I hate you , but I wanna touch you!

The infamous Indian caste system has brought us enough ignominy which we could have done without. This caste system had leaded us to ostracize and to brand certain members of our society as untouchables. This has confined them, till this day, to the fringes of the social order, especially in rural and semi-urban areas. But yet, I wonder why we keep hearing about cases of Dalit women being raped by ‘upper caste men’? If these ‘upper caste’ people do not even want the shadows of a Dalit to fall on them, what gets them to the point of forcefully having intercourse with a Dalit woman? Does that happen without touching the woman? Doesn’t this type of physical contact ‘contaminate’ those ‘upper caste’ rapists? When I would read about such cases, this question would pop up in my head like those irritating pop-ups which keep hampering our web-surfing activities. But I was reminded of a song that I had heard a few years ago. Someone had come out with this unimpressive and incomprehensive song whose lyrics went like “Mallika, I hate you, I hate you. But I wanna touch you, but I wanna touch you.” Those lyrics simply went over my head at that time but I never imagined that they would help me understand a social issue which continues to irritate and infuriate me. The acts of rape and abuse are a way of asserting that the rapist is superior to the victim and therefore more powerful whereas the victim cannot save herself/himself and hence is powerless, inferior. These acts just help the villain to reassure his own insecurities and to feel better about himself. The hatred towards the victim helps to justify the act of rape saying that she deserved it, whereas the rapist also finds an outlet for suppressed sexual desires. The lower caste tag makes this justification easier. Convenient isn’t it?

Communication and confusion

Our class 9 English professor Madam Gonzalez had arrived in Thane for the first time. She was hunting for a house. She was told about a flat in K. Villa. She reached the place with her son and asked a neighborhood shopkeeper for the owner of that place.

Shopkeeper replied, “Aap unse nahi mil payenge, who aadmi Gujarat gaya hai.”

On hearing this Madam Gonzalez demanded, “Thik hai, woh vapas kab aaye ga? Hume unka ghar kiraye pe chahiye.”

The shopkeeper looked scandalized. He shopkeeper responded, “Madam aap kaisi baat kar rahi ho? Aadmi Gujarat gaya hai. Aadmi Gujarat jaane ke baad vapas kaisa aaye ga?”

It was Madam’s turn to be scandalized. She answered, “Kyun vapas nahi aaye gaa? Uska ghar hai idhar! Thik hai, agar woh vapas nahi aane waala toh koi contact number hoga naa uska. Hume usse baat karni hai.”

The shopkeeper was perplexed.

He retorted, “Aap samajhti nahi hai kya? Idhar ghar hai toh kya hua? Gujarat jaane ke baad koi aadmi vapas nahi aata.”

Madam was about to snap back at him when her son interrupted, “Mamma, he did not say ‘Gujarat’ gaaya, he said ‘Gujar’ gaya.”

She narrated this incidence in class while she was teaching us the importance of accurate pronunciation and active listening.

Royally Obsessed

Circa 1949 We, the nation of India accepted and decided to be a SOVEREIGN SOCIALIST SECULAR DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC when we adopted our constitution on 26th of November, 1949. The Iron man of India, Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel spent a good amount of his time knowledge and astute statesmanship to unify India as we know it today by convincing a hoard of princely states to blend in and give up their titles.

Circa 2008 The Board of Control for Cricket in India launches the Indian Premier League, the biggest and most spectacular cricketing event in cricketing history. The team names were announced and I couldn't help but notice that they were just reeking of monarchy. 8 teams announced and 4 were indisputably monarchical in nomenclature. The Bangalore Royal Challengers, Rajasthan Royals, Chennai Super Kings and King's XI Punjab. The last two being the most ludicrous. The name Chennai Super Kings immediately suggests that every member of the team is a King. I just couldn't help but wonder how can 11 Kings peacefully co-exist on the same turf? The Wadia & Zinta owned team is even sillier. King's XI Punjab! Pray, tell me, which king rules Punjab? Is the Indian Government listening? Just kidding!!! Vijay Mallya's team's name is comprehensible as it is a brand promotion and reinforcement exercise. Smart way to get around the juvenile legislation that prohibits liquor advertisements. The Rajasthan Royals clearly draw a reference to the former Royal family of Jaipur which still own palaces in Rajasthan. We simply can't give up our fascination for monarchy. However, the funniest and silliest title is undoubtedly that of Shah Rukh Khan and Juhi Chawla's (yes Juhi also) Kolkata Knight Riders. Knights existed in Medieval Europe, never in India! And most definitely, no Knights in Kolkata! Then why Knight Riders? I guess it's still a long time before we become passionate about Democracy just as much as the Americans and the French but I am not complaining.

The Niveau 3 Batch at Alliance Francaise

Education Abroad

So want to fly oversees huh? Dreaming about exploring another continent? Meeting different people? Very good. You could have given very tough competition to Christopher Columbus himself! Talking about great explorers, if the land discovered by Abel Jansoon Tasman seduces you, use the website http://newzealandeducated.com Yes my dear friend, New Zealand was discovered by Mr. Tasman on 13th December 1642. Use the website well!

