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And now the bad news! |
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OBITUARY |
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Alone in the crowd |
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By A.J. Philip |
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ON Sunday morning we woke up with the chilling news that Billy, my wife's younger brother, was no more. It did not really surprise us as the news was in many ways anticipated. After all, he had been ailing and the doctors at the Regional Cancer Research Centre at Thiruvananthapuram had indicated he would not live for more than three months.
Yet, we found it difficult to reconcile ourselves to Billy's death. My first encounter with him was long before my marriage when he joined our college. One afternoon as I was leaving the college for home, he virtually intercepted me on the way and began asking a lot of questions, which were annoying.
When I expressed my exasperation, he told me that he was sizing me up for he had heard that I was courting his elder sister. At the end of his "cross-examination", he said he would be with me in my amorous pursuit, for I had passed his test of earnestness and, perhaps, endurance. "What a brother-in-law!" I thought as I wriggled out of his "captivity" with my ribs and jaws intact.
Thereafter, I tried to keep our "encounters" as brief as possible, an uphill task given Billy's penchant to talk. Although he was no prodigy, he was a bright and curious child. As the story goes, a childless couple, a close relation, showed interest in rearing him up as their own child but the whole plan of adoption collapsed like the plan for the tower of Babel when at the first available opportunity, Billy returned home, much to the delight of his distraught parents.
By the time Billy was seven or eight, his relatives had come to consider him bookish and slightly odd. While his siblings rode stick horses, cut paper dolls out of old pattern books and played hide-and-seek in their large house, he could always be found in his upper floor room with his nose buried in a book or magazine.
Billy considered himself a leader in the making when he joined Balajana Sakhyam, nurtured by the Malayala Manorama group, and his oratorical talent was recognised. A short story he wrote for the College Magazine attracted my attention for the dash of brilliance it contained. Based on phoenix, the mythical bird that rises from the ashes, the story dealt with existentialism. For once I realized, he could have a career in literature. He also had a good command of the English language, thanks in the main to his voracious reading and the "Billy's Library" he had built up over the years.
It is said that for Dorothy, wife of William Carey, the famous missionary, grief at losing her child tipped her over the edge of sanity. In the case of Billy, I do not know what happened but he began to lose touch with reality. One day when he talked about extraterrestrial influences on him, I had a rude shock.
When I asked him how a young, well-read person like him could talk like that, his answer startled me. Years later, when I read John Nash's biography where he was asked by a visitor from Harvard, "How could you, a mathematician, believe that extraterrestrials were sending you messages?", the Nobel Prize winner answered with equanimity, "Because the ideas I had about supernatural beings came to me the same way my mathematical ideas did. So I took them seriously", I realized Billy had given me a similar answer.
Tragically, he internalized all the problems of the world and agonized over them. But never once did he waver in his faith or allegiance to the church he was born into even when some of his fickle-minded siblings sought solace elsewhere.
Like the phoenix in the only story he wrote, he rose when after a paralytic stroke, doctors had virtually given up hope. A year ago when life was ebbing out of him with the blood count reaching perilous level, I happened to rush him to a hospital. After four bottles of blood platelet transfusion, he sat up on the bed and had a regular sumptuous lunch to my delightful surprise.
Because his name was Billy, he was nicknamed "Cat". As I watched him eating food in the hospital room, I realized he was like the cat with its proverbial nine lives. But even cats cannot live beyond their lives.
In the case of John Nash, it was the selflessness of a beautiful woman and the loyalty of the mathematics community that helped the genius to emerge from decades of ghostlike existence to win a Nobel and world acclaim but in the case of Billy, he was destined to live a life of solitude with unwavering faith in God and steadfastness to truth. |
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Quintessential Marxist |
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By IANS |
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He was a Marxist to the core who was equally at home with bourgeois democracy and capitalist ideas. If destiny had been on his side, Jyoti Basu would have become India's prime minister in 1996.
But that was not to be, thanks to his dogmatic Communist Party of India-Marxist (CPI-M), which ruled that no one from its ranks could head a multi-party regime that would not be able to implement Marxist programmes.
Basu swallowed the diktat silently. But within months he questioned the wisdom of fellow Stalinists and described the party's decision not to form the centre-Left United Front government as a "historic blunder".
