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Discover Roots of Christianity in India with Siddhartha Sarma’s, “Carpenters and Kings”

Two hundred years before the advent of Vasco da Gama, Western Christianity-which comprises the Catholic Church, the Anglican Communion and Protestant denominations today-had already arrived in India, finding among its diverse people and faiths the Church of the East already at home since the beginning of Christianity.

Carpenters and Kings by Siddartha Sarma is an account of how global events, including the Crusades and the Mongol conquests, came together to bring Western Christianity to India.

A gripping narrative of two diagonally opposite impulses in Christianity: of humble scholars trying to live the Christian ideal, and of ambitious ecclesiastical empire-builders with more earthly goals.

Here’s what Siddartha has to say about his research methodology for the book:


The germ of the idea for Carpenters and Kings came many years ago when I was writing my thesis for a pre-doctorate in war studies at the University of Glasgow. I specialized in the Later Crusades, which is a fairly new discipline in medieval history and is seeing a lot of exciting new research in the West. My thesis was a comparative study of three crusade proposals, which were strategy manuals by scholars in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries on how to recover the Holy Land which had been retaken by Muslim armies previously. One of the proposals was by William of Adam, a Dominican who would become Archbishop of Sultanieh in Persia. William wanted to launch a crusade from India and was the only such writer to make such a plan centred on the subcontinent. My supervisor suggested that it would be a good idea if we referred, for context, to a comprehensive secondary source on pre-colonial European scholarly engagement with India, to explain what William and others like him were doing in the subcontinent. We discovered that there was no such work. My supervisor found that strange and said it was a large gap in scholarship.

One reason for this gap is the history of Christianity in India is not studied much by Indians themselves. The other reason is Western scholarship has engaged with colonialism and with the Mughal Empire, but not with Europe’s idea of India in the pre-colonial period to the extent needed.

In December 2017, I realized I had completed research for such a book, and began writing it in January 2018.

The book is divided into three sections: Antiquity, the Middle Ages and the colonial period. The history of Christianity in the third period is far better documented than in the first two, so I have engaged only with a few specific aspects of it for the book.

Carpenters and Kings covers two millennia of people and events across three continents. Research for this took nine years. I resolved, when I began writing it, to base it as much on primary sources as possible, with secondary sources to be used only for context where absolutely required. In the process I examined forty-six manuscripts and primary sources connected to the history of Christianity in general and Western Christianity in particular in the subcontinent. Ideally, anybody attempting to parse these primary sources should have access to and fluency in ten or eleven source languages, including Latin, Greek, Syriac, Arabic, Persian, Pahlavi, Mongolian, Mandarin, French, German and Danish. Here I had to make an allowance for my limited or nonexistent knowledge of most of these languages.

In the section on Antiquity, I examined the writings of pre-Christian writers like Herodotus and Strabo and early Christian scholars including Eusebius of Caesaraea. While the former two wrote about pre-Christian Roman and Greek engagement with India, Eusebius examined the tradition of the apostle Thomas preaching in India.

The legend of the Indian Christian martyrs, Barlaam and Josaphat, based on the life of Buddha, existed in several languages in the Middle Ages and has since been translated into all the major languages of the world. I examined English translations of the legend and compared them with translations from other languages, such as the Balavariam in Georgian. My Greek is not up to the rigorous standards required for academic research, so I relied on translations of Greek works where necessary, such as with Herodotus, or the writings of the Greco-Egyptian polymath Ptolemy, and, particularly, The Christian Topography of the Egyptian Christian monk Cosmas, who travelled to India and found a thriving Christian community in the sixth century. This section also includes an explanation of the beginning of various schisms within Christianity, arising from several councils held in the Roman Empire in the closing centuries of Antiquity. I referred to primary sources in Latin and English secondary sources for this.

Research for the section on the Middle Ages was considerably easier. Excellent secondary sources exist for the Crusades, to which I referred, in addition to some primary manuscripts. The book also made it necessary to engage with the history of the Mongol Empire, for which I referred to Urgunge Onon’s wonderful English translation of The Secret History of the Mongols, in addition to translated Arabic and Persian sources, as well as Latin manuscripts on European diplomatic exchanges with the Mongol Great Khans and the Ilkhanate of Persia.

The core of the book is the accounts of European scholars and monks who travelled to and lived in India in the Middle Ages, between 1291 and 1336. Several of these writers, including William of Adam, are now obscure. English translations of some of these manuscripts exist, but they date so far back in the nineteenth century that the English itself needs explanatory notes. I undertook to translate these texts, providing context where necessary, correcting what I felt were errors by British colonial-era translators, or where subsequent research in the intervening 150 years has shed more light on events in the Middle Ages. Research for this section took me approximately four years to complete.

There are three chapters in the section on the colonial period, each dealing with the Portuguese, the Danes and the British respectively. For the section on the Portuguese and the legacy of the Goa Inquisition, I referred to secondary works by Indian scholars, while for the section on the papal bulls, which led to the legitimization of Portuguese excesses in India, I referred to the original manuscripts in Latin. For the chapter on the Danes at Tranquebar, in what is now Tamil Nadu, I referred to English translations of writings by Danish and German Lutheran chroniclers of the Tranquebar mission and the history of the Danish East India Company in India.

My area of specialization and the focus of the book is the Middle Ages, so I had to exercise considerable caution in studying and analysing sources for Antiquity and the colonial period, in order to draw causal connections between events spanning these periods and the extensive geography of this story.

Apart from reading and analysing these texts, I had to spend a considerable amount of time trying to understand the characters of this story, big and small, the humble carpenters and great kings, their mindsets and motivations, their thoughts and actions, which is always a rewarding exercise for a historian or researcher. I hope that my attempt at piecing this fascinating story together from the writings of these scholars and historians down the centuries has worked. I am grateful to the writings of these people and the quality of their minds. We stand on their shoulders.


Get your copy of Carpenters and Kings today!

The Making of the Indian Muslim Civilization

Today roughly 500 million Muslims inhabit South Asia, although the process of Islamization began in the eighth century, the region developed a distinct Indo-Islamic civilization that culminated in the Mughal Empire. In the Gulf, while paying lip service to the power centres, including Mecca and Medina, this civilization cultivated its own variety of Islam, which was based on Sufism.
‘The Islamic Connection’ gathers together some of the best specialists on the pan-Islamic ties and explores  ideological, educational and spiritual networks, which have gained momentum due to political strategies, migration flows and increased communications.
 
