Land Battles
The faster Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee wants to hurtle down the path to industrialization, the more ferocious the opposition to his plans. And the latest row--over acquiring land at Purushottampur near Asansol for expansion of a public sector steel plant there--provides yet another example of the sheer ineptness and lack of preparedness on the part of government officials and the ruling Marxists. The villagers of Purushottampur aren't opposed to handing over their lands, they only want a fair deal. They argue, and quite rightly, that they have been paid far lesser compensation for their fertile, multi-crop lands than those who owned barren and rocky stretches in neighbouring villages. Why? The culprit, as in Singur, is the state's Land & Land Reforms Department that hasn't bothered to update its archaic records. Thus, while in Singur, the multi-crop and fertile land that was acquired for the Tata Motors plant has been entered in the records as fallow land (irrigation facilities later changed the character of the land), the case in Purushottampur is starkly similar. The land in Purushottampur's neighbouring villages was fertile and that in this village fallow when the records were prepared many decades ago. The situation has since reversed, but the records don't reflect that. Hence, the foul-up and the resultant protests. Bhattacharjee has none to blame but his own government for such sloth. He'll also have to hold his junior party colleagues responsible; after Singur and Nandigram, the need to explain to potential land-losers the need to give up their land and facilitate the process of acquiring their consent became evident. But in Purushottampur, local CPI(M) leaders kept aloof, and so did the administration. It is only now that CPI(M) leaders have started talking of carrying out a campaign to convince the people there to part with their land. But it may be too late, since the Opposition parties have gained a head-start. 

The Root Cause
At the root of this apparent ineptitude and failure to learn from past mistakes (thus being condemned to repeat them) on the part of the CPI(M) is its supreme arrogance. The party, which is now celebrating three decades in power, had always been confident of its unassailability in the rural and industrial belts. Farmers and industrial workers, it reasoned, formed the backbone of its formidable support base. Thus, when farmers at Singur and then Nandigram revolted, it was caught totally unawares. The CPI(M) had always rested content in the belief that its word would be the law and none could challenge, or dare challenge, it. So acquiring land from farmers would be the cakewalk it has always been, never mind the fact that the farmers may not have been willing to part with their lands. This has, so far, always been the case and for the CPI(M), there was no reason to think that in Singur or Nandigram, it would be any different. Hadn't it been for Singur and Nandigram, perhaps it wouldn't have been any different at Purushottampur as well. But that's another story. The point is that the CPI(M) has never thought it necessary to follow the democratic process of explaining things in detail to the people, building a consensus or seeking people's consent for government plans and programmes. Such democratic niceties have always been alien to the party, and not the least because it is a communist party. And like all communists, the ones in Bengal also fail, repeatedly, to see the writing on the wall. Three decades of oppressive rule, trampling on citizen's democratic rights and establishing a vice-like grip on all aspects of life has brought the people to the end of their tether. Imposing the Marxists' will on the people of Bengal and expecting unquestioning obedience is no longer possible. Times have changed. And Buddhadeb and his comrades better take note of it. 

Ban Revoked
The ban on hilsa weighing less than 500 grams imposed by the state fisheries department, as had been mentioned in this column last week, has been revoked. The reason: this bar would adversely affect the livelihoods of thousands of fishermen who catch and sell the immature hilsa. The fisheries minister, who announced the ban with a lot of fanfare a couple of weeks ago, went on to say that the ban would be re-imposed and enforced from next year. As for this year, the short-lived ban has served the purpose of creating awareness among fishermen and served to educate them on the future ill-effects of catching small hilsa, he reasoned. Nothing could be more puerile than this. Does the minister think he's being smart and the people are fools? Does he think we don't understand the reason behind the lifting of the ban? Which, by the way, is that these fishermen are all affiliated to the CITU and any move that affects them adversely would amount to political hara-kiri. And who cares if, while trying to protect the selfish interests of these fishermen, that of hilsa-loving Bengalis is jeopardized?

Ray Of Hope
But then, despite or in spite of the minister's ill-advised move, Bengalis needn't lose heart. For, even if the hilsa population in the Hooghly and along Bengal's coastline decreases dramatically or the fish becomes extinct--as is bound to happen in the next few years--Bengalis can continue to savour their hilsa. This fish, it has just been discovered, swims in the Persian Gulf and spawns in the Tigris and Euphrates, and is also found along in China's and Vietnam's rivers. In fact, hilsa traders, who have been importing the fish from Bangladesh to meet the shortfall in Bengal, will soon start importing from Iran as well this season. And from next year, they'll start importing from China and Vietnam as well. However, the imported hilsa will be more expensive than what's caught from the Hooghly now. Price, though, may not be an inhibiting factor; there is, after all, a price to pay for the good things in life. But wait, there may be a sinister political motive behind the lifting of the ban on catching and selling immature hilsa here. As feared, reckless fishing would lead to extinction of the fish, or at least a sharp decline in it population. That would necessitate large-scale imports. And China, being one country from where this fish would be sourced, would stand to gain a lot. So have Bengal's Marxist rulers lifted the ban to please and benefit their political masters in Beijing? Not too far-fetched, I'd say, knowing how sinister and devious Bengal's Marxists are. 

Sensible Suggestion
After ages, or perhaps for the first time ever, the Bengal government has put forth a prudent proposal. The crumbling palaces in Kolkata, the state tourism department has suggested, could be turned into boutique hotels by roping in investors. There are more than a thousand such palaces in this city and while not all can be renovated, a good number could be restored. They house grand old furniture, expensive fittings like Belgian mirrors and chandeliers and cry out for repairs. Their owners don't have the means to carry out even routine repairs in most cases. It would, thus, make a lot of sense for them (the present owners of these palaces) to sell, lease or rent out their sprawling properties to private investors or hospitality chains which could then restore the properties with the help of experts. The state tourism department has offered to facilitate such deals. Such boutique hotels would definitely prove to be viable, given the acute shortage of hotel rooms that this city faces. This is a win-win proposal--Kolkata gets to retain a rich slice of its history and heritage, the owners of these run-down palaces benefit monetarily and so do the private investors and visitors to this city are not only assured of accommodation, but get to savour a memorable experience in a boutique hotel.

Rogue Cop
The term good cop has become quite a misnomer. Corrupt, slothful, bumbling, inept, lazy, unfit, devious…these are some of the terms that sit easily on them. This one in a North Kolkata suburb was no different: the pot-bellied constable was a particularly notorious one, going around thrashing traders and extorting huge sums of money from them every day. What he didn't factor in was the limit to his victims' patience. On Wednesday, he slapped a trader who refused to give him money. The trader raised a hue and cry, others gathered and, very soon, the rogue constable was being punched, kicked, beaten with sticks, spat at and subjected to all manner of humiliation. True to the character of the uniformed force he belongs to, he grabbed the traders' feet, begging them to spare him and promising to mend his ways. The traders locked him in a godown and called the local police station, asking the cops there to take away their colleague. Again, true to style, the cops from the thana that's just a few minutes' walking distance turned up a full hour later after satisfying themselves that they, too, wouldn't be beaten up. An inquiry has been ordered and action against the constable promised, if he's found guilty. There's not much chance of that and even if some amount of guilt is established, the rogue cop will, at most, be transferred to another thana. But one thing is for sure--he'll think many times before going on another extortion drive. Perhaps others--traders, transporters et al--who fall victim to police greed everyday ought to emulate the brave ones in that North Kolkata locality. 

Shirkers All
There's no dearth of pujas, festivals and other social occasions among Bengalis. And every such occasion calls for celebration, the first step to which is keeping oneself away from work. So it was on Thursday as well. The day was 'Jamai Shasti', when married men are invited to their in-laws and showered with gifts, blessed by their mothers and fathers-in-laws and feasted and feted. Don't ask me the reason; and it definitely isn't that Bengali men make wonderful husbands. But anyway, lakhs of Bengali men, especially those who're government employees, chose to take the day off. Most offices, banks and even private establishments (including stores that bustle all days of the week) wore a deserted look. Even drivers of buses, taxis and auto-rickshaws took the day off. A leading private bank where I have an account took nearly an hour to issue a draft on this severely understaffed day, a process that usually takes under ten minutes on other days. And it made me wonder--if all these hordes of Bengali men were so desperate to visit their in-laws, why couldn't they do so for dinner instead of lunch? That would have been a sensible thing to do and that's what Bengali men do outside Bengal. After all, if Bengalis can celebrate their biggest festival--Durga Puja--only on a weekend in USA and the West (no matter in which day of the week Shasti, Saptami, Ashtami and Navami fall), why can't Bengali men in Bengal visit their in-laws on 'Jamai Shasti' after their day's work?

For 'Jamais'?
Talking about 'Jamai Shasti' brings me to this. According to the latest all-India crime figures, Bengal fares very poorly as far as its treatment of women is concerned. The rate of suicides among married women is one of the highest in the country (and they aren't killing themselves despite their 'loving' husbands), ditto for the number of sexual harassment, dowry deaths and dowry harassment cases. So why 'Jamai Shasti' where in-laws dote on their 'jamais' (sons-in-laws)? The reason, I suspect, is quite Machiavellian. Given their brutish and rogue sons-in-laws, the unfortunate parents of the brides devised this win-win ritual that gets their daughters home (for much-needed rest and recuperation from abusive husbands) while, at the same time, offering a huge lot (in terms of material gifts and good food--and which Bengali man can resist a sumptuous platter) to their sons-in-laws. At the end of the day, everyone is happy.