‘Save Tamil Culture’ was a rallying cry at the now iconic protests at Marina Beach in support of Jallikattu.
But if you are a Tamilian who isn’t fully (or partially... or at least a teeny bit) aware of your roots, then it's only a matter of time before you’re conned into rooting for a wrong cause.
I apologise for stating the obvious. We live in interesting times where statements like “no means no” have to be spelled out in a number of articles, and in pop-up books for adults.
The Case in Point
Numerous colleges, organisations and even shooting spots (Hey there, AR Murugadoss) across the state have (unofficially) banned Pepsi and Coke.
Starting 1 March, Tamil Nadu Traders Peramaippu (with over 6,000 members) will stop sales of Pepsico and Coca Cola.
Why?
Because they are 'foreign' brands. And because these brands use up water from the rivers.
What now?
Promote local brands, like Bovonto, instead!
But where does Bovonto draw its water from? What about Maaza, Minute Maid, Fanta, Thums Up, Kinley, Kurkure, Lays, 7UP, Aquafina, Slice, Tropicana and over 500 other brands that Pepsico and Coca Cola own?
Sorry, please call back later when we're done senselessly banning some more stuff.
You're Urban, But Are You Tamil?
I know this question touches a raw nerve, especially for those born and raised in Chennai.
This ability to band together for a common cause, to help one another without support from an organised entity, to hold a peaceful protest – all of this is a ‘Chennai’ thing, and not necessarily a ‘Tamilian’ trait. The Chennai protests came with the underlying message that “Chennaiites can do anything”. Tamil pride and Tamil culture were subconsciously sidelined and raked up only at pertinent times – for example, in response to questions about the motive of the protests.
The protest brought a lot of people together – people with different agendas, ranging from “ban PETA” and “RIP Modi” to “ban Coke and Pepsi”. All of these were seen as a threat to Tamil culture.
Does speaking fluent colloquial Tamil (mixed with a generous dose of English, of course), posting 'Tamilan Dawww' on social media and retweeting photos of a Kangeyam bull you’ve never seen in real life make you a Tamilian?
Riddle Me This
Some of these questions below are personal, others are in the“who farted in the elevator” range of questions. I don’t expect you to bare it all. But, please, be honest with yourself.
- Appa & Amma OR Mummy & Daddy?
- Do you type in தமிழ் or Tamil?
- How many books have you read in Tamil?
- Do you understand poetry that isn’t written in colloquial Tamil?
- Darling & sweetheart OR கண்ணே, மணியே?
- Sandhya OR Yaazhini?
Please know that I don’t mean to say that using the word “Mummy” makes you any less of a Tamilian than someone who says “Amma”.
I’m only trying to drive home the message that while your sense of pride over your identity and belonging are commendable, it is important to have a deeper understanding of it all.
Why is Tamil culture special? How does being a Tamilian define your identity (beyond the pop culture that you glean from movies and memes)?
Acceptance is Key
Rajinikanth isn’t from Tamil Nadu. MGR wasn’t from Tamil Nadu. Karunanidhi isn’t from Tamil Nadu. Jayalalithaa wasn’t from Tamil Nadu. In fact, most of the Chennai population comprises people from other south Indian states.
Idli, in all probability, isn’t from Tamil Nadu. The dish isn’t even Indian.
The time is ripe for a conversation on Tamil identity. It is as relevant as an informed debate on Jallikattu, or a means to ensure the survival of indigenous breeds of cattle.
The protests have died down and the bulls will soon be forgotten. And then the politicians, clothing stores and FMCG companies will come at you with their own, self-serving versions of Tamil pride – displayed on handy platters, big letters and bigger discounts.
It is time to read up on what you’re already proud of. Just Google it already.
(At The Quint, we question everything. Play an active role in shaping our journalism by becoming a member today.)