Now, lets move to the former Terra Australis Incognita, yes Australia, the land found by Captain James Cook and a few adventurous souls before himself. All of them sponsored by the East India Trading Company offcourse!! http://www.india.idp.com/ is their website to help out confused souls like yourself. Help yourself and find courses that shall prove of interest to you.

But I must say the most fascinating and successful discovery was made by Senor Amerigo Vespucci a few weeks before Christopher Columbus did on the 12th October 1492. Yes people , The Land of the Free, the United States of America. This discovery continues to fascinate us till this day and if you are equally fascinated, attracted to its everlasting charm http://educationusa.state.gov is the thing for you. As we are in India, it would be wise to consult http://fulbright-india.org

And finally if you would like to study in the land of our former colonial rulers, http://britishcouncil.org/india is the website to look out. Moreover, the United Kingdom has this site http://extras.timesonline.co.uk/tol_gug/gooduniversityguide.php to know the rankings of colleges.

In 1497 an Italian named John Cabot sailed west from Bristol, England, intent on finding a new trade route to the Orient for his patron, King Henry VII of England. This particular heroic gentleman ended up finding, Canada. If you dream of the North pole for your neighbourhood, head straight for this country. The Governement provides a website called http://aucc.ca and choose the English version.

Finally, when you choose colleges, make sure you find ou the email address of their head of international relations and send them your queries and do not forget to attach your CV. All the best!

An Evening of a lifetime with Azouz Begag

Now, that was an evening to last a lifetime!

It was an extraordinary day which started on a rather ordinary note. I had come from college after completing nearly 4 hours of train travel (2 hours Thane – Panvel, 2 hours Panvel – Churchgate). On reaching the Alliance Française de Bombay, I found out they were not working due to the press conference for the French Touch Festival. It was 1 ‘o’clock in the afternoon. I didn’t know what to do. The French Words conference with Azouz Begag was to begin at 5 pm at the Cercle Littéraire, near Max Mueller Bhavan. Having no place to go, I had reached G. D. Somani School to use the Self Learning Centre for killing time. I met my French class batch mates, leaving from the Concours “Plume d’Or”. The studies plan at the Self Learning Centre was abandoned. Next stop was Kamath restaurant near the World Trade Centre, Cuffe Parade. After lunch, we finally left for the Cercle Littéraire. All this incessant traveling had left me exhausted and sleepy or rather hypoxic.

The Cercle Littéraire is an aged, attractive but barely discernible structure. On entering it, we went through an old-fashioned, English style staircase which had the allure of an abandoned or to put it better, a barely visited place. It was slightly gloomy. I was contemplating returning home. I shall remain eternally grateful to myself for deciding against it. We assembled ourselves in the chairs in the small room where the conference was supposed to take place.

5:30 p.m. Mr. Begag arrived with the French Consulate General officials. Mr. Azouz Begag is a French politician (I discovered that after the conference!), writer and researcher in social sciences and economics. He is of an Algerian descent. He was at the Cercle Littéraire to speak about political and immigration issues. The conference began and this is how he opened it. “I do not speak French.” Bam! We had all been given extracts from his various books (all French) to familiarize us with his works and here the man jokes about not knowing the language. He spoke a mélange of French and English for the opening 2-3 minutes, called Franglais. The French do not appreciate that. Anyway, more about that later.

He spoke about the life of his parents in Algeria, a life of hardship with no water, electricity and work. Hunger and disease was routine. Illiteracy was rife. Footwear, not shoes, was cut out of Goodyear tyres. Democracy existed in Algeria. The victorious candidates won nearly 99% of the votes cast. Votes were in accordance with the decision of the entire community. Only a few ‘freaks’ would vote in keeping with their individual opinion. He narrated this in a highly animated style with very vivid gestures. He actually kept his foot on the table pointing at his shoes to say that shoes didn’t exist in Algeria! He might just have been speaking about the slums of Bombay or the remote villages of India. He acknowledged that as well.

Azouz Begag was born in Lyon, France in a slum of North African immigrants. He spent his entire childhood, with 8 siblings (the average for Algerian families), in a minuscule 2 room, wooden hutment. His relatives, who had arrived in France after Azouz Begag’s father, had similar family sizes and dwelling spaces in their vicinity. His father had arrived in France in 1956 with just a small piece of paper mentioning the name and address of the factory owner who had promised him employment. He went around with his friends, asking for directions to the place. None of them spoke French, only English. It was nothing less then a miracle that they reached the place they were supposed to reach.

At the factory, workers were just numbers. They were non-entities who had no faces, no names. It was always number so and so who was supposed to complete this and that on a given day. Job security was unheard of. Despite of his economic hardships and being illiterate himself, Mr. Begag senior was extremely particular about his children’s education. He told the young Azouz that books can make a man fly. He would demonstrate this by holding an open book and making it flap like a bird. He would tell his children that with books they could fly over and away from the slums. He was tremendously proud of his Algerian roots and always spoke of returning back to his village in Algeria. He never learnt French as he did not consider it to be his language. He died in France with his dream of returning to Algeria remaining unfulfilled. His, was the story of all blue collar immigrants, all over the world.

