CASI Student Blog
I am a second-year doctoral student in the Political Science Department at the University of Pennsylvania. I am primarily interested in comparative politics and the political economy of development in modern India. Broadly, my research pertains to questions of state capacity and the role of identity in public provision of goods and services in developing countries.
After acquiring degrees in Economics and Development Studies, I worked in development research and the public policy space for over eight years before beginning my PhD, mainly conducting mixed-methods impact evaluations and process assessments of government programs in India with a focus on governance and service delivery in the realms of social protection, nutrition, and early childhood education interventions. Prior to arriving at Penn, I worked as a Senior Researcher on a CASI research project related to urbanization and female labour force participation in northern India, led by Prof. Devesh Kapur (Johns Hopkins SAIS), Prof. Neelanjan Sircar (Ashoka University) and Dr. Milan Vaishnav (Carnegie). I have also worked as a researcher in Oxford Policy Management’s Poverty and Social Protection portfolio; IDinsight; and the Poverty, Health, and Nutrition Division of the International Food Policy Research Institute in New Delhi. Over the years, I designed questionnaires and sampling strategies, developed analysis plans for evaluations and cross-section studies, and managed multiple large-scale household surveys of sample sizes ranging from 3000 to 14000 across India. In doing so, I interacted with multiple stakeholders including bureaucrats, frontline workers, rural communities, academics, policy think tanks and donor agencies.
While, on the one hand, policy research allowed me to explore new settings — across multiple states in India — that threw up a series of interesting questions about state capacity and local politics, the tight deadlines and limited scope of the specific policy problem at hand did not afford me the freedom to pursue this in any systematic manner. A PhD, I realized, was the appropriate way forward so that I could have the time and resources to explore issues rigorously while also equipping me with the language and additional tools for such an endeavor.
This is my second and final year of coursework, during which I also intend to work on a framework for thinking about politician-bureaucrat-frontline worker relationships at the lowest levels of government in India, particularly in terms of the interplay of social hierarchy and administrative hierarchy. In addition to this, I am currently engaged in some other collaborative projects which I will write about in subsequent posts.
The Sobti Family Fellowship will be immensely useful at this stage of my doctoral studies, specifically the opportunity to be directly supervised by CASI’s Director, Professor Tariq Thachil. My goal for this year is to work on my second-year research paper and lay the foundation for my dissertation prospectus. I will use the Fellowship funds in service of my research goal to investigate if (and how) identity – i.e. gender, religion and caste – plays a role in service delivery, primarily their impact on the ability of local bureaucrats, frontline workers and local politicians to liaise and coordinate their efforts to provide public goods. I will also develop partnerships with organizations in the field, fellow academics, and the existing network of CASI scholars. Achieving these goals in my second year will mean that I will be better positioned to design a coherent research agenda in my third year.
I am very excited to continue my association with CASI in a more formal way and I will use this blog to share the progress I make this year!
To end, here’s a picture of me piloting a questionnaire with a respondent in rural Patna (Bihar) in September 2018.
When I first thought to write an honors thesis for my Health and Societies major, I didn’t know what to expect. The idea of leading my own research and crafting my own interviews felt daunting, to say the least. A few months later, as I am nearing the end of my research phase, I look back feeling thankful for the difficult, yet rewarding process.
This summer, I conducted a qualitative research study on the rising rates of C-sections in Telangana, India. When I embarked on this project, it was a bigger scale endeavor, consisting of ethnographic fieldwork, patient interviews, and hospital observations. While my research question remains the same at its core, many of these plans didn’t quite pan out to be as I had imagined. With the dramatic takeover of COVID-19, my plans for researching on the ground in India were immediately scrapped. Due to the ethical implications, I decided to change my interview scope to providers only, leaving out the essential patient perspective. Most importantly, I was not able to see the workings of a maternity clinic and the intimate interactions between providers, patients, and families during the decision-making processes of childbirth.
However, I was able to get a deeper look into the opinions and perspectives of providers. When I began doing a literature review for this research, providers were cited to be the root of this entire problem of high C-section rates. Many were listing economic incentives and higher C-section payments to be the driving force behind providers recommending to perform C-sections on most mothers. However, many of these interviews revealed sociocultural factors that are embedded in society, well beyond the purview of the provider.
Factors of access to pain management, legal violence against providers, and the role of social class in healthcare decisions were some deeper structural concepts that were emphasized in many of these provider interviews. One interview with an OB/GYN who had been practicing for 30 years illustrated the crucial changes that have been shifting the nature of childbirth from a natural process to a medically induced, technical surgery. Many patients are also now associating these more medicalized births aided by C-section surgery to be more safe and predictable than vaginal birth. In addition, many providers claim pain tolerance to also be a changing idea amongst new mothers. With the more sedentary lifestyles of today, many mothers are unprepared for the pain that is associated with childbirth. Moreover, pain management and access to epidurals or other medications during childbirth is a very stigmatized topic in Indian healthcare. Beyond this, the legal violence against doctors with any bad outcomes, regardless of the doctor’s specific role in the outcome, is skyrocketing, especially in private healthcare settings, where the reputation of the hospital is everything to a doctor’s career. In such sensitive scenarios, the decision to perform a C-section delivery is oftentimes the safest decision for the doctor, as well.
These are just a few of the myriad of social reasons that back the decision to perform a C-section. Much more research is needed, especially from the patient side to determine how sources of maternal knowledge construct C-sections to be a safer method of delivery.
Throughout this summer, I’ve learned to interview, craft questions, translate conversations, analyze interviews, and pull out large themes. As I begin to write this thesis, the overwhelming feeling returns, but hopefully as I read over this again at the start of 2021, many of the ideas above will be written into the paper for everyone to read.
This summer I conducted phone interviews with elites, frontline workers, and resident men and women in Bihar. The goal has been to to use this as a hypothesis and theory building exercise for my dissertation project. I have completed 20 interviews that have helped me hone research questions and also shed light on the lives of women in migrant sending regions in Bihar.
For the uninitiated, my dissertation project looks at the political consequences of male migration on women’s lives in migrant sending regions. Migration in India is heavily gendered with men being away from home for long periods of time. While we are aware of the influence that migrants have on politics in destination regions, little is known about their impact on source regions in India. In this project I particularly look at the gendered consequences of migration in source region politics. My definition of political participation goes beyond voting to also incorporate civic engagement, claim-making and other interactions with state, and knowledge of politics/bureaucracy.
Here I outline some of my findings on the changes in women’s lives in teh absence of men:
- Changes in women’s lives: Women are experiencing higher levels of mobility – either to local markets or pachayat/ block offices. They are expected to travel to the GP or block office for “official work”. the increased mobility also increases their exposure and knowledge.
