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A collection of poems, ‘Kyun-Dastan Khoj ki’ by author Suraj Singh discusses fundamental aspects of life ranging from wealth to love and friendship. Read on to learn more. 

‘Kyun?- Daastan Khoj Ki’ is a thought-provoking book that delves into the profound question of “why” and its significance in our lives. With a target audience of young adults, college students, and university goers, the book aims to inspire and guide readers as they navigate their aspirational goals and explore the depths of their curiosities.

The book’s investigation of the “why” question is one of its central themes. Although, it encourages readers to contemplate the reasons behind the major aspects of life, invites them to embark on a journey of self-discovery and understanding. And challenges them to seek answers, unravel mysteries, and find their own unique perspectives. The book severely suffers from a lack of coherence and thematic consistency. The poems seem disconnected and randomly placed, making it difficult for readers to find a unifying thread or sense of purpose throughout the collection. The absence of a strong thematic foundation leaves the reader feeling disjointed and disengaged, preventing any meaningful connection with the poetry.

The author, Sooraj Singh, a recent graduate of Hindu College, University of Delhi has demonstrated a empathetic understanding of the target audience, recognizing their aspirations, dreams, and challenges in the book. Through his poems, he aims to inspire and motivate young individuals to question, explore, and pursue their passions.

Additionally, Singh tries to spark readers’ curiosity by incorporating the “why” question throughout the book. This is done in the hopes that the readers’ future endeavors will be guided and shaped by their curiosity. Often times, though, these lines come out as unoriginal and overused, lacking the inventive wording and novel analogies that make poetry engrossing.

In conclusion, “Kyun Dastan Khoj Ki” by Suraj Singh is a good read  for those who enjoy contemplating profound questions and exploring certain aspects of philosophy, but is not recommended for those who are seeking an impactful exploration of Thematically-rich Hindi poetry.

DU Beat

Over the last decade streaming has changed the industry, some for the good and some for the bad. But its current model isn’t entirely sustainable.

On 16th February 2012, a show called Lilyhammer was launched on Netflix, becoming the  first original series to stream on the service. Back then the number of subscribers Netflix had was reportedly 23 million. As of the first quarter of 2023, the number had jumped to 232.5 million. An increasing  number of streaming platforms have emerged since then, taking over the industry, like Amazon Prime Video(reported to have more than 200 million subscribers in 2021), Apple TV+ (25 million subscribers as of March 2022) and Disney+ (157.8 million subscribers as in the second quarter of 2023). Now, you didn’t have to for a week to watch the next episode of your favourite at the preordained time of the telecast. You could now watch while travelling to work on a metro or even while taking the dump. And who wouldn’t take that bargain.

This shift within the industry happening for years now was only accelerated by the COVID-19 lockdown, with studios pivoting towards streaming. Hunkered in their houses, all people could go was bake endless loafs of sourdough or binge The Queen’s Gambit(that is when they were not binging any other show with royalty in its title-The Tiger King or The Crown). Even after the reopening of movie-theatres, the focus has remained on streaming, with many films including the The Fabelsman and Glass Onion, getting limited theatrical release before being made available online. It’s effects are a mixture of good and bad for the creatives. While it has gotten harder to commission content, these services do back up projects that perhaps would not have been picked by the traditional networks and studios, including the wide range of foreign-language TV and movie that are starting to get more global attention. This period of rise in streaming also heralded the era of Peak TV, where viewers were inundated with artisanal and critically acclaimed programming. The number of originally scripted stories exploded from 210 in 2009 to 599 in 2022. But it was a bubble that was bound to burst and now has.

In April 2022, Netflix announced that it had lost subscribers. The recent downturn in the media has forced streamers to cut back on the spending and turn a profit. They have thrown out entire series from their libraries and some have even cancelled shows that had finished productions on entire seasons. And the effects on the creative labour has been damaging.

On April 18 this year, 97.8% of the members of the Writers Guild of America voted to go on strike if they failed to reach a satisfactory agreement with the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers. On May 2, 2023 the members of the guild started picketing at 1:00 pm. The main issues raised in the strike are of diminishing residuals, fewer number of writers in the room and fear of being replaced by AI.

