Love's Fine Wit

Check out this film that I made in College, together with my friends Deepti and Shivam. Title derives from Shakespeare's Sonnets: "To hear with one's eyes belongs to Love's Fine Wit". The Oscar Worthy performances are delivered by two other friends: Nishita Jha and Rishi Vyas.

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Public Eye

Remember how the video cameras follow around Matt Damon in The Departed. Or how they kept an eye on Tom Hanks character in the terminal. I found it supercool how in various soy movies the hacks would break into the system and manipulate the CCTv cameras palced around the city. Well, thanks to Google (Where would we be without it?), you could have access to some of these cameras. Located, dissappointingly, at placid University campuses and quiet suburbs, these cameras arent the action packed, super sleuth gadegets that are part of our fantasies. But are great just for kicks.

Type out the following in your goolge search toolbar and enjoy watching the breeze go through the trees or a potted plant getiing watered. Dream away, Mr. Bond...

inurl:view/view.shtml
inurl:view/index.shtml
inurl:view/indexFrame.shtml
inurl:axis-cgi/mjpg
inurl:axis-cgi/jpg
inurl:ViewerFrame?Mode=
vintitle:”live view” intitle:axis
intitle:liveapplet
allintitle:”Network Camera NetworkCamera”
intitle:axis intitle:”video server”
inurl:”ViewerFrame?Mode=refresh”

Source: Angad at Sacredmediacow

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"But you are Muslim too. Why didn't your home burn down?"

The spirits come to Shah Alam Camp after midnight. They bring food, water, clothes and medicines from Heaven. That is why you won’t find any sick, naked, hungry or thirsty children in Shah Alam Camp. And that is also why Shah Alam Camp has become so famous. Its fame has spread far and wide among the dead. A certain dignitary from New Delhi who had come to inspect the camp was so pleased at what he saw that he announced: "This is a very fine place… all the Muslim children from all over India should be brought here."

This excellent story by Asghar Wajahat moved me deeply. Shah Alam Camp is a relief camp in Ahmedabad, where over 15,000 Muslims battle for space in the aftermath of the Ghodra riots. It's a lifting story; an allegory ending on a note of dry-humour that lifts you over the polemic on post-Godhra Gujrat, and provides a personal account of suffering, despair, alienation and bigotry.

Also read this piece by Zahir Janmohamed. Zahir is an Indian-American writing about his first visit to Shah Alam Camp.

Writes Zahid:

As I left the Shah Alam camp, another child asked, "Why are you able to leave? Why can't my family leave?" Any Muslim caught leaving the Shah Alam camp was arrested. Posted all around were police officers, their weapons facing towards, not away from the refugees. Muslims in the camp, I was told, were planning an attack. Conditions in the camp were so dire that an infant died in the camp of dehydration. What potential threat could people under such conditions pose?

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Alvida, Jehangir

Jehangir Eslah died in Delhi on the 20^th June 2007, celebrated each year as World Refugee Day to commemorate millions that have been displaced by conflict and persecution. Had he been alive he would probably have helped organise the yearly function held by the UNHCR and its partner agencies, just like he did last year-organizing a traditional dance from his native Iran. He had come to India with his family in 2001, fleeing arrest and persecution. Friends and family describe him as a simple, humble and god-fearing man who was generous and hopeful of his future, despite the limited means and many setbacks that he faced.

Nobody spared thought for Jehangir that morning. Lofty thoughts and self-congratulations were on the agenda of all refugee protection agencies in the city. Jehangirs family mourned alone, not only shattered by Jehangir’s death but financially broken by the high hospital costs. Jehangir had been hospitalised for 10 days, in a critical condition. The family, not having the means to afford the treatment- requested, appealed, begged to the UNHCR for some financial help. Only to be rudely told off each time.

Jehangir was alone with his wife in his two-room house in Bhogal on 10^th June, when he suffered a massive heart attack. His wife who could only speak Farsi rushed him the Dr. Gupta, the only Farsi speaking doctor in the neighbourhood. Dr. Gupta, seeing that Jehangir’s critical condition, himself hailed an auto-rickshaw and advised Mrs. Eslah to take him to National Heart Institute (NHI), in East of kailash, the nearest specialist hospital for heart patients for further diagnosis.

