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Ignore new world at your own peril

The new caste system is not the old varna system but a suspicion that anyone who did not go through the same kind of socialisation or education as you is to be treated with suspicion
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AS I listen to the eternal (and noisy) debates in our media or read them the next day in our newspapers, I am reminded of an old Zen tale I read many years ago. A certain ruler, fed up with the constant bickering among his courtiers, decided to resolve this mess. He sent one half away for a month-long tour of his kingdom and asked them to report on all the wrongs they saw and to the other half he said he wanted a report on all the good they could find. At the end of the month, the first lot came back with a long list of misery and the king asked, “Did you see anything good at all?” They shook their heads. Then he turned to the other lot and received songs of praise about the well-being of his land. “Did you see anything wrong?” he asked them and they shook their heads. The king then turned to both the parties and said, “If you seek only the good, you will not notice the bad and vice-versa. Let this be a lesson to all of you.”

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I have abbreviated the story only to make the same point about the so-called bhakts and the so-called liberals in India at present. It seems to me as if they occupy different worlds and what is even worse, they have closed their eyes to the possibility of there being both things to abhor and things to admire in the current era. I know of people who switch off their TVs when ‘the other’ speaks and some who have blocked certain channels because they are ‘tainted’. In my own world, I have two sets of school friends, and although we do not encourage political views, I can clearly read the subtext of their posts.

On a visit to the LBS Academy in Mussoorie where all civil servants are trained after they enter government service, we ran into many old acquaintances we had not met or seen for over half a century. The same line divided them as well: if you look around you, whether it is relatives, school and college friends, colleagues from work, the Army, academia or the arts — there is a distinct level of discomfort and caution when speaking to someone from the other side.

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Let’s face it: the new caste system is not the old varna system but a suspicion that anyone who did not go through the same kind of socialisation or education as you is to be treated with suspicion. While it is true that as we grow older, we all believe that our times were the best, many of us are not only unable to deal with social and cultural change, we actually refuse to face the reality of a new age.

When my husband and his batch entered the civil service 52 years ago, the Academy was still a colonial institution: its architecture, its facilities (draughty rooms, no running hot water, antiquated bukharis for heating those icy cold rooms) and its training programmes were almost the same as what the Brits had laid down almost a century ago. So, horse riding was mandatory (because as a sub-divisional magistrate, probationers needed to ride on rough village roads where cars could not go). Dinner was served with the kind of cutlery that the burra sahibs used, although many came from homes where eating at a dining table in a bandhgala suit was not the norm. I could go on about how anachronistic that life now appears but what I saw now was an eye-opener. Gone was the old shabby Charleville Hotel (as the Academy was then called) and in its place was a state-of-the-art training centre. The rooms had all the mod cons with classy furniture (not niwar beds with bugs) and splendid lecture halls and seminar rooms. The director gave a very impressive presentation to the old fogeys from 1971 on the tremendous change in the curriculum, where digital technology, statistics, planning and policy had been made the focus with room for Artificial Intelligence (AI) and drones and what have you. The probationers are now called Kartavya-somethings and ‘Amrit Kaal’ dripped from every lip. Power-point presentations have replaced the old lectures that droned on and on when wicked probationers (my husband was the leader, I’m afraid) did their crosswords and sent messages to the girls across the aisle. The premises had a splendid array of tulips and manicured lawns and the grounds the probationers once ran out to smoke between classes are now sedate green spaces. Food is served in the mess and self-service is now the norm, no bearers and ‘gips’ run back and forth. Mercifully, there are lifts for creaking knees of the ‘veterans’ and a lounge where they can congregate to meet old friends. I met a young couple (fit and athletic) who looked like college students but were Election Commissioners in their states, here on a refresher course for the forthcoming elections in their states.

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So much to admire, in short, and so much to regret. Yet, on balance, one could not miss the energy and enthusiasm of a new generation of trainers and trainees. The three buzzwords once were: ability, anonymity and austerity. I wonder how long these values will be cherished and followed. Some have already been buried.

A brave new world is upon us: ignore it at your peril.

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