A renaming spree was, apparently, always part of the plan to mark 75 years of India’s Independence. The celebrations proposed under “Azaadi Ka Amrit Mahotsav” include a determined effort to shed the last vestiges of colonialism, the latest casualty being the erstwhile Mughal Gardens. A century after conception, Rashtrapati Bhawan’s resplendent lawn that blazes with colour and heady fragrances in February, will be known by the somewhat dour and righteous sounding Amrit Udyan. Ironically enough, the layout was planned by a Britisher who had the magnanimity to name it Mughal Gardens, since its style borrows heavily from that golden era of design: of geometric patterns, fountains and terraced pools.
If Delhi’s fleeting spring of bloom and beauty is diminished (ever so slightly) by these exhausting symbolic gestures, conjured up by, let us say, a mythical Ministry of Nomenclature, we may take comfort in knowing that contiguous impressions of places formed over a lifetime, aren’t so easy to dislodge from imagination. Geographical renaming may be trendy right now but familiar, colloquial expressions persist and are hard to shake off. How many of us think of Burma as Myanmar? It is worth noting every Chinese restaurant worth its salt continues to serve a Peking Duck, decades after China’s capital’s transliteration was changed to “Beijing”. Mumbaikars never really replaced Bombayites either but cynical citizens believe the city’s deterioration began right after the name change.
“What’s in a name?” questioned Shakespeare in Romeo and Juliet, putting forward the idea that names merely aid in distinguishing between things and people but otherwise hold no intrinsic worth. Juliet can’t associate with Romeo because of a long-running family feud with the Montagues; and it’s sheer randomness of fate that her beloved’s surname dooms them both to tragedy. She correctly observes ‘That which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet’ but one can respectfully disagree with Shakespeare here to suggest a name is also a critical identity — and being called as such across time spanning centuries — makes it impossible that a rose could suddenly become a petunia. So, when Raj Path becomes Kartavya Path or the Mughal Gardens become Amrit Udyan, it feels like the creation of a whole new entity; and a casual dismissing of our collective past.
Even the most die-hard nationalist responds reluctantly to governments arbitrarily shelving away the portions of history that don’t serve them, for the simple reason that most of us have a hard enough time figuring out the world and our place in it. This off-with-the-old attitude, in favour of grand, new narratives, only adds to existential confusion: was everything taught in Social Sciences textbooks utterly unreliable? Or, does the transient nature of things extend to documented archives — and much like the ephemeral flowers at Amrit Udyan — may vanish before our eyes? For those who harbour a vague conviction that the purpose of life is to search for the truth, it is something to ponder that the greatest of civilizations can be erased from memory, merely because a new generation is eager to carve out a different reality.
The history of the world is populated with stories of gods and heroes, wars and legends, ancient wonders, and the millions of painstaking, incremental changes that have led to this moment. Wisdom lies in embracing it all, the vile monarchs and cunning imperialists who have been exposed with wearying regularity, bringing us just a little closer to the dream of a utopian society.
The Centre’s effort to remove any trace of a ‘colonial mindset’ disregards the lessons turbulence brings. Something like the Japanese philosophy of kintsugi, meaning, literally, ‘to join with gold’. In Zen aesthetics, shattered ceramics aren’t thrown away nor the damage disguised; rather, they’re repaired with gold lacquer, their gleaming fault lines proudly displayed. There’s much to learn from that underlying theme of reconciliation; that it’s only after an honest reckoning with the past that any real understanding begins.
The writer is director, Hutkay Films
