It seems a fair assessment to make, that till about a decade ago, those of us living in the urban west in India were reasonably, if not excessively, confident of our place in the nation’s consciousness. The relative prosperity of our region, its much-vaunted progressiveness, its political significance and the presence of local leaders who had the ear and trust of leaders at the Centre all contributed to the absence of any acute concern on that score.

We did not suffer anxieties about distance or linguistic neglect or identify with the sort of separatist tendencies that have been so much a part of the history of the North-east and have surfaced at various times in places as far apart as Chennai and Chandigarh. Rumblings of discontent may have been heard from time to time from high taxpayers in Mumbai about the niggardly flow of funds and inattentiveness from the Centre but the complaints were never of any major consequence. The average lad in Gandhinagar, with his eye fixed on global prospects, was probably even less likely to be concerned about his place in the country’s imagination.

The first time perhaps that I had occasion to question these assumptions was at the time of the 2001 earthquake in Gujarat, a time that coincided, ironically, with the expansion of the media. Journalists from the national and international media, swarming in droves to cover the devastation, found themselves waxing eloquent about the ‘Gujarati entrepreneurial spirit’ that had emerged in quick response to the disaster. They talked with wonder about the efficiency with which local organisations and non-resident Gujaratis had set up relief operations, of people refusing handouts and of housewives who had set up kitchen camps offering food not just to victims but also to visiting journalists. A colleague who had traveled from Delhi to cover the story was particularly struck with the contrast this surge of self-reliance presented with her experience in Orissa which had been hit by a cyclone 14 months before.

... contd.