Revisiting the old notion of ‘acculturation’ from the point of view of the ‘connected history’ school of thought,5 Sanjay Subrahmanyam argues that when civilizations meet, ‘Time and again, then, we are forced to come to terms with a situation that is not one of mutual indifference, or of a turning of backs, or of a deep-rooted incomprehension, but of shifting vocabularies, and changes that are wrought over time by improvisations that eventually come to be part of a received tradition.’ In South Asia, Muslims have invented their own ‘brand’ of Islam soon after their arrival in the region, following their encounter with the dominant civilization, Hinduism.
Certainly, the Caliphate played a role in the initial conquest of South Asian territories by Arabs in the eighth century. It was the Khalifah al-Walid b. ‘Abdul Malik who, hearing that Arab traders had been captured by the ruler of Sind, asked the governor of Baghdad to send an army to liberate them in 711. The soldiers of Muhammad b. Qasim did more than that and conquered the whole of Sind. The social structure of the Muslims of South Asia, who became dominant in spite of their remaining a minority, reflects their attachment to the Arabian peninsula: the upper strata was made of those (the Syed) who claimed that they descended from the Prophet. Another source of prestige came from the accomplishment of the Mecca pilgrimage (the Hajj), the title ‘Hajji’ being affixed to the name of those who had done it.
However, the Muslims who brought Islam to South Asia in a sustainable manner were not those who used the sword to conquer the region and/or who looked back, but the Sufis who made India a sacred land for Muslims, as mentioned in the introduction of this volume, after the establishment of khanqahs (buildings designed for the gathering of Sufis saints’ disciples) and dargahs (tombs of saints) which became major pilgrimage centres.
Not only did Muslims of medieval India distance themselves from the holy cities of Arabia and develop sacred sites across ‘their’ land, they also initiated spiritual relations with the Hindus. While orthodox scholars developed forms of Islamic proselytization in order to convert these ‘infidels’ (kafirs), some Sufis and several Muslim rulers promoted a very substantial spiritual dialogue with Hindus. The encounter of Sufis and Yogis resulted in rich spiritual exchanges.For making possible this dialogue, which reached its culminating point during the Mughal Empire under Akbar, spiritual treaties were translated from Sanskrit to Persian and Arabic. Besides, after 1579, Akbar appeared as a competitor for the Caliph himself as suggested by Sanjay Subrahmanyam:
In early September 1579, a group of theologians, including the Shaikh ul-Islam, were pressurized into signing a text claiming for Akbar a special status of Padshah-i Islam, beyond that even of a Sultan-i Adil. […] one of the epithets used for him was now Mujtahid, as also Imam-i Adil, the latter startlingly close to the usages favoured at one time by Süleyman. Indeed, the challenges was directed in good measures at the Ottomans, who had claimed superior status as the Khalifas of the east, with their conquest of Egypt.
These words and the spiritual innovations of Akbar reflected the great autonomy of the Indo-Islamic civilization vis-à-vis West Asia, including the holy cities of the Arabian peninsula and Istanbul, the seat of the Caliphate. But the fact that Akbar claimed that he was a kind of Caliph also shows that the Indian Muslims were deeply attached to the idea of the Caliphate, that they somewhat tried to replicate. And when the Mughal Empire started to wane, the attitude of the Muslim Indians towards the Ottomans changed.
Local Muslim rulers threatened by the Europeans turned to the Ottoman Sultan for help and recognition in the eighteenth century, including those of the Malabar coast and Tipu Sultan, the warlord of southern India who put up the most successful resistance to the British. Tipu Sultan sent an ambassador to Constantinople in 1785 requesting that he bring back a letter of investiture from the Ottoman Sultan and military support. He got the former, but not the latter. The declining Mughal dynasty also turned towards the Ottoman Sultan. In fact, the less power the dynasty retained, the more Indian Muslims turned to the Caliph as their protector. In the first half of the nineteenth century, ‘the name of the Ottoman sultan definitely came to be mentioned in the Friday khutba in some Indian mosques.’ Gradually, Indian ulama recognized the Ottoman sultans as the holder of the universal caliphate. This trend reached its logical conclusion after the last Mughal Emperor, Bahadur Shah II (1775–1862) was deposed and exiled to Rangoon in the wake of the 1857 Mutiny which marked the final phase of the Mughal decline.
Find this book: The Islamic Connection: South Asia and the Gulf

