Thursday, December 15, 2016

L’Inde : Le débat éternel

Chaque fois que je dis à quelqu’un que je suis d’origine Indienne, il me regarde inévitablement avec curiosité. Les gens ont toujours plusieurs questions à me poser.  Pour quelqu’un qu’était née dans le pays de hindous, plusieurs choses pour elle sont absolument normal: par exemple, pourquoi les hindous sont-ils les végétariens en général? ; Pourquoi eux qui mangent de la viande ne mange pas le bœuf ? ; Pourquoi les hindous croient-ils en plusieurs dieux ? ; comment explique-t-on l’existence simultanée d’un Dieu unique et de milliers de divinités ? Et ainsi de suite.
Mais la question que je trouve la plus difficile à répondre concerne l’état lamentable des femmes en Inde, une question qui a pour conséquence l’infanticide des enfants de sexe féminin. La deuxième porte sur la  superproduction hollywoodienne ,Slumdogs Millionnaire’, c’est-à-dire est-ce-qu’il est  vrai  que presque cinquante pour cent les peuple  de l’économie émergente de le BRICS vivant en dessous du seuil de pauvreté ou la pauvreté profonde ?  Aussi n’oubliez pas la question la plus piquante : l’ironie de la vie perçante des agriculteurs, pourquoi se suicident-ils par milliers chaque année ? Grace à la, révolution verte’ dirigeaient par les spécialistes de l’agriculture et les agriculteurs, le paye se releva d’une famine  imminente dans les années 1960-70. Dans l’Inde de ces jours, les scientifiques s’attroupaient à l’ouest pour les opportunités meilleures et les argriculteurs commettent le suicide. 
Peut-être c’est mieux comme ça : les femmes qui sont l’origine de la naissance ont supprimées dans le utérus plutôt que elles sont le sujet de la souffrance à vie; les agriculteurs qui poussaient la végétation se suicident avant de mourir de faim ; il y a un exode des cerveaux plus mieux des cerveaux reposent inutilisés et le monde sachant la vérité  de dividende démographique grâce à la superproduction ,Slumdogs Millionnaire’, l’Amélie Poulet indienne.

Peut-être est-il préférable de penser aux solutions parce que l’évasion est toujours une solution de facilité. L’Inde joui également des avantages nombreuse. Pour un pays qui est un sous-continent, un pays a sur soi une culture plus riche âgé de cinq mille années, 50 ans sont un temps petit. Dans les articles qui suivent, on discute les avantages et les qualités, qui depuis l’aube de l’humanité attirent l’attention du monde.

Wednesday, December 14, 2016

Eine schönes Wochenende in Köln

Wenn ich an meinen interessanten Urlaub denke, habe ich nostalgische Gefühlen von einem schönen Wochenende in Köln. Ich bin eine Reisende. Jeder Ort wo ich reise, hat eine gesichte zu erzählen: über seine alte ereignisreiche Vergangenheit, über seine kultur, über die Menschen und ihre Essgewohnheiten. Im kurz, er sagt alles über sich. Aber im Köln war ein ganz anderer Urlaub. Köln ist die quelle der Energie und neuer Frische : jedes, fast jedes, Gebaüde ist neu. In dem Stadtzentrum der Köln, steht eine Mittelalterliche Kirche zwischen den neuen Gebaüden. Sie liegt in dem Stadtzentrum. Die Treppe der Kirche geht rund und rund, wie eine endlose Spirale und Man steigt über tausend Schritten hoch nach Oben hin. Von oben der Kirche hatte ich eine tolle Sicht der Stadt. Jedoch der Aufsteig nach Oben der Kirche war eine Herausforderung. Mit der tollen Sicht von oben, ist die Kirche eine wirkliche Touristenattraktion.
Eine andere wichtige Touristenattraktion ist  das ,Haus in der Glockengasse 4 im Köln’. Von allen Menschen, die Assoziierung des Parfüm mit Paris beantragen. War ich keine Ausnahme, bis ich nach Köln gegangen bin, dachte ich dass das Eau de Cologne aus Frankreich kommt. Die Fahrt nach Köln war eine überraschung. Ich lernte dass der aktuelle Name des Parfüms ,Kölnischwasser’ ist und dass der von Johanna Maria Farina ursprünglich hergestellt Duft. Heute,  ,Original Eau de Cologne’ heiβt eine geschützte Herkunftsbezeichnung ist, während der Begriff ,Eau de Cologne’ der Gattungsbegriff für einen leichten Duft ist.

Mit der quelle der Energie, der Kräfte und viele Geschenkschachtel der ,Original Eau de Cologne’ für meine Fruende, fuhr ich weiter nach Bonn, die frühere Hauptstadt Deutschlands.    

Saturday, December 3, 2016

Le weekend à Paris

Le weekend dernier, nous avons passé un bon séjour à Paris. Ce n’était pas mon premier séjour à Paris, mais chaque fois que j’y vais, je découvre quelque chose de nouveau. Paris, c’est ma ville préférée et j’en ai beaucoup de bons souvenirs. Nous sommes arrivés à Paris samedi après-midi. Mon mari avait réservé en avance, une belle chambre dans un hôtel qui se situe près de la tour Eiffel.

