My own teenage memories of Himachal are still too tender and raw to talk about the Uttarakhand flood in legible and emotionally restrained terms. I’ve done separate takes on Kolkata, Mumbai, Pune, Chandigarh, Delhi and Bangalore, and have pieces on Rajasthan and Orissa. I had already written on Tagore and Ray and touched upon both Netaji and Gandhi. I had written about the Buddha (Goutama Buddha, not the ex-chief minister of West Bengal) sometime back. I had tried, and failed, to drum up enough emotion for an exploratory essay on our rich cultural past that has anyway been done to death by every writer worth their salt on the subcontinent. I gave up.Īh but the after taste of mutton still lingered on my palate. The links led me on a mad journey from the travel routes of Aryans, to King Bharata, a chapter on the Vedas, then something about Gandhi’s fast, followed by a most knowledgeable guide to preparing for the Lecturer Eligibility Tests conducted by the University Grants Commission.
The problem was these chapters were in order of popularity rather than chronology. I browsed about King Bharata, read a history blog and got totally enmeshed in a chapter-wise rendering of our national history from some government approved school books. I must admit searching by ‘Bharatvarsha’ was more rewarding. Any kind of gunfire, real or verbal, is distant on a full stomach. After a meal of mutton and rice more designed for a holiday than a working evening, I found myself staring vacantly at the computer.
A piece that internet users generally interested in India would like to see.īy the time I finished my daily online chores, it was already late for lunch. Forts, sadhus, hills, temples, mosques, sea beaches strung together into something majestic and mythical and glorious. I wanted to write something more solemn, of historical importance. Keeping in mind the eternally argumentative Indian, introduce debates around popular keywords such as Anna Hazare, Telengana, Bodoland, human rights and attacks by Pakistan along the LoC. And of course, there are the celebrations – from the prime minister’s speech – to flags hoisted in every state.
Photos of innocent children holding the tricolour or old people showcasing toothless, benevolent grins could come in handy. If it’s a heart-warming rags to riches story, talk about India Shining. If it’s a heart wrenching story of a rape survivor, pack in something about how ineffectual the laws are in this country. To anyone in the News business (what else do I call it?), it’s a day of pithy editorials and strong reports, all flavoured with the appropriate degree of patriotism.
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