The last twenty

I began my Republic Day by watching the new Mile Sur video on a news channel. Aptly titled ‘Phir Mile Sur’, it’s the same composition with the old underlying tune but suitably modified to reflect new trends in Indian music (multiplicity of instruments and fusion being prominent) as well the new faces on our Hindi movie scene. The makers could perhaps have attempted to reduce the Bollywood flavor of the video and introduced a more nuanced regional perspective (but certainly not S.Sreesanth, as one friend demanded on Facebook after seeing the video earlier on YouTube!). ‘Phir Mile Sur’, despite some tackiness quotient, is a decent reflection of how much India has changed over the last two decades. When the original was released, the year was 1989-90 and the nation was in a vortex of internal instability. A coalition government had just taken oath in New Delhi after the grand fall of Rajiv Gandhi’s super majority. Kashmir was beginning to simmer and Punjab had been festering for almost a decade. Then there were the recurring disputes of the Northeast and on top of all this was the Mandal genie released by VP Singh in the autumn of 1990 leading to self-immolations, massive protests and civil unrest in Delhi (I remember my school being closed for a few days when the situation had gotten seriously tense). For someone who would sit alongside his father and watch the state drafted news bulletin every night on gloomy Doordarshan, the words ‘Khalistan’, ‘Militancy’, ‘Encounter’, ‘Unity and Integrity’ (a favorite of the Prime Ministers of those days), ‘Tarn Taran’ (Punjab’s most violent district) and ‘Curfew’ very quickly became a part of the lexicon. And I did not even have to run to a dictionary to understand what they meant. The context of those days provided all the meaning. In the backdrop of all this and the economic uncertainty that followed a year later along with Rajiv Gandhi’s bloody assassination, India needed a ‘Mile Sur’ to make some attempt, howsoever feeble, to remind us of the clichéd ‘Unity in Diversity’ model of our political sustenance.

Two decades later, the uncertainties have changed with one critical difference. Most of them are external and not internal. The language of ‘Unity and Integrity’ has now been replaced by that of ‘Development and Growth’. The old distant terrorism that urban India knew of only through DD’s daily news is now a phenomenon that we have recognized as a daily classless danger to be lived with and confronted. Our internal contradictions of the 80s, like old skin, have been shed and our new fault lines will be a friction of ideas centering on how growing aspirations in a rising economy should be catered. Separate smaller states will be demanded, not only because they promise a symbol of identity, but because they hold the promise of overturning the economic neglect and offer opportunities for ‘sharing of riches’. The gun toting Naxal may be wiped out but discontent in rural India will not be unless we achieve a greater allocation of benefits and decide on how best to acquire land equitably. In that sense, perhaps India still needs a ‘Phir Mile Sur’ not to remind us that we share one political legacy of unity but perhaps to hold out the assertion that as the efforts of that legacy begin to bear economic fruit in the coming decades, we all are entitled to our legitimate slices of the pie.

So how much have we really changed in the two decades after that depressing autumn of 1990? I was recently watching a YouTube clip containing highlights of the games from the Hero Cup held in the winter of 1993. It’s an event cricket historians seem to have forgotten. It still remains the last time India won a five team one-day international tournament. It was also the first time that the BCCI sold television rights to a satellite TV channel (Star) instead of Doordarshan leading to litigation at one end and cricket’s TV boom at the other. On the clip I saw, the boundary hoardings consisted of the following prominent brands – Hero Puch, Modiluft, Peerless, Directors Special, Vimal, Kelvinator, Coramandel Cement, Yamaha and Pennzoil. That covers a decent number of sectors of the industry in terms of representation. Notice the one that it doesn’t – Telecom; because telecom would only be deregulated towards the end of the 90s and would go on to change lives in a remarkably similar way as the diminutive little Maruti 800 did. Notice another omission –no cola companies in the above list. While Pepsi came back into the Indian market around 1990, Coke wouldn’t come till 1993-94 and the real advertising war between the two giants for the large Indian middle class purse would begin only mid-90s onwards with star power being recruited and campaigns often turning nasty.

The cricket example above though, is only symbolic. Just as telecom is virtually a separate sector of the economy today in terms of the sheer impact it has on lives, the economic reforms of 1991 have perhaps singly overtaken any other event in defining the India of the last two decades. The reforms opened opportunities, mostly in the urban centers, brought global brands to India, gave a fillip to the economy and enlarged our wallets. Larger wallets in turn meant that the world started looking at us as a mass of people with an economic aspiration to spend and a social aspiration to climb. It is no wonder that every significant consumer as well enterprise product and service company is present in India today enamored by a market that promises top line growth of double digits which is no longer possible in a saturated market back home in the US or Europe. Good or bad, the one basic outcome of the reforms was that money was no longer a bad word. Consumption was suddenly an aspiration and not a moral sin. The political empowerment of India with the coming out of multiple political parties in the 1990s would be accompanied by an economic empowerment that would in some way, though perhaps not entirely and effectively, permeate every section of society. We only have to look at ourselves to realize the extent of the shift.

In 1991, my father’s office still had round dial telephones and there was no aspiration in my family to own a similar one at home. My father drove a white Premier Padmini (Fiat as we knew it then) that perhaps had the most awkward gearbox ever seen in a car on Indian roads. Computers and software were something you didn’t even read about in the newspapers let alone see one in your school or own one at home. TV still meant Doordarshan which would close its telecast between 11am to 2pm and 3.30pm to 7pm every day unless there was a cricket match on. Vacations anywhere in excess of 500kms meant budgeting a total of 4 days for to and fro travel by train. There were no brands of denim jeans. The only shoes you could wear were Bata, Liberty or Action. The only toothpaste you would use was a Colgate and the only soap you would use was a Hamam. The only fast food outlet in Delhi was Nirulas, the only rum my grandfather could drink was the army canteen issued Old Monk (a favorite passed on through generations) and the only decent whiskey available to him was Red Knight made by Mohan Meakin in Solan. Need I say more!

I sometimes wonder if we ourselves have grasped the impact of the last two decades. Time is never a constant and every decade or so, some nostalgic blogger like me would reflect on the years gone by and how life has changed. Every generation feels it has passed through the most impactful change. As children of the economic liberalization of this country, my generation can at least claim to have witnessed the transition first hand. How impactful it would turn to out to be for the longer destiny of India is something that as always, history and posterity can dwell upon at leisure.

P.S. – The Indian Express this morning carried a beautiful five page feature on landmark judicial cases and the personalities behind them that influenced both the working and the interpretation of the Indian Constitution. Stretching across the 60 years of the document’s existence, it highlighted the men and women, jurists and lawyers who sought to enforce the tenets of our governing document in our day to day lives. Express began the series with a case that it called the most important ever in the history of Indian constitutional law. In early 1973, a 13 member bench of the Supreme Court (the largest ever gathering of justices summoned to debate a judicial matter in the country’s history till date) decided by a wafer thin majority of 7-6 against the State and in favor of a temple priest. The judgment was historic in that it placed the Constitution above the Parliament and entailed that there was a certain ‘basic structure’ of the Constitution that Parliament could not alter even with an amendment. This basic structure included among other things the fundamental rights of life, liberty and equality. In the coming three decades, the Courts would use this principle to drive the primacy of fundamental rights (most recently in the Sec 377 case last year where the right to equality was sighted) and uphold the rights of the ordinary citizen against the high-handedness of the executive. That single judgment made the difference between the Indian Constitution being a living, thriving document impacting the lives of its citizens or being a set of rules of a banana diplomacy that a despotic government could change at will and a compliant judiciary would endlessly blink over.

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