Friday, December 28, 2007

Dancing with Death...

While the world mourns the tragic and senseless assassination of Benazir Bhutto, a two time Prime Minister of Pakistan and tipped to come to power for the third time in the coming general elections, the politicians who determine the future of the world need to take time off, sit back and think – more now than ever before.

Living in a country plagued by terrorism, we, in India, have perhaps paid the biggest price in terms of human lives – both civilian and military with the rise in the fanatically driven terrorist movement. When I look back and think I find a common thread behind the rise of almost all terrorist movements – the short-sightedness of the influential chatterati, bureaucratic and political classes, almost complete lack of the ability to look into the future and vested political or geo-political gains – more short term than anything else.

While we were kids we were repeatedly dissuaded by the adults not to play with fire, be it a match box or a lighter or whatever have you with the threat of dire consequences. Sadly, there is no one to explain to the adults that if you dance with death it will come back to haunt you and will, more frighteningly, devour you. India stands out as an unfortunate example of this. Take the case of Indira Gandhi – she was instrumental in promoting an almost unknown Bhindranwale – to counter her political opponents – who went on to lead the Sikh terrorist movement culminating in the storming of the Golden Temple, the holiest of holy shrines for the Sikhs, and ultimately her assassination in the hands of Sikh terrorists – culled from her own personal bodyguards. Her son Rajiv Gandhi, an almost novice politician, fared no better. Goaded on by the bureaucrats he clandestinely supported the Tamil separatist movement in Sri Lanka, had to send the Indian Army to flush out the Frankenstein that the LTTE went on to become and was tragically assassinated by a female LTTE suicide bomber.

The world has also fared no better. The Russian meddling in Afghanistan, fearing the Americans would establish a toe-hold in Asia, coupled with the backdoor arming of Afghan militia by America (to counter the Russians) has turned Afghanistan into the basket case that it is today. Iraq too is a victim of such skewed foreign policy and short sighted geo-political gain driven intellectual thought, if we can call it that. We have since the second Gulf war lost the count of human lives lost long before President Bush declared himself and the American nation victorious. The 9/11 incident and the UK bombings are a reflection of the monster that we have ourselves created via the Afghan route.

Pakistan having lost all the wars that it fought with India had adopted a policy of bleeding her using the insurgency route, back channeling the arms that US provided it to arm the Afghan militia to Sikh and Kashmiri militants, not that the Indian government was above water in their dealings with the Kashmiris. Look at the state that Pakistan is in now - fighting the fundamentalist Frankenstein that it itself created not so long ago. Where ever you look, be it Kosovo or South America or Russia, you simply can’t ignore the common thread that I have mentioned of and can only wonder what the world would have been like if we had put humanity before the self or the nation.

As I said, its time we seriously put our heads together and solve this menace or it will devour us all. But then the world believes in the big bang theory and maybe it will take some other earth shaking terrorist event to jolt us awake from our complacency induced sleep and power driven hallucinations.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Monumental Bureaucratic Apathy!

For all those of you who wonder what stuff the Indian bureaucracy is made of, it would be enlightening to read Upamanyu Chatterjee’s ‘Mammaries of the Welfare State’. A bureaucrat himself, he is scathing in his observations on the huge monolithic and calcified structure that is the Indian bureaucracy.

It is difficult for you and me to fathom the mechanics of this gigantic machinery where, at the most, 5% of its gears really turn the way they should and yet, this vast country is on the verge of achieving double digit growth figures and FIIs are hauling in bagfuls of cash.