The rise of streaming has led creation of mini-rooms where fewer number of writers are employed for shorter durations, eviscerating chances for writers to make a steady living by working on a show. It has also reduced the opportunities available to younger and newer talent to gain experience. It has alarmed the creatives further with reduction of residuals over the years. As streamers have grown, the residuals have fallen. While they are still paid residuals, they are incomparable to the ones they receive from TV channels. Sean Collins Smith, a writer for Chicago P.D, while talking to NPR said,

“I mean, my show on streaming, if I got a residual check for that-I’m not even kidding-it might be $5, $50, $100 if that.”

Despite it all, streaming also led to some of biggest strides in the industry, giving a platform to diverse and newer voices, that  used to get drowned out by the old status quo. The solution to the problems created by streaming cannot be to go back to old ways despite how much the older established artists might like to throw around the term “back in our day” before regaling about the “glory days”. But the streaming model being followed right now is clearly unsustainable. The writer’s strike has been going on for 2 months now and is showing no sign of stopping. In June, more than 300+ members of SAG-AFTRA, including A-listers such as Meryl Streep and Jennifer Lawrence, in a letter to union leadership said that they were ready to strike if a “transformative deal” was reached.

Julie Plec, creator of The Vampire Diaries, told Vulture,

“It’s not like just returning to the old status quo is the answer. We’re at the center of the tornado right now, and it seems like it’s whipping all around us, and I don’t think anybody really understands how to make it stop.”

 

Read Also: DUB Review: Succession – Bad People Make Good TV

Image Source: The Hindu

Vanshika Ahuja

[email protected]

An ultra-rich backdrop, razor sharp dialogue, and stellar acting is what makes Succession the gold standard for television right now.

 

Jesse Armstrong’s multiple-Emmy winning series has a deceptively simple premise – the patriarch of media conglomerate Waystar RoyCo is ageing and must choose an heir to his business empire. Thus, the stage is set for an endless game of musical chairs between his children for the throne – power-hungry Kendall, derisive Roman, politically-savvy Shiv and estranged oldest son Connor. Power-struggles, corporate backstabbing and constant plotting ensues between the siblings and a host of well-fleshed out and complicated side characters who form the heart of the show throughout its four-season run.

Succession’s portrayal of the wealthy and influential is both captivating and horrifying. ‘Multi-faceted’ is one way to describe the narcissistic and money-obsessed characters who reek of upper-class privilege and can manipulate the course of the nation as per their whims and fancies. Yet, despite the absolutely vile character arcs, it is impossible not to root for them in their achingly-tender moments of humanity. This is a testament to the masterclass in acting done by the ensemble of actors who deliver the show’s signature sharp and biting dialogue to perfection. There is something revolting yet fascinating in the obscene, and hilariously vulgar lines.

Besides the personal narratives of each character, the show also provides insightful commentary on wider social issues such as influence of media and technology on society, politics, culture, and identity. It calls out the power-mongering and under the table lifestyle of the luxurious. Familial influences and power structures dictate the living of the top 1%. This adds a fresh layer of analysis to the already complex individual storylines, making the show a wonderful mix of satire and insight on capitalism and American corporatism.

Exceptional locations, cinematography, background scores and production value – the hits keep coming. The glorious theme song (this plays in my head 24/7 on repeat) and opening credits hook you in for a wildly funny, tragic and jaw-dropping ride. The music perfectly captures the mood of the show – sinister, dark and greedy but whimsical when need be. Another standout is the work of the costumes department. The lack of ostentatious displays of wealthy but quiet luxury at its finest where a single cap costs millions of dollars is an absolute stroke of genius. The symbols of wealth like the fleet of black SUVs, the helicopters, the elaborate real estate and the constant entourage just add to the sensory delight of the show.

Succession is a much watch for fans of pitch-black comedy and suspense. It is a gift that keeps giving and the fascinating character-driven plot keeps you hooked despite your utter disgust for the characters. After all, the ultimate question remains – who shall be the successor and nab the top job?

