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The 3 P’s of DU Life: Pyaar, Padhai, and Politics

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The three P’s of Student Life of DU- Pyaar, Padhai, and Politics are quite diverse topics on their
own. DU isn’t solely about studies, romance, or political life. It is a synthesis of all of them based on personal preferences.

I was reminded by one of my professors that student life is about the three Ps: Pyaar, Padhai, and Politics, with each student finding their own specific niche. The relationship between DU and its students has even more P’s – Parampara, Pratishtha alongside the former three, but what blends the students’ relationship with the varsity is Pain. Pyaar, Padhai, and Politics are three unique aspects of the life of a DU student. These are three chariots leading the students into their own but different pathways.

The academic life of a DU student is two-fold. Thousands and thousands migrate from their cities and states for receiving their degrees from the most prestigious colleges in the country, but only after coming here do they realize that the external perception of the varsity being only about studies is perturbed by the dawn that majority of the students here lose their academic concerns after the 1 st semester. Students come all dressed up, tidy and neat with books equivalent to the weight of a schoolbag, making it into libraries after regular classes in the freshman year. Then there are also the students who’ve enrolled themselves into a bunch of societies exude all strengths of their bodies and minds, but still turn up to class. Another section straightaway starts going places, exploring the newfound freedom barely showing up to their professors. Slowly as the years pass, classrooms get more empty, and similar to how folks shed their tidy clothes to fit into comfy Pajamas, the Society kids lose their balls of energy to attend classes after hectic running around, practicing, etc tasks. Even the studious UPSC aspirants start skipping college to attend coaching and self-study. Honestly, their stance makes sense as well. Once I eavesdropped on a conversation between two guys in my PG. One was saying, “You know, the real experience of college life comes from having new experiences, not from the routine existence of waking up at 8 in the morning to coming back at 4ish.”

As for examinations, ( most) DU Students don’t study every day but only before the exams. And the outcomes are not that bad, some even went on to be Gold Medalists in the past. It doesn’t mean people don’t study at all. Academics is what generally isn’t preferred much here. People strive to finish analyzing what topic they’re interested in.

“Pyaar” is another aspect that often lingers in discussions about college life. Especially at DU having places like “Lovers Spot” nurtures the cocooned new romantics inside students. The cycle of breaking free from strict authority at home, fuelled by unrealistic expectations from movies, especially Bollywood, creates musings for the new romantics. Also, college is the closest equivalent to the perfect American high school dream for Indian students. Many do find love here, many break up, and some even make it beyond the boundaries of graduation. Most importantly, it is more of a realization that the perfect fairytale love story is next to uncommon in real life and that relationships do require effort, work, space, and understanding (The Katy Perry Way).

When I was a little girl I used to read fairy tales. In fairy tales, you meet Prince Charming and he’s everything you ever wanted. In fairy tales, the bad guy is very easy to spot. The bad guy is always wearing a black cape so you always know who he is. Then you grow up and you realize that Prince Charming is not as easy to find as you thought. You realize the bad guy is not wearing a black cape and he’s not easy to spot; he’s really funny, and he makes you laugh, and he has perfect hair.

Taylor Swift

 

During my first month in Delhi, an acquaintance of mine said, “Being in a relationship helps fill the void of loneliness and mechanical busyness of life here.” Everyone has a different perspective on love. Clearly, if it’s positive for you, then go for it. But immature relationships often culminate into a lot of hurts when combated.

College politics of DU is a topic of interest, fear, hesitation, and passion for many. The first place
where students get the opportunity to explore their political self to those who come solely for political purposes, assuming positions of power and battling ideologies. Staging protests and raising concerns, is regarded as a vital stage of vigilance by them. There are again people who have ideologies and views on national concerns but do not like to muddle in violent politics for the same. Protesting against unjust and unfair steps taken by the administration, and violence faced by students, this is an essential cry for justice, but not everyone is motivated by the love of justice. Some use these topics as matters of splattering mud over others and clout chasing.