Let me give you an instance of how the bureaucratic mind works. En route to my office, which is a 16 km drive from home, is a flyover that straddles across an extremely busy railway line. About some three months ago the bridge developed a gaping hole right in the middle of the double carriageway. The mandarins, as usual, woke up late and one fine morning stopped all heavy vehicles from plying over the bridge, fencing off the offending hole, and generally ensuring all round chaos for a couple of days. The best was yet to come! An enquiry was instituted to go into the reasons as to why a newly constructed flyover should develop such an embarrassing hole. The finding was startling! The flyover it seemed had been constructed by two different agencies. While the middle portion of the flyover was constructed by one, the approach ramps to the flyover were constructed by another. The proverbial cat was let loose among the pigeons and a royal tussle ensured as to which agency was to blame and who would pick up the repair tab. The mandarins went into a huddle, summoned construction experts from a renowned institution, and came up with this stunner. The old flyover would be repaired post haste (in 2 months flat!) and a new flyover (parallel to the older one) constructed – with much better construction material!

Commoners like us were gifted a double lollipop and the gullible, like me, were sucked in – hook, line and sinker! In the midst of all this hectic public service, disaster stuck; an under-construction flyover in Hyderabad had collapsed taking with it some innocent lives. Showing an uncanny sense of speed the very next morning the entire flyover was made out of bounds and we stood staring at a mile long pileup of cars with no hope of reaching office on time.

It has been three months since and the old flyover lies desolate and forlorn with not a soul working on it. The new flyover is still a pipe dream. To cap it all the mandarins, in their wisdom, have decided to widen the roads leading up to the ‘chicken neck’ of a railway level crossing, as if the existing chaos wasn’t enough - what with the kind of driving etiquette that we all have!

But then the bureaucrats come from among us and you would marvel at our sense of driving discipline. While a majority of us are lined up in the queue, staring at the 30 minute wait… whoosh! and some cars will go sailing past us and choke the narrow level crossing. The drivers are from among us – not any illiterate idiot but an engineer or a doctor working in one of the fancy offices that dot this city.

Thursday, September 06, 2007

Presidential Couplets.....

Sonia lay in bed and stretched and yawned,
“I need a new President”, it suddenly dawned!

“The current guy is such a thorn,
Shivraj Patil, ah! That’s why he was born!

Patil was summarily summoned,
‘You are my new President’, Sonia announced!

Patil – his jaw dropped, his eyes popped
At the Italian’s feet 6+ feet of flesh plonked!

The Opposition screamed, the Left growled
A lot of noise was generated all around!

Sonia despaired, what shittery she thought,
To prise a new name her grey cells fought!

Pranab, the name appeared out of the maze,
The lady in ruptures got out of her daze!

The new name had a much shorter life
Pranab was her trouble shooter when mischief was rife!

She couldn’t spare the guy whose shoulders bore her gun
Who would protect her if she had to run?

No, our lady did not give up,
None of her plans were ever messed up!

Who am I? was all she thought,
A ‘woman’ was the only answer she got!

Ah! there lies my salvation she exclaimed,
A woman president! A greenhorn with no name!

Quickly out went a search order,
A lady popped up from Rajasthan, on India’s border,

Pratibha Patil (yes another Patil) was her name,
She was a woman and that was her only claim to fame!

Elections were a piece of cake
Shekhawat, the competitor, realised he woke up late!

To the presidential palace the first family rolled
Who all were in tow we were never told!

The next day the mortals were treated to a spectacular show
First pictures of the first family were splashed for all to know!

The last I know, the lady threw a massive fit
Her portrait, she said, wasn’t a hit!

All government offices and embassies are in fix
Where they wonder will we get the Lady’s pix!

Till then the old President stares down from the wall
He who laughs the last, laughs the loudest after all!

Friday, August 03, 2007

In the eyes of law...

Sanjay Dutt, for those of you who are uninitiated, is among the biggest stars of the Indian film industry (Bollywood), more so after the smashing success of ‘Munnabhai’ and its equally successful sequel ‘Lage Raho Munnabhai’. As a lanky youngster of around 35 years, Lucifer in his wisdom managed to get him to, illegally, buy an AK-56 gun which he hurriedly disposed off, equally illegally, just after the, now infamous, Mumbai (sectarian) riots. The investigative agencies slapped the draconian TADA act (Indian anti-terror law) and managed to put him away for around 18 months.

