Work with MTV Italy

My brother, who was working as an Italian interpreter for MTV Italy, asked me to assist them in Benares and Allahabad. They were working on a documentary titled *Camminando*, a joint production between MTV Italy and LA7 (Channel 7). They were in Lucknow when they contacted me, and their next stop was Allahabad, where they wanted to film Patalpuri Temple and the ghats, but they didn’t have any contacts or a clear plan for the shoot. I was tasked with selecting characters and scheduling interviews in both Benares and Allahabad, with only four days to complete the work.

I reached out to Mr. Shubhranshu Chowdhary, who had been my boss during the CBC documentary, to see if he knew anyone in Allahabad. He provided me with the contact information of a journalist in Benares, who then connected me with another journalist in Allahabad. The following day, I traveled to Allahabad and met the journalist. We visited all the locations MTV wanted to film, including the Patalpuri Temple, which is located within Akbar’s fort and is now a military base. Despite our attempts to contact the army officers, the process seemed too lengthy given our tight schedule. I decided to leave this part to the journalist and returned to Benares to complete the remaining tasks.

In Benares, MTV wanted to film Sadhus, Babas, and Aghoris. I first visited the Kina Ram Monastery, the headquarters of the Aghor society. However, I was unable to obtain permission to shoot there because previous TV channels had filmed there without proper authorization, resulting in unauthorized footage being included in their broadcasts. I learned that Aghoris are often misunderstood; they do not consume dead body flesh or engage in other extreme practices as rumored. Although they were very open and informative, they did not allow us to film.

I then visited several other Aghor monasteries, all of which shared similar views about the society’s practices, emphasizing that Aghoris no longer partake in such rituals. I also explored Bhagwan Avdhoot Ram Ashram on the other side of the Ganga, which was quite interesting. The ashram operates a hospital recognized in the Guinness World Records for treating the most leprosy patients, as well as a school for street children, a library, and a press. Although the ashram was initially reluctant to allow MTV to film due to previous issues with the Kina Ram Monastery, I managed to persuade them to permit the shoot.

I visited other monasteries that were open to filming, including one with several Italian Aghoris. Despite their limited knowledge about Aghora, MTV was keen to include them. MTV was particularly interested in finding an Aghori who would eat dead body flesh on camera. This was a challenge because, according to Aghoris, such practices had been abandoned over 400 years ago by Baba Kina Ram and were now prohibited. However, I managed to locate an Aghori who agreed to eat dead body flesh. He planned to perform a special puja called Mahabhog once a year, using dead body flesh, and was willing to conduct an additional puja specifically for MTV.

I was shocked by his willingness to engage in such practices for money. He even provided a list of materials he needed, including two bottles of whisky, and assured me he would arrange for the dead body. He explained that when bodies are cremated, some are retrieved by the Doams, who work at the funeral place, and this would be used for his puja. MTV Italy was thrilled to have found someone willing to perform this ritual, but their Rome office ultimately prohibited the footage of the ritual due to ethical concerns. After completing the filming in Allahabad, MTV Italy arrived in Benares.

We filmed all the planned characters, including an intriguing Baba known as Lali Baba, who wore over 350 necklaces weighing more than 40 kg and engaged in various unique practices. MTV considered Lali Baba to be the standout character of the documentary. We also filmed at the Mother Teresa Home. When the shoot concluded, MTV Italy left Varanasi. Unfortunately, they were among the most disorganized teams I have ever worked with. They lacked a clear schedule, had no knowledge of what to do in Benares until just days before their arrival, and were unfamiliar with the characters they wanted to film.

Later, my brother informed me that the entire crew was arrested in Khajuraho for filming inside temples where cameras were prohibited. They had entered the temple by scaling the back wall and spent over eight hours in jail. Their lack of organization was astonishing.

Research for CBC Documentary

Nandlal Master contacted me seeking information about Doams (people working at cremation sites) in Varanasi. He mentioned that his friend, currently in Varanasi, was interested in making a documentary about the lives of Doams. Since I live near the Ghats and have many friends along them, I could easily gather information about Doams. We met me at Assi Ghat, and we started checking hotels nearby to find his friend, who was staying somewhere in the vicinity. After visiting over ten hotels near Assi, we finally found his friend at a hotel close to the ghat.

When we met, his friend explained that he was a freelance journalist who had previously worked for the BBC but had left a few years ago. Currently, he was working on a CBC documentary titled *Myths and Might*. His role involved finding suitable subjects, scheduling interviews, and obtaining legal permissions. Since he was new to Varanasi, he needed my help to locate the right characters for his documentary. He was specifically looking for a young Doam whose father still worked at a cremation site, and who either attended computer classes or had a computer-related job. The goal was to highlight how Indian society was evolving.

