“Hamare desh mein, kaam dhoondna bhi ek kaam hai.” (In our country, searching for a job itself is a job) — Vijay (Amitabh Bachchan), Shakti (1982)

The movies I prefer make me a 20th-century uncle, the species that makes young riders on the Calcutta Metro wonder if I am a kaku or a dadu before giving up and offering me their seats. This is to concede that I am more or less aware of the ‘generation gap’ that limits my ability to communicate with the young, especially those who have not yet started the job of looking for a job. In India, there is another terrifying phenomenon now: millions are so fed up with looking for a job that they have stopped looking and have exited the workforce.

But little had prepared me for the communication gap at a litfest in Kerala where a young person spoke his heart out on the concerns of some of those who are on the cusp of finishing higher studies. In contrast, two ‘uncles’ on stage went off on a tangent and ended up addressing none of the key concerns raised by the young person.

As the general election got off the ground, I realised that except perhaps Rahul Gandhi and the Left candidate and former Kerala finance minister, Thomas Isaac, most candidates sound and speak like me — uncles and aunts from the past century.

Around this time, I came across an essay in The New York Times on the ongoing campus upheaval in the US linked to the atrocities in West Asia. In the essay, the Yale professor of law, Stephen L. Carter, points out that “if the purpose of the university classroom is… to impart information, digital agents will soon perform the task better than experienced teachers, and colleges will find themselves unnecessary, merely duplicative of what students can get at home, cheaply and efficiently.” Carter adds that “this stumble toward redundancy rests upon a fatal misunderstanding of why the classroom exists. Teaching a subject is important; it is also in a sense incidental. The classroom is… a place to train young minds toward a yearning for knowledge and a taste for argument… even if what they wind up discovering challenges their most cherished convictions... Impediments to free speech are impediments to free thought... That’s why academic freedom is so precious.”

Then I thought I must meet the young person who had spoken at the litfest. I did so in the second week of April and met him at his house in Thrissur, Kerala. His name is Anagh, a research scholar at Kerala’s Mahatma Gandhi University. He is the joint secretary of Disha, a human rights organisation, and functions as a resource person, facilitator and trainer for several government and non-government establishments.

The following are excerpts from what Anagh told me at his house and later over the phone:

Universities

A university is a kalalayam, not just a vidyalayam (a centre of the arts, not merely a centre of learning). It is the place where a teenager with voting rights is chiselled into a citizen. It is the finishing school for life, the only place where we can learn about the importance of equality, constitutional values and the law. We may acquire basic information about these subjects in our schools but the importance of these values in life becomes apparent only when they are dissected and debated in a less straitjacketed and more informed environment that a university can offer.

I was fortunate to receive such an education at a Central university. Not that the Central university was free from the clutches of those keen to enforce fascism. What the Narendra Modi regime was seeking to implement in the country, I could see it being replicated at the micro-level in the varsity. But some teachers made a huge difference. They ensured that we had the space to speak our minds. It is wrong to say that they ‘gave’ the space. No one needs to ‘give’ that space. Such space is there. A good teacher must ensure that the students are aware that they can use that space, which is what my teachers did.

I fear that such a facilitating environment is evaporating fast. In Kerala University, the students had named their festival “Intifada” to mark the atrocities in West Asia. But the vice-chancellor, handpicked by the chancellor who keeps the Centre in good humour, ordered the removal of the name. The objective is to ensure that the students do not become political. At Pondicherry University, punitive action was taken against a teacher and a case registered against some students for staging an ideological drama based on the Ramayana. The regime is actually taking art (kala) out of the kalalayam.

The big change

Dalit phobia and Islamophobia were non-existent on campuses, especially in Kerala, 30 years ago. Of course, there was always microaggression (a comment or action that subtly or often unconsciously betrays prejudice towards a marginalised group or its member).

When the Babri Masjid was demolished, the response in Kerala was driven by secular values. But now I find that some people are openly supporting such indefensible acts. When an attempt was made recently to include in history textbooks the ‘Ramjanmabhoomi movement’, several people welcomed it.

Dalit phobia is a reality now in many universities. So is Islamophobia. Even in Kerala, where matters are relatively better compared to some other states. Grants meant for marginalised students are being squeezed, not because of the lack of resources but because they do not want Dalits to study and do well.

The Modi regime has stopped the Maulana Azad National Fellowship for students. The excuse was that the scholarship scheme overlaps with some other projects. A friend who happens to be Muslim recently migrated to Europe. She was unsure if she would have been able to carry out quality research with the funds she would have been granted in India. Another trigger for her was the uncertainty of landing a job after her higher education.

Tribal students

A large number of Adivasi students are returning to their ‘ooru’ (heritage tribal village) because of the worsening environment. The funding for hostels meant for Adivasi students has been cut by the Centre. The funds axe has affected something as basic as food. Helpless, a friend told me that there are no “vegetables in the sambar”. How can we treat our precious students without even basic dignity? At their ooru, they get dignity even if the food is frugal. They may not get chicken there, but they don’t have to go to bed on empty stomachs. I am talking about some tribal communities, not all.

Another segment the varsities ignore is the disabled community. The locomotor-disabled community is the worst affected.

Ideal varsity

Matters have reached such a pass that the system now decides the subject on which you can research! Universities should be places where students can do and say what they please as long as it does not harm others.

Such a space is shrinking now. Students do not step out of their rooms in the evening in several varsities. Evenings used to be the most vibrant window in universities when ideas could be tossed around. Crowds are important. These are the furnaces that forge you. Freewheeling conversations at such gatherings shape your character and personality. The most precious lessons are learnt on campus but outside the classroom.

My campus is curfew-free. You can be out on the campus 24x7. But few come out now. One reason is the reduction in the number of students in PG courses. Courses that can accommodate 20 have hardly six students. Some have only three. Mainly because of a lack of ‘scope’ (career potential) after higher education. Those who are on campus are constantly worried about their future. In such an environment, how do you discuss original ideas?

Silver lining

I don’t pin any great hope on the political leadership. Change has happened here only because of the years-long struggle of the oppressed. When wild animals fatally attacked farmers in Kerala recently, it became a big political issue. But a tiger or a leopard has to maul a non-tribal person for it to become an issue. Tribal persons are similarly attacked almost every day. But it doesn’t make news. So, which ‘body’ is the target matters. Why didn’t the Maulana Azad scholarship funds discontinuation become an issue? Because it affected only Muslims. The same with the scholarship for SC/ST/OBC students.

But I have hope in campuses. Most, if not all, recent resistance movements in India have originated on campuses. After some decades, campuses will be the only place from where students will learn that Mahatma Gandhi did not die in an auto-rickshaw accident.

Leaving India

I think any decision to leave the country because of the problems here is also part of the problem. Isn’t that equivalent to withdrawing into oneself and bothering only about oneself?

Several of the students who remain here are doing so because they have no other option. I do have hope in those who have not left even when they had the option of doing so. Then, some progressive youngsters have been fighting for so long that they are nearing a breaking point. A writer told me that she is “fed up”. They are not selfish. They have done what they can. There are also those who relentlessly fight, regardless of the outcome.

We have to bring together all these progressive groups, offer them hope and keep on fighting what we feel is wrong. That is the only way. Otherwise, even after 50 years, we will continue to be saddled with Modi Junior, Modi Junior Junior...

Just before leaving, I asked Anagh whether he would leave India if nothing worked out. “I don’t want to,” he said.

R. Rajagopal is editor-at-large, The Telegraph