Supratim's Blog

The Gift of The Ancients

2011-02-04T11:04:00.002+05:30

History, and the writing of it thereof, is perhaps among very

Konark Sun Temple - Fresco

few areas where creative freedom can be exercised to just about any length. History is what its writer or maker makes it to be and being the most malleable of subjects, can be contoured to serve the dictates of time and ruler. Thus if the ‘Badshahnama’ was written by Abdul Hamid Lahori – a paid chronicler to sing peans on Shah Jahan’s rule at the peak of Mughal power in India, so do you have the Chinese traveller Fa-Hien leaving a detailed chronicle of his travels. In each case, what they saw and what ultimately appeared in print (!) had colourations that the author brought on, either because they had to earn their kudos and thereby the green bucks or what they saw was always seen in sharp contrast to what they had been exposed to in their countries or cultures.

Ancient Indians were a much smarter lot. They were quick to see through the game and while they excelled in astronomy, physics, mathematics, and all kinds of literature and arts – areas that left strong evidences, they never took to documenting their histories – leaving it to later generations and foreigners to do their work, but here came the master stroke – leaving enough evidence strewn across the land, of its customs, religion and intellectual prowess to prevent later historians from doing a wholesale distortion of facts. Indians thus, in the absence of any written documentation and thereby bereft of any colourations, clung on dearly to their culture, with ‘knowledge’ being passed down orally and later through their religious texts and tomes.

Ashokan Rock Edict

The greatest gift that our ancients left for us was to school us in the art of assimilating diverse thoughts, religions, cultures etc., into our fold, without distorting what we had. Indians, it is oft lamented, have no sense of history – almost all travellers coming to this land will vouch for this; contemporary figures like Nobel laureate V. S. Naipaul included. Indians look at the circle of life – the continuous cycle of creation and destruction followed by yet more creation and destruction - with a passivity and acceptance that confounds most thinkers. The ability to live in the present while cocooned in its shell of customs and beliefs (go to Banaras to see this aspect at its liveliest, where the nuclear physicist stands jostling for space with the matted Sadhu to offer obeisance to Mother Ganga) is something that the outside world can hardly fathom. Indians, perhaps, are the only race that saw such a lively procession of kings and emperors, raiders, marauders, conquerors, imperialists, priests and religious zealots carrying on their unending dance of destruction and creation, while succumbing to none but instead allowing them to assimilate within it.

If we are to look back into time, religion is and has, by far, been the single largest distorter of history; layering history upon history; wiping away entire cultures; superimposing alien values on whole peoples, while denying all that was old and existing. Take for instance what Christianity did to Africa. In one giant sweep Christians wiped away entire cultures and out went traditional religion, customs, medicine, and a myriad other things. The historians meanwhile recorded the salvation of the savages; how the white man lifted an entire continent out of darkness. The Africans got caught on the wrong foot…they fell prey to the white man and his shenanigans and rapidly eroded their own systems. Today, while trying to painfully piece back their history they are ending up living in multiple worlds with the church, the mosque and the traditional system at loggerheads - not being able to fit in with what historians today describe as the modern world!

The Romans of old no longer exist nor do the Egyptians or neither do the Persians nor the Incas and the list is endless – all victims of either Christianity or Islam carried at the point of the sword. Even avowed pacifist religions like Buddhism have wiped away traditional forms of religion in the Far East, Japan and China.

So if the only function of History is to record the past…a past with which current people have scarcely any connections, then to what avail a sense of history?

Hindustani Classical Music mourns its doyen

2011-01-25T16:06:00.000+05:30

With the passing away of Pandit Bhimsen Joshi, contemporary India has lost its foremost doyen of Indian Classical Music. It is sad loss for the nation – a void that will take a long time to fill. Music comes from the soul and it is always great souls that make great music. Pandit Bhimsen Joshi was and to my mind remains to be the face of Hindustani Classical music.

Hailing from the famous Kirana Gharana, (founded by another doyen – Ustad Abdul Karim Khan) Bharat Ratna Pandit Bhimsen Joshi’s majestic voice and 'gayaki’ endeared him to generations of listeners.

The Kirana Gharana has the distinction of giving India and Hindustani Classical Music some of its best stalwarts including the venerable Pandit. Sawai Ghandharva (Pandit Bhimsen Joshi’s guru), Begum Akhtar, Roshanara Begum, Smt. ‘Surashri’ Kesarbai Kerkar, Mohammed Rafi, Smt. Gangubai Hangal, Ustad Rashid Khan, among others.

We shall all miss you terribly Panditji…

Two decades since Naipaul came to India

2010-12-29T16:19:00.003+05:30

Just through reading Naipaul’s ‘India – A Million Mutinies’ the last of the trilogy on Naipaul’s travelogue in India and I wonder, as yet another year draws to a close, if Naipaul would have seen India in a different light from the India he saw in 1990. India then was standing at the threshold of an economic growth miracle to be fueled by the opening up of the economy and the easing away of the License-Permit raj. Naipaul would today have perhaps travelled more comfortably to the rural hinterlands of Punjab, been astounded presence of the ubiquitous Nokia handset in the hands of the boy who repairs tires by the roadside or by the spending power of the burgeoning middle-class in the glitzy malls but the million mutinies that he saw then would still be there.

Two decades later while the sense of ‘nation’ has grown (and we have the British to thank for this), the country remains as fractured as ever – factures that are both old and new. The political demography of the country has seen a sea change from the heady days of independence. The rise of regional parties and the pressures of running a coalition government – never an in-thing with the family driven Congress Party has thrown an entirely different set of challenges for the nation. The replacement of Brahmin power starting from the south and extending up to the north has brought forth a new breed of politicians and political ideology that has done nothing, just as Brahmin hegemony did nothing, for the economical transformation of the deprived classes – they remain in the same state if not worse even as the nation steps firmly into its next growth curve. The acute lack of governance (‘su-shasan’ as Nitish Kumar succulently puts it) at the federal and state levels (except perhaps states such as Bihar, Gujarat etc.) has widened old economic fractures and introduced more yawing gaps between the rich and the poor. Endemic corruption coupled with poor policy measures, lack of transparency and controls has seen a galloping increase in prices of essential commodities leaving a significant part of the populace without access to very basic food let alone a minimum balanced diet. The International Food Policy Research Institute (IFPRI)’s Global Hunger Index (GHI) estimate ranks India at a low 66 out of the 88 developing countries - a score worse than many Sub-Saharan African countries! While I find the WPI (Wholesale Price Index) an inaccurate measure to gauge Food Inflation (the middlemen and hoarders are the devils in heady supply chain cocktail) the following table (Inflation in %) gives you a sense of how prices have been on a sprint.

Items	1993 – 94	2004 – 05	2010 - 11
Primary Articles	7.9 %	9.2 %	19.3 %
Fuel and Power	4.2 %	5.9 %	13.5 %

While spiraling fuel prices has been a major cause of inflation, but that in itself does not tell the whole story. With more families slipping below the poverty line (instead of the reverse) the oft heard lament of poor agricultural output is too a sloppy story that is put out as the graphic below illustrates.

Source: RBI Governor's Speech

On the socio-political front if Naipaul saw the waning away of the Naxalite and Khalisthan movements in 1990 he would be mighty surprised today by the emergence of Maoists as a powerful anti-state force and the abject mishandling of Kashmir turning the on-the-wane separatist movement into a terrible hydra headed monster. The pulls and pressures on the Indian nation state is an ever present fracture that keeps changing shape and dimensions but refuses to ebb away, due to an acute lack of right governance and timely political interventions. The culture of corruption introduced, to a large measure, by Indira Gandhi has taken such deep seated roots that the politician-bureaucrat nexus has now become an institution with its own kinetic energy to replicate itself at all levels – starting from central/federal ministers to the clerk that passes the file around. With the growth in communication & information technology, it is only a matter of will to bring absolute transparency into the system by removing unnecessary human intervention and making information accessible to all – cut the bureaucracy, their power over information and the horrendous red tape surrounding the smallest of transactions to see policy effectiveness at the grassroot levels.

The alienation that Muslims feel – largely their own doing by not adopting modern education and remaining cloistered – remains perhaps the only thing that hasn’t changed over the two decades that have passed since Naipaul was here. It must also be added in the same breath that the actions of extreme fundamentalist groups and the bad press that the community has received over the decades have taken a toll on the psychology of the community and the general feeling of discontent still remains as strong as ever.

If the 90’s saw the last vestiges of the erstwhile royalty, India in 2010 has given rise to a new class of royalty – the rulers of a billion souls have made politics a family run business. Fathered (Mothered?) by the Congress Party, with a Crown Prince in waiting in Rahul Gandhi, the regional parties too have taken cue from the great dame and politicians are passing on the party reins to their wards fast and furiously. So if the DMK in down south has the patriarch Karunanidhi passing the baton to his son and daughter, the tiger of Shiva Sena – Balasaheb in Mumbai has passed on the baton to his son. Then in Kashmir we have Farooq Abdullah handing in the reins to Omar while we have Jyotiraditya Scindia parading his school going son in an open jeep as his next visible successor and the list just keeps growing. Viva-la-India!

As a country that fights a million mutinies and contradictions each and every day of its existence, India has done surprisingly well. In spite of a zillion fractures straddled by a dismal political class and a corrupt bureaucracy, the country prods along at an amazingly healthy clip rate and has managed to capture the attention of the world. What the coming decade has in store is difficult to predict but one thing is for sure…unless we grow our agrarian economy and start moving on the path of good governance the poor in the country shall remain on the margins of society without guarantee of the minimum dignity of life – a cause enough for all of us to hang our heads in shame

Our Common Wealth of Neros

2010-09-23T17:21:00.001+05:30

To Rome said Nero: "If to smoke you turn I shall not cease to fiddle while you burn."

Seeing the CWG fiasco unveiling itself before our eyes many of us many may be tempted to grit our teeth and say “a people deserves the political masters that it gets…” but haven’t we as a nation reached its nadir with our handling of the games. What a basket case we must seem to the world and here we have politicians and bureaucrat of all shapes and sizes, from the petit Sheila Dixit to Calamity Kalmadi keeping a poker face and saying ‘aall is wellll…, aall is well…”. The CWG Village maybe a filthy pig-sty but then Indians always were environment friendly and pooed in the open…and hence we really don’t identify with people who flush their turd down a tube…yuk and here you are, complaining while we are trying so hard to make a whole village environment friendly!

What a motley crowd of jokers, nincompoops and mediocres has this nation surrounded itself with…Behold the right honourable Mani Shankar Aiyar doing a merry little jig in his garden now that the games are crumbling…or take a peek into 10 Janpath and pay obedience to the reining deity of the Indian political governance (sic) system…and what may she be playing now…the harp? Or shall we zip down to Panchavati, 7 Race Course Road, where we thought resided an intelligent and intellectual Indian but alas, what has the system done to him…he is a but a shadow of his former self, surrounded as he is with spineless bureaucrats…

Phew! What a close call…we almost got done in by the spanking white Ambassador car with a shining red beacon…that screaming fly past was by Ms Sheila Dixit, one who got us into this shit…she is off to the CWG site…the roof of the stadia shouldn’t cave in…bricks and tiles can rain down on the athletes…large projects do have small hiccups…wow Ms Dixit, you are Nero born twice!

And as trudge along, our heads hanging we are accosted by a group of patriots…"why you worm" they say "you should stand by the nation and its politicians and its bureaucrats and its…what a shame…you should feel proud and not pick holes…oh! The sadness of it all"

A sparrow on the window sill...

2010-07-27T18:45:00.005+05:30

Professor James Middleton, very unlike him, sat staring at the sparrow that had just perched itself on the window sill. A man who hated whiling away time had for some reason chosen that very moment to go gallivanting into his mind’s bower.

“Rotten luck!”, thought Middleton Jr., who had, again for reasons unknown, chosen this very moment to present himself to his father and plead for some bridging funds to help him tide over a bleak financial month, not that the other months did not start putting on display ominous black clouds from somewhere during the 17th, had Middleton Jr. chosen to be prudent!

What had caught Middleton Sr.’s attention was not the bird that had chosen to pay the Middleton window sill a visit but two very significant pieces of news that had been delivered to him along with his morning cup of coffee. One was an obituary to ‘Common Sense’ and the other, the news of Rap star Sean “Puffy” Combs a.k.a. Puff Daddy a.k.a. Diddy gifting his just-gone-on-16 son a $360,000 Maybach!

