Sunday, March 24, 2013

A healing space


SANJEEV JAIN & PRATIMA MURTHY

The National Institute of Mental Health and Neuro Sciences (NIMHANS), located on the grounds of the erstwhile Mysore State Mental Hospital, was designed as the first modern, open mental hospital in the early 20th century.

The man behind this was Frank Noronha. The hospital’s origins, and its development in the context of the medical and social history of Bangalore (and India), thus offer a glimpse into the influences that shaped mental health services and education in India.

Frank (Francis Xavier) Noronha, born in 1878, studied at the Madras Medical College, joined the Mysore Medical service, and also served in the Army. After the First World War, when efforts were made to improve the care of the mentally ill, Noronha became one of the first doctors to be formally trained in psychiatry at the new Institute of Psychiatry in London.

The building, however, was a successor to a century of work and ideas. Dr Charles Irving Smith was born in Bangalore in 1809. After his education as a doctor in the U.K., he started his career in the same city in 1831 and began treating patients with ‘lunacy and mania’ at the Hospital for Soldiers, Peons and Paupers, which was established in the Bangalore Cantonment area as one of the first civic services provided under the rule of the East India Company. Dr. Smith also contributed immensely to the establishment and improvement of hospitals in Mysore, and later served as the Inspector-General of Hospitals for Madras and Rangoon.

Till the late 19th century, the Mysore Kingdom (which had become independent following the Rendition of 1881 and the Government having reverted to that of the Maharaja) was the only native kingdom that supported a lunatic asylum. It was thus identified as one of the regions of progressive governance, and its commitment to improving medical services was further strengthened by its support for many large hospitals in Bangalore and Mysore. A larger asylum was recommended as the population was likely to grow from the 150,000 that it was at that time!

Dr. F. Noronha was thus sent off to the U.K. in 1922 to train as a professional psychiatrist and also to manage the new asylum being planned. On passing his DPM exam, he became a member of the Royal College in 1924, where he was introduced by Sir Frederick Mott (a famous psychiatrist and geneticist). On his return, he improved the case notes and introduced a formal examination and files for every patient, and many other reforms (including the diet). Equally importantly, by this time, the financial burdens of the First World War were getting over, and the Kingdom finally had enough resources. Though initially a site in Mysore (close to Huikal lake) had been mooted, Dr. Noronha was of the firm opinion that Bangalore was to be preferred as it was close to already established large medical facilities and “ which (while) being fairly away from the main centres of population will still be within easy reach of the principal medical institutions”.Photo: K. Bhagya Prakash



The second highest hillock in Bangalore (the highest having been developed as the Indian Institute of Science) was thus chosen. Sir Mirza Ismail was the Dewan by then and he shared a passion for gardens and well-designed public spaces with Dr. Noronha. Sir Mirza Ismail believed that well looked-after gardens and avenues cost little but yielded much “in the effect (they) had on peoples’ minds”.
Dr Noronha was also a very keen gardener, and many of the trees were chosen by him, in discussion with Gustav Krumbiegel, the eminent botanist from Germany, who designed the gardens at the Bangalore Palace at that time, and the Lal Bagh. More than 75 species of trees, both native and exotic, can be found in the campus of the Hospital. The plans of the garden were prepared in conjunction with those of the building, and Dewan Mirza Ismail was very proud of the fact that they had created parks in the Mental Hospital, which were often used as picnic-grounds for the citizens of Bangalore (and thus by association, the stigma and exclusion of mental illness was reduced).

The new building itself was loosely based on the plans of the Institute of Psychiatry building, then was housed at the Bethlem hospital site in Moorfields. It was constructed by the civil engineering firm, the Mysore Engineering Company (MEC), which was staffed entirely by Indian engineers and was responsible for many public works. It was considered essential that the spaces in an asylum provide an environment conducive for recovery, and this principle lay at the root of asylum design, where “where one could be both mad and safe”.

This careful consideration to a healing environment contrasted sharply with other asylums in India, which were often hand-me-downs from jails or barracks. This building, and the Hospital for Europeans and Indians in Ranchi, were the only two custom-built asylums in British India in the early 20th century, and were designed with the explicit purpose of providing a healing environment, and with all the necessary ‘modern’ attributes. The old asylum on Avenue Road was closed, and the staff and patients moved to this site in 1937.

Prof. E. Mapother, who headed the Institute of Psychiatry in London, while on a visit to India in 1937, was so impressed by the Mental Hospital in Bangalore that he strongly recommended it as the only one fit to impart post-graduate training and also because Bangalore was modern, cosmopolitan and free of communal or anti-Western feelings. His suggestions to the pre-Independence reform process were probably instrumental in the decisions made soon after, and the AIIMH was formally established in 1954 in association with the Mysore State Mental Hospital. Psychiatric services of Mysore, which began in the 1830s, thus, became part of the social life of Bangalore, and India. The Asylum has evolved into an Institute of some renown, and its services are used by more than 1000 persons every day. Almost 1000 psychiatrists, and several hundred other specialists have trained here and it has now become a hub for research into many aspects of the brain and mind.

Institutional histories are not merely an account of the brick and mortar, but also the ideas (and the trees) that are planted and nourished therein. The attention to the needs of the disadvantaged, provision of the best possible care for them, in the best possible environment, and concern for both the physical and mental spaces that surround those with mental illness, indicated a deep concern about the lives of the citizens.

The garden and the building are to be seen as a manifestation of this ideal, and perhaps deserve a heritage status. As we celebrate 75 years of the building, and its gardens, one would do well to remember those ambitions.

(Prof. Sanjeev Jain is Head of Department of Psychiatry, NIMHANS. Prof. Pratima Murthy heads the Centre for Addiction Medicine in the Dept. of Psychiatry, NIMHANS.)


http://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-features/tp-sundaymagazine/a-healing-space/article4543062.ece

Monday, March 8, 2010

Relegate religion

For thousands of years, religion has been a dominant force in human society. History does not record anywhere and at any time of a religion that has any rational basis. The greatest vicissitude of things among men is the vicissitude of sects and religions. All religions, with their gods, demigods, prophets, messiahs and saints, are the product of the fancy and credulity of men who had not reached the full development and complete possession of their intellectual powers. They focus on specific supernatural, metaphysical, and moral claims about reality (the cosmos and human nature) which resulted in a set of religious laws, ethics, and a particular lifestyle. We have enough religion to make us hate, but not enough to make us love one another.

Record of exploitations

Religion encompasses ancestral or cultural traditions, writings, history, and mythology, as well as personal faith and religious experience. Religious persecution down the ages has been done under what is claimed to be the command of God. God is always associated with those things that we do not understand. Criticism of religion is discouraged and stifled. It remains socially unacceptable to point out the main objections which sceptics and freethinkers have about religion.

History is replete with recorded abuses and savageries of organised religion when it comes to power. Live burials, beatings, burnings, cannibalism, buying and selling of human beings, and the chopping off of heads, hands, feet, ears and plucking out of eyes all fill the pages of the Holy Books. Human sacrifices to appease the gods. The Crusades. The Inquisition. The suppression and the execution of millions of women. Pogroms against Jews. The Holocaust. Jonestown, Guyana.

Believers are indoctrinated to ignore the bloody history of religion, and to pay effusive lip service to belief in God and God's holy representatives on earth. Ordained ministers and priests are “men of God,” “God's holy instruments,” a race apart, anointed. It is no wonder that these men who wish to misuse power and betray trust are in a unique position to do so. Newspapers are full of reports of financial exploitation, sexual transgressions, the criminal and sexual abuse of children, and women by these ordained men.

Havelock Ellis wrote: “In all countries, religion or superstition is closely related with crime.” Religious doctrine encourages power inequities toward women and children, and such inequities invariably lead to abuse. “The primary epiphenomena of any religion's foundation are the production and flourishment of hypocrisy, megalomania and psychopathy, and the first casualties of a religion's establishment are the intentions of its founder.”- Emily Brontë.

It is reason not imagination, that determines what is probable and what is not. A man's ethical behaviour should be based effectually on sympathy, education, and social ties and needs; no religious basis is necessary.

We no longer need to be threatened with eternal torture or tempted by eternal bliss in order to form a civilised society.

Man would indeed be in a poor way if he had to be restrained by fear of punishment and hope of reward after death. Like dandruff, most people do have a religion and spend time and money on it and seem to derive considerable pleasure from fiddling with it.

JEMILA SAMERIN

http://www.hindu.com/op/2010/03/07/stories/2010030750021400.htm

Friday, May 29, 2009

The diet report

Eat really well and still lose weight? SHONALI MUTHALALY achieves the impossible after a six-week diet plan prescribed by famous nutritionist Rujuta Diwekar



I’m terrified of Rujuta Diwekar. I quake when I see her name in my gmail inbox. Especially, if I’ve been eating cake.

Author of the just-released “Don’t lose your mind, Lose your weight”, published by Random House, Mumbai-based Rujuta is a sports nutritionist, trainer of marathon runners and dietician. She’s the fêted creator of the diet that made Kareena Kapoor into what’s been tediously touted as: ‘size zero’. A couple of months ago, Random House, like The Godfather’s Don Corleone, made me an offer I could not refuse. Unfortunately, it did not involve pizza.

Rujuta, who has worked with a glittering array of celebrities, ranging from the Bollywood brigade (the Kapoor sisters, Saif Ali Khan, Sonali Bendre) to hot-shot industrialists such as Anil Ambani (who she trained for the Mumbai marathon) became my dietician. And, Project Shonali-Put-Down-That-Cheesecake began.

I’m a diet cynic, though I do dream of the day when there’ll be a magic pill that’ll stop French fries from evilly settling in inconvenient places. The only time I tried a fad diet was went I went on the gruelling seven-day GM (Day one: fruits; Day two: vegetables…), during which I was so bad tempered that strong men used to climb trees when they saw me coming.

So, when I first spoke to Rujuta, I snottily asked for the magic formula. Which is when she asked me to write down every single thing I ate for the past three days.

My diet recall made both of us squeal in horror. You know that rule about how food from a friend’s plate doesn’t count? Apparently, it does. Gasp. Rujuta pointed out how a bit of a brownie here, a bite of a samosa there, a couple of biscuits with tea… all add up. And land right in the places that make you less violin and more ghatam.

I’m a food critic. I eat out almost six times a week. And yet, Rujuta said I was starving. Apparently, most of us are completely starved of nutrition, especially if we tend to eat on the go. Which is why we feel like eating sweets or chips. For our bodies, they are just quick energy sources.

