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Quite
a few Indians who were in the foreign or administrative
services (IFS and IAS) have made their mark in politics. They
gained the necessary experience of the administration and a
‘yes minister’ attitude towards their bosses before they
took the plunge. A few names come to mind immediately. Syed
Shahabuddin (IFS) quit the service and became Member of
Parliament, and now edits Milli Gazette to highlight problems
facing Indian Muslims. Mani Shankar Aiyar quit the foreign
service, was twice elected to the Lok Sabha and is now a
Minister of Cabinet. Yashwant Sinha quit the administrative
service, was elected to the Lok Sabha and became a minister in
Vajpayee’s BJP-led government.
Above
all, self-styled Kanwar (Prince) Natwar Singh (IFS) was twice
elected to the Lok Sabha, was Foreign Minister in the
Congress-led government till his name was embroiled in a
financial scandal. He ditched his old party and joined the BJP.
He then ditched the BJP to join Mayawati’s BSP, from which
he was recently kicked out. However, there were others in
these coveted services who opted out of them to pursue
vocations they wanted. One of them is Ajay Singh Yadav, who
left the IAS in 1998, and gave reasons why he did so in his
autobiography Why I am Not a Civil Servant. He lives in Bhopal
enjoying writing books. His latest is Forty Four Poems
(Lighthouse Books). They make good reading. I picked up a few
verses from one which deals with the transition of a babu to a
neta:
Socialism
is my party’s official creed;
An
old omnibus in which all sorts can ride;
Former
commissars and RSS men;
All
sitting amicably, side by side;
Actually,
it does not matter what you believe;
The
important thing is what you profess;
Socialism
is rather chic;
And
goes down well with the English language press; Ideological
purity, in any case;
Has
now gone rather out of date;
Who
can afford the luxury of principles;
When
he has to win the people’s mandate;
In
politics what counts is management;
That’s
a game in which I am rather skilled;
Who
remembers how much power you generate;
Or
how many roads you build;
What
counts is promise, not performance;
In
my book that’s a rule of thumb;
You
may think I am being clever;
But
I would rather be clever than dumb.
Most
readable
of
2008
It
has been the best year for books written in English by Indian
and Pakistani authors that I can recall. That applies to both
fiction and non-fiction. On an average I read around 40 books
every year. I note down their titles and authors’ names in
the end of the last two pages of my diary and put a star
against those that impressed me. I found I had awarded star
status to more books than I had in the past years.
Some
fiction was memorable. There was Amitav Ghosh’s Sea of
Poppies (Penguin-Viking), his best work so far. I think it
should have won the Booker Award. Instead, it went to Aravind
Adiga’s The White Tiger (Harper Collins). It is highly
readable but leaves a bad taste in the mouth because it had
only nasty things to say about India redeemed by clean prose,
satire and humour. I preferred his collection of short stories
Between the Assassinations (Picador). With a bit of luck and
hard work, he should be able to dominate the Indian literary
scene for some time. Another Indian who has earned a name and
fame for herself by winning the Pultizer Prize for her
Interpreter of Maladies is Jhumpa Lahiri, living in New Delhi.
Her latest collection Unaccustomed Earth (Random House),
though on the same theme of emigre Bengali bhadralog in the US
seeking out each other, has a remarkably good first story. Let
us hope she widens her range of subjects.
Pakistani
fiction writers have turned to Indian publishers as they have
none worth their while in their own country. A remarkably good
first novel was Moni Mohsina’s The End of Innocence
(Penguin-Viking) based in a country estate owned by her
parents near Lahore. Another readable novel—half-fiction,
half facts—was Mohammed Hanif’s A Case of Exploding
Mangoes (Random House) based on the assassination of General
Zia-ul-Haq. Equally readable was Twilight by Azhar Abidi
(Penguin-Viking) on the disillusionment of well-to-do Indian
Muslim families which migrated to Karachi hoping to create a
modern Muslim society losing out to mullah-bigotry.
My
list of non-fiction is entirely Indian. First came Goodbye
Shahzadi (Roli) on the life and assassination of Benazir
Bhutto by Shyam Bhatia. Soon after appeared Behenji (Penguin)
on Mayawati by Ajoy Bose, followed by Navtej Sarna’s The
Exile (Penguin-Viking) on the life of the last Sikh Maharaja
Dalip Singh, and Ajit Bhattacherjea’s Sheikh Mohammed
Abdullah: Tragic Hero of Kashmir (Roli).
I
found all of them informative and absorbing. There were also a
couple of books which I enjoyed but which didn’t fall in
these above-mentioned categories. These included Wild City:
Nature Wonders Next Door by Ranjit Lal (Penguin) and Good
Night & Gold Bless (Penguin) by Anita Nair.
At
the end, I must add some words of caution. I am no longer able
to visit book stores, browse over their shelves and buy what I
fancy or heard praised. My reading is restricted to what
publishers and authors send me, hoping I will say something
about them in my columns. I do the best I can.
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