While the sparrow on the sill sat cocking its head at impossible angles, our Professor was at that moment thinking about the traveler from Orhan Pamuk’s latest novel Other Colours, wondering as he did as he stood outside the door from which hung ‘No Entry’, if Diddy’s ludicrously expensive gift meant that he (Diddy) belonged to a class of people who are so loaded with cash that they can buy just what pleases them, old sage ‘Common Sense’ be damned, or was it that he, Professor Middleton, and the likes of him had just got banded into a class of people who begrudged their sons their existing allowances and allowed their pettiness to colour their judgement…

Never before had two entirely different pieces of news clashed like cymbals, leaving our good Professor completely floundering unable to make sense of the dizzying pace at which the world around him was changing…wasn’t it completely true (as the obituary penned by an Unknown Author read) that “Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you earn), reliable parenting strategies (the adults are in charge, not the kids), and it's okay to come in second…” or how our sage went into a feverish delirium realizing that “six year old boys (were) charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; a teen was suspended for taking a swig of mouthwash after lunch; a teacher was fired for reprimanding an unruly student and schools had to get parental consent to administer aspirin to a student but couldn't inform the parent when a female student is pregnant or wants an abortion” and how “Common Sense finally gave up the ghost after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot, she spilled a bit on her lap, and was awarded a huge settlement”

And the most perplexing predicament was that we are, or so we are told, firmly ensconced in the ‘Knowledge Age’…having progressed a long way from the Stone Age…and we seem to have collectively lost the ability to think in simple terms of right and wrong. Prof. Middleton found this enigma of evolution both frightening and revolting…’are we somehow turning the clock back on ourselves’ thought the good professor, as his eyes fell on his son. “I wonder if it is money that brings you to my study so early in the morning?” quipped the old man.

Middleton Jr.’s long and studied silence elicited a 50 pound bridging fund, much to his amazement. And before we forget, the sparrow which was faithfully pruning itself chose to fly away as soon as the money changed hands!

Creativity Vs Divinity

2009-10-01T19:08:00.009+05:30

The Puja season, this time around, has come upon us a might too early, sapping some of joy - what with having to contend with an extremely muggy weather, the lack of the warm ‘Sarat Kaal’ sun and overall the general ‘puja’ flavour that the winds bring in, while ushering in the Goddess in our midst.

Kolkata though, true to its undying spirit, refused to be held back and put up, as it is wont to, a kaleidoscopic show trying to be mightier and grander than its previous shows and it is here that I step in. While the Puja’s have their own folklore surrounding them of how Goddess Durga, bestowed with powers from the entire pantheon of Gods that make up the Hindu religion, defeated Mahishasura – an embodiment of evil, to us mortals it is more of a long string of pure abandonment and bliss…no studies…no work…stay out as long as you want…eat what your soul craves for…and the list is endless. In the midst of all this, I have a sinking feeling that as puja’s after puja’s go by, we are, to some extent, running the risk of losing the very essence of divinity in the race to differentiate one Puja from the next. Today, creativity and the need to create crowd pulling ‘themes’ has become such a fad that the simplicity in the act of worshipping – putting your palms together and bowing before the divine has been substituted with being able to quickly flash out your digital cameras or your mobile phones and start clicking away. Can you blame the common man for losing the very essence of bhakti in the face of, the awesome creativity that is laid out before him to feast his eyes on. Experimenting is good and has to be encouraged – by all means, but haven’t we taken it too far?

At the cost of sounding puritan, I would rather that the puja’s be a showcase of both creativity but while holding on to the age old essence of the festival – a time that we take to find the God in us and immerse ourselves, albeit whatever little, in the Omnipresent Power. While it may be a good idea to showcase our creativity – and believe me there is an awful lot to show – we should seriously introspect on how we are tending towards depicting the Goddess. To my mind this is one area where we have threaded a bit to far for comfort. Take the case of a theme puja in South Kolkata this year, where the organisers fashioned the pandal as a giant weaver bird’s nest – and it was really a magnificent piece of craftsmanship, but they ended up botching the image of Goddess Durga, who instead of holding her weapons had different kinds of birds in her hand! Then there was this excellent puja organised in Salt Lake, built around the Buddhist theme, which was again extremely well done but again when it came to depicting the Goddess they took the theme too far. All this brings to mind Harivansh Rai Bachchan’s famous poem ‘Buddha aur Naachghar’, from which I am quoting a few lines…

“Jaaha Khuda ki nahi gaali daal,
Waahan buddh ki kya chalti chaal,
Wehey thea murti ke khilaph,
Esnea unhi ki baaniye murti,
Wehey thea puja ke virudh,
Esnea unhi ko diya pujj,
Unheay Eshwar mein tha abiswas,
Esnea unhi ko khay diya Bhagwan,
Wehey aaye thea phailane ko vairag,
Mitane ko singar, patar,
Esnea unhi ko baana diya Shringar,
Baanaya unka sundar aakar,
Unka bel mund tha sheesh
Esnea laagaye baal ghungar-daar,
Aur mitti, lakdri, pathar, loha,
Tamba, peetal, chandi, sona,
Moonga, neelum, panna, haathi-daath,
Saab ke aandar Unhe dhal, tarash, kharad, nikal,
Bana diya Unhe bazaar mein biknea ka saaman…”

And if we are to keeping riding the crest wave of creativity don’t you think we really run the risk of taking all forms of God to what we have done to Buddha…read on…

“Peking se Chicago taak,
Koi nahi curio ki dukaan,
Jaahan bhalei-hi aur na ho kuch,
Buddh ki murti na milea jo maango!
Buddh Bhagwan,
Aamiro ke drawing room, Rahiso ke maakan,
Tumhare chitra, tumhari murti se shobha eeman,
Paar whey hai tumhare darshan se unabhig,
Tumhaare vicharo sey unjaan,
Saapney mein bhi unhe eeska nahi aata dhyan,
Sher ke khaal, hiran ke seengh, kala-karigiri ke namuno ke saath,
Thum bhi ho aaseen,
Logo ke soundar priyata ko deete huay taasken
Esi leye Tum ne eek ke thi aasman zameen?”

Mandate 2009: Part 3: The Bengal Voter – Caught between a Rock and a very hard place

2009-06-03T19:16:00.004+05:30

The current elections threw up a very interesting dilemma for the Bengal voter. Used to as they were, to docilely voting for the ruling Left combine (chup chap lale chaap), since:

a) any other option simply did not exist and,

b) (more importantly) the Left had turned rigging into a both a science and an art with a fine tuned machinery that worked flawlessly to either vote for you or inflate the voter rolls like nobody’s business.

This time around voters in Bengal truly stood at the end of the precipice. No matter which way they voted they had inadvertently booked a one-way ticket downwards. On one hand they had to make sense of the maverick Mamata Banerjee, (Maverick M from hereon) who single-handedly heaved the mighty TATA group from the Bay of Bengal to the Arabian Sea and to my mind pushed the lately awaken industrial drive in Bengal literally to the seas and on the other put up with the arrogance and sheer apathy of the ruling combine, who are so lost in their self-woven cocoon of invincibility that they are hurtling down to be modern day Neros; to burnt down along with Rome.

The rural populace had their own arithmetic to figure out. The Left, which had ridden to power based on this rice and potato growing mass, giving land to the landless etc while shutting down all the industries was suddenly faced with very vocal and strong dissent when they went to buy land for the industrial drive carrying fat purses in tow. The wheel had turned a full circle. Why should the poor and marginal farmer, who had for years being fed on the rhetoric that capitalism and industry were the biggest evil to mankind, suddenly wake-up one fine morning to find you exposing the goodness of industry and be ready to sell his sweat-soaked land to the devil? Maverick ‘M’ maybe mad for all he cared but to her undying credit she did not promote the capitalistic devil to be the newly arisen Leftist God.

The urban voters were in real quandary. With the intellectuals and their mass of followers having already decided to throw in their lot with Maverick ‘M’, the average citizen knew very well that voting for Maverick ‘M’ would push the industrialisation drive down the tube, whereas not voting for the Left (thereby ensuring their defeat) would mean that a badly mauled Left would be on their back foot and would shelve all work on the industrialisation process.

Voters in Bengal sorely missed the ‘No Vote’ button. Had their been one, I dare say the results would have been very difficult what with our high voting percentage (80%) and love of participating in any political process.

We await to see if any fight is left in the Left tiger or the dramatic transformation of Maverick ‘M’ into a development and performance driven leader of the masses. Both these guys have two years to deliver the goods and the portents don’t seem good for the Left as of now.

Mandate 2009: Part 2: In search of the Right Strategy for the Right (Wing) Party

2009-05-29T19:07:00.001+05:30

The Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), India’s own flagship right wing party and I am loath to call it the Hindu Right Wing Party (since they know precious little about the Hindu way of life or its unique but subtle power of assimilation) has since the 2004 general elections, lost much of its sheen, steam and gloss.

If we thought nothing could defeat the BJP in 2004, who were riding high on the urban popularity rating chart and an entire election campaign epitomised by the India Shining Campaign, little did we, urban rats, housed in glass encased towers, hermitically sealed off from the real India, realise the power of the rural populace. The BJP got a historic thumbs down – a shock from which they have been unable to recover till date. Their predicament has been compounded by the sad loss of Pramod Mahajan, their master strategist, who not only made up the moderate face of the party but was responsible for micro-managing each local and state election that the BJP fought while they were in power with, on an average, very satisfactory results.

The current think tank at the BJP is not only woefully short of ideas but at times fatally fails to judge people’s emotions. Take the case of the Mumbai terror attacks – in their haste to show the UPA government in poor light, the whole of the BJP top brass led by Advani and closely followed by Modi landed when blood was still freely following. It left a very bad taste in the people’s mouth and I guess this was one of the major reasons why their rhetoric on terror and its risks never paid off, even if what was mouthed was largely true. Another instance of insanity running riot in the BJP camp was the Quixote (and an extremely ill-advised) attack on Manmohan Singh. He may be whatever else but no one can grudge his academic and intellectual credentials or his honesty and faithfulness to his country and office. Calling such an erudite person ‘nikkamma’ or a good-for-nothing was not done at all, and the country did not buy an iota of this grand Advani dictum.

The BJP, moreover, inspite of having the example of Narendra Modi – who has proved again and again that performance pays – did nothing to assure either the rural or the urban voters about the development agenda of the NDA government. Their constant harping on terror and the myth of a week Prime Minister ended up in not only eroding their voter base but landing with a much lower number of seats in the lower house.

Performance Mr. Advani, performance. That’s the order of the day. Please take a cue from your own chief ministers or your NDA ally Nitish Kumar. They will, I bet, vouch for it. No longer will complicated caste-religion combinations sway the masses as it once did. See the jolt that the detestable Mayawati received!

Mandate 2009: Part 1: Left (Out) in the cold!

2009-05-19T13:36:00.006+05:30

Each time that India goes to vote, the outcome never fails to amaze me. For a country where 72.2% of its population is from rural hinterland and an overall literacy rate of around 61%, the foresight and uncanny sense of politics displayed by that a billion plus people is mind boggling. Every election result is a revelation by itself. If in 2004 no one expected the BJP not to come to power, this time around the mandate to the Congress party has stunned the Congressmen themselves let alone the intelligentsia. The guys who lost the most, this time around, were the Left parties who have been truly left out in the cold for the next five years. The Left parties, on a national level, led by obnoxious Comrade Prakash Karat had, over the period of the last five years, on a number of occasions, brought the government to a paralytic halt on just about every other issue that they took fancy to oppose. With the loud mouthed brigade fronted by A. B. Bhardhan (I deeply detest him and his arrogance) and his ilk following Karat step for step, they had even managed to unceremoniously elbow out political statesmen like Somnath Chatterjee, who as the speaker of the lower house not only exemplified the dignity of the chair but won everyone’s admiration for his bipartisan conduct of proceedings of a normally unruly house and a very vocal opposition. Karat and Co must rue the day they launched a vitriolic campaign to dislodge Somnath as the Speaker of the House. Whatever our politicians may be, they atleast acknowledge an honest man when they see one! and it is no different for the general populace that has blotched many a political party’s dream to forever have their hands on the arm twisting gadget. The Left got a through drubbing in both of their fiefdoms of Bengal and Kerala. Kerala is more understandable since these guys tend to switch their allegiance every five years but Bengal is where they got hurt the most. The Left which had risen as a phoenix over the ashes of the Congress had, over the passage of time and with a lot of water under the bridge, come of think of themselves as invincible. Their almost fanatic belief in their military style organisational prowess, the conversion of rigging and intimidation into a time-tested scientific process and their nose in the air behaviour proved to be their ultimate undoing. You simply can’t afford to alienate the people who vote you to power, can you? This arrogance was also manifest in the utter lack of strategy and diplomacy on the part of the intellectually bent Chief Minister, whose inapt handling of both the Singur and Nandigram crises drove the normally docile Bengali intelligentsia enmass into the, only too happy arms of Mamata Banerjee – famous for her not so clean nor artfully draped saree and her rabble rousing antics. Who thought that the Left would meet its nemesis in the hands of a Lady, whose only merit has been to throw earth shattering tantrums at the drop of the hat! It would be interesting to see how the Left reacts in Bengal with the assembly elections due in two years, which on a politicians calendar is no time at all.

