Locating A Lens: An Interdisciplinary Conversation On Conflict
Frames of Narratives and Fragments of History
The month of February has been intertwined with the eruption of a long-drawn conflict involving the Kashmir Valley. The representation by mainstream media outlets has broken down a very common, prominent illusion for any sensible and logical citizen - the idea that the history of conflicts is based on factual representations. What may be a fact for the ones directly involved in the creation of historical narratives, may, in fact, be the oppression, the silencing of those already marginalised in the power-play of the conflict.
Aesthetics, and the representation of the conflict by employing the aesthetics, then become a significant way of “locating the lens”. Literature students wait with bated breath for a poem by Faiz to reach its soul-stirring culmination, tying all the threads of its awe-inspiring lines, but we often forget that with each poem's ending, Faiz must have gone back to the reality of a curfew freezing his home, shaking his home-ground into a fear of everyone and everything. As Dr. Maya Joshi pointed out, the problems with aesthetics are evidently dangerous- the pornography of violence and the beautification (by aestheticising) of it.
Dr. Pankaj Jha's vignette is an interesting example of considering the importance of identifying the narrators in historiography, and then extrapolating it to understand what aestheticisation of contemporary narratives may do to the lived experience of the conflict. Popular opinion of Chandragupta Maurya, considered to be the first Chakravartin Samrat (supreme emperor), relies heavily on what people consider to be history today. But the dynamics of the understanding shift on analysing that Mudrarakshasa, a Sanskrit-language play written by a Brahmin scholar named Vishakhadatta, narrates the ascent of Chandragupta to power in India only through the strategy expertise of Chanakya or Kautilya, recognised as his mentor. As a Shudra who broke through the shackles of a closed class system- a near impossible feat even for the twenty-first century- Chandragupta's identity erasure as the hero of his own story is the ideal aesthetic for the majority of Bharat since Vishakhadatta's age, but the aesthetics of the literature is the culprit behind the absolute negation of class resistance shaping golden history. This narrative, given by the ones already in power in the situation of India's graded inequality, eclipses the perspectives and experiences of the marginalised.
Yet the potential and even the evident threats of aestheticisation do not mean that the art loses its artistic ‘poetry’ of ways or its ability to be aesthetic, and artists from conflict zones have proved so over the years. Referring to an Arabic language Israeli poet named Najwan Darwish, Dr. Joshi revealed how he preferred the works of Faiz Ahmed Faiz over Tagore's based on the aesthetics, not the politics of the two poets. The stance by Darwish is not an isolated one; if artists born in conflict zones do prioritise aesthetics in the standards of good art, then the personal aesthetic and the political context cannot remain in water-tight compartments.
As Dr. Joshi observed, the art produced in conflict zones like Kashmir, Nagaland, Israel, Afghanistan, Syria, etc. is powerful because of the politics, and artists still “insist on the autonomy of the aesthetic domain”.
Poetry and art are the mediums for numerous children of war to accept conflict as a part of their identity, but the richness of their verses and portrayals is often our entire worldview of a region at war with itself, and with its occupiers. The authority with which we then perpetrate the nuances of the issue on social media, and in our circles, reeks of a diaspora authority- distant, different, and sometimes indifferent to reality. As citizens of a time where the political scene is largely based on turmoil and maligning of the ‘other’, we consume popular narratives and romanticise the tragedy further in our imagination.
The least we can do as privileged citizens is to seek news, criticise cinema, and analyse our own understanding of the conflict in all its violent, political, traumatising manifestations, instead of remembering it merely as the land where pain breeds beauty for the outsider’s pleasure. “Freezing the frame doesn't help,” stated Dr. Banojyotsna Lahiri, and we must remember, as students of literature in a volatile time in history, that embellishing the frame comes at a cost, and the powerful never pay it.
Anushree Joshi, 1-B
The month of February has been intertwined with the eruption of a long-drawn conflict involving the Kashmir Valley. The representation by mainstream media outlets has broken down a very common, prominent illusion for any sensible and logical citizen - the idea that the history of conflicts is based on factual representations. What may be a fact for the ones directly involved in the creation of historical narratives, may, in fact, be the oppression, the silencing of those already marginalised in the power-play of the conflict.
Aesthetics, and the representation of the conflict by employing the aesthetics, then become a significant way of “locating the lens”. Literature students wait with bated breath for a poem by Faiz to reach its soul-stirring culmination, tying all the threads of its awe-inspiring lines, but we often forget that with each poem's ending, Faiz must have gone back to the reality of a curfew freezing his home, shaking his home-ground into a fear of everyone and everything. As Dr. Maya Joshi pointed out, the problems with aesthetics are evidently dangerous- the pornography of violence and the beautification (by aestheticising) of it.
Dr. Pankaj Jha's vignette is an interesting example of considering the importance of identifying the narrators in historiography, and then extrapolating it to understand what aestheticisation of contemporary narratives may do to the lived experience of the conflict. Popular opinion of Chandragupta Maurya, considered to be the first Chakravartin Samrat (supreme emperor), relies heavily on what people consider to be history today. But the dynamics of the understanding shift on analysing that Mudrarakshasa, a Sanskrit-language play written by a Brahmin scholar named Vishakhadatta, narrates the ascent of Chandragupta to power in India only through the strategy expertise of Chanakya or Kautilya, recognised as his mentor. As a Shudra who broke through the shackles of a closed class system- a near impossible feat even for the twenty-first century- Chandragupta's identity erasure as the hero of his own story is the ideal aesthetic for the majority of Bharat since Vishakhadatta's age, but the aesthetics of the literature is the culprit behind the absolute negation of class resistance shaping golden history. This narrative, given by the ones already in power in the situation of India's graded inequality, eclipses the perspectives and experiences of the marginalised.
Yet the potential and even the evident threats of aestheticisation do not mean that the art loses its artistic ‘poetry’ of ways or its ability to be aesthetic, and artists from conflict zones have proved so over the years. Referring to an Arabic language Israeli poet named Najwan Darwish, Dr. Joshi revealed how he preferred the works of Faiz Ahmed Faiz over Tagore's based on the aesthetics, not the politics of the two poets. The stance by Darwish is not an isolated one; if artists born in conflict zones do prioritise aesthetics in the standards of good art, then the personal aesthetic and the political context cannot remain in water-tight compartments.
As Dr. Joshi observed, the art produced in conflict zones like Kashmir, Nagaland, Israel, Afghanistan, Syria, etc. is powerful because of the politics, and artists still “insist on the autonomy of the aesthetic domain”.
Poetry and art are the mediums for numerous children of war to accept conflict as a part of their identity, but the richness of their verses and portrayals is often our entire worldview of a region at war with itself, and with its occupiers. The authority with which we then perpetrate the nuances of the issue on social media, and in our circles, reeks of a diaspora authority- distant, different, and sometimes indifferent to reality. As citizens of a time where the political scene is largely based on turmoil and maligning of the ‘other’, we consume popular narratives and romanticise the tragedy further in our imagination.
The least we can do as privileged citizens is to seek news, criticise cinema, and analyse our own understanding of the conflict in all its violent, political, traumatising manifestations, instead of remembering it merely as the land where pain breeds beauty for the outsider’s pleasure. “Freezing the frame doesn't help,” stated Dr. Banojyotsna Lahiri, and we must remember, as students of literature in a volatile time in history, that embellishing the frame comes at a cost, and the powerful never pay it.
Anushree Joshi, 1-B