The politics of DU is messy, complicated with unknown motivations and often takes over the education and academics of DU. The threat to being neutral is a lingering question that is quite
debatable. Often, peaceful protests turn into rigorous ones. Even a small infiltration leads to a huge mess—the involvement of cops, media, etc. But for a good cause, it exposes the faulty administration oftentimes. And then there is election politics wherein candidates go to unmeasured lengths to appear as a whitewashed version of the perfect one. The unfiltered side is often motivated by the lust for power, a really positive element turned negative.

The three aspects of student life at DU aren’t completely negative or positive and one isn’t superior to the other. There is a fourth P that lingers around all the former P’s. That is – Pain. The pain of attending classes and juggling societies, the pain of cramming before exams, of assignment
heartbreak pain, the pain of political failure, etc. Student life is about extracting the best lessons out of these.

 

Read Also :Romanticising Short Term Romance and Friendships

Featured Image Credits: Medium

 

Hritwik Pratim Kalyan

[email protected]

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Features

The Unpleasant Experience of Being a Female Student Journalist

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What is it like to be a female student journalist? Is it always dangerous, or can one bypass the gendered prejudices and discrimination? What are the things that make journalism a gendered experience? Female student journalists across the country answer these questions, and more.

Untoward comments, sly taunts, and that nagging feeling of being unsafe –the life of a female student journalist. Student journalism provides exciting opportunities for work experience, but the female experience is often undermined and disregarded. That the ‘second sex’ faces discrimination, harassment, and prejudice stemming from patriarchy is evident in the numerous instances reported in the news. A greater number of such reports, however, die unknown, due
to the fears and social stigma that surround them.

Watching, reading, and listening about such instances generates a psychological fear that can be
extremely disempowering. It’s almost as if you know beforehand that you will be treated differently because of your gender. For most of us, this unfortunate reality gradually sinks
in. The eventual acceptance of the fact that your work as a journalist will come with an unwanted package of sexism is perhaps the saddest part. DU Beat spoke to female student journalists across the country, and this article is an attempt to give them agency and acknowledge their struggles.

The first thing that most journalists mentioned while researching for this article was time. Working at odd hours is a major limiting factor on every female journalist’s mind. Returning home after covering events, fests and seminars at night can be daunting, especially in cities
like Delhi, where women’s safety is a persistent fear.

Since it is a time sensitive job, we must be on the go constantly. Safety is a big issue. My parents were initially very against me joining a media outlet since it involved going out in the late evenings. Being a student, you need to balance time with your studies as well, and being a woman, with the hundred other kinds of work and duties society expects you to perform. I used to feel quite odd travelling by metro at odd hours and being at fests at night. It can be a thrilling experience, but there is this constant fear at the back of your head that something can, at any time, go wrong.

shared an anonymous journalist

The hesitation of getting quotes for a news report from men was also something most female journalists said they tried to avoid.

I have thankfully never faced any sort of gender discrimination directly being a female journalist, but that is also because I try to never put myself in that position in the first place. I am very wary of men in general, and more comfortable getting quotes from women, if I am
honest. Fellow student journalists have said that many people can be creepy when it comes to giving quotes. They might harass you even after you have completed your professional
conversation.

A female student journalist studying in Lady Shri Ram College for Women commented

Covering and reporting student politics is also, unfortunately, a gendered experience. The rough
world of politics can be tougher for female journalists to navigate.

I feel like I have faced more problems not because I am a student journalist but because I’m a female student journalist. Perhaps the biggest hurdle is contacting political parties for quotes. The biggest concern is safety. As a woman, you are stuck in a messy situation where your contact is being shared with the world. I know a lot of female student journalists who have gotten bullied or harassed while trying to report a situation. Since we do this work in good faith, it feels sad when you hear about such instances. I spoke to a member of an organisation once, and later got repeated requests from them on Instagram. It is a weird world out there, and when you are doing such a job, you are exposing yourself more.

lamented yet another female student journalist

Another correspondent highlighted how her decision to report a piece of news led to her staying indoors for a week for safety reasons.

There are always times when you hesitate to ask quotes from student political organisations. I was very sceptical about asking them for quotes since they are known for looking your name up on social media and sending unsolicited messages. Once a report I wrote received a lot of backlash from a particular student body. I was asked to stay at home for a week after that. Another time, while interviewing a professor accused of sexual harassment, he talked to me inappropriately. The worst part is that we think that this is a given, that it is a part of being a journalist.

she said

This sad reality is only worsened when women go for on-ground reporting. For a female student
journalist studying in Mumbai, speaking to men face to face has been a disenchanting experience.