Come for the family and corporate intrigue, stay for the absolute finest filmmaking seen in recent times. Be right back, going to make Nicholas Britell’s Succession theme song my new ringtone.

Feature Image Source: Pinterest

Read Also: Film Criticism: Of Subjectivity and Stars

Bhavya Nayak

[email protected]

 

A 19-year-old student from the University of Delhi was allegedly stabbed to death outside of Aryabhatta College.

 

On Sunday, in front of Aryabhatta College in South Campus, a 19-year-old Delhi University student, named Nikhil Chauhan,  was allegedly stabbed to death. A week ago, one of the accused had allegedly harassed a woman friend of the victim, to which he had objected, said a senior police officer in conversation with The Hindu.

On Sunday, around 12:30 pm, the key accused and three of his accomplices met with Nikhil outside the College and stabbed him in the chest, the police stated. He was later rushed to the Charak Palika Hospital, where he was declared dead. CCTV footage has surfaced online, which, captured near the college, purportedly showed the accused escaping on scooters and a bike.

While talking to The Hindu, Nikhil’s father had this to say

We deserve justice, this is not what we send our children to school for.” He further stated, “I received a call at 12 p.m. that Nikhil has been injured, I rushed to the hospital, but by the time I reached, he passed away.”

The victim, who has been survived by his two brothers and parents who live in West Delhi’s Paschim Vihar, worked as a part-time model. His parents have said that he loved modelling and acting, taking part in many competitions in the city.

My son was also into modelling. He told me that he also wants to study political science to have vast knowledge about our country. He had a bright future. We don’t know what to do now,”

– said Mr Chauhan.

A case under IPC 302(murder) has been registered and an investigation is ongoing to apprehend the accused-who have been identified, the police have said.

“It is very unfortunate and sad that a young life has been lost and that also just outside the college where students come to learn and make career.”  said a Delhi University spokesperson in a statement to The Hindu.

 

Feature Image Source: DU Beat Archives

Read Also: Mismanagement and Arbitrary Decisions taken at Meghdoot Hostel

Vanshika Ahuja

[email protected]

 

The residents of Meghdoot Hostel have expressed dismay upon their living conditions and have alleged that various arbitrary decisions have been taken by the authorities. The accusations have mostly been levelled against the former provost of the Hostel, Dr Pratibha Mehta Luthra, who has reportedly recently retired from her Hostel duties.  

Meghdoot Hostel is one of the two University hostels for women in North Campus. It primarily admits masters and PhD students. It has been reported that after the pandemic, quite a few hostels were not well equipped to take in fresh students. In Meghdoot Hostel most students were admitted as guest residents and were asked to pay a higher fee. It has been alleged that there was complete lack of transparency in the admission process. The basis on which students were admitted into the hostel is unclear and whether university guidelines were followed is in question. Reportedly, a disproportionately high number of science students, particularly students from Dr B.R. Ambedkar Center for Biomedical Research – the institution in which the former provost is a faculty member-were given permanent seats.

Students who were not given a permanent seat were asked to vacate on a short notice. Those who were about to complete their courses requested for brief extensions so that they could be allowed to stay at the hostel until the completion of their courses. Most of these requests were denied. Asking students to vacate their rooms on a short notice caused immense disruption as many of them did not have any other place to stay.

“My dissertation submission was on the 15th of June. I simply needed a 15-day extension. My application for extension was approved by the Department Head as well. Yet, the provost denied me an extension and refused to listen to my concerns” – a former resident of the hostel who wishes to remain anonymous

The former provost had reportedly undertaken the task of establishing a Saraswati idol in the Hostel premises. While the hostel often fell short of ensuring basic necessities for the residents, it was alleged that a considerable amount of the funds was spent in the establishment and maintenance of the idol. Multiple Hindu religious events such as havans and pujas were organised and it has been alleged that the students were coerced to participant in them. However, this has been refuted by a resident who stated that although religious gatherings and events were organised, attending them was a matter of choice. After the establishment of the idol, the hostel authorities stopped non-vegetarian food from being served in the mess. When this decision was met with complaints, the provost reportedly reasoned that non-vegetarian food cannot possibly be allowed in the hostel premises as the piety of the space had to be maintained due to the presence of the idol.