On reaching NHI the doctors’ present confirmed that Jehangir’s situation was critical and they needed a deposit of 10,000 rs before they could begin treatment. Distraught and unable to communicate with the doctors, Mrs Eslah called an Ali, an Iranian interpreter whom she knew, for help. Not having the means to pay the deposit, they decided to approach the UNHCR, confident that they would receive some sort of help from the internationally funded agency dedicated to refugee protection and welfare.

After trying several times to reach them by phone, they finally went to the UNHCR office in Jor Bagh. The officers that met them informed them that the UNHCR only paid for treatment of refugees in AIIMS, and since Jehangir was admitted in a private hospital they could do nothing to help them. It was a matter of policy. The Eslahs were forced to borrow money for the deposit from their friends, mostly refugees themselves.

When Jehangir’s condition improved a little the next day, the hospital demanded 15,000 rs for an angiography, to determine further course of treatment. They decided to approach the UNHCR again, this time with a letter from the hospital saying that Jehangir was in no condition for a transfer.

Once again the UNHCR dismissed their pleas for aid. “They were rude and dismissive and told me that if they paid for one refugee then they all the rest would also ask them for money. I was shocked by their attitude. It was as if we were asking money for treatment of a common cold.” Mrs. Eslah, seeing that the situation was hopeless fainted. She was rushed to AIIMS where she was diagnosed with trauma resulting from shock.

On Tuesday, 12^th June Jehangir got a stroke and was admitted to VIMHANS by midnight. The family kept pleading, to no avail, for money and logistical help. At one point the administrative staff at VIMHANS approached the UNHCR with the offer to pay costs equivalent to a government hospital, but were rudely told that the UNHCR would not be able to provide more than 4000-5000 rs for treatment.

The UNHCR, when asked how they helped the family in the course of their crisis, said in a statement that they were in constant touch with the family and hospitals and were monitoring the situation carefully. They also insisted that all medical bills had been cleared by them and that they had “reimbursed the family fully to the extent that the treatment would have cost in AIIMS”. The Eslahs refute this claim, maintaining that not a single rupee has been paid by the UNHCR so far. They have spent around 1.5 lakh rupee for the hospital bills, most of which was sent by Jehangir’s mother and brothers, themselves refugees in Canada, who borrowed it from their acquaintances. The only money that the Eslahs have received from the refugee protection agencies so far is 7000rs, given to them on the day of Jehangirs death by a YMCA worker, one of the partner agencies of the UNHCR, saying that it was a “gift” from their agency. When contacted by Ali the next day, on behalf of the family, the YMCA clarified that this money was meant as a goodwill gesture from them and that the UNHCR would deal with the payment of hospital bills.

The Eslahs claim that no UNHCR official visited them during the time that Jehangir was hospitalized, or after his death. Twice representatives of YMCA visited the hospital, when they enquired with the doctors about Jehangir’s condition. Their visits barely lasted 15 minutes each time, with no reassurances or promise of help to the family.

The Eslahs paid two lakh rupees to be shipped to India aboard a trading vessel. “We had hopes of freedom and happiness when we arrived here. But life has been horrible here, thanks to the UNHCR”, says Mrs Eslah. In the 7 years that the Eslahs have been here, they received regular subsistence allowance only for the past three. Their applications for resettlement have been refused 6 times. Their children, a boy(16) and a girl(22) ,don’t know how to read or write. Their only hope is that they be resettled to Canada, which the UNHCR says has been fast-tracked owing to the vulnerability of the family after Jehangir’s death.

On the day of Jehangir’s death the Eslahs contacted the YMCA for help in organizing a funeral service in a church. They were again told that nothing could be done; they were busy organizing a party to mark World Refugee Day. The irony is hard to miss.

Harder to understand is the aloof, bureaucratic and insensitive attitude of the UNHCR that has left this family embittered is testimony to the organizations apathy in dealing with refugees. UNHCR needs to ask itself some tough questions, and the first should be how much are they dedicated to humanitarian work. For nothing done is ever enough to save a life, and the UNHCR could easily have done more.

