August 14, 2013

A Nation That's Both Myth and Fact

By MANU JOSEPH

NEW DELHI In the biggest Hindi film of the season, a gorgeous girl in what North Indians take to be South Indian attire runs in slow motion along a station platform chasing a moving train, something every Indian recognizes as a romantic scene. And a moment with happy prospects, too, for the beautiful girl, because Indian trains do not have automatic doors. The hero is in the doorway of a coach, and he extends his hand to help this stranger in. Shahrukh Khan, one of Indias most bankable actors, has been of assistance in this manner to another girl in another film. Soon, a menacing man is sprinting down the platform, and Mr. Khan helps him into the train, too. Then, there is another burly man, and one more, whom the perplexed protagonist pulls in turn into the compartment. It soon becomes clear that the girl, played by Deepika Padukone, was fleeing from those very goons, who hold her and the hero captive in the train as it heads into the deep south from Mumbai in western India, a place South Indians consider the North. Chennai Express is a clownish Hindi film that attempts to derive its humor from how foreign and quaint the South appears to the North and, inevitably, from the clash of two major languages Hindi, which is not, as widely believed, Indias national language, because India does not have a national language, and Tamil, which is chiefly spoken in the southern state of Tamil Nadu and a few other countries. The disaster film 2012 features an Indian scientist who speaks in a language that Hollywood wants the world to believe is Hindi, but in reality is a language that does not exist on the face of the Earth. In another disaster film, Armageddon, hundreds of Hindus squat in front of the Taj Mahal and pray, something that they would never do even if the world were about to end, especially if the world were about to end, probably because the Taj Mahal is a Muslim mausoleum. Hindi films have historically shown a similar disregard for simple facts while portraying South India. The gorgeous girl in Chennai Express does speak reasonably good Tamil most of the time, which is rare in Hindi films, but the dangerous villain, supposedly a Tamil thug, speaks Tamil with an unprecedented accent, as if he had suffered a severe head injury. Tamils have reacted to the film with emotions ranging from bemused pardon to rage, but the

very substance of Chennai Express is unmistakable the North and the South of India are foreign places to each other. And they can be fragmented into even smaller fractions of alien cultures that have nothing much in common. India, the monolithic nation, is at once a myth and a fact. It is common for Indian intellectuals, who have the time for such exercises, to wonder what unites India. Cricket, democracy and even Hindi films are often cited as the glues. Yet, what really unites India is, very simply, its habit of being India. India is the proof that a nation needs to have nothing in common to remain a nation. In fact, increasingly, the very idea of national is losing its heft. There are no national political figures anymore; provincial leaders, issues and interests are resurgent; and Delhi as a center of power and culture has been, while not destroyed, greatly diminished. Yet, India is more assured than ever that it is, in fact, India. The South, which has prospered more than the North in the last two decades, is distinct from what it regards as the North in ways more complex than what meet the eye beyond the vivid colors, homes, temples and geography and the fact, which is not in plain sight of course, that there is more rice than wheat in the bellies of its people. Its urban affluent are far less extravagant than the rich of Delhi or Mumbai. Its weddings are more subdued than the festivities of the North. Its political corruption is believed to be far less sophisticated, and its real estate prices rise more slowly than in the North. The mainstream national discourse, which is laid down by Delhis news media, is not always relevant to the South. The Kashmir Valley, and even Pakistan, do not interest the South as much as Delhis editors often presume unless there has been an extraordinary news development. And the issues that bring the southern states to a boil usually do not become

what is regarded as national news unless some players directly affect the peace of Delhis MORE IN ASIA PA

politicians. Also, the capitals news anchors, who can competently pronounce Franois An Afghan Hollande, struggle to pronounce the names of southern politicians for instance, Kanimozhi. and Hard W On the basis of broadcast data, anyone who can pronounce her name is in all probability a South Read More Indian. There is a scene in Chennai Express when the hero encounters the girls father, who is a powerful don. The don speaks in Tamil. The hero does not understand what he is saying. He says to the girl, in English, Subtitles please. All through this film, which is about the mutual incomprehension of the North and the South, basic English is a ceaseless bond between the characters. The North and South are united after all, by a powerful and very useful medium whose time as a foreign language in India is long over. Yet, the political and cultural leaders of the North and the South are united in denying this

simple truth. Manu Joseph is editor of the Indian newsweekly Open and author of the novel The Illicit Happiness of Other People.