The Kinky Mahatma and the prickly Indians

We Indians are a rather prickly lot when it comes any writings on the private lives of our national icons – especially if it is by foreign authors. It is telling that, Indian writers generally steer clear of such “taboo” topics (barring a few like Sudhir Kakar) preferring not to court controversy and brick-bats. Western societies are far less touchy on such matters. You may call it chauvinistic hypocrisy or traits of a schizophrenic national character. It is common knowledge that many of our politicians lead rather colourful (nay,sleazy) lives, but our journos maintain a complicit silence over such stories – which you get to hear in the media cocktail circuit (with the rare exception of some toothless octogenerians like N. D. Tiwari and that too because the matter came into public domain due to a paternity suit filed by an alleged off-spring and his romps at the Hyderabad Raj Bhavan). JFK to Berlusconi

Yet, when it comes to salacious gossip about the sex lives of politicians of other countries – be it a Sarkozy, Berlusconi or serial scandals of British parliamentarians – we gleefully lap it all up and give them prime column space in our newspapers. Stories abound about the numerous love affairs of JFK but we get uptight at the mention of the Nehru-Edwina affair. A biography of Ambdkar that, is given a quiet burial because it mentioned his girl-friends.We fill our pages with pictures and stories of Prince William and his Kate - but never talk about our own Prince-in-waiting's Spanish girl-friend. Curiously, we apply different standards even for our neighbours in the sub-continent. After Shahbaz Bhatti – the liberal Governor of Pakistan’s Punjab province – was assassinated recently, a leading magazine carried a story about his playboy past – including details of his love child with a yesteryear diva of Indian media – now a significant other of a well-know industrialist. Perhaps, there was some professional envy at play there. So – every once in a few years when there is a new book on Gandhi that contains some references to his sexuality (something Gandhi had himself dwelt at some length in his Autobiography – My Experiments with Truth ) there is predictable public outrage followed by demand for banning of the book that finally whittles down to cynical dismissal as a cheap ‘publicity stunt’. The latest being the biography written by the Pulitzer winning former editor of New York Times – Joseph Lelyveld (Great Soul: Mahatma Gandhi and His Struggle with India). In what is by all accounts a very well researched biography – what has made head-lines are some passing quotations from letters written by Gandhi to his proclaimed “soulmate” Hermann Kallenbach, which has strong hints of his homosexual tendencies. “Your portrait (the only one) stands on my mantelpiece in my bedroom. The mantelpiece is opposite my bed…..how completely you have taken possession of my body. This is slavery with vengeance”, he wrote to Kallenbach, a wealthy bachelor of who later donated large parts of his considerable fortunes to Gandhi and remained his “follower” for life. Such is the extent of our blind worship that – we unquestioningly accept Gandhi’s somewhat specious explanation of why he chose to sleep naked with nubile young female companions. Boudi Boudoir

We are equally reticent about the love lives of our celebrities in the world of arts, film and literature. Stories abound about of the scores of muses (read, lovers) Tagore had in his long lifetime starting at a very young age with his sister-in-law (legitimizing the “boudi boudoir” tradition among Bongs) - but none of that is documented. Satyajit Ray’s affair with the heroine of some of his early masterpieces came to light after his death – when the lady in question decided to speak up. But, it was allowed to die down and we were happy to believe his wife’s version that apart from that one instance of straying (which she magnanimously condones as an error of judgement) he never looked outside of his marriage – though, some knowledgeable persons have their own casting couch theories. Sudhir Kakar, Jeffrey Kripal and some other psychologists have espoused controversial theories about Sri Ramakrishna’s sexuality, which have met with rightful condemnation from the “believers” (including yours truly).

Sex(uality) maketh a man

All this is not about vicarious voyeurism. What we fail to recognize is that, a person’s sexuality is a very important part in his evolution. You cannot fathom a great person in totality without understanding his sexuality. Though I wouldn’t go as far as saying ‘sex maketh a man’ (in more senses than one) – it certainly forms the essence of his personality. Even as Lelyveld himself argues "it is an effort of imagination that we should at least attempt" in our trying to understand what Gandhi aspired through his 'experiments'(he calls it a form of 'sexlessness' rather than bi-sexualism - or what is referred to as 'flexi-sexualism nowadays). We tend to easily deify our heroes and like to see them only in white. But, it is the shades of black and grey that truly defines them. Certainly – a Nityananda is no Gandhi – but I wonder what would have been the public reaction to similar “experiments” conducted – be it within the confines of a commune – in the this day and age - with our spycams and 'sting' operations.

In Bed with Ghosh

A friend tickled my interest with a teasing text message – “ In bed with Ghosh”. Generally I am a little wary of buying over-hyped books soon after their release. Vikram Seth’s Two lives and Vikram Chandra’s Sacred Games were 2 such disappointments in the recent past. I couldn’t go beyond the first 100 pages of the first and not even 50 pages of the second. So, I was a little hesitant in picking up Amitava Ghosh’s latest – the Sea of Poppies despite the rave reviews all over (and, now, also a nomination for the Booker).

