Observed on the fifth day of the bright fortnight of the lunar month of Magha, usually in late January or early February, Basant Panchami anticipates spring nearly forty days before its official arrival. Traditional belief holds that seasons do not change overnight; rather, they unfold gradually. The festival, therefore, acts as a harbinger to spring, often called the ‘King of Seasons,’ symbolising hope, vitality, and regeneration after winter’s inertia.
In an age dominated by speed and spectacle, the festival of Basant Panchami arrives discreetly, with lasting effects. It is also celebrated as Saraswati Puja. It serves as a benchmark for values that remain essential, for learning and creativity. Celebrated across the length and breadth of India, the festival announces the advent of spring while venerating Goddess Saraswati, the embodiment of knowledge, wisdom, music, and arts.
Basant Panchami marks the turning point of the season. In northern India, the winter still lingers on, while central and western regions begin to experience a softer, spring-like weather. The festival captures this vivid moment of transition. This is when nature moves from dormancy toward growth, mirroring the human journey from inertia to wilful action.
The prominence of yellow during Basant Panchami is deeply symbolic. Associated with Goddess Saraswati, the colour represents knowledge, clarity, and creativity. It also reflects the mustard fields that bloom across much of northern and central India during this time. The custom of wearing yellow and preparing yellow-coloured food expresses collective optimism and intellectual resumption.
Education lies at the heart of Basant Panchami. Families traditionally encourage children to write their first letters on this day, marking the beginning of their learning. Music, learning, and artistic pursuits are considered auspicious during the festival. It reaffirms Goddess Saraswati’s central position in cultural consciousness, underscoring the belief that knowledge is both sacred and transformational.
The fever of kite flying, especially popular in the north and west of India, adds to the festive celebrations of the day. Skies filled with colourful kites speak of the collective joy and shared celebration. It reminds communities of the simple pleasures that accompany the change of season.
Mythology lends further fillip to the occasion. In several traditions, Basant Panchami is associated with Kamadeva, the god of love, and his consort Rati. The well-known episode of Kamadeva awakening Lord Shiva from deep meditation highlights the central philosophical theme, the tug-of-war between desire and discipline. Once, when Shiva’s third eye reduced Kamadeva to ashes at Umananda Islet in the River Brahmaputra at Guwahati, it highlighted the destructive potential of unchecked desire. Kamadeva’s revival later, following Shiva’s marriage to Parvati, represents the restoration of balance between worldly engagement and spiritual life-lessons. The lesson remains strikingly relevant in contemporary life.
The festival is not only celebrated in the sub-continent of India but also in Nepal, Bali, Indonesia, and other continents of the world with a Hindu diaspora, thus transcending geography and religious boundaries. At its core, the festival reminds us that the renewal of seasons, ideas, and values requires patience, balance, and reverence for knowledge. In a rapidly changing world, this message remains as vital as ever.
Basant Panchami also carries a historical significance beyond Hindu traditions, as Maharaja Ranjit Singh encouraged its observance as a day of social gathering within Sikh communities, particularly in gurdwaras. The day additionally commemorates the martyrdom of Haqiqat Rai, who was executed in 1741 for refusing religious conversion. His remembrance adds a solemn note to the festival.
Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life-threatening diseases, especially cancer. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:
Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life-threatening diseases, especially cancer. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:
Makar Sankranti is of immense spiritual importance. It is comprehensively expressed in the Mahabharata in the dying episode of Bhisma Pitamaha. Lying on the bed of arrows after the Kurukshetra war, Bhisma, blessed with the boon of choosing the time of his death, intentionally waits for the advent of Uttarayana to leave his body. His conscious decision to leave his body during the Sun’s northward course elevates Makar Sankranti from a seasonal observance to a cosmic gateway of moksha.
Makar Sankranti is one of the most significant solar observances in the Hindu calendar. It is also known as Uttarayana, Makara or simply Sankranti. It is a mid-winter harvest festival, celebrated primarily in India and Nepal on January 14 (and January 15 in leap years). It marks the Sun’s crossing from the zodiac sign of Sagittarius (Dhanu) into Capricorn (Makara). This astronomical event initiates the Sun’s northward journey, known as Uttarayana. It is linked to the return of light, warmth, and auspiciousness after the deep depths of winter.
