The Great Divide [Revised]

"The Great Divide" was my P4 speech. I delivered it last week at Orators Toastmasters Club. I have been asked to repeat it with more rhetorical usages. This is the revised version of the same.

The Great Divide

Dawn is breaking and the Sun stealthily peeps over the horizon. It appears as if the Sun is playing hide and seek with the world. Suddenly, the game is over and you can see glimmering rays reflecting off the tin roofs in Dharavi and the tinted windows in Juhu.

Our explorations start with this dawn. Fellow Toastmasters and guests, I plan to walk you through two different mornings in India.

In Dharavi, a cheerful chirruping of sparrows replaces the mournful squealing of rats. Daylight seeps through a small window in Vinod’s mud shack. It reveals a curly black head. Further inspection shows that this is attached to a man's sleeping body, perched on a slim metal ledge, 12 feet above the ground. That is twice my height. He is sleeping as if an Army general has commanded him to be at Attention all the time. Any movement sideways, and he will fall like a ripened mango.

All is quite in a posh, marble white bungalow near Juhu Beach. The Church like stillness is occasionally interrupted by the hum of the air conditioning unit. In a bedroom of the bungalow, you can see pink satin blankets shuffling around. Peeking through these is a milky white face radiating contentment. Natasha is almost like a newborn child in her sleep, free of all worries. But suddenly her expression changes. It appears as if somebody is poking needles into her eyes, stirring up uncomfortable emotions. These needles are actually beams of sunlight. The maid hadn’t pulled the curtains close enough the previous night. She will have to be warned about this.

On one side is a family of 12 living in room the size of one and quarter car parks. On the other, is a slim lady occupying a master double bed in a room of the size of 4 car parks. Night-sounds suggest that in the former case, the occupants include an arthritic old man with a painful cough, a wailing colicky baby and an active amorous couple. While in the latter case! Well, the bedroom had to be sound proof.

Soon after 6 A.M, ugly screeches can be heard near Vinod’s hut. It sounds like hoards of crows and vultures are descending on a dead body for a meal. These are women jostling over water taps. “It's my turn! My husband needs to get to work!” a woman shouts. In Shiva Shakti Nagar there is a tap for every ten houses, or roughly 100 people.

Natasha rings for her bed tea. She tells the maid that she would like a warm bath and apricot juice to wash down the English breakfast. Then she lays back and enjoys the sugarless herbal tea served in white china with bright blue patterns.

In Dharavi, water is flowing down the street in a rippling sheet like a mini flood. Bisecting it is an open drain, which gushes torrentially. The water in the drain is black like plastic sludge. From the stink of this, it includes a lot of human excrement—which tiny naked butts are busy adding to. The scene is reminiscent of a filthy conveyor belt transporting coal.

Natasha has been running on her Swiss treadmill. The bandana on her head is soaking wet with sweat. Content with her workout, she puffs her way to the bathroom. What a session! She tests the temperature of the water in the bathtub. Ah! It is just right. But wait, what is this! A black towel. With a black towel, you can never tell if your hair is breaking off and needs attention. She rings for the maid and a white one immediately replaces the black towel. While she relaxes in her bath, she thinks, let me ask the maid to dispose of all the non-white towels. That should solve the problem.

It is not almost 7 A.M. and the early shift begins in Dharavi's 15,000 hutment factories. These factories are like beehives and men working there like worker bees. Typically, the factories consist of one or two storeys, stuffed with young boys and old men melting plastic, hammering iron and moulding clay. There are others who head out with scantily filled carts to spend a day in the hot and humid streets of Mumbai.

Natasha has nothing much to do till 11 in the morning when she meets Nikki. It is nearly spring. Any delay in replenishing their wardrobe with the spring collections will leave them vulnerable to fashion jabs from their friends. When it is time, she calls for her chauffeur driven, red Mercedes S Class and heads out. At a traffic signal, she notices a frail young boy wiping windshields. The cloth in his hand is so dirty, that Natasha wonders if it does any cleaning at all. She doesn’t realize that that piece of cloth is the boy’s only shirt. He dabs at her car with it and gestures for some coins. The signal turns green and the car moves on leaving the boy disappointed.