“You won’t believe it, but my sister knows even the name of her BDO while her husband who is away for long periods knows nothing about getting any official work done” – Broker in Bihar
2. Increased interactions with the state: The state looms large in the lives of people living in rural areas. Be it paying an electricity bill or getting the monthly ration or even seeking why they didn’t get the ration they were entitled – interactions with the state are necessary. They might also be required to fulfill paperwork to get their entitlements related to pension, MNREGA, Aadhaar etc. In the absence of men, women are expected figure out a way to get this work done (either on their own or with the help of others).
“Women have risen to the occasion by taking care of their homes, families and other official work” – Mukhiya in Bihar
3. Exposure increases political knowledge and political network: It was clear from the interviews that women in migrant households experience much higher levels of mobility which indirectly also exposes them to information on politics they would otherwise not be privy to.
“I have seen that when women go to the chauraha they hear others talking about politics and learn about candidates that are going to win. They get information that helps them with their decisions.” – Frontline worker in Araria
4. Women in local politics: Since not all men are able to go back home for local elections, women become important constituents. Politics continues to be male dominated and campaign strategies are targeted towards men, even if they are mediated through women (by asking women to request husbands to return or directly calling men to talk to their wives about whom to vote for).
Under normal circumstances fieldwork is not possible without help from local field researchers (whose knowledge and experience is invaluable). And this new normal is no different. This research would not have been possible without the invaluable help and support of Sitansu Sekhar, Chandan Kumar, and two frontline workers in Bihar. I am grateful for their time and help on all fronts.
One of the most exciting dimensions of data analysis is when you start to find patterns in your data. This summer, with the support of CASI Summer Research Funds, I have been analyzing data from 45 interviews I conducted in 2018 and 2019 with unmarried and recently married young Indians in New Delhi. As I have been re-reading the interview transcripts and coding passages for themes, I uncovered several interesting patterns that I plan to unpack in my dissertation chapters. One of these patterns was in how my respondents described the uncertainty of marriage. Interview respondents often spoke about marriage as a “gamble,” emphasizing the fact that they have little control over their marital fate. While coding the data, I discovered that the idea that marriage was a “gamble” came up in almost a dozen interviews. Here are a few quotes from different interviews which illustrate the way that respondents describe the gamble of marriage:
“Marriage is complete gamble…in arranged and love marriage… either you win or lose, there is no mid-way. If it’s a hit, it’s a hit. If it’s a flop, it’s a flop.”
“The arranged marriage set-up is such a dubious thing, I tell you. It’s a total gamble…the first three or four times you meet someone, you show them your best, you will never show your flaws.”
“I think both types of marriage are a gamble…whether it is love or arranged. With arranged, it is more of a gamble, it’s just that you have the backing of your families if something goes wrong”
Some respondents felt that both love and arranged marriage were a gamble, whereas others saw only arranged marriage as clouded in uncertainty. To the interview respondents, what made arranged marriage a gamble was the fact that you could not really know about the compatibility of the couple until after the wedding. As a result, emotional compatibility in arranged marriage was described by one respondent as “big dice.” Those in love marriages (where the marriage was preceded by a romantic relationship) often described love marriage as less uncertain because their pre-marital relationship reduced the uncertainty of married life.
Those who said that both love and arranged marriage were a gamble pointed to the fact that married life is quite different from dating. They explained that it was impossible to know your spouse’s “real nature” until you were living with them. As a result, love marriage is also a gamble. One woman summed up her views on the uncertainty of marriage by saying, “It’s luck. I have seen people who have been dating for seven or eight years, but after getting married they have problems because they cannot work together.”
This summer I worked on a chapter of my senior thesis that tracks the activities of the Ford Foundation in India between 1951-62. Since I have already blogged about my findings, I thought it would be useful to summarize the process of doing research during the pandemic.
Step 1: Complain to your friends, family, or advisor
Accessing a bunch of primary sources which you would ideally like to consult for your thesis is hard; complaining about that, though, is easy. Occasionally, complaining also results in people directing you to resources you were unaware of – in my case, the huge trove of digitized material made available through HathiTrust.
Step 2: Email archivists and librarians like your life depends on it
I am so grateful to librarians and archivists for going out of there way to fulfill my research and copy requests. The sources acquired through these requests form the backbone of the chapter I was working on. In particular, I owe a debt of gratitude to Bethany Antos (Rockefeller Archive Center), Dean Hargett (State Historical Society of Missouri) and Gary Barnhart (Merrill G. Burlingame Special Collections at Montana State University).
Step 3: Present half-baked arguments before the incredibly affirming group of CASI Fellows
The suggestions, feedback and questions I received during the monthly meeting of CASI Summer Fellows allowed me to probe deeper into my research question, and look for answers in places I had not thought of. These summer check-ins helped me stay on track and be accountable to someone who was not me.
Step 4: Understand that you will never write the ideal thesis
Even in non-pandemic situations, it would hard, if not impossible, to write the ideal thesis you planned in your head – things will go wrong and your writing calendar (if you even have one) will hardly resemble how things actually pan out. I tried to change my topic twice and to give up many more times than that, but this is not uncommon (I hope).
Step 5: Plan for the future and then abandon those plans
I hoped to seamlessly move on to the next chapter of my senior thesis after the summer. So far that process has been anything but seamless. It turns out planning is more iterative than final, so I will be trying to find the right balance between working on my thesis and focusing on my classes for the semester. This next chapter is devoted to Cold War economic theory and the role of numbers in political argumentation in India between 1962-5, and I will be turning to the work of scholars like David Engerman, Theodore Porter, Arunabh Ghosh and Sonja Amadae. Hopefully by the time I am done with the chapter, it matches this description.
I am a fifth year doctoral student in the Political Science department at the University of Pennsylvania. I hold an M.A. in Political Science from the University of Chicago and a B.A. in Psychology from St. Xavier’s College, Mumbai, where I grew up.
My research focuses on studying media and political behavior in India. My interest in studying political behavior was fueled by the summer of 2014, when India held its general election, the largest democratic exercise in the history of human civilization. The election was particularly special for me: it was the first time I was eligible to vote, and I was working on the campaign team for a Member of Parliament. I went door to door and spoke to hundreds of voters, many of whom mentioned their frustration with rising corruption in the country. The closer I looked at the election the more confused I felt; rampant corruption was visible to voters, and still it seemed to have no effect on the election outcome when as many as 186 ministers with criminal backgrounds were elected to power. Could it really be that party ID was so influential to the electorate that it was willing to
overlook corruption? Or did the extent of corruption in India actually give people a reason not just to tolerate but also to actively prefer candidates who knew how to “work the system”? As I looked for answers I realized that I did not have the insights or the data that I would need to answer them.