“We were repeatedly asked to participate in the events organised by the hostel. We were told that non participation in these events would affect our applications for permanents seats. Women from all over the country, from diverse cultures and different faiths, reside in our hostel. They were all asked to attend havans early in the morning. The prejudice that the provost had was very evident. – a resident of Meghdoot hostel who requested to remain anonymous

DU Beat contacted the members of the managing committee and the former provost to respond to the allegations.

“Thank you for kindly communicating with me on the matter. I held a meeting with the students on 2nd June 2023 in the matter. The response from them has been communicated to the management committee. Everything has been done as per rule and based on the request from the students.”  – Dr Pratibha Mehta Luthra, Provost, Meghdoot Hostel

Reportedly a new provost has been appointed to the hostel. The students hope that their concerns are taken care of with greater sincerity in future.

Featured image credits: Joon Square

Read also – https://dubeat.com/2023/04/30/lsr-hostel-student-suffers-injuries-after-ceiling-collapse/

DU Beat

DU has launched three new B. Tech courses under the Faculty of Technology from the upcoming academic session, 2023-24, added with several benefits and incentives from supernumerary seats for single girl child to reimbursements upon purchasing laptops.

The University of Delhi besides introducing three B. Tech courses- namely, B. Tech Computer Science and Engineering, B. Tech Electronics and Communication Engineering, and B. Tech Electrical Engineering- is also offering several incentives along with the programmes. Supernumerary seats for single girl child, scholarships for underprivileged students, and laptops for all are some of those incentives, as underlined by Vice-Chancellor Yogesh Singh on Wednesday.

Addressing a press conference, the Vice-Chancellor also mentioned that the new academic session shall begin on August 16. Expanding more upon the B. Tech programmes, he went on to add that 360 students would be admitted to the engineering curriculum, with 120 seats in each course while a seat in each of these three programmes will be given to a single girl child in the form of a supernumerary seat. Moreover, every student enrolled in B. Tech will be reimbursed up to Rs. 50,000 on the purchase of a laptop.

He said that the University will also introduce a Financial Support Scheme (FSS) to extend the benefits of equity and access to quality education to economically weaker students seeking admission to BTech programmes. Under this, candidates whose parents’ income is Rs. 4 lakh or less will be given a 90 percent fee waiver at the time of admission while candidates whose parents’ income is more than Rs. 4 lahks and less than Rs. 8 lahks will get a 50 percent fee waiver at the time of admission. The University has also included a supernumerary quota for orphan students this year.

The B. Tech programmes would be designed in such a manner that there would be a minimum of 50 percent weightage given to the major subject area of study with a maximum of 65 percent weightage. The remaining weightage would be to the minor subject areas of study, the Vice-Chancellor added.

Not only that, students will have several exit options with the National Education Policy. Students who will have completed one year of study with requisite credits will be awarded a certificate, those with two years and requisite credits would be provided with a diploma, those with three years and requisite credits will be granted an advanced diploma while those completing all four years of study along with a proper number of credits will get a B. Tech degree.

Lastly, the Vice-Chancellor mentioned that the Faculty of Technology will be situated on the North Campus of DU for logistic support and proximity to other departments. Besides the B. Tech courses, the university will also be launching a five-year LLB programme along with ITEP courses from the upcoming academic year.

Featured Image Credits: DU Beat Archives

Read Also: DU to Conduct PhD Admissions via CUET from Academic Year 2023-24

Priyanka Mukherjee

[email protected]

The festival of Durga Puja is not just a celebration of the homecoming of the goddess but also a cultural bonhomie, celebrating art of all sorts. Read on for more.

