’s own creation. There was no alternative to the anarchy brought about by him. JP had given a final call for armed forces to revolt. No government, worth the name, would have tolerated such a situation. JP was in hurry to become a Marx, a Lenin and a Mao – combined in one. But history had pulled him down as a failed leader or a fascist who could not successfully ‘March on Delh’ before the Emergency. Those who still adore JP must answer: where is the total revolution? One has to admit Khushwant Singh as a truthful and courageous editor who admired Emergency to its core even in the midst of all opposition from his journalist fraternity. And he ultimately had to pay the price for it. Unperturbed by trials or tribulations, he stood on his ground firm like a rock of strength with full conviction and faith that Emergency was inevitable. Khushwant Singh’s truthfulness had been reflected much when he wrote quintessential books on his life like – Absolute Khushwant: The Low-Down on Life, Death and Most Things In Between; Khushwantnama: The Lessons of My Life; The Good, The Bad and Ridiculous; Agnostic Khushwant: There Is No God; Truth, Love and A Little Malice; Women and Men In My Life etc. As a writer he believes that truth must be told, accepted and worked out. Nothing except truth should prevail. It is truth that is exhibited in all his writings – journalistic or literary. He is comfortable with it; sometimes hilarious and other times bitter too. He left nothing untold about his life: of love, dejection, hope and despair; of sex, women and prostitution; of friends, family, home and hearth; of death, deception and defeat – in a sense all about his professional and personal life. It is this revelation which makes him different from Gandhi‘s openness who had concealed his clear way of approaching his love for a woman of Tagore’s family (as discovered by his grandson later) and his practical indulgence in prostitution in London. Revelation does not mean fooling the readers; it is courageous way of embracing bitter truth as Khushwant Singh has done. His truthfulness and agnosticism are the outcome of his transparent behavior, openness of mind and clear vision of life. He is bold enough to acknowledge his failures and also a bit of his ugliness, malice, sex, bitterness and blasphemy. Khushwant Singh had a peculiar sense of imagining his death and writing about his obituary or own epitaph. At one time he was so enamored with the idea that he wanted to have a grave of his own. Well and good. He was trying to create a non-sense style of humour to make others rejoice on his death. Sometimes he felt ‘The Tribune’ would write this or ‘The Times of India’ write that. But it did not happen. Of all his prophecies, perhaps one stood correct out of his ‘make belief’ obituaries. It reads,”Khushwant Singh, a noted novelist, died in his sleep……”. He wrote his own Epitaph emphasizing how he should be remembered – ‘as a critic, a sod, a blasphemer and a nasty writer (not a good man to remember?), thank God he is dead’. But the most fitting Epitaph is as follows (in Khushwant Singh’s own words with a bit alteration and much addition) and with an apology to this great liberated soul: “Here lies the man whose pen had no condom to wear”; He was a literary sort of Vikky Donor and a great seer. He produced and nurtured writers, journalists, as the Peer; And left behind his affairs, to mourn, crates of whisky and beer.