My experience with the 2014 election and my MA research brought to light how little we knew to answer the question of why a voter casts a ballot in a given way in the world’s largest democracy. In addition, it highlighted how little we knew about partisan identity in the Indian context. In America, scores of research studies focus on people’s attachments to parties and on partisan motivated reasoning, a phenomenon where people seek out information reinforcing prior partisan beliefs. In the world’s largest democracy, we knew little to nothing about the strength of ideology, partisan attachments, or motivated reasoning. Having little recourse to survey data – for such data simply did not exist in India – when I started my PhD I delved into the world of designing and conducting my own surveys and experiments. Little over four years since my doctoral studies began, my work is still focused on survey and experimental methods.
My dissertation, in particular, grapples with the challenges that the new world of the Internet and WhatsApp has brought to India, and my research aims to pilot and design tools to foster trust in the right kind of news and reduce the uptake of political misinformation. My research evaluates the effectiveness of interventions to combat political misinformation in India and the power of partisanship and motivated reasoning to affect information processing. To answer these questions, I develop and use experimental and survey methods to study the relationship between newer forms of media like WhatsApp and their effect on fake news, polarization, political participation, and quality of democracy.
My summer and final year dissertation research is being supported by a generous grant from the Sobti Family Foundation. This summer, I am pursuing new lines of research surrounding COVID-19 misinformation, affective polarization, and a survey on Indian-American political behavior and attitudes ahead of the 2020 US election.
As we begin a difficult fall semester, and as new projects begin to finally take shape, I look forward to updating this blog with more details on their progress.
COVID-19 has laid bare the magnitude and ubiquity of migration in India. Various sources across different studies estimate there there are over 100 million migrants in India. Economic migration in India, like in other parts of the world, is also male male dominated. In my dissertation project I look at the consequences of migration in source regions from a gendered perspective. Specifically, I look at how the absence of men due to migration is affecting women’s political lives in migrant sending regions.
Thanks to the generous support from CASI I have spent this summer conducting phone interviews with elites, frontline workers and resident men and women in Araria, Bihar. These interviews have helped me sharpen my hypothesis and make connections with those on the field so that I can hit the ground running once things begin to ease in India.
The interviews have revealed that men are away either for short duration (2-3 months) or for longer periods (8 months-1.5 years). Women experience extreme difficulties in the absence of men and often told me that they have to do things in majboori (or having no option). They take care of housework, children and official work related to ration, gas connections and other day to day work. Even though this is painful in many ways, indirectly, they experience greater exposure and empowerment.
Politics in India is considered a male arena. Through this project I aim to highlight the role played by women as political actors at the local level. The findings from this project will generate insights into our scientific understanding of women’s political empowerment, and the shifting nature of women’s interaction with political actors in the absence of men. In addition to this, it will allow us to better target policies in sending regions that specifically encourage women’s participation in the political and civic arena – a crucial driver of larger change in women’s overall well-being. Given that the nature of migration in India is identical to migration in other parts of the world, the results from this project will have wide application.
If you are like millions of people around the world, you have been binge watching Indian Matchmaking on Netflix. The reality TV show, which has generated buzz both in India and the US, follows the Mumbai-based matchmaker Sima Taparia as she scours her biodata profiles to find the best match for clients spread in cities across the US and India.
The show concludes with a roka ceremony between Sima’s clients Akshay and Radhika. A roka ceremony is a fitting conclusion to the series because the roka symbolizes that the search for a marriage partner is complete (the word roka comes from the Hindi word for stop). In a heartfelt scene Akshay’s mother, Preeti, whose frustration with her son’s indecisiveness on the marriage market had been a major plotline of the show, tells the camera “now the search ends and his new life begins with Radhika.” Its place as the concluding scene of Indian Matchmaking emphasizes the cultural significance of roka, an often-overlooked part of the marriage arrangement process in India.
This summer, with the support of a CASI Summer Research Grant, I have been analyzing interview data that I collected in 2018 and 2019 from interviews with matchmakers, parents, and both unmarried and recently married young Indians in New Delhi. These interviews are part of my dissertation project on marriage in India. My interview data suggests that roka plays a central but changing role in the arranged marriage process.
Roka ceremonies involve the exchange of gifts between the families arranging a marriage as a symbol that they have finalized the marriage negotiations and agreed to the match. Historically, the event is a muted affair and may take place in the living room of one family’s home with only a few family members gathered. Akshay and Radhika, like an increasing number of upper-class Indian families, hosted a more elaborate affair in a rented banquet hall with a catered meal and formal attire. This wedding ritual is similar to a proposal or engagement party in the United States as it signifies the beginning of an engagement period for the couple. The roka ceremony could take place anywhere from a few weeks to several months or even a year before the wedding. Though roka has its roots in Punjabi marriage practices, there is evidence to suggest that it is quite popular across much of North India. In 2016, CASI conducted a household survey in the Delhi National Capital Region (NCR) which included questions about marriage practices. Over 65% of households in the Delhi NCR reported that roka was a desirable practice in their household. The ideal gap between the roka and the wedding was, on average, 6 to 7 weeks.
The roka courtship
The qualitative evidence suggests that the period between the roka and the wedding is increasingly being used as a form of courtship for the couple to get to know each other. This is a deviation from the traditional practice where the couple was not expected or allowed to meet before the wedding. In interviews, some parents still reported that it would be inappropriate for the couple to meet during their engagement whereas others said that phone contact was ok so long as the couple was not spotted out together publicly. Regardless of the views of the older generation, the young middle-class Delhi-ites I spoke with told me that contact between the couple begins or intensifies after the roka, sometimes without the knowledge of the parents. There was significant variation in what the roka period looked like for recently married young people that I interviewed. Some couples only met or spoke on the phone a few times, preferring to wait until the marriage to get to know each other.
On the other end of the spectrum were Nishita and Sagar (all names anonymized). Their roka took place on the very same day that their families first met. After a successful afternoon meeting at a local mall, the families decided to formalize the match and went to the home of the groom to do the roka ceremony that very evening. During their two-and-a-half-month engagement, the couple was inseparable. They reported meeting two to four times a week for dates in the food court of the mall where they would sit and talk for hours over coffee. Their meetings were supported and encouraged by their parents. Nishita even attended a wedding with Sagar and his family. Nishita started calling her future mother-in-law on the phone daily, chatting with her about Sagar and learning about her future in-law family. By the time of Nishita and Sagar’s wedding they had gotten to know each other well, started integrating into each other’s families, and even worked through a few fights. Though their marriage was arranged and they did not know each other before the roka ceremony, their engagement period functioned like a courtship, allowing them to begin building the relationship that would later become their marriage.