Oscared Slumdog Millionaire

2009-02-23T16:59:00.005+05:30

The Oscar's are all but over and ‘Slumdog Millionaire’, a desi movie by a videshi has won an enviable bevy of 8 Oscars – a no mean feat. The crowning glory – AR winning two Oscars and Resul Pookutty bagging the Best Sound Mixing Oscar – a commendable performance, especially for Resul, knowing that we Indians don’t have access to the best technologies as our more lucky compatriots in the west do. It would do every Indian proud to see their homeboys rubbing shoulders with the best there is of Hollywood, standing up on the world stage and chanting ‘Jai Hind’ in unison.

Of the very few films that I see each year, I was goaded into viewing Slumdog Millionaire by my wife, enamored as she was with the rave reviews that appeared in almost all print and electronic media. I must confess, and I would be one of those one-in-a-million kinds, who stepped out of the theater extremely disappointed. I did not like the film, period. A good film is as much about a good story, a story that forces you to think and reflect, as it is about good technique, direction, use of the technology etc, among a host of other such parameters. To me, a good film leaves behind a good and long lasting aftertaste, which, at the very least hangs on for a couple of days if not more. Slumdog Millionaire does nothing of that sort. I forgot the film as I stepped out of the hall, that's it! While I do not grudge the musical and technical awards that it has won (adapted screenplay, film editing, sound mixing, cinematography, original score and original song), but the fact that the film has won the Best Picture and Best Director Award is a huge dilution for what the Oscar’s stand for. Why is it that the film has captured the imagination of the jury? It has an average storyline – a rags-to-riches story with a fair bit of romance thrown in, a cop who moves from being malevolent to benevolent, and a fair bit of blood and gory. Here's why I think the western critics feel for the film.

Every country and race has, due to some quirk of history, been typecast into certain image patterns. For instance the image that India generates is one of cows, sadhus, poverty, slums, filth, corruption etc. An African-American is typically seen as a druggie, mugger, a member of some vicious gang etc. Africa on the other hand brings up images of wild animals, suffering, abject poverty and hunger. These are images that appeal to us the most and hold true our mental image of the race and country. Most of the tourists from the western world helplessly retain images of India as dusty and noisy country, beggar children with snooty noses peering through the car window as you wait for the lights to change, unruly traffic, potbellied cops etc. For an average western mind, India and its ever changing colour, its huge diversity of culture, its languages, its religious diversity, its chaos is a bit too much to take in and understand. No Sir, we are not an easy country and race to understand. So when Danny Boyle holds aloft a medley of images that western audiences are so used to seeing, it is then that they start feeling comfortable and see in the film the India of their imagination. The film portrays the image of India most tourists retain – a superficial, surface view – a view that shows just one small (but true) side of a complex crystal like shape that is India. Good, but is that good enough to win a Best Picture Oscar? The hype that the film created in India also exposes the deep scar in the Indian psyche left by years of British rule – a period during which Indian were left to feel as savages without a sense of history or culture. Deep down somewhere we are still diffident in taking a divergent view to the pronouncements of the Western world. Thus, as the film started getting rave reviews in the west, the Indian critic too started to toe the western line, with the media jumping into the fray. Except for Amitabh Bachchan, and kudos to him, for standing out (though I really didn’t know why, before I saw the film), there has been little noise to the contrary. Yes the film has been shot well, edited well, the score was fantastic and all that but to win the Best Picture and Best Director awards? My view of what the Oscars stand for has gone down quite a number of notches.

The golden bullet…

2009-01-20T13:27:00.004+05:30

While this has nothing to do with the subject of the post, I was surprised to note that Indians are the United States’ biggest supporters, not withstanding the belligerent cacophony of Karat and Co. We have, in our admiration of the US, left behind a trailing list of countries that comprises of almost all the power blocks that are subservient to the US. The Russians and Turks are the guys that hate the US the most while we keep crowning the Taliban with that honour.

-----xxx----

With Obama, set to take oath of office today, the US has worked itself into a proper frenzy – the likes of which has not been seen in modern times. The credit undoubtedly lies with Barack Hussain Obama whose emotive appeal for ‘change’ and ‘hope’ has not only captured the imagination of the youth – the world over, but I guess, somewhere deep down we were all weary of the conflicts, the very real shadow of terror that we spend our days in, and the tailspin that the global economy has been sent into due to the reckless greed of large financial institutions and individuals straddling them.

‘Hope’ is undoubtedly the one single emotion that we all live by. Strip us of this and the world would be populated by a set of zombies, with nothing to look forward to. It is to Obama’s credit and oratory skills that he has held out a bright beckon of hope – a hope that wanted to see an African-American holding the most powerful office on earth, a hope that a sane, thinking and empathetic person would be in a position to make some real changes in how we want to live in this world, and a multitude of other manifestations of hope.

Obama has, so far, held onto the high moral ground, making all the right noises, astutely choosing his lieutenants and largely justifying the faith that the American people have reposed on him, but he has also, in the process, created a mountain of expectations. While he has been trying his best to bring down expectations to a manageable level, the people, I am afraid, wouldn’t be as patient as he would like them to be. With the eyes of the world on him, Obama must during his presidency try and bring some sanity into the world; move beyond the narrow and vested confines of geo-political interests to deliver on substantial environmental goals, use the power of the US to help address the causes of terrorism, bridge the increasingly widening gap between moderates and fanatics, and deliver fast on the economy.

Obama has wriggled himself into an unenviable situation where he is seen as a golden bullet, a panacea for all that ails the world. If we were to lose his cool or his head, the self-created mountain of hope that he has so carefully carved out would turn into an ugly Frankenstein, ready to mercilessly devour its creator. Obama needs all our prayers and wishes to succeed; succeed not only for himself, but for the world – so that the youth in each and every country can elect from among themselves such change agents, who can make a real difference in our lives.

Best of Luck Barack Hussain Obama and God Speed!

A New Year is upon us...

2009-01-01T12:01:00.004+05:30

I going through a phase of extreme writer’s block…there are a lot of things that I think needs writing about, but the past month has been a lot of false starts, ending up with nothing… I hope the new year would be kind on me…till then may I impress upon you to read what I felt (what a bloated ego!!) were my best 2008 posts…

Here goes...(each posts opens in a new window!)

An Interview with Mamata Banerjee

One Billion People One Gold Medal

Marathi Pride

Contentment - are you on its left or right? (esoteric)

The nonchalance of the political class

2008-11-27T17:55:00.005+05:30

The Festive Season...

2008-10-30T09:24:00.004+05:30

This time around, the festive season seems to have come on in a hurry and has, as equally, left in a rush. Most of the time the festive season gets spread across October and November giving us a feel of an extended season of fun and celebrations, but this year the entire season had got cramped into October and with the last of the events today (Bhai Dooj) we are staring at a long year ahead before the new season sets in.

Here are some snaps from our Diwali celebrations. All of these snaps were taken by my little Bro.

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Interview with Mamata Banerjee

2008-09-15T09:15:00.002+05:30

I must confess that I am very poor with the lay of Kolkata even after spending more than 4 years here and therefore used the services of a driver to land me to Mamata’s current abode – set right in the middle of a labyrinth of narrow lanes. I was surprised that Mamata had so readily agreed to be interviewed – not after my, shall we say, encouraging last post on the Singur impasse.

So there I was, standing at the formidable lady’s doorway; me in my tee and jeans, with a borrowed digital camera slung awkwardly across my shoulder and a thick black BILT notebook in my hand. Did I look the jurno type I wonder! But I sure was all strung up. This was after all my first celebrity interview!

As I stood at the doorway debating how to address the lady, the door opens up to reveal her Ladyship herself and I blurted out in Bengali, “Mashi, ami Supratim, interview-ta netae eschi” which to effect meant “Auntie, this is Supratim and I have come for the interview…” Her Ladyship visibly stiffened and with a sharp scowl responded “I am no one’s Mashi, call me Didi….everyone calls me Didi here so…anyway come on in”.

Here’s a verbatim transcript of the interview that ensured:

SK: It’s an honour to be having been invited to carry this interview and thank you for sparing time from your hectic-hectic schedule.

MB: Let’s dispense with the niceties…make it quick…there is a delegation of some social activists who I am expecting in 20 minutes…will you care for some tea?

SK: No, Thank you. Can we start…and would you mind if I record the interview?

MB: I am waiting…and please keep the recorder between the two of us and don’t fiddle with it.

SK: Didi, I have heard that there are three P’s that your life revolves around – Poetry, Politics and Painting – how do you order the three P’s and why only P’s?

MB: The three P’s are like three children to me…I love each of them equally and like all children they vie for my attention always, but the eldest one ‘Politics’ is by far the naughtiest and the unruly one…and while these are the main P’s there are some smaller P’s (she smiles) – P’s that no one knows about.

SK: Didi, can you shed light on the other P’s?

MB: Well, I have never spoken publicly on those….but…okay…one of them is plotting (she gives a mischievous grin and her eyes twinkle). You know Supratim I am a dramatist at heart…I love drama…but there is only a small wrinkle here…while I know how to start a drama, I have still not mastered the art of developing a closure…I guess it will come in time…

SK: (A little wide-eyed) Didi, if you don’t mind, could you please elaborate on this?

MB: Look, I started the extended Metro project while I was the Railways Minister in Delhi but even after a decade it’s yet to see the light of day….more recently the Nandigram impasse…I started it out well and there was a lot of drama…the plot was nicely sewed up but then the ending…Singur…again, I thought I had thought out the ending…but the ending is veering away from my ending. It’s maddening I say….each of my dramas behaving so atrociously!

SK: (I don’t have the heart to ask about her other P’s and lunge for the next question) Didi, I understand your feelings about Singur but why did you block the national highway?

MB: (Didi gets visibly agitated here) You guys are no different…you are speaking just like those media guys…and I thought…No I did not block the highway…the highway came between us and the oppressors (TATA’s). If the government and the honourable courts were so concerned about the highway why, tell me why, didn’t they move the highway a little sideways…Ba re!

SK: Didi, I noticed that Medha Patekar is your ardent supporter. How did you meet her?

MB: Truth be told, I didn’t know about her till the Narmada Dam issue came up and drove her hopping mad (dam read backwards!!!). But once I met her I felt that we had a lot in common! We don’t invest in combs, always wear white sarees – a little dirty and crumpled sometimes – and can be heard for miles around, with or without a microphone. Not to forget she is a social activist and I activate societies.

SK: Didi, the Nano project by the TATA’s is supposed to help industrialisation in the state, why are you opposing it?

MB: I am not opposing the project…this is all wrong…it is those communist agents who are spreading this type of disinformation…let me put the record straight…I am all for industrialisation but why do these TATA need so much land…small car, small land…better still no land…we all know agriculture needs land, but whoever said industrialisation needs land…you seem to be a sensible person, you should know…

SK: But…

MB: I am not finished…and please don’t interrupt…I lose my train of thoughts and focus…As I was saying, why can’t the farmer farm the farm while Tata Babu makes his car…that way he can shout to the farmer who can help him paint the car or fit the bumper or help in a thousand other things and the farmer can always sell the freshest produce…Tata babu can always have the freshest breakfast, lunch and dinner…grow healthy and produce more small cars…and there we are, everyone happy.

SK: But Didi, the Tata’s would need to create factories to mass produce the cars and this will help generate jobs for the people and a myriad other things.

MB: Maybe you are not as bright as you look… Dhritarastra (the mythical Indian king in the Mahabharata) had, if I recollect correctly, over 100 children and in one lifetime…he is the father of mass production in India and did he need a factory…and here we have Tata babu who is a spinster but thinks about mass production…and didn’t I just tell you that Tata Babu could shout to the farmer for help…I am lowering Tata babu’s cost and there he is threatening to withdraw the project.

It is at this point that Derek O’Brian, the noted columnist and humble Trinamool (Mamata’s political outfit) worker steps in.

DOB: I couldn’t help overhearing and had to step in. Didi is absolutely right. When will you guys understand Didi. She has the good of everyone at heart…the good of Bengal…its people, farmers, workers and the industrialists of India.

MB: Derek, it is no use explaining anything to these guys…and Supratim is no different. It was my mistake that I thought that he was different. Why, I can hear the social activists shouting…they must have turned into our alley…I got to go!

And thus,I unceremoniously ended my first celebrity interview, and in the rush of things all but forgot about taking an interview snap and have had to rely on one of those google(ed) images.

Maybe Buddhadev Bhattacharya will accede to my interview request next.

When Politicians lose their marbles...

2008-09-09T12:07:00.006+05:30

What does a nation or a state do when confronted with politicians who have figuratively and literally lost their marbles? Take the case of Mamata Banerjee, the indomitable and maverick politician, who ironically swears by the three P’s – Painting, Politics and Poetry – don’t ask me in what order. She has single-handedly managed to hold an entire state to ransom by going hammer and tongs at the TATA’s ‘Nano’ car project at Singur; and going by the latest reports the TATA’s are peeved at the way the dispute has been handled and are in a good mood to pull out of the state and relocate their signal small car project.

It’s a strange breed of mammals these politicians – thinking the shortest of the short term – if and when they are thinking, if at all! If this wasn’t enough we have so called ‘intellectuals’ and ‘social activists’ a.k.a. Medha Patkar and her likes – who love nothing but diving right into the already murky waters as soon a ripe and juicy opportunity presents itself – Singur being a case in point. The Singur impasse has all the portents of pushing the state back into the industrial dark ages with the Wipro’s and Infosys’s of life emitting ominous growls.

While there will always be a heated debate on whether agriculture should take precedence over industry or vice-versa, in so much as land is concerned – the ability to arrive at an amicable solution, where the interests of each of the stakeholders are addressed to the maximum extent possible, is what is sorely missing from our political masters. While listening to the Guv (Gopal Krishna Gandhi), who mediated between the opposition and the government, I felt the TATA’s would necessarily have been taken into confidence by the back-room boys and posted minute by minute on the unfolding discussions. It is stupefying to even think that a government would go-ahead and negotiate deals with its distracters without taking one of the principal stakeholders into confidence. What use is of having an intellectual in Buddhadev Bhattacharya as the Chief Minister?

On one hand we have the intransigence of Mamata Banerjee, who like Nero was painting Khaas Phool (a kinda flower?), confident in the belief that she is doing good for the state and its populace, while infact she had single-handedly managed to push ‘industrialisation’ on an express elevator to hell. On the other side of the coin are the honourable Chief Minister and his colleagues working like a pair of Tweeddalde and Tweeddaldums unaware of the basics of negotiating deals – forever content with igniting and fighting fire.

One Billion People...One Gold Medal

2008-08-12T17:59:00.004+05:30

Abhinav Bindra, and all kudos to him for winning India’s first individual Olympic gold medal, also amplifies the huge string of malaises that afflicts the Indian sporting fraternity. Apart from the all important sport of Cricket, which literally rains money, and where we sadly end up losing more than winning, no other form of sports has had any measure of success at the larger world stage. A person like Abhinav can succeed, no doubt, due to his grit and determination but more importantly because he has access to independent funds to fuel his dreams. Had he lacked the necessary funds or depended solely on government infrastructure I am sure he wouldn’t have been able to reach the heights that he reached. This is true for almost all sports where private money provides access to world class sporting infrastructure. Take for instance Sania Mirza or better still Viswanathan Anand. They have reached the world stage inspite of the government’s lackadaisical attitude to sports and sportsmen in general.

In India where politics permeates almost everything, sports has fallen victim into its vice grip. The politicians have, as a unit, colluded to keep India in the dark ages as far as competitive sports is concerned and corruption is endemic. Look at what they have done to our hockey team or in the latest case where Monica Devi, was so unceremoniously pulled out of the Beijing Olympics Weightlifting team on half baked doping charges, which were later withdrawn. But the damage had been done by then.

It’s maddening to think that our polity is so spineless that they don’t feel any emotion whatsoever to see such a large nation religiously ending up at the tail end of any medal tally or can’t they just simply look over their shoulders and see where China has taken its sporting fraternity.

It is said that a people deserves the government that it gets, which to a large measure may be true, but are one billion people so warped that their politicians, who after 6+ decades of independence, can garner only one individual Olympic gold medal and that to inspite them!

Singh is King. But is it long lives the King?

2008-07-24T10:14:00.002+05:30

With the advent of 24 x 7 television in India and ‘live’ pictures being beamed right into our bedrooms (or wherever you happened to have plonked your TV set) the drama played out in the Parliament, during the trust motion, was taken to an entirely different level – a surreal, supremely sad multi act play.

The Nuclear Deal, rather than being issue of extreme national importance, that needed debate and civilised exchange of views, became an ego issue for the Left parties – an issue so emotive to Mrs. and Mr. Karat, the revulsion to the US so profound that they had had to try all they could to bring the government down.

I was listening to the fire-brand Cho Ramaswamy, and I couldn’t agree more that Manmohan Singh is a straight and honest political fellow – a man who has had the courage of standing by his conviction (right or wrong only time will tell), and one who was ready to walk the walk if the government came crashing down. The other guy who stood tall among all the muck that was flying around was Somnath Chatterjee – the Speaker of the house –and now an expelled member of CPI(M). It’s rare to see in Indian politics people honouring the sanctity of the chair that they occupy. Hat’s off to him.

You couldn’t say that of any political party. The ‘nuclear deal’ became the Samajwadi Party’s golden steed to ride into the UPA vacuum left by the Left, and with what sweet timing! Left to themselves both the SP and the Congress would have been almost certainly obliterated from the Hindi/UP heartland in the next polls. Some politicians, on the other hand, started giving the deal a ‘religious’ hue. A certain political cretin was heard mouthing that the deal was bad for Muslims. Hey! If the deal does finally end up giving us much needed electricity, the government of the day would find it extremely taxing to keep power away from Muslim households, while the rest of the populace basks in nuclear reflected ‘light’.

Then there are political vermin like Sibhu Soren, the guy with unkempt hair, who put his party’s support for sale. Thus he ended up with two ministerial berths and a deputy chief- ministership for his son and God knows how much cash. Mayawati, on the other hand, demonstrated her political astuteness, however much we may dislike her personally. She camped herself firmly in Delhi, getting the first whiff of the discontent and wonder of wonders was able to convince the wily Deva Gowda and Ajit Singh to bat for her. The myopic Left projected her as a future Prime Minister, leaving a lot of people, including me, feeling how much of a battering can India take.

The BJP came off the worst from the conflict. Their mind was not in the battle, after all the deal was their brainchild. Advani was the reluctant general, who had no option but to play the role of the opposition to the hilt. The BJP could have carved for itself a much neater position, had they stopped being an opposition for the sake of opposition and played a constructive role. Manmohan, in retrospect shouldn’t also have taken umbrage at Advani and should have understood the latter’s political compulsions and need to play to the gallery.

Net-net, I wouldn’t say Manmohan has emerged stronger, since he along with the Congress employed every trick in the book to stick to power – however desperate that may have sounded. You may say they had a point to prove, but that was inconsequential to the avowed moralistic and nationalistic position that he had taken by going ahead with engaging with the IAEA. A lot of sheen got wiped off his armour by the guiles that the Congress party resorted to.

There is a silver lining in the cloud though – in the inflation ridden days that we live in, it’s a surprise that the price of our MPs have plummeted to Rs. 3 Crores (insead of Rs. 30 Crores). On a more serious note, we will now hopefully get to see more economic openness from this government and passage of bills that were held back due to the Left opposition.

Part II - What is the deal in the nuclear deal? The US interests.

2008-07-03T16:24:00.002+05:30

Proverbially, there are only two sides of a coin, but as far as the Indo-US nuke deal is concerned, it’s more like a crystal, with multiple sides. In my first part of the post, I tried to debunk the nuclear energy aspect of the deal that is being currently espoused by our political leaders – at least the wherewithal of giving to the nation nuclear based energy on a strict timeline basis. Now to the other side of this vexing deal – Why is the US so interested in pushing the deal through? I would be loath to think that the US has our energy interests and security in mind and would be losing sleepless nights over it!

First and foremost, contain China

With the rise of the new world order with only one super-daddy, the vacuum created by USSR would sooner than later be filled up, and what better horse to bet upon than China. Here’s where the US policy mandarins start squirming. They would be loath to see China as a super-daddy, inimical to US interests and its desire to police the world seriously curtailed.

India, on the other hand, fits the bill neatly – We are close to China, have a burgeoning economy, are a democracy (like the US!), straddle a large part of the world with an even larger population. So, pitch India against China and hey presto! China is somehow, hopefully contained. What the US is forgetting is that to counter the India threat, China would continue to fuel and enrich the Pakistani nuke program. A zero-sum game and you start converting this place of the world into a mad basketplace, if it’s already isn’t. Well, to add to it the last bit of the tail, the US creates a large market for its armaments which it would hitherto miss if India is not on its right side.

Contain Non-proliferation

The US is being downright stupid here. India, has been, and continues to be among the most responsible (non-acknowledged) nuclear powers. We are not the guys going out and selling our nuke wares or technology to whoever comes calling. Please look a little beyond our boundaries…So, if you guys are touting that by having the deal, we can legally procure reactor fuel, you also thereby mean that we are being dishonest right now in our nuke fuel dealings – and that is an unacceptable position. Please concentrate on the bad guys.

India signs up the CTBT...

The US would be keen to see India as a signatory of the CTBT, and the give and take of the deal would ensure this. Pah! The US itself has not signed up and it’s expecting us to go ahead! I hope the South Block guys know what they are doing!

Make the world a greener one!

It’s common knowledge that the developed world shoots up more carbon in the air than the developing world. If the Indo-US nuke is to ensure that, we in India, shoot up less carbon, it is a noble thought but than ought the US not clean up its act at home!

So, what to do we have here? It’s beyond me to comment whether the deal is good or bad for India. It is for our foreign office mandarins to ponder upon…but I hope our political masters are shrewd enough to judge if they are leaving the country stronger and more secure by going into the deal.

If you want to read the previous post, click on the June archive on the right hand pane.

Part – I: What is the deal in the nuclear deal?

2008-06-24T16:06:00.004+05:30

The past few months has witnessed a lot of angst among political parties in India over the proposed nuclear deal with the United States. The actors have ranged themselves into three distinct camps – the ayes, the nays and the vacillators. The Congress party leads the ayes camp with the entire jamboree of Left parties making up the nays camp. UPA allies currently occupy the vacillators camp with the BJP waiting in the wings to either crumple or resurrect the deal.

The common populace is nowhere on the scene due to the absence any form of public debate or discussion and most of us are largely unaware of the need for and the ramifications of the deal.

The Prime Minister has been insisting that the deal is essential to help us meet India’s future energy needs. On the energy front India, to-date, relies heavily on fossil fuel. The energy break-up stands somewhat like this:

Coal and Coal Products: 58%
Crude Oil, Natural Gas Liquids and Natural Gas: 37%
Nuclear Energy: 1.3%
Hydro Electric: 2.6%

The data is a couple of years old but except for minor deviations remain more or less same. You would notice that we have an overwhelming reliance on fossil fuels and coal is among the most dirty carbon fuels, with our reserves promising to last another 20 – 30 years at the current rate of consumption. On the nuclear energy front, unlike what is being touted by the Congress, the picture too is bleak. In 1954, India’s Atomic Energy Commission declared that nuclear plants would provide 8,000 megawatts of electricity by 1980-81. Yet, by 1970, only 420 megawatts were being generated. In 1971, Vikram Sarabhai, the chairman of the Atomic Energy Committee, scaled back projections, saying that by 1980-81, India would be producing 2,700 megawatts of electricity. Almost thirty years later our nuclear plants are now producing roughly 2,700 megawatts of electricity. But the Indian mandarins are undaunted and proclaim, for all who can hear, that we will produce 10,000 megawatts of nuclear power by 2010 and 20,000 megawatts of electricity from nuclear plants by the year 2020. If that’s not wishful thinking what is…and we have still not touched the cost of producing nuclear driven power. What the Prime Minister has incidentally forgotten to tell us (Ashwathma eti gaja) is that the Indian uranium reserves - about 0.8% of the world, falls woefully short and we are running out of fuel for the nation’s existing nuclear plants and let alone building and operating new plants.

That’s where the nuclear deal steps in, promising us permission to import nuclear fuel for our plants which we are currently unable to do so because of nonproliferation rules. There are more grander plans on the way...Our scientists feel that with a planned nuclear energy programme, the available Uranium can be used to harness the energy contained in non-fissile thorium, of which India possesses about 32% of the world's reserves. To get to use thorium powered energy we need to go through a three a staged development process:

1st Stage: Pressurised Heavy Water Reactors using Natural Uranium as fuel and producing Plutonium which is recovered in reprocessing plants for initiating the 2nd Stage.

2nd Stage: Fast Breeder Reactors using Plutonium as fuel and breeding Plutonium and uranium-233.

3rd Stage: Thorium and uranium-233 based reactors.

With our current capabilities of generating nuclear power, the move to Uranium based power to Thorium based power seems a distant pipe-dream.

In part II of the post we shall investigate US interests in pushing the deal through

The Other World...