They make you feel so uncomfortable. It is almost as if they do not view you as another human worthy of self-respect.Cases of sexual harassment and bullying are widespread.

she said

College students who come to study in a city from their hometowns face an added layer of risk.

When I came to Delhi, I felt that everyone viewed me differently. I felt that there were issues
I wanted to talk about but could not.Freedom of speech is different for men and women. Plus, contacting people can be a different engagement as a gender minority. Identity for me has been a point of observance, I noticed that a person from another state or a privileged background could get away by talking about certain things in a simplistic manner. Whereas, being a Kashmiri Muslim woman, I could not talk about certain things, fearing that it would be held against me. Journalism is so many things, but your identity defines what kind of journalism you want to do. Feminist intersectional stories need more voice.

commented a female student journalist

For Kashish Shivani, the Web Editor of DU Beat handling the danger of being known is fearsome.

As a woman, you have to always be on guard. You cannot talk candidly to anyone. Once people know you, your social media handles, your email address, and your phone number, you find yourself in uncomfortable situations. There have been instances where when one person from an organisation or college society starts following, their friends also follow suit. This is a confusing place to be in, as you are constantly wondering when something untoward will happen.

Kashish Shivani, Web Editor of DU Beat

Kashish commented on her experience as a female student journalist.

Accompanying women covering on ground protests is a persistent fear. And particularly while interacting with men, when you see for yourself that men are not talking to you in a completely professional manner. That feeling of not being fully accepted or respected is disheartening. Moreover, the relations my fellow male correspondents have with contacts are very different from the relations I have with them.

Kashish Shivani, Web Editor of DU Beat

Such instances highlight the subtle difference most women can make out, where they are not treated as equal to their male counterparts.

Perhaps the most thought-provoking remark was from Himasweeta Sarma, the current Editor-in-Chief of DU Beat.

Most of the messages we receive on DU Beat’s account are addressed to ‘sir’. I think that this speaks a lot about the current state of women in journalism considering that since 2011, four or five times the post of Editor or Editor-in-Chief has been held by a woman and yet this persists.

Himasweeta Sarma, Editor-in-Chief of DU Beat

Most of the female student journalists whose quotes were used in this article have been kept anonymous, upon request. As one of them pointed out, “This is the strangest irony, me asking you to not mention names and keep me anonymous right after talking about how important it is to popularise female experiences in journalism.” Preferring to remain anonymous and going without credit because of gendered fear is yet another disempowering reality that female journalists face. Virginia Woolf’s words echoed in my head the entire time I typed this article, “For most of history, Anonymous was a woman.”

 

Read Also: Press Freedom in The Lives of Struggling Student Journalists

 

Featured Image Credits: BBC News

 

Shiuli Sural

 

[email protected]

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Life at Delhi University

Dear Freshers, Welcome to the DU Dream

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The university that all of your schoolmates drooled over. Red bricks and skyrocketing cutoffs. Living with the cream of the crowd in the city of dreams, Delhi. What does it take to come far from home and survive this fantasy?

Dream incessantly, asleep or awake. When you’re on the metro listening to high volume EDM’s and the aunty
next to you is squishing and pushing just enough to make it to the last empty seat. Dream, looking at the autumnal hue of the Celtis tree while your professor reads out the last lines of a background reading, you with all the determination of a first-sem-out-of-the-womb of a school cocoon had written on your to-do list to complete last week. Dream, you made it to the interview round of a hard to get into, corporate job recruitment drive like college society. Dream, when you fake smiles awkwardly at a volunteering programme you signed up for, because Freuds super ego can handle your social anxiety in a faceless swarm of people. Dream, when you’re a pile of slob sitting on your undone assignments and dirty laundry. Dream, on Diwali evenings
far from home when fairy lights don’t suffice for your mother’s handmade kaju barfi . Dream kid. You are finally living it: The DU Dream.