I took him to Manikarnika Ghat, a major cremation site, where I knew a few people. We managed to meet over ten individuals, all eager to participate. We also met some people with wood shops at the site who asked us to return the next day. I consulted with some other friends who lived near Manikarnika Ghat about Doams, and was surprised to learn that Doams still had a king. They mentioned that nothing could be done without his permission. As it was getting dark, we decided to head home and continue our research the next day.

The following morning, we returned to Manikarnika Ghat. We spoke with many more people and asked if their children attended school. It was shocking to find that none of the people we spoke to had children in school. After talking to over 15 individuals, we decided to visit Harishchandra Ghat, another cremation site, where we spoke with many more people. We eventually met a 55-year-old man working at the electric burner at Harishchandra Ghat. His son, Raja Babu, worked for Reliance Money. We visited their home, met the family, and discussed CBC’s project with them. They agreed to participate in the documentary.

Raja Babu had an LLB degree from Banaras Hindu University and worked as an Area Manager for Reliance Money. His story was exactly what we were looking for. They explained that after Raja Babu completed fifth grade, no school would admit him due to the social stigma against Doams. Despite his father’s meager earnings as a rickshaw driver, he wanted his children to be educated. When no school would accept Raja Babu, he continued his studies independently. Eventually, Raja Babu began working as a helper at a doctor’s clinic, where he received training and financial support.

When a wealthy and respected person from Varanasi passed away and his family needed to arrange the cremation, Raja Babu’s uncle, who was working at Harishchandra Ghat, requested that Raja Babu be admitted to school instead of asking for money. The family agreed, and Raja Babu was admitted to Bengali Tola Inter College. Despite facing discrimination, he completed his 12th grade and later pursued a BA, MA, and LLB from BHU. After working for an American NGO called Cash for India, he joined Reliance Money. Raja Babu’s journey was compelling, and we decided to feature him in the documentary.

The next day, we visited the Doam Raja, the king of the Doam community. His home was unconventional—food was cooked using the wood left from cremations, and the house had a peculiar smell. He had a large family and several animals, and he was notably intoxicated when we arrived. Despite the challenging conditions, he agreed to grant permission for filming at Manikarnika and Harishchandra Ghats. On his roof, we saw two tiger statues, which were part of a local legend. It was said that the Doam Raja and the Maharaja of Benares were never friends. The Doam Raja had a tiger statue erected facing the Maharaja’s palace, which displeased the Maharaja.

The case ended with a court ruling requiring the Doam Raja to either remove the statue or build another one facing the opposite direction. The Doam Raja chose to erect a second statue facing away from the first one. With all the necessary permissions and characters in place, the CBC team was ready to proceed with their documentary project.

History of Coca-Cola in India

Coca-Cola first entered India in 1956, operating with 100% foreign equity due to the lack of a foreign exchange act at that time. The Indian Foreign Exchange Regulation Act was introduced in 1973 during Indira Gandhi’s tenure. This act required foreign companies selling consumer goods in India to invest 40% of their equity in Indian associates. Although Coca-Cola agreed to invest 40% of its equity in India, it insisted on retaining full control over technical and administrative functions, excluding local participation.

This stance conflicted with the foreign exchange act. Consequently, the government instructed Coca-Cola to either revise its plan or exit the country. In 1976, Indira Gandhi called for elections, leading to the formation of a unified opposition under the Janata Party. The Janata Party came to power in 1977 and demanded that Coca-Cola either comply with the foreign exchange act or leave India. Coca-Cola chose to leave that year.

Following Coca-Cola’s departure, George Fernandes commented:
“Coke had 100% equity in India. Their investment was minimal—Rs. 6,00,000, equivalent to less than $20,000 at the time. From this investment, they repatriated an estimated 250 million rupees (about $8 million) in profit over twenty years.”

In 1993, Coca-Cola re-entered the Indian market, benefiting from new liberalization policies. The revised foreign exchange regulations allowed for up to 51% foreign equity and provided automatic approval for technology agreements in high-priority industries. Foreign investors and companies could now hold up to 100% equity in these sectors, with greater freedom for repatriating capital.

In 1999, Coca-Cola acquired Parle, India’s leading soft drink brand, which included popular beverages like Thums Up, Limca, and Gold Spot. Prior to the re-entry of Coca-Cola and Pepsi, over 50 Indian soft drink brands had emerged, and 200 production plants had been established. However, as Coca-Cola and Pepsi gained market dominance, many indigenous drinks disappeared, and the demand for healthier options declined.

