Skip to main content

From Bhishma to Modi

 


“Do you really believe that you are a selfless person?” Draupadi asks Bhishma in my short story, The Autumn of the Patriarch. And the Patriarch of two kingdoms stands speechless before that question. What prevented Bhishma from seeing the adharma of what was done to Draupadi first by Yudhishthira and then by Duryodhana? What kind of dharma did this man, this great patriarch, practise? Draupadi contemplates. She recalled what he had done to Amba, Ambika and Ambalika. Just carried them off without even bothering to find out what their wishes were. And then gave them to another man as wives. As if women were commodities made for gratifying men’s varied pleasures some of which were as perverse as Bhishma’s when he carried them off like trophies. And when Amba faced problems one after another because of what Bhishma did, the great patriarch treated her as if she were a lump of cow dung. No, even cow dung gets more respect!

“Dharma is too subtle,” Bhishma tells Amba in my story. “Truth is simple,” Draupadi retorts.

This story which I wrote a few months after Modi became India’s Prime Minister in 2014 kicked my memory awake yesterday as I sat in a movie hall watching the Malayalam movie, Bhishmaparvam (Book of Bhishma). The movie has little to do with the mythological patriarch except that the protagonist, Michael (played by the inimitable Mammootty), shares certain characteristics like: he is the patriarch of a huge family with villainous characters (one of the villains being a Catholic priest who is treated rightly like scum from beginning to end), he is a bachelor pledged to look after dharma and won’t hesitate to kill for the sake of that dharma, he has been given the mandate as patriarch by his father, and he is good at heart even when he kills ruthlessly.

Draupadi in my story mentioned above accuses Bhishma of lovelessness. What is the meaning of selflessness devoid of love? Draupadi makes Bhishma think. But Michael in Bhishmaparvam has love in his heart. Maybe, Bhishma in the Mahabharata also had love in his heart. The problem with love is that it seldom walks hand in hand with truth. Love is blind. Truth has a 6/6 vision.

Is it possible to combine love and truth with one yoke? I often think people like Jesus died young because they realised the futility of trying to yoke those two things together.

Dharma leans more towards truth. But it cannot ignore love. The great patriarch has to walk the tightrope between truth and love. Tough. Bhishma managed it as best as he could, I should say though I never liked what he did to Amba. And Draupadi too. He did not exercise his heart enough, I think. Or was he a misogynist? Even Bhishma cannot be perfect, that’s all I know in the end. Even the incarnations of God had too many imperfections – irrespective of their religions.

 I mentioned Modi somewhere in the beginning of this post not without a reason. Not because I’m obsessed with Modi as some people allege. I found myself contrasting and comparing old Vyasa’s Bhishma with present India’s Modi. The latter is a ruthless bachelor with a single-minded dedication who kills love at every bend in the road for the sake of what he thinks is dharma.

What did Bhishma’s dharma achieve in the end? Even Krishna, an incarnation of God, shot murderous arrows through that dharma in the end. Treacherously too. Even God gives up dharma before love. Michael in Bhishmaparvam is more on the side of Krishna than Bhishma. Modi is on the side of Bhishma. But there is a big difference, a difference that snarls at me whenever Modi rises in my consciousness like he did this morning when my breakfast news reported that he has started a website, Modi Story, to advertise himself even more aggressively. Oh my God! How much should we endure in a lifetime! Amba would have found Bhishma too good in comparison. Forget Draupadi’s disrobing.


I did not like Bhishmaparvam. It’s just another cliched story of a benign patriarch adding to the entropy in our immoral universe.

Comments

  1. I am tired of how many things are invented just to praise him and barely any that question him

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. There are plenty of people who question him. But they're all silenced.

      Delete
  2. It's lovely to read your blog after such a long time. I agree, Modi stands out and I have a lot of respect for the gentleman.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Progressing from a nonexistent tea shop to the opulent Central Vista does call for attention.

      Delete
  3. Hari OM
    ...he may live as one, but Modi is most definitely NOT a bachelor. His wife, Jashodaben Chimanlal, is still very much alive and living on meager pension with her brother and sister-in-law. The analogy with Bhishma does Bhishma no favours! Modi sees himself more as some sort of mahatma, without having gone through any of the asceticism... YAM xx

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You said it. The man is personification of fraudulence. But people see a Messiah in him! I'm sure the hollowness will burst sooner than later with a terrifying boom... And India will be stunned by the emptiness of itself.

