Uncle Sam drops a few bricks

Almost seven decades ago, 68 years to be precise, the wondrous Harry Belafonte, now sadly no longer with us, released a melodious, calypso-tinged song called Brown Skin Girl (stay home and mind baby). We teenagers at the time had no clue that this was a song that lyrically satirised and obliquely commented on American soldiers who landed in Jamaica and other islands in the Caribbean (ostensibly to protect the local yokels from a fate worse than death). Only, as they have routinely done in various parts of the world, the Yanks left the islands leaving a bevy of (mostly) blue-eyed babies, who will never know their fathers. The sordid import of those lyrics we only learnt much later. The song itself was catchy and hummable, and along with many other such songs like The Banana Boat Song, Harry Belafonte became a party favourite all over the world. A quick warning. If, upon reading this, you happen to search Brown Skin Girl on the internet, you will get something unlistenable (my personal view) by Beyonce with some rappers called Blue Ivy, Wizkid and SAINt JHN (sic). Avoid at all costs. Be sure to key in Harry Belafonte after or before the song title. Finding something of good taste involves a hard search – needle in a haystack.

Now what made me think of Belafonte and Brown Skin Girl, you are doubtless wondering. No prizes for guessing. A gentleman by the name of Sam Pitroda, till recently friend, philosopher and guide to the Congress Party of India and in particular, Uncle Sam to the Gandhi clan (count from Rajiv Gandhi downwards), decided to shoot his mouth off on the racial diversity of India – not in a very clever or avuncular way. So far, so bad. Pitroda’s defence, if he had one, was that he was celebrating the diversity that is Bharat that is India. Nice try, Sir. To be fair to the man, not that I am in any mood to be, he may have been taken somewhat out of context, though there were not many takers for that school of thought.

Which is hardly surprising. Mr. Pitroda went about it so ham-handedly that he has now been ostracized, officially declared an outcast and forced to resign from his role as Chairman of the Indian Overseas Congress. I was not even aware that such a body existed. Try these on for size as the man extends himself in a Joycean, stream of consciousness vein. Likening people from the East of India to the Chinese (broody herr!), denizens from the South to Africans (Crikey! / Ayyayyo!), those from the North to the whites (really? Caucasian?) and pretty much the rest of the country to the Arabs (enough to give you the sheikhs). All this purely on the basis of skin tone. Clearly, Pitroda’s mouth started operating on fifth gear while his brain was still cranking up to second gear. He was gassing away on the fly. Result? A potential political disaster for the Congress just when they were beginning to gain some traction leading up to the final stages of India’s general election. At this time, they needed Pitroda’s gaffe like a hole in the head. Before I go on in this vein, let us acknowledge that Sam Pitroda it was, who led the telecom revolution in India during the early 90s. You can’t take that away from him, though that does not give him the licence to start racially equating Indians with Chinese, Africans, Arabs and Whites.

While the Congress Party wasted no time, to their credit, in distancing themselves from Pitroda’s blooper, the BJP went gleefully on overdrive to take full advantage of what was clearly viewed as an unpardonable solecism on the opposition’s (read Sam Pitroda’s) part. It is election time, after all, and the BJP minions were in no mood to look a gift horse in the mouth. The Prime Minister, as is his wont, thundered on about how cross he was at this gross insult to India’s people. Speaking for himself, he would not have minded barbs being directed at him as he is quite accustomed to it. ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me,’ he seemed to be saying. However, he drew the line at this tasteless slur on his beloved countrymen, women and children.

Quite right, too. He demanded an apology from the Congress apparatchik over this racial brick dropped by Sam the Sudden, but thus far no apology has been forthcoming. Surely, his banishment from the party should be apology enough? Other leaders from the BJP wasted little time in hurling vituperation at their opponents. In for a penny, in for a pound. My favourite sound byte came from Assam’s feisty Chief Minister, Himanta Biswa Sarma who said, ‘After I heard Sam Pitroda’s statement, I looked at myself in the mirror and I appear as a proud Assamese and Indian, not as a Chinese… this is a racist comment.’ It is noteworthy that the CM of Assam needed to stand in front of his dressing room mirror to ensure he is in no way, shape or form a man of Chinese origin. Must have come as a huge relief to him. Still and all, better safe than sorry, I suppose.

Is anyone feeling sorry for this Pitroda chap? He has obviously jetted off to some distant island in the West Indies to reflect on his faux pas and to nurse his wounds amongst the blue sea and silvery sands. With plenty of coconut water to wash down the fried onion bhajjis. Yes, you can get them in those islands. I am guessing Sam is a vegetarian, given his Gujarati background.  All that is just speculation on my part. For all I know, he could still be in touch with ‘the family’ sending priceless advice by code. He is a techie, after all. Who knows? Strange name, Pitroda. Never met anyone else with that moniker. As I suggested earlier, I am told his antecedents come from Gujarat, the land of THE Gandhi, that is the Mahatma, and, of course, our Prime Minister, THE Modi. There’s a dollop of irony for you. Whether Pitroda’s forbears can be traced back even further to Africa or China is anybody’s guess. As all of us humans have descended from primates, I do believe Pitroda’s critics might be going a mite over the top, but then, that is politics, baby. God knows, he fired the first salvo. Unwisely. Now he has no option but to face the music.

Since Sam started all this colour coding business, I have been struck by one anomaly pertaining to his head and facial hirsuteness. Why is his head of hair a mixture of grey and white, while his goatee beard is unfailingly jet black? Bears thinking about. While how he wishes to look when he confronts his mirror is entirely his business, I would strongly advise him to dye it all black, or leave the external grey follicles to their own, natural devices. Seeing as the grey matter inside his head is being severely challenged, given his recent pronouncements, that may be his best course of action. I am not sure if Sam Pitroda is familiar with the works of the late Frank Sinatra, aka, ‘Ol’ Blue Eyes. If he is, he might reflect ruefully on the lyrics of this hit song, Something Stupid, which Frank duetted with his daughter, Nancy.  I practice every day / To find some clever lines to say / To make the meaning come true / And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like……

Dear reader, you can paraphrase the last words of the incomplete line, as the fancy takes you. Just make sure it rhymes.