After a trial that stretched on for more than a decade, Sanjay was found guilty, not under the TADA law but the Arms act, and handed down a sentence of 6 years rigorous imprisonment. The media guys went into a frenzy. Television news channels were swamped with the news and analysed the judgement to its death. The print media, in turn, devoted entire pages with screaming headlines, delving into the minutest details of Sanjay’s life.

What was the judge supposed to do? Let him go scot free due to his celebrity status or good behaviour during the parole period? Had the judge done that, the same media guys, who are now analysing and ripping apart the judgement would have screamed murder and held it up as an example of how the rich and powerful are treated preferentially by the law. That’s not the issue!

At this current day and age we need Lady Justice to open here eyes (and maybe wear shades to compensate her long years in darkness). The wheels of justice must take into account the reality that there are humans out there who may commit mistakes/blunders, which do not hurt other people, and that their self realisation helps them evolve as good and responsible human beings. Current laws have no place for such people, be it rich or poor, and there is no mechanism to spare them the trauma of being lodged with hardened criminals for extended periods of time. Sanjay’s case has held up the hard and unmerciful nature of the current law and justice system that a common man has to face, day in and day out, without a hope and away from all the media glare.

Monday, July 16, 2007

Revisiting a Poet-King

I am thru with reading the ‘Last Mughal’, William Dalrymple’s latest book and needless to say, as with all of WD’s writing, I found the book to be an immensely captivating read. For me the book has been as much about the ‘Indian Mutiny’ of 1857 as it was about Bahadur Shah Zafar, the last of the great Mughals to rule this country, a reign that lasted about 350 years. God in his wisdom chose to have a sensitive and mystical person, in Bahadur Shah Zafar, to be the last flickering light of the Mughal dynasty, long shorn of its wealth and military power.

Bahadur Shah Zafar was as an extremely sensitivity person - a poet, an intellectual, a lover of arts and a religious mystic, whose biggest fallacy was his inability to take a any decision, at even the most crucial junctures, instead relying on his trusted (sic) advisors and allowing himself to be manipulated. Great leaders create history, but in Zafar’s case, he let himself become a pawn in the hands of history. He did not want to be a part to the mutiny but was instead dragged to become its commander-in-chief; he had no part in killing of the Europeans under his protection but was instead willed to be a mute spectator. The mutiny tore through his family and kingdom, ejecting him from his beloved home, city and country, to spend his remaining days in exile, in far away Rangoon (Yangon), bidding his Lord to relieve him from the burden of existence.

My real introduction to Zafar was through one his beautiful ghazals, hauntingly sung by Mohd. Rafi, one of India’s biggest singers. While WD does not attribute the ghazal to Zafar (it is popularly believed that the ghazal was written by Zafar during his captivity in Burma (Myanmar), which can’t be true since he was denied access to pen and paper) I would tend to believe (and I can be miles from the truth) that Zafar wrote this poem much before his exile when he clearly saw the writing on the wall.

Here’s the ghazal.

Lagta Nahin Hai Dil Mera Ujde Dayar Mein
Kiski Bani Hai Aalam-e-Napaidar Mein

Kehdo In Hasraton Se Kahin Aur Ja Basen
Itni Jagah Kahan Hai Dil-e-Daagdaar Mein


Umr-e-Daraz Mang Ke Laye The Chaar Din

Do Aarzoo Mein Kat Gaye Do Intezaar Mein


Itna Hai Badnaseeb "Zafar" Dafn Ke Liye
Do Gaz Zameen Bhi Na Mili Koo-e-Yaar Mein


Here’s my translation, which was difficult to do since Urdu is such a beautiful and at the same time difficult language where the same word can be interpreted in multiple ways!

This desolate land interests me no more,
(and) Who has had his say in this transient world

Let my aspirations (wishes) go find place elsewhere,

This broken heart has no room for them

Of the four day lease of life I got from Him,
Two were spent petitioning (wishing) and two waiting in anticipation

(look) How ill-fated Zafar is! Even two yards of burial ground,
Is not available in his beloved land

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Getting smacked where it hurts!