The trick is to eat seven small meals, and make sure they’re nutritious. I ate cheese, peanuts and bananas. I had paneer stir-fry dinners. Grilled fish. Almonds and figs. Expecting months of sawdust and hot water, it was a pleasant surprise. Rujuta, who’s a straight-talking, no-nonsense kind of person, kept a strict eye on me, and I had to note down everything I ate and e-mail her. It’s a great way of keeping a person honest, really. I cringed fearfully every time I went off track and had to write things like 25 French fries.

My biggest challenge was to break what she called my ‘fasting, feasting’ pattern, something I see almost all my friends do. Eat a wicked dinner, then have coffee for breakfast, soup for lunch and finally go nuts by 4 p.m., frantically vacuuming up calories like hungry hippos at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

“We just don’t want to believe that we can enjoy eating correct. Dieting is supposed to be painful… Weight loss is the most abused, most misunderstood word,” she says.

Which is how so many companies make so much money out of fad diets and false promises. People are desperate to believe that they can drop 20 kg and be bikini-ready in a matter of weeks. “There are places that charge you per kilo — like you’re buying onions,” says Rujuta, adding that the only way to lose weight is slowly and sensibly. “Wake up on time, sleep on time, exercise regularly.” And eat. “We can lose weight only if we eat.”

So, I ate every couple of hours. I drank intimidating quantities of water (Rujuta recommends five litres, though I never really accomplished that). I tried to follow the meal plan.

Rujuta said I’d feel results immediately. I hate to sound like one of those nauseatingly ecstatic TV advertisements, but she was right. I was so cheerful, energetic and bouncy that my friends found me positively irritating. One of them took to putting her hand on top of my head to stop me jumping all day. My hair shone, my skin gleamed and my jeans got delightfully loose.

Then came the holiday season, during which I went off the diet and threw myself into Christmas cake with a vengeance. Astonishingly, I haven’t regained any of the weight I lost in those six weeks or so. Rujuta says it’s because I built lean muscle, burnt fat and raised my metabolism instead of just losing muscle and water, which are the first to be sacrificed in fad diets.

It’s not easy. But not terribly difficult either. “You have to make a lifelong commitment,” says Rujuta, adding thoughtfully, “crash dieting is like a fling with a bad boy… even when you’re in it, you know it’s not going to work long term.” Been there. Done that. She’s right.

RUJUTA ON SIZE ZERO

“I honestly had no idea what it was. I don’t think Kareena knew what size zero was. I Googled it only because I knew people were going to ask me. I don’t know if she would even fit into size 0!

About her being unhealthy, why would she be? She started eating better, eating more. A lot of us gain weight because we do not eat enough… People assume there have to be negative effects when the results are so dramatic. It’s too much for them to believe that you can lose weight, look great and still be healthy. It’s too logical, too boring. So they come up with the ‘Size 0’ controversy.”

A SAMPLE DIET

7.15 a.m.: 1 banana

(Breakfast, gym days) muesli + skim milk + 1 scoop whey protein

(Non-gym days) 2 egg whites + 1 slice of whole wheat toast

10 a.m. to 10.30 a.m.: A handful of peanuts

1.30 p.m.: 1 roti + vegetables + dal

3.30 p.m.: a bowl of curd

5.30 p.m.: Soy milk – any flavour

7.30 p.m.: 2 egg whites or 1 chicken breast + home made vegetable or veg salad


http://www.hindu.com/mp/2009/02/02/stories/2009020250700100.htm

Friday, January 2, 2009

Vivek @ Muzaffar

AHMEDABAD: The New Year may dawn with a ray of hope for Mohammed Salim Sheikh and Jebunnisa to reunite with their lost son. Adopting a humanitarian approach, the Gujarat High Court has ordered the foster parents of “Vivek” to allow his biological parents to call on him once a week.

Salim and Jebunnisa had no idea of what happened to their two-and-a-half-year-old son, Muzaffar, who had been missing since February 28, 2002, when a frenzied crowd attacked the house of the former Congress MP, Ehsan Jafri, at Gulberg Society in the Chamanpura locality here.

The Salims had taken refuge in Mr. Jafri’s house, hoping that the influential leader would be able to save their lives. But when Mr. Jafri himself fell victim to the mob fury, the Salims fled the house but, in the melee, lost Muzaffar.

Since Muzaffar was not located among the charred bodies of the people burnt alive in Mr. Jafri’s house, the Salims had a faint hope that their son might still be alive. But for nearly six years, they had no idea of his whereabouts or if he was alive.

It was only in last July that the Salims were tipped off by the Mumbai-based social activist and convener of the Citizens for Justice and Peace, Teesta Setalvad, who had been working with communal riot victims, that their son was alive and was being brought up by a Hindu family, as its own child, at Saraspur.

In fact, Vikram Patni, a vegetable vendor, and his wife Meena found the crying child near a waste bin close to Gulberg Society the day after the mayhem.

Without knowing his real identity, they named the boy Vivek and were bringing him up along with their three children.

After the Supreme Court appointed a Special Investigation Team to look afresh into a dozen-odd gruesome riot cases, the Gulberg Society incident being one of them, Ms. Setalvad informed the SIT of her apprehension about Vivek. At the instance of the SIT, a DNA matching test was performed on Vivek and the Salims. That established them as his biological parents and the boy as their son, Muzaffar.