Unlike most Hindu festivals, which are governed by the lunar calendar, Makar Sankranti is determined by the solar cycle.The festival is dedicated to SuryaDevta. It symbolises renewal, new beginnings, and harmonious alignment of human life with cosmic rhythm.
Across the Indian subcontinent, Makar Sankranti is celebrated under numerous regional names, reflecting local agricultural practices, climatic conditions, and cultural traditions. It is known as Pongal in Tamil Nadu, Magh Bihu in Assam, Sankranthi or Peddha Panduga in Andhra Pradesh and Telangana, Maghi Sangrand in Punjab, Uttarain or Uttarayanain Gujarat and Uttar Pradesh, Ghughutiin Uttarakhand, Dahi Chura in Bihar, and Poush Sankranti or Mokor Sonkranti in West Bengal, among many others. Beyond India, the same solar transition is observed as Maghe Sankranti in Nepal, Songkranin Thailand, Thingyan in Myanmar, and Mohan Songkran in Cambodia, stressing its pan-Asian significance. It is also celebrated by the Indian diaspora living in Western countries.
Despite local variations, there is commonality in the festival. It is all about thanksgiving for the harvest, reverence for the Sun, and communal celebration. Festivities include kite flying, bonfires, melas (fairs), ritual bathing in sacred rivers, and elaborate feasts prepared with seasonal grains, jaggery, and sesame. These rituals mark the triumph of warmth over cold, light over darkness, and abundance over scarcity.
Makar Sankranti is considered a highly favourable period for charity, vows, spiritual discipline, and ritual bathing. Sacred gatherings such as the Magha Mela, mentioned in the Mahabharata, draw devotees to riverbanks in acts of thanksgiving to the Sun. Every twelve years, this sanctity reaches a crescendo at the Kumbha Mela, one of the largest religious gatherings in the world, held at the confluence of the Ganga and Yamuna, as well as the mythical Saraswati, at Prayagraj, a tradition attributed to Adi Shankaracharya.
Astronomically, Makar Sankranti is tied to the sidereal zodiac and the exact moment the Sun enters Capricorn. Since the Earth’s orbital year is approximately 365.24 days, the date of Sankranti shifts moderately within a four-year cycle, necessitating leap-year adjustments. Consequently, the festival occurs on 15 January during leap years.
From a literary perspective, Makar Sankranti has been less explored in English literature compared to other festivals such as Diwali or Holi. References primarily appear through Uttarayana’s symbolism, ethnographic observations by colonial writers, and spiritual interpretations by thinkers such as Sri Aurobindo, who viewed the Sun’s northward movement as a metaphor for the ascension of consciousness and divine progression. Modern Indian English writers have occasionally mentioned Sankranti as part of seasonal or rural life, but rarely as a central theme in their works.
Ultimately, Makar Sankranti stands as an isthamus between astronomy and faith, and individual life and cosmic order.
Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life-threatening diseases, especially cancer. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:
DASTAN-E-AWADH WITHOUT DASTANGOI? TIMES OF INDIA 30/8/25
The Urdu oral storytelling art form, which flourished in Awadh during the 1800s, is seeing a revival, again mostly from Lucknow, says Neha Lalchandani
The shifting of Nawab Asaf-ud-Daula’s court from Faizabad to Awadh in 1775 marked the birth of Lucknow as a cultural and administrative hub. Already an important centre of Urdu learning, the city soon emerged as an attractive destination for artists, musicians, and storytellers who once thrived in Mughal courts in Delhi. What started as a steady movement of art connoisseurs to Awadh in the early 1800s intensified around the time of the Uprising of 1857. It was during this phase that Lucknow was introduced to the art of Dastangoi or storytelling, which came to the Mughal courts enveloped in Persian and gradually shifted to the use of Urdu. Mughal emperor Akbar, a known Dastangoi lover, is credited for pushing the evolution of one of the most popular stories, that of Amir Hamza, now etched as Hamzanama. Mehmood Farooqi, who is credited for with reviving the art of Dastangoi in 2005, writes that Hamza was supposedly an uncle of Prophet Mohammed, and the stories about him abound with tales of fairies and djinns, and adventures that took him on long travels. Around the 16th century, stories of Hamza started to be narrated by specialised storytellers, called Dastangos. Valentina Trivedi, a Dastango, says Akbar had the story of Hamza illustrated in large panels, which came to be known as Hamzanama. “It is said that a Dastango would stand behind different panels to relate specific stories to highlight the shift in the scene,” she said. Himanshu Bajpai, whose pride in the city reflects in his name ‘Lakhnauaa’, relates that Dastan-e-Hamza created quite a flutter in Delhi before moving to Lucknow in the second phase of Dastangoi’s development. Abdul Halim Sharar, in his seminal book on Lucknow called Guzashta Lucknow, talks about how Dastangoi suddenly burst out into Lucknow’s cultural scene once the dust from the Uprising of 1857 settled. Dastangoi performances could be witnessed in markets and chowks, and Lucknow’s “shaukeen” noblemen ensured that they had their favoured Dastango as part of their retinue. Lucknow also played a crucial role in ensuring that Hamzanama, which for years was passed on through oral traditions, was finally etched in print. Trivedi, explaining how the revival of the art took place almost a century later, when there are barely any recordings of the original art form, said that it was to the credit of Munshi Nawal Kishore, the founder of the Nawal Kishore Press in Lucknow, that Hamzanama was finally printed, “Munshi Nawal Kishore played a key role in the preservation of Hamzanama. Around the 1890s, Kishore must have realised the importance of having the story written down. Under him, 46 volumes, each with 1,000 pages, were finally compiled. Sadly, most of those are also now lost,” she says. Some of the volumes were with late Shamsur Rehman Faruqi, a well-known Urdu poet and writer. At one point, Faruqi, apparently impressed with his nephew Mehmood, asked him to take up the recital of the volumes of Hamzanama, which he preserved. Askari Naqvi, Dastango, actor, and founder of Naimat Khana in Lucknow, remembers an interview of Mehmood’s where he talks about his ‘chacha’ encouraging him to take up Dastangoi. “If I remember correctly, his ‘chacha’ told him, ‘maare maare phir rahe ho. Yeh (Hamzanama) padho, tumhara bhi bhala hoga aur inka (books) bhi,” Naqvi says. In 2005, Farooqi, who took his uncle’s advice seriously, brought back the art of Dastangoi to life. Mir Baqar Ali from Delhi, the last known Dastango of that era, passed away in 1928, and with him, the art of Urdu Dastangoi also died. “Ali’s art was such that when he related a story, you could see it unfold in front of you,” says Bajpai. “His projection, modulation, and expression were so perfect that he could persuade you to believe that you were hearing a woman, and in the next second someone declaring a war,” he says. Now, 7-8 decades later, the art of Urdu storytelling has returned to the stage. In its current form, the setting of the state, the white angrakha and do palli topi can also be traced to Farooqi, who has since groomed several Dastangos like Trivedi and Bajpai. “Even this costume is inspired by Lucknow from a time when the libaas (attire) was not restricted to any religion but instead defined the cultural identity of those residing in Lucknow,” Bajpai says. Where storytellers were once dependent on literature like Alif Laila, Bagh-o-Bahar, Qissa-e-Meherafroz-o-Dilbar, etc., now, Dastangoi is an evolving art form which has had to adapt and adopt. Even though Urdu remains the primary language, Dastangos are delving into Hindustani as well. Stories have changed and, as Naqvi explains, moved from classical to modern. “Of course, the classical version still thrives, but to reach out to a wider audience who may not be very familiar with theth Urdu, it was important to simplify the language. People are writing their own stories now. Very often works are commissioned to commemorate some recent event, etc,” he says.
Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life-threatening diseases, especially cancer. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:
Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life-threatening diseases, especially cancer. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:
INCREASE UPON INCREASE “THE EARLIEST RECORDS OF COMPOUND INTEREST COME FROM MESOPOTAMIA” DEVDUTT PATTANAIK ECONOMIC TIMES 22/11/25 The idea of compound interest is one of the most powerful and dangerous discoveries in human history. The Sanskrit term for compound interest is chakra-vriddhi, literally ‘wheel-growth’ or “increase upon increase”. This word occurs in classical Sanskrit lexicons and legal-economic literature, where it denotes interest that accrues on previously accumulated interest, i.e., compound interest. Economists today call it the eighth wonder of the world. But long before banks and stock markets celebrated its magic, people feared it as a force that could destroy lives. A small loan could grow into an unbearable burden. In many cultures, this growth of money upon money became not just an economic fact but a moral metaphor. The earliest records come from Mesopotamia. On clay tablets, scribes as early as 2000 BCE described how a loan of barley or silver doubled when interest was added to interest. The logic was simple: if the borrower could not repay on time, the debt multiplied until he was forced into slavery. Wealth grew like a crop but was also trapped like a snare. In India, interest was called vriddhi, meaning growth. When this growth itself was allowed to grow, the word used was chakra-vriddhi, circular increase, like a wheel that keeps turning. The Arthashastra of Kautilya in the Mauryan age set clear limits for how interest could be charged, but it also recognised the practice of compounding. Later mathematical texts, such as the Bakshali Manuscript, even offered progressions that look very much like our modern compound interest calculations. Yet India went further than mathematics. It turned this financial principle into a way of speaking about morality and karma. The Jataka tales, stories of the Buddha’s previous births, use debt and interest to explain how karma works. In one story, a foolish borrower takes a small loan, thinking it is easy to repay. But the lender insists on adding interest upon interest, until the original sum grows beyond measure. The man is ruined, and the Buddha explains that this is how a single careless act multiplies across lifetimes. In the Sammodamana Jataka, the Bodhisattva tells a merchant that just as compound interest ruins borrowers, so unwholesome deeds accumulate until they crush the doer. In the Nigrodhamiga Jataka, the Buddha, born as a deer, tells his companions that even a small wrong act can grow like an unpaid loan that increases day by day. In the Kosiya Jataka, a wealthy merchant lends grain with compounding terms, and the hapless borrower sees his debt become endless. Here, the Buddha compares financial debt with moral debt, showing that desire, like compound interest, feeds upon itself. The Jains sharpened this metaphor. Jain texts describe karma as a form of sticky matter that clings to the soul. In the Avasayaka Curni, it is explained that karma multiplies like chakra-vriddhi. A grain loan of a merchant is used as the example: each month, the unpaid grain grows with more grain, and soon the borrower has no way out. Similarly, each act of violence or greed attracts karmic particles, which in turn attract more, creating an endless chain. In the Upadeshmala of Dharmadasa Gani, there is the tale of a merchant who lends grain on compound interest. When the borrower cannot repay, the lender demands his children as servants. The story is told to remind listeners that worldly debts never end, but spiritual austerity alone can cut the cycle. Among the Jews, interest had another meaning. In the Hebrew Bible, Israelites were forbidden from charging interest to one another. It was permitted with outsiders, but not within the community. Later, in Christian Europe, canon law also forbade charging interest. But kings and nobles needed credit, so they turned to Jews, who were often pushed into money lending because they were excluded from other professions. Over centuries, this made Jews visible as lenders, and soon the myth arose that they had invented interest itself. The truth is very different. Compound interest was already known in Mesopotamia, in Greece, in India, centuries before Jewish law. In fact, Jewish tradition began by restricting interest, not promoting it. But history turned Jews into symbols of money, and compound interest into a mark of their trade. Across time and space, compound interest has carried different meanings. To rulers and merchants, it was a mathematical tool, a way to enrich kingdoms and fund commerce. To monks and sages, it became a parable of human weakness, showing how a small act of greed or folly grows beyond control. To Jews and Christians, it was a moral dilemma, a practice both necessary and sinful. And today, it is celebrated by bankers as the key to wealth.
Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life-threatening diseases, especially cancer. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:
In Shakespeare’s play, ‘The Merchant of Venice’, Gratiano, a close friend of Antonio, while addressing him, says,
Let me play the fool; /With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come;/ And let my liver rather heat with wine/Than my heart cool with mortifying groans./Why should a man whose blood is warm within/Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster,/Sleep when he wakes, and creep into the jaundice/By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio — I love thee, and ’tis my love that speaks — There are a sort of men whose visages/ Do cream and mantle like the standing pond.
