Saturday, July 27, 2013

Fwd: Nirmala Sitharaman - Tamara Elai Thanni



---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: sri venkat
Date: Sat, Jul 27, 2013 at 7:15 AM
Subject: Nirmala Sitharaman - Tamara Elai Thanni
To:


Like water on a lotus leaf'
Chitra Narayanan
T.C.A. Srinivasa Raghavan

http://www.thehindubusinessline.com/opinion/like-water-on-a-lotus-leaf/article2085256.ece.

A Tamilian in a 'Hindi' party, Ms Nirmala Sitharaman has evoked a lot
of curiosity. But this political novice has held her own in TV debates
against veterans.

What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like that? We ask Ms
Nirmala Sitharaman, the BJP spokesperson, who often manages the
impossible feat of smiling sweetly at TV anchors who annoy her. We get
a short, sharp lecture on the virtues of the BJP - or what her friends
in Tamil Nadu call the 'Hindi' party. The gist of it is that hers is
perhaps the only truly democratic party, where open discussions are
encouraged.

We are at lunch at the Govinda, the restaurant at the Iskcon temple in
east of Kailash in Delhi.

The multi-storeyed temple, which boasts a robot that recites the
Bhagwad Gita, gets a crowd of Krishna devotees, Indian and foreign.
The bakery and air-conditioned restaurant at the complex get a crowd
of food lovers

The Director of Govinda, Mr V. K. Parashar, joins us. Although the
restaurant serves breakfast, lunch, evening tea and dinner ((no onion,
no garlic), it's the sumptuous buffet meals with a mix of Chinese,
continental and Indian dishes priced at Rs 350 that is the crowd
puller. "We sell 5 lakh thalis a month," he says. On Sundays, there is
chhappan bhog (56 items on the menu).

Ms Sitharaman looks slightly stunned by the array of drinks — from aam
panna to jal jeera and buttermilk and the beautifully-presented
starters such as cucumber rings with paneer delicately placed in the
hole in the middle, mini potato cutlets, and a beautifully decorated
fruit platter.

"This, I suppose, has been prepared in the Pushtimargi style, with
seva bhava?" she asks Mr Parashar.

"Yes, when you do something for the Lord, you must do it with devotion
and our food promotes spiritual advancement," he says.

Frozen Tamil
We are curious about Ms Sitharaman's upbringing. "My mother's mother
side is from Thiruvangad. My mother's father's family comes from a
village near Salem. My maternal grandfather is essentially from
Musiri, which is along the bank of the Cauvery. But he finally settled
down in Madurai. So all these places have live contact for me," she
says.

Her father was in the Railways in a transferable job. So after Class 5
she and her sister were sent to their periamma's house in Chennai.
This lasted for three years. "That was my only exposure to Chennai
education," she says.

After that her parents decided the family should stay put in Trichy
and she did the rest of her schooling, including her B.A. there. She
left Tamil Nadu for JNU in 1980 where she did M.A. in Economics After
that she was married into an Andhra family, so never went back to
Tamil Nadu.

"My Tamil is frozen in time. Every time I visit Chennai, I am teased
that I don't know the current slang," she says.

But she is proud that she can hold her own in "Medai Tamil" – the
highly literary political lingo. Politicians are expected to speak
like poets in Tamil Nadu, she tells us, and many poets become
politicians.

"Only Ms Jayaalalitha can get away with speaking colloquial Tamil," we
murmur sotto voce.

After M.A., she wrote her Ph.D thesis on the India-Europe textile
trade but though she submitted the dissertation, she never appeared
for the viva. "By then I had moved to London with my husband
Prabhakar," she says ruefully, nibbling at the soya lolly dish - this
is a curry dish in which soya wrapped around an ice cream stick is
dunked. Govinda has some experimental offerings – we notice an aloo
halwa and fruit ki sabzi on the menu.

In London, she started off working at a well-known store called
Habitat before moving on to the research division of the
PriceWaterhouse Coopers where within a short span she grew to head the
competition unit. It was an exciting time. "East Europe was beginning
to wriggle out of the Soviet grip. It was the time of perestroika and
glasnost and every Western firm was looking for business opportunities
there," she says.

But then the baby came along and in 1991 she and her husband moved
back to India — straight into the fiery heat of Andhra. "When we came
in April to Narasapuram very close to where the Godavari meets the
sea, it was already 40 degrees," she says. The decision was taken to
have the baby in Chennai.

That happened three days before Rajiv Gandhi was assassinated. "I
couldn't get out of hospital". Finally, after three days, she had to
be taken out in the doctor's car flying white flags.

The next 20 years were spent in the think-tank she and her husband set
up in Hyderabad. "We were doing all sorts of work," she says. She also
was also appointed as an apolitical member (she was the youngest) of
the National Commission for Women, where she interacted closely with
Ms Sushma Swaraj.

Saffron by elimination
The BJP, we ask? Especially, when you are married into a Congress
family? "I don't know whether it was through the elimination process
in my mind," she says. "I was certainly not inclined to the Left. She
did not get into the Congress for the same reason, she says.

Perhaps the BJP connect happened through the NCW work.

At this moment, Mr Parashar asks: "On television, how does it feel
having to defend the indefensible?"

She is quick to retort. "I am not sure it is right to label anything
as defensible or indefensible. There are many dimensions to an issue.
It is not for me to see and judge. I cannot look at it from my myopic
view only."

"Once a line is taken by the party, I am expected to stick to it. But
that doesn't mean that I am a mere mouthing machine. I apply my mind,"
she says.

The mornings are spent scanning the papers. At some point in the day,
a party line is worked out and after that everyone has to bowl to the
field.

But if she really does not believe it, isn't it stressful, we ask. "I
don't want to involve myself too much in every decision emotionally,"
she says.

Where does she see herself in the BJP, we ask. Tamara Elai Thanni, she
says evocatively in Tamil. "I am like the drop of water on the lotus
leaf," she says.

Krishna, Krishna
As the dessert — kheer and malpua — arrive, Ms Sitharaman volunteers
suddenly, "Sitting here is so appropriate. I have been doing a study
on Krishna worship in India in temples where Krishna is named as
Krishna in the moolasthana. There is enough evidence to show that in
these temples the puja padhathi is not derived from the agamashastras
or Vedic narration only. In fact, they have all picked up on verses
derived during the Bhakti movement." We nod knowledgeably.

She points out how in the east coast, Krishna has become Balaji,
Jagannatha and so on, whereas on the west coast, right from Dwaraka,
Vittala or further down to Udupi or Guruvayur, they have all been
following a worship pattern that is written by Krishna bhaktas — songs
written by the local devotees.

Of the people, by the people, for the people, we suggest. But there
hasn't been much time to study Krishna worship traditions recently.

(This article was published on June 8, 2011)



--
sent from samsung galaxy note, so please excuse brevity

No comments: