And the government of this same country uses the term ‘urban elite’ as a jibe, as a class slur? I don’t get it.
Call it the Mahatma‘s ailment – ‘It costs us a lot of money to keep this man poor,’ the Nightingale of India had rightly tweeted without a hashtag – or the neurosis of a nationalist, socialist state. But why would being urban and elite be an embarrassing tag, shameful enough for the Union government to describe same-sex marriage as an ‘urban elite concept’ before the most elite institution of India, the Supreme Court?
Ministermen and their sidekicks keep rattling out numbers that highlight India’s urbanisation spree – cities already contributing 2/3rd of India’s economic output; more than 400 million to live in cities by 2030… No one tires of talking up tier-2, tier-3… tier-10 cities, the rural elite in this country having not the kind of heft it once did when the zamindari system was still alive and kicking. Sorry, Mohandas, the future of India didn’t end up lying in its villages. Every Ramgarh wants a mall and to be a city; even Hauz Khas Village.
As for ‘elite’, how is that a dirty word in non-Soviet 2023 India? You have elite institutions that everyone wants their kids to go to. You have medal-winning Indian sportspersons being rightly described left, right and centre as elite athletes. What do you think special forces like COBRA (Commando Battalion for Resolute Action), Mumbai Police’s specialised unit Force One, and the Marcos (marine commandos) are, if not elite soldiers? Do you think by being elite – a select group that is superior in terms of ability or qualities to the rest of a group or society – they want their hip flasks to be constantly supplied with Chateau Lafite Rothschild red and are constantly thinking of getting same-sex married to members of their sniper unit?
Now, ‘urban Naxal‘ I can understand. Instead of being in Bastar stalking a cop, you’re spoiling a Colaba party by talking about ‘encounters’. ‘Khan Market gang’, too, I get – a term, I know through an impeccable source, coined by a Khan Market regular watching the chichi crowd from behind a restaurant menu like an undercover Stasi officer watching Americans in Cold War West Berlin. When people correct my pronunciation of ‘Varanasi/Banaras’ (I say ‘Bey-na-ras’), I feel the same righteous spite.
And let’s face it. In Delhi, ‘Lutyens’ is really a smirky descriptor given to posh, entitled people belonging to a certain lapsed ideological framework by a new, empowered lot of posh, entitled people belonging to the reigning ideological Netflix show. Pot. Kettle. Black bronze. So ‘urban elite’ is not only not what this government in court wants it to sound like, but it’s actually an aspirational state – what the same government, if they parse their own words, wants India to be: urban and elite. Being or becoming elite – whether in wealth, knowledge, professional or creative prowess, or whatever’s one poison – is what everyone should be. There is no shame in buying the best seats in a cinema instead of sitting in the front stalls, unless you want to fetishise mediocrity.
And if indeed same-sex marriage is a posh, elitist concept, I don’t see much evidence of homosexuals who want to tie the knot giggling among themselves and saying, ‘Oh. My. God! I saw two heterosexuals the other day saying, ‘We’ll live together but never marry.’ Can you imay-gine!’