Vikram Patni has since died but Meena refused to part with the child. The Salims filed a case in the Ahmedabad Metropolitan Court demanding custody of their son, but it ruled in favour of Meena because Vivek could not recognise the Salims and refused to go with them. Now about nine years old, Vivek opted to stay with the Patnis where, as he told the court, he was very happy.

Armed with the court verdict, Meena turned down the Salims’ request to allow them to see the boy once in a while. At this, the Salims to file a case in the High Court against the lower court’s order and renewing their demand for the custody of the child.

But before going into the legalities, Justice D. H. Waghela, in a humanitarian gesture, summoned both parties for a discussion, after which it was agreed that Meena would take Vivek every Sunday to the Salims’ house at Vatwa to meet his biological parents for two hours. The arrangement will continue at least till January 27, 2009, date of the next hearing.

Court sources said the effort was to see if the biological parents were able to woo their son back during the weekly interaction. If not, the boy’s wish will ultimately prevail and the court may be forced to allow Muzaffar to live with the Hindu family.

http://www.hindu.com/2009/01/01/stories/2009010159891200.htm

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

The dangers of Tamil chauvinism

Time appears to have stood still for most Tamil Nadu’s politicians who seem completely insulated from the complex ground realities that mark India’s new political landscape. India’s political establishment and civil society are anxiously grappling with the enormity of the horrific new threat to Indian society — terrorism — fast becoming an everyday reality on the streets. But oddly enough, seemingly oblivious of the contradiction, political parties in Tamil Nadu, led by the MDMK and the PMK, have recently plunged into high-pitched activity aimed at garnering support for the LTTE, a deadly terrorist organisation.

These parties have launched a campaign in the State ostensibly to express solidarity with the Sri Lankan Tamils trapped in the war zone in northern Sri Lanka but the timing of this campaign which appears to have materialised overnight, is a dead giveaway. The Sri Lankan army, just two kilometres away from the LTTE’s administrative capital, Kilinochchi, has successfully encircled the Tigers and their leader who are virtually trapped in their bunkers. For the first time in years, the Sri Lankan government appears to be on the brink of a major success in its battle with terrorism. There is now the very real prospect of the capture of the elusive LTTE chief, Velupillai Prabakaran, who is behind the assassination of a former Prime Minister of India, Rajiv Gandhi.

Tamil Nadu’s politicians clearly have different standards for India and for Sri Lanka. It would appear that they accept that battling terrorism in India and saving Kashmir from Islamist jihadis are important national tasks but not so in Sri Lanka which has been menaced for more than two decades by the LTTE. It was the LTTE which pioneered terrorism in South Asia and produced two generations of suicide bombers who have claimed numerous high-profile victims. For far too long have the legitimate aspirations of the Sri Lankan Tamils been held hostage to the hegemonic ambitions of the LTTE chief Prabakaran who has consistently sabotaged all attempts to find political solutions to the ethnic conflict.

When Pakistani generals and Islamist militants characterise the separatist uprising in Kashmir as a “freedom struggle,” the collective Indian national consciousness is understandably outraged. Politicians in India are rarely exercised over concerns that the human rights of innocent citizens are often trampled upon in police action against terrorists or their perceived accomplices. There is indeed a broad-based political consensus behind the Indian state when it takes strong steps to root out terrorism.

It is therefore all the more incongruous that the political parties in Tamil Nadu, including the ruling DMK and its principal challenger the AIADMK have decided to work themselves into a frenzy over the alleged violation of the “human rights” of the Sri Lankan Tamils in the context of the military action against the LTTE. Evidently, the game plan of the LTTE and its supporters is to rally Tamil chauvinist sentiment and translate that into pressure on New Delhi to signal its disapproval to Colombo, thereby weakening its moral authority in the eyes of the Sri Lankan Tamil community.

There is a strong sense of déjÀ vu, listening to the rhetoric and speeches of leaders in Tamil Nadu, whose understanding of the Sri Lankan political situation is mired in a time-warp, their images of the ethnic conflict drawing primarily from scenes of two decades ago, particularly the flashpoint of 1983, when the Wellikada prison massacre highlighted dramatically the plight of the Sri Lankan Tamil community and brought thousands of refugees to Indian shores. But after the assassination of Rajiv Gandhi, the Indian national psyche recoiled from a continued engagement with the Sri Lankan ethnic crisis.

Since the 1990s, New Delhi’s policy has been to acknowledge the terrorist character of the LTTE and the imperative of a military confrontation with that organisation, while continuing to offer moral encouragement to Colombo to find a political solution that would provide a framework to empower the Tamil community. Meanwhile, India made clear its utter repugnance for the LTTE by banning it not just because it was involved in the murder of Rajiv Gandhi but because it viewed the LTTE as a terrorist movement that would continuously strive to stimulate the secessionist sentiment in Tamil Nadu as long as Sri Lanka continued to have ethnic strife.

The situation in Sri Lanka itself has undergone profound changes since the 1980s, when it was easier to conceptualise purely political solutions and rule out military responses to the violent dimensions of the conflict. At that point in time, it was indeed possible to sideline the militant groups of Sri Lankan Tamil politics by engaging the political interlocutors in the Tamil community such as the urbane leaders of the TULF, notably Appapillai Amirthalingam, who recognised the key to political empowerment lay in the democratic process. But with the ruthless elimination of every credible interlocutor in the Tamil community by the LTTE which insisted that it was the sole representative of the Sri Lankan Tamils, the space for a political solution has narrowed over the years, rendering null and void the several exercises seeking a devolution of power to the Tamil community.

