Science students remember Moebius strips fondly; odd playful creations, a clever twist and a basic rule of space lies broken. Run your finger along the side and you feel a strange frisson of confirmation—you always knew what would happen, but it’s still strange. Similarly, Giti Thadani sets out on a road trip—and it’s been established that road trips have led to many a fascinating book, a la Blue Highways—but it’s an extraordinary feeling to find one that compels you to leave your seat and hit the highway. Ms. Thadani owns a Maruti Gypsy and she uses it as a two-ton passport to the lesser known vistas of Indian history. In her car, she drifts across the landscapes of India, dipping in and out of histories, meeting the usual panoply of interesting characters, the scoundrels and the dedicated.
Few persons are likely to have done more reading of the books on South India written during the colonial period than Kavita Watsa. Intelligently selecting from that reading, she combines her selections with perceptive observations made on journeys through South India as well as in places she has called home during a young life spent on much moving about. This happy mixture she spices with nostalgia, anecdote and sentiment, certainly biographical but never allowing her persona to overwhelm the narration. The result is one of the most charming travel books by an Indian author that I have read.
Twenty-one million people spread over 110 countries with an estimated combined income of US$160 billion. So goes the statistics of the Indian origin people world over. A lot has been written on their success stories in the respective host countries. The book under review is one such, but with a difference. The difference is, not words, but pictures, that are doing the narrative of the travails of the Indian origin people in Sri Lanka. More than 300 pictures, painfully compiled by the author, fill as many numbers of pages.
The famous Chinese pilgrim Xuanzang (more familiar in India in the old transliteration Hiuen Tsang) has left a deep imprint on his own country, on India where his journey led him, and on several lands in between. He was a profoundly significant figure of his time, an elevated spirit of unmatched learning and unbelievable drive. His determination to learn about Buddhism in its original home sent him along the hazardous overland route to India, a hugely dangerous venture across brigand-infested and barely charted deserts and mountains. So determined was he that he took the grave risk of defying an imperial order that would have confined him to China so as to take his place among a chain of Chinese pilgrims drawn to India. Today, he is acknowledged to be the greatest of them, as scholar, teacher, analyst—and also as folk hero, for his journey inspired the unfading popular Chinese classic The Monkey King which is a story invested with high romance and fantastic adventure, stirring stuff that has delighted audiences for centuries. Xuanzang’s own Record of the Western Regions, written after his return, is an indispensable account of what he saw, a priceless historical source.
There is this charming passage on page 61 of the book where Aurora, recounting the tense and fluid months after the Liberation of Goa, gives us a glimpse into that private world that she and Alban, an IAS officer of the Bihar cadre sent to Goa to help with the transition, had to negotiate. ‘He could sense my personal turmoil and my wistfulness, but to him I was Maria. He has come to know and acknowledge Aurora best perhaps only in the reading of this book. (“Oh no”, he had said when we were engaged to be married, “North India is full of Aroras/Auroras; it is a surname there, and I have a subdivisional officer called Arora. Please, please let me call you Maria. Besides, I cannot even pronounce Aurora the way it should be.”’
American scholarship and policy has traditionally treated India and China as falling within two different geopolitical contexts. In the past decade, US scholarship on China has dealt predominantly with the challenges posed to the US by a rapidly growing Chinese economy and military capability. The main drivers of this US-China relationship were trade, Taiwan, Asia-Pacific and Southeast Asian security issues. On the other hand, scholarship on India has tended to focus on India’s economic potential, its nuclear tests and bilateral relations driven by South Asian geopolitics and nuclear nonproliferation.
Sudarshan Bhutani served as a young officer in the Indian Embassy in Beijing in the years covered in this elegantly written short study of some 215 pages, not including the appendices. It lucidly summarizes the essentials of the India-China border dispute as seen from an Indian perspective, offering a kind of ‘everyman’s guide’ to an issue that must figure as a problem to be resolved, as the two countries move forward in a relationship that has gradually moved beyond that dispute’s legacy of bitterness. The author is scholarly in his tempered comment, and has marshalled a wealth of information from published sources.
On the evening of May 21st I had gone out for dinner after completing a sequence of poems. The last poem was a first draft. I came back and faired it in long hand. It ran: The Messenger Announces At Pasargadae the Terrible News My Lords, both Persian and Mede, rumour precedes horsemen. So I have ridden twenty hours a day to be here amongst you and beat rumour by a length. The army, or its remnants have brought back six kinds of moss, infinite varieties of kelp laughter-leaves which intoxicate when thrown in fire and words of a language looking for a script. And we have brought the body of Cyrus.
The problem of Jammu and Kashmir and of the Kashmir valley in particular, must be the most explored and the most overworked theme in a variety of studies that range from conflict, to nationality and nation, to federalism, to patriotism, to security, to terrorism, to accounts of the Partition, to communal conflict, and to India-Pakistan relations. Looming large over all these scholarly imaginations is the ‘P’ factor—Pakistan, the ‘T’ factor—terrorism, the ‘S’ factor—security, and in the aftermath of 9/11 the ‘I’ factor—Islamic terrorism.
This volume is an edited collection of the papers presented as part of an advanced seminar at the School of American Research, Santa Fe. Margins are normally discussed in terms of a centre but here the perspective is somewhat reversed: margins are not just where the rationalized administrative forms of the state are less effectively represented, but rather practices and policies outside the mainstream that somehow also play a role in constituting the state as a necessary entailment. In this perspective the margin is the exception that proves the rule.
The issue of political obligation has been a central concern of modern political theory. Why should people obey the state? Why should individuals subject themselves to the authority of the sovereign? Early liberal theorists referred to such benefits as, peace, security, freedom, and protection of one’s basic rights, as reasons for abiding by the law promulgated by the sovereign. As the movements for democracy and greater participation gained ground, the nature of sovereign authority and the accountability of the sovereign became the primary concerns. Democracy, it was argued, entailed a limited sovereign: limited by the rights of the citizens and the law of the land.
The idea of this book came to the scholars at the Institute of Women’s Studies (IWS) at the University of Ottawa in the fall of 2000 when the World March for Women was energizing the women’s movement and feminist studies globally. A general call was put out for research papers, without setting any boundaries to the authors as to what and how they should write. The response was enormous. A large number of papers, innovative in the choice of topics and methodology used reached them soon. After an insightful reading of the manuscripts they were sent to Women’s Studies scholars for peer reviewing.