The Board of Control of Cricket in India (BCCI), the all powerful body that controls the most popular sport in this country is a warren hole of politics and corruption. Among the richest sport bodies in the world, BCCI is among the most unprofessional bodies – headed by a politician who is as far away from cricket as I am from travelling to the moon! The selection of a coach for the Indian team, after the disastrous experiment with Greg Chappel, brought on by the need of the board to rule as it pleases, has turned into a big time farce. First to come along was Dav Whatmore, the current Bangladesh coach, who was unceremoniously dumped because a couple of ex-cricketers, a.k.a. Gavaskar, Shastri etc didn’t approve of him – not because he wasn’t a good coach but was too media savvy for BCCI’s comfort or maybe a man who refused to be dictated. Next to be sent the invite was Mr. Graham Ford, the current director of cricket at Kent, who has, as of last night, wisely decided to keep away from the wheeling-dealings of Indian cricket. BCCI has, perhaps for the first time in its history, been turned down, so publicly and in full media glare.

BCCI has had this coming for a long time and Mr. Ford’s smack got an added sting with Mr. Emburey too declining any (potential) offer to coach the Indian team. Its time BCCI woke up to its antics and realised the need to transform itself into a competent, professional body where only competence counts instead of the state-wise quotas, favouritism, lobby groups etc etc. Take for instance the presence of utterly incompetent people on board, as far as cricket is concerned, like Rajiv Sukhla, a journo turned political sycophant who has nothing to do whatsoever with the game. Ever wondered why a person like the erstwhile India captain Kapil Dev does not choose to associate himself with the board or why Gavaskar – undoubtedly one of the greats of world cricket – represents the section that refuses to take onus for their actions and politicking while hurriedly calling a press meet to explain that he can’t understand the ways of the board while being a member of the coach selection team that has got so resoundedly smacked by Graham.

Well done Mr. Ford!

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

New Found Love – William Dalrymple

I have always been an avid and voracious reader, devouring whatever is put up before me in double quick time, which irritated my parents no end and the last addition to the club is my lovely wife.

Kolkata in turn has been a blessing in many ways than one and the thing that I cherish the most is the time that I have had to catch up with my reading, which really suffered during my last days in Delhi, for monetary reasons as much as for lack of time!

I have, in the last couple of months discovered William Dalrymple and what a dolt I had been not to have discovered him earlier. I have already journeyed my way through four of his books, starting with the White Mughals followed by City of Djinns, The Age of Kali and From the Holy Mountains. Needless to say I have found all the four books to be immensely engrossing and I can’t, even if my life depended on it, choose one book that can score over the others. Each in itself is a whole, as any good book should be I guess, but then WD’s style of writing, use of language, fluidity etc etc is exemplary. The humongous and rigorous research that goes into each of his work results in each book weaving vivid and kaleidoscopic images in the readers mind, as they travel with WD between the past and the present interspersed with visions of the future.

I am fresh from ‘From the Holy Mountains’, and as I write I think of how much the eastern religions (Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism etc etc) have woven their mystical carpet across the globe, and how the passage of time has swept along with it the finer mystical and secular parts of these religion; in a world that is known now more by its religious fanaticism than what religion in the earlier days wanted to achieve.

I am waiting to lay my hands on the ‘Last Mughals’ (the cost of the book is holding me back for sometime, but then for how long!) and I am already savoring the prospect of sinking my teeth into it. ‘In Xanadu’ is going to take some finding since I haven’t seen the title in the bookstores that I have been to.

PS: The cover pictures for his books have been taken from WD’s site, without his permission and I hope he wouldn’t mind it. It would be interesting to note though that the covers of the books that I have are different from the ones here! WD’s picture was harvested from a Google image search!

Here's WD's Website Link

Thursday, March 01, 2007

3% Cess into the Cesspool….

