 Can I just go? Okay. Welcome to Vakt Ki Avaaz Krishna. Thank you very much. It's a pleasure to be here Swamigala. So we are going to be discussing your rather provocative but I think quite correct view of the Indian national anthem that it is a protest song. So let me start by asking you why did you decide to go to Tagore's original poem? The honest truth is I never knew that there was a larger poem in that song. That's the truth. So I had just finished delivering a lecture in Bangalore in memory of Anantamurthy and a young girl came to me and said, Mr. Krishna, don't you think there's a problem in the anthem? So I said, what? She said, why is there no mention of the northeast in the anthem? And I instinctively said, you have a good point to make and it's something we should think about. I remember coming back to Chennai and then having a chat with Gopal Krishna Gandhi and he said, you know, Tagore did not forget the northeast. And that's when he introduced me to that verse where he talks about the Purbo Udayogiri Bali, talking about the rising sun in the east. And that's when I started looking at the largest song, the song that has been abridged to become the anthem. And I was deeply moved, deeply, deeply moved by so many things he has said in that song, which we don't sing as part of the anthem because of various reasons. Anthem is, you know, it's a limited rendition. It has a timeline to it, et cetera. But, you know, the way this land is described, the way it's described as a place of multiple religions, multiple faiths, multiple characters. And it was also written at a time when he's asking people to awaken. He's telling people to basically realize that we are in difficult times. It is dark, it is troublesome, but awaken. And that really, really touched me deeply. And I felt that that was a moment when I had to start singing those parts of the anthem. And because that is a message, I think we all need to hear, not just for other people, for ourselves. So, would you sing some little bit of it for us? You know, not to go, perhaps, but to begin with some small part of it, and then we'll go to the rest a bit later. Thank you for that. So, I'm also stuck. You have also been singing Amar Janmobhoomi. Yes. So, you are actually musically engaging with the whole idea of nationalism. Yes. And you are also an exponent of a classical tradition, which also, you know, at least from the early part of the 20th century has been claimed as representing the national. Yes. And in some sense has been immutable. So, what I can see is that you have a very deep engagement with the question of the nation. You know, classical music on the one hand, but also in more recent times, you've been taking up these specific symbols in the Indian nation. So, would you like to say a little bit more? You know, nationalism is always problematic to me. The whole idea of the nation building exercise, irrespective of where it happens, is principally problematic because there is this idea of the belonging and the not belonging, the insider and the outsider. What is it that we cohesively bring together and call a nation? That is a very deeply, shall we say, knotted question, you know? So, what does it actually make us, what makes us Indian? What brings us together? What was the principles? What is the spirit that actually brings us together? Actually, a country like India becomes even more difficult because inherently the land is diverse, inherently the people are different 50 kilometers from where I live, or even the next street is extremely different in language, in accent, in dialect, in culture, in religion, in practices and ritual. I can just go on. So, what binds us together? What is it? Why are we Indian? Why do we belong together? And what keeps us together is a very grappling idea. And if you really think about it, that is where I think the idea of our constitution comes to a certain central position. The preamble of our constitution is what binds us. So, just imagine this. We are not bound by language. We are not bound by ritual. We are not bound by practice. We are not bound by having been born here. We are together in an embrace because we believe in a profound idea of humanity. That's the gift of our constitution. That's the gift of what we've given ourselves when we say we the people. And if you think of it in that fashion, then nationalism is truly a very profound idea. It's a spiritual idea. It's truly something profound, spiritual, rational. It's amazing. It brings together all words that we don't use in the same sentence. I'll call it as rational. I will call it as humanitarian, as spiritual, as possible. And it's extremely aesthetic, if I may say that too. And that's the idea of India. And I do believe that's the idea of India. Then Amar John Mo Bhoomi is not just about the place you were born, but it's about the place where the fragrance of the spirit pervades. It's the place where we feel a connection and we all feel a connection to the land. We all feel the connection to the trees. We feel a connection beyond human beings. We feel a connection in the smile. I mean, it has to be seen at a deeper emotional level. Somebody came and asked me actually this question. I said, why do you sing Amar John Bhoomi? Isn't it too literal a song? Isn't it too on your face kind of, you know, this is my land kind of a song? I said, no, it is not. It is about not that this is your land, but what is it that binds you to it? Why is that when you come back to your place, there is a smell. There's actually a smell. There's a smell. And there is that the faces, the people, the shops, the streets, the chatter, the noise, the discussions, the arguments. All that is the spirit. And to me, if that is the idea of nationalism, then Janagana Mana is the idea of this country. So a little bit more about why you call it a protest song? Yeah, I mean just the first three words of that song is for me the most magical part of the song. Janagana Mana. Jana is the people, so the individuals, their individual ideas, their individual perceptions, their dreams, their aspirations. Gana is the collectives. So you have the individual and you have the collectives. And you have Mana, Manas, the hearts and minds of the individuals and the collectives. That's such a politically path-breaking idea to put forward in a song which we have made our national anthem. And if you go on in that song, he traverses, of course, the geographical regions and there are many things you can discuss about it. But the whole song is about what is it that makes us who we are. And in many ways, every one of those ideas that Tagore gifted us through the song is being demolished, is being mutilated, shuffled upon, twisted right in front of our eyes as we speak today and it's been happening for a while. So you know a song, even if it's an anthem, is not stuck in the time of its creation. In fact, if it is stuck, it is worthless. It's absolutely worthless. Songs like any piece of art are timeless when they allow you to dream. When they trigger, they