Prologue: 'Origin' by Dan Brown

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Dan Brown is back with yet another novel in ‘ The Robert Langdon Series’ after Angels & Demons (2000), The Da Vinci Code (2003), The Lost Symbol (2009), and Inferno (2013).
‘Origin’, which is the 5th installment in Robert Langdon’s adventures, is based on Langdon’s travels in Spain.  It moves forth with the same paradoxical power play between Religion and Science.
Let’s read more to find out what happens next in the first of our three excerpts from ‘Origin’
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Prologue
As the ancient cogwheel train clawed its way up the dizzying incline, Edmond Kirsch surveyed the jagged mountaintop above him. In the distance, built into the face of a sheer cliff, the massive stone monastery seemed to hang in space, as if magically fused to the vertical precipice.
This timeless sanctuary in Catalonia, Spain, had endured the relentless pull of gravity for more than four centuries, never slipping from its original purpose: to insulate its occupants from the modern world.
Ironically, they will now be the first to learn the truth, Kirsch thought, wondering how they would react. Historically, the most dangerous men on earth were men of God . . . especially when their gods became threatened. And I am about to hurl a flaming spear into a hornets’ nest.
When the train reached the mountaintop, Kirsch saw a solitary figure waiting for him on the platform. The wizened skeleton of a man was draped in the traditional Catholic purple cassock and white rochet, with a zucchetto on his head. Kirsch recognized his host’s rawboned features from photos and felt an unexpected surge of adrenaline.
Valdespino is greeting me personally.
Bishop Antonio Valdespino was a formidable figure in Spain—not only a trusted friend and counselor to the king himself, but one of the country’s most vocal and influential advocates for the preservation of conservative Catholic values and traditional political standards.
“Edmond Kirsch, I assume?” the bishop intoned as Kirsch exited the train.
“Guilty as charged,” Kirsch said, smiling as he reached out to shake his host’s bony hand. “Bishop Valdespino, I want to thank you for arranging this meeting.”
“I appreciate your requesting it.” The bishop’s voice was stronger than Kirsch expected—clear and penetrating, like a bell. “It is not often we are consulted by men of science, especially one of your prominence. This way, please.”
As Valdespino guided Kirsch across the platform, the cold mountain air whipped at the bishop’s cassock.
“I must confess,” Valdespino said, “you look different than I imagined. I was expecting a scientist, but you’re quite . . .” He eyed his guest’s sleek Kiton K50 suit and Barker ostrich shoes with a hint of disdain. “‘Hip,’ I believe, is the word?”
Kirsch smiled politely. The word “hip” went out of style decades ago.
“In reading your list of accomplishments,” the bishop said, “I am still not entirely sure what it is you do.” “I specialize in game theory and computer modeling.”
“So you make the computer games that the children play?”
Kirsch sensed the bishop was feigning ignorance in an attempt to be quaint. More accurately, Kirsch knew, Valdespino was a frighteningly well-informed student of technology and often warned others of its dangers. “No, sir, actually game theory is a field of mathematics that studies patterns in order to make predictions about the future.”
“Ah yes. I believe I read that you predicted a European monetary crisis some years ago? When nobody listened, you saved the day by inventing a computer program that pulled the EU back from the dead. What was your famous quote? ‘At thirty-three years old, I am the same age as Christ when He performed His resurrection.’”
Kirsch cringed. “A poor analogy, Your Grace. I was young.”
“Young?” The bishop chuckled. “And how old are you now . . . perhaps forty?”
“Just.”
The old man smiled as the strong wind continued to billow his robe. “Well, the meek were supposed to inherit the earth, but instead it has gone to the young—the technically inclined, those who stare into video screens rather than into their own souls. I must admit, I never imagined I would have reason to meet the young man leading the charge. They call you a prophet, you know.”