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Outsourcing Idiocy

Washington Post today carried a fantastically funny piece by Gene Weingarten. The article mocks the concept of outsourcing journalism, an issue brought to fore by a California on-line newspaper PASADENA NOW, a community newspaper. The logic of it's owner James Macphereson is simple-"Whether you're at a desk in Pasadena or a desk in Mumbai, you're still just a phone call or e-mail away from the interview". (Source)

The jounalists are to report on the basis of webcasts of Pasadena City Council meetings.

That it is a community newspaper and hence needs someone who is connected with local issues notwithstanding, he beleives that "it could be a significant way to increase the quality of journalism on the local level without the expense that is a major problem for local publications".

Macphereson runs the website from his house, his main help being his wife and an intern.

Giggles galore on reading Weingarten's story. Here's an excerpt -

CHENNAI, INDIA -- A man whose name is, I swear, "Somnath Chatterjee,"
addressed the state legislature here today. Mr. Chatterjee was introduced as the
leader of the "Lok Sabha," which is evidently some sort of important national
lawmaking body about which few details are available at this time.

He goes on...

It was not immediately evident what Dr. Haminahamina's points were, but he
yammered on for quite a while, through many fast-forwards, until, finally, he
stopped, and the desk-thumping resumed. Another guy in white arrived with an
enormous colorful silk tablecloth. An apparently horrified Mr. Chatterjee put
his palms together in prayer and bowed his head meekly, but it was to no avail,
as the tablecloth was draped over him, anyway.

UPDATE: Reuters has decided to outsource hundreds of it's jobs to India (Link). I'm keeping my options open.

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“Aansoo nahin, aah hai Dilli”: A review of the play City of Djinns

A eunuch weaves through the audience demanding money. An incense bearing Sufi blesses us. The qawwals sit atop the expansive set, breaking into music now and then, as the drama of the city unfolds with Sufis, sadhus, snake charmers, calligraphers, kabutarbaaz together creating a grand, exotic vision of the city’s past..

City of Djinns, directed by Rudradeep Bannerjee, brings Dalrymple’s memoir of the city to life. The play is faithful to the book, with Tom Alter playing William (Dalrymple) who explores the city’s past through a series of meetings with some of its most eccentric inhabitants.

I thought Dalrymple evoked the city’s past brilliantly; yet Dalrymple’s Delhi is distilled and exotic, distant from the realities of its present. The book, as Dalrymple admits, was targeted at foreign audience, and hence a dilli-wala would be unable to wholly relate to it. The characters are caricatures-the Muslim mystics, the rustic Punjabis, and a handful of exotics like eunuchs and animal charmers thrown in for good measure. It is beautiful in its conception, entertaining, yet shallow in its scope.

The same goes for the play-the snake-charmers and kite sellers, Sufis and eunuchs, Qawwals and Kebab-wallahs all make for a charming atmosphere, but the performance itself leaves you indifferent. The sprawling set and a cast of 50 people promises a lot in terms of spectacle but delivers little. Action happens in small pockets, the protagonist constantly dashing in and out of them, exchanging notes and sharing jokes. This might have been interesting if the seating was better organized. There are 3 price-ranges: 500, 300 and 200. The seats, however, are not on a gradient and hence for most part of the play I found myself staring at the turban of the Sikh gentleman sitting in from of me. Although, I skipped rows later and promptly sat in a few empty Rs. 500 seats, God forbid you find yourself with a Rs 200 ticket on a full night.

Tom Alter is brilliant and carries of the performance single-handedly with his stage presence. He jumps, whoops, dances and dashes- enthusing the play with a dynamism that is otherwise missing. The supporting cast, on the other hand, is disappointing. The action looks too dispersed and the dialogues lack impact. Some characters like Olivia, William’s wife, are redundant, serving merely as props. Entertaining characters like Mrs. Puri, William’s landlady lack the same appeal that they had in the book for want of good acting. The exception is Balwinder, the taxi-driver, who is by far the most believable and well acted. Zohra Sehgal effortlessly steals the show in the second half, in a much-publicized 5 minute cameo as Nora Nicholson, an eccentric Anglo-Indian.

