Keya Sarkar: Facebook vs face-to-face

One couldn’t have asked for a better setting. The centenary Sudhakar Chattopadhyaya Memorial Lecture, which was to be delivered this year by Amartya Sen, was held at Shyamali, the mud structure that forms part of Rabindranath Tagore’s house, Uttarayan Complex. Strangely enough, the topic was not economics, but “On the heritage of Buddha”.

As I hurriedly completed my morning tasks to attend the lecture at 11 a m, I thought to myself where else could one travel for less than five minutes (sans traffic) to listen to one of the best of contemporary thinkers in an ambience as blessed as Uttarayan. My partner and I reached the venue early, fearing the crowd that might keep us far from the speaker.

A shamiana was erected in front of Shyamali and a stage was set in true Santiniketan style: simple yet aesthetic. Thankfully, we were able to beat the crowd and could actually choose our seats. But as the time for the lecture drew closer, it became apparent that there was not going to be a big crowd. Like on most occasions in Santiniketan, chairs were filled by Santiniketan celebrities: all those who can draw their lineage to Tagore, or those who worked with him at the University or at least their distant cousins.

As we waited in this august company (truly humbled by our complete lack of pedigree), we could not help but notice that the average age of those who had gathered was well over 60 (despite a sprinkling of young students who were there). Probably, it was no coincidence that this age group was also free on a weekday morning and quite joyous at having somewhere to go to and enjoy the growing warmth of the February sun as the winter bids goodbye. Thankfully, the snores through the speech were muted.

Of the few students who were attending, most were non-Indian, probably the more serious, academic-type. From conversations after the lecture, it was clear that many students of Indian history and philosophy were overwhelmed at the experience, by what was said and where.

Sen was brilliant in using less than an hour to give the uninitiated an idea of Buddha’s thoughts and their impact across centuries and continents. His lecture, peppered with humour, spoke of Buddha’s belief in universalism and the need for consensus in governance. His association with re-establishing Nalanda University as a premier seat of learning with funding from many Buddhist-dominant countries served to bring immediacy to Buddha and his heritage.

As I walked out of the venue, I noticed my young Thai friend who has recently finished her seven-year art course from Kala Bhavana, the art department at the Visva Bharati University. Her association with the University actually precedes her own studies; her parents, too, had studied at Kala Bhavana. When I met her later in the evening, I asked why many from her generation were absent from the lecture.

Her reply gave me a completely different perspective. She said many of the students did not come because they may not actually know where Shyamali was located. When I expressed surprise at that statement, she said when she was a first-year student they were taken to Shyamali to sketch. “We would go to the Japanese garden in the Uttarayan complex, sketch and even fall asleep,” she said. “But now that the security has been beefed up after the Nobel medal theft, all that is no longer the practice.” The value of the medal was truly insignificant, I thought, compared to what the thief had managed to rob.

But surely, students who come to Santiniketan should have the curiosity to see and acquaint themselves with the heritage of the place and know for themselves what lies within their campus, I argued with my young friend. But you know how it is, she said in a resigned tone. “They spend their lives on Facebook.”