Till date Ghosh’ Shadow Lines remains my favourite with the Hungry Tide coming a close second. Somehow his Glass Palace, liked a lot by many, didn’t do much for me – I thought it somehow lost its way between a family saga and a historical epic - tho’ its sprawling canvas and gigantic sweep are truly awe-inspiring. Ghosh’s prose often leaves me a little cold. It doesn’t have the soul uplifting quality that I look for in a great book. While I certainly don’t have the temerity to go as far as Hugo Barnacle to say – “There isn't one badly composed sentence in the book……, there isn't one particularly good sentence, either” , his impeccably constructed sentences fail to challenge the reader's imagination.

Infact, what’s perhaps Ghosh’s singular strength among Indian authors writing in English ( don’t think they use the term Indo-Anglican anymore) – his rigorous research also turns out to be his greatest weakness. His narrative is often weighed down by the copious details – which read like what should have appeared as footnotes in a thesis built into the main body of the text. It reminds me of our student days – when we were well prepared for an exam – we tried to pack in everything we had studied into the answer. Similarly, at times he gives the impression of getting carried away displaying his erudition on the subject – leading the unsuspecting reader to miss the woods for the trees.

For me, the Hungry Tide was an exception – its narrative soared to great heights as the killer tide raged through the Matla. He never let the details take over the story. Even in parts where there was either a historical background or an anthropological data they were seamlessly woven into the plot. This, sadly, didn’t happen – at least for me – in the Glass Palace, where the various strands seemed to come apart towards the end.

Reverse Parochialism

And yet, though I am not usually prone to parochial chauvinism, I end up gifting Ghosh’ books to many a friend. That’s because – among the new breed of Indian authors I find him to be the most consistent and none of his books can be dismissed as bad fiction or being light weight ( something that can’t be said even about Rushdie – who I don’t think has written a single worthwhile book after Midnight’s Children and I find most of his heavy tomes not just forgettable but at times downright unreadable)

I have so far come upto some 150 odd pages of the Sea of Poppies – as the IBIS takes berth in the Hooghly. The description of the of the Poppy fields and the Opium factory in Ghazipur is riveting – as indeed is the tale of Zachary Reid and his band of lascars and serangs who steer the schooner (which was once used for ferrying slaves from West Africa) to its new owner – Benjamin Burnham in Calcutta who had purchased it for shipping opium to China. But, there are times I do wish that Ghosh hadn’t come upon reference material such as “ An English and Hindostanee Naval Dictionary of Technical Terms” or “Anglo-Indian Vocabulary of Nautical terms and the Glossary of Anglo-Indian Words and Phrases”. I find myself constantly tripping over the forced colloquialism – often breaking the rhythm and cadence of the read.

But, I’ll reserve my judgement – for what it’s worth – till the IBIS completes her voyage.

Of Falls and Failings

The other very interesting book I am reading in tandem is Sudhir Kakar’s collection of essays – “Mad and Divine”. In the first article – titled “The Childhood of a Spiritually Incorrect Guru : OSHO ”. All things said, there is no denying that Rajneesh was a remarkable character – deeply charismatic even if a fascinating charlatan. Kakar has tried to unravel the phenomenon that was OSHO by tracing his evolution through the journey from his childhood with not just the insights of a master psychoanalyst but also with the sensitivity of a novelist.

I have always been intrigued at how so many of these self-proclaimed God-men and Gurus - merchants of the Spiritual Bazars as I like to call them - stray from their “path”. A simple Google search would reveal that – almost all ‘big brands’ exported to the West have got embroiled in some sexual scandal or other – starting from the great Mahesh Yogi, Swami Rama, Kriyananda to the latest one in a Texas (Austin) Ashram – who is out on a multi-million dollar bail for charges of paedophilia.

I know many of you would assert that, there was no question of a fall or straying as their chosen “path” was far from straight to begin with. But, I would like to give the benefit of doubt at least to some of them if not all. That’s because – I genuinely believe ( and, here I am not trying to make a case for myself ) that it is the same “vital energy” which drives both the spiritual and primal urges. This is clearly recognized in Tantra. And, it is for the same reason – the ancient sages have always stipulated exercise of abundant caution in climbing up the serpent (Kundalini) as it were – otherwise, face the risk of a grave fall. Ramakrishna and Swami V – who prescribed strict abstinence for the true spiritual aspirant, enunciated the same principles in more recent times.

Kakar explains this beautifully, when he writes:

“…..the spirit when it soars pulls up the psyche in its wake. But… the spirit never completely escapes the gravitational pull exerted by the forces of narcissism, aggression and desire in the psyche..”

then he goes on to add – “what may be essential for our gaze, however, is to attend to the vision of the spirit’s soaring, not the oft-repeated tragedy of its fall.”

Gol-Maal

I find this resonating strongly with 2 other teachings of Ramakrishna. He used to say “ Jadio Amar Guru Shudi Bari Jaye.. tabuo amar Guru Nityananda Ray” – which roughly translated means – even if my Guru goes to a bar or a brothel, he would still be my Guru. Or putting it more simply, he would say – that the world is full of “Gol-Maal” , it is for us to eliminate the “Gol” and take the “Maal”

The next essay in the book is - “Seduction and the Saint”. I would be dishonest – if I say that, I am not looking forward to reading it a wee bit more than the next chapter of the Sea of Poppies.