The most enjoyable thing are although are the Qawwalis- Sabri Brothers classics, sung by qawwals sitting, djinn-like, high above the stage and giving the play that enchanted aura. Add to this the open air theater and the night breeze and maybe you could delude yourself into believing that you are watching a Qawwali-pantomime musical. Watch this play just for that.

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Lost in Exile: Refugees in Delhi

Than Mang was arrested on 4th December, 2006 while he sat outside the UNHCR office on a hunger strike, demanding to be recognized as a refugee. His appeal for recognition had been rejected twice before; with no other option open for him, Mang decided to demand what he considered to be his right. To his horror, the same agency that he approached for a safe haven reported him to the police, nearly leading to his deportation back to the certain torture and possible death that he had fled from.


The son of a pastor, 19 year old Than Mang was arrested in July 2003 while transporting Bibles from the village of Farkwan, on the Indian side of the porous India-Burma border, to his village Tlangpi in Chin state in Western Burma. In addition to the bibles, an envelope containing a letter and a photograph of an army-man, which he was carrying back for some people in his village from their relatives in Farkwan, proved incriminating. He was arrested and tortured in custody, suspected to be a supporter of the Chin National Front (CNF), a rebel group demanding a separate state. En-route to the dreaded Lung Ler Army detention camp, the convoy was ambushed by the CNA, and in the ensuing fracas, Mang managed to escape.

Mang crossed the border into Mizoram, joining 50,000 Chin refugees, located in make-shift refugee camps. Left at the mercy of local authorities and political outfits, these vulnerable refugees were routinely evicted and sent back to Burma. It was here that Mang received news from his father that in Mang’s absence, the military was going to arrest him. The letter exhorted him not to return and to seek protection in India.

This story did not seem credible enough to the UNHCR; he was rejected for lack of documents to support his claim.

Mang made the long journey to Delhi in 2003, with the belief that being directly under the nose of the only UNHCR office in the country would ensure recognition and aid for him as a refugee. He had waited here for three years, penniless; his only income was the paltry sum earned playing the Church organ for the Chin Community Church, every Sunday. Intermittently, he received letters from his village, telling tales of arrests and torture, including that of his father. His inability to speak Hindi or English, frequently got him into trouble with the local authorities.

When he fond out in November 2005 that he had been rejected and did not have the right to appeal again, Mang saw all doors closed for him. Therefore, the hunger strike.

“How can anyone force us into accepting them as a refugee? There is a proper procedure for these things. We tried telling that to Than Mang and even got some people from his community to speak to him”, says Nayana Bose, External Relations Officer at the UNHCR-New Delhi. The letter sent to police, by the UNHCR, said that Than Mang, “a national from Myanmar… (did) not have credible claims to become a refugee” and is now sitting in an “illegal demonstration” outside the UNHCR office.
It urged the police to “take action as appropriate and remove him from the premises”, citing concerns for his health.


Hunger strike is not illegal; the only charge that the police could hold up was his illegal presence on Indian Territory under section 14 of the Foreigners Act. Appropriate action was taken: the Burmese embassy was informed and Mang was sought to be deported. “I did not know what was happening to me. When I realized that they were going to send me back, I cried and begged that they do anything to me but send me back. They would have killed me there”, says Mang. Fortunately, when he was taken to the Burmese embassy the official there refused to take custody of him and advised the police to deal with him according to Indian law.

“We had no idea that he would be taken to the Burmese Embassy” says Nayana Bose “Earlier they would simply round them up and take them away”. The ignorance is shocking. An organization dedicated to “safeguarding the rights and well being of refugees” needs to be better informed of the laws related to them. The decision to report Mang to the police in the first place was a gross violation of trust and a lack of accountability on the part of the UNHCR. In this case it could have also proved fatal.

“I fear that if the Burmese government found out that I escaped to India”, wrote Mang in a desperate appeal to the UNHCR from prison, “I would certainly be tortured or even exterminated upon return”. Ironically, the danger that the UNHCR had put him into, finally opened their eyes to his “legitimate fear of persecution”; he was granted refugee status on 26th March, 2007.