P. Chitambaram (PC for brevity), India’s current Finance Minister, has produced among the most uninspiring budgets this year. As a layperson, who isn’t into finance and economics, my readings into the budget are directly correlated to how it impacts me and the news isn’t good. While some pundits are hailing the increase in allocation of funds to core sectors such as education and healthcare, I wonder if PC has, this year, played entirely to the political gallery. In a country that witnesses large number of farmer suicides every year, the budget has alarming skews – decrease in prices of dog food, imported jewellery, diamonds and to cap it all umbrellas! While the allocation to agriculture has increased I see no reasons how the rate of suicides in the farmer community can be controlled. PC has also chosen to increase the education cess (read extra tax) from 2% to 3% to fund secondary education or so he says! A country that is mired in corruption, where of every rupee allocated for the poor only 5 – 10 paisa (100 paisa makes a rupee) trickles down to the beneficiary, PC should have spent the existing 2% well instead to digging into our pockets. The cess is levied on all kinds of taxes (income, wealth, service etc etc) making an all round impact. A very significant amount of the cess is going to land in the cesspool, with precious little being done to bring about real change in the way we implement schemes, while the common man is made to pay thru his nose.

I don’t grouse paying taxes, as every honest citizen should, but then I also have the right to know what the government does with my money. For every rupee that I pay in taxes the government can spend 80 paisa of it in the social sector or wherever it please but the remaining 20 paisa spend should impact me and my immediate surroundings!

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

Life unbearable…

Can life become so miserable that one is forced to choose ‘death’ over ‘life’? A recent death in the extended family has been haunting me since. The gentleman in question jumped off the roof of his office building taking his own life, leaving behind his wife and a distraught daughter. As I write, his face swims before me and I am left thinking, what might have been the cause for taking such an extreme step. Whatever the cause it must have been so overwhelming that the person was left with no choice but to end his life. To arrive at the decision to end one’s own life and methodically execute that is humungous, one that I can’t quite fathom. There is nothing but questions that keep cropping up. Did the person sleep the night before? What was he thinking? The act of achieving mental closure to all problems by deciding to die can perhaps help the person to maintain composure and coherently go about their daily routine, knowing well what is in store and maybe ticking off time. What did he think would happen to his wife and daughter? How did he overcome the love and longing for his child to take the ultimate decision? And as I keep tossing these questions in my mind, I know I have been touched in some very deep way and there is no way I can achieve any degree of mental closure but let time be the healer.

Monday, January 01, 2007

Saddam Hanged!

As the news channels and media went into a frenzy to cover the year-end news scoop, it has divided opinion in India right down the middle and I guess in the rest of the world. I wouldn’t be knowing what the Americans think though! The way Saddam was quickly despatched with smacks of political expediency and a very warped line of thinking. Yes Saddam did undertake political and ethnic cleansing, yes he waged war on Iran and Kuwait, yes he ruled with an iron fist but then we forget who created the Frankenstein monster. For those with selective amnesia it was the Americans! Yup, and when the monster turned on its master, refusing to be a British poodle well! setup a lame duck trial court, populate it with your stooges, pronounce the defendant guilty and hang him when half the world sleeps!

No I don’t condone what Saddam did but then were we just ourselves? If Saddam was pronounced guilty of massacring a 148 Kurds then does President Bush demand any better treatment? Bush, as a typical American Cowboy, went in and attacked an already economically sanctioned and crippled Iraq on a false pretext (at least Saddam had the guts to proclaim that he went after Kuwait for its oil reserves!), treated civilian casualties as mundanely as swatting flies and forgot to tell the world that it was strategic reserves of oil that he was after, what with the Saudis refusing to toe a straight American line! So what does Mr. Bush achieve? 3,000 American military men dead and 22,000+ wounded in different degrees of severity topped with at the last count (on the lower side) over 52,404 Iraqi civilians killed.

How should you and me judge Mr. Bush? For 55,000+ deaths and as many families affected; for thousands other disabled for life; for turning Iraq into a basket case; for pushing a world towards a more insecure future with fundamentalism on the rise. And we hang a man for 148 deaths? Yes all men inflicted deaths are abhorrent but then where is the sense of justice?