“Not a very good one in your case, Your Grace,” Kirsch replied. “When I asked if I might meet you and your colleagues privately, I calculated only a twenty percent chance you would accept.”
“And as I told my colleagues, the devout can always benefit from listening to nonbelievers. It is in hearing the voice of the devil that we can better appreciate the voice of God.” The old man smiled. “I am joking, of course. Please forgive my aging sense of humor. My filters fail me from time to time.”
With that, Bishop Valdespino motioned ahead. “The others are waiting. This way, please.”
Kirsch eyed their destination, a colossal citadel of gray stone perched on the edge of a sheer cliff that plunged thousands of feet down into a lush tapestry of wooded foothills. Unnerved by the height, Kirsch averted his eyes from the chasm and followed the bishop along the uneven cliffside path, turning his thoughts to the meeting ahead.
Kirsch had requested an audience with three prominent religious leaders who had just finished attending a conference here.
The Parliament of the World’s Religions.
Since 1893, hundreds of spiritual leaders from nearly thirty world religions had gathered in a different location every few years to spend a week engaged in interfaith dialogue. Participants included a wide array of influential Christian priests, Jewish rabbis, and Islamic mullahs from around the world, along with Hindu pujaris, Buddhist bhikkhus, Jains, Sikhs, and others.
The parliament’s self-proclaimed objective was “to cultivate harmony among the world’s religions, build bridges between diverse spiritualities, and celebrate the intersections of all faith.”
A noble quest, Kirsch thought, despite seeing it as an empty exercise— a meaningless search for random points of correspondence among a hodgepodge of ancient fictions, fables, and myths.
As Bishop Valdespino guided him along the pathway, Kirsch peered down the mountainside with a sardonic thought. Moses climbed a mountain to accept the Word of God . . . and I have climbed a mountain to do quite the opposite.
Kirsch’s motivation for climbing this mountain, he had told himself, was one of ethical obligation, but he knew there was a good dose of hubris fueling this visit—he was eager to feel the gratification of sitting face-to-face with these clerics and foretelling their imminent demise.
You’ve had your run at defining our truth.
“I looked at your curriculum vitae,” the bishop said abruptly, glancing at Kirsch. “I see you’re a product of Harvard University?”
“Undergraduate. Yes.”
“I see. Recently, I read that for the first time in Harvard’s history, the incoming student body consists of more atheists and agnostics than those who identify as followers of any religion. That is quite a telling statistic, Mr. Kirsch.”
What can I tell you, Kirsch wanted to reply, our students keep getting smarter.
The wind whipped harder as they arrived at the ancient stone edifice. Inside the dim light of the building’s entryway, the air was heavy with the thick fragrance of burning frankincense. The two men snaked through a maze of dark corridors, and Kirsch’s eyes fought to adjust as he followed his cloaked host. Finally, they arrived at an unusually small wooden door. The bishop knocked, ducked down, and entered, motioning for his guest to follow.
Uncertain, Kirsch stepped over the threshold.
He found himself in a rectangular chamber whose high walls burgeoned with ancient leather-bound tomes. Additional freestanding bookshelves jutted out of the walls like ribs, interspersed with cast-iron radiators that clanged and hissed, giving the room the eerie sense that it was alive. Kirsch raised his eyes to the ornately balustraded walkway that encircled the second story and knew without a doubt where he was.
The famed library of Montserrat, he realized, startled to have been admitted. This sacred room was rumored to contain uniquely rare texts accessible only to those monks who had devoted their lives to God and who were sequestered here on this mountain.
“You asked for discretion,” the bishop said. “This is our most private space. Few outsiders have ever entered.”
“A generous privilege. Thank you.”