In this address, Gratiano argues that a life without mirth is like living death. He prefers to “play the fool” and age naturally through laughter rather than grow emotionally cold through constant seriousness. Using the bodily imagery of liver, heart, and blood, Shakespeare contrasts warmth, passion, and circulation with ‘mortification,’ which literally means killing the spirit. Gratiano mocks men who, despite having ‘warm blood,’ sit rigid and joyless like alabaster tomb statues, alive in body but dead in feeling. Such people ‘sleep when they wake’ and even make themselves ill through peevishness, as suggested by the image of jaundice. Spoken out of affection for Antonio, the speech criticises cultivated melancholy and false gravity, asserting that true wisdom lies in emotional vitality, openness, and engagement with life rather than in frozen solemnity.
Although he speaks generally about a “sort of men” who cultivate solemnity. He directly names Antonio in the middle of the passage—“I tell you what, Antonio — I love thee, and ’tis my love that speaks”. This makes it clear that the speech is an affectionate rebuke of Antonio’s habitual melancholy at the beginning of The Merchant of Venice (Act I, Scene i). Gratiano urges Antonio to abandon his excessive seriousness and embrace warmth, mirth, and emotional vitality.
Excessive gravity dries up life, while laughter, warmth, and engagement are signs of true wisdom. Gratiano’s defence of mirth belongs to a long humanistic tradition. Numerous authors and texts have conveyed the concept of a fulfilling life. “Life is too important to be taken seriously”, says Oscar Wilde. L’Allegro (“The Cheerful Man”) and Il Penseroso (“The Pensive/Melancholy Man”) are companion poems by John Milton that explore two contrasting, yet complementary, ways of life: one embracing mirth, nature, and social joy, and the other favouring solitary contemplation, deep study, and serious thought, with both leading to profound insights and true happiness. They present a balanced view of a perfect life, showing the value in both active pleasure and deep reflection, often described as ‘twin poems.’
Gratiano’s defence of mirth and emotional warmth reflects a worldview strikingly close to that found in Hindu mythology, where life is understood not as grim endurance but as lila, the cosmic-divine play. Figures like Lord Krishna, who laughs, dances, and plays the flute even while guiding the world’s moral order, embody the belief that wisdom need not wear a solemn face. Similarly, Nataraja, the cosmic dancer, is a depiction of God Shiva, the great ascetic, suggesting that restraint and ecstasy must coexist. Both Shakespeare and Hindu mythology thus challenge the notion that gravity alone equals depth. They affirm that true understanding flows from warmth, movement, andengagement with life, where joy becomes not frivolity but a profound expression of spiritual and human vitality.
The Bhagavad Gita celebrates the Inner Cheerfulness, ‘Natushyati, na kanksati’ which means – The sthitaprajna (One with steady wisdom) neither grieves nor desires. He remains cheerful in himself. It rejects anxiety and gloom, valuing inner brightness and balance, much like Gratiano’s refusal to sit in sorrow. “Life itself is the greatest of gifts says Mahabharata – The epic repeatedly says that life, with all its struggles, is worth cherishing, and one should engage in it energetically.
Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life-threatening diseases, especially cancer. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:
Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life-threatening diseases, especially cancer. Our posts are designed for our readers, including children and adults, and feature a diverse range of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to contribute to the cause of cancer research? The bank details are given below:
Human Power Vs Divine Will: Lessons from King Kansa of Mathura and King Acrisius of Argos
Kamlesh Tripathi
Perseus survives despite Acrisius’ dastardly attempt to kill him. Though he is abandoned and left to adrift in a wooden chest in the sea along with his mother, he is protected by the gods. On the other hand, Krishna, the eighth child of Devaki, is secretly carried away from the prison and saved, while Kansa kills infants in his attempt to escape fate. Both narratives show the failure of human power against divine will.
Perseus is aided by Zeus, Athena, and Hermes, all key Olympian gods in Greek mythology and children of Zeus, the king of the gods and the ruler of the sky, who provide him with magical weapons and guidance. Krishna is protected by Lord God Vishnu, who incarnates as him, and supernatural events such as the parting of the mighty river Yamuna, the prison guards falling asleep at the time of his birth, ensure his escape. Perseus and Krishna’s survival is ensured through direct divine involvement. Let’s not forget the famous Hindi saying, ‘Ja ko rakhe saiyan mar sake no koi’ (No one can harm a person whom God protects).
King Acrisius of Argos (a historic city in Greece) receives a prophecy that his grandson will kill him. Terrified, he tries to prevent fate by incarcerating his daughter Danaë and later abandoning her and her infant son Perseus (his grandson) in the sea to die. Similarly, King Kansa, of Mathura (a kingdom in India), hears a divine prophecy that the eighth child of his sister, Devaki, will be the cause of his death. To avert this destiny, Kansa imprisons Devaki and her husband Vasudeva and resolves to kill their children at birth. In both cases, theprophecy of death becomes the central trigger for the ruler’s actions.
Despite all precautions, Perseus accidentally kills Acrisius with a discus during athletic games, fulfilling the prophecy. Krishna eventuallyslays Kansa in Mathura, bringing an end to his reign of terror. In both myths, destiny is fulfilled not through rebellion but inevitability.
Acrisius and Kansa both represent a fear-driven authority that turns cruel and unjust. Perseus and Krishna represent the restoration of moral and cosmic balance (Greek dike and Hindu dharma).
These stories reflect a universal mythic pattern: A ruler hears a prophecy of downfall. He persecutes the innocent to escape fate. The child survives through divine grace. Fate ultimately triumphs. A comparable example is of tragic Greek hero Oedipus, who was saved as an infant by a shepherd who took pity on him after being ordered to leave the baby to die on Mount Cithaeron by his father, King Laius, who was warned that his son Oedipus would kill him and marry his mother.
In the case of Moses, the Israelites (Hebrews) are enslaved in Egypt. Fearing their growing numbers, Pharaoh orders all Hebrew male infants to be killed. At this time, a child is born to Amram and Jochebed of the tribe of Levi. To save him, his mother places him in a basket (ark) made of reeds and sets it afloat on the River Nile. The basket is discovered by Pharaoh’s daughter, who takes pity on the child and adopts him. He is named Moses, meaning “drawn out of the water.” Moses does not kill the Pharaoh directly, but he confronts Pharaoh and manages the release of the Israelites across the Red Sea.
The similarity between Acrisius and Kansa lies not in their personalities but in the mythic structure: The futility of resisting destiny and the triumph of divine justice over fear and tyranny.
Greek mythology and Hindu mythology, though distant in geography, converge on this profound philosophical truth: no power can overturn cosmic law.
Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life-threatening diseases, especially cancer. Our posts are designed for our readers, including children and adults, and feature a diverse range of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:
… What links Mamdani’s rad-cum-loony left NYC campaign & the hard right’s hazing of Usha Vance & other right-wing PIOs is America’s politics of extremes & group targeting. There are some echoes in India, too …
TIMES OF INDIA 3/11/25
SEEMA SIROHI
If running New York City were only as simple as making a TikTok video! Zohran Mamdani excels in one, and if he wins the crown, he will realise that sweet dreams are ‘not’ made of this. Cue the music since we are in the zone, and he is a lapsed rapper. Mamdani is the frontrunner in a sharply ideological mayoral race undergirded by fear that a socialist takeover of the citadel of capitalism is imminent. People might enjoy free bus rides, he promises, but the city is in deep crisis with a $5.5bn budget shortfall. It’s bleeding financial sector jobs, remains challenged by the Covid-related exodus of the middle-class and affluent, and might soon be looking for a bailout. NYC needs a financially educated mayor to manage its $110bn budget, not a sloganeer with surface interest in ‘affordable housing’ – Mamdani hasn’t taken a position on ballot proposals to build new housing. Why? Because unions don’t like the proposals that streamline permits and reduce their leverage. The Nov 4 vote will have national implications – the nature of American politics could change. If Mamdani wins, centrist Democrats will be under pressure to shift leftward or