London Law Researcher studies Coca-Cola in Mehdiganj

I worked with a law researcher from the University of London as both an assistant and translator. He was interested in the legal aspects of the Coca-Cola issue. Having lived in India for over a year, he knew some Hindi, but not well enough to conduct interviews on his own. He is the president of an NGO called Glocality International, which has offices in London and New Delhi. I worked with him for three days in Varanasi.

Tyler was also involved in some high-profile international law cases. For instance, he and a colleague had sued seven Chinese ministers, including the President and Prime Minister, for the deaths of over a million people in Tibet. He explained that the case was registered in Spain because no other country was willing to accept a case against the Chinese government in their courts.

During our time together, we interviewed numerous villagers, Nandlal Master, and several government officials, including the Regional Pollution Control Officer, Ground Water Authority officials, and District Village Committee officers. Tyler was particularly impressed with how Nandlal and his team were leading their movement. Given that Tyler had only three days and wanted to maximize his interviews, we spent one night at Lok Samiti’s office to speak with Nandlal and his colleagues.

We encountered difficulties with the Regional Pollution Control Officer, who believed his English was sufficient to communicate with Tyler, despite Tyler’s advance notice that I would be assisting. The officer often misunderstood Tyler’s questions but remained overly confident in his responses, attempting to obscure the issues. Tyler was determined to gather as much information as possible.

The situation escalated when Tyler used a voice recorder without informing the officer, leading to a heated exchange. The officer, upon discovering the recording, became hostile and threatened us with police intervention. Tyler responded by stating that he would sue the Pollution Control Department in the Supreme Court of India for corruption related to the Coca-Cola issue. He warned that if the Supreme Court confirmed the corruption, the officers could face jail time, which only intensified the officer’s anger.

Eventually, we left the office, laughing about the tense encounter with the irate officer. It was quite amusing to see a PCS officer so angry but unable to act against us. In contrast, the District Village Committee Officer was very engaged and eager to discuss the Coca-Cola issue. He shared extensive information about the situation and the role of Village Committees, and he promised to provide all necessary documents and support. He was the first government official I had met who seemed genuinely interested in talking to people, possibly due to his interest in conversing with a foreigner.

Meeting Lok Samiti to discuss the Coca-Cola issue

A student from the University of California, Santa Barbara came to stay at my guest house for a month. She was pursuing a PhD in Sociology and was interested in topics like globalization and water privatization in India. She was the first person I met who mentioned that Coca-Cola was a controversial company in India. While I knew there was a Coke plant in Varanasi, I was unaware of the disputes surrounding it. She wanted to meet Mr. Nandlal Master, who was leading a movement against Coca-Cola in Varanasi. We arranged an appointment with him.

Since Mr. Nandlal does not speak English, Krista asked me to act as her translator. So, Lane, Krista, and I traveled together to Mehndiganj, where Mr. Nandlal lives and the Coca-Cola plant is located. Nandlal Master had given me directions to his place, but they were quite complicated. After reaching Rajatalab, which is about 3 kilometers from Mehndiganj, we asked several locals about Nandlal Master, and most of them knew him and his location. Unfortunately, we mistakenly ended up at the Coca-Cola plant.

Thinking it would be helpful, I asked the security guard there for directions to Nandlal Master’s place, which in retrospect was a major mistake. The guard became visibly angry upon hearing Nandlal Master’s name and rudely told me to ask somewhere else. Eventually, a few locals pointed us in the right direction, and we arrived at Lok Samiti’s office, where Nandlal Master resides. During our meeting, Nandlal Master described the movement against Coca-Cola, which seemed to be a significant issue.

He detailed numerous disputes involving Coca-Cola in Varanasi that I had never heard of before. According to him, the controversies included violations of hazardous waste regulations, conflicts with the community, water theft, revenue theft, low wages for employees, and land disputes with local committees. I was shocked to learn that these issues had been ongoing in my city for the past five years without my knowledge. When I asked Nandlal Master why the issue was not more widely known, he explained that Coca-Cola buys advertising from the media, which discourages them from covering the controversy.

Krista wanted to interview locals about their water problems, so right after our meeting with Nandlal Master, we began conducting interviews. Krista was the most dedicated person I had ever met. Despite the oppressive heat—around 45 degrees Celsius—she remained unfazed and determined to meet as many people as possible. We often interviewed people in their fields, homes, or on the street, directly under the scorching sun.

Over the course of 25 days, we interviewed more than 40 people, including some government officials such as Pollution Control Board officers, Ground Water Authority officers, and the District Magistrate of Varanasi. Krista also wanted to interview Coca-Cola officials but was never able to locate any. Despite our efforts, we had no success in finding them. Now, I need to transcribe all the audio recordings from the interviews conducted in Mehndiganj.