Yet the Thirteenth Amendment to the Sri Lankan Constitution which was a consequence of the Indo-Sri Lankan Agreement of 1987, envisaging devolution of power to provincial councils has become a touchstone for the resolution of the ethnic conflict. The Sri Lankan President, Mahinda Rajapaksa, has made it clear that he remains committed to a political solution of this sort. In a meeting with the All Party Representative Conference (APRC) last Saturday, Mr. Rajapaksa emphasised that it was the duty of the Sri Lankan state “to ensure to the Tamil people of the North the same democratic rights as enjoyed by the people in all parts of the country.” He also took care to explain that the military action against the LTTE was against terrorism and not against the Tamil community.

The Sri Lankan President has acquired unprecedented political space for his military campaign against the LTTE. Several factors including the rebellion of the powerful LTTE commander Karuna and the fact that there is now in place an elected provincial council in the Eastern Province have rendered irrelevant many of the points in the earlier Sri Lankan Tamil political platform. That there is a credible and workable political solution now in sight has made it easier for Colombo to launch military operations against the LTTE. It is indeed the sovereign right of Sri Lanka as it is of India to eliminate any terrorist organisation that poses a fundamental threat to its survival as a nation.

The parties in Tamil Nadu which have strong ties to the LTTE such as the MDMK and the PMK are in the forefront of this new campaign which has sprung to life overnight after decades of silence. Their rhetoric is dated and wearily familiar. The MDMK’s Vaiko, brimming with moral indignation, has lashed out at the Centre for allegedly sending military assistance to Sri Lanka which was “unleashing a genocidal attack on the Tamil race”. Likewise the PMK’s leader S. Ramadoss has alleged that “the situation on the island threatens to eliminate the entire Tamil race”.

That the LTTE’s shadow lurks behind this new campaign is evident in the demand of Dr. Ramadoss that the Union government recognise the “Eelam Tamils struggle for their rights.” There is also an implied acceptance of the LTTE’s claim to be the only authentic representative of the Sri Lankan Tamils in the declaration of Dr. Ramadoss that the LTTE is “acting as a fortress for ethnic Tamils.”

As the LTTE has presumably calculated, this binge of competitive chauvinism has compelled Chief Minister M. Karunanidhi to up the ante on this issue, adding for good measure, his own dramatic assertion that unless the Centre cooperates in stopping the attacks on the Sri Lankan Tamils, not only would the Sri Lankan Tamils perish but so also would the “Tamils in Tamil Nadu.” The strategic design behind the campaign to “express solidarity” with the Sri Lankan Tamils that is now under way in Tamil Nadu should not be underestimated.

For the last decade or so, New Delhi has successfully resisted the various attempts made by the LTTE and its supporters in Tamil Nadu to force it to intervene in the Sri Lankan ethnic crisis. If New Delhi were to express its disapproval, even implicitly, of Sri Lanka’s sovereign right to recapture its own national territory from the LTTE, it would weaken the moral authority of India’s own actions in regard to its struggle against terrorism and the separatist agitation in Kashmir. This latest campaign in Tamil Nadu masterminded by a desperate LTTE must not be allowed to undermine the sound policy decision upheld by successive Indian governments since 1991 to stay out of Sri Lanka’s internal affairs.


Malini Parthasarathy

http://www.hindu.com/2008/10/14/stories/2008101454490800.htm

Monday, October 6, 2008

தலித் பிரம்மாக்கள்!


''பதினைந்து வருடங்களுக்கு முன்பு இசைஞானி இளையராஜா எனது சிற்ப மையத்துக்கு வந்திருந்தார். அப்போது நான் செதுக்கிக்கொண்டு இருந்த விநாயகர் சிலை யைத் தொட்டுப் பார்க்கலாமா என்று கேட் டார். 'இப்போதுதான் தொட முடியும். கோயில் கருவறைக்குள் சென்றுவிட்டால் பக்தனாகிய உங்களாலும் தொட முடியாது. சிலையைச் செய்த என்னாலும் தொட முடியாது' என்றேன். சிரித்துக்கொண்டார்!''- தனது உளியைப் போலவே சிற்பி ராஜனின் வார்த்தைகளிலும் கூர்மை!

இந்தியாவின் மிகச் சிறந்த சிற்பிகளில் ஒருவர் ராஜன். சுவாமிமலை அருகே திம்மக்குடியில் இருக்கும் 'ராஜன் சிற்ப மையத்'தில் ஏதோ ஒரு தாளகதியில் இசை மீட்டுகின்றன நூற்றுக்கணக்கான உளிகள். தாமரைப்பூ சரஸ்வதி, காசுகளை அள்ளி இறைக்கும் லட்சுமி, ரதி, மன்மதன், திருப்பதி வெங்கடாசலபதி, ஆஞ்சநேயர், விநாயகர், வள்ளி தெய்வானையோடு முருகன், ஊழித்தாண்டவமாடும் நடராசர் என பஞ்சலோக மற்றும் வெண்கல வடிவங்களில் மினி தேவலோகச் சூழல்! இந்தியாவின் சார்பாக லண்டன், ஜெர்மனி, ஆஸ்திரியா, சுவிட்சர்லாந்து சிற்பக் கண்காட்சிகளில் கலந்துகொள்ள மத்திய அரசு தேர்ந்தெடுப்பது இவரைத்தான். பிரான்ஸ் நாட்டுப் பள்ளிகளில் ஒன்பதாம் வகுப்பில் பாடமாக சிற்பி ராஜனின் வாழ்க்கைக் குறிப்பு இடம்பெற்றிருக்கிறது.