That perhaps was the only time the very 'bhadralok', or gentleman, Basu broke the CPI-M's strict rules of discipline. He got away with it because he was the prima donna of Indian Communism, a product of aristocracy who embraced Marx in London and became the longest serving chief minister in the country.
By the time he gave up the reins of West Bengal in 2000 citing health grounds, Basu had been the chief minister for an incredible 23 uninterrupted years. He was widely respected across the political spectrum. Many a prime minister consulted him on matters of national importance.
Of course he had his critics. But for someone married to an ideology that has had few takers in India, he was one of the most successful politicians in the world's largest democracy.
Born July 8, 1914, in Kolkata, the son of a doctor was schooled in Loreto and St. Xavier's. He graduated from the Presidency College of Kolkata with an honours in English in 1935.
He then studied law in London where he came in contact with the Communist Party of Great Britain (CPGB), the alma mater of many an Indian Communist.
Basu's early associates included the veteran British Communists Harry Pollitt, Rajani Palme Dutt and Ben Bradley. In London, he joined the India League and the Federation of Indian Students in Great Britain.
On returning to India, Basu joined the then undivided Communist Party of India (CPI) and in 1944, three years before the British Raj ended, started working among railway workers.
He got into electoral politics in 1946, getting elected to the Bengal Legislative Assembly.
Winning elections then became a habit for Basu. After independence, he was repeatedly elected to the West Bengal legislature, starting in 1952.
When the CPI split in 1964 parallel to the Sino-Soviet break-up, Basu became one of the nine founding politburo members of the more radical CPI-M.
West Bengal was in turmoil in the late 1960s, with a section of the CPI-M revolting in a small West Bengal village known as Naxalbari and igniting a bloody Maoist movement.
Two shaky and shortlived governments took office in West Bengal in 1967 and 1969, and Basu was the deputy chief minister -- his first stint as an administrator.
It was in June 1977 that Basu became the West Bengal chief minister heading a multi-party Left Front government, a post he himself decided to give up almost a quarter century later.
Under Basu's leadership, the CPI-M expanded its social base in villages. His government brought about sweeping agrarian reforms, devolved power to rural bodies or panchayats and undertook rapid agricultural development.
The Marxists soon developed well-oiled election machinery that ensured victory in one election after another, stunning friends and foes alike and becoming a rarity of sorts in democratic politics around the world.
Basu led the Marxists to power five times in a row in West Bengal.
Along with his scholarly finance minister Ashok Mitra, he vigorously sought more powers for the states. He also played a key role in bringing together non-Congress state governments and parties in the 1980s.
He took an active part in the confabulations in the run up to the formation of non-Congress governments in 1989, 1996, 1997 and 2004, in the process becoming a national figure.
His tenure as chief minister was not without allegations of corruption, especially against his industrialist son. But these remained just allegations.
While the agrarian reforms in West Bengal were hailed as a model across the country, Basu was widely faulted for his poor showing in various other sectors including industry, education and health.
Even after relinquishing office as chief minister in 2000, Basu continued to play a big role in the CPI-M and Indian politics till repeated bouts of illness finally took their toll.(Courtesy: IANS) |
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The Neuner I Knew |
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By Chhotebhai |
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FATHER Josef Neuner SJ passed away in early December in Pune, at the grand age of 101. I did not grieve his death, because for a holy man like him, death is but another step forward in the journey of life. Normally the number 101 is associated with the book/movie "101 Dalmatians". Dalmatians are white dogs with black spots, and highly strung by nature. Neuner was quite the opposite.
He was a gentle giant, which may sound like an oxymoron, a contradiction in terms. 2000 years ago Simeon had prophesised that Jesus would be a sign of contradiction (cf Lk 2:34). Some modern translations use the phrase "a sign that will be opposed", or contradicted. Perhaps a better word would be a "contra-indication"; for words like "contradiction" and "opposition" have today assumed a negative connotation.
The word "contra-indication" would be apt for Neuner; for he was lucid in his thoughts, simple in his lifestyle, very devout with a special love for Mother Mary, and tenacious in his theological convictions. It is for this reason that I have carefully chosen the word "contra-indication" to describe Neuner. He combined the intellectual prowess of the Jesuit with the humility and simplicity of the Franciscan.
