Stereo Nation

Patriotism rocks. Fuelled by market forces and the media, a growing band of musicians belts out nationalism with a different beat. Welcome to the India of Jana Gana Mana on power chords.

By S. Kalidas

If words like "nation" and "nationalism" sound a trifle moth-eaten in a globalised world, think again. Gone are the days when August 15 conjured up, year after year, images of a grey drizzle, white pigeons set free, a soggy tricolour and the prime minister's droning speech from the ramparts of Red Fort in Delhi. And at the end of the protocol-heavy ceremony came the mandatory singing of the national anthem.

No longer so. If you belong to a younger, more happening generation, the visualisation of the concepts of independence, nationality and love for the country come packaged with a radically different look. And you don't have to look too far for it. Just switch on your computer or TV and watch (and hear) Sony Music and Bharatbala Productions' rendition of Jana Gana Mana.

Nor are they the only ones in this business of pop-nationalism: From cricket to Kargil and fusion music to masala movies the country is one vast market of over a billion buyers. This year a host of music directors and producers -- from usmit Bose's India Unlimited to Tajdar Amrohi's Paigam and Annamika's Aman Ke Pujari to Niveditha's Dil Kurban Jan Kurban -- have flooded the music shops with odes to the nation. The selection would have been more substantial had the All India Radio managed to keep to its already once deferred deadline -- it was to release a CD of the various historical versions of Vande Mataram along with a definitive booklet on the national song produced by Bandana Mukhopadhyay last year. The release was postponed to August this year but the product is still far from hitting the market. But then the public service broadcaster is yet to achieve the market savvy of private competitors.

For a nation given to mass pilgrimages (yatras) and public observance of rituals, jumping on any bandwagon is but a small step. Today it would seem the wagon is running on turbo-charged digital discs. The ace charioteer of this patriotic omnibus is indisputably the passionate and sensitive filmmaker Bharatbala with film music's boy wonder A.R. Rahman as his pulling horse -- between them they have reined in the Indian imagination like no one else in recent memory.

An advertising filmmaker in his earlier avatar, Bharatbala was selling Coke and Pepsi till 1996 when his Gandhian father, V. Ganapathy told him to "sell India back to Indians". The idea took root in Bharatbala's mind and has now become his life's mission. "The aim," he says, "is not to sell a product but an emotion." His first foray was the two volume Ma Tujhe Salaam, composed by Rahman. It had Vande Mataram rendered by many leading artists. Now this duo presents the national anthem. Bharatbala's co-director Kanika says, "Jana Gana Mana needed a new year 2000 version, we have tried to make just that."

And how! It is indeed a very moving experience to watch and hear stalwarts of the stature of D.K. Pattammal, Bhimsen Joshi, Balamurali Krishna, Lata Mangeshkar and Bhupen Hazarika render the national anthem (singly and jointly) with Rahman's understated but masterly orchestral touches and audio mixing. All major regions and instruments of India have been represented including folk singer Sadiq Khan Langa from the deserts of Rajasthan. Says Vijay Singh of Sony Music: "It is an articulation of one's pride in being Indian. And Jana Gana Mana definitely validates that."

But not all pop-nationalism manifests itself in the lyrical. It can bare its ugly face too. When one talks of this phenomenon in media campaigns one cannot but discuss, for example, its role in promoting the brand recall of cricket sponsors. Since the advent of satellite television, cricket has come to stand for a new aggressive "Indianness". The first set of promos produced by the Indian team's sponsor, Wills cigarettes, included visuals evocative of rioting and war. There was Nayan Mongia leaping over burning tyres to collect the ball, and even Hollywood-esque disaster movie scenes have been played out -- Sachin Tendulkar was shown using his bat to smash away balls of fire. It is quite another matter that matches are fixed and the quality of Indian test performance has been in inverse proportion to the hyped media nationalism of the game's promoters and fans.

Is that the gap between art and life? The trouble with pop culture is that it thrives on what is known in ad jargon as "recall value", so the idea or image is never very orginal. But public memory is short and even if the formula for a campaign remains the same, new packaging will make it appear radical.

So while the nation swoons over Rahman's Ma Tujhe Salaam and Jana Gana Mana, few recall that less than a decade ago dowdy old Doordarshan also ran campaigns like Mera Bharat Mahan including the two- part Desh Raag produced to instil a one nation-one people feeling. Mera Bharat Mahan was also an excellent production that featured sportspersons, musicians and dancers.

This week the other significant pop-nationalistic music album released is India Unlimited, with its now-where-have-I-seen this-before red chilli logo. "Our album is a tribute to India," says urban-folk singer Susmit Bose, who has put it together with advertising professional Savitha Hiremath.

Featuring mostly the same mix of faces as those recorded by Bharatbala, it is woven around Gandhiji's favourite hymn Vaishnava Jana To. Ironically, no one seems to remember that Gandhiji himself boycotted the celebrations on August 15, 1947. On that day, the Mahatma was in Noakhali in Bengal where riots were raging. However, Bose insists it's not an attempt to jump on the patriotic bandwagon. "It is only coincidental that it came to be released now. I have nurtured this concept for five years."

While no one will dispute that a nation has to periodically re-invent its own image in the minds of its people, one would also expect the people to apply their minds while viewing such efforts.

-with inputs from Sharda Ugra, Leher Kala and S. Sahaya Ranji