get out of the way. The more left the Dems become, the more right the Republicans will go in search of ‘common sense’ solutions with a new chant: ‘Save America First from ‘communism’. Mamdani has long embraced socialist politics – as many lefty immigrants tend to do in the safety of university campuses. But since his mayoral run got real, he’s been furiously cleaning up the past. Can he wipe all the spills? He has associated with radicals who justify the 9/11 attacks and mullahs who want to raise an Islamic army in America. His pro-Palestinian views resonate with younger voters, but his rhetoric scares others. He grew up with an academic father, Mahmood Mamdani, who has argued that suicide bombers should be recognised as ‘a category of soldiers’ and ‘a feature of modern political violence…’ Junior Mamdani is a proud member of the Democratic Socialists of America, but not proud enough to embrace their full platform. He took the second-best (pragmatic) option — he ran as a Democratic Party candidate and became the nominee. He is at the centre of the fight for the party’s soul between leftists and centrists. Call it a civil war or political suicide, the Democratic establishment is confused, out of real ideas, and fighting generational change. If change means Mamdani, expect traditional voters to secede in greater numbers. Top Dems refused to endorse Mamdani for months. They fretted about his impractical agenda (free bus rides, free child care, rent freeze, more taxes on the rich), pro-Palestine, anti-Israel views and ‘defund-the-police’ calls in the past. As he rose in the polls, prominent Democrats gave a reluctant nod, which further advertised the party’s no-direction-home politics. The centrists want Andrew Cuomo to win even though he had lost the primary, thanks to a scandal-ridden past and a lacklustre campaign. The former NY state governor is forced to run as an independent despite being political royalty–he is the son of the legendary Mario Cuomo, a three-term governor. The big question: Can the centre/Cuomo hold? Even Trump would like that as a bona fide New Yorker in the White House with $1.1 bn in real estate holdings in the city. He labelled Mamdani ‘a communist’ early on and has threatened to withhold federal money if he wins. Cue your favourite apocalyptic music. Republicans were reluctant at first to the thought of a Mamdani win, as the ‘face’ of the Dems, he would ensure their victory in the midterms. Then it dawned on them that they too had a stake in America’s financial heart continuing to beat to a capitalist tune and not a socialist dirge. Cuomo has shown signs of life in the final stretch and narrowed Mamdani’s double-digit lead by 10 points in the latest polls. Can a last-minute surge lift him above a deeply controversial past and a terrible record? It helps that many groups, including a significant section of the Jewish community, do not want Mamdani as mayor. More than 1,100 rabbis across the country signed a letter, calling him a threat to the ‘safety and dignity of Jews in every city’. The candidate’s stance on Israel, the intifada and the slogans associated with Palestinian rights (‘globalise the intifada’, ‘from the river to the sea’) have caused deep disquiet. With antisemitism on the rise on both sides of the political divide, words matter more than ever. Mamdani refuses to endorse Israel’s right to exist as ‘a Jewish state’ and questions why any state should exist as a racial and religious entity. He also has strong views on Indian politics. The negatives are piling up on social media. Mamdani has campaigned with terrorist sympathisers, including Siraj Wahhaj, an ‘unindicted co-conspirator’ in the first World Trade Centre bombing in 1993. When challenged, Mamdani tends to play the victim card — Islamophobia is the root of all criticism, and people are afraid of getting the first Muslim mayor. Mamdani’s intense focus on his religious identity has disturbed many. It leads him to tell half-truths, and when fact-checked, he claims Islamophobia. The obsession with identity politics seems more important than revealing a clear path to funding all the free programmes he has so generously promised. PS. What about the other half of his identity? He rarely talks about it. DEVDUTT PATTANAIK A few weeks ago, FBI director Kash (Kashyap) Patel, son of Gujarati Patidar immigrants, via Uganda, was trolled by the American ‘fringe’ simply for wishing a Happy Diwali. Soon after, Vivek Ramaswamy, son of Tamil Brahmin immigrants, the Republican Party’s young conservative star, was mocked for being Hindu, not Christian. Sensing the shift in public narrative following the killing of Charlie Kirk, now seen as a Christian martyr, Vice President JD Vance declared publicly that he hopes his wife, Usha, daughter of