Review of Kaw Caw Silly Point by Ram S Varma

From Kak Bhushundi to Kaw

by RAM VARMA

_____________________________________________________________

Kaw Caw Silly Point, A wonky look at contemporary India,

M. K. Kaw, Konark Publishers, New Delhi, Pp 270, Price Rs 250

_____________________________________________________________

It is believed that during his wanderings in the Himalayas after renouncing the world, Sant Tulsidas met Kak Bhushundi, the mythical sacred crow to whom god Shiva had related the story of Lord Rama. Kak Bhushundi related the immortal tale to Tulsidas during his visitation, who thus divinely inspired, wrote his classic epic poem, Ramacharitamanas, dwelling in his straw cottage on the Ganga at Varanasi. MK Kaw’s family too has a Kak Bhushundi connection. Kashmiri Pundits had an endearing trait – to give nicknames to fellow Pundits, making fun of some odd feature in their personal appearance. The aquiline nose of Kaw’s distant ancestor earned the sobriquet ‘Kaw’, likening him to Kak Bhushundi or a crow. The appellation stuck. Kaw seems to revel in it; I remember, by way of introducing himself in the Academy to fellow probationers, he’d zestfully repeat ‘Kaw – caw’, and while his eyes twinkled gleefully, he’d add ‘as the crow speaks – ‘caw caw’.

Kashmiri Pandits trace their lineage from the Vedic rishis who lived on the banks of the fabled River Saraswati and claim to be Saraswat Brahmins. Due to violent tectonic activity and upheavals in the catchment basin of the river at the beginning of the 2^nd millennium BC, the major tributaries of the Saraswati, the Sutlej and the Tons diverted their course, and the mighty river began to shrivel and dry up. The rishis, who were left high and dry, migrated to the north in Punjab and Kashmir and to the east along the banks of the Yamuna and the Ganga – to Varanasi, Magadh and beyond. Erudition runs in Kashmiri Pundits’ (and MK Kaw’s) blood.

Kaw had a distinguished career in the IAS, serving in various capacities in Delhi, Himachal Pradesh and GOI. He has a rare felicity of expression in Hindi and English and has been writing poetry in both languages from early days, earning high recognition. He is a keen observer of men and manners, particularly of the peccadilloes of fellow Mandarins, and has a knack of seeing the funny side of things. His forte is his Puckish sense of humor. Having been an insider in government, he has been privy to the skullduggery that goes on behind the scene. Occupying a ring side seat at the arena of national politics, he had the opportunity of watching the actors at close range and knowing their real faces behind the masks. He has an endearing mock-serious way of telling his stories. No wonder his writings have made a niche in his readers’ hearts and have received nation-wide acclaim from connoisseurs.

The present book is kind of a bouquet of the choicest flowers from his regular columns. It is filled with the heady perfume of seasonal blooms as well as the wafting fragrance of the perennials.

 Kaw’s opening gambit is generally innocuous. Take this piece on “Who am I”. He begins with a simple statement – ‘India is an ancient civilization’, and takes the reader to lofty answers to one’s quest for identity, like “tat twam asi” from the Upanishads and “Shivoham” from Adi Shankaracharya. From this high ground he brings the reader precipitously to the present-day slick corporate ID of PAN cards and the sordid reality of fake BPL card ID. He finally introduces us to the redoubtable Nandan Nilekani who brought in his ‘Aadhar card’ ID, which was trumpeted to be the mother of all IDs. And then Kaw quietly drops the bombshell: Nilekani’s Rs 18,000 crore Aadhar project, apart from being an absolute superfluity, an unnecessary duplication of the ongoing National Population Register of the Home Ministry, was launched by friend Montek Singh Ahluwalia without any budget provision or legislative sanction! I was jolted; such a monumental financial impropriety was committed with impunity and the world was totally oblivious of it till Kaw twittered, nay, cawed!

Believe me, it is impossible to recreate the true flavor of Kaw’s scintillating pieces in a review as even the best paraphrasing of great poetry can never replicate the joy of the original. He has the faculty of immaculate conception and neat delivery; has a knack for inimitable coinage, like ‘Vadrakadabdra’ and ‘chiaroscuro of demagoguery’. The book is replete with aphorisms:

 ‘Periods of high economic activity also witness higher levels of corruption’.

‘Every decision taken is a risk undertaken.’

‘Promptness in decision-making is fraught with danger – speed is always suspect.’

‘The problem with Bapu is that he is easy to caricature and copy’.

‘Arvind Kejriwal should stop saying that he is an aam aadmi. He should lay claim to being a khaas aam aadmi.’  

‘All candidates named in various scams should be denied tickets. Tickets may instead be given to their wives or mistresses.’

‘With each passing day Advani looks more and more like a dissolute Nawab past his sexual prime.’

‘Ashok Khemka exhibits none of the normal traits of cowardice and pusillanimity so characteristic of his tribe.’

‘Vinod Rai is the first CAG to give us a really worthwhile scam with a respectable world-class figure of Rs 1,75,000 crores.’

 ‘Manmohan appears Sphinx-like to let the latter day oracles of Delhi speculate to their hearts’ content.’

Kaw’s comment on Anna Hazare’s fast will remain a masterpiece: ‘Government was so bedazzled they resorted to the unprecedented stop of constituting a Group of Ministers to negotiate the provisions of the Lok Pal Bill with Team Anna. It was almost reminiscent of the Cabinet Mission’s parleys with the Indian leaders about the grant of freedom to India.’

The list is endless. You stumble on gems everywhere, on Mayawati’s million elephants, and occasionally on a landmine that blows you up. I began by saying that his book is bouquets of flowers; one can also describe it as ‘A hornets’ nest’ or ‘The witches’ cauldron’.

The imaginative cartoons embedded in the text heighten the reader’s pleasure.   

                                       *************************