2008-05-23T15:11:00.004+05:30

Get up from bed…finishing the morning routines takes about 30 minutes…grab a quick bite…collect ur car keys…off I go melting into the morning traffic to my place of work some 16 kms away…so what’s new? Nothing, except that I don’t have to worry about where my next meal will come from or whether a stray rocket is going to vaporise my house along with it’s occupants by the time I return home…or wonder why the trash has been collecting on the streets for years on end, so much so that my landmarks are one putrid mound to the next cause all the familiar landmarks have been shelled and bombed to oblivion or shall I be happy that I no longer see rotting and animal feasted bodies on the streets and that the dead need only wait a day to be picked up.

Those of us who live on the other side of the world can’t for a minute imagine the life an ordinary Iraqi lives or what the Afghans had to go through during the vacuum created by the withdrawing Soviet army, the different warlords reducing the Afghan nation to shambles or the misrule of the Talibans…Today’s Iraq is no different nor are the other countless war-torn territories that we don’t have a clue about.

We can only glean the outer visages of this world from the literature that comes our way and can’t help but feel a sweltering mix of emotions…..blessed that our morning routines have remained unchanged in years…horrified that nations and people can wrought such havoc on humanity….helpless…

“After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?--
It is impossible to say just what I mean!”

The Love Song of Alfred J Prufrock (T. S. Elliot)

For those of you who would like to visit the fringes of this 'other world' read “A Thousand Splendid Suns” by Khaled Hosseini and dispatches by Anna Badkhen from Iraq on Salon.

First African Author...

2008-05-07T13:28:00.004+05:30

Every time I read a particularly captivating book by an author who I haven’t read before, I feel like kicking myself for discovering him or her, as the case may be, so late in my reading cycle. It has been an unfailing ritual with me! My latest discovery has been Doris Lessing and what a revelation she has been! Some of you guys out there may be thinking “Ain’t seen a bigger dud”, but what the heck – never late than never!

It was pure serendipity that the book that my paw rested on was ‘the grass is singing’, Doris’s first novel, set in Southern Rhodesia, today’s Zimbabwe. An intense and captivating book, Doris brings to the fore her powerful experience of life in Southern Rhodesia, the country that her father chose to travel to make his pot of gold by going the farming route. The reader is pitch forked right into the middle of the action from the word go as Doris throws open a window through which we see and intimately experience the life of the main protagonist Mary Turner.

Mary shows us how deep the racial divide ran between the white settlers and coloured natives. Her life exposes the subtle but unmistakeable class system within the whites themselves and their unrecorded and unspoken rules of camaraderie. More importantly it is through Mary that we learn the rules of engagement with the coloured – so biased, so inhuman, that at times it fills you with a sense of loathing for the people who could have behave thus.

As we journey along with Mary in the rural hinterland of Southern Rhodesia, we experience the natural vividness of Africa, feel the searing heat of the midday sun thru Mary’s tin roofed house that misses a ceiling, and get swallowed by the nights filled with strange sounds.

As Mary gradually disintegrates and the racial lines, that were drawn so taut in her life, dissolves we experience the utter destitution that human’s are capable of bringing onto themselves, by their actions and inactions. Mary also brings to the fore, how our life’s journey is decided by our childhood experiences and how utterly incapable we are to escape its death like vice.

Cooking the Nation's books - Part II

2008-03-26T15:52:00.003+05:30

Carrying on from where I so abruptly sliced the ‘Cooking the Nations Books’ post into two… I ended up downloading the whole sheaf of financial statements from the Finance Ministry site and started my elevator ride down the black hole of numbers in tens and hundreds of millions.

We shall, for the purpose of this post, not worry about whether the figures are in Crores (10 Million) or Lacs (Hundred Thousand) but the pure arithmetic gymnastics of the mandarins of the Finance Ministry. Almost all receipts and disbursements are maintained in a book termed as the ‘Consolidated Fund of India’, which also details the receipts and disbursements under the ‘Capital Account’. A second book of accounts titled ‘Public Account of India’ deals with funds against which the government either earns interest or disburses monies. This book is not what we are concerned with.

The first thing that struck me was the callousness with which the books have been prepared. The guys tasked with making the Financial Statements did not even check to make sure that all additions are in place and I found multiple instances of totalling mistakes. I feverishly hope that the guys noted the figures correctly and that a 69 didn’t get transformed to 96.

Here’s how the figures stack up….

Earnings/Receipts:

Taxes (all taxes under the sun) fetches the government Rs. 687,679.00 crores. Of the monies earned Rs. 178,765.00 crores is shared between the various states leaving the federal government with Rs. 508,914.00 crores (A) to play with. Non Tax Revenues fetches the government Rs. 224,519.55 crores (B) and a further Rs. 55,183.89 crores (C) is shown as receipts under Revenue deficits (by what logic I fail to fathom). Add to this Rs. 1,901,142.94 (D) which is shown under receipts from the Capital Account. Here is the interesting part - Rs. 1,884,985.43 crores is money raised as public debt, which in turn constitutes 99.15% of all receipts under the Capital Account.

Going forward if we add up A+B+C+D, the governments earnings stands at Rs. 2,689,760.38 of which the government raises 70.08% as debt and do you recall any of the economists or corporate honchos ever raising the red flag and taking the government to task!

The disbursements/spendings of the government provides a much bleaker picture. Read on….

Disbursements/Spending:

Disbursements shown under the Revenue Account stands at Rs. 785,583.70 crores (A), all Capital Expenditure heads add up to Rs. 1,839,833.97 crores (B) and a host of other expenses are charged simply by saying ‘Disbursements Charged on the consolidated Funds of India’ which adds up to a staggering Rs. 1,994,729.44 crores (C). Add A + B + C and the government ends up spending Rs. 4,620,147.11 crores, spending almost double of what it earns. The shocking part here is not that we end up spending more than we earn, but 72.31% of all earnings are spent towards debt servicing. No wonder we have precious little left for education, infrastructure development etc etc and to top it all none of the myriad hued analysts, who go though the budget using a fine tooth comb, have though it fit to share the information with the public.

Not only does the shortfall between earnings and expenses stands at a shocking Rs. 1,930,386.73 crores, but our honoured Finance Minister has not included the Rs. 60,000 crores of the farmer largess nor has he added the financial implications of the sixth pay commission in the budget. As per the latest news that’s emerging, the government will end up forking out Rs. 30,000 crores to meet the revised increased salaries, shooting up the already high deficit to Rs. 2,020,386.73 crores.

This kind of financial jugglery has been done by almost all governments since the late 70’s sinking the federal government’s finances further and further into debt which, as we stand today, is an extremely vicious circle and an extremely tight spot to get out of until some drastic measures are taken to enforce fiscal discipline in the system.

Cooking the Nation's books - Part I

2008-03-17T15:49:00.002+05:30

This post unlike my other posts was never meant to be. As with every other ordinary citizen the annual Budgeting exercise by the federal government held little significance for me, except for an understanding of what one has to fork out by way of taxes, prices for various commodities etcetera etcetera. This post is also, by the way, the culmination of two significant insights.

a. Never pre-judge
b. You don’t know what your elected governments (past, present and future) are upto!

It all started with one of the group companies, of the organisation which I work for, organising a talk on the latest budget by a certain gentleman from Delhi who wasn’t someone I had ever heard of. The budget had been, by then, declared, analysed, poked, rifled and sifted by the doyens of the industries and honchos from the various - some known, some unknown - trade bodies and chambers. Almost everyone in my organisation tasked to make the talk show a success thought, ‘Hey! We know the budget… it has been discussed threadbare…no surprises there, so what on earth is this guy going to talk about?’ The guys from the media, whom we had invited for the event, had turned up their noses and didn’t want to cover ‘stale’ news. I must admit that none of us knew what the guy was going to speak about but had all mentally decided that there couldn’t be anything new that we could learn – don’t we all watch TV and read the papers. Big mistake – the guy spoke what no one had spoken before. With a memory of an elephant he reeled off figures and statistics that showed how an elected government can hoodwink its own people and made bare to the audience the government’s utter failure at fiscal discipline even with an economist as the PM at the top of the political-bureaucratic pile. Thus the first insight – don’t ever pre-judge! The second insight, following furiously at the heels of the first, was more sombre and shocking. I had heard of fiscal deficit and how the government ends up spending more than it earns but the magnitude of the problem and how callously almost all governments, from the late 70’s onwards, have mishandled India’s finances is amazing. Thus I ended up downloading the latest budget statements from the government site and started my own poking and sifting, trying to make sense of all that governmental legalese.

This post, I fear, is going to get stretched, calling for a lot of scrolling, and those of you my dear readers who trudged along till this line, please bear with me. I have spilled this post into another to make for easier reading. The second part deals with the figures that appear in the latest budget and will hopefully reveal to you how the government pulls wool over our eyes.

Marathi Pride?

2008-02-14T16:45:00.001+05:30

I have always felt, since the time I could think coherently about political affairs, that our first Prime Minister, Jawaharlal Nehru, had committed a colossal mistake by carving up the various states in India on the basis of linguistic lines. As an idealist he must have felt this was the right thing to do but then he overlooked man’s propensity, even if he is a highly educated individual, to be extremely parochial when it comes to religion or race or ethnicity.

Politicians being politicians, the world over, will by nature, try to exploit every fissure in society to their advantage. Mumbai – among the most cosmopolitan cities in India has been in the throes of street violence prompted by the rabble rousing speech of Mr. Raj Thackeray, where not only did he invoke the latent Marathi pride but called for the ouster of all North Indians from Maharashtra. These were the guys who were, supposedly, taking up all the local jobs and though he did not say in so many words, meant that they ended up vitiating the air over Maharashtra. Surprisingly, except for the film fraternity, there hasn’t been a single whimper of protest from the so called urbane intellectual class. The rest of India and the world are no different.

The political equation, though, is entirely different and complex here. The Congress/NCP combine are pushing the MNS (Raj Thackeray’s party) to grab a sizeable portion of the Marathi soul that the Shiv Sena, (which had its formative roots in the Marathi pride syndrome), was gradually vacillating away from, in its endeavour to project a more nationalistic flavour. The Congress/NCP stands to gain a lot of ground when the vote bank becomes as much fractured as possible, while the Samajwadi Party hopes to create a foothold by riding on the backs of the sizeable North Indian migrant population in Maharashtra.

Early pre-independent India, when it was still ruled as a conglomerate of princely states didn’t have to struggle with linguistic driven parochial violence and where the political shenanigans of the modern world were missing. I wonder what history would have been like if Nehru didn’t choose to divide the states the way he did.

We haven’t seen the last of such violence and with our politicians being what they are, expect an encore of the appalling narrow mindedness that the modern populace is capable of.

Contentment – are you on its left or right?

2008-01-24T18:56:00.000+05:30

As we weave through life and follow predictable life-routines…wake up..the loo routine…the morning grub…rush to work…swear at your fellow motorists…etc etc the level of mindless automation that we have achieved is amazing. During those rare moments when we sit back and think about what we are doing and where we are hurtling towards, life has this funny way of rushing in and sweeping all those thoughts under the carpet. Life is the chameleon here taking the form of our children suddenly brawling or the wife either cosying up or screaming or a myriad other distractions.

Are you content? That’s the moot question! Or as T. S. Elliot’s central character in his poem The Love Song of Alfred J Prufrock, shall we also in chorus refrain:

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
(They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”)
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
(They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”)
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

Do we dare disturb the universe that we have created around ourselves and turn back and descend the stair and give up the hustle and bustle of life to do what we really care. Are we really content?

We have all our lives, atleast us middle class Indians, been goaded by our parents and society to climb the ladder of success, participate and win in the rat race…chase our tails till kingdom come…and here I am.. neither a doctor nor an engineer..things that an Indian parent would give their limbs for to have their children achieve..thinking which side of contentment am I? Content that I have the means to enjoy’s life’s pleasures or should I follow that part of me that wants to chuck it all up…go to Benaras, the city where I have left my soul…float in the Ganges…and do what I cherish to do – write!

Stop awhile and think, which side of contentment are you?

Dancing with Death...

2007-12-28T16:43:00.000+05:30

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.

Monumental Bureaucratic Apathy!

2007-11-28T16:14:00.000+05:30

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.

Presidential Couplets.....

2007-09-06T19:01:00.000+05:30

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!

In the eyes of law...

2007-08-03T19:24:00.001+05:30

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.

Revisiting a Poet-King

2007-07-16T16:07:00.000+05:30

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

Getting smacked where it hurts!

2007-06-12T14:03:00.000+05:30

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!

New Found Love – William Dalrymple

2007-04-24T19:38:00.000+05:30

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

3% Cess into the Cesspool….

2007-03-01T09:54:00.000+05:30

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!

Life unbearable…

2007-02-13T09:57:00.000+05:30

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.

Saddam Hanged!