Vinod’s nephew, Chotu, heads out on the road with his only shirt slung over his frail shoulders. He has a couple of hours before his uncle will need him at his vegetable stall. He decides to make some money wiping cars on the busy cross section. He tries hard not to damage his only shirt. He hasn’t had much luck and decides to try one last time. However, the signal turns green as soon as he finishes. He notices the stick thin lady in the car and wonders what keeps her from eating!

This citation of extreme cases may be a little difficult to swallow. My only defense: Both these categories are growing in number with time. This raises many questions.

First: Which of these mornings is characteristic of India?

Second: Are we doing anything to alleviate the plight of the poor? It is easy to get away with this question. So, let me twist it a little. How many of us ensure that we do not add to the plate of woes that is already overflowing?

To sum it all up, I leave you with a quote: “It is poverty to decide that a child must die so that you may live as you wish.”

Parasitical Tendencies.

“The surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that none of it has ever tried to contact us.”

I hope we can excuse Calvin's grammar, but let us not ignore his thoughts. I am referring to Calvin of the Calvin and Hobbes fame.

If you are inclined to believe that I am going to talk about aliens, let me clarify that I am not.
There is another important message being conveyed by Bill Watterson through Calvin. We will discuss what it is, but before we get there, let us take a short detour.

Let me ask you a question. How many of you have visited a site of archeological and historical importance in India? Places like Hampi, Bellur and Halebiddu.

I like traveling occasionally. I have been to all these places. I feel elated when I first see the ubiquitous architectural beauty. But then, as I start exploring further, I notice that a lot has been pillaged, much more than what is left behind and can be restored. I feel contempt for the people who wrecked this destruction. My disdain for those people is based on the fact that they destroyed something that was mine by natural inheritance. Not mine in terms of possession, but in terms of heritage and culture. Not just Indian, but the world heritage and culture. Each of us would have enjoyed the beauty if it had not been razed.

Now, let us go back to the original concern.

Do you think that we have the moral right to detest the people who destroyed our heritage and culture?
Do you believe that we are any different?

We drive to shopping complexes that are not more than 200 meters from our homes. We drive to the park so that we can jog. Even, worse, we walk on tread mills that in turn run on electricity. We use tissue paper and paper napkins, because cotton kerchiefs are not fashionable! Car pooling is very cumbersome. Bigger cars portray our status better then smaller ones. You see, I can go on and on.

Hopefully, you understand the point that I am trying to make here.

Calvin is actually right. If you really delve on our behavior, you will realize that we are parasites. Not that there is anything wrong with that. Almost every living being can be described as paracitical to a certain extent in this context. But we humans are different.

While most other advanced creatures do not have any malignant predisposition towards Nature, we humans do. Why do I say this? Because we are destroying the very organism that we feed upon. The Earth!

Who would like to associate with such malevolent parasites?

What is even more despicable is that we are blissfully ignorant of the fact that we have no where else to go.

We always pass on the onus over to someone else. When people say "you", we think that they are talking about “The You” around us and we carry on with our sloppy behavior. We cook up a bunch of excuses to justify our extravagance.

A child born in the concrete jungle of Delhi can do very little about it. He can visit greener places but he can definitely not grow up like I did in the forests on Kohima. What about Kohima? There used to be a dense undergrowth right in front of my home when I was young. Now, there are houses there. Earlier, rains used to be welcome, because everything would shine with the rain drops. Now, rains mean muddy slush everywhere.