இவற்றைத் தாண்டியும் ராஜனுக்கு இருக்கிறது சில தனிச் சிறப்புகள். சுவாமி சிலைகளைத் தெய்வாம்சமாக வடித்துத் தரும் ராஜன், ஒரு பழுத்த நாத்திகவாதி. பெரியார் கொள்கைகளுக்காகத் தன் வாழ்வை அர்ப்பணித்தவர். இவரது சிற்ப மையத்தின் இன்னொரு சிறப்பு தலித் சிற்பிகள்! தாழ்த்தப்பட்டவர்கள் என ஒதுக்கப்படும் தலித்களால் உருவாக்கப்பட்ட எண்ணிலடங்கா கடவுள் சிலைகள் இந்தியாவைத் தாண்டி உலகெங்கிலும் உள்ள முக்கியக் கோயில்களில் அருள்பாலித்துக் கொண்டிருக்கின்றன. புரொஃபஷனல் கலைக்கூடம், லேப்-டாப் மூலம் வாடிக்கையாளர்களுடன் தகவல் பரிமாற்றம் என சிற்பக் கலையை அடுத்த நூற்றாண்டுக்குக் கை பிடித்து அழைத்துச் செல்கிறார் ராஜன். கலவையான உலோக மணம் நாசியைத் தீண்ட அங்கிருந்த வித்தியாசமான 'பறையடிக்கும் விநாயகர்' என்னோடு நின்றிருந்த வின்சென்ட்டின் கேமராவை ஈர்த்தது.

''அனைவருக்கும் பொதுவான கடவுள், தலித் மக்களின் கலாசாரத்தையும் பிரதிபலிக்க வேண்டும் இல்லையா? அதற்காகத்தான் இந்தப் பறையடிக்கும் விநாயகர் சிலை! பதின்மூன்று வயதிலிருந்தே கடவுள் மறுப்பாளனாக இருந்தாலும், எனக்கிருந்த சிற்பக் கலைநயத்தைக் கடவுள் சிலை செய்வதன் மூலம்தான் ஆழமாக வெளிப்படுத்த முடியும் என்று நம்பினேன். வெறும் கல்லை, உலோகத்தை கலைநயம்மிக்க கடவுளர்களாகத் தங்கள் உழைப்பின் மூலம் உருவாக்கித் தரும் மக்களைக் கோயிலின் உள்ளேயே விட மறுப்பது மானுட விரோதம் இல்லையா? பெரியார் தொண்டனாக இதற்கு நான் ஏதாவது செய்ய வேண்டியிருந்தது.

முள்ளை முள்ளால்தானே எடுக்க வேண்டும்? மூலவர் சிலைகளையே தலித்துக்களைக்கொண்டு உருவாக்கி கோயில் கருவறைக்குள் வைக்கத் தீர்மானித்தேன். சிற்பக்கலையில் ஆர்வமுள்ள தலித் இளைஞர்களை ஒன்று திரட்டி அவர்களுக்கு இலவசமாகத் தங்குமிடம், பயிற்சிகள் அளித்து என் சிற்ப மையத்தைக் குருகுலமாகவே மாற்றினேன். எதிர்பார்த்ததை விடவும் இந்த முயற்சிக்குக் கடும் எதிர்ப்புகள். 'சாமி சிலையைக் கீழ்ச் சாதியினர் செய்வதா?' என்று கேள்வி எழுப்பியவர்கள் எல்லாம் அவர்களால் உருவாக்கப்பட்ட கலைநயம்மிக்க கடவுள் சிலைகளைப் பார்த்து அசந்து போனார்கள். ஆரம்ப காலங்களில் கோயில் நிர்வாகிகள் தலித்து களால் உருவாக்கப்பட்ட கடவுள் சிலைகளை வாங்க மறுத்தார்கள். கடைசியில் அவர்களைக் கலை வென்றது. அந்த அளவுக்கு தலித் இளைஞர்களின் சிற்ப நுட்பம் ஒவ்வொரு அங்குலத்திலும் வெளிப்பட்டது.