 Durga Puja or as we bengalis fondly call it pujo, is probably the greatest celebration of art Calcutta sees on an annual basis. There might be special art drives in the Lake area where people end up drawing twelve feet long alponas (the bengali version of rangoli but done with ground rice paste traditionally) and bizarrely absurd, politically provocative graffitis on walls along the Jadavpur campus and other upcoming up-market cafe areas. There is also the latest mandatory tourist spot – the Old Currency Building, now turned into a three floor specially curated celebration of the Bengal School of Art – from colonial times to independent India. But none of these sporadic clusters exemplify the community euphoria in viewing and consuming art the way pujo does.

It is a cultural whirlpool. Turn a corner and you will see an entire alley, otherwise dingily darkened – now turned bright and dreamy with a canopy of yellow fairy lights hanging overhead. A few more turns and you will see a variation of the same display of luminosity in terms of a street where the lights are now multi-coloured and are strung together vertically, on either side of the road. As you make your way through, it is not just a simple lane you are walking through any more. It is like walking into the dreamscape of your unposted letters of love, now strung together in the form of a million glistening light orbs. But the magicality of the moment I described – nowhere near the actual experience because pujo as a festival can only be felt – is exemplified further in areas with the bigger pandals and celebrations where the canopy is no longer just strings of light bound together. But an entire canopy put together in glorious designs and colours. You are no longer in a street you have traversed all year round. It is a tunnel of a fantasy land from another world, which self activates every year briefly and disappears – only to appear bigger and brighter the next year.

Who is the sculptor of this figure? Did this club change their usual guy? Is Sanantan Dinda doing Naktala this year or did Chetla Agrani buy him out? Why did they have to distort the face thus? Doesn’t she look too angry in this one?

 A cacophony of voices asking the same questions together. Having spent so many years in the city and vehemently holding my ground before parents who would have much preferred to go on a holiday – far removed from the nauseating sweat and crowd infestations of the festival – I like many others have become quite familiar with the varied sculptural styles we see our idols built in. Kumortuli or the Potter’s Colony is the stuff of absolute photo stories across the world.

But the potters or sculptors as I prefer calling them, who spend their many years under makeshift shacks in the midst of floodwater and mud, have their own distinctive styles and contributions to the evolution of the festival as a whole. The traditional yellow face of the goddess with long draw, darkly lined eyes is still to be seen in many places, but in the larger discourse of the creation of idols, it has give way to the more humanist thickly eyelash-ed faces of the Rudra Pal brothers – who now are at the receiving end of commissions from the biggest clubs in the city.

Thousands of people flock every year to see these idols, which although unchanged in their style have served to give vision to the popular imagination of what the goddess looks like. Their figures are adorned in the traditional golden foil called the daaker shaaj or the ornament that came by post (the foil used to be imported from Germany at one point) or the pristine white of the sholaar shaaj or the ornamentation made from thermocol. Art historians will never consider this but the potters of Calcutta are the true holders of the legacy of Ravi Varma, the first Indian to give face to our gods. But even beyond these traditional portrayals there are daring artists like Bhashkar Sur and Sanatan Dinda, all exemplary modern artists in their own right who come up with visualisations of the goddess figure in accordance with the theme of the club they are hired by that year.

Which brings me to the next big thing about pujo in my city – the theme. Much before people even start their shopping for the festival, posters and advertisements proudly announcing the themes for each individual club go around the city. People sitting huddled in autos are found discussing-

Did you hear Chetla Agrani is going to be doing something based on Kalidasa? But I really liked what Bosepukur did last year- though I am not sure if I completely understood it – did you? I do not know about the rest but I am most definitely going to go to Sreebhumi first – haven’t you heard they are doing Burj Khalifa this year?