Fr. Neuner could not be categorised as a liberal or a conservative, pro or anti liberation theology, charismatic renewal, indigenisation, psychotherapy etc. I happened to be in De Nobili College, Pune, for his 74th birthday on August 19, 1982. Though I was a layman, he especially agreed to guide me in the classic 30-day Ignatian retreat (I had earlier made one under another great Jesuit -- Fr Dan Rice SJ). For Neuner's birthday I made a sketch entitled "The Cup is better than the Bottle", that I presented to him; and it was later put up on the seminary notice board. At that time there was a strong movement to stop the use of feeding bottles, being unhygienic. It was better to feed infants with a cup and a spoon.
This is what I saw in Fr. Neuner. He did not want theologians or priests to be mere bottle suckers, swallowing what was fed to them. He wanted to inculcate in them a spirit of enquiry and a thirst for truth.
What amazed me about Fr Neuner was his clarity of thought. At that time I was living as a layman in a Christian ashram, and trying to discern my future way of life. Fr. Neuner said to me in no uncertain terms, "The life that you are now living finds no place in the Church. You are neither a religious, nor a layman, neither fish nor fowl. You must decide for yourself what you want to be." That is when I felt God speaking to me through Fr Neuner that I should revert to a secular life as a married person, and work for the Church in the temporal order through secular affairs.
I had first met Fr Neuner a couple of years before that at the National Convention of Vocation Promoters in Pune. I was then the founder Secretary of the U.P. Regional Youth & Vocations Bureau. At the convention we were in the same discussion group. Several priests and religious waxed eloquent on the new emphasis on the basic Christian vocation, as against the earlier one on promoting vocations to the priesthood and religious life. I had tried to intervene that we should not discourage specific vocations, but needed to drastically revamp the process of vocation promotion, which then concentrated on catching them young and uncorrupted by the ways of the world! I had tried to advocate more mature vocations, after going through a young person's period of growth in critical awareness. Mine was a lone voice, until Fr Neuner intervened to say that the convention should take serious note of what I was propounding.
It was also at that time that I saw Fr Neuner's book, "The Prophetic Role of the Laity", published by NVSC, Pune. It had a profound impact on me -- the nature of a prophet -- one who stands alone, is unfazed by criticism or ostracism, and speaks in God's name, for the welfare of His people. The book also emphasised the role of the laity in secular/temporal affairs, as envisioned by Vatican II. Unfortunately, the vast majority of the laity, who are blissfully unaware of Vatican II, still thinks that being a member of the parish council, doing the readings or taking the collection in Church on Sundays is the ultimate form of lay participation in the life of the church.
Fr Neuner was probably the greatest contemporary Christologist in India. His monumental work "The Christian Faith", published in 1973, is a standard textbook for theology in every seminary in India. It was first written in German in 1938, and constantly updated, especially to incorporate the teachings of Vatican II. Later editions of this work found appreciation and support from Rev Karl Rahner SJ, undoubtedly the most brilliant theologian of the 20th century. Despite his gigantic standing in the world of theology, Fr Neuner was ever the humble and simple soul. His life and teachings have left an indelible mark on me.
As an expert theologian who assisted in the drafting of the Vatican II documents, he was deeply committed to the radical reforms envisaged by Vatican II ecclesiology. Unfortunately, in India at least, these reforms have been largely cosmetic, and limited to the liturgy. The church has not addressed the core issues of a dialoguing, participatory, indigenous and servant church. It still continues in all its Roman pageantry, triumphalism and hierarchical clericalism. Has Fr Neuner's life been in vain?
Thousands of priests and religious, and perhaps a few laypersons like me, had the unique opportunity of learning the ways of the Lord from Fr Neuner. Now that he has gone ahead I hope and pray that his students and disciples will imbibe his spirit of theological honesty and social praxis; for the cup is better than the bottle. (Courtesy: Indian Currents (www.indiancurrents.org)
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The writer is a former National President of the All India Catholic Union
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William Safire, Political Columnist and Oracle of Language, Dies at 79 |
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By The New York Times |
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William Safire, a speechwriter for President Richard M. Nixon and a Pulitzer Prize-winning political columnist for The New York Times who also wrote novels, books on politics and a Malaprop's treasury of articles on language, died at a hospice in Rockville, Md., on Sunday. He was 79.
The cause was pancreatic cancer, said Martin Tolchin, a friend of the family.
There may be many sides in a genteel debate, but in the Safire world of politics and journalism it was simpler: There was his own unambiguous wit and wisdom on one hand and, on the other, the blubber of fools he called "nattering nabobs of negativism" and "hopeless, hysterical hypochondriacs of history."
He was a college dropout and proud of it, a public relations go-getter who set up the famous Nixon-Khrushchev "kitchen debate" in Moscow, and a White House wordsmith in the tumultuous era of war in Vietnam, Nixon's visit to China and the gathering storm of the Watergate scandal, which drove the president from office.
Then, from 1973 to 2005, Mr. Safire wrote his twice-weekly "Essay" for the Op-Ed page of The Times, a forceful conservative voice in the liberal chorus. Unlike most Washington columnists who offer judgments with Olympian detachment, Mr. Safire was a pugnacious contrarian who did much of his own reporting, called people liars in print and laced his opinions with outrageous wordplay.
Critics initially dismissed him as an apologist for the disgraced Nixon coterie. But he won the 1978 Pulitzer Prize for commentary, and for 32 years tenaciously attacked and defended foreign and domestic policies, and the foibles, of seven administrations. Along the way, he incurred enmity and admiration, and made a lot of powerful people squirm.
Mr. Safire also wrote four novels, including "Full Disclosure" (Doubleday, 1977), a best-seller about succession issues after a president is blinded in an assassination attempt, and nonfiction that included "The New Language of Politics" (Random House, 1968), and "Before the Fall" (Doubleday, 1975), a memoir of his White House years.
And from 1979 until earlier this month, he wrote "On Language," a New York Times Magazine column that explored written and oral trends, plumbed the origins and meanings of words and phrases, and drew a devoted following, including a stable of correspondents he called his Lexicographic Irregulars.
The columns, many collected in books, made him an unofficial arbiter of usage and one of the most widely read writers on language. It also tapped into the lighter side of the dour-looking Mr. Safire: a Pickwickian quibbler who gleefully pounced on gaffes, inexactitudes, neologisms, misnomers, solecisms and perversely peccant puns, like "the president's populism" and "the first lady's momulism," written during the Carter presidency.
There were columns on blogosphere blargon, tarnation-heck euphemisms, dastardly subjunctives and even Barack and Michelle Obama's fist bumps. And there were Safire "rules for writers": Remember to never split an infinitive. Take the bull by the hand and avoid mixing metaphors. Proofread carefully to see if you words out. Avoid clichés like the plague. And don't overuse exclamation marks!!
Behind the fun, readers said, was a talented linguist with an addiction to alliterative allusions. There was a consensus, too, that his Op-Ed essays, mostly written in Washington and syndicated in hundreds of newspapers, were the work of a sophisticated analyst with voluminous contacts and insights into the way things worked in Washington.
Mr. Safire called himself a pundit -- the word, with its implication of self-appointed expertise, might have been coined for him -- and his politics "libertarian conservative," which he defined as individual freedom and minimal government. He denounced the Bush administration’s U.S.A. Patriot Act as an intrusion on civil liberties, for example, but supported the war in Iraq.
He was hardly the image of a button-down Times man: The shoes needed a shine, the gray hair a trim. Back in the days of suits, his jacket was rumpled, the shirt collar open, the tie askew. He was tall but bent -- a man walking into the wind. He slouched and banged a keyboard, talked as fast as any newyawka and looked a bit gloomy, like a man with a toothache coming on.
His last Op-Ed column was "Never Retire." He then became chairman of the Dana Foundation, which supports research in neuroscience, immunology and brain disorders. In 2005, he testified at a Senate hearing in favor of a law to shield reporters from prosecutors' demands to disclose sources and other information. In 2006, he received the Presidential Medal of Freedom from President George W. Bush. From 1995 to 2004, he was a member of the board that awards the Pulitzer Prizes.
William Safir was born on Dec. 17, 1929, in New York City, the youngest of three sons of Oliver C. and Ida Panish Safir. (The "e" was added to clarify pronunciation.) He graduated from the Bronx High School of Science and attended Syracuse University, but quit after his second year in 1949 to take a job with Tex McCrary, a columnist for The New York Herald Tribune who hosted radio and television shows; the young legman interviewed Mae West and other celebrities.
In 1951, Mr. Safire was a correspondent for WNBC-TV in Europe and the Middle East, and jumped into politics in 1952 by organizing an Eisenhower-for-President rally at Madison Square Garden. He was in the Army from 1952 to 1954, and for a time was a reporter for the Armed Forces Network in Europe. In Naples he interviewed both Ingrid Bergman and Lucky Luciano within a few hours of each other.
In 1959, working in public relations, he was in Moscow to promote an American products exhibition and managed to steer Vice President Richard M. Nixon and Soviet Premier Nikita S. Khrushchev into the "kitchen debate" on capitalism versus communism. He took a well-known photograph of the encounter. Nixon was delighted, and hired Mr. Safire for his 1960 campaign for the presidency against John F. Kennedy.
Starting his own public relations firm in 1961, Mr. Safire worked in Gov. Nelson A. Rockefeller's 1964 presidential race and on John V. Lindsay's 1965 campaign for mayor of New York. Mr. Safire also wrote his first book, "The Relations Explosion" (Macmillan, 1963).
In 1962, he married the former Helene Belmar Julius, a model, pianist and jewelry designer. The couple had two children, Mark and Annabel. His wife and children survive him, as does a granddaughter, Lily Safire.
In 1968, he sold his agency, became a special assistant to President Nixon and joined a White House speechwriting team that included Patrick J. Buchanan and Raymond K. Price Jr. Mr. Safire wrote many of Nixon's speeches on the economy and Vietnam, and in 1970 coined the "nattering nabobs" and "hysterical hypochondriacs" phrases for Vice President Spiro T. Agnew.
After Arthur Ochs Sulzberger, publisher of The Times, hired Mr. Safire, one critic said it was like setting a hawk loose among doves. As Watergate broke, Mr. Safire supported Nixon, but retreated somewhat after learning that he, like others in the White House, had been secretly taped.
Mr. Safire won his Pulitzer Prize for columns that accused President Jimmy Carter's budget director, Bert Lance, of shady financial dealings. Mr. Lance resigned, but was acquitted in a trial. He then befriended his accuser.
Years later, Mr. Safire called Hillary Clinton a "congenital liar" in print. Mrs. Clinton said she was offended only for her mother's sake. But a White House aide said that Bill Clinton, "if he were not the president, would have delivered a more forceful response on the bridge of Mr. Safire's nose."
Mr. Safire was delighted, especially with the proper use of the conditional. (Courtesy: The New York Times) |
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Gangubai Hangal: A Gift from Heaven |
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By June Luthra |
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THEY say the emancipation of women in Hindusani classical music began with her. And they do not say it just because, despite being married to a Brahmin, she retained her maiden name -- a sign of her low caste status. It is also not because she adhered to the matrilineal traditions throughout her life.
There is much more to Gangubai Hangal, the legendary singer, the rebel and the sensitive woman.
In her memoir, 'Nanna Badukina Haadu' (The Song of My Life), she had commented that she was born at a time when a male musician was known as Ustad if he was a Muslim and Pandit, if he was a Hindu. But a woman musician would inevitably be known as Bai.
But Gangubai, with a musical career that spanned over eight decades, managed to bring respectability to women singers, thus changing the face of Indian musical history. Small wonder that we are all mourning her death as an irreparable loss to the musical world. She died in Karnataka's Hubli town on July 21 at the ripe old age of 97.
The title 'The Doyenne of Kirana Gharana', four honorary doctorates and a Padma Bhushan and a Padma Vibhshan -- came after prolonged struggles in her early life.
The daughter of a boatman-agriculturist father, she had to fight caste divide but most of all, the gender divide. She was ridiculed as a 'gaanewali' for trying to storm into the male-dominated world of classical music.
But gene triumphed over hurdles. Gangubai, who inherited her passion for music from her mother Ambababai, who was a Carnatic musician, blossomed under the guidance of Krishnamacharya Hulgar and later Sawai
Gandharva.
She will be remembered for her unique style of rendering 'khayal' or 'bandish', which she did with utmost precision, embellishing it with 'sur lagav' and 'laykari'.
She was just 12 when she first sang in a group to welcome Mahatma Gandhi and other Congress leaders at the 1924 Belgaum session of the Indian National Congress. She continued her musical sojourn by singing at Ganesh Chaturthi celebrations.
Her big break came at a concert in Mumbai in 1933. She made an interesting comment on her memoir about her recording experience in Mumbai: "For my first recording, when HMV
invited me to Mumbai, I went there because they were taking care of the journey and sightseeing."
That proved really to be the journey of her musical career. She was reborn musically in her mid-career when she lost her voice after a brief illness, only to regain it later with a new masculine quality. And this proved to be a blessing as her newly acquired androgynous voice established her as powerful singer among her contemporaries.
A gift from heaven which became instrumental later in changing her image from just another Bai to 'The Baiji', the one and only in the Hindustani classical music!
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Robert McNamara - He led a "terribly wrong war" |
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By Associated Press |
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Robert S. McNamara was perhaps the most influential US defense secretary of the 20th century. He helped lead the US into the maelstrom of Vietnam and spent the rest of his life wrestling with the war's moral consequences.
Serving Presidents John F. Kennedy and Lyndon B. Johnson from 1961 to 1968, Mr. McNamara oversaw hundreds of military missions, thousands of nuclear weapons and billions of dollars in military spending and foreign arms sales. He also enlarged the defense secretary's role, handling foreign diplomacy and the dispatch of troops to enforce civil rights in the South.
Mr. McNamara had recently been named president of the Ford Motor Company when he was tapped to become the country's eighth defense secretary. He became enmeshed in the plans for the 1961 Bay of Pigs invasion of Cuba. He then helped resolve the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962, the same year that he made his first trip to South Vietnam. He concluded that the American military mission there could be wrapped up in three or four years.
After Kennedy was assassinated on Nov. 22, 1963, Mr. McNamara found that President Johnson depended on him to win the war, which became a full-fledged conflict for the US the following year.
As early as April 1964, Senator Wayne Morse, Democrat of Oregon, called Vietnam "McNamara's War." Mr. McNamara did not object. "I am pleased to be identified with it," he said, "and do whatever I can to win it."
Half a million American soldiers went to war on his watch. More than 16,000 died; 42,000 more would fall in the seven years to come.
The war became his personal nightmare. Nothing he did, none of the tools at his command -- the power of American weapons, the forces of technology and logic or the strength of American soldiers -- could stop the armies of North Vietnam. He concluded well before leaving the Pentagon that the war was futile, but he did not share that insight with the public until late in life.
In 1995, he took a stand against his own conduct of the war, confessing in a memoir that it was "wrong, terribly wrong." |
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Principal extraordinary |
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By A.J. Philip |
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IT is nearly a decade since I had my first encounter with Dr Anil Wilson, who was then Principal of St. Stephen's College, Delhi. My ward -- daughter of a friend -- had applied for admission to BA History (Honours) course.
Since her father was posted in the US, I was her local guardian. But to my surprise, she was not called for interview. She had secured more than 90 per cent marks in Arts in the qualifying examination.
It was difficult to meet the Principal but I managed to get into his room. When I told him about the problem, he looked at the certificate and asked me to get it "authenticated" by Delhi University. We got it done in a few minutes.
When I showed Dr Wilson the "attested certificate," her name was included among those called for interview. On the interview day, I accompanied her to the college. A brilliant student, she could answer all the questions except one relating to Indian history as she had not studied the subject in the US.
But when the list of selected candidates was put on the notice board, my ward's name was at the bottom of the waiting list. Everybody, including some insiders, told us that there was no likelihood of her getting admission. Unfortunately, we had not applied elsewhere.
A little probe revealed that she had the highest marks among all the applicants. She was the daughter of a Christian priest (I mention this as Christians get some concession in the college!). In other words, all those selected by the college had lower marks than her. We could not reconcile ourselves to the rejection.
We decided to fight it out in a court of law and approached my former colleague at the Hindustan Times, Mr Krishan Mahajan, who had started practice in the Supreme Court. Everybody told me that it was pointless to fight against the college, which enjoyed enormous clout. My friend and former UNI editor, Mr E.C. Thomas, had a bitter experience in this regard.
But that did not dissuade us. Mr Mahajan told us that we could file a writ petition only if we could make Delhi University a party to it. He advised us to give a representation to the Vice-Chancellor. We met the VC who was aghast that such a brilliant girl was rejected. He promised that he would get her admission in any college under Delhi University, other than St. Stephen's and the Hindu.
In our presence, he dictated a show-cause notice to the Principal asking him why action should not be taken against him. He was frank enough to tell us that since it was a minority institution, he could do little if the Principal chose to ignore his notice. In any case, Mr Mahajan had already drafted a writ petition.
On the next working day, I got a telephone call from the college asking us to deposit fees and take admission. With that, the case became infructuous. On the day the college opened, she was called by the Principal and told that he cared two hoots for the letters of protest that I had written to him.
Incidentally, my ward, who is now settled in the US, won the most coveted prize the college offers from the hands of the Principal. She was also the editor of the College magazine.
Till today, I have not been able to understand why my ward was rejected in the first place. Was it because I had accidentally hurt his ego? Soon, Dr Wilson and I were members of a committee to choose the head of the journalism department at the New Delhi YMCA. He managed not to speak to me while interviewing candidates. The ice was finally broken when he joined Himachal Pradesh University as Vice-Chancellor. I was with The Tribune in Chandigarh at that time.
He would occasionally send articles to me for publication. He considered me so close that he would even forward to me humorous SMSs he received.
Whatever may be my personal experience, Dr Anil Wilson, who died of pancreatic cancer on June 25, was considered one of the most competent principals St. Stephen's College ever had. Countless are the students who will speak about his greatness as a teacher and administrator.
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Habib Tanvir: Theatre was in his blood |
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By June Luthra |
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THE omnipresent pipe, Charandas Chor...and what falls into the sequence, naturally, is the name Habib Tanvir. Alas, one has to talk of him in the past tense.
For, this unequivocal 'father figure' of Indian Theatre died of pneumonia and pulmonary complications on June 8. He was 85.
Even those who do not know Tanvir personally are aware of his working style thanks to his iconic Charandas Chor, which has been enacted in all the Indian languages and in all the states by almost all theatre groups worth their salt.
The founder of Naya Theatre in Bhopal, Tanvir created a new theatrical lingo by blending folk elements with contemporary theatre.
He worked extensively with the tribals from Chhattisgarh. It is a tribute to him that because of his endeavour, folk theatre today enjoys an international status. In turn, this instills the belief among folk performers that their art is no less important.
Some may say that Tanvir was not the only one to do so. True, in performing art it has become almost fashionable to use folk elements.
But what sets Tanvir apart from the rest is that he never used them as mere embellishment. He used the form called 'nacha' to tell a story.
Born in Raipur in 1923, his skill of story telling on stage was honed at London's Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts. Scarcity of funds, which seems to be part of every successful artiste's fate, taught him to be innovative.
Tanvir had evolved the technique of make-belief theatre using human form as props on stage.
A strong pillar of the Left movement in India, particularly the Indian People's Theatre movement, his plays had a strong socialist tint– be it his earlier plays like Sutradhar, Indra Sabha and Charandas Chor or his relatively new ones like Ponga Pundit or Raj-Rakt.
He was decorated with prestigious honours like the Sangeet Natak Akademi award and the Padmashri.
Tanvir, who is survived by his daughter Nagneen Tanvir, was working on his autobiography when fell sick.
Nageen, who is unsure about the fate of the book, recalls her father as someone who never gave up on his belief and idealism despite the many hurdles he had to surmount in his life.
Whether she is able to complete the book or not, the world is waiting to know what made Habib Tanvir the man he was -- his genuineness, his ability to love unconditionally and his courage to lash out at the system when needed and his source of inspiration -- pipe and all!
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