Be it the first or the fifth list, you are just happy that you made it to Delhi University. Well, that is nothing but
a half-truth. While some of you are sullen for you got a college far less than what you had hoped for in the last two epochs of your school life, the others beam with unsurmountable joy as they witness the first day and the first step towards the college of their dreams. All this would soon melt into a horizon of memories, a marvel you would look at when the first six months pass by. You, the light that recoils in fright, you don’t even know who you are. You chant that you feel ugly on the outside and worse on the inside. You want to fill the voids
and be whole. You will be soon enough, even if partly so.

In between the rickshaw rides and lose change problems. The rent payment and unpaid internship struggles. The all-nighter study sessions, one night before the exam. The PG ka rukha sukha khaana. The maheene only do baar nahana. The Majnu ka Tila and Humayun’s Tomb. The month-end when dessert is a single spoonful of sugar. The cold coffee and iced tea, the Kamala Nagar shopping spree. The morning classes and Delhi’s unpredictable afternoon rains. The last minute presentations. The resume building and the fans that fall off ceilings. The break-ups and breakdowns. In the thick and thin of it all, piece by piece, it is as if all this time you have been trying to achieve this very thing, to separate the good parts of you from the rotten. You seem to have become whole.

I welcome you to this dream with a strong heart. You, who will stand tall and love the fresh air that comes from
following this ever-onward road. You, who will stride in bold steps, and feel a sense of pride in each one.  And this journey is not about a destination, an arrival point or a finish line, for there is no such thing. This dream is about the people you meet and how you made them feel. For it will take you to places unchartered within yourself and beyond. Friends come, friends go, often-times you would be alone. Then make solitude your
companion, take it as it comes, good or bad, and keep moving forward.

Aayat Farooqui

[email protected]

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alumni

My City: An Open Art Gallery

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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]

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Parampara, Pratishtha, Anushasan: DU Then VS Now

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DU has lived through multifarious eras. Hence, it’s only safe to assume that its heritage and
legacy, are something made for the books.

With all its troughs and crests, the University of Delhi (DU) has finally reached its centennial
year. This mammoth of a moment comes during an era of a cultural and political boom, and drawing a contrast between the nascent traditions and practices of the university and its contemporary versions comes as the only natural move to understand why DU is the way it is.

Charting the temporal political mapping of the university reveals a sort of political dilution that has come about over the years. There is an increase in university organisations endorsing the usage of top-down models to inculcate structural implementations that have evidently reduced the scope for diverse conversations.

There has been a depoliticization of campuses on purpose over the years because of the critical programmes that used to be conducted in our times, and that had to be reduced
because of the fervour they created.

a professor of DU

When it comes to the academic shifts over the decades, one of the most critical changes being imbibed was the shift from an annual to a semester system. The latter became a part of the 2010-11 session. Until then, the academic system functioned on an annual basis. This
change was much debated at the time because of the questionable impact it sought to create.

In our times, we used to sit with a topic or reading and discuss it holistically. But now I feel students are made to skim through just to complete the syllabus in time. I mean, it is wrong,but it is also the way things are now.

a DU alumna

The semester system and the paucity of time to finish the syllabi prop up the question, “What is all this for?”

In our time, the syllabus used to be more academic,whereas now, it has become more industrially inclined to make students more skilled and employable for sure. But the important question is to find out the whereabouts of these internships.

 Ms. Nancy Pathak, a Professor of Political Science at Lady Shri Ram College for Women, on the evolution of the syllabus and the culture of internships

The hustle culture and the dire need for an internship have steered the students into accepting whatever grunt work is thrown at them.

Lastly, mapping the “attendance” trajectory is yet another important facet of a DU student’s life.

I’ve noticed that attendance is such a strict criterion only in women’s colleges.

a professor at DU

The question here arises, what is the gendered rationale behind such strictness in attendance? Perhaps it is a question that creates a debate beyond the confinement of the article.

Regardless of all the good and bad, these comparisons have helped us trace the progressions and regressions over time, something which is true of every development, and that should be acknowledged to understand and respect the university’s run so far.

 

Read Also: Is DU Worth the Hype?