      Delete
  4. If self-serving can be called Dharma, then Modi is definitely following HIS Dharma with complete sincerity. Love (except for his chair) is something he does not appear to have come across in his life till date. As far as Bhishma is concerned, by combining his (so-called) Dharma and love (for the Paandavas), he allowed himself to be split into two with the heart being at one place while the body at some other one. Your article is an objective one. My one question for Draupadi - Is she sure that whatever she did in her life was righteous ? Did she never put any foot wrong ? Perhaps the thing that she could not understand that destiny repaid her in the same coin. We are too conscious about the wrongs done to us but become amnesiac when it comes to the wrongs done by us to others.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Entering into the Mahabharata is tricky. You don't know which side to take. Even the god in it is deceptive. I am like an ice skater when I touch the epic. Just on the surface. I'm obliged to you for raising these questions. I have endless questions too on all the characters in the epic. All said, that's a sign of greatness in the epic.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Adventures of Toto as a comic strip

  'The Adventures of Toto' is an amusing story by Ruskin Bond. It is prescribed as a lesson in CBSE's English course for class 9. Maggie asked her students to do a project on some of the lessons and Femi George's work is what I would like to present here. Femi converted the story into a beautiful comic strip. Her work will speak for itself and let me present it below.  Femi George Student of Carmel Public School, Vazhakulam, Kerala Similar post: The Little Girl

Everything is Politics

Politics begins to contaminate everything like an epidemic when ideology dies. Death of ideology is the most glaring fault line on the rock of present Indian democracy. Before the present regime took charge of the country, political parties were driven by certain underlying ideologies though corruption was on the rise from Indira Gandhi’s time onwards. Mahatma Gandhi’s ideology was rooted in nonviolence. Nothing could shake the Mahatma’s faith in that ideal. Nehru was a staunch secularist who longed to make India a nation of rational people who will reap the abundant benefits proffered by science and technology. Even the violent left parties had the ideal of socialism to guide them. The most heartless political theory of globalisation was driven by the ideology of wealth-creation for all. When there is no ideology whatever, politics of the foulest kind begins to corrode the very soul of the nation. And that is precisely what is happening to present India. Everything is politics

Mango Trees and Cats

Appu and Dessie, two of our cats, love to sleep under the two mango trees in front of our house these days. During the daytime, that is, when the temperature threatens to brush 40 degrees Celsius. The shade beneath the mango trees remains a cool 28 degrees or so. Mango trees have this tremendous cooling effect. When I constructed the house, the area in front had no touch of greenery as you can see in the pic below.  Now the same area, which was totally arid then, looks like what's below:  Appu and Dessie find their bower in that coolness.  I wanted to have a lot of colours around my house. I tried growing all sorts of flower plants and failed rather miserably. The climate changes are beyond the plants’ tolerance levels. Moreover, all sorts of insects and pests come from nowhere and damage the plants. Crotons survive and even thrive. I haven’t given up hope with the others yet. There are a few adeniums, rhoeos, ixoras, zinnias and so on growing in the pots. They are trying their

The Little Girl

The Little Girl is a short story by Katherine Mansfield given in the class 9 English course of NCERT. Maggie gave an assignment to her students based on the story and one of her students, Athena Baby Sabu, presented a brilliant job. She converted the story into a delightful comic strip. Mansfield tells the story of Kezia who is the eponymous little girl. Kezia is scared of her father who wields a lot of control on the entire family. She is punished severely for an unwitting mistake which makes her even more scared of her father. Her grandmother is fond of her and is her emotional succour. The grandmother is away from home one day with Kezia's mother who is hospitalised. Kezia gets her usual nightmare and is terrified. There is no one at home to console her except her father from whom she does not expect any consolation. But the father rises to the occasion and lets the little girl sleep beside him that night. She rests her head on her father's chest and can feel his heart

Brownie and I - a love affair

The last snap I took of Brownie That Brownie went away without giving me a hint is what makes her absence so painful. It’s nearly a month and I know now for certain that she won’t return. Worse, I know that she didn’t want to leave me. She couldn’t have. Brownie is the only creature who could make me do what she wanted. She had the liberty to walk into my bedroom at any time of the night and wake me up for a bite of her favourite food. She would sit below the bed and meow. If I didn’t get up and follow her, she would climb on the bed and meow to my face. She knew I would get up and follow her to the cupboard where bags of cat food were stored.  My Mistress in my study Brownie was not my only cat; there were three others. But none of the other three ever made the kind of demands that Brownie made. If any of them came to eat the food I served Brownie at odd hours of the night, Brownie would flatly refuse to eat with them in spite of the fact that it was she who had brought me out of