
At the National Day function of a European country, one of their people mentioned a professor who upheld Indian democracy as a model for the proposed European Union. Good thinking: are we not like a 8220;United States of Europe8221;, with our strong regional identities yoked by a central structure? I left feeling very proud of the magnificence of the Indian dream. Some days later at another European evening, I came crashing down to see how some people buttered up the ambassador, in grotesque parody of the subservient Oriental. Can8217;t we practice un-gushy politeness and splendid disdain, instead? Can we not frame Emerson8217;s words in large letters: 8220;Build a better mousetrap and the world will beat a path to your door8221;? In other words, invest in quality? Disdain chaalu shortcuts, some makhan here, some malai there, as infra dig? Karmasu kaushalam, you know.
Annoyed by this ghastly sight is this why our grandmothers let themselves be hit by lathis?, I slunk fuming into a concert of bhajans at Delhi8217;s India International Centre, by Carnatic singer O.S. Arun of Chennai. The programme seemed carefully chosen. After the Ganesh Vandana and Yakundendu the popular Sanskrit prayer to Sarasvati he sang a modern prayer in Hindi: Sarasvati varade, Bharat ko var de and Bhaktavatsala jana, an abhang in Marathi by Sant Namdev. Next came a Malayalam song to Ayyappa, a Tamil song by nationalist poet Subrahmanya Bharati, a Kannada bhajan by Purandaradasa, Bhadrachalam Ramdas8217; fervent Garudagamana in Telugu and Gayati Vanamali about Krishna in Sanskrit, by Sadashiva Bhrahmendra, the 17th century 8216;Jivanmukta8217; of South India, who was considered to have attained liberation while still in his earthly life. Summing up the message of all these great bhaktas, he sang a modern Hindi bhajan that had the rare effect of making three generations weep openly together in one hall and not care who saw them: Ishwar prem hai, prem ishwar hai/Ram japo, Rahim japo, Buddh japo, Karim japo/ Yesu japo, Nanak japo/Jo bhi japo, O mana, Ishwar prem hai.
Their tears fell into the living flow of our spiritual heritage, so strong and true in our music. There was no dissonance between our languages, no discord between ancient, medieval and modern lyrics. As that radiant company of saints urged, all our weeping was done before the One. Just to lend ourselves a hand, what say we revive the gluesome 8216;Bharat Bhavan8217; khichdi of yore in school and community programmes this winter instead of showcasing regional identity?