2007-01-01T17:56:00.000+05:30

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?

Wishing everyone a great New Year

2006-12-29T19:14:00.000+05:30

YOU are the Time Person of the Year.

2006-12-19T15:31:00.000+05:30

You and me, the nameless entities who straddle between the real and the virtual worlds, trawling the depths of the Internet and those of us living by it have just been awarded the TIME magazine ‘Person of the Year Award’. We have now joined the haloed portal along with the likes of Charles Lindbergh, Mahatma Gandhi, Queen Elizabeth II, Charles De Gaulle, Mikhail Sergeyevich Gorbachev, Nelson Mandela…. TIME’s salutation to You and me couldn’t have happened earlier; haven’t we bared our souls to this gigantic wired and wireless mass, dropped our fears and trepidations and danced our fingers on the keyboard to write and express our opinions, share joys and sorrows, rantings and ravings, picked up that video cam, shot and uploaded out work on You Tube and the like. We have made the Internet what it is and have got so much much more in return than we have given.

Image courtesy TIME magazine.

Launching my Book Reviews Blog

2006-12-18T13:36:00.000+05:30

Just launched my Book Reviews Blog (on blogger!). This blog had been in my mind for a long long time and finally it has seen the light of day. The sidebar has the link to the site and will open in a new window. I hope I am able to keep the momentum going on this and that's my biggest concern. Hope you guys enjoy reading!

Strike(ing) Politics…

2006-12-14T09:49:00.001+05:30

The state of West Bengal and its complex politics, at times, amplifies all that is wrong with politicians, trade unions and sections of the working class. A state that has been ruled by communists (sic) for more that three decades uses the might of the state machinery to bring life and business to a grinding halt during any strike (we call it ‘bandh’ here) call. It is possibly the only state in India, if not the world, where trade Unions that are a part of the ruling government can declare strikes at the drop of a hat. So what have you – a government in office shutting down work!
The issues on which strike calls are given is, at the best of times, blurred and fuzzy with grassroot cadres hardly able to articulate the reasons while they merrily go about enforcing the shutdown. India’s unorganized sector - constituting almost 90% of the working/business segment is among the worst hit and the communists, messiahs (sic) of social change and equality, don’t even figure on their radars daily wagers (of all hues) for whom every single day is a challenge to put bread on the table. Politics and politicians the world over, with maybe some stray exceptions, does not serve people’s interests! Their trip in life lies somewhere else – all the trappings of power and money! We sadly do not figure in that trip.

There is a silver lining though – some people standup and face off with the scrum. Today (12/14/06) is possibly the first time during a strike call, by militant trade unions in West Bengal, that the Chief Minister (the highest political authority in the state) has chosen to deploy a strong police force and armed escorts to vehicles ferrying people willing to work!

Unashamed Love – Pure and Simple!

2006-11-15T16:26:00.000+05:30

It's never too late to admit your love affairs or is it? I am in love will all things Google. My work day starts with google and ends (in most cases) with google. For me its Google Google all the way!

The guys out there are doing a fantastic job and kudos to them!

Debating the dealth penalty

2006-11-10T13:00:00.000+05:30

"To be or not to be, - that is the question…”
Hamlet (III, i, 56)

Death penalty – as the ultimate punishment, has been a raging debate in this country, fueled by the recent death penalty awards for two heinous crimes – attacking the ‘heart’ of Indian democracy and the brutal assault and murder of Priyadarshini Mattoo. Were the judges right is awarding the death sentence? Can’t comment on that, but then the judges handed down the stiffest sentences in the rulebooks and justifiably so!

The larger question here is – “Is the death penalty the only form of the strictest deterrent and punishment for the rarest of rare crimes?” To my mind no!, not because I believe in mush such as “if you can’t create life, you can’t take it” or “only God has the right to take life” etc etc but then the criminals, the lowest form of vermin, get away with so much less minus all terrible moments that their victims had to endure.

We got to change the rulebooks! The severest punishment for these vermin’s would be to throw them into solitary confinement. A cell with no natural light, no access to human faces, doesn’t get to hear human voices or any natural noises – only eerie silence, no TV, no radio, no newspaper, no magazines, no books, no nothing! Let them sit absolutely alone, and I really mean absolutely alone, and contemplate their deeds and their lives. Let them forget how the world looks! Take them out for 10 minutes on a varying frequency – once in 6 months, once in 8 months, once in a year or two! Nothing that the guy can look forward to.

To live and live like this! God!, the guy would barter it for death penalty any day! Then you know that they have faced their nemesis. Record what these guys have to say after 3 years of confinement and play that as the deterrent.

I guess its time we change the rulebooks!

"To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;"
Macbeth (V, v, 19)

Celebrating Diwali

2006-11-06T17:29:00.000+05:30

Have been extremely late in getting this post together, but then its 'better late than never'. Snaps from our second diwali in Kolkata. These are snaps from the fireworks that we lighted, which for me was after many many years!

Picture 1: Rocket ignited and ready to take off.

Picture 2: Rocket takes off leaving behind a fire trail.

Picture 3: Flower Pot...

Picture 4: Flower Pot ...

Picture 5: Spinner

The swagger of the powerful

2006-11-01T14:33:00.000+05:30

For those of you guys who have been following the Mattoo case, the sentencing of Sanjay Singh has come as a welcome development for a nation deeply skeptical of the political and executive will to punish the powerful accused of heinous crimes. While a lot has been written on how justice has prevailed after 10 long years and so on, the human side of the story hasn’t been given its due share.

To me the rot starts at the very top. J. P. Singh, Sanjay’s father is as much to blame, if not more, for the assault and murder of Priyadarshini Mattoo. From the so called educated gentry and an IPS (Indian Police Service, for those who don’t know) officer to boot Mr. Singh should have instilled the right values in his progeny but then he himself was arrogant, abusive and reveled in his own power. One should have seen Sanjay’s younger brother’s expression while threatening jurnos, covering the story, to believe the deep- seated arrogance and power syndrome of the Singh’s. Senior Singh broke every rule in the book and twisted all the government machinery handles to protect his murderer son – the most sickening of all things.

Sanjay’s one act, planned and premeditated, have in turn impacted so many lives that it is not funny. Priyadarshini’s parents were devastated, the most horrible kind of an experience for a parent to undergo but then that’s not all. Sanjay got married and had a child. I keep thinking of his wife and how an innocent life has to go through such a harrowing time for no fault of her’s and what to say of the child! The kid has been scarred for life. The man and his family were arrogant enough to devastate another set of family.

The death sentence, to my mind, is the easy way out for Sanjay. If I had my way I would have given him a no-parole solitary life sentence with no access to any humans, books and mags, visitation rights …..nothing! Sit alone and contemplate all your life. Reflect father and son and all you critters of the most horrible kind.

Nobel Peace Laureate Dr. Mohammad Yunus

2006-10-14T15:40:00.000+05:30

This year’s Nobel Peace Laureate Dr. Mohammad Yunus of Bangladesh is among the best possible recipients of the Nobel laurel. Pioneer of the micro credit financing scheme, he has played a role no less than possibly Mother Teresa’s in the lives of his countrymen and countless others around the world where the micro credit system has been put to practice.

85% of the educated world is populated with people who write tomes on economics, global warming, North Korea going nuclear and generally making a basket case of this world, 10% spend their lives waging war a.k.a. M/s Bush, Bin Laden etc. The balance 5% is what makes the world tick. It takes the likes of Dr Yunus to really go into the heart of pressing human problems and evolve truly unique solutions. Economic inequality, lack of access to education and religious narrow mindedness are the most potent causes of friction in society today. Dr. Yunus’s greatest contribution has been to craft uncluttered and practical 'on-the-ground' solutions, to help people escape the drudgery of poverty, based on the basic human principles of trust, honesty, and willingness to work hard.

The fact that women are the biggest beneficiaries of his schemes will ensure that generations to come will reap the benefit of his poverty eradication mission.

Congratulations Dr. Yunus!

My Ma's 3rd Anniversary

2006-10-04T14:08:00.000+05:30

It was on this day (according to the Hindu Calender), three years ago that I lost my Ma. It was so sudden that it was, as if, I was hit by a sledgehammer. I can still recall the day. I was in office when I got a call from Baba that Ma had to be hospitalised. I could think of nothing but on how to get on the next flight to Calcutta. I don't recall how I managed to get a ticket but I was travelling alone. When I reached home and started packing up I get a call from my brother telling me 'Ma is no more'. I just froze up! not a single drop of tear. I remember going to the Corporation Bank ATM to withdraw cash for a second air ticket for my wife. Flew into Calcutta, that was in the midst of a heavydown pour. As I write the images come up vividly in my mind's eye - my brother and Minku (brothers friend) were waiting outside the terminal. We just couldn't speak. Drove down towards home, brought cigarettes on the way (a 20's pack I remember). The downpour had been so heavy that we were water logged right upto our front gate. There was Ma, in the small front verandah, lying on the cot - as if sleeping. Someone had smeared sindur on her forehead. I just stared! My Pishimoni was there and I remember seeing my wife breakdown. I remember touching Ma, patting her hands, which I loved doing when she was alive.

Everything was in an automode for me. Took Ma to the crematorium atop a truck which we had to cover with a tarpulin due to the steady drizzle that was on. Remember laying down Ma, who had by now been transferred on a makeshift bamboo ladder (for the sake of a better expression), on the cold hard floor of the crematorium. I just can't explain what I went through when I saw this! The endless Q dosen't even spare the dead. Smoked I don't know how many cigarettes before her turn came. I saw the body for the last time being pushed into the electric chamber, and darkness for those left behind.

I remember Ma every single day of my life, more so when I pray before going to sleep. I still carry out the one act that she told me to to do before I go to sleep - write a virtual 'Ma' on the pillow using your fingers. You shall forever banish nightmares!

Also read my brothers remembrance of Ma in his blog. Click on the link below (Opens in a new window):
I Love My Mom

Ma was here

2006-10-03T11:05:00.000+05:30

We long for a year for the Durga Puga’s to come and how time flies when Ma is here. The five days of festivities are over and we are back to our normal routine. What starts out with the ‘Mahalaya’ when we usher in the Goddess to the accompaniment of devotional songs and Vedic Stotra chanting, culminates on Dashmi (the 10th day) when Durga returns to her husband’s place and we symbolically immerse the her idol as a farewell.

Our inseparable link with spirituality and God is best amplified during this season. Durga is welcomed home (earth being her fathers abode) as one welcomes one daughter and worshipped. A huge community expression of the human spirit. We are creative and bold and spendevent we get to bond not only with the God within ourselves but humanity. As an expression of joy or more appropriately ‘Ananda’ and a celebration of human life we spend time feasting, donning new clothes and giving myriad channels to our creativity. There is no place like Kolkata (Calcutta) to see this months planning for and executing the pujas. The saddest part is letting go. For 4 days when we have Ma in our midst we don’t keep a track of time but Dashmi soon looms large. We bid farewell to Ma as we would our loved ones and one has to feel the sadness to believe it.

Music forms an integral part of the celebrations and to my mind that is the best form of offering prayers – the channel that helps you to link up to God. Though ‘baithaks’ or musical congregations are drying up at the pandal level the television is proving to be a great platform. This time was no different and really enjoyed some of the shows that were on telly. The channels that should find special mention are ’24 Ghonta’ and ‘e-TV’. Both of these are regional Bengali satellite channels.

The images that you see in this post are from this year’s (2006) pujas. Hope you enjoy the stunning range of creativity.

Images courtsey - Debopriyo Kar

Ma is here

2006-09-27T17:15:00.000+05:30

Bengal's biggest festival, Durga Puja (worshipping of Goddess Durga), has kicked off from today. Goddess Durga, our mother, is here. As a manifestation of 'Shakti' she embodies the victory of good over evil.

Every festival that we Hindus celebrate has legends and stories woven around them and here Ma travels to earth, after defeating the demon - Mahishasura or Mahish the demon (asura). She is visiting her parents and is accompanied by her four children. The celebrations are spread across six days ('Panchami', 'Sasthi', 'Saptomi', 'Asthami', 'Nobomi' and 'Doshomi') and no Bengali, irrespective of where he stays, can't but feel the religious fervor in the air.

The festivities hide a deeper message where, the actual act of worshipping the Goddess is designed as a huge assimilation exercise. The puja rituals uses different kinds of plants, each with some therapeutic value, water from the sea and the holiest of holy rivers, the various natural foods that we eat and accompanied by music – the soul’s own language. (The Puja’s has its own distinctive drum style). The assimilation attempt, not only brings together all the elements but people of all castes together. It would also be important to note that the demon finds a place along with the Goddess, in the sanctum sanctorum. It goes to illustrate that, while ‘evil’ may not far from the ‘good’, it (evil) need not be despised but instead understood, won over and forgiven.