Remember, the future generations, like us, will not have a choice as far as inheritance of this world is concerned. They will have to take whatever we leave behind. However, we, like the past generations, can choose what legacy to leave behind. In the past, some choose to leave behind legacies like the Taj, while others choose to leave behind the legacy of the ruins of Mewar. I have chosen to leave behind a green legacy, what have you chosen?

The Great Divide

6 A.M., and the cheerful sound of chirruping sparrows replaces the verminous squealing on the rooftops of Dharavi, a slum in Mumbai*. Daylight seeps through a small window in Vinod’s rickety shack. It reveals a curly black head. Further inspection shows that this is attached to a man's sleeping body, perched on a slim metal ledge, 12 feet above the ground.

6 A.M. and all is quite in a bungalow close to Juhu Beach. The placid stillness is occasionally interrupted by the hum of the air conditioning unit. Natasha stirs in her bed. The maid hadn’t pulled the curtains close enough last night. Sunlight beamed right into her eyes and it made her uncomfortable. The maid will have to be warned about it.

On one side is a family of 12 living in a 90-square-foot room—about half the size of an American car-parking space. On the other, a slim lady occupies a master double bed in a 240- square-foot room. Night-sounds suggest that in the former case, the occupants include a man with a painful cough, a colicky baby and an amorous couple. While in the latter case! Well, the bed room had to be sound proof.

Soon after 6 A.M, in the metre-wide street outside Vinod's hutment, an ugly morning ritual begins. “It's my turn! My husband needs to get to work!” a woman shouts, in jostling over a water tap. In Shiva Shakti Nagar there is a tap for every ten houses, or roughly 100 people. “Push off! My kids are late for school!” another woman lashes back.

Natasha rings for her bed tea and asks the gym room to be prepared for her workout. She also informs the maid that she would like a warm bath before breakfast. She wanted apricot juice to wash down the English breakfast.

In Dharavi, water is gushing into blue plastic tanks and aluminium tubs, washing sticky breakfast dishes clean. It flows down the street in a rippling sheet. Bisecting it is an open drain, which gushes torrentially, flushing away the detritus of the previous day. From the stink of this, it includes a lot of human excrement—which tiny naked children, squatting with their backsides jutting over the torrent, are busy adding to.

Natasha tests the temperature of the water in the bath tub. It is just right. But wait, what is this! Hadn’t she categorically asked the maid not to leave the black towel for her? With a black towel, you can never tell if your hair is breaking off and needs attention. She rings for the maid and the black towel is immediately replaced by a white one. She asks the maid to dispose of all towels in colors other than white. That should take care of the problem.

At 7 A.M. the early shift begins in Dharavi's 15,000 hutment factories. Typically, they consist of one or two jerry-built storeys, stuffed with boys and men sewing cotton, melting plastic, hammering iron and moulding clay. Some leave with their cartloads of vegetables and other trinkets to spend a day in the hot and humid streets of Mumbai. They are all trying to ensure that they have something to eat when the sun sets.

Natasha has nothing much to do till 11 in the morning when she meets Nikki. It is nearly spring. Any delay in replenishing their wardrobe with the spring collections will leave them vulnerable to fashion jabs from the society. When it is time, she calls for her Mercedes S Class and heads out. At a traffic signal, she notices a grubby young boy wiping wind shields. He dabs at her car and waits for some coins. The signal turns green and Natasha’s car moves on.

Vinod’s nephew, Chotu, heads out on the road with his only shirt slung over his frail body. He has a couple of hours before his uncle will need him at his vegetable stall. He decides to make some money wiping cars on the busy cross section. He tries hard not to damage his only shirt while wiping wind shields. He hasn’t had much luck and decides to try one last time. However, the signal turns green as soon as he finishes. He notices the thin lady in the car and wonders what keeps her from eating!

This is probably represents how the two worlds usually meet.

The first important question to ask is which of these worlds is characteristic of India. India, of the past, always guaranteed the survival of the fittest. A majority of Indians have had little option but to be street smart to survive. Obviously, Dharavi portrays the majority.