Cette tour est l’une des sept merveilles du monde. Nous y sommes allés et montés jusqu’au sommet. On peut voir toute la ville du sommet de la tour. Chaque heure, les lumières LED de la tour éclairent ses environs. C’est un moment vraiment beau. Nos enfants le trouvèrent vraiment drôle. La tour est une vedette et si vous y allez à n’importe quelle heure de la journée, vous la trouvez bondée. Il y a aussi un restaurant Michelin au sommet de la tour Eiffel qui s’appelle Jules Verne. Le restaurant est toujours plein de clients. Si vous voulez manger à ce restaurant, il faut faire la réservation au moins six mois en avance. Ça n’est suffit pas. En même temps, il faut qu’on ait plein d’argent !   

Thursday, October 30, 2014

Of Language, Innovation and Roots: Hindi, the road ahead

When I returned to India after years, my first desire was to speak in my mother tongue in my motherland. I was visiting India on a nostalgic note to connect with my roots and to let my son connect with his. He is born in Europe and is multi-lingual, well-versed in German, French, English and yes, Hindi. I want him to learn the mother-tongue. In a foreign country, separated seven seas by his ancestral land as also his mother’s land, his only connect with the country is the language. While many of the second-generation Indians prefer to speak English with their children, my love for my country never let me do this injustice to my child.
Language is the thread that connects hearts to hearts. Until I was growing up in India, proud of my very middle class upbringing as also my bilingual linguistic abilities, I always preferred to speak English. Not only for my articulation as also appreciation of my neutral accent, but I also took proud in speaking the language of the elite. The abilities took me far. Far ahead I imagined at an early stage of my life. And it was only when I was far rooted from my motherland, I saw the big divide in India. The English speaking elite as opposed to the intellectual in retrospect, possibly original thinkers who spoke only one language, the Hindi. As I globe-trotted, I was often asked, so what language do you speak. Proudly, I always replied, that most of us speak English. And the instant response was, 'right, India was the former colony of the British and you have a legacy from your imperialist rulers. You are benefitting from the language. Apparently all the call centers and back office work is getting shifted to India.’  I do not know how does an average Indian feel about this, but personally, having globetrotted, the emerging call center culture does not make me very proud. It made me question, why did the British introduce English in the first place? Was their objective to unite India, to emancipate India or to connect India to the world. Actually speaking, none of these. Lord Macualy, who is credited with introduction of English, as a medium of instruction in the country, while presenting his thoughts in “Minute Upon Indian Education” stated:
“We must at present do our best to form a class who may be interpreters between us and the millions whom we govern; a class of persons, Indian in blood and colour, but English in taste, in opinions, in morals, and in intellect. To that class we may leave it to refine the vernacular dialects of the country, to enrich those dialects with terms of science borrowed from the Western nomenclature, and to render them by degrees fit vehicles for conveying knowledge to the great mass of the population.”
Today, having successfully fulfilled that objective, Lord Macualy must be smiling in his grave. We have a class of Indians, who speak the language of the elite, all the new literature is produced in the language of the elite and your success in life, in modern India depends more on the knowledge of foreign language and literature, then the knowledge of your own national language or mother tongue. 
Today, someone’s knowledge of Hindi, Sanskrit, or any of the vernacular languages will not get him even a post as collector in a distant Indian village; rather one should be able to speak fluent English to clear even entrance exams. One’s knowledge of the rich Indian literature, of the thoughts of Premchand, Bharatahiri, shlokas from Bhagwad Geeta or the Chankaya Neeti will not help one clear the interview and the group discussion; instead I must know what Shakespeare and Mark Twain said. 
There are many negative fallouts with this. First, on one hand, while the modern English-speaking elite is getting connected to the outer world, whereas on the other, the simple Hindi-speaking villager is getting more and more disconnected to his own Indian fellows.
Second, language is an important thread in a culture. Language unites people. When I speak French to a French, they consider me as one of their own. But when I am speaking in English, to an Indian which is a foreign language for both of us, what is the emotional connection that we develop?
Third, one of the frequent criticisms, one reads in newspapers against Hindi in offices is that English produces intellect. But this is not true. It is well-known that different parts of the brain perform different functions. Left-brained people are usually more logical, analytical and objective whereas the right-brained are known to be intuitive, thoughtful and subjective. Intellect is a function of the brain, as also a desire to learn. No language, until it teaches you logic can help develop your logic. If the objective was to develop logic, then why do not we have German as the official language? German is much more structured, much more logical and hardly has any exceptions. Or perhaps Sanskrit or Latin, which albeit dead, are extremely logical languages.
If we really want to connect India to the world, we must first have a cultural and linguistic ethos that connects each one of us to each other. It is sad to see that India is the ‘only’ country of its size and history, that does not have one common language spoken by all its citizens.
If language means intellect, I believe the nation should embrace the diversity of its languages.  Some 450 million Indians speak Hindi and the language is that Hindi is the only means of communication for them. So, this perhaps is the easiest way to spread literacy and education amongst those millions of Indians. 
And finally, I am not arguing to turn away from English. I only argue to take pride in Hindi. I only argue for the country to have a national language that unites the country and that everyone can speak perfectly. So, either, we should invest enough in teaching some 1.3 billion in speaking coherent, perfect, mother-tongue like English or we should embrace and officially communicate in a language that the nation naturally speaks.