Not all courtships are destined to end in marriage and similarly not all rokas lead to a marriage. With young people increasingly using the roka period as a test of the relationship, there are bound to be some relationships that fail the test. This may happen if there is a disagreement between the couple but can also happen over a disagreement between the families. In the 2016 CASI Delhi NCR Survey, 48.5% of households who found roka desirable reported that a couple should break the roka and call off the wedding if it becomes clear that the marriage will be unhappy. Breaking a roka was generally but not always seen as stigmatizing. Several respondents reported that women are often blamed for a roka breaking and that having a previous broken engagement would make it harder for a woman to find a new match.
Other respondents explained that it simply wasn’t acceptable to call off an engagement in their community. Ankita, a young woman who was married two years before our interview explained that, “After the roka there were a lot of differences between us. We both thought that we shouldn’t go through with this marriage, but [within] our society, our family, once the engagement has happened, nothing can happen.” Despite the fact that Ankita and her husband realized their incompatibility during the roka period, they felt unable to call off their wedding because of a strong social taboo within their community.
In other communities, however, broken rokas have become quite common. In fact, even Akshay and Radhika’s marriage didn’t pan out. The Los Angeles Times reported that none of the couples matched on Indian Matchmaking are still together. When reached for an interview by the paper, Akshay reported that they called off the wedding just a few days after the roka. He did not give a reason for why they ended their engagement.
A broken roka can be embarrassing for both families involved. Concerned about the increasing willingness of young people to call off their engagement due to a conflict, some parents are considering strategies to prevent them from doing so. Several parents that I interviewed said that they intended to have a short engagement specifically for the purpose of reducing the likelihood of a broken roka. Kriti, a mother whose son and daughter are both approaching marriageable age, explained why she thought the engagement period should be much shorter than a year noting that, “In a year there are many things you find out about each other, good and bad, and then there is no interest left… The beauty of an arranged marriage is that there are so many things you learn only much later about each other, and whether they’re good or bad, we can adapt to them.”
Kriti’s comment reveals how much long roka courtships are changing arranged marriage in India. Extending the amount of time that a couple gets to know each other both before and after the roka is an increasingly common modification of the traditional process. This has led some to argue that the distinction between “love marriage” and arranged marriage has become fuzzy. It’s likely that these trends will continue as young people push for a larger role in the process of selecting their marriage partner.
I have been working on the role played by the Kinsey Institute in the history of sexual science in post-colonial and contemporary India. My decision to work on the Kinsey Institute specifically was prompted by the accessibility of digitized archives of the institute. As I near the end of my research, I am glad that I undertook the project. Though the project started as being centered on the significance of the Kinsey Institute in Indian sexual history, I have been able to use the sources to paint a broader picture about the wider history of sexual science during this period. This project has also helped to broaden the temporal scope of my dissertation project which I had initially thought of concluding by the late 1950s or early 60s at the latest. But having found a significant number of sources from the 1980s and later, I have been convinced to extend my study further into the contemporary history of sexuality in India.
In my last post, I had raised a question relating to the conspicuous absence of women from the correspondences sent to or by the Institute and or even generally when it came to discussions on sexuality in India in the Kinsey institute archives. Having gone through a few more files, I did come across references to female sexologists who participated in the 7th World Sexology Conference which took place in Delhi in 1985. The event, as I mentioned in my last post, the was widely covered by the press. The Philadelphia Inquirer interestingly ran a feature on it as a number of sexologists from the Society for the Scientific Study of Sex (SSSS), based in Philadelphia, participated in the conference. The female sexologist chose to remain anonymous as she commented on the total absence of any sexual rights that women enjoyed in the developing worlds of Africa and Asia. Though the aim of the conference was to reduce the stigma surrounding sexuality and introduce a discourse on sex education, the Indian media appeared scandalized by the fact that the word ‘sex’ was used ten thousand times a day during the conference and chose not to cover it. The stigma surrounding sex and the conference also resulted in the then health minister, Mohsina Kidwai “respectfully” declining an invitation to inaugurate the conference on account of being Muslim and a woman.The Philadelphia Inquirer feature on the 7th World Sexology Conference, New Delhi, 1985.
Apart from the conference, I also came across an interesting letter written to the Kinsey Institute by Professor H.C Ganguli, who had established the Psychology Department in Delhi University in 1964. Ganguli wanted to spearhead a research on sexuality at Delhi University and wrote to the Institute in 1967 requesting material beyond Kinsey’s reports. Ganguli was particularly interested to know more about the methodology employed by Kinsey and his colleagues as he was beginning to devise a similar study in India. Facts such as these have given me another anchor to conduct further research study in India and know more about the history of sexual science in the post-colonial context.Professor H.C. Ganguli(1924-2013)
Another interesting aspect of sexology emerged as I read through a correspondence between the Institute and a biographer of Sir Richard Burton. Burton was a colonial officer and ethnographer who had travelled through the British Empire and was posted in Sindh in 1844. He would later establish the Hindoo Kamashastra Society in London along with F.F. Arbuthnot and translate into English, among other works, the Kama Sutra and the Arabian Nights. Burton came up with the theory of the “Sotadic Zone” which was a geographical zone right from the Mediterranean and the Middle East up to the South China sea in the east which included South Asia. According to Burton inhabitants of this zone were particularly licentious and predisposed to homosexuality. Burton interestingly cited an Italian sexologist of the times to “prove” how the nerve endings of the genitals of the inhabitants of the Sotadic Zone were connected to their anal region which explained their predisposition to homosexuality. Byron Farwell, as he wrote a biography of Burton in the 1960s wrote to the Kinsey Institute asking whether there was any truth to Burton’s ideas about the sexuality of the “oriental races.” Paul Gebhard, who was the director of the Institute from 1956 onward replied to Farwell stating that Burton’s views could be attributed to cultural and colonial bias rather scientific facts. What was interesting to me in this exchange was the way in which sexology was used by both Byron and Burton for truth making claims about sexuality albeit in different contexts.Richard Burton
As I wrap up this summer project and prepare my final presentation, I will be highlighting the findings I made by accessing these sources from the archives of the Kinsey Institute and how it will fit into my larger project on the history of sexual science in modern and contemporary South Asia.
