Celebrating spring with half truths and the politics of porn

A half truth is like a bikini: what we see is beautiful but only in the context of what we do not see. Half truths are more beautiful than the complete truth (which is often bitter and tough to digest) because a half truth is also a half lie. Anyone who has ever half lied knows that while it may not be the complete truth, a half lie can be beautiful to the point of being fantastic and is often esoteric to the point of being otherworldly. Like a fallen hero or a fallen angel, a half truth, or a half lie, represents the victory of our imagination over the depressingly dull and often meaningless but messy reality we find ourselves in. Meditating on the above axiom, one can easily make the next logical connection: a bikini is like a politician.

A bikini is a piece of cloth (actually two, unless one is holidaying with Hugh Hefner), yet it stands for nakedness; a politician is chosen by the people democratically, yet stands for corruption. By constantly negating the very meaning they are supposed to symbolise, the bikini and the politician stand out as the abstractions of choice in the national consciousness every time a young nation like ours chooses to have a conversation with itself.

Let me give you an example of a half truth: politicians, especially conservative politicians, love watching porn. Such is their passion for porn that they cannot help but watch porn clips on their smart phones in parliament or in the state assembly like teenagers with raging hormones cannot help but read Playboy and masturbate on the back benches while the class is in progress.

Consider the curious case of Laxman Savadi, Karnataka’s former woman and child welfare minister. Savadi was found watching a porn clip in the state assembly on television and had to resign from his post. Savadi, a high-ranking officer of the state’s moral brigade, did not know what hit him when the news broke out, and in order to save his skin and the skin of those who were caught in the act with him, he decided to come clean and came out with a bikini version of the truth.

“We did no wrong by watching a video clip of a rave incident in a foreign country to know what a rave party is. But we do not want the party and the government to face further embarrassment. All of us have resigned,” said Savadi in a statement.

Have you seen the video that has got the Karnataka ministers in trouble? It’s okay if you haven’t because the video is not pornographic in nature. (If you have seen the video and disagree with me, I propose we meet up and I give you a crash course in porn, covering everything from Latino to Linda Lovelace to Pierre Woodman in Paris, plus a crash course in Indian porn that covers, but isn’t limited to, the massively popular multi-camera genre of devar-bhahbi porn.)

I trust Savadi when he says he was watching the clip to understand what a rave party is. I think he is speaking the truth. I don’t expect our moral police to visit a psychedelic rave party to conclude it is immoral, which is why I think it is okay to watch a clip for educational purposes. So far so good. Here’s the bikini bit: The minister lied when he said he was watching a rave in a foreign country. In reality, the rave took place in his state. The rave incident Savadi mentioned was part of the recent Karnataka Spring Festival.

Our national obsessions obscure the truth. Currently, the country is obsessed with porn. As I write, during a public debate televised by an English news channel, I can see a woman my mother’s age, a college professor unlike my mother, talk about how filthy the political system has became, how easy it is, thanks to technology, for a politician to be lazy in the state assembly, and how haughtily the political class hoodwinks the country. The reporter moderating the debate, a woman in her late twenties or early 30s, makes an important point. “So the problem isn’t porn. Is it laziness then?” she rhetorically asks a group of girl students, and wonders if porn should be legalised? Many students say yes. I switch the telly off and go back to writing.

I heard about the Karnataka Spring Festival clip from a friend the day Savadi was caught watching it. First we see a stage. Next the camera follows two people, a girl wearing blue shorts and a blonde man with dreadlocks, as they leave the stage and move to a carpeted area where a number of people, perhaps under the influence of alcohol or mind altering drugs, are dancing oblivious to the world.

The girl and the blonde settle down on the carpet and start having sex but no one pays any special attention to them. We do not know how long the two copulated or whether the man was using protection or not because the video is unclear and doesn’t show the sexual congress in detail. It simply loops the first bit, when the couple settles down on the carpet and begin copulating, over and over again.

Can you now imagine how angry Savadi must be? A rave took place in his state and he did not know about it. Foreigners fornicated in the rave in full public view and the minister had not even a clue.

What was he thinking when he was watching the video: how did the blonde with the dreadlocks and the girl in the blue get a visa to India? What position is that? Who told them about the rave party?

What kind of drugs did they consume before committing the sensationally shameful act of public copulation? But by the time Savadi was getting his act right, he was caught in the act. Poor Savadi cannot even express his political anger publicly because people responsible for the rave are his colleagues in the cabinet.

The truth isn’t half as funny as the half truth; it is wrapped in self-conscious irony, which makes it 10 times more depressing: the three ministers were not watching porn, they were watching the truth but no one, not even their own party colleagues, have any time for the truth at a time when five states are going to polls. Till then the nation must entertain itself with the half truth.

Mayank Tewari is a writer