Kirsch followed the bishop to a large wooden table where two elderly men sat waiting. The man on the left looked timeworn, with tired eyes and a matted white beard. He wore a crumpled black suit, white shirt, and fedora.
“This is Rabbi Yehuda Köves,” the bishop said. “He is a prominent Jewish philosopher who has written extensively on Kabbalistic cosmology.”
Kirsch reached across the table and politely shook hands with Rabbi Köves. “A pleasure to meet you, sir,” Kirsch said. “I’ve read your books on Kabbala. I can’t say I understood them, but I’ve read them.”
Köves gave an amiable nod, dabbing at his watery eyes with his handkerchief.
“And here,” the bishop continued, motioning to the other man, “you have the respected allamah, Syed al-Fadl.”
The revered Islamic scholar stood up and smiled broadly. He was short and squat with a jovial face that seemed a mismatch with his dark penetrating eyes. He was dressed in an unassuming white thawb. “And, Mr. Kirsch, I have read your predictions on the future of mankind. I can’t say I agree with them, but I have read them.”
Kirsch gave a gracious smile and shook the man’s hand.
“And our guest, Edmond Kirsch,” the bishop concluded, addressing his two colleagues, “as you know, is a highly regarded computer scientist, game theorist, inventor, and something of a prophet in the technological world. Considering his background, I was puzzled by his request to address the three of us. Therefore, I shall now leave it to Mr. Kirsch to explain why he has come.”
With that, Bishop Valdespino took a seat between his two colleagues, folded his hands, and gazed up expectantly at Kirsch. All three men faced him like a tribunal, creating an ambience more like that of an inquisition than a friendly meeting of scholars. The bishop, Kirsch now realized, had not even set out a chair for him.
Kirsch felt more bemused than intimidated as he studied the three aging men before him. So this is the Holy Trinity I requested. The Three Wise Men.
Pausing a moment to assert his power, Kirsch walked over to the window and gazed out at the breathtaking panorama below. A sunlit patchwork of ancient pastoral lands stretched across a deep valley, giving way to the rugged peaks of the Collserola mountain range. Miles beyond, somewhere out over the Balearic Sea, a menacing bank of storm clouds was now gathering on the horizon.
Fitting, Kirsch thought, sensing the turbulence he would soon cause in this room, and in the world beyond.
“Gentlemen,” he commenced, turning abruptly back toward them. “I believe Bishop Valdespino has already conveyed to you my request for secrecy. Before we continue, I just want to clarify that what I am about to share with you must be kept in the strictest confidence. Simply stated, I am asking for a vow of silence from all of you. Are we in agreement?”
All three men gave nods of tacit acquiescence, which Kirsch knew were probably redundant anyway. They will want to bury this information—not broadcast it.
“I am here today,” Kirsch began, “because I have made a scientific discovery I believe you will find startling. It is something I have pursued for many years, hoping to provide answers to two of the most fundamental questions of our human experience. Now that I have succeeded, I have come to you specifically because I believe this information will affect the world’s faithful in a profound way, quite possibly causing a shift that can only be described as, shall we say—disruptive. At the moment, I am the only person on earth who has the information I am about to reveal to you.”
Kirsch reached into his suit coat and pulled out an oversized smartphone—one that he had designed and built to serve his own unique needs. The phone had a vibrantly colored mosaic case, and he propped it up before the three men like a television. In a moment, he would use the device to dial into an ultra secure server, enter his forty-seven-character password, and live-stream a presentation for them.
“What you are about to see,” Kirsch said, “is a rough cut of an announcement I hope to share with the world—perhaps in a month or so. But before I do, I wanted to consult with a few of the world’s most influential religious thinkers, to gain insight into how this news will be received by those it affects most.”
 
