to the privilege, speak

''What did you learn from all these years?"
"Rules are made by us, and they can be changed"

As I had graduated from college on Physics, and sat for an interview in Tata Institute for Social Sciences for a Masters in one of the social sciences course, this was the conversation. I had never realised it until they asked.

I eventually never joined TISS and went back to Science, but this conversation remained with me. Now it has been many years, a PhD in physics away.

Privilege in our society comes rare, in a society where just two or three generations back all of us were farmers. All, who have moved through the tangles of poverty and disease to burgeon into a middle class. Many of the fatty layers on our belly have owed it to our guardians, their toil which probably was the only way to fight for a life, not succumbing to disease, not worrying or praying for our daily bread. This privilege, as it is hard to have fought for, as it is necessary for families and children who surround us, as it is a possession not risk losing, it has a comfort of looking away.

Rarity of privilege has its addictions. And our brains have ways to justify them. Be it a broken love, an extra dessert or our own stories on our inabilities.

My PhD adviser used to remind me so very often "Adhip, what is the big picture?"

In college, I remember going to Jantar Mantar, shouting "Manmohan Singh Murdabad". Strangers would join to sing songs of hope. Hugging together for a shared promise; for a shared future. Privilege, now in hindsight, there sure was, but felt common. I remember, when me and a Kashmiri friend went out in the middle of night to roam around. This was much before now.  He had hugged me then to say this is the first time he has been outside home beyond 6. My privilege took a prick. I remember, when the kids in an orphanage we had celebrated with during Diwali, while leaving, had hugged us. One of them turned to say "Bhaiya, will you come again?". My privilege was shaken a bit. I said yes, absolutely.

I never went back, my privilege went back in control.

Privilege always came first. It can always dictate, arm twist.

But those hugs are worth fighting for. They will not probably always remain.

Twisted arms can't hug.

Too many have already been. Broken, bruised and cheered for while they were been.

The comfort of privilege has a backlog, to the hugs that have seeded it, shaped it, nurtured it.

To that privilege, speak.
Speak when there is still something worth fighting for.

Chalekere -- physics, tea and conversations

Its strange how life throws at you occasions. Not long ago had I signed a petition to IISc, for its brazen act of taking land away from the commons of Chalekere. And in turn of occasions, I was thrown at teaching here for two days.

Away in the village of Chalekere, one finds dogs, monkeys and sheep roaming around. Also fantastic tea, rice and sambar.

‘' the complete setup can be divided in two parts, a system and a bath -- note this is not Kesari bath.” As I crack this joke and audience gets into a nervous laughter, the session on stat-mech starts. I notice 40-50 year olds smiling. I ask them a question, they raise hands. As the 3 hour lecture ends, I meet Prof. Hegde after lunch. He starts to chat on various things, about days in IITK. About days when academia is not just about science, but about learning about various fields, about sociology and history. I curiously stare, as he points to his IITK days. He says more than half the students were leftist. Any day there could be strike. Today there is no fire. People don’t do much. Don’t think much. Don’t say much. It is required for creativity. He talks about how the UG programme at IISc was set up. About various courses, choice of credits. We are all on phones. We just don’t do anything. Don’t want to do anything. We are people with all haves.

As our conversations travel from topic to topic, theme to theme, he suddenly breaks into – you know I am learning how to chant Vedas. One has to kill time. I got retired. I did not want to be like my friends. I saw them taking long walks, 2 hours in morning, 2 hours in evening. I think one day one of them will fall in gutter (He added, exactly that happened with one).

I want purpose. I learnt it well. I am now on Rigveda. I passed all others (there is some kind of an exam, if I understand correctly). Let me show you something – he brings out the Rigveda book, finds a chapter and cites it in rhythm. Tells they had discovered a way of memorizing things. It shuts me from everything. I tried music, but it was too late for me, I could not do it. Beside Rigveda, lies a book by Sashi Tharoor. That guy writes well. Rajdeep Sardesai just has a book out, have you read it? I am just going to read it soon. As we chat about demonetisation -- Raghu Ram's new book is very good. Subramanium Swamy's new book is also good. He calls out the blunders of this government bluntly.

He and his wife, a fellow Professor in Mathematics had joined hands to set up this Talent centre. A government secretary had asked me “what change has this made?”. I couldn't answer him satisfactorily. One day the idea struck me. I got ALL the marks of all SSLC students for last five years of Karnataka. We tracked each school's performance, both where we intervened, where we didn't. Prof. Hegde shows me his report on how school students have improved due to teaching of their teachers.

I didn't do any choice sampling. All data was taken. It shows clearly. I am very happy.

As I come back to my room. It feels strange when I meet some of these few individuals. They read, think, "do vedas", “be leftist”, criticise government, have no qualms about talking to a guy they just met about their lives, they come to Chalekere for 10 years – set up a teaching place for faculty and school students. I am sure he is 70+, and he has fire like an impatient kid. It still feels he is running short on time and has to do so many things.

He tells me about books, he is angry about 10 different things, he is doing something he loves. Back in the institute, I am not sure, what we do. We worry about lives, about loneliness, about research, about things going out of hand.

He points to me – their is lot of stuff there. One should read. More importantly, one should write.

One should write. Learn from experiments. In the course of a 2 hour conversation with him, he tells me about 4-5 odd books worth reading. Tells me, have you read Einstien’s original paper on photoelectric effect. Its a gem. He is not a physics person.

Its strange, how life throws at you occasions, when you least expect.

By the way, what triggered this conversation? I shared on the lunch table “I had cracked a cow joke, I asked them to estimate, how many barbers are present in Bangalore. If a government thinks that each should be given a cow, how many cows are required?”

“You may wonder cow is not related to barbers, but then you never know”.

 And just to be complete, I do still stand by my signature on that petition.