inspire you to think, to feel at the moment, in the moment when you encounter that piece of art. And the national anthem, Jana Ganamana, does that to me every time I sing it because it inspires me to think of this beautiful idea of India even beyond what the song maybe inherently or initially thought of putting forth. But isn't that the whole beautiful part that it's alive in your mind, in your heart, in my mind and my heart? And it's not alive because I stand up in a place and I sing it like a military rendition. It's dead when that happens. It's alive when we have this discussion. It is alive when we feel every word. And isn't that what we should be asking? The song is asking a question. The song is telling us, isn't this the India that we should be inhabiting? Isn't this the India that was discussed in the past? Isn't the India of today? Isn't this the India? Isn't this the base of India that we should think of for the future? Every one of us, the individual and the collectives. So it is a protest song because it challenges every parochial notion that exists in this country. In a way, like the preamble of the Constitution, it can remind us every day, if you listen to it carefully, of all the ugliness that exists within us. It reminds us of casteism. It reminds us of disempowering people. It reminds us of religious bigotry because it tells us this is the embrace that is a land. And a song that celebrates this possibility is protesting against everything that exists within and around us. And therefore, Janaganamana is definitely a protest song. And even more powerful in times like these, when these very ideas are being completely destroyed, even though many of us don't even seem to notice. Your interpretation of the national anthem, I think, is absolutely fascinating. I mean, not just your statement that it is a protest song, but the way in which you are defining the idea of protest itself. I mean, protest as creative, protest as constitutive of the nation in some sense. And that is what is being challenged, right? Yes. It's interesting that very soon after Tagore wrote the song, in fact, he was accused of pandering to the British. Correct. The term Adhinayak that he used, it was claimed that he was actually talking about the British as Adhinayak. Yes. He, of course, immediately countered. Correct. And so, from that interpretation to more recently, where anybody who did not sing the national anthem, you know, in the militaristic kind of way that you were talking about was immediately attacked as being anti-national. Yes. To your interpretation of it being a protest song, you know. So, in some sense, this actually brings out the creativity and the genius of someone like that word. Absolutely. Absolutely. So, for him, nationalism and internationalism went together. And similarly, for him, the nation was not just a territorial idea. So, by talking about this today, when questions of nationalism and, you know, people being branded as anti-national have reached really, really dangerous proportions. And, you know, there's so many people who are in jail. Correct. As anti-national, I think this is a very, very significant statement that you're making. So, and this is my last question to you. So, in some sense, how do you think music and nationalism go together from your own experience? Yeah. When you actually touched upon another thing in the last question, I didn't address it. The idea that the music that I've grown up listening to and I sing has also, you know, a way of being representative of what I would call an oppressive notion of the country. Embedded in marginalization of, shall we say, multiple ideas of cultures, and also representative of the fundamental casteist nature of our society. This is a fact. And, you know, in many ways, these elite, socially elite art forms, whether it was karnatic music or Hindustani music, became representative of India. And I must say that every government of India, and I stress every government of India, have pandered to this upper caste elite notion of Indian culture across the country and across the globe. And that's something we should keep in mind that even after independence, in spite of all that we said in the Constitution, we, culturally, we never realized that the dynamics and the aesthetic complexities that exist in the way we represent this country and what it does to multiple communities. So coming from an environment that sees itself as the sonic representation of an antiquity, that is, what, 2,000 years old or whatever they want to say, this is a stepping aside to a large extent, but I think it's important that it is done because that nationalism is a nationalism that has got us where we are today. Let's not forget that that's the nationalism that has got us where we are today. And that is the nationalism that is pushing us towards othering people of certain communities, othering the Dalit, othering the Muslims. And that's the nationalism that is heading us towards being authoritarian completely, like you said, framing words like urban naxal, which are just violent words that basically create fear. So from this country where we seem to be in fear, and that is also something that God speaks about, you're terrified, you're scared, you're petrified, but you have to awaken. And I think that is all the answer to that, like you said, is in the poet's words. And you know, meanings are, there are always pluralities in meanings. And I think the magic of great art is they keep emerging from that one piece of artwork. And that's the magic of somebody like Tagore because they keep emerging every time you see every word, every time you hear the word, and you know, you read the word and you hear the word, that itself is a magnificent transformation, right? So it is very relevant that we re-imagine these ideas, and it is important that protest is, so you just triggered me into asking, what does it mean to ask a question, right? Because protest is seen as asking a question, and it is. So by seeing Janagana, where am I asking a question? So I think you have to turn that idea of the question also on its head, and say question is not just demanding something or demanding introspection or demanding reflection or demanding rights, but question is also dreaming. We need, we need dreams, we need hopes, we need possibilities. And one of the things parochial societies and authoritarian governments do is they minimise your ability to dream. They shut down the creative spirit of possibility. And if we can, if we change our perception of Janagana Mana, nobody can stop us from dreaming of a variety of Indias. And I mean this in the most positive, most humanitarian, most equitable and fair manner. Thank you. That is such a wonderful way to put it. You know that to protest is to be able to dream. And I think the history of protest songs all over the world is actually about, you know, the power of the dream. Absolutely, absolutely. So thank you very much for joining us today. And we look forward to having you many more times on Vatkiyavas. Thank you.