Food crisis in Pakistan is what happens when dharma is destroyed

The videos of Pakistanis brawling amongst themselves over a bag of atta (wheat flour) continues to linger. The videos swiftly went viral when they were published more than a month ago and they continue to be splashed in TV debates and elsewhere, and they should ideally linger in the Hindu civilisational memory. They should remain in our active consciousness as an eternal caution. Of what exactly will happen in a society where Dharma is deliberately destroyed. Although it was quite pathetic to watch people of the same country fighting with each other almost in a bestial fashion, this outcome was inevitable. It just took Pakistan seven decades to get there. The mess that Pakistan has created for itself was birthed in a womb that contained two toxic seeds: 1. An alleged fear of the majority Hindus, a major plank in the discourse that led to Pakistan’s creation 2. A separate country for a Qaum in which all are brothers The respective consequences: 1. The “fear” translated into decadal genocides and forced, mass conversions of Hindus. 2. The Qaum’s brothers have been busy killing off each other during the same period. But there is another way of looking at the shamble that Pakistan embodies today. Pakistan is what happens when barbarism sanctioned by a book gets a piece of geography for itself and destroys the existing order of dharma there. All the ancient, physical reminders of Hindu dharma in Pakistan have been thoroughly uprooted and replaced by an endless cycle of violence, fanaticism and sectarian bloodletting, often aided and abetted by its political class, cosily in bed with the clergy. Let it be said without fear or favour: If you destroy Dharma, you won’t be able to replace it with anything better. The forgotten Hindu history of Pakistan is the surest proof of this truth. Pakistan’s current food crisis, bankruptcy and nationwide chaos is simply a forerunner of a darker future that awaits it. But what is really amazing is how a handful of elite Muslim families have led it to this hellhole and how they continue to not only remain scot free but lead a privileged existence. The food crisis they have created obviously doesn’t impact them — it’s the same old story of the tyranny that led to the French Revolution. But Pakistan is not medieval France, and when a “revolution” happens, the country won’t exist in one piece. Let us not forget that what is now known as Bangladesh was Pakistan just half a century ago. India, too, suffered a comparable misrule under Nehruvian socialism for at least half a century. However, even at the peak of these socialist shortages, we rarely witnessed such scenes — Indians fighting with Indians over bags of grain. The opposite is actually true. A profound marker of this fact is prime minister Lal Bahadur Shastri’s heartfelt appeal to the nation to forgo just one meal a day so that the starving millions could eat. But the profound truth is that Indians back then heeded Shastri’s appeal. In just a few moving words, Shastri had touched a deep chord. Impulse begets impulse. This is dharma in action. And it is exactly why such things have never occurred in Pakistan. At its core, Lal Bahadur Shastri’s appeal tapped into a timeless Dharmic tradition of food, best elucidated in an aphoristic form in the Bhriguvalli, part of the Taittiriya Upanishad. annam brahmheti vyajānāt… annam na niṃdyāt tadvrataṃ Food is Brahman… do not asperse food… In the ascending order of importance in the Bhriguvalli, annam or food comes first, finally peaking in Ananda (Unqualified Bliss). However, the primacy and sanctity attached to food was not merely a theoretical concept. Food abundance and food sharing is central to our lived civilisational experience, it is an ongoing cultural and social continuum. Hindus raised a profound civilisation by first solving the most elemental problems on the plane of Darshana or philosophy. Thus, in this case, food which lies in the realm of adhibhūta (the physical plane) was elevated to adhyātma (the philosophical plane), and it is this foundation of adhyātma which gives the justification for regarding food as a Deity (as annapūrṇa, befittingly) in the realm of adhidaiva (the celestial plane). India’s national litterateur, SL Bhyrappa offers a sublime meditation on the Sanatana conception of food in his highly underrated novel, Jalapata (waterfall). Nobody can give Anna or food as a bribe. Food multiplies in the home of the person who shares food with everyone including strangers. The one who eats food will feel content. He will bless the giver. The consumer of bribes will be destroyed. The giver of bribes will eventually fall into poverty. The value of food cannot be calculated. Bribe is essentially a vile calculation… Because a mentality of measuring rice (or food grain) with a monetary price has become pervasive, today’s world has been degraded… in a wedding, the peace that the guests who eat and feel contented is the only real blessing that will protect the couple. No other civilisation or society has contemplated so extensively and at such depth on food as Hindus have. In fact, none have grasped food as a spiritual realisation. The classic treatise — in fact, the best work that portrays the Hindu tradition of food abundance and food sharing is Annam Bahukurvita.  Contrast this with treating food as merely a consumable or as an ingredient of Bhoga (sensual enjoyment). This attitude immediately robs food of its most profound essence. As a consumable, the status of food does not rise above the bestial level. But as an ingredient of Bhoga, it descends even lower — it becomes a deliberate and cold-blooded exploitation solely aimed at satisfying those fleeting moments that delight the palate. We can once again turn to Dr SL Bhyrappa who tangentially illustrates this contrast. His blockbuster, Aavarana has a scene in which the protagonist, Lakshmi or Razia counters her son Nazir’s bigotry. Unable to answer her logically, he fumes at her and issues a borderline threat. Later, she prepares a hearty meal and feeds him with her own hands. This is what happens next: “Now, Nazir’s tone was remarkably polite. Lakshmi looked at him and sensed a certain softness that was missing earlier when he had argued with her. He wasn’t the fanaticism-fuelled Nazir anymore. She knew that he didn’t understand the fact that the reason for this sudden transformation was the food that he had just eaten, mixed and served with love by his mother.” Even about 60 or 70 years ago, farmers in villages across south India would set aside a portion of their harvest and give it to temples, Mathas, charitable institutions, etc. Only after this would they actually measure the remainder. In earlier centuries, merchant guilds and artisans would deposit a fixed quantity of their produce into what can be called an emergency granary. This would be used only during emergencies such as droughts and famines. Yet another system existed in which food grain was stored for use during various festivals for performing annadānams — none of these exalted institutions were run through the brute force of royal decree. The whole community considered it their sacred duty. Happily, some of these institutions still exist in an endangered form despite a democracy modelled on western ideas and frameworks. In an era of immoral regime changes, mindless globalisation and faceless cash, it is essential to understand the deep linkages that built and sustained the Hindu culture and tradition of food sharing. Its erosion or absence in our active national consciousness will cause the kind of wheat wars that we are witnessing in Pakistan. The author is the founder and chief editor The Dharma Dispatch. Views expressed are personal. Read all the Latest News, Trending News, Cricket News, Bollywood News, India News and Entertainment News here. Follow us on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.