Monday, July 21, 2014

Bollywood’s race to bottom

First fevicol se, then baby doll and aaj dil hai paani paani, and my sinking heart asked is this Bollywood’s race to the bottom. My notion of Bollywood as the eternal die hard romantic in Veer Zaara, dil ek mandir, DDLJ came crashing down. The 1960’s Bollywood classic with the evergreen number ‘hum tere pyaar me sara alam ko bethe’(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=onb3sBz3xV4) set high standards for the society in terms of lifelong commitment, family values and a definition of love that meant sacrifice, faith and commitment. Some fifty years later, the great grandchildren of those once teaching the virtues of family, now dancing to the tunes of fevicol se makes eternal Bollywood fans like me wonder, if this is the Hindi film’s race to the bottom. Scantily dressed, titillating actresses falling in and out of love, like waking up from a dream and villain like heros, fading away the strong difference that once existed between the virtuous Bollywood hero and the treacherous villain, Bollywood surely is setting new standards. And the standards so set are certainly not the ones to emulate. Until the elegance of Hum Aapke Hain Kaun, My Name is Khan and Veer Zaara returns, Hollywood and Follywood are the new favourites. At least they act elegantly while Bollywood continues to attract audience through its cheap and titillating  scenes.

Saturday, April 26, 2014

Holy cows' tryst with maddening Delhi traffic

Delhi roads are famous for their chaotic traffic, honking cars, polluting vehicles and snarling traffic. But the roads also have a green and innovative way to control speeding vehicles. On a hot sunny afternoon, as I rushed my car to reach my destination, the fast moving traffic under the flyover came to a sudden disruptive halt. I horned uninterupted, as honking is considered experienced driving in India. But the vehicle ahead of me refused to buzz. I gave in and joined the snarling traffic. A few meters and some ten minutes later I discovered the reason for the sudden halt. There were a bunch of cows gesticulating their afternoon meal under the shade of the flyover. Cows on Delhi roads are no surprise. As a Delhite, I grew up with their omnipresence amidst fast moving chaotic traffic. And yes, I love cows. In Hindu mythology, they are seen as mother, one of the holiest creations of the Divine. There are many historical reasons for the reverance. Predominatly a vegetarian society, the Hindus considered cow to be the purest of all animals. She is my favoraite Lord Krishna's favoraite. The handsome Krishna with his flute hypnotising the grazing cows to the melody of his Divine music or the lovable baby Krishna smeared with butter from cow's milk are some of the images that fill my heart and soul everytime I see the beautiful wide-eyed creature. It is sad the way they are left by their owners on the road and how the innocent creatures spend their day looking for a handful shade, eating plastic polythene bags from the garbage and sitting amidst moving traffic bringing vehicles to a sudden halt. Isnt it an irony, in a land where the cow is reverred to be holy, she is treated with such apathy. Blissfully unaware of their divine status, the holy cow sits on ring roads, highways creating danger for their own lives as also the drivers on the roads.

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Crossroads..

If there was one tough moment, it was this one. I had just left home. Flying from one home to another. Visited Los Santos to see my parents. Mummy just had a knee replacement. Rehabilitation is not easy. It takes months. It was sad to see her walking in pain. More difficult still to see her learn to walk all over again. She who taught me how to walk once, was learning to walk all over again. I could not do much,except to watch with a sense of helpless angst. With a heavy heart, left home to fly back to another. With little Krishna in my arms, I had learnt to be strong. Strong enough to take difficult decisions. Just as I flew back, I received a call again. This time mummy had a seizure attack. It was difficult and more challenging still, as I could not say 'no, I can't come back' and neither could I take my Krishna along with me. So, it was time to act, time to fly back and this time without my little baby, he who means the world to me. On one side, there were these reflections from my past, my childhood, an old mother who taught me once how to walk, talk and made endless sacrifices to be what I am today. And on the other, was the little future in my arms, the one for whom I am the world. Krishna had not stayed without me for a single day even once. Completely pampered and loved, I was unsure if he had the strength to be without me. To ease my decision-making, smilingly my husband said that in their native language, they say, one should neither take care of the old as they die, nor the children, as they forget everything once they grow up. I retorted, so who should one look after. Teasingly, he replied, of course the young, as they will live long enough to remember the service that someone once did to them. The parable did make it easier for me to make a decision. Praying that Krishna will not remember in a few months time, that he was without mummy at some point of time and that sometimes papa-son should have a date too, I flew back once more. It was mummy who was in one of the most crucial stages of her life and perhaps she needed me much more, at this one precise moment.
As I sit and wait for the outcome of the operation, it is not the fear of the operation that fears me. More fearsome is the outcomes that the operation may bring along, any further challenges that life may have in store. Hopping against hope, I pray and watch; for hope is the quintessential enigma that keeps us all alive and living.