I've written briefly about radio in India as of today, and this is mainly my diatribe about what's happening with the third category of radio in India- Community Radio.
To get to the nub of the story straight away, its been one year (give or take a week) since the Government of India, declared that NGOs, colleges and Krishi Vigyan Kendras (and not communities!!!) can apply for community radio licenses.
Today not even one NGO is on air. About 30 colleges are on air today, but nobody knows what kind of programming they are doing, how much of the community they are involving, what kind of impact has it had and so on. There is no central or organizing force which makes this kind of information available.
So in the land of committees and sub-committees, how on Earth did we miss this one out? Of course we didn't!
Sometime in Jan 2007, a body calling itself Community Radio Forum (CRF) was formed, with some of the people who have been associated with community radio initiatives, being at the centre of things.
They would have campuses, NGOs, Krishi Vigyan Kendras as members (since the policy has forced them to share the roof). They would organize details about members, their programming, their impact, their policies, would take up their case in advocacy matters, at the time of application, in case they got in to trouble with the government, create awareness about the concept, facilitate better technology for community radio etc. A noble thought, and what's more, a noble action, the meeting I mean.
We have already seen how seriously the government has taken its own policy.
Now its going to be a year since the CRF was formed. Even today, the CRF has not registered itself. So there is no question of members. Some people who are interested, use the open mailing list cr-india@sarai.net.
My open challenge is to approach the communities anywhere in India, and see if they have heard about the CRF. My guess is that you would be able to count them on a single hand.
Many NGO's have got their application for radio rejected (despite them being rooted in the community) merely on grounds that they are based in conflict areas. Sadly, there is no organization to come to their defence.
NGOs or institutions new to this matter have no idea how to apply, or what equipment to buy or generally, what to do and when.
According to the laws of physics, there are more than 5 million community radio stations which can come up in India, and after a year, about 30 colleges is the best we can showcase to the world and to our people.
Today, the hype is over, people have gone back to their own jobs, and soon new policies will come and its going to be the same new circus all over again. I say with shame that the sheer potential of community radio in India (especially in India!) may never be realized, and we would have lost the opportunity of a lifetime to hand over the power of a medium like radio to the real people of India, who need it the most.
signing off- An ashamed member of the CRF
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
And the Dead Tree Gives No Shelter
A play by the same title was performed today by Parnab Mukerhjee, a development consultant and a creative mentor (don't ask me what that means!) at Koramangala.
The play stitches together three narratives, two of which are short stories by Mahasweta Devi, one of the more prolific short story writers and activists, based in West Bengal, India. The props used in the play were simple- A cloth with a Dali painting- The Persistence of Memory , a miniature face mask, some clips for drying clothes, a clothesline, some rope, black scotch tape, a chair and a bedsheet.
The play begins with the story of Yashodha, a tribal woman somewhere in Purulia, West Bengal, but place is insignificant as it resembles the tribal landscape anywhere else in India. The story is simple- the woman is young but her husband loses both legs in an accident, his employer is a lecherous fellow, and his employer's wife offers her money but she has to breastfeed her grandsons in return. She is a private fascist but just doesn't show it. Soon Yashoda starts breastfeeding other children in return for earning money. There is the conflict of why her identity should be reduced to her breasts only to earn some money but on the outward, she goes through the motions stoically. Soon, she learns that her husband has got property elsewhere and so he abandons her to start life anew with another woman. Her two daughters elope when the time is right. All three family members show disgust at being supported through the breastfeeding money (even though that was the sole means of support for them). Soon she dies from blood cancer.
The story is a front for reserving comment on the state of the Advasi in India, what is the extent to which they occupy the mindscape of ordinary people like you and me, what is the violent displacement they undergo and their miserable integration in to the urban life, by becoming servants, construction workers etc at the expense of state sponsored SEZ type projects.
The second story is that of Ram, who is a photographer who has attained fame by shooting Shurpanaki, an adivasi woman who was shot bare chested in all her innocence. This shot makes it to a calendar sold in New York and she becomes famous. Soon, the fame starts fading, and one day 12 members of the local Panchayat rape her precisely because of her fame. She confronts Ram (who is unaware of this incident) and he tries to placate her with some kind of compensation or rehabilitation, but she is way beyond such talk. She has totally lost all inkling of hope. Ultimately, Shurpanaki, who lives in a Shanty by the railway station in Mumbai, starts running towards the train, with Ram behind her. The newspaper states that two bodies have disappeared, in the next day's news.
The third story is Parnab's personal story, as a middle class failure, who in the days of successful role models, wants to become a model failure by committing suicide in full media glare. And so he invites the media people to cover his suicide, (by cutting himself with the free safety blades he got at an offer at a supermarket). He wants to die because he has no options left. He refers to researchers, academicians, fund loving NGOs, etc who all are a part of this hypocritical society who will watch and discuss and sympathise while the poor are systematically getting raped and murdered all over India.