Telugu Brahmin immigrants, would convert to Christianity. But in today’s America, that is not enough. As Dinesh D’Souza – another Indian-origin right-wing figure, a Goan ‘Bamon’ Catholic from Mumbai- has painfully discovered. For the American Christian Nationalist, to be Christian means to be White. You can change your religion, but you cannot change your brown skin. Bulldozer karma: For decades, Indians were celebrated as the “model minority” – hardworking, educated, apolitical. They added value without threatening local culture. But in recent years, that perception has shifted. Viral videos of noisy Diwali firecrackers in New York or Ganesh Visarjan processions in Australian rivers have transformed the Indian immigrants from polite contributors to cultural nuisances. The change is partly global. In an age of anxiety and economic contraction, borders harden and tolerance shrinks. In the 2022 New Jersey parade, a group of Indian Americans displayed a bulldozer float- a symbol of rising ‘Hindu power’ associated in India with demolishing homes of allegedly illegal Bangladeshi migrants. The irony was brutal: members of a traditionally vegetarian, non-violent community proudly identifying with an instrument of destruction. When criticised, they defended it as an act of “dharmic” outrage against 1,000 years of slavery and colonisation. Now, the bulldozers of American White Christian Nationalist outrage are rolling towards them. Indians abroad are learning what Muslims and Jews long knew- that in radicalised nationalism, today’s defender can become tomorrow’s enemy. Old dharma, new drought: Ancient Vedic texts like Shatapatha Brahmana describe a simple law of scarcity: when the rains fail, and famine spreads, the strong consume the weak. Dharma, they say, is the opposite – when the strong protect the weak. Once, immigration embodied that spirit: strong nations offering opportunities to the less privileged. But today, the global economy is drowning in debt rather than water, and drought has returned. Scarcity squeezes out wisdom and compassion. The non-violent satvik vegetarian displays bloodlust. The Lady of Liberty is turning into a Karen. When compassion dries up, people cling to the most visible marker of belonging: the body itself. National borders can be crossed. Religions can be joined or left. But race cannot be escaped. You can baptise your name, but not your skin. Hence, in America, Christianity is not so much about being Jesus. It is about being white. Secularism in America, since the Declaration of Independence, has been about different Christian denominations, not Jews, Muslims, Buddhists or Hindus. The irony for India: Indian Brahmins, who for decades positioned themselves as global interpreters of Hinduism, are watching uneasily. They once believed that aligning with Western power structures – speaking English, quoting Sanskrit and eating vegetarian – would ensure acceptance. They even argued that America was part of ‘akhand bharat’. That America was Patala or Sutala of Baliraja, and California was actually ‘Kapila-aranya’. “For the American Christian Nationalist, to be a Christian means to be White…you can change your religion, but you cannot change your brown skin…This perhaps is the warning for India: when nationalism becomes racial, no myth of purity can save anyone.” Like American Mormons, whose Bible of the Latter Day Saints says Jesus resurrected in America, Sanatanis propagated a creative mytho-fiction that ancient Nagas travelled to America in Pushpak Viman and built the Mayan empire, based on principles of Maya. It helped explain the similarities seen in ancient native American civilisations and ancient Hindu tantra. One social media post even found Hanuman on the lost ruins of a temple in Honduras, linking it to Hanuman’s adventure with Mahiravana, ruler of the subterranean world. But the new Christian nationalism has no patience with this ‘paganism’. They see Hindu vegetarianism as the seed of the ‘woke-vegan’ movement. They see Ganesh and Hanuman as demons. American Christian fundamentalists are aware of how Christian missions in the tribal Northeast and central India are being attacked. They have not forgotten the murder of Graham Staines and his children in Odisha in 1999 by Hindu extremists. And perhaps this is the warning for India: when nationalism becomes racial, no myth of purity can save anyone. Someday, someone will ask whether the Aryans themselves were immigrants – outsiders who came on horseback 3,500 years ago. When that question returns, as it surely will, every bulldozer of identity will find its target.
Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life-threatening diseases, especially cancer. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:
Shravan charity mission 