இந்த நாட்டின் ஆதிக்குடிகள் தலித்துகள். நமக்கான கலையை, நாகரிகத்தை உருவாக்கித் தந்தவர்கள். சாமி சிற்பங்கள் மட்டும் அந்தக் கலைக்குடிகளின் கரங்களிலிருந்து தப்ப முடியுமா? எனது சிற்ப மையத்தில் அவர்களால் உருவாக்கப்பட்ட ஐம்பொன் சிலைகள் நியூ ஜெர்ஸி சிவன் கோயில், க்ளீவ்லேண்டிலுள்ள இந்து மிஷன் கோயில்களை அலங்கரிக்கின்றன. இதே சுவாமிமலைக்கு அருகில் காவிரிக் கரையில் அமைந்துள்ள ஐயப்பன் சிலையை நானும் எனது மாணவர்களும்தான் உருவாக்கினோம். அதன்பிறகு, அந்த ஐயப்பன் சிலைக்கு வெள்ளிக் கவசம் வேண்டுமென கோயில் நிர்வாகத்தினர் கேட்டனர். கவசத்துக்கு அளவெடுக்க வேண்டுமானால் கருவறைக்குச் செல்ல வேண்டும். ஆனால், கோயில் நிர்வாகம் என்னையும் எனது தலித் மாணவர்களையும் கருவறைக்குள் விடாமல் தடுத்தது. கோபப்பட்டு திரும்பிவந்துவிட்டோம். பிறகு, அவர்களே தேடிவந்து அழைத்ததால் அளவெடுத்துக் கவசம் சாத்தினோம்.

அவ்வளவு ஏன்..? காஞ்சி சங்கரமடத்தில் உள்ள காமாட்சி அம்மனின் அவதாரமாகிய மகாமேரு சிலையை உருவாக்கியவர்களும் என் தலித் மாணவர்கள்தான்'' என்கிற ராஜனும், அவரது மாணவர்களும் இதுவரைக்கும் பத்தாயிரத்துக்கும் மேற்பட்ட சாமி சிலைகளை உருவாக்கி உள்ளனர்.

சுவாமிமலையில் இயங்கும் சிற்ப மையத்தை அண்மையில் விற்றுவிட்டார் ராஜன். அதை வாங்கியவர்கள், 'ராஜன் சிற்ப மையம்' என்ற பெயரையே தொடர்ந்து பயன்படுத்திக்கொள்ள ஒரு பெரும் தொகையை ராயல்டியாக வழங்கியுள்ளனர். இப்போது கும்பகோணம் அருகே ஆலங்குடியில் பரந்துவிரிந்த பிரமாண்ட சிற்ப மையத்தை உருவாக்கும் முயற்சியில் இருக்கிறார். ''அங்கும் தலித் இளைஞர்களுக்கே முன்னுரிமை'' எனும் ராஜன் சிற்பக் கலையின் மீதுள்ள ஈடுபாடு காரணமாகத் திருமணமே செய்துகொள்ளவில்லை.

ராஜனின் சீடரான சிற்பி பாண்டுரங்கன், ''ஒளிவுமறைவின்றி சிற்பக் கலையின் ரகசிய நுட்பங்கள் அனைத்தையும் ராஜன் ஐயாதான் எங்களுக்குக் கற்றுக் கொடுத்தார். வருமானம், வெளிநாட்டுக்காரர்களின் பாராட்டுக்கள் பெரிய விஷயமில்லை. உள்ளூரிலேயே சாதியின் பெயரைச் சொல்லி எங்களை ஒதுக்கியவர்கள்கூட இன்று மரியாதையோடு பார்க்கிறார்கள்.'' ஏழரை அடி உயரமும் நானூறு கிலோ எடையும் கொண்ட லட்சுமி சிலையை உயிரோட்டமாகச் செதுக்கி யபடியே பேசுகிறார்.

ஆயிரமாயிரம் ஆண்டுகளாக இறுகி கெட்டிப்பட்டுக் கிடக்கும் சாதி என்னும் கடும்பாறையின் மீது ராஜனின் உளி தொடர்ந்து இயங்கிக்கொண்டு இருக்கிறது!

நன்றி - ஆனந்த விகடன்...

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Azhar’s story: A miracle of love

Azharuddin walks to his school today, more than six years later, a little wobbly on his feet, but coherent in his mind and ready to often smile.

A police bullet pierced right through the 10-year-old boy’s forehead, and flew out from the other end, near his neck. But Azharuddin walks to his school across the streets of Ahmedabad today, more than six years later, a little wobbly on his feet, his one hand bent permanently like a spastic, but coherent in his mind and ready to often smile. It is a resplendent miracle of love. To add further shine to the wonder, his mother Shakila Bano also survived a bullet that penetrated her chest, just inches away from her heart.

The year was 2002, nearly two months after the communal massacre that devastated the Muslim residents of the city, following the burning of a train in Godhra. Nearly a hundred thousand men, women and children were in relief camps at that time, their loved ones killed or missing, their homes burnt. An uneasy false peace had descended over the old city where most of the Muslim population of the city lived, but stray incidents of violence and vengeance were reported from time to time, and the air was clogged with rumours and fear.

Suddenly one day in April, 2002, two bodies were discovered on a highway at the outskirts of the city near the village of Ramol. The dead men were identified as activist members of the Vishwa Hindu Parishad, one of the organisations which were at the forefront of organising the slaughter weeks earlier. It was quickly concluded that this was a revenge killing by the Muslims of the area.

Blind retaliation

In a short while, a convoy of jeeploads of local policemen, in uniform and helmets, drove stormily into the Muslim settlement that happened to fall nearest the place where the killed men had been found. This was the working class colony Mohammed Nagar. As soon as they entered the shanty, they began to fire blindly. Shakila Bano’s home falls close to the road near the entrance to the settlement. She was in her kitchen, kneading flour for the afternoon meal. She suddenly heard the commotion, the echo of bullets and the cry of her 10-year-old son Azhar, who was playing on the road. She came running out with the flour sticking to her hands, to find him lying motionless in a pool of blood around his head. A bullet has penetrated through his skull. She screamed in anguish and anger at the policemen who were driving by in their jeeps. She was silenced by another bullet, which went through her chest. She too fell unconscious.

