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Surviving 2001: Happy New Year - Sunny Singh Sunny Singh was born in Varanasi. She received her education in various parts of India and the world. She has worked as a journalist, teacher, and as a management executive for multinationals in Mexico, Chile and South Africa. For the last four years, she has been writing full-time. She is also a playwright. Her first play, Birthing Athena, focussed on evolving relationships and the price of ambition in post-liberalisation India. The Times of India described the play as "an intensely cathartic experience." Her first novel, Nani's Book of Suicides, had been published by Harper Collins Publishers India. Described by the Hindustan Times as a "first novel of rare scope and power," the novel explores the cultural identity of an Indian woman through a fund of myths, family lore and contemporary reality. Her second book, Single in the City: The independent woman's handbook was released on Dec 22, 2000 by Penguin India. Visit Sunny Singh's website at: http://www.sunnysinghwrites.com/ Sunny Singh Me-Zine on SAWF: http://www.sawf.org/sunny

Happy New Year! What a relief that 2001 is finally over! As years go, it was a particularly messy one, what with Mahakumbhs, earthquakes, terrorist attacks and wars. Osama bin Laden as the new demon-king; Musharraf as the acting sensation of Pakistan's defunct film industry; Bush, the old Texas cowboy now firmly in the saddle with all hints of election rigging behind him - after all the messiah doesn't rig elections, right? And more world leaders swinging through the Indian capital than monkeys at South Block (especially since Defence Ministry hired a "langoor" to scare the red-faced ones away). Thank god its over!

Of course, 2002 hasn't changed things much. A few days after new year's, there was another earthquake, this time the epicentre was Afghanistan, but my building in New Delhi shuddered for a good minute. On our western borders, war seems only a few breaths away. Assembly elections have already spawned dozens of monkeys (political and celluloid alike) and a few killer monkey-men. And the international who's who is still in town - Blair, the Chinese PM, and Powell is just January's count. So what am I wishing you a happy new year for?

Well, just wait! I spent my Christmas travelling far off the tourist trail, researching a book on the Indian army. For weeks, I was no where close to the Dilli Durbar (and what a relief that was). Removed from TV and the net, I relied on local non-English newspapers for my news updates. War, Musharraf, Pakistan, terrorism: for all these issues I had the grassroots perspective, instead of the one from India's elitist, urban English-language press. And I came back feeling surprisingly good about the state of things, and yet frightened for the future.

Upon my return to Delhi, a friend associated with the BBC asked me about the general opinion on war and Pakistan. Here is what I told him (gathered from talking to people in the country's interiors, and the vernacular publications): For the first time, I see an India prepared for all out war! There is no hype, no excitement, no "war hysteria" (as a foreign TV channel put it). There isn't even that fervent patriotism that I saw during Kargil. Instead, there is a steely, matter-of-fact determination about getting rid of the "Pakistan problem" once and for all. That famous sleeping Indian elephant is waking up, and god help us if it charges!

In Punjab and Rajasthan, the army has apparently been enlisting young men for "emergency service" in case we go to war. Mind you, it doesn't mean that these men join the army; its simply a precautionary exercise. And yet, the cues extended for kilometers, with young men eager to sign up. At Delhi's Rajputana Rifles' Regimental Centre, a war widow brought her son to enlist in her late husband's regiment. She explained that she wanted her son to contribute to the "end of the problem." Other recruitment centres are also having to turn away men eager to join the services.

But even beyond the confines of military preparations, across the nation, the mood is suddenly determined. When the English papers floated the idea of a "war tax" for the new budget, much of the vernacular press declared that it would be fine, should the need arise. And not a single person expressed opposition. It seems that even the vociferous left-leaning peaceniks have been stunned into silence by the attacks on the Parliament.

As part of my research, I asked the question regarding a "nuclear conflict" towards the end of each conversation. Across the line, I got a similar response: "we will finish them in case of a nuclear strike." One village elder (and army veteran) in Punjab smiled at me indulgently and explained: "Just let the army go, and we won't need nuclear weapons." (Perhaps, he was tactically unsound, but his steely determination and quiet confidence was quite overwhelming). Another gentleman explained to me in Jammu: "Even if Pakistan uses nuclear bombs, how will they stop one billion people."

But the most chilling explanation came from a Hindi journalist from Garhwal. He told me that the unofficial death toll from the January 26, 2001, earthquake in Gujarat was half million. He then explained that a couple of days later, on Mauni Amavasya, over three and a half million people had bathed at Allahabad as part of Mahakumbh. He pointed out that the size and population of India gave us a strategic depth that no-one beyond our boundaries could comprehend. Then he delivered the final blow: "Even if Delhi suffers a nuclear strike, you think life will stop in Ranchi, or Kannanoor, or Bhuvaneshwar? That ability to absorb a strike is the best credible deterrence for India, and that is the one factor no foreign analyst takes into account." I walked away terrified, but even I had to accept that he had a valid point.

Oddly enough, there were no political speeches and rabble-rousing from any of the political parties in any place I visited. The Indian political leadership, for once, is in the unique situation of having to keep a lid on popular sentiment instead of goading on the public opinion.

Since returning to Delhi, I have been thinking a lot about what I heard and noted. On one level, this matter-of-fact assertiveness - in face of nuclear weapons - frightens me, especially since it comes from a deep understanding of the horrendous costs of war. At the same time, I have an odd sense of exhilaration, simply because the unthinkable has finally happened: The Indian people have found the strength to assert themselves.

It is a unique phenomenon, one that may well be a product of a post-colonial population (apparently 60 percent of India today is under the age of 35), growing economic strength and improving sense of national identity. And for this new assertiveness alone, 2002 is a great year.

However, this is what frightens me: the past fifty years show that Pakistan's leadership has consistently underestimated India's resolve and strength. In the 1980's, when I studied in Islamabad, the children were taught that India was a country of the "Hindu baniya" who would not fight. The history books never mentioned that Pakistan had lost the battles for Srinagar in 1948, and which is why they didn't control Kashmir. Neither were the children taught about Pakistan's military defeats in 1965 or 1971. Instead, they were taught about Ghauri (only his last victory and not his earlier defeats) and the "unopposed" conquest of India by Mughal rulers. My worry is that Pakistan's people and leadership, brought up on myth rather than reality, will once again misread India's resolve and capability. And that would be a day of unprecedented horror for not only the sub-continent but also the world.

On the other hand, having survived 2001, I am optimistic that better sense will eventually prevail, even upon our neighbours.

NEW YORKER AT HEART: And finally, you know how an entire generation will now be defined by the question: "Where were you on September 11?" An American friend (from Manhattan) who moved to Delhi last summer gave the question an amusing twist. Her response: "I was shopping for crockery in Lajpat Nagar." Even funnier was her clarification, provoked by our laughter: "Where else in Delhi do you shop for crockery?" Well, Uncle Sam, I guess Delhi strikes again!

Photo credits: http://www.bbc.com

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