Stay tuned for the second excerpt
Origin by Dan Brown Releases on October 3’ 2017.
Preorder your copy today!

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Art in the Time of Orthodoxy

By Faiqa Mansab
There is a saying in Punjabi: When you make friends with elephants, you should build bigger doors. I’ve always felt that’s an apt way of describing what being an artist means. Art is the elephant; and an artist must make space for the subsequent battles that their art lets into their life. Such battles are small at first: about time spent doing ‘better, more useful things’; then the battles are angrier, ‘you want to end up dead?’ Rubbing the orthodox demagogues, the wrong way isn’t safe in my country and I chose to write stories that are taboo, dangerous even, in the current scenario.
For orthodoxy and extremism to succeed—and they are conjoined twins—a single identity is imperative. Plurality weakens the declaration of ‘us’ versus ‘them’ necessary to the narrative of dogma and so plurality is being systematically shunned. When religion is constructed as the defining feature of a society, then any difference in opinion is perceived as a threat. The bid for a religious identity must be singular, and it must be patriarchal—much like the concept of nationalism. Such an ideology is based on binaries: one must hate in order to love. Extremism is a necessary tool to the fulfillment of nationalistic jargon and jingoism, even though both are in response to global power dynamics and socio-economic oppression.
The battle between organized religion and spiritualism is as old as religion itself. Art for me is a kind of spiritual expression.  Doctrine commands that life must be lived with rules. An artist, by nature, flouts rules. Spiritualism suits me better than orthodox tenets, even if spiritualism is currently out of favor within the society and State I call home. This is precisely because conventional religious dogma suits the State. Orthodoxy means rules, rules mean control and control means power.
It isn’t a West versus Islam condition at all. Even a largely Muslim majority country like Pakistan is facing ethnic and sectarian issues because difference is not tolerated in any form at any level. Look at what is happening at Sufi shrines, the very cradle of love and tolerance is being targeted to reinforce orthodoxy.
Extremism around the world is fed by the ‘us’ versus ‘them’ psyche, spreading like a contagion; and it is not just xenophobic, Islamophobic, anti-Semitic. Shia versus Sunni; liberal versus conservative, orthodox Muslim versus Sufi Muslim, neighbor versus neighbor—as if 1984’s Orwellian universe has become the new reality. These days one must have a single identity to be considered ‘true’ to one’s country, one’s race, one’s people. Not having a single identity makes one suspect. Plurality and hybridity are threats to be eliminated. Hence the witch hunt against seekers of truth—journalists and artists ongoing in Pakistan.
When society is divided between self-proclaimed self-righteous soldiers of God and ‘others’, then any deviation is open to interpretations of madness, of rebellion and sin. When ‘justice’ is meted out by mobs, and social media becomes a platform for shaming and blaming rather than a platform of freedom of speech, then extremism has already infected the socio-political fabric of society. It is already an unstable environment where conformist thinking has taken strong root and flowered into radicalism. These conditions bother me and in my stories, I’ve tried to depict this volatile and insecure place where law is open to interpretation by the highest bidder.
There is a lovely poem in Urdu by Dr. Khalid Javed Jan “Main Baghi Hoon”. It’s a beautiful poem about an artist, a person of principles, who is aware that he dares to do the right thing by speaking out against oppression. It’s one of my most favorite poems.
Man is a political animal. So is woman.
The worst off in this tussle, as in many other power struggles over the past centuries, are women. Their bodies are the site of struggle between conformist and liberal thinkers, and patriarchal wars are waged on their bodies. Should women be ‘allowed’ to wear the hijab?  Should they be ‘allowed’ to wear burkinis? Should they be ‘allowed’ to wear bikinis? If perchance, it’s the body of an immigrant woman, then the right to speak about it, to dictate to it, to pass laws and judgment on it, increases manifold.
It began with Eve, who was not only an exile but also an immigrant. She came to a new world, leaving the familiar, her home—the Garden of Eden (‘Home’ is always the garden of Eden in memory and nostalgia) looking to build a new life with Adam on Earth. Immigration is ingrained in human psyche. It is a natural progression for some, a necessary act of survival for others.
There is another kind of immigration that the world finds problematic: the one between genders. Where do people of indeterminate gender, people who choose to change their sexual identity go? There is no country for queer people.
We can all agree that gender is a political declaration. My novel, This House of Clay and Water tells the stories of Bhanggi, Nida and Zoya, a hermaphrodite, a woman, and a child who are victims of their place, their society and culture, because of their genders and because they do not conform. Gender is still at the heart of power struggles in a lot of places in the world. And place, space, position is important in negotiating with power. Where one is from, and where one can go, are equally dynamic parameters of negotiation.
I often wonder, what art means. It is a roar against patriarchy for me, and it is a declaration of independence against conformity. Art reflects its times and the response of people to those times.
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6 Quotes from Nadeem Aslam’s Searing New Book that will Leave You in Awe