The uproar outside their home alerted the other residents of the ghetto to rush into their houses and bolt their doors. The rampaging police continued to fire blindly. Zarina Bano was hit on the shoulder, Nanhi Bahen on the hand, and Rubina Bano on the chest. Aged Zuleikha fell dead to another bullet. Mohammed Rafiq, a railway employee, had the misfortune to be returning from work on his bicycle at that very moment. From behind their windows, the other residents saw him plead in terror for his life, showing the unforgiving policemen his identity card, only to be shot dead.

Paramilitary forces of the RAF followed quickly on the heels of the local police. Their officers were shocked by the consequences that they saw of a police run berserk. They assumed Azhar to be dead, but rushed his mother Shakila who was bleeding and unconscious to the hospital. This saved her life.

Azhar’s father Sheikh Imamuddin was at work at that time in the aluminium moulding factory where he was employed. He heard smatterings of news of the horrors of the police rampage and rushed home. By then, other police officials had arrived in the colony. Imam begged them to lend him their ambulance to take his son to the government hospital. They told him that he should take the boy to the cemetery instead, but relented after the father pleaded piteously.

In the hospital emergency ward, the doctors declared the boy dead. The shattered father sat with his head lowered in sorrow on a bench in the hospital corridor, clutching the edge of the stretcher on which his son lay, waiting to move his body to the mortuary. Suddenly he felt violent vibrations in the stretcher. For a moment, he thought it was a replay of the earthquake which had devastated the city of Ahmedabad a year earlier. But instead he raised his head to find that his son, still unconscious, was heaving with convulsions. Imam ran back to the doctors to plead with them to save the life of his son. They dismissed him, believing that the father was crazed by the grief of his son’s death. But he fell to their feet, pressing his head on their shoes. They relented finally, and three young doctors on duty walked with him to the corridor. They too were then stunned by the sight of the convulsions of the boy they had all taken to be dead, and they began running towards him. One doctor even slipped and fell in his haste.

Exemplary compassion

All three doctors were Hindu, and those were dark times when one’s religious faith notoriously clouded even the duty and humanity of many professionals like doctors and lawyers. But Imam testifies that these three young doctors showed him no prejudice, only exemplary compassion. For the next several weeks, Imam barely left the bedside of his son, as the doctors battled for his life. Imam learnt meanwhile of his wife’s miraculous survival in another government hospital, and his relatives tended her to health. Finally the day came when Shakila Bano, and then her son Azhar were both discharged from hospital and returned to their home.

Since the day his son returned home, his father Imam has only one obsession: the care of his son. The boy, for several months, could not rise from his bed, even to go to the toilet. The doctors had prescribed him a rigid (and expensive) regime of medicines and physiotherapy. Imam would work overtime in his aluminium moulding factory, and even after hours he sought any kind of work — head-loading, cleaning, construction labour — anything that would earn him extra money. The family and neighbours knew that the family may go without food, but no money would be spared for the boy’s medicines and treatment. The boy suffered terrible headaches and lapses of memory and even eyesight. But his parents persisted, his mother oblivious of the burning pain that sometimes still rose in her own chest which was also penetrated by a bullet. It was because of his parents’ unwavering love that, over several months, the boy slowly began to rise to his feet.

Imam wished to see the policemen who shot his son through the forehead, and his wife in her chest, punished. “My son was too young even to know who is a Hindu and who is a Muslim”, he lamented. But none were willing even to file his complaint. He stubbornly persisted, and filed a complaint in the magistrate’s court, but he has not heard from the court in these six years.

Instead, the police filed a complaint to justify their firing, with a story that Azhar and his mother were part of a mob that was trying to demolish a tiny temple that stands at the outskirts of their colony. The police FIR claims that the crowd was lobbing bombs at the temple. Nine people of the colony were arrested for this alleged attack on the temple. Unlike those who were arrested for the crimes in the carnage two months earlier — who easily secured bail — these Muslim accused from the colony were refused bail and remained in jail for five years. In the end, however, the court acquitted all of them, as the police was unable to prove their charges. It rankles Imam a lot that not a single policeman has been punished for raining bullets at his son and wife, and other innocent residents of Mohammed Nagar.


Slow progress

Imam himself is completely unlettered, but he was determined that his son should get the best education within his reach. Five years after the bullet entered his son’s skull, he held him by his hand as he stumbled unsteadily, and took him to a neighbouring private English medium school named “Sunflower”, established by a local Muslim entrepreneur. He begged the principal to admit his son, and he relented. Azhar is now 17 years old, but in class VI. He often finds it hard to remember things, and sometimes falls while walking. He is frequently grounded by throbbing pain, and even more so by frightening memories. Imam has warned his family and neighbours to not react when the boy has bouts of great fury and stubbornness. His teachers say that he is doing well in school, and the doctors affirm that the extent of his healing is utterly exceptional.

I believe that it is in the boy’s smiles and unsteady steps that his parents too have found some healing.


HARSH MANDER

http://www.hindu.com/mag/2008/09/07/stories/2008090750080300.htm