 

Featured Image Credits: Behind Cricket

 

Vidushi Sinha

[email protected]

Madiha Mattoo

[email protected]

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The Wandering Minstrels of Bengal: A Story of Baul-geeti

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The lesser known art forms of Bengal have seen a rise in popularity in contemporary times. This is the story of Baul-geeti, an integral part of Bengal’s Oral traditions, which posed questions two centuries back that are still relevant today.

Growing up in a Bengali household in North Kolkata, my summer break afternoons were often filled with an elaborate plate of jackfruit, mangoes and watermelons that my grandmother brought in after lunch. What would accompany this huge palette of the various shades of yellows and reds, were stories of Shantiniketan and Birbhum, where my grandma had spent a considerable portion of her youth. My drowsy eyes would look at her face light up as she spoke about the men who had no home, who wandered and stayed wherever their hearts wanted, who considered the world their home. Her broken, out-of-breath notes sang of these men in big alkhallas. She sang of the minstrels who have been a part and parcel of Bengal, she sang of the Bauls.

The Bauls are folk artists of Bengal. They renounce society and claim the open skies and lands as their country. They are nomads who sing of the Supreme One and their love towards the celestial entity. They believe in no discriminatory factors—religion, gender, caste, creed, race; they preach and practise Deha-tatta, which holds that every being is equal with the Supreme One himself, who resides in us all. It’s not just limited to living beings either. Bauls respect and love beings from all species, big and small. These wandering minstrels rejected social hierarchies and divisive constructs. Their radical rejection of social institutions manifests itself in the emancipatory enactment of this form of music where they find and celebrate love, life, and liberation. You, according to the Bauls, can only be one step closer to God by helping other living beings.

Baul music is often composed without any formal training or any record. The music of the ektara,
dotara and, at times, khonjoni, synthesises with their own voices to create, what can be called, one
of the greatest cultural symbols of Bengal. This culture was born in Birbhum and crossed boundaries to the different eastern regions of our country, including the international border of Bangladesh. The most fascinating aspect of this entire art form has to be its lack of recorded material. It forms a major chunk of the oral traditions of the region, with minimal written songs. The Bauls sing from their memory, and their heart. The complex compositions are passed down from one generation to another. Yet, almost everyone who listens to their music finds themselves in the peculiar daze of the heart-wrenching and soulful tunes of the dotara.

The Baul community also has a male-dominated image in popular culture where they are depicted in huge saffron robes, heavy beards and matted locks of hair, rudraksha around their wrists and neck and a dotara. The saffron alkhalla, or the loose garment, is a way of showcasing their association with the divine. The women of this community, on the other hand, wear simple white sarees and sport matted hair but ditch the rudraksha. They are seldom included by the general public in Baul narratives even though they have had similar contributions to the art.

We cannot talk about Baul-or Baul culture without mentioning the man who was responsible for
bringing it to the world—Lalon Fakir Shah, the greatest Baul artist to have ever existed. The origin of Lalon Fakir is still debatable. Nobody till date knows where exactly he was born, which religion or caste he was born into or who his parents were. Some say he was a Muslim while others claim he was a Hindu. Even his disciples, upon his death, never revealed his place of origin or his religion.

Fakir Shah was a monumental figure in composing Baul-geeti, with thousands of Bengali songs
to his name. Out of all these, only 600 were documented after his demise. He was the
person who inspired the whole concept of contemporary Baul gaan and their philosophies as
we know them today. What Lalon preached was essentially the result of syncretism of various
philosophies and traditions like Hinduism, Islam, Buddhism, and Jainism. Like today, he was a radical opponent of all established institutions, to the extent wherein one of his compositions, he
sang, “If the creator is one, why so many religions?”.

The captivating angle to his songs were his vocal approach to issues of caste, communalism,
and patriarchy two hundred years back. Songs like,

“Brahman, chandal, Chamaar,
Cobbler
Everyone is cleansed by the same
water”

opposed the oppressive system with such poetic poignance that it resonates with people till date. Even issues like patriarchy were addressed through lyrics which posed questions like,

“A Muslim is marked by the sign of circumcision; but how should you
mark a woman?”
(Translated by Azfar Hussain)

Personally, if there has to be one line by Fakir Lalon that really stirred
me, it would be-
“A person who secretly has rice
from the hearth of a prostitute
What does his religion have to do
with it?”

Folk music, or any music that had subaltern roots, was looked down upon by the Bhodrolok i.e. gentlemen of Bengal. It rose as an alternate narrative and culture to the hegemonic forms of art that were prevalent. They were an attempt for some communities to establish their place in the existing power structures of society at the time, while in other cases, like those of the Bauls, they were a harsh critique of the ways of the world and the conditions that mankind had created in order to discriminate against others.

In contemporary times, the religious extremism that we often encounter was exactly what these
cultures opposed. The question of what religion you were born with and which religion you’ll leave the world with was one question that the Bauls asked society.

Interestingly, Baul-geeti, something that went against modern-day capitalism, has become a child of the same today. In the 60s and the 70s, the Bauls went global and dazzled the world with their talent. Purna Das Baul, the Baul Samrat, even played with music sensations like Bob Dylan and Tina Turner. In more recent times, Kartik Das Baul went from singing on the local trains of Kolkata for some loose change to being one of the top Baul artists in the country. This in no way is a claim that this commercialisation is bad. It was necessary for these unrecognised artists to spread their creations. And it was almost inevitable, since sustaining oneself in 2022 certainly requires a lot more monetary resources than at any other time in history.

For someone from the land of these artists, to witness the world enjoy their music without ever trying to decipher the underlying meaning in their songs seems like an insult to the art, the philosophy and the artists. It is a bittersweet feeling, as a bangaali, that something that
is so close to my heart, is not just mine anymore—it is the world’s to share; on the other hand, there is pride and pride only that the beautiful language and the songs reach millions today.

Read Also: My City, My Pujo: An Open Art Gallery

Featured Image Credits: Osho World

Debarati Mitra
[email protected]

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Dear DU, What’s Your Birthday Resolution?

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With both achievements and adversities on its plate, DU completed 100 years this year. Is this milestone praiseworthy or an indication of stagnation over the years?*

100 years since the birth of one of the most prestigous educational institutions in the country. 100 years since history started soaking itself within the red walls of different corners of Delhi. 100 years since students’ voices began to gain prominence among the masses. Happy 100th birthday, University of Delhi. Thank you for being a rosy dream that took its time to reveal the thorns of hidden behind the petals of (in)excellence.

Surviving 100 years in this changing world is, indeed, an accomplishment. One that deserves congratulations. However when the world was changing, did DU care to change for the betterment of the base of its foundation, the students? To an extent favourable by the administration? Yes. To an extent aspired by the student community? No. DU is yet to be the university I was promised on my admission, yet to be the institution 70,000 students are sold as a dream every year. DU is so much more than the brand name it provides and we as students are being turned into believing the supremacy possesed by this clout alone.

Despite acting as the womb for students’ holistic development for a century, negligence towards their issues and demands is still a concern unaddressed. Despite acting as the breeding ground for student politics for a century, arbitrary assault and detainment of protestors is still seen. Despite claiming itself to be a melting pot of students from nooks and corners of the country, discrimination yet persists with stereotypes attached to each state, each community and each individual. I agree to the fact that such revolutionary changes can come about only gradually but wasn’t 100 years enough for the same? Will there be change in the next 100 years or will sluggishness be DU’s return gift to its students?

To DU, I say: instead of having pompous shows to ascertain your glory over other academic institutions in the country, maybe consider listening to the woes of your students. Listen to students who demand their rights through the medium of protests in front of Arts Faculty. Listen to the students who have to spend numerous hours looking for internships after graduation because of the lack of skill-based programmes. Most importantly, listen to the Professors who make DU what it is. The sea of expectations never ceases, I agree but does that mean even the basic ones should be ignored? If you ask me if I’m proud to be a part of DU, my answer would surely be positive. Yes, I’m proud to be a part and to become an alumnus of DU but…And this but always remain. DU, precisely, DU administration, it’s time for you to make your birthday resolutions. I hope you don’t break them like every other promise of yours.

 

*This article first appeared in our physical newsletter Volume 16, Issue 5. Don’t forget to grab your copy of the latest edition of our newspaper every Wednesday!

 

Featured Image Credits: Devesh Arya for DU Beat

Himasweeta Sarma

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Features

Violence, Protests and Dirty Politics: The Lens on DU

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political state of DU

Throughout its storied history, Delhi University has gained a reputation as a political university. This article takes a look at the political perception of DU and its credibility.

If there is one thing you know about me, reader, it is that I absolutely love telling stories. In fact, I was indulging this exact habit a few weeks ago in a conversation with a friend as I regaled him with the ridiculous tales of DU politics I’d come across during my first month as a correspondent at DU Beat. As I finished my story about yet another instance of some student organisation appealing to their college’s admin on some glamorous student issue that would be great for attracting votes, he laughed and said something that would stick with me for a while. He told me, “Man, you’re a DU student, of course you get dragged into political events.”

“What a strange remark,” I thought, “And really? With JNU right there?” Therefore, I decided to try and figure out why universities like DU have been entrapped in prisons to the politics of the time and here we are. The answer? It starts – just like DU – in the 20s.

Delhi University was established in 1922, with just four affiliate colleges: St. Stephen’s, Hindu College, Zakir Hussain College and Ramjas College. A place like Delhi University, with the space for intellectual stimulation and debate that it offers, was always going to be an incubator for students that cared about where their country was going and were ready to do something about it. Thus, it is not a surprise that students of the varsity were actively involved in the freedom struggle. St. Stephen’s and Ramjas actively participated in the Non Cooperation and Civil Disobedience movements. Hindu College was at the front of the nationalist movements in the 20s – it is the only college since 1935 in Delhi to have a student parliament. This parliament gave a platform to leaders like Mahatma Gandhi, Subhash Chandra Bose, Jawaharlal Nehru and Motilal Nehru. The people that walked the halls of these institutions – students and staff alike – were nationalists.

In the 70s, Indira Gandhi’s government declared the Emergency and the country grappled with an authoritarian regime that refused to listen to the opposition. In such a situation, it seems you can always count on the youth of a nation to bring their fire and their impassioned appeals for change. And they did not disappoint at the time either! Delhi University saw the rise of the two major student organisations, the National Students Union of India (NSUI) and the Akhil Bharatiya Vidhyarthi Parishad (ABVP). The former is the student front of the Congress while the latter is backed by the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS). Alongside them, other student organisations such as Students Federation of India (SFI) and All India Students Association (AISA) also arose, albeit nowhere near to the dominance of the NSUI and ABVP. At the time, the ABVP regularly campaigned against the government, establishing itself with its anti-authoritarianism and anti-emergency protests. This period of tension culminated with the arrest of the Delhi University Student Union (DUSU) president at the time, Arun Jaitley. As Shraddha Iyer declares in her piece for DU Beat, “The arrest of Arun Jaitley had one implication for students: the centre fears their ability to mobilise against them.”

Delhi University has since been home to all kinds of political debates and discussions between different ideologies. While most students do not buy into the exact ideologies of the numerous student organisations waiting to spend lakhs to buy their votes, there is a general acceptance of free ideals and a willingness to raise their voices in favour of what is right and against what is wrong.

In 2020, with the controversial CAA being passed around in the Houses of Parliament, there was a line of protests across the nation. At the forefront? The young minds of one of the country’s most respected universities. DU students did not shy away from arranging mass protests against the bill. They showed, very adamantly, that the majority of the next generation of this grand nation did not agree with the kind of administration that was being set in place for the future that they were to inherit. They claimed that the CAA was unconstitutional as by excluding Muslims it went against India’s core tenet of secularism, Against the central government’s repeated attempts to shut them down – some of which were ridiculously dirty – the students raised their voices even higher. The protests were disrupted by the pandemic in the end, but the students had proved that 50 years on from the events of Emergency, the students of Delhi University were still ready to fight for what they cared about.

Alongside these admittedly impressive showings of power by the students, the dirtier side of student politics has also flourished. Student politics are seen as a platform before taking the next step and joining politics at the government levels. Every year in September, the DUSU elections take place at the university. The campuses are gripped by election fever as lakhs are spent by student organisations to butter up the newest batch of students. There is a frenzy for power and authority as the streets are filled with processions of people proclaiming slogans of their respective affiliations. Student organisations feel that the September winds bring back importance to the always prevailing student issues and decide to launch protests across campuses. As I write this article, on September 14th, there are protests taking place in various colleges such as Ramjas, Shyam Lal College, Zakir Hussain, Lakshmibai College and more. All of them are carried out by the ABVP on issues ranging from fee hikes to, for some reason, a boys’ common room. There are seemingly infinite wads of cash thrown by all organisations at alcohol, parties, trips to the water park and fast food for students in a bid to secure their loyal votes.

It gets darker, there are regular reports of politically incited violence on the campuses of the University. It is particularly harsh for the candidates in the running for the positions of the DUSU. In September 2019, the ABVP alleged that the NSUI attacked their candidate for Joint Secretary. Two days later, the NSUI alleged that the ABVP attacked their candidate for vice-president. In 2022 alone, there have been multiple allegations against the ABVP by the NSUI and SFI accusing the rightist organisation of violence.

In the end, it seems my friend was right about DU being political. It may be a perception that’s a little too absolute and dismissive, but it is right to some extent. Delhi University can be a political hotbed. However, more often than not, this is a direct consequence of being a space for debate and discussion of different ideologies right at the capital of the country. Hundreds of students from different backgrounds from different parts of the nation attend this famed university. That kind of exposure brings with it intellectual debates and discussions hidden within the fun of campus life.

All DU ever asks its future students is one thing: what are you willing to stand for? For the pre-independence students of the university it was freedom. For the students in the 70s it was anti authoritarianism. For the students in 2020, it was a sense of secularism and unity. As the elections roll around and the exaggerated showings of student support start, DU and its historically active alumni now ask you, dear reader, “what will you stand for?”

Read also: Prisoner to Political Parties

Featured Image Credits: The Hindu

Siddharth Kumar

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Admission Season

Sports and ECA Quota in DU: All You Need To Know

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For the first time in two years, Delhi University has decided to revert back to its traditional methods of Sports and ECA quota admissions. Here’s the new (old) procedure.

Traditionally, Delhi University has always offered prospective students a chance to use their extracurricular skills to boost their chances of admission to one of the most sought after universities in the country. This procedure involved a panel that judged a combination of students’ merit certificates and trial performances to determine the grace marks that the student would receive during cutoff season.

Since the arrival of COVID-19 back in 2020, the varsity chose to rely solely on the judgement of merit certificates as the lockdown and social distancing measures made in person trials impossible. However, this year, the varsity has finally brought back offline trials as a way to judge students as well.

Seats will be offered on the basis of combined ECA merit, which will be calculated by taking 25% of the highest program-specific CUET percentage score of all the programmes in which the candidate has applied, and 75% of the highest ECA score obtained from all the categories in which the applicant has been considered,” – Haneet Gandhi, Dean of Admissions

Candidates who have represented the country on an international level, including the Olympics, Commonwealth Games or the World Cup are classified as Category A candidates. These candidates shall be granted admission without sports trials.

Any other candidates under the sports quota will be required to participate in sports trials conducted by the university. There are a total of 28 sports recognised for the supernumerary sports quota and you can find the full list here.

Procedure:

The procedure is straightforward and largely similar to the one for the admissions process through CUET.

  • Visit ugadmission.uod.ac.in and fill the application form.
  • Candidates can apply for a maximum of three sports.
  • Upload self-attested copies of upto a maximum of 3 Merit/Participation Sports Certificates of the preceding five years between 1st April 2017 to 30th June 2022.
  • Candidates are then required to upload the following necessary documents and review the submitted information.
  • Select the programs you wish to apply for. The university recommends that candidates choose the maximum number of programs that they fulfil the program-specific eligibility for.
  • Confirm program specific CUET merit score.
  • Select your program+college combination preferences. Once again, the university recommends that the candidates choose the maximum number of combinations.
  • Confirm preferences.

Not all colleges offer the same amount of seats for all sports. It is advised that candidates check if their preferred college makes reservations for their sports here.

75% of the weightage for admissions will be given to in person trial performances and 25% to a combination of merit certificates.

For full guidelines: see Section 21.2, page 43 of this document.

Read Also: Error 404: Sports Education Not Found

Siddharth Kumar

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alumni

Learning To Speak Truth To Power

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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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