On Reading 'Half Girlfriend' - A Critique

On Reading ‘Half Girlfriend’: A Critique. The writer of ‘Half Girlfriend’ has caricatured almost the whole of Bihar by introducing a character – Madhav – originally hailed from the hinterland of Patna, but might be said as a representative of any district of Bihar – call him a typical ‘Bihari’ - who happened to be from anywhere of the interior of Musahari or Motihari; Chhapra or Madhopura. The story moves around two main characters, another Delhiite girl, who under certain circumstances becomes his friend – both school fellows - and are proud of being Stephanians. The writer has specifically tried to define the concept of half girlfriend. But it is a confused word and may be interpreted in different ways. The term half brother or half sister is quite prevalent, but concepts like half married and half widowed are of recent origin. In the same way, half girlfriend in its origin, is a recent term, and is liable to be vaguely interpreted by the author himself. In any case, half girlfriend is not very attractive title of the book. Dear author, girlfriend is a value loaded word. It means many things to many persons. It is hope for life. Possession of it is the creation of life, dispossessing means death. Don’t vivisect it by making half or a quarter of it. Love is not surgically operated as you have done. Like his other stories, the writer had again tried to be autobiographical and could not detach himself from the story. A good writer dominates his writings through his thoughts, words and style, and not as a person or a character. Have you ever heard Shakespeare appearing in any of his plays? It is another point that you are trying to set a new trend in writing. Well and good. Your marketing management training has lured you to do so. It is possible this fine story may land you some day in the sphere of acting as a Bollywood star. But this self characterization has its own limits. When the imagination fails a writer, what is left is autobiographical form of writing. You might not be aware of it, but you must be losing some inner talent as a writer in a slow process. A writer must move out of his own orbit. How can a writer expand his horizon unless he changes the orbit? The story of half girlfriend is primarily written for teenagers who accept any form or style of writing without any comment, if it suits their sense of sex and love. They are governed by these basic instincts without any thoughtful provocation. But the writer of half girlfriend does not want to go beyond it. A boy meets girl; they are separated for good. But they meet again only to get separated. They ultimately come together. The concept of half girlfriend is smashed somewhere in the very process of narration only to be converted into a type of live-in relationship – half married, half divorced and a child in between. The writer seems to be a protagonist of new social order – changing the mindset - of young generation. Very subtly he had introduced father- daughter bitter chocolate relationship and also tried to open the path of divorce and re-marriage. In the age of shrinking world and having acquired advanced technical skill, one can hope to serve two Hemispheres together – East and West. It is a sea change from rural Bihar to New York, shuttling almost at will. The writer seems to be weak in style of his narration and describing the story. He seldom tries to read the situation minutely. His expression lacks the literary charm. He does not touch the line of a novelist. He goes on adding one book after another but simply remains a story teller. He is good in making a plot – a fine story – but he is always in hurry to create events, and developing the story, and by doing so he leaves behind much valuable aspect of literary element that goes through the process of a masterly expression of thought and style. He is in no way being called a novelist in literary parlance. The writer claims to be a catalyst of change. But in what way he thinks so? What has he given to the society through his language? He is getting more and more debased in the use of words. His diction is simply getting horrible. ‘Deti hai to de varna kat le’. What does this mean? Mr. Writer, please keep in mind that whatever be the stature of a woman in society - she must be dealt with dignity. Even prostitutes have their self respect. Are you going to elevate womankind with such a language? As a writer you cannot absolve the responsibility. These are not Madhav’s words. This is the writer’s Hindi – not Bihari (Bhojpuri) language – but pure and simple Punjabi-Hindi mixed dialect. This very sentence makes the book a trash. And the word F**king has been so profusely used in the book that it has become the catchword – rather a password – of the book, half girlfriend, without using that you cannot enter into the text to read the sublime passages. ‘F**k or get f**ked’ is the message teenagers can receive from your book. And here in this book you have used abusive word Ch***a also. How nice of you Mr. Writer, to think of changing the society in this way! If you want to become a good novelist you have to mend your language. You have to develop a literary style of creativity with a deep sense of expression which is pleasing to mind and soul. You never try to describe landscape; never try to form images through words; never write passages to beautify text. Bare story surrounded by events with common narration does not make a novel. A novel is a form of writing which requires the creativity of an artist, profoundness of a linguist and perfection of a writer who is able to describe the quality of observation through the choice of his words, easily to be moulded at his command. He must have the sensitivity of revelation and ability to impress upon his readers the view points with his capacity to organize a story of an architectural quality, brick by brick, stone by stone. A good plot – a nice story – is of utmost importance. It must have a definite beginning, middle and an end. It must flow with ups and downs creating rhythm through words. It must carry the universality of some of the deepest human emotions to sustain the story. It is music within heart which comes out spontaneously and reaches the zenith to serve a climax and slowly arrives at the destination as a river flows down calmly into the sea. There is nothing like a set pattern, but the designer has to invent paradigm to bring out a sense of in depth satisfaction and achievement in each of his successive creation. Somehow ‘half girlfriend’ does not come to these expectations. In spite of a good story and a plot, it lacks the smoothness of narration, depth of emotions and sublimity of diction or language. No doubt, the writer has capacity to create a good stuff for his book, but as a columnist or a journalist, he always remains within bounds of a dead line for his story to be sent to the press. This has created in him a hurried style of writing and he has adjusted to the temporariness of journalistic writing than to a more sustained and value added concept of a man of letters. He fills columns but does not prettify his writings. He has been for the last ten years in this profession, but still lacks maturity. If observed minutely, he seemed to have deteriorated a lot in the use of words – rather became more abusive - and dwelled on the surface of the story. How one can make Bihar proud? By f**king a girl and win her over? Has the writer not degenerated in his understanding of the state? There are instances which count in making a story worthy for appreciation or rejection and here one may find many such points of rejection. It is not novel-material but pulp fiction stuff. How can such a writer think that he should be ‘missed’, if not remembered? At most he can be put to the level of yester year (Hindi) writers like Kushwaha Kant or Gulshan Nanda – an English version of them. They had written good stories which were also converted into films, but survived for a decade or two only and never were ‘missed’ because others were in the pipeline to fill the gap. The writer of half girlfriend has great power of creating stories, generating plots, but he does not want to come out of quick fame of journalistic style. He is satisfied with that. He is in essence a columnist, not a writer of great promise. He has to develop the other facet of his personality as a writer. He must come out as a man who knows the art of narration, observation and description; the man who has the capacity to develop literary style of expression, the man who has potential of a novelist of some name and fame. But he has to change his style. I do not want to see him transformed into a Hardy or a Naipaul. Centuries have lapsed; times have changed a lot. But permanent truth can never be obsolete. In ‘half girlfriend’ one may find some traces of a good novelist in making. Just mark the letter – wonderfully set and drafted - in section33, page 189 by Riya to Madhav. This letter surpasses even Hardy’s letter when Tess writes to her lover (in a different context of course) addressing, ‘My Own Husband….’. This letter of Riya creates the climax of the story. It is worth reading, preserving, and appreciating. There are other better expressions too, but they run only up to a line or two. This is unsolicited advice to the writer of ‘half girlfriend’ to accept the challenge as a novelist and rise above the level of a story teller. In spite of all its failings, ‘half girlfriend’, is worthy for reading and appreciating.