This summer I have been working towards completing the second chapter of my honors thesis in Science, Technology and Society. In this chapter, I trace the history of the Ford Foundation in India from 1951-1965, paying close attention to its 1959 Report on India’s Food Crisis and Steps to Meet It.
By so doing, I make two interrelated arguments. First, that the development experts working for the FF irrevocably conceived of India as a country of peasants, and believed that any departure from a village-centric, rural-oriented and food-first strategy of development would, therefore, be fundamentally flawed. The work of Arturo Escobar and James Ferguson on development discourse, and Daniel Immerwahr’s excellent study of the India’s community development program in the 1950s has proven particularly generative here.
The second argument I make is that it was in large part due to the Western development expert’s village fetish that the Ford Foundation warned about a food crisis in India in 1959. The FF report reached the “inescapable conclusion” that if India was to continue pursuing rapid industrialization through the Second and Third five-year plans, as opposed to a food-first rural development program, India would face an unprecedented food crisis which no amount of foreign imports would be able to alleviate.
Crisis served as an incredibly potent tool to the FF to argue for what it considered the ideal kind of development in the Third World. They knew that the bigger the crisis, the bigger the potential for change. FF staff have written about the 1959 crisis and many other ones in India with remarkable self-awareness about crisis talk. Douglas Ensminger, for instance, who was the FF’s Chief Representative to India and Pakistan between 1954-70, complained that leaders of developing countries were riddled with complacency and that “timing and opportunity must either exist or be created to provide both the stimulus and guidance for change.”
Completing the chapter proved more difficult due to closure of archives and libraries, but the archivists I have spoken to have gone out of their way to facilitate my research. I am incredibly grateful to Dean Hargett at the State Historical Society of Missouri, Bethany Antos at the Rockefeller Archives, and Gary Barnhart at the Montana State University Library for making their collections accessible even during a pandemic.
Some records from the State Historical Society of Missouri’s collection on Douglas Ensminger, courtesy of Dean Hargett, Acquisition Librarian.
Soon I will be switching gears to work on a different chapter, which looks at the normative makings of ‘crisis’ by examining computer models that development economists used to declare a food crisis in India, partly motivated by their frustration with India’s industry-first strategy of development. More on that would be found in my next blog post!
Thanks to the financial support and intellectual community fostered by CASI, I completed the interview data collection for my dissertation this summer. I conducted 26 interviews with Indian citizens living in the U.S. and India who have some migration experience in the U.S., either for studies or for work. The interviews covered their motivations for migration, their experiences at U.S. universities and companies, and the factors that played into their decision to stay in the U.S. or return to India.
I am starting to analyze these interviews, as well as the larger interview and employment history data sets I constructed and am working on a journal submission reporting on the results of this mixed-methods project. The results of this study suggest that immigration policies play an important role in regulating the flow and nature of international student migration streams, and lead to simultaneous convergence and divergence in the educational attainment and field of study between Indian international students studying in the U.S., and their domestically educated peers in India. Many students have multinational educations, but the balance of students moving between Indian and U.S. universities leans heavily towards the United States. Indian international students are more concentrated in STEM majors than their non-migrant peers, and funnel into certain concentrations in engineering.
These findings are significant because they illustrate the ways that the very conditions enabling global integration in higher education can simultaneously contribute to a diversification of knowledge production in specific country contexts. Migration policy enables the partial convergence U.S. and Indian universities and labor markets as student and work visas contribute to the growth of international student enrollment and multinational educations, but the design of these immigration policies also leads to an asymmetrical flow of international students, and funnels international students into certain fields of study, creating divergence between international and domestic student educational attainment. And unpredictable fluctuations in migration policy related to higher education, like Trump’s announcement that was rescinded a week later about international student enrollment requirements to maintain visa status during the pandemic, can create stress and disruptions in students’ academic plans that can influence future enrollment behavior.
My next step for this project is to analyse the settlement patterns of Indian migrants by place of education.
In the past few weeks, much of my time for this research has been devoted to learning about maternal health care systems in India. For starters, how do new mothers choose a hospital for their care? What are the differences between private and public hospitals that motivate these choices? How do mothers choose an OB/GYN? How do they pay for these appointments? How are decisions made with the whole family? More importantly, how do doctors guide their patients through these decisions?
As I’ve read through more literature this summer, one of the biggest gaps I have seen is the lack of geographically-centered research on this issue in Telangana and Andhra Pradesh, as well as a dearth of extensive qualitative research methods used. Rising rates of C-sections is, by nature, a problem that is seen across all developing countries, as they reform their medical systems to reduce maternal mortality. Greater technological dependency in medicine has unknowingly placed surgery and other medical interventions on a pedestal over preventative care and noninvasive methods. As patient awareness grows over time, the role of the patient and family in medical decision-making increases, as well. Before the doctor can make a decision on patient safety and method of delivery during labor, many patients consult their own peers and research to present their own decision. Such decisions are influenced by many factors, such as their understanding of the pros and cons of each delivery method, pain tolerance, financial background, and more. Such factors seem to be playing a greater role more recently, as seen by these rising rates.
Over the last few weeks, as I began talking to more medical professionals who see and assist new mothers during childbirth, one of the most prevalent topics has been the patient side of decision-making. It has been interesting to hear providers speak about how violence against doctors and income status can sway decisions made by patients and providers. For example, a patient’s social status and financial capability can go so far as to motivate their decision to get a C-section. In such cases, patients’ families may be equating higher class to “better” care in the form of a C-section. From the providers’ end, an influencing factor can be the social pressure that comes in the form of violence against medical professionals. Many doctors cite fear of violence to be a factor in choosing the more predictable route of a caesarean delivery, even when this surgical procedure may be unnecessary.
Under such circumstances, it has been informative to learn of the various social factors that can impact medical decisions beyond the science itself. This also reveals the need for research to fill these gaps and ultimately explore the issues in an open-ended, qualitative manner that can then inform policy and health initiatives more precisely.
The experience of interviewing Indian medical professionals right from my bedroom has been challenging yet memorable for all these reasons. While phone interviews may not capture the full qualitative research experience that I had hoped for, it has given me a look into what a day in the hospital could look like and how a visit to the doctor entails so much more beyond sheer medicine itself. Interviews like these have motivated me to explore the political, social, and economic histories of these medical institutions that influence these trends in maternal health from the origin.