All through the play, the emphasis was on the body itself. The body became the point of reference, and this was particularly thought provoking because today when everyone is talking about community, globalization and generally of a flat, uniform world; bringing the focus back on the body singles the individual, her feelings, her identity and brings the individual back into the picture. Perhaps this is a comment on how Adivasis are different from the rest of us, how they have always been neglected, been getting the raw end of the deal and how State attitudes and middle class attitudes in India don't really work for these Adivasi individuals whose stories are portrayed in this play. Ultimately, the play hits hard the point that all arts are either escapist or political, and maybe this is true of people on a larger level also, and Parnab provokes us into thinking whether we want to keep on living our lives with our aspirations and escape the realities around us or make a conscious decision to be political and actually have the courage to face the differences of this "socialist, democratic, secular and fairly well known republic called India"
The play does not assume to have any answers to the problem, and does not articulate any specific "social problems" either. All it does is tell some stories, largely unheard stories, and asks us to think about what we as individuals want to do about these stories.
All credit to Logos Theater and Parnab Mukherjee for bringing about this play, for the hard hitting lines and hopefully they will remain etched in memory long enough for us to wake up, sit and take notice.
The play stitches together three narratives, two of which are short stories by Mahasweta Devi, one of the more prolific short story writers and activists, based in West Bengal, India. The props used in the play were simple- A cloth with a Dali painting- The Persistence of Memory , a miniature face mask, some clips for drying clothes, a clothesline, some rope, black scotch tape, a chair and a bedsheet.
The play begins with the story of Yashodha, a tribal woman somewhere in Purulia, West Bengal, but place is insignificant as it resembles the tribal landscape anywhere else in India. The story is simple- the woman is young but her husband loses both legs in an accident, his employer is a lecherous fellow, and his employer's wife offers her money but she has to breastfeed her grandsons in return. She is a private fascist but just doesn't show it. Soon Yashoda starts breastfeeding other children in return for earning money. There is the conflict of why her identity should be reduced to her breasts only to earn some money but on the outward, she goes through the motions stoically. Soon, she learns that her husband has got property elsewhere and so he abandons her to start life anew with another woman. Her two daughters elope when the time is right. All three family members show disgust at being supported through the breastfeeding money (even though that was the sole means of support for them). Soon she dies from blood cancer.
The story is a front for reserving comment on the state of the Advasi in India, what is the extent to which they occupy the mindscape of ordinary people like you and me, what is the violent displacement they undergo and their miserable integration in to the urban life, by becoming servants, construction workers etc at the expense of state sponsored SEZ type projects.
The second story is that of Ram, who is a photographer who has attained fame by shooting Shurpanaki, an adivasi woman who was shot bare chested in all her innocence. This shot makes it to a calendar sold in New York and she becomes famous. Soon, the fame starts fading, and one day 12 members of the local Panchayat rape her precisely because of her fame. She confronts Ram (who is unaware of this incident) and he tries to placate her with some kind of compensation or rehabilitation, but she is way beyond such talk. She has totally lost all inkling of hope. Ultimately, Shurpanaki, who lives in a Shanty by the railway station in Mumbai, starts running towards the train, with Ram behind her. The newspaper states that two bodies have disappeared, in the next day's news.
The third story is Parnab's personal story, as a middle class failure, who in the days of successful role models, wants to become a model failure by committing suicide in full media glare. And so he invites the media people to cover his suicide, (by cutting himself with the free safety blades he got at an offer at a supermarket). He wants to die because he has no options left. He refers to researchers, academicians, fund loving NGOs, etc who all are a part of this hypocritical society who will watch and discuss and sympathise while the poor are systematically getting raped and murdered all over India.
All through the play, the emphasis was on the body itself. The body became the point of reference, and this was particularly thought provoking because today when everyone is talking about community, globalization and generally of a flat, uniform world; bringing the focus back on the body singles the individual, her feelings, her identity and brings the individual back into the picture. Perhaps this is a comment on how Adivasis are different from the rest of us, how they have always been neglected, been getting the raw end of the deal and how State attitudes and middle class attitudes in India don't really work for these Adivasi individuals whose stories are portrayed in this play. Ultimately, the play hits hard the point that all arts are either escapist or political, and maybe this is true of people on a larger level also, and Parnab provokes us into thinking whether we want to keep on living our lives with our aspirations and escape the realities around us or make a conscious decision to be political and actually have the courage to face the differences of this "socialist, democratic, secular and fairly well known republic called India"
The play does not assume to have any answers to the problem, and does not articulate any specific "social problems" either. All it does is tell some stories, largely unheard stories, and asks us to think about what we as individuals want to do about these stories.
All credit to Logos Theater and Parnab Mukherjee for bringing about this play, for the hard hitting lines and hopefully they will remain etched in memory long enough for us to wake up, sit and take notice.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Thought for Today-WTF
Hindus and Christians desperately trying to convert
Muslims desperate for survival
Buddhists getting stomped by generals
Jains pushed into obscurity
Sikhs fighting for identity
Today's the day
I remember Nietzsche
Leftwing genocide in Nandigram
Rightwing genocide in Gujarat
Ordinary people,
without any politics to hide behind,
thieving, killing and raping
The Congress is red taping
What government, what law and what order
What country and what border
Acually WTF
Muslims desperate for survival
Buddhists getting stomped by generals
Jains pushed into obscurity
Sikhs fighting for identity
Today's the day
I remember Nietzsche
Leftwing genocide in Nandigram
Rightwing genocide in Gujarat
Ordinary people,
without any politics to hide behind,
thieving, killing and raping
The Congress is red taping
What government, what law and what order
What country and what border
Acually WTF
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