While we all get lost in the festivities – feasting, pandal hopping, staring at jaw dropping pandal designs, lighting arrangements etc we also need to go back to the original message – that God resides in all of us and we need to reconnect the wires that connect us to Him. In this fast paced world the Durga Pujas gives us that window of opportunity to move towards Spirituality – our ultimate goal and destiny and on a more mundane plane reflect on how we can recognize, understand and win over all negative emotions.

While I write all this, I wish I could reconnect and reflect. It’s so easy to get lost in the milieu.

The ‘Chandipur’ Travelogue – II

2006-09-15T19:03:00.000+05:30

Starting off from where I had left off in the last post, the next day also saw us at the beach – though not without its share of debate on whether we should go for a short trip to the Nilgiris and Panch Lingaeswar or keep that for Day 4. This time around saw me more prepared for the waves both in what I wore and how to keep my head over water, and I literally mean that! Needless to say we all had a whale of time splashing around in the sea for hours on end.

The afternoon was spent hunting for seashells. We collected a handful of nice shells while Jishnu’s wife (Rupa) displayed a real knack for hunting out great pieces of driftwood in stunning shapes. Evenings of Day 2 and Day 3 were spent drinking rum, gorging on fish and chicken snacks and playing tambola. Chandipur, by any standards is a sleepy, offbeat town and there is precious little that you can do to kill time in the evening. This time around (evening of Day 2) we decided to try out an eating joint outside our hotel. The hotel displayed a long strip of signage announcing its fare with almost everything spelt horribly wrong. It was hilarious and I really rue the fact that I did not take a snap of that board. The food though did not reflect the owner’s English spelling ability and our taste buds were not disappointed with the outcome!

Day 4 was reserved for going around to the Nilgiris, then to Panch Lingaeswar and finally land up direct to the train station. Panch means five and Lingaeswar stands for the Shiv Linga. As we later learnt it was no temple but five naturally formed Shiv Linga’s, to be reached under a waterfall. We had hired a Tata Sumo (a ATV Cab) the previous evening and the driver dutifully reported at the hotel, sharp at 10:30 or so. Loaded our entire luggage and were off. The first stop was at an estuary that connected to the sea. The other bank of the estuary was the forest (sic) where Bagha Jatin (a freedom fighter) had shot a British Officer. Also saw loads of fishing trawlers and the all pervading shrimp/prawn farms.

The road to Panch Lingaeswar is a nightmare and more like short patches of road amidst a long long stretches of, sometimes crater like, potholes. I have never had such a bone-jarring journey ever and it was a pleasure to get off and stretch my femurs (sic). I must admit though that the view made up hugely for all the rattle that we had to endure. Vehicles disgorge their passengers some considerable distance from the Panch Lingaeswar site and you got to walk a good distance to reach the site. Interestingly a dog – we had named him ‘Dharamraj’ after the dog that had followed Yudhisthir, the eldest of the Pandavas, to heaven – escorted us all the way to the temple site and back. Panch Lingaeswar, to me atleast, was a disappointment since I had expected a temple to be there!

The journey back to Kolkata was an enjoyable challenge. We had waitlisted tickets on us and these did not get confirmed. We pushed and shoved our way into a general (non reserved) bogey. Had to beg, borrow and almost snidely steal seats for the ladies and children. Ended up standing all the way to Kharagpur before we landed up with (wew!) seats.

Enjoy the pics!

The ‘Chandipur’ Travelogue

2006-08-31T11:30:00.000+05:30

This post and maybe the subsequent post would be about my quick getaway to Chandipur, made famous by ISRO (our interim missile test range is there). This holiday came after almost 3 years and was a welcome break from the maddening work schedule. This was also the first time my wife and me got to travel with my office colleagues, since we had relocated to Kolkata. We were four families in all, Jishnu, his wife and two kids, Sumanto and Basetti along with their wives and daughters. We were 12 members in all and that, in my reckoning, is not a bad party size!

We left Kolkata (Howrah) early in the morning of 12 August by the Falaknama Express. We were enroute to Balasore, a small sleepy town in Orissa, from where Chandipur is a 30-minute drive. We had already booked our hotel accommodations before leaving Kolkata and saved ourselves the pain of hunting for suitable staying places! It was drizzling when we alighted at Balasore and with Jishnu not keeping well we had to pay the coolies literally through our noses to cart all the luggage that got shipped along with us. Jishnu took the cake when it came to luggage. He had managed to cart one large suitcase, two big side bags and two small bags. Basetti bagged the leanest traveler award with only one suitcase. The steady drizzle did not help matters since we had to haggle with the taxi drivers for a solid 20 minutes before we could arrive at the most ‘amicable’ price to drive us down to Chandipur.

The road connecting Balasore and Chandipur is fairly good, thanks to ISRO, and scenic. Feasted my eyes on the earthly rural view of farmers busy planting the ‘ravi’ crop. By the way saw a number of shrimp farms, for the first time in my life. Checking into the hotel was a breeze and in no time we were in our rooms sipping good hot tea. A quick shower and lunch (totally veg, since Sumanto had this weird idea that after so much of traveling we couldn’t stomach non-veg stuff) later we all plonked for a leisurely siesta. It had got somewhat dark by the time we got up. We decided to take it easy in the evening and walk up to the beach and hear the waves. Imagine our shock when we landed there and found that the sea was nowhere to be found and the vast expanse of the beach staring at us. We were terribly dejected, specially my wife since this was her maiden visit to a beach front. We decided to return in the morning.

Chandipur is a one-street town and I have rechristened the street as ‘Souvenir Street’. Expect for a string of souvenir shops selling sea shell based trinkets and marble carvings there is a rickety doctor’s clinic – walls pasted with posters of the human anatomy, a restaurant, a couple of cigarette shops and tea stalls. We walked up and down the ‘Souvenir Street’, got bored and landed up in the hotel for some drinks.

The guy who served us at the hotel enlightened us on the mystery of the ‘beach without the sea’. Chandipur is perhaps the only beach in the world where the sea resides upto 5 kms twice a day. We were advised to hit the beach at 9:30 – 10:00 am in the morning if we were to enjoy the sea!

The next day we dutifully landed up at the beach at around 10:30 and lo and behold the waves were lapping right upto the edge of the barren expanse that we had seen yesterday. We all eagerly jumped into the sea, me with my jeans et all. Had a splash of a lifetime and felt getting drowned by the waves a number of times.

More to come in the next post......

Successful Migration to Version 2.0

2006-08-25T12:12:00.000+05:30

Have been able to successfully migrate to version 2.0 of my blog. This is the spanking new blog! The change over was seemless and extremely painless and I have been able to get all the third party functionality

Cheers to the google team for the new version of Blogger. It's just great. Keep up the good work guys.

The Lord must have wept....

2006-08-21T19:10:00.000+05:30

Ustad Bismillah Khan saheb is no more. With his passing away we have lost a doyen of Indian Classical music. Ustad Bismillah Khan was single handedly responsible for giving the shehnai the pride of place it enjoys today. He brouught the instrument out from the marriage halls to the rarified heights of the classical music stage. A typical Banarasi – his language, courtesy, simplicity and straight forwardness were legendary. A story goes - narrated by Khan saheb himself - that a certain rich American gentleman once requested him to migrate to the US. To that Khan saheb remarked, "When I am out of the country (India), I see its image wherever I go and when I am in any city in India (Mumbai, Chennai etc) I see images of Benaras. Can you Sir replicate Benaras for me here, with the Ganges, Shivalas and temples. If you can't then I shall have to go back". A deeply religious man who read his namaz 5 times a day, irrespective of where he was, was once asked by Pandit Jasraj what he thought about missing his namaz when he was in the midst of a long recital, replied "Woh hi to asli namaz hai jo Allah kubool karte hai" i.e, "my music is the only prayer that is really accepted by the Lord". There are so many anecdotes about the man that I can't resist putting them down. Once at a musical function Pandit Jasraj was slotted to perform after Ustadji, to which he felt very guilty (in a typical classical music function the juniors are followed by the seniors and a hierarchy is maintained). When Panditji complained to Khan Saheb that the organisers had really goofed up (by scheduling him after the mestro), Khan Saheb told him, and I translate, " Beta (son), the organisers are God's own people and they follow the Lord's dictat (firman) and it is His wish that you perform after me, so why are you feeling bad! Just be yourself and sing".

Khan saheb also, sadly, stands testimony to the apathy we Indians can show to our truly legendary masters. Save for the last minute dash of a Rs. 2.5 lakhs cheque that the PM sent across, the great master lived in penury. At times I wonder if we, as a nation, deserve to have such stalwarts among us. What have we been able to give to such men? Had he been born in US or Europe he would have been able to live a much more comfortable life but then, on second thoughts, there is ‘life’ in India.

Lets us spend a few moments from our busy lives remembering the great master and wish for his blessings.

Manu - the lawgiver

2006-07-21T11:34:00.000+05:30

Of the limited number of flicks that I see, there are some that catches my imagination by the vivid portrayal of the social milieu, mostly as a period story with deep connections to today's contemporary Indian society. A film can either be viewed as a simple story well narrated or as a larger message hidden within the story. Two flicks that I recently saw had, surprisingly, juxtapositioned how Indian society viewed its women. ‘Antarmahal’ – a view of the Inner Chamber or, to me, an intimate view of the sanctum sanatorium of marriage. This period portrays the twin lives of the wives of a zamindar’s harem. Directed by Rituporno Ghosh, this perhaps is among the best Bengali movies that he has directed. The second film – ‘Water’ – directed by Deepa Mehta is also a period film depicting the life of widows in India.

Both the directors wouldn’t have met over a cup of coffee and discussed their films but it is pure serendipity that I watched these 2 films back to back. Antarmahal shows how a Zamindar remarried again since he failed to beget a child with his first wife and the intertwined lives of his wives. The zamindar, as a typical all powerful male, refuses to believe that he is impotent and not his wives. The belief, that a male can’t be impotent, peaks to such levels of absurdity that he gets a Brahmin to chant Vedic verses while he makes love to his wife, not once or twice but everyday. It is so easy, in today’s context, to replace the zamindar with a typical Indian male. You would see the same thought process and the same haughtiness. The zamindar also had a concubine, needless to say childless again. When the zamindar’s second wife quizzes him on why does he have a different eau-de-cologne on then what he had in the morning, pat comes the reply “A man from a rich family is expected to have a different eau-de-cologne on when he returns home in the evening!”

‘Water’ exposes the soft underbelly of Indian society exposing its sycophancy in dealing with widows. Indian widows, as a tradition, are supposed to shave their heads, don a plain cotton white saree, sustain on a strictly vegetarian diet and keep off fried food! Child marriages was rampant (in fact the norm!) right upto the early 19^th century and you had child widows who had never met their husbands except the day that they got married. So what does the child bride remember about the marriage? The feast, the guests crowding in, the bright and colorful dress, and all the pampering! One stoke of fate turns a bright, bubbly child into a widow, plucked from her home, her parents and siblings and literally dumped in one of the teeming ‘Ashrams’ meant for widows either in Benaras (Varanasi) or Vrindavan! So what happened in the ashram? The less told the better. The widows were peddled to satisfy the whims and fancies of the landed gentry and high profile Brahmins. And what does one of the Brahmins have to say on this, “A widow is blessed when she makes love to a Brahmin!”

So does contemporary India continue to have these practices? Yes and No. India lives in multiple worlds and periods. The rural areas still practice child marriages. City dwellers are more enlightened though the strictures for a widow is still followed, excepting the shaving of the head. Do the men follow the same rules when they are bereaved from their wives? NO.

That also brings us to the title of this post. Manu, a revered sage of ancient India, was and is regarded as a lawgiver par excellence of both ancient and modern India. While he would have framed his laws in keeping with the times and social environment when he was alive, his laws were twisted and interpreted to suit males, Brahmins, the Kashtriyas…. in that order. Some gems from Manu to illustrate what I mean.

By a girl, by a young woman, or even by an aged one, nothing must be done independently, even in her own house. [v.5.147.]

In childhood a female must be subject to her father, in youth to her husband, when her lord is dead to her sons; a woman must never be independent. [v.5.148.]

Though destitute of virtue, or seeking pleasure (elsewhere), or devoid of good qualities, (yet) a husband must be constantly worshipped as a god by a faithful wife. [v.5.154.]

A man who is not a Brahmana ought to suffer death for adultery (samgrahana); for the wives of all the four castes even must always be carefully guarded. [v.8.359.]

Let him never slay a Brahmana, though he have committed all (possible) crimes; let him banish such an (offender), leaving all his property (to him) and (his body) unhurt. [v.8.380.]

Though I am also guilty of picking selective verses that illustrate my views and not some of the really good laws my contention is on how ancient laws, or for that matter any law, is twisted to serve individual or group interests.