As a part of my project for the summer, I have been looking at the role played by the Kinsey Institute in the history of sexual science in India in the period between the 1940s and the 1980s. This project is a part of my larger dissertation project on the history of sexual science in India. The dissertation project has a broader temporal scope spanning from the 1880s into the second half of the 20th century. However, for this summer project, I have chosen to restrict myself to the Kinsey Institute primarily due to the availability of digitized archival material made accessible by the institute. There are 548 files with multiple documents referencing India in the digital archives of the Institute. I have not been able to study all of them, until now, but based on my study of roughly half the documents, I have been able to categorize them under three broad themes.
The first theme under which I have categorized the sources is related to sexology conferences that were organized both in the US and India between the 1960s and 80s. The most prominent conference which witnessed participation by psychologists and sexologists from all over the world was the 7th World Conference on Sexology. It was widely covered in the press. Subjects included for discussion in the conference varied widely ranging from the usual discussions on sexual disorders, venereal diseases, and sexual categories to more contextual topics such as the necessity of sex education in India.A newsletter of the Indian Association of announcing the 7th World Conference of Sexology in the “Land of Kamasutra.”
The next group of sources that I have come across refer to letters written by researchers at the Kinsey Institute and Indians interested in sexual science requesting for books and materials. Among the requests from India most seem to complain about the lack of access to material that would address topics covered by sexology and sex ed. Many of the Indians are doctors, academics and some also claim to be individual activists of sexual science and sex. There are multiple requests for the Kinsey’s reports and permission to translate and publish them in India, most of which are denied. From the point of view of the Kinsey Institute a lot of interest in India emerges out of a curiosity with erotic sculptures and the transsexuals known as hijras in India, almost along the lines of an Orientalist perspective on sexuality in India. The Indians who write to the Kinsey institute requesting books and other materials are often times asked by the researchers to reciprocate their gesture by sending some photographs and other textual material from India. In this context one letter written by Paul Gebhard, who succeeded Kinsey as the director of the Institute in 1956 is interesting and significant. It refers to the US customs department seizing erotic sculptures and painting and therefore requests photographs to be sent in regular sized envelopes and ensure that they are not too heavy.Paul Gebhard, the director of the Kinsey Institute requesting research material on “eunuchs” in India
The third group of sources that I wanted to highlight are requests by individuals from India wishing to seek sex advice or research fellowships at the institute. One question that I had was why would somebody experiencing sexual problems in India want to write to the Kinsey Institute in Indiana seeking a remedy? Most of these requests came from Indians who were travelers and had visited Europe or North America. One of them was a man about to get married but he had been experiencing premature ejaculation and had not found help among Indian sexologists. He had come to know of the Kinsey Institute during his travels in Europe and wrote to them hoping to get a solution. Another individual, M A Hai, from Hyderabad was a doctor visiting the United States and he went on to personally meet Kinsey and also participated in research workshops with him. Later letters written by Hai from India reveal that he wanted to carry out sexual surveys to find out where the “Oriental man” was different in his sexual response from the American male.One of the letters written by Kinsey to Hai, where he even expresses an interest to visit India someday.
A conspicuous absence from the sources that I have studied until now has been the voices of women. We known that female sexuality was a part of Kinsey’s research and the second volume of his sex survey published in 1953 was dedicated to it. However, women or the subject of female sexuality has not been a part of the sources that I have studied until now. In the broader history of sexual science in India, male actors undoubtedly outnumbered women, but women were not entirely absent. There have been indigenous Ayurvedic practitioners such as Yashoda Devi in the United Provinces in the 1920s and 30s who wrote extensively on sexuality. Birth control activists such as Margaret Sanger and Marie Stopes have also been interested in India. As I continue to explore more of these sources, I would like to see whether the silence around female sexuality is recurrent all through the sources. Though, I should mention here that my search due to the present circumstances is only restricted to the digitized material.
I’ve conducted and transcribed 17 interviews so far this summer, 13 with people currently working in India and four with people currently working in the U.S. holding H-1B visas. Since our last meeting, there have been major policy changes to both the H-1B program in the U.S. and the student visa program, with significant implications for students’ academic plans for the fall and ability to stay in the country.
At the end of June, Trump blocked the issuance of H-1B and J-1 visas, which also bars migrants from entering the country on an H-1B visa, until at least the end of the year. While the order does not seem to affect migrants currently in the U.S. on a current H-1B visa, it might complicate visa renewals, and limit migrants’ ability to leave the country for an ambiguous period of time. Last week, ICE announced an end to a waiver implemented at the beginning of the COVID shutdown, which allowed international students taking online classes to remain in the country on an F-1 or M-1 visa. The change in the policy stipulates that international students must be taking in-person classes to maintain visa status, which creates health risks and particular complications for students whose universities are online-only in the fall.
I am waiting for the dust to settle on both of these orders before interviewing H-1B holders and F-1 holders on these topics, as the news has unfolded quickly in the last few weeks and plans are changing. In the interest of giving respondents some time to process these developments for themselves and not overburden them during a busy and stressful time (and to collect data that more accurately reflects the broader context) I am going to wait a few more weeks before interviewing people on these two topics, though they are very relevant to my project.
As such, I’ve been focusing on interviewing return migrants in India. I’ve found data collection during the shutdown to be both challenging and rewarding. Social distancing has created some unique logistical complications, from travel restrictions preventing in-person interviews to technical issues with connectivity and WhatsApp, to finding a time with the nine-and-a-half-hour time change when both my respondents and I are awake and not working.
But the particularities of this moment have led to a surprising richness of data collection. First, because many respondents have more flexible schedules working from home, they are not in a rush to get through the interview, and I’ve found the interviews have lasted longer and respondents are more open to sharing with me. I’ve also tried to leverage the unique moment as a point of contrast for people’s “normal” daily lives before the pandemic, to highlight specific routines, work experiences or behaviors that individuals normally would not be attuned to. Because I’m not able to observe respondents’ office settings in person, I’m trying to pull out as much detail and specificity about their workplace experiences in the interviews themselves.
The nature of the pandemic and the way it’s impacted my respondents’ lives has offered new perspectives into my research questions as well. Challenges related to working from home, balancing childcare responsibilities with a spouse, and navigating expectations from bosses, has given me new insight into the tricky balance of responsibilities and pressures that many respondents in my sample face, especially working moms. And even before the changes to the H-1B in the U.S. were announced, prior travel restrictions and the heightened significance of citizenship has raised some questions for respondents currently living in the United States about their long-term settlement plans, wanting to be closer to family, and having concerns about visa processing while immigration offices are closed.
I am a rising fourth year PhD Candidate at the Department of Political Science at Penn. I grew up in Bombay, India and moved here to the US in 2017 to start my PhD. My research interests lie at the intersection of gender, urbanization and political participation in India.
My dissertation project looks at the influence of circular male migration on the political participation of left-behind women in India. Specifically, I ask: Does the absence of men due to circular internal economic migration create a condition for women in sending communities to turn politically active? If so, are these effects significantly different for long-term and short-term internal male migration? Also, do they persist even after men return? I aim to study this in the context of rural Bihar, India.
In order to answer these questions I will use a mixed methods approach that will rely on observational data, survey data and qualitative interviews. This summer I will be conducting qualitative phone interviews with elites in low and high migration regions in the state. The goal is to collect information on the types of changes that are occurring in women’s lives and at the village level in terms of political participation and interaction with the state.
I look forward to updating this blog with my findings from these interviews over the course of the summer.
I am a doctoral student in City and Regional Planning at the University of Pennsylvania. My summer dissertation research is being supported by the CASI summer research grant. As a planner, I am interested in how urban space is constructed. In particular, how informal space is formed by the critical relationship that defines it – the state that defines legitimate use of space, and informality that negotiates the use of urban space.
My dissertation project seeks to understand how these relationships define the lived experience of urban informality in Ga-Mashie (Accra, Ghana) and Fort Kochi (Kerala, India). In both sites, the underlying informality is comparable; what is different is the lived experience of informality. The problem, simply put, is a question of why two similar cases differ in their interaction with the state, and whether this has an impact on the lived experience of informality, and how this plays out in the growth and development of these places?
Across the world, two billion of the world’s employed population worked informally in 20181, and across all developing regions of the world, just under one billion people lived in slums in 20142. These numbers hide regional variation. For example, urban employment in India was 70 per cent in the last census3, and 88 per cent in Ghana in the last Labour Force Survey4. For urban planners, the need to define and maintain a hegemony of what I call, the “planned normal” or a desired shape of the city drives practice. Urban planners employ plans, zoning regulations, and even policy instruments that shape a city’s built environment to this end. With these tools, they aim to bring into line, anything deviating from this planned normal, defining a hegemony for the city, which the city’s residents are expected to follow. In everyday life in the global south, however, the planned normal is an aberration, often confined to a few parts of the city (if at all) where regulations and formal governance institutions prevail. Instead, the dominant hegemony is organic and informal.
Given that the pandemic restricts my being in the field, this summer, I will focus on visual ethnography techniques, in particular, photo-voice with participants in Fort Kochi. Over the last two summers of fieldwork, photography played a key role in generating dialogue among my participants about the ways in which they defined, structured, and navigated everyday space in the city. Using photo-voice, I hope to generate participant narratives about everyday spatial choices and memorialised and inherited space. Doing so also allows me to structure interviews around the photographs participants have taken – why are these views of space important to them? What do they consider the defining aspects of those spaces photographed?
1 ILO. 2018. Women and men in the informal economy: A statistical picture Geneva: International Labour Organisation.
2 UN-HABITAT. 2016. Slum Almanac 2015/16: Tracking improvement in the lives of slum dwellers. Nairobi: United Nations Human Settlements Program.
3Chen, Martha, and Govindan Raveendran. 2011. Urban India 2011: Evidence. Bangalore: Indian Institute for Human Settlements.
4Baah-Boateng, William, and Joann Vanek. 2020. “Informal workers in Ghana: A Statistical Snapshot.” WEIGO Statistical Brief 21:1- 12.
I am Neelu Paleti, a rising undergraduate senior studying Health and Societies with a concentration in Health Policy. This summer I will be conducting my senior thesis project, tentatively titled Modern Births?: The Construction of Power, Choice, and Safety of Caesarean Deliveries in South India. This research stems from my broader interests in maternal and child health, institutionalization of care, government-led health policy, and the evolving doctor-patient relationship in India. Though originally from Columbus, OH, I have experienced many different facets of India through my parents and extended family, who are all from the South Indian state of Andhra Pradesh. These experiences and stories of their interactions with the country’s medical system have piqued my interest to study the complexities of healthcare in this region.
When considering maternal healthcare and childbirth, one of the biggest patterns seen across many different parts of the world is the rise in C-section deliveries over traditional vaginal births. Over the past several decades, research has shown more and more mothers undergoing surgery to deliver their babies for a host of reasons. While a caesarean delivery has historically served as an emergency option during pregnancy complications, the World Health Organization deems that such “medically necessary” caesarean deliveries are required only for about 10-15% of all births. The problem that South India is facing is the rise of elective “medically unnecessary” caesarean deliveries that use more healthcare resources but do not necessarily contribute to any improvements in maternal mortality indices.
A 2015-16 version of India’s National Family and Health Survey has shown the rates of caesarean deliveries in Telangana and Andhra Pradesh to be 58% and 40.1% of all deliveries, the two highest rates across the nation. Moreover, 41% of all deliveries in private healthcare facilities in India are C-sections, increasing from 28% in the 2005-6 survey. This compares to around 30% C-section rates in the US. The question raised here asks why in particular are the rates in these South Indian states comparatively so high? What differentiates this procedure in this region of India that formulates this number? Such data has drawn the attention of providers, policymakers, and patients across the country who are now beginning to question the medical necessity of this procedure and the social forces shaping such trends of childbirth.C-section rates across India, 2010-16
For the past several decades, India has been fighting to salvage its poor maternal mortality rates and ensure better patient outcomes. Many of the safe motherhood initiatives taken by the national and local governments aimed to raise the number of institutional births. As seen in the case of the Janani Suraksha Yojana, mothers were oftentimes even paid to deliver in a hospital, thereby equating institutionalization of childbirth with lower maternal deaths and safer outcomes. However, many of the secondary consequences, such as higher C-section rates, that came with this measure were never fully addressed.
My project will research the underlying themes of the power and agency of mothers and families in the decision-making process of childbirth, as well as the dynamic of the doctor-patient relationship, especially in private healthcare settings. Through remote interviews with providers, I will contextualize the already existing quantitative research on the rates of C-sections within the nuanced circumstances of pain, family intervention, governmental regulation, and provider convenience more qualitatively. Interviews with healthcare providers in the hospital will portray how the formal education of obstetricians, payment incentives, overall attitudes towards patient populations, and awareness of this rate of C-sections influence the methods of delivery they recommend and use. I hope to contextualize these current themes within the historical evolution of maternal healthcare and midwifery in postcolonial India. Ultimately, this research around caesarean deliveries in South India speaks to larger themes of choice, social control, modernity, and gender, amongst many more that draw from the disciplines of history and anthropology to contextualize health in these communities.
I am a doctoral candidate in sociology and demography at the University of Pennsylvania whose research is supported by a 2020 CASI Summer Research Grant.