What is worse is that Mangs case is not an exception. South Asia Human Rights Documentation Centre (SAHRDC), a human rights group that works in support of Burmese refugees, says that many refugees received rude treatment at the hands of UNHCRs legal officers and were rejected recognition unjustly. “Through interviews, we could only conclude that the questions asked of many asylum seekers at the interview stage were conducted by under trained staff, undertaken with an air of suspicion”, says Ravi Nair, Managing Dirctor of SAHRDC, “and did not address the core reasons of why the individual could establish a well-founded fear of persecution”.

India is not a signatory to the 1951 Refugee Convention or its 1968 protocol, the benchmark for all international refugee law, which recognizes as a refugee “any person who… owing to a well founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group or political opinion, is outside his country of his nationality and is unable or, owing to such fear, is unwilling to avail himself of the protection of that country”. The official justification given by India was that the Convention defines the refugees on an individual level while India prefers to deal with them as a group. Over the years regional politics and international relations have come to shape India’s ad hoc refugee policy more than anything else. Hence, Sri Lankan Tamils and Tibetans are recognised and supported as refugees by the Indian government, while other, groups like Afghans and Burmese aren’t. The UNHCR itself was re-established in Delhi in 1981, with a limited mandate, to deal with the influx of Afghan refugees following the Soviet invasion, since the Indian government did not wish to upset the Soviet Union, by dealing with the refugees directly.

Similarly, when the ruling SPDC began its crackdown on suspected Chin National Front supporters and repression of the Chin minority, in Western Burma in 1988, India set up refugee camps in Manipur and Mizoram to accommodate Burmese Chin refugees. However, with the normalization of Indo-Burma relations and India looking to curb China’s influence in the region, the Indian government became warmer towards the SPDC and the camps fell into neglect. Reports from refugees and NGOs point out that even today arbitrary evictions are carried out by local authorities and political outfits, contrary to the non-refoulment understanding.

Delhi has 15,000 “urban refugees” under the UNHCRs care, including Afghans, Burmese, Sudanese, Somalis, Iranians and Iraqis. This constitutes one of the largest and most diversified urban-refugee populations. Most have fled violent, war-torn environments with the hope of finding a safer, better future for themselves and their children.

On the contrary, refugees find themselves in a limbo in India. Indian Law treats them as ordinary aliens, making it impossible for them to integrate within Indian society. They have no legal status and are forbidden from working, trading or setting up businesses and owning land or property. Their ambiguous legal status makes them subject to harassment by the police and local authorities.

The Burmese-Chin are the most disadvantaged group amongst refugees. Their physical traits, rural background, religious and cultural practices and inability to speak the local languages, makes it difficult for them to blend in, leaving them more vulnerable. Most of the 1800 Burmese-Chin refugees in Delhi live in overcrowded rooms, have no means to support themselves and are routinely abused and harassed by the locals.

On the other hand, while the Afghan refugees, particularly the Hindu Sikhs, have historical roots here and find it easier to blend in, most Iranians and Iraqis receive financial support from relatives settled in the west. Somalis form a small group in Delhi; most of them prefer to live in Hyderabad where they have a large support structure in the form of religious institutions and a significant African population.

Burmese refugees are mostly settled in West Delhi, an area almost entirely composed of internal refugees and economic migrants who resent the extra pressure on resources and jobs by outsiders. Xenophobia and racism are a fact of life here. Tin Sang, a 34 year old Burmese refugee, was beaten up by a mob, kept in confinement for a day and then handed over to the police. “Woh kuttey khaata hai, colony mein sabkey kuttey khaa raha hai ( He eats dogs. He’s killing the dogs in the colony.)”, they told the police. Verbal and physical abuse of this sort is common in these colonies. Single women escaping rape and torture, are again made victims of sexual harassment in the streets and workplaces.