Khushwant Singh: Truth, Courage and Agnosticism - An Obituary

Deepika Padukone scolds the Editor : TOI and it's lack of respect for women

The editor of the online entertainment section of TOI tried to redo a Khushwant by morphing – rather zooming and highlighting through an arrow and a circle - the worst kind of act, for better attention of the readers to prove his degenerated sense of sexism with a caption ‘OMG …Cleavage Show’ of an otherwise simple professional photograph of a popular Bollywood actress. What was there in that image which prompted the editor to highlight it? Has he not seen the cleavage of any other woman in his life? With this perverted sense of editorship you can go on making your online edition a sexshop by putting as many arrows, indications and images of woman’s body – breasts, buttocks and pelvis etc till it is contested in the court of law as porno or the sure way of outraging the modesty of a woman. But the common public is not attracted towards it. It pulls down your prestige and makes the mockery of your paper. Perhaps you know the under lying cause how and why Khushwnat singh was fired from Illustrated Weekly? The magazine had ceased to be the carrier of respectable reading material for every household, family and drawing room. Its readers were getting confined to the clubs and coffee houses. Bennett, Coleman and Co had sensed its degeneration and promptly closed down the Weekly. Do you want the same fate for your online edition? People will not remain silent if you do this bakvas any further. Every woman has a right to have dignified and respectful place in the society. You must assure she gets it and see that her modesty is not hurt in any form by your actions directly or indirectly. The time is not far away when apart from Verma Commission’s new definition of rape, the court will also draw a line beyond that print or electronic media cannot go to attract attention through semi or complete nude photographs of women. You put black strip to cover your malafide intentions. But now this will not do. The photo-journalism is a branch of activity which has devoured the good sense of writing and understanding of the editor. Please be in your limit and don’t show to the world that you do not respect your women. You admitted that the heading could be better. But at the same time, in retaliation, you loaded more photographs to bring the situation at the same point from where it had originated. Have you really lost your sense? What you want to project? Yes, she is a woman. She has breasts. So what? She is young, attractive and beautiful. But she is not meant for your entertainment edition to attract readers. You have no right to put arrow or circle over her photograph. It is morphing of a new order. It is a crime. The fault lies in your thought process, approach and understanding of women. It is against sexism, erotica and sensuousness that the women are fighting. The aftermath of Nirbhaya episode should have taught you a lesson. But you have forgotten the tension the society is passing through. You are living in a society which has certain laws – social and legal. You have to obey them. Don’t retaliate if a woman asks you to behave in an orderly manner. She gets now more protected under the law of state than she used to have earlier. Putting online images and zoom them in your interest amount to outraging her modesty. Whatever is the level, the status or position of a woman – high or low – she has to be dealt with dignity, honour and respect? A beggar woman, a household maid or an office girl, an actress or a selected beauty queen, all have the same dignity as a woman as our daughters and sisters. There should be no distinction among them as far as the dignity of a woman is concerned. Why you try to pull her down? Why you call her a calendar girl? How would you feel if I call you a news paper vendor or a hawker? There is no difference between an editor and a news hawker. Both bring news to our door step. You must remember that women are not a sex signs. They are trying hard to change this image. And you must try to understand difference between professional and personal life. It may also be said as the reel vs. real life. You want to project that the photographs which you uploaded in retaliation as a reply belong to her real life. No. They are all stills from professional life. Women are fighting for equality and empowerment but by bringing in a woman’s or man’s anatomy to attract attention is a cheap form of journalism – print or electronic. Don’t peep into a woman’s body; don’t zoom to expose her skin pixel by pixel. Please have respect for women off-screen. You have highlighted the image of the actress encircling her breasts and cleavage. Why? Are you full of shit or have any sense of art form? Your arrows and circles create a doubtful journalism. Surely, the world of online is different from news paper. But underlying philosophy is the same. You have to have a healthy outlook of journalism. You have miserably failed in this test. You seem to have wrongly landed in this field. You can best fit as a pimp. You can attract more clients in that business than what you do to attract readers for your online entertainment section. There is an instance in our cultural history. ‘In the reign of King Dilip, there were no poor, no thieves, no fear among men and women. There was equality among people and no clash of material interest and when there were no unchaste men how could unchaste women be?’ It only means that man is elevating as well as degenerating factor for a woman. Let us accept this truth and the reality of our social life. Let us lift our women high in our mental setup and don’t degrade them only as sex symbols. She needs our help. She is God’s best creation. We must give her dignity, respect and love. I request Bennett, Coleman and co to look into the matter seriously and sack the editor(s) of the online edition of TOI as well as the editor of the entertainment section, if there is any, and replacing them by women editors so that it may get rid of pelvis-penis kind of journalism which has put your online edition into great controversy. Women journalists will at least not play the arrow-circle game and this will also be the test for the management how much respect they show for women.