 I have been to galleries and seen art installations and then I have attended Durga Pujo in my city. If cities could be works of art then the thousand and more pujos spread across the length and breadth of the city are the many brush strokes and colour splashes on its expanding canvas. I have seen, within two months or sometimes three, artists and workers make an entire temple structure out of steel utensils. Award winning clubs which have conjured simply out of nowhere temple structures out of – wait for it- knit grass blades. But this is not just a celebration of empty art. This art is deeply political too. Many high concept pujos find people crowding the exit area poring over long standees explaining the concept of the theme and the decoration people just saw. For there are clubs standing in solidarity with the farmer’s protest – with massive installations of feet joined together and the blisters resembling melting faces of the heroes we will never know. Some turn an entire lane into a brothel with extra figures of women waiting for customers and finally leading upto the room of the brothel madame who sits there protecting them all – envisioned in the form of the goddess. But sometimes in the hands of a different artist, she takes the shape of a migrant woman – carrying her four children sitting on the back of a truck, her third eye glaring at you in the face.

During Durga Pujo, my city is an open art gallery with its people turning from one lane to another partaking in and bringing to life the glorious art on display.

 Anwesh Banerjee
[email protected]

 A nerd’s deeply personal take on social media vilification of the nerd archetype across pop-culture . Read on for more. 

Humour is tricky business. Tracing back to the rasa theories of sentiments and emotions, every humour has an origin and the origin of our laughter too can be traced to different causalities. It can either be sourced as a something that makes us laugh through the display of deviance in an attempt to domesticate something that is wrong with society, or in what I wish to term as humour of a low order, it can emerge from a need to make a standing example of a non-conforming entity, who happens to stick out due to a deviance inherent to their character.

Such humouring of identities of “other” often unconsciously result in vilification of archetypes in popular culture which fuels social media content which on the grounds of generating humour to run their dubious algorithms end up putting on sacrificing social responsibility at the altar of parodying the non-conformist – in the case of this article the figure of the nerd. The nerd figure has long been relegated to a realm of marginality in popular imagination, one which has resulted in social media content creators to repeatedly generate humour at their cost. The normalisation of the same has become so exceedingly widespread that the archetype of the nerd figure now borders on the level of almost being a villain despised by one and all.

Take for example the widely popular film from recent years of Indian cinema – 3 Idiots. The supposedly antagonist in the film is the typical nerd figure as seen through the character of Chatur Ramalingam is repeatedly made to be the butt end of jokes due for no fault of his. He simply has a vision of academic achievement which is not in concurrence with that of the protagonist and in order to prove the point of the protagonist the nerd figure is not only made an example of the in the most vile ways possible but also made to take part in one of the most insensitive dramatisations of a rape joke in recent cinema history. Even in a film like Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani or something as cult as Kal Ho Na Ho the heroines are nerds who have their hair tied in buns and wear glasses and spend their days engrossed in books and academia. In order for them to be desirable by the hero, they have to shed their persona of the “typical nerd” and have hair flowing, while sequin dresses grace their lithe bodies. There is no room here for appreciation of a life spent behind the pursuit of knowledge – be it out of individual will or out of societal pressure, a deeply pertinent argument which is often relegated to non-existence.

Social media pages dedicated to generating humour based out of educational spaces and the lives of people involved in academia thrive on humour which emerges at the expense of nerd archetypes. Meme carousels take great pride in criticising students who spend hours devoted to studying and suffer from severe bouts of depression and performance anxiety by reducing their issues to the simplistic phrase – they are a topper and they always lie about the preparation. The truth of the after more often than not is different. The idea of the nerd as someone who deliberately gaslights their own readiness in order to feed off the mediocrity of others is a problem which completely exterminates the immense expectations – familial, societal and professional – the students have to cater to. To be someone who chooses to win and internalises winning comes at the cost of knowing that one is consciously ascribing an identity of marginality to oneself – an ascribing which should be free of any sort of shame or stigma.

Such humour further perpetuates a cycle whereby these students not only end up doubting their own self worth but are never allowed to take pride in what they believe to be a philosophy of life that must be adhered to. Humour for the sake of entertainment is of course something that should be and must be encouraged. But humour that is indulged in without realising the exact impact it has on marginal identities in society is something that should be shunned especially in our largely current virtual world where a single meme transcends time and space and more often than not does more harm than good when left unchecked.

Anwesh Banerjee

[email protected]

A deeply personal essay on the degree about to be gone past, and a final attempt at courting the essay form and being the Joan Didion of DU Beat one last time.