Against a background of violence and fear, two outsiders in Pakistan try to find an island of calm in which their love can grow. In his characteristically  enchanting prose, Nadeem Aslam reflects Pakistan’s past and present in a single mirror—a story of corruption, resilience, and the hope that only love and the human spirit can offer.
Here are six quotes from his  new novel – The Golden Legend.
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Struck by the searing instances above?
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Master on Masters – An Excerpt

India is the only country in the world which has two traditions of classical music—those of the South or the ‘Carnatic’ and the North or ‘Hindustani’. However, I prefer to call it just music. The basis of all music in the world is the same—seven notes. Sa Re Ga Ma Pa Dha Ni in Indian classical music and Do Re Me Fa So La Ti in Western classical. If we include the half-tones that are the sharps and flats, we get a total of twelve notes. Music connects the whole world; it does not belong to any one race or religion.
The future of Indian classical music will always be bright. We are fortunate to have had such strong pillars of music like Swami Haridas, Swami Purandar Dasa, Swami Muthuswami Dikshitar, Syama Sastri, Swami Thyagaraja, Swathi Thirunal, Miyan Tansen and Baiju Bawra in our country. With their blessings, there are a large number of talented young musicians in India today. Indian classical music has always been, and will continue to be, an integral part of our identity. It does not belong only to the world of entertainment; it is a way of life based on dedication, surrender, faith, trust, spirituality, religion, and rigorous practice and discipline. No matter which gharana or guru a student of Indian classical music belongs to, they must surrender completely to their guru and to the Almighty. It is almost like entering a dark tunnel with the hope of seeing the sun someday. It might sound impractical, but this is how it is. There is no formula here. Many times, people ask me if their son or daughter will ‘make it’ as a classical musician. I have no answer to this question because there never was and never will be a magic mantra.
Over the years, I have seen a change in the attitude of disciples. While some are epitomes of dedication and grace, others want to become superstars overnight and, in the process, shift their focus away from their path to the extent of disagreeing and questioning what the guru has to say. Classical music is not for someone who is in search of glamour and overnight fame. Years and hours of practice and dedication go into the making of a classical musician.
Today, electronic and social media are largely encouraging the kind of music which is not classical. But true classical musicians are not created by the media. The listeners of our country are fairly selective. Nobody can impose an artist on them. The only way for a young musician to succeed is to work hard, practise rigorously and maintain strict discipline. This is not restricted to music alone, but extends to Indian rules of etiquette (tehzeeb and tameez) as well.
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I disagree with those who say that Indian classical music is a dying art form. We must understand a few things here. It was never for the masses to begin with. It was originally performed only in private mehfils, with concert hall performances being a recent phenomenon. Today, classical musicians perform at venues like Carnegie Hall, Royal Albert Hall and Sydney Opera House to packed auditoriums. You are talking about an audience fighting against the ninety to hundred odd television channels at home! Likewise, in India, when I see huge venues filling up, I don’t think we can really complain. It is the responsibility of the artist to make the youth relate to their music. The kind of attention that Bollywood and the fashion industry are receiving today from mainstream media, Indian classical music got three decades ago! In the sixties and seventies, musicians would play ragas for two to three hours. Frankly, after maybe an hour, it was all repetition. However, due to this attitude of artists who perhaps wanted to prove a point, a section of listeners drifted away to easy listening. One must keep in mind that no books or shastras ever mentioned how classical music should be presented. By bringing it in sync with times, one cannot be faulted for diluting it at all.
I believe in being traditional, not conventional. In the early eighties, I had recorded an album of short pieces around ragas. At the time, I was criticized for not going into too much detail of the ragas, but I am happy that today this has become a trend. I see the great journey of Indian classical music being carried forward by brilliant young musicians who have a readymade repository—painstakingly put together by my contemporaries and me through years of hard work and research—to build on. Thanks to the Internet, websites like YouTube, gadgets like iPods, DVDs and CDs, we can be in every home in the world. It makes me happy to see dedicated young musicians who are also committed performers. I wish them a bright and successful future and I am sure that our classical music and legacy will flourish not only in India but all over the world. I am also heartened by the response of the rest of the world to our country and its musical tradition.
One area that touches me deeply is culture. Reared on a diet of tradition and continuity, it is challenging to live in a modern world with classical values. Yet, I chose to belong to a system where oral knowledge is passed from guru to student during actual music lessons. I often feel I am standing at a crossroads. Where do we go from here? How will classical music evolve? There is a deluge of pop and so-called fusion, remixed ragas and experimental music—great work is being done. The instant success of any of these, as opposed to the long hours of dedication required in the traditional set-up, sometimes stands in the way of progress. I think it is wonderful to imbibe from different cultures all over the world, but let’s not forget who we are or what we have to offer. We need to be, first and foremost, proud of ourselves, of our own accomplishments. Exposure to the arts is mandatory to ensure true appreciation of any medium. At the same time, while modernizing, we must not lose our traditional infrastructures. It will indeed be a sad day for all of us if our musical traditions, that date back more than 5000 years, were to be sacrificed at the altar of modernity. It is crucial that historic and contemporary cultures merge with one another to preserve a uniquely Indian way of life. We must ensure that modernization in our country occurs, as far as possible, in keeping with historical trends. We should be proud of these trends as they have brought us to where we stand today. We must never forget our roots.


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5 Things You Didn’t Know About Mohammad Ali Jinnah

Mohammad Ali Jinnah is well known as a world leader who rose during the freedom struggle against British colonization. Personally, he was often described as stern or cold and singularly obsessed with his political ambitions, however , there are many unknown facets to him.
Sheela Reddy uncovers some of these in her new book, Mr and Mrs Jinnah:
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Sheela Reddy in her exhaustive account, chronicles the unknown facets of the man known as Mohammad Ali Jinnah. Get your copy here.

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