The second important question to ask is, are we doing anything to help these people. How many have done atleast something to help them out? Be frank, be very frank. Let me put this question in a slightly different perspective. How many of us are not make it more and more difficult for these people? How many of us bother about how much we pay for basic commodities? Why do potatos cost 15 rupees a Kg here when in Varanasi, they are 2 rupees 50 paise per Kg? By our unwillingness to hassle, we are contributing to this turmoil. That we have disposable income does not mean that we make the lives of those who don’t, difficult.

“It is poverty to decide that a child must die so that you may live as you wish.”

* Parts of the description of Dharavi are taken from an article in Times.

Am I Right?

When was the last time you pondered over this question? Five minutes back, an hour ago or yesterday? We are in ethical and moral quandaries many times through our waking hours.

Is what I am about to do right?

Is what she doing right?

Is the policy that the government just approved right?

Or, even worse, we jump to our own conclusions:

George Bush was wrong in attacking Iraq.

The nuclear deal is good for India.

Sometimes these predicaments are trifling, while at other times they are all consuming.

So, what I am going to try to do here is come up with a couple of premises, exemplify them and then share with you, a few guidelines, I follow when faced with similar situations.

Let us start off with setting a very basic premise. It may seem very obvious but I am still going to put it out here anyway. Whatever I am going to say now pertains to people with sane and criminally disinclined minds. We cannot apply these discussions to murder convicts.

The second premise revolves around the outcome of the thought process in deciding between right and wrong. Whenever a group of people are given a situation and asked to come up with conclusions, we usually have many and, more importantly, conflicting answers.

So what is the relevance of these conflicts as far as the original question is concerned?

Often times, conflicts fool us into believing that at least one of the conflicting viewpoints is RIGTH. Whenever you are in the presence of such discussions, you are inclined to take a stance. “This is right and that is wrong.”

However, conflicts do not, in any way, prevent the conflicting perspectives from all being wrong at the same time. It is pretty intuitive if you give it a thought. I personally believe that this is much more common than the previous case.
But, what is more interesting is that, conflicts do not prevent the perceptions from all being right at the same time. We will come back to this.

So if conflicting points of view can all be right or wrong at the same time, what causes the conflicts? The answer lies in the question itself. Perspectives.

Let us try and understand this with the help of a few examples. For the contradictory and wrong perspectives, all you need to do is spend a few minutes on a busy traffic junction and you will get many examples.

So let us move on to the other case, conflicting perspectives, all right and let us take few factual example this time.

All of us would have had a chapter called Light in our Physics textbook. On one hand, we are told that light is an infinitesimally small particle of energy called photon. On the other hand, we are taught that light is a wave spread across infinite space. Contradictory? Yes. I wonder how many of us raised this question to our teachers. But both these perspectives are right because scientists have been conducting experiments that validate both. How this is possible is the subject of many theses on metaphysics, so let us not delve in it. Let us take another example from current affairs. Global warming. For many coastal regions it is a prophecy of disaster. But for countries like Canada and Russia it opens up so many economic prospects.

So now we have premises and examples. But what is it that I am trying to tell you here. I am not offering you an anodyne. I am going share a few thoughts about how we should approach the questions that pertain to right and wrong.

First and foremost:

“Do onto others as you as you would have them do to you.”

Next time put yourself at the other end and see if you still reach to the same conclusion. However, it is easier said than done. Let me give share the thoughts of a few wise men on the following three points:

We need to learn to-

1. Overcome biases

“The injury we do and the one we suffer are not weighed in the same scale.”

2. Think objectively

“Patriotism is a conviction that your country is superior to all other countries because you were born in it.”

3. Accept uncomfortable truths.

“You are not perfect and as prone to making mistakes as anybody else.”

And always remember:

“If you had been born where they were born, if you had been taught what they were taught and if you had been where they were, you would have believed what they believed.”