It has been three years. Let that sink in first.

Three years ago the world around us was struck by what will go down in history as a life-halting and soul-sucking pandemic. Freshly off my board examinations, like all students from my batch, I had dreams of making it big in this world. I too thought a liberal arts degree would equip me with words that would have the power to change the world around me and albeit propel me eventually towards a career in the liberal arts. However, the sudden imposition of the pandemic which immediately drove us within the four walls of our house seemed to indicate that I need to reconsider these choices.

At a time when my family was mourning for loved ones lost to the pandemic and finances seemed precariously perched, the obvious decision for me would have been to stick to a college in Kolkata, my hometown – and why not? There was an entire pool of prestigious institutions for me to choose from and one could always pick up the dream of moving out of your hometown for one’s postgraduate studies. To avoid giving my parents and family members weekly bouts of anxiety I even enrolled in a Kolkata college but everyone around me knew that my heart was not there. After a six month long wait that felt like an eternity when I got the merit list making it evident that I had indeed made it to one of the leading North Campus colleges in a degree I have wanted to pursue from the day I could think, I knew this was a decision I had to make. Back then, everyone around me seemed hesitant – is it really necessary? What was I trying to prove? But my guts said otherwise.

A year of online classes and two years of being in Delhi later, I am glad I stood my ground that night. Coming to the University of Delhi has not been the sweetest of experiences, but the bitterness that underlines this has now started lifting its head up in the form of a sweet melancholic nostalgia. With thirty days left for this degree to end, I look back on the years gone by and the moments of euphoria and heartbreak. I then look at the mirror (and trust me as a literature student freshly off Lacan that is difficult) and realise the person, or subject (yes I will crack Literature major jokes) is barely the lanky, long-haired boy who stepped into this institution so many moons back.

For one, this University puts you in place. And for good. Especially for a city-bred, English-educated man like me, buzz words like “Unity in Diversity” and “caste masquerading as class” became stark realities. Thrown into a liminal campus space where people of a host of disparate cultures not only lived together but often came into violent conflict with each other was a lesson in life. The spurious nature of identity politics left a stark impression upon me and while multiple friends and lovers became alien overnight, in the by-lanes of Gupta Chowk and Jawahar Nagar, I found my greatest lessons in kindness and empathy. You could be sharing a small plate of Malabar Biryani in Cafe Lucid all by yourself and the person sharing the table with you, suddenly strikes up a conversation and before you know it you have made a friend for the next set of semesters to come. You might be strolling down the ridge on a sultry evening and you will chance upon the sight of two lovers stealing moment, and you silently smile to yourself for this moment of rare affection that wasn’t yours to begin with you — but now is, because moments are meant to be borrowed and loaned, till you find yours.

During my tenure as an author for DU Beat, I have written on a wide range of subjects – ranging from student politics to cinema. But the one thing that I have continued advocating for and writing about relentlessly is issues pertaining to queerness and the queer experience. And on that note, in this final piece of mine, I wish to mention something. Loneliness is one of the biggest problems plaguing every student who lives on this campus on a daily basis. It is divorced from alone-ness and it is something that operates at a structural level. Its violence is less performative from the stone-pelting in protest marches and its cure amorphous. In fleeting moments it buries itself in the fists raised to the chant of azaadi and under the varying colours of the Pride flag. But it raises its uncanny head on metro rides where you see a stranger taking glitter off their jaws with tears in eyes and the person in tattered cargos as they scour your canteen for the millionth time with pamphlets people will stamp over in seconds.

The University of Delhi, and I never thought I would say this, is a family. Yes, because families are spaces with imbalance power dynamics. If there is anything I have learnt from these three arduous years it is this, there is nothing greater in this world than your truth and you alone and speak the same (Foucault says hello at this point) . If you choose to let this university teach you anything then let it be the urgent need and the requisite power required to speak this truth and claim your space. Be it a battle of queering the space, or gendering the discourse, or dismantling caste hierarchies. This is a place, and you belong, let no one tell you otherwise. For the ones who think the reality of the world begins when you step out of the bubble of your college, you are wrong. Aren’t you the real world in all earnest?