After having spoken at length about his childhood and life in Lyon, Azouz Begag started conversing with us. He wanted us to ask him questions. Thinking about an extract from his book Le Gone du Chaâba, I asked him about him about his relations with his peers and teachers in school. He narrated his school life filled with perseverance and dedication towards his education and the consequent dislike, both his French and North African immigrant, classmates felt for him. The French had an aversion for him as they could not accept an Algerian, an outsider surpassing them in studies. The Algerians were abhorrent of him for his ‘attempts’ to become like the French. His French teachers made sure that the Algerian students never said “The capital of ‘our’ country France is Paris.” while studying Geography. It was always “The capital of ‘your’ country France is Paris.” Segregation was the norm.

Conditions at home were more conflicting. The day the young Azouz learnt that the Earth rotates around the Sun and not the other way round, he described that to his father. He was slapped. He was awakened forcefully at 5 a.m. the next morning by his father. With his ear being squeezed, he was dragged to the window. His father forced him to look at the Sun during the subsequent sunrise.

His father asked him, “What is moving, us or the Sun?”

The young Azouz had to answer, “The Sun”.

“Your teacher does not know anything. Don’t listen to him. Believe what you see”, said his father.

His teachers at school would say, “Don’t believe what you see. Don’t listen to your parents. They don’t know anything.”

Young Azouz was of the view that both of them were right in their respective places.

Later, he spoke of his relations with his relatives, his beliefs about his religion and the importance of immigration. On being asked whether he practiced Islam, he answered no. He cited that his parents possessed tolerance that measured 360˚. He never managed to complete reading the Koran and his parents simply asserted that only if Allah wishes would he (Azouz Begag) read the Koran. If it is not Allah’s wish that he read the Koran, so be it.

The evening helped me understand my own childhood experiences better. The Algerians are much like us Indians when it comes to family values and lifestyles. Hospitality is the most preferred value. They never refuse or mistreat a guest. That is the key reason behind Begag senior’s relatives following him to France and his efforts to accommodate them. Mr. Azouz Begag’s first contact with India was through Hindi movies. The Algerians loved Hindi films. They never understood a word of it. The rationale behind the popularity of Hindi cinema amongst the Arabs is that Hindi movies are clean and suited for family viewing. The lead actor and actress will just dance and sing in the rain and go home. Nothing beyond that! So perfect for families! I understood why my family would always be requested by Egyptians to provide photos of Amitabh Bachchan during our stay in the Middle East and Egypt.

The subject of immigration is closest to Mr. Begag’s heart. He emphasized that in the next decade the countries of the European Union would be competing for attracting immigrants to run their economies. He highlighted the reality that immigrants always stimulate growth. Systematic integration of immigrants into the mainstream society actually helps economic expansion and it is their isolation which leads to crime and social problems. Most of us were already thinking of the recent clashes between the MNS and North Indian workers in Bombay (Strange, ‘North’ Africans are considered a problem in France). Mr. Begag pointed out that majority of the French football team members were black and no one bats an eyelid. Zinedine Zidane is of an Algerian origin and nobody considers him an outsider. He is a Frenchman. A little trivia, Zinedine Zidane and Azouz Begag belong to the same village in Algeria. Mr. Begag is of the opinion that the notion of identity is changeable. We can change an identity just as mush as we can cultivate it.

Mr. Azouz Begag is a lover of the Arts. He explained how literature and cinema are a reflection of the society and how they help us understand ourselves better and to reach out to fellow beings. One of his best loved movies is “Pané et Chocolat”, 1973 by the Italian film-maker Franco Brusati. It is about an immigrant’s life and Mr. Begag realized, after viewing the film, that he was not alone. There were many others who faced segregation like him. Amongst his favorite authors, he lists Ernest Hemmingway and Amitav Ghosh. He appeared awestruck by the approach in which Ernest Hemmingway shot himself. “Fantastic!” he exclaimed. Azouz Begag calls Albert Camus his brother. Such striking parallels in both of their lives! Azouz Begag and Albert Camus (separately) topped their class at school, were children of illiterate parents, had exceptional writing skills and faced problems blending into the French society. Azouz Begag was an Algerain immigrant living in France. Albert Camus was a French immigrant living in Algeria.

I was amazed at how much I discovered that evening, about the world and myself. I had never imagined that life can be so similar in different countries, in different time periods. Azouz Begag’s style of speech is highly conversational and animated. He immediately puts the listeners at ease and yes, his talks drive away fatigue too. The imagination and attention of the audience is instantaneously captivated by his talks and vivid gestures. His frequent use of Franglais was later explained by my professor as some form of personal vengeance against the French society that had subjected him to separation and isolation. He still has to affirm that he is French. He is absolutely an astute diplomat. He wrapped up the evening by saying that after the wonderful time he spent with students of Bombay, he will be settling down in Bombay! Anyway, I found myself scrambling for his autograph and photograph right after the end. I don’t know what I might have lost had I not attended the conference. I appreciated for the first time what a wonderful decision it was to join Alliance Française de Bombay. I shall remain eternally grateful to them for that wonderful evening with Azouz Begag.