“I thought India meant democracy and freedom. However, I do not feel free. Only more depressed and exploited”, says Thetta a Burmese Chin refugee. Living in Delhi since 2002, Thetta had to wait a year before getting refugee status. She brings up her three children in a small room in Jivan Bagh. In June 2006, her seven year old daughter, Bawi Lang, was molested and forced into oral sex by her neighbour’s teenage son. She suffers from severe trauma- depression, silence, constantly washing her hands and mouth. Although the police arrested the assailant, a 14 year old boy, they subsequently forced her into a “compromise”. “They said that since the convict is a minor and the son of influential people in the area and that since we are not from here, we should compromise”. After the incident, the hostility towards them increased- people threw garbage at her children, abused them verbally and even beat up her husband. The derogation eventually forced them to shift their home. “Nobody knows our reality”, says Thetta, nearly in tears, “the society and the environment harm us even more”.

Thetta, who was a schoolteacher in Burma, wants to send her daughter to school, to enable her to get over the trauma. However, the small sum that she gets for her childrens education, in addition to the 1300 rupees subsistence allowance and the 3000 that her husband brings home, thanks to the UNHCRs Basic Salary scheme, is barely enough to meet the monthly expenditures. Whatever little is left is spent in buying medicines for her husband.

Most refugees, however, are not fortunate enough to receive these benefits. Budget cuts in the global operations of the UNHCR forced the New Delhi office to gradually withdraw permanent Subsistence Allowance to refugees from 2003. This sparked a row of protests as for many this was the only source of income. Now, Subsistence Allowance is only given for the initial year after refugee status is granted and is revoked thereafter, except in some cases when the UNHCR subjectively considers a person an Extremely Vulnerable Individual-mostly female heads of households, elderly and the disabled.

The UNHCRs mantra for refugees since then has been Self Reliance, a program that they have started in partnership with other NGOs-Don Bosco Ashyalam and YMCA-to provide the refugees with voluntary education and then find suitable jobs for them. Minimum wages are ensured for Burmese refugees by the Basic Salary schemes where the income of maximum two members per family is complemented by the UNHCR to meet the minimum wage levels under Indian law.

Success in the self reliance program is limited, due to some inherent flaws. Lack of a legal status makes economic self sufficiency unrealistic. At the same time, employers are not comfortable hiring refugees. “Most simply do not trust the refugees. They think that they will run away or steal”, says Selin Mathews of Don Bosco Ashyalam. “It takes a lot of convincing. Even my parents sometimes ask me if I wouldn’t rather work for the benefit of Indians”, she adds. While 90% refugees are employed in the informal sector, they cannot negotiate the terms of employment and often find themselves being exploited.

Additionally, the self-reliance program only benefits those who already have some sort of skills. For others, especially the Burmese who mostly come from rural backgrounds, with no knowledge of English or Hindi it is nearly impossible to find a job. Although linguistic and vocational training is provided by partner NGOs, the infrastructure and funds are inadequate to make a real impact.

Hence, for most refugees in Delhi resettlement to a third country is the only viable option for a secure future. This, again, is not guaranteed. It requires third countries to be willing to open their doors to foreign refugees. Despite the recent success of having 200 Afghan refugees resettled in New Zealand, the UNHCR agrees that the prospects of resettlement as a durable solution might be dwindling. “Perceptions are important. Afghans, for example, might be viewed as terrorists by some ignorant people”, says Nayana Bose.

India has consistently maintained that although they have not ratified the 1951 Charter, they have done more than most countries for the benefit of refugees. While this may be true of politically important groups like the Tibetans and the Sri Lankan Tamils, it is akin to adapting an ostrich-like attitude towards refugees of other nationalities. The 1800 Burmese in New Delhi are living an “urban nightmare”. In addition another 50,000 are languishing in the Northeast. By denying refugees legal status and the right to work and refusing to grant UNHCR access to other parts of the country, the government provides a hindrance to any long term solution for their plight.

The apathy of the Indian government is complemented by the inaccessibility of the UNHCR. Meetings with the refugees happen only once a week and it takes months to get replies to letters and applications. The size and diversity of the refugee population in the city, combined with hostile laws, makes effective refugee protection an uphill task. Basic survival is difficult enough for most; the future is but a distant dream.


-by Fahad Mustafa

with Deepti Kakkar

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