I grew up in Mesa, Arizona and completed my bachelor’s degree at the University of Arizona in 2012 in international studies. As an undergraduate, I spent a year in India through a study-abroad program that helped solidify my interest in India and the study of Indian society. After graduation, I returned to India on a Fulbright-Nehru Student Research Fellowship where I studied the impact of seasonal labor migration on education in Rajasthan. I then moved to Philadelphia where I worked as the Research Coordinator at CASI before joining the PhD program in sociology and demography at Penn in 2015.
As a social demographer, I am interested in how social and cultural factors impact various dimensions of population composition or change over time. My main research interests are in gender, family, and social inequality in India. I also do research on family and kinship in other social contexts such as the United States.
My dissertation project will be comprised of three papers on marriage in contemporary India. This summer, with the support of CASI, I will be working on the analysis and writing of my first and second dissertation papers. The first examines how young people and their families manage uncertainty in marriage decisions and utilizes interview data collected with the support of CASI Summer Travel Funds in 2018. The second paper will use survey data to examine patterns of homogamy in India.
I am Tathagat Bhatia, a rising senior in the College of Arts and Sciences from Lucknow, India. I’m majoring in Science, Technology & Society in the Department of History & Sociology of Science, and minoring in Russian. This summer I am working on my senior thesis, tentatively titled “Development Dreams: Exporting U.S. Expertise to Postcolonial India, 1947-72.” My project hopes to explore how Cold War-era U.S. agronomists, sociologists and bureaucrats sought to produce an “India” whose path to development was decidedly agricultural rather than industrial. According to these experts, India was so fundamentally ridden with problems of hunger and overpopulation that any attempt by the Indian government to pursue large-scale industrialization at the cost of agricultural reform was tragically misguided, if not reckless.
I find this story particularly compelling because of the persistence of this paternalism even in contemporary regimes of development. Every time India launches a rocket into space, for example, I notice how there is an immediate flurry of criticism from Western observers who wonder whether a country as poor as India should even be investing in space research when it could be feeding hungry mouths. Through this project I want to show how there is a history to this kind of reasoning which demands developing countries to pursue food-first development strategies.
U.S. Cold War imperatives coincided with its mission to “develop” the so-called “Third World” to advance a particular form of development which was most suitable to U.S. interests. By the early 1960s, there was a growing realization in the U.S. Department of Agriculture that even as the Soviet Union might overtake the U.S. in many industrial fields, it would be a while before they catch up to it in agricultural production and efficiency. Hoping to capitalize on their advantage in this sector, governmental agencies such as the USDA and the State Department worked in concert with nongovernmental actors like the Ford Foundation to encourage what they considered inherently American agricultural practices in non-aligned countries like India. Over the summer I will be reading more about these extension programs through U.S. land-grant universities and colleges for training Indian agricultural workers. I argue that inherent in the activities of these programs is the assumption that an agricultural approach to development was the only way to solve problems such as hunger and poverty in India.
Frank Shuman, an agricultural extension officer from the University of Illinois, being honored with a garland that reads “Hail Nitrogen” in Allahabad in 1955, in response to his fierce fertilizer promotion campaign in the district. Source: Internet Archive.
However, not everyone was keen about a food-first strategy. Jawaharlal Nehru was a firm believer in industrialization as the path to modernization, much to the chagrin of U.S. actors, most notably President Lyndon B. Johnson, who was becoming increasingly frustrated with India’s non-aligned stance even as millions of tons of food aid made its way from the corn fields of Iowa to the ports of Bombay and Vizag. According to Douglas Ensminger, the Ford Foundation’s representative to India and Pakistan from 1951-70, the problem was that India’s Five-Year Plans were devoting more and more resources to steel mills, not fertilizer plants, which was unacceptable to people like Johnson. Eventually, Johnson instituted a “short-tether” policy towards India, holding food aid hostage until the Indian government was ready to channel resources out of industrialization schemes and into agricultural reform. I hope to use moments such as this one to illustrate the pervasiveness of the food and agriculture binary in U.S. development ideals in postcolonial India.
The biggest challenge I am facing presently is access to libraries and archives. In the first place, I decided to center this story about development around U.S. actors, since access to Indian records has been curtailed due to the pandemic. But the records of not all U.S. agencies and institutions have been digitized to the same extent. The State Department, for example, has done a really good job of making reports, memos and letters available to the public, but the USDA and the Ford Foundation’s records are significantly lacking. The sources from these organizations which have been digitized include agency reports and policy recommendations, rather than personal records of the people involved, which presents only the official side of things. However, I feel confident that between coronavirus restrictions being relaxed and the wonderful service of requesting archives to scan and deliver certain documents, I would have enough sources to tell this story.
Hello! My name is Vikrant Dadawala, and I’m a Ph.D candidate in English and Cinema Studies. My areas of interest include science fiction, the global Cold War, middlebrow cinema, South Asian literature, and South African literature. I’m currently employed as a Summer Instructor and Critical Speaking Fellow at Penn. Before moving to the U.S for graduate school, I’ve worked as a journalist in Mumbai and as a volunteer social worker in rural Jharkhand.
My doctoral dissertation, ‘The Decades of Disillusionment: India and the World, 1960-1990’, analyzes themes of disappointment and heartbreak in modern Indian literature and cinema. Part I of the project focuses on the literature of moha bhang [Hindi: ‘broken love’, ‘disillusionment’] from the period between the death of Prime Minister Nehru and the declaration of the Emergency (1964-1975) — a time of war, famine scares, and political turmoil. Part II turns to Indian New Wave cinema to chart the slow unravelling of “Nehruvian socialism” in the period between the Emergency and the demolition of the Babri Mosque in 1992. Drawing on literary sources and archival research, my work offers a new perspective on topics such as the cultural Cold War in India; socialist intellectual culture in the Hindi belt; structural transformations in the English and Hindi public spheres post-Independence; and the rise of Hindu nationalism.
This summer, supported by a research grant from CASI, I will be working on the third chapter of my doctoral dissertation. The chapter, tentatively titled ‘The Indo-Anglians in Search of the World’, is a critical reflection on the legacy of the first generation of postcolonial Indian writers in English — writers like Santha Rama Rau, Ruth Prawer Jhabvala, Dom Moraes, and Adil Jussawalla — whose itinerant lives and melancholic temperament made them invaluable witnesses to the period that I call India’s “decades of disillusionment”. Over the next two months, as the chapter takes shape, I will be sharing snippets of my research on this blog. More soon!
For now, here’s a brief introduction to some of the figures I will be writing about: