my own boswell

Native Wisdom!

I always enjoy my conversations with cab drivers, whenever they are so inclined. They are a veritable source of information on the state of the nation, local politics, the weather, where to stay, what to see, and the like. More often than not, they are a fund of native wisdom that can set you thinking differently

The other day, I had a very useful interaction with one such cab driver who, it turned out, was not just interesting but informed as well. The `gems of knowledge' that he brought forth would put many political pundits to shame, by the way!

Here goes the conversation: I was more at the receiving end, as you would see. [This is a free rendering of the original dialogue in Hindi.]

Cab driver (CD): So, sir-ji, we have a new President, eh?

Me: yeah, and a lady, to boot!

CD: Yes, yes, these are the days of women's empowerment; they are coming up everywhere. I hear that Hillary Clinton is contesting elections in the US.

Me: That is right.

CD: So, what will Bill Clinton do in the White House?

Me: I am not too sure

CD: He can spend more time with the Interns, I guess!

Me: Ha, ha!

CD: But Sir-ji, tell me something, what is all this Indian media going gaga about?

Me: Why? What happened?

CD: We had Indira Gandhi as Prime Minister for 15 long years. And that was much before Hillary came to know of hubby Bill's extra-presidential activities in the White House.

Me: That's true!

CD: And Indira Gandhi ruled with such authority which not many other Prime Ministers had.

Me: I agree.

CD: So, what's this talk about women's empowerment! Indiraji was there as Prime Minster for so long, and so long ago.

Me: What are you trying to tell me?

CD: If we could boast of a woman Prime Minister for 15 long years, and that too starting 1966, what is this tamasha about having a woman President in 2007!

Me: It makes a difference, I believe.

CD: What difference, and for whom! After all, the Prime Minister runs the government ' at least that was so when Indira Gandhi was the Prime Minister. There was no remote control those days, you see! And the President signed wherever she wanted him to sign ' may be even while in the bathroom!

Me: Don't tell me you remember Abu Abraham's cartoon of Fakhruddin Ali Ahmed signing state documents from the bathtub!

CD: Any way, we all know the President just signs on the dotted line. Even after that, they don't get a second term!

Me: How sad!

CD: So, if in 15 years, Indira Gandhi couldn't do much for her sisters, how can you expect poor Pratibha Patil to do it, that too as the President?

Me: But even if it is merely symbolism, it is a forward-looking step.

CD: Have you heard of Mao Zedong? He talked of `two steps forward, and one step back'!

Me: What are you, man? A professor of political science, masquerading as a cabbie?

CD: No, sir-ji, I am a simple cab driver!

Me: So why are you questioning the election of Pratibha Patil as the President? After all, she was nominated by another lady, which doesn't ordinarily happen, you know!

CD: Oh! The Lady with the Inner Voice! But I thought she never thought of Pratibha Patil in the first place, if we go by the media reports!

Me: May be, but the Left parties made us think right

CD: May be that is why the Left parties always get left out by the right-thinking people!

Me: What do you mean?

CD: If they want women to come up, then why don't they nominate more women candidates for Parliament and Assemblies? And certainly they can have more women as office bearers of their parties?

Me: Well, you know, there is a way with politics in our country

CD: I know, sir-ji, and that is precisely the problem! You see Kalam sab! What a great President he has been! Till he came, we only knew of Presidents who confined themselves in the fortress called Rashtrapati Bhavan.

Me: True.

CD: Now, we know that beyond the fortress, the pomp and pageant, there is a human being, who smiles, laughs, mingles with children and ordinary people like us, First Citizen though! He didn't even change his hairstyle, you see!

Me: I saw!

CD: And sir-ji, he didn't play any politics; he just made us realize that we have a President who knows his duties and responsibilities without intimidating us with his high office.

Me: may be.

CD: Not may be, sir-ji! Unfortunately, people like us don't have the power to elect the President. And sab-ji?

Me: Tell me

CD: If there was an election to the office of the President, who do you think would have won?

Me: Well

CD: No one would have had the moral authority to contest against Kalamji. And if anyone tried, he or she would not have got even the deposit back!

Me: Well, well

Me: Now, I have a question to ask!

CD: Shoot!

Me: What should we call the new President: Rashtrapati or Rashtrapatni?

CDK: Neither! Rashtradhyaksh should be just about right!

The Dialectics of Presidential Elections

Prakash Karat, the General Secretary of the Communist Party of India (Marxist), is a special political leader.  Oxford-educated, suave, and soft-spoken, he is more an academic than the quintessential politician whom we all are accustomed to.  Karat would do honour to any reputed University or thinktank by his intellectual insights and scholarship.  His erudition sits lightly on his broad shoulders; he is one of our most unassuming leaders as well.

This gentleman politician, who plays a decisive role in shaping the future of the country by virtue of his party's support to the present government at the Centre, is known for his courage of conviction.  The `historical blunder', which prevented Jyoti Basu from becoming the Prime Minister of the country some years back, has been squarely blamed on Karat's stand that the Communist Party should not hold the reins of power, heading an amorphous rainbow coalition.  More recently, the Capital's grapevines say that Karat was also instrumental in denying a chance to a communist leader to become the President of India, for the very same reasons!

It is another matter that in the process, however, Karat and his left colleagues have, wittingly or otherwise, enabled a lady to rise to the top!

When the presidential parleys were on, Prakash Karat did some plain speaking, insisting that the Rashtrapati should be from a political background.  May be, he went by Aristotle's assertion that `man, by nature, is a political animal'. Yes, Karat did not say that the new President should be a politician, but, one with a political background, familiar with the dynamics of Indian politics, sound knowledge of constitutional imperatives, and a feel of the pulse of the nation and its people.  And this is as it should be: without these attributes, a President will be found wanting in discharging his onerous duties effectively and efficaciously.  It is a different matter whether Karat thinks that Pratibha Devi Singh Patil Shekhawat encompasses in her personality the above laudable attributes!

Then came the bombshell from Karat!  The Vice-President need not have a political background, he declared; for effect, Karat added that he or she could be someone who has enriched our national life by specific contributions!  While no one will contest the second part of his statement, there is definitely a problem with the first argument.  And Karat should know, unless he wants himself to be clubbed alongside the run-of-the-mill politician.

According to Article 65 of the Constitution, the Vice-President shall act as President or discharge his functions during casual vacancies in the office (by reason of death, resignation, removal or otherwise) or during the absence of the President or his illness or other cause.  Beyond this, Article 65(3) expressly provides that "The Vice-President shall, during, and in respect of, the period while he is so acting as, or discharging the functions of, President, have all the powers and immunities of the President. …"

Thus, the Constitution envisages the Vice-President to discharge all functions of the President in the latter's absence and makes it amply clear that while doing so, the incumbent will have all the powers and privileges of the President.  Prakash Karat's argument that the President should be a political person but the Vice-President need not be, perhaps fails to fathom this constitutional mandate. 

If we go by our constitutional history, we will notice that most Vice-Presidents were not merely renowned in some specified field, but national leaders of eminence.  Dr. S. Radhakrishnan and Dr. Zakir Hussain were stalwarts of the freedom struggle, besides being renowned educationists.  V.V. Giri, Dr. B.D. Jatti, R. Venkataraman, Dr. Shanker Dayal Sharma, K.R. Narayanan, Krishan Kant and Bhairon Singh Shekhawat were in public life for long, holding several constitutional positions, before assuming the office of the Vice-President.  G.S. Pathak and M. Hidayatullah became Vice-Presidents after distinguishing themselves as the Chief Justices of India.

Incidentally, except for Jatti, Pathak and Hidayatullah, and more recently Krishan Kant (and now, may be, Shekhawat), all Vice-Presidents had gone on to become the President of the Republic.

The constitutional safeguard of the Vice-President acting as President has also been resorted to in the past when Giri and Jatti both held office as Acting Presidents, the latter for nearly six months in one of the most turbulent periods of our history ' from the last days of the Emergency, through the momentous March 1977 General Elections and the defeat of Indira Gandhi, to the formation of the first non-Congress Government at the Centre.

Prakash Karat would also know the constitutional mandate that if the Vice-President himself is absent to perform the duties of the President, then the responsibility is entrusted to none other than the Chief Justice of India ' himself one of the highest constitutional functionaries.  In fact, Chief Justice M. Hidayatullah did 'act' as the President in July-August 1969 when both incumbents were not in office.

Equally important is the fact that the Vice-President of India functions as the ex officio Chairman of the Rajya Sabha.  In this role, he has the very challenging task of maintaining orderly conduct of the business of the Upper House of Indian Parliament that has political representation from many different parties.  In this era of coalition Governments, and Governments which are propped up in power with external support by some parties ' the best example being that of Karat's own party ' is it not imperative that the Vice-President should have a political background while not necessary being a politician? After all, as they say, when politics decides our future, should we not decide what our politics should be?

The renowned American TV anchor late Johnny Carson once said: "Democracy means that anyone can grow up to be President, and anyone who doesn't grow up can be Vice-President!". Certainly, Karat wouldn't subscribe to this `imperialist' take on democracy!

Prakash Karat is a fine gentleman, a learned one at that.  Yet, I am afraid his argument in favour of a political background for the President and against that for the Vice-President doesn't stand scrutiny.  May be, the dialectics of Presidential politics would have warranted such a fallacious proposition.  All the same, by coming out with this specious argument, Karat has done a great disservice to the two highest offices of the land, and also to his own reputation as a perceptive leader.

Many critics of Karat would tend to agree with his leader Karl Marx, though: "Reason has always existed, but not always in a reasonable form". Probably, that is where the dialectics lies

A Train of Memories

The boy kept his bag in the seat, and the luggage under the berth, and then very warmly, and genuinely, thanked me for `all the help'. I assured him, it was ok, after all his dad and I were together in the University years ago. When he called from Kerala to request me if I could put up his son at my place for a couple of days and help him complete the formalities of the admission procedure in Delhi University, I had readily agreed, recalling those wonderful hostel years. Now the boy was going back after taking the entrance test ' the results are expected only by end July.

I waited outside in the platform ' another ten minutes for the train to depart. The din and chaos associated with any railway station went on all around me. Passengers, porters, vendors, and assorted others, lent their voice to the cacophony emanating out of the loud speakers: nobody could really make out much of the announcements, I guess!!

It was then that I noticed the family in front of me. The young girl was standing at the entrance to the compartment, her big eyes red; her younger sister and mother were standing nearby, their eyes equally red. They were making a conscious ' or were it self-conscious? ' effort to make some conversation going. The dad was conspicuous, a little away from them, typical army officer, crew cut, handle bar moustache, smart turn out, taking a small walk in the crowded platform, casting sideways glance at the family in between.  No red eyes, the pain of seeing off the first-born daughter camouflaged in a tough military exterior.

The memory of a distant railway station thousands of miles away came, not rushing in but in slow motion, black and white, grainy

The young boy was leaving for far-off Delhi, the first time he was traveling outside of Kerala, trying for admission in the prestigious University in the Capital. The luggage was already kept under the berth, the seat marked `present' with a newspaper.

I stood outside with my parents and brother, all of us at a loss as to what to say or do next. My father kept looking here and there, as if searching for something, but without success; in between, he would, in a barely audible voice, advise me not to get down at any of the stations in between, not to stand near the door when the train was moving, and several other `not-to-do' things. My mother held on to my shirtsleeve, trying hard to control her tears.

And then the train hooted. I am not sure today whether, through my own teary eyes, I could see the tears of others

In the years since, these farewells repeated themselves many times over: growing up as I was, I became more and more adjusted to the new life of yearly visits home. But, growing old, for my parents, such farewells were more difficult, I presume.

My father was always there at the station to see me off, come rain or shine. As he grew old, the tears did drop. The last time he came to see me off, he didn't wait for the train to leave; he just held me, and then walked away to the waiting car outside. I remember him thus, disappearing into the crowd near the station's exit gate. The next time I saw him, he was already sinking

My mother doesn't come to the airport to see me off now. Nor does she hold my shirtsleeve, teary-eyed: she just hugs me tightly, and cries silently.

In Hazrat Nizamuddin, the train hooted. My friend's son waved, smiling at me. The young girl at the entrance to the compartment too waved ' but her mom and younger sister had already turned back towards the exit.

I also started to the exit, but memories now flooding, I instinctively looked back: the tough soldier was walking with the slowly moving train, holding his daughter's hand, saying nothing, and as the train picked up, letting her go - to her destination.

Did I see tears in his eyes? Or, like years ago, was I too misty-eyed to notice the teary eyes of my father?

A train of memories

The stations of life