 

Anwesh Banerjee

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A non-resident Bengali relative of mine groaned to me on call, how he scarcely felt Saraswati Puja this year. Something seemed off, he complained. I don’t think anything was off, just that the sedentary yet meditative festival somehow got ferociously conflated into the pompous celebrations of Repubic Day this year, I chimed in with my know-it-all voice. But I was not entirely wrong in drawing this connection. Saraswati Puja or Vasant Panchami, has always been a massive cultural celebration in Bengal. Every year beyond this annual ritual of worshipping and invoking this (Brahminical) Hindu Goddess of Knowledge, Bengali students across ages are supposed to dress up in colours of Spring – yellow, ochre, orange, red, blue and the likes. It is a day dedicated to eating khichudi and begun bhaja, praying for academic wisdom and most importantly going on dates with your romantic interests.

The origins of the concept of vasant panchmi as the “Bengali Valentine’s Day” is something that is a futile exercise in the labyrinthine annals of Time. The cultural construct of this festival is now unquestioned and widely embraced and celebrated. This day, in the early morning cold breezes of January, the city wistfully turns into a liminal space of sanctioned transgressions. The best, and often most provocative, pieces of traditional finery are donned. The greys and greens of schools give way to loud pinks and bright reds of lipsticks which are hidden in purses – stolen the previous night from the mother’s dresser. Blisters from wearing forbidden heels are hardly any price for a day spent in the company of your lover, giggling your way through sidewalks and standing outside already-full-at-10-in-the-morning bars across Park Street and Quest Mall.

This year, after a brief annual hiatus, I had the fortune of being in Kolkata again for the occasion. But even as my mother rudely awakened me from my sleep to help her with preparations, an early morning disoriented me found myself almost unconsciously drawing himself to the television set first, switching on Doordarshan and sitting down brush in hand to see the live telecast from Raj- oops, Kartavya Path. The conflation of a day which, all my woke understandings of nationhood and patriotism notwithstanding, had been carefully constructed to invoke feelings of patriotic fervour in my heart somehow felt at an alien odd with the other natural emanating sense of desire and youthful fervour for this annual celebration of springtime extravagance. As post-colonial queer subjects in a world where ideas of the post-nation are at their highest, where does one erase the line between multiple registers of desire? Is militantly performed desire for the historically amenisa-inducing nation anyway similar to the exhaustive desires of love on display on this singular day? Are all desires essentially linked to performance and demonstration? If so then what about lonelinessand its performance? How do you navigate the contours of that?

 

As I sat in the backseat of my cab in the evening of the same day, on my way to airport to catch a flight back to Delhi in time for the 8:30 AM class the next day, I found myself unconsciously smiling at the familiar of sight of multiple young girls and boys in love – or atleast pretending to be in love. All my school days, before the pandemic took away from me the privilege (I use this word fully aware of its connotations) of attending college in person, I had been a blessed witness to the Saraswati Puja romances of my friends. The month-long plans, the carefully colour coordinated outfits, the lies told at home, the multiple tuition places to hop onto under the excuse of attending the “puja”, the innocent grazing of the fingers and the final stretch of weeping from the blisters on the ankle – I have seen it all. At twenty-one years of age, that day when I whirled past these young hearts in love at the very peak of springtime, I pondered a few moments over the politics of performing a love that is qeer. What would it mean for young girls or boys or gender non-conforming minorities to be out there, on this same day, hands clasped and in love? Would this liminal temporal space of the city embrace their transgression as willingly as it did of their heterosexual counterparts? Especially in the context of this year’s festival, in the occurrence of such a rare conflated oddity, what would one make of surveilling love in a Nation State that is increasingly intolerant towards delinquent expressions of desire?

As I sat on my aircraft, pondering about the many like me who must have spent lonely festivals of love for years on end, I found myself wishing if this Valentine’s Day our markets would perhaps for once sell not love but a soothener to the itchy aesthetics of structural loneliness.

 

Anwesh Banerjee

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