Atrophy of imagination

Ratna Raman

SANTRO is the name of an ergonomic small car manufactured by Hyundai, a Korean  company. ‘Santra’ is the name given to the orange fruit in North and Central India. ‘Santa’ is the name of the well-loved Christmas icon Santa Claus (originally  known as Saint Nicholas) who has been popularised by folklore, legend and the printed word.

‘Santa’ (pronounced differently) is the friend of Banta (also the name of a lemon soda pop drink) and the subject of innumerable jokes in North India. (In South India, the Malayalee jokes take over.) ‘Santal’ is the name of one of the largest Scheduled Tribes in India. ‘Sandal’ describes an exotic fragrant tree that grows in Karnataka and Kerala. ‘Sandals’ refer to open footwear with straps and strings, used by men and women. ‘Santoor’, a stringed musical instrument, is now part of folk, sufiana and Indian classical music traditions. ‘Santhara’ is the practice of choosing to end life by abstaining from food and drink and has been part of age-old Jain community practices governing life and death.

The random list of words in the paragraph above remains in use all over India and beyond. Most of these words are of foreign origin, but have been quickly assimilated and absorbed into the English language.

The Rajasthan High Court’s decision to forbid the practice of ‘santhara’, after viewing it as equivalent to suicide, has been termed by critics as a failure of language. This needs to be thought through once more. Language like many other things has been created by humans. Language provides evidence of collective activity because we have in it a large body of words that have been used, added and  expanded upon by thousands  of people over several hundred years.

Fasting or ‘an-shan’ is a practice   common to most cultures and venerated in all religions. The idea of a fast unto death is not unheard of.  Upvasam, sarvottam  aushadi (fasting is the best medicine) declare the heads of ayurvedic institutions promoting holistic health. In the fast-paced 21st century, fasting is observed not only as part of religious processes, but also seriously recommended in all kinds of detox and weight-loss programmes. 

Fasting as a short-term practice to improve health or provide restraint or offer spiritual transformation has been adopted in the Jain community as an informed way of ending life by abstaining from eating. While santhara may be as old as sati (immolation of the widow on her husband’s pyre) and jauhar (mass self-immolation of wives and children), it does not have the element of aggressive coercion or gender bias associated with the latter. Santhara transcends the space of sanctioned euthanasia (good death in  Greek) or mercy killing, in which the choice is in the form of intervention exercised by another person.

Santhara, as a ritual practice, is  positioned  very differently  from the mass suicides of our farmers,  who are  driven to desperate measures due to  a bleak future brought on by drought and debt, while the  Indian state continues to flounder. An act of self-annihilation, born out of desperation, defines ‘suicide’. This is very different from the voluntary ethical choice that santhara provides. Possibly, there are families proud of relatives who choose to end their lives through santhara. Everyone aspired to a good death. Mapping out the last days of life by giving up food is worthy of admiration. The Rajasthan High Court’s decision reflects a serious atrophy (withering and decaying) of the imagination. This can by no means be termed a failure of language. Will the Supreme Court provide relief to this age-old practice?