A paean to composite culture
If, on the other hand, the parivar has settled for hard saffron as a prescription to glue the nation together from Kashmir to Nagaland and Kanyakumari, forcible administration of it will be resisted by the various regions and states. This aggravation of the centrifugal pull is a consequence exactly the opposite of what the parivar intended.
The remarkable achievement of Amaresh Misra's book, Lucknow: Fire of Grace, is precisely this: without being overtly political the book, sometimes by hint and innuendo, raises these important questions.
The affection with which he approaches his theme speaks volumes for his intentions. He sees Lucknow both as a metaphor and fact, once a living tradition, now lost in the haze of change; something with elements that deserve to be rediscovered and emphasised and not simply relegated to the realms of nostalgia. Indeed, without saying it in so many words, Amaresh Misra accepts the proposition that the soul of Hindustani civilisation must be divined, its hard core found. He then proceeds to offer his compelling thesis that this critical equilibrium of the Indian soul is best represented by the composite culture which was, and to some extent still is, Lucknow's strength.
Lucknow's richest spoil, Misra writes, is its composite culture: that cultural strain which, for centuries, welded together diverse communities, religions, ways of life and thought to finally showcase an idea and praxis of Indian-ness.
Ironically, the composite harmony, projected by the Indian ruling elite as the basis of national unity and secular temper, found an echo in the Indo-Gangetic plain, a perceived centre of religious discord.
The story of Lucknow is told from its earliest phase to the contemporary period with special emphasis on the period 1722 up to 1947, the beginnings of the Nawabs of Avadh (Burhan-ul-Mulk: 1722-1738), past Wajid Ali Shah (1847-1856) to independence which, sadly, also happened to be the partition of India.
Rekhta, ghazal, qasida, soz, nauha, marsia, nazm, rubayiall forms of Urdu poetry are informed by that certain Indian-ness which was the essence of Avadh, Lucknow, Urdu. The tragedy of Karbala was Indianised by the great epic poet Mir Anis in his marsias. The ladies of the Prophet Mohammad's family wear sandalwood in the most unselfconsciously Hindu fashion.
Likewise in musicthumri, dadra, kajri, chaiti, khayal expressed the very soul of Hindustaniat or Indian-ness and were enriched by Hindus and Muslims alike.
Scholars may find flaws with the book because in some instances Misra has taken recourse to the oral tradition. But no one can question his sincerity in searching for an Indian identity neither in Nehruvian secularism nor in hard saffron but in the more eclectic traditions of Hindustan.