No Uploads!

2006-06-26T13:36:00.000+05:30

It looks highly unlikely if there are gonna be any uploads for sometime to come. Got so swamped in work that it's stopped being funny!

Missing PKG

2006-04-11T10:25:00.000+05:30

Prabir Kumar Ghosh - PKG - for all of us who knew him well passed away, suddenly, on 9th April, 2006. PKG was the Director and COO at Globsyn Technologies and I met him first when I came to visit Globsyn during a phase of my life that was in doldrums. An extremely down to earth person, he made friends with one and all and I have rarely seen him being angry. His passing away so suddenly, without any warning, is still not registering in our minds. It was a little over a year that I knew him and had the good fortune of working closely with him but it seemed we knew each other since time unknown. The language of the soul supercedes all natural, worldly communication and those were the invisible strings that bound us. This is all in hindsight though the pain and anguish is of this world. Small things hurt more - his style of smoking, his gait, his wallet filled with more paper than cash, the comb sticking out of his pocket (at times) come as fleeting visions in the mind's eye. His style of talking was also uniquely his which coupled with his networking skills made people feel at home and ready to work with him. There is so much to write - his style of ferreting out information was his own. The first few things that he would ask , in Bengali, when he met you were “Aar ke korcho?” (‘and what are you doing?’), or simply “ki korcho?” (what are you doing/are you doing something!); there was no way you could wriggle out of it and had to answer something. The best part was his fillers, “aar” (what more/and/and then), “ke hobe!” (what will we do/what will happen).

It is only a noble, spotless, soul that passes into the other world with such effortless ease. He was hospitalized on a Saturday (8th Apr 06) and passed away on Sunday (9th Apr 06) in the morning. We miss you terribly Prabir da, and it is so difficult to come to terms with the loss.

---------------------Memories---------------------

Jishnu

Prabir-da! How do you write about a person with whom you spend six hours a day - every day, every week, every month. Literally, because either he would call me to his room or park himself in front of my table.

The last time he did so was on Friday afternoon, a day before he was taken ill. I had to send an internal mail intimating all about a Wipro batch that was starting the next day. Every time I started writing the mail, I was called in some meeting or the other or someone would come to meet me or there would be a telephone call. This went on for more than two hours. Prabirda then walked up to my room and asked the usual “ki korcho”. I said, “Prabirda, I am unable to send this mail out for the last two hours. So please do not talk to me for the next ten minutes till I am done.” He said, “Ok, let me sit right in front of you and I won’t let anyone disturb you.” How I wish he would talk to me now!

He would start every morning immediately after stepping into the office by saying “Ki korcho? Ekto aashbe?” Then we would get into a discussion of the immediate concerns and then all things we as a company must do. If something personal was bothering him, he would talk about it. “Aar ki hobe” was his way of developing and pushing us to think through a problem and come out with answers.

He was a master operations man. Nothing would rattle him. We would get so worked up if there was an issue to serve a customer and would barge into his room to complain. PKG would listen calmly and work out a solution like magic. If he was particularly pleased with himself, he would say “experiencer ekta daam ache to, bujhle? Iyarki hocche?”

Lessons to be learnt from him is his ability to stay calm, handle pressure, think in a mature way and fierce loyalty to the company.

I could go on and on and on. The memories are too many, too fresh. He had changed his car about a month ago and was very pleased about the deal of getting two cars with hardly any extra payout. Before he decided on either of the cars, he would call me and say “Jishnu, ekto chaliye dekho to theek ache kina.”

He loved to entertain. There are so many times we have gathered at his house for a drink. A few Globsynites gathered at my house a few months ago. PKG sat with me to fix the menu, budget and all other arrangements. It was his party, just that the venue was not his house. He was the last to leave helping me to clean up the house. His wife, our beloved Boudi, kept on yawning but knowing her husband, she kept on waiting patiently till PKG had finished his supervision. He missed throwing these parties at his house and had discussed with me just over a week ago about making several small groups and inviting them over.

It is eerie to come to the office and not seeing him either at his desk or at the cafetaria. Every step I am taking for the last two days, I can see him, hear him, talk to him.

Farewell, Prabirda. Farewell an elder brother, a guide, a boss – who was more like a friend.

--------------------------
Sudipto

on 30th of March me and PKG went to Delhi for AICTE hearing. Whole of the day we were along. I can't forget the responsibility he has taken before the hearing committee. We have discussed a lot about our future plan of action on the matter by standing in the Indira Gandhi Stadium Compound. We also have planned to go to Delhi again in the middle of April. But..... I will not get him any more by my side. But he will always be with us in our every work. I will also miss him at the Board Room . The Board will surely miss the charming personality of PKG. We will all miss you sir.

------------------
Arijit

I got the sad news on Sunday morning. I was very shocked to hear that.

I am thankful that I got the opportunity to work very closely with him in my professional career. I shall never forget the support that I have received from PKG as the Quality Management Representative (QMR).

We all pray to God "May His soul rest in peace".

I believe that the Almighty will give all of us the courage to overcome the shock and take forward the dreams of PKG for "GLOBSYN".

PKGs' memories will be forever with us.

-------------

The 'Inner Voice' - again!

2006-03-24T09:12:00.000+05:30

The fabled 'Inner Voice' has sounded again! I am amazed at the sense of timing of the inner voice. Sonia's much belated resignation, both as a MP and chairperson of NAC, well after the parliament was adjourned sine die just to facilitate the ordinance that would have defined 'offices of profit' or rather struck out 'offices' that our honoured politicians hold from the offices of profit list!

Goes a long way to illustrate how meticulously planned the voicing of the ‘inner voice’ is and the martyring of our politicians. Wait and see the drooling Congressmen fall over each other to fawn and pray before Martyr Gandhi – the tallest ‘politician’ in the horizon – voiced by, none other than, the economist PM himself.

Read my other blog on the subject that I had written way back when Sonia’s ‘inner voice’ was heard for the first time while refusing to be the PM!

A Hindi Flick after a long time....

2006-03-02T17:53:00.000+05:30

I went to a Hindi flick after a long time and that too after a great deal of selling of 'Rang De Basanti' - RDB for short - by my bro. I don't watch Hindi flicks and have to really jog my memory to recall the last Hindi flim that I viewed. RDB was refreshingly different though. Every thing, starting from the story line to Amir's acting, to the choice of his co-stars, shooting et all was great and so different from the run of the mill Hindi flicks. One point though; the ending could have been less gory to fully complete the cycle of happiness. Here's a couple of shots from the flick!

Layman's musing on the Budget ('06 - '07)

2006-02-28T18:31:00.000+05:30

Seems to be a 40:30:30 budget; some good, some bad, some I simply can't understand.

1. Excise Duty Hike on Cigarettes: Good; maybe will convince me to stop smoking. Bad; Increase the burn hole in my pocket.

2. Service Tax rate hike: Bad; both on the personal front as well for the firm that I work for. Got to pay more for services.

3. Duty cut on small cars: Good; Maruti and Hyundai have dropped their prices already. Anyway, was planning for a small car!

4. Short Term Transaction Tax: Simply can't understand. Does it affect MF investments?

5. Duty cut on aerated drinks: Good; Summer's made more bearable. Bad; Deeper into the 'fast food' mud. Swadeshi Jagaran Manch has more stuff to munch on!

6. No changes in Income Tax Rate: Good; Status-quo maintained. Bad; Status-quo maintained, could have been lowered.

7. Duty increase in Comps: Bad; Will cost more and slow (?) growth of
the already margin squeezed H/w market.

8. Duty abolished branded food: Good. Chomp along.

9. Duty cut Vital drugs: Good; some AIDS drugs will be cheaper.

10. Peak Customs Duty Cut: Good?? Bad??

11. FBT cut on business conveyance: Good; For the firm that is!

12. Duty Exemption on DVD Drives, storage media: Good; Flash drives and the like will be cheaper. Goody good news.

13. Infrastructure: Some good news. Should give a lift up to the core economy sectors.

14. Power: Seems good, got to measure against performance though!

15. Rural Thrust: Congress trying to avoid the NDA pitfall but as Rajiv Gandhi famously said only 10 paisa of 1 Rupee reaches the benefactors.

16. 1/6 rule good: Good, but is that so!

Happiness of an Idiot

2006-02-23T15:18:00.000+05:30

There are idiotic people and there are idiotic people, but none surpasses President Bush.

Iraq - a nation that was moving along - one way of the other - has now been fully destroyed by an idiot and another set of zealots and hate mongers are taking advantage of the situation!

The blowing up of the Shia Mosque has all the elements of spinning Iraq into a long and protracted Civil War.

The original Mosque with the gleaming dome.

The mosque as it stands now.

First Pictures - Silchar Trip

2006-02-13T18:10:00.000+05:30

These are the first trip from my recent Silchar trip (5 - 11 February '06). More pictures to follow shortly!

The Marriage 'Kunjo'. The is where the Bride and Bridegroom take the '7 Pheras'.

The Floral Design of the Kunjo. Handdrawn and awesome!

This is where my 'Boro Mamu' (Uncle - Mother's brother!) freaked out. Went out every day to have sweets and got a bad tummy ache on the last day! This is also the place where my Dad used to frequent with his friends during the college days!

Scenic beauty! enroute to Shillong.

This truck's steering column gave way on its way up and that to on a bend! Held us up for over an hour on the highway.

Indian Team's Morale

2006-02-01T19:12:00.000+05:30

The Indian team's morale exemplified by Sachin Tendulkar! Need we say more.....

Phat Gaye Kaya!

All Images courtesy AFP (the copyright belongs to them!)

Happy Birthday Narendra

2006-01-16T18:31:00.000+05:30

12th January was the Birthday of Narendra -- Swami Vivekananda -- How apt a name for someone who cannot be described in mere words! Narendra means the 'King' of men; 'Nara' means human being and 'Indra' is the king of Gods!

Happy Birthday and Salutations!

Jungle mei Bhalu, samosa mei Alu aur Bihar mei Lalu

2005-11-23T18:47:00.000+05:30

The elections in Bihar are finally over and the mighty have been vanquished. Bihar, for all those who do not know, is the most backward state in India. Lawlessness and corruption are at unheard of levels there and the poverty of the people is appalling.

Lalu Prasad Yadav came to be epitomized as everything that was wrong about the state. His famous comment 'Jungle mei Bhalu, samosa mei Alu aur Bihar mei Lalu' has finally come undone. His successor has an unenviable task ahead of him. With a near bankrupt exchequer, a corrupt and demoralized bureaucracy and a non-existent State machinery, it is going to be a long road ahead for Nitish Kumar, the incumbent Chief Minister.

The upside for Nitish is also huge. If he were to raise himself above petty politics and prove to be an able administrator, ancient India’s bowl of wisdom can hopefully limp back to seeing better days and the epithet ‘Bihari’ would slowly lose its sheen!

(Photo courtsey 'Indiatimes.com' & 'Rediff.com')

An Ode to Calcutta Pujo - Vir Sanghvi

2005-11-17T10:36:00.000+05:30

Most modern Indian cities strive to rise above ethnicity. Tell anybody who lives in Bombay that he lives in a Maharashtrian city and (unless of course, you are speaking to Bal Thackeray) he will take immediate offence. We are cosmopolitan, he will say indigenously. Tell a Delhiwalla that his is a Punjabi city (which, in many ways, it is) and he will respond with much self-righteous nonsense about being the nation's capital, about the international composition of the city's elite etc. And tell a Bangalorean that he lives in a Kannadiga city and you'll get lots of techno-gaff about the internet revolution and about how Bangalore is even more
cosmopolitan than Bombay.

But, the only way to understand what Calcutta is about is recognize that the city is essentially Bengali. What's more, no Bengali minds you saying that. Rather, he is proud of the fact. Calcutta's strengths and weaknesses mirror those of the Bengali character. It has the drawbacks: the sudden passions, the cheerful chaos, the utter contempt for mere commerce, the fiery response to the smallest provocation. And it has the strengths (actually, I think of the drawbacks as strengths in their own way). Calcutta embodies the Bengali love of culture; the triumph ofintellectualism over greed; the complete transparency of all emotions, the disdain with which hypocrisy and insincerity are treated; the warmth of genuine humanity; and the supremacy of emotion over all other aspects of human existence.

That's why Calcutta is not for everyone. You want your cities clean and green; stick to Delhi. You want your cities, rich and impersonal; go to Bombay. You want them high-tech and full of draught beer; Bangalore's your place. But if you want a city with a soul: come to Calcutta.

When I look back on the years I've spent in Calcutta - and I come back so many times each year that I often feel I've never been away - I don't remember the things that people remember about cities. When I think of London, I think of the vast open spaces of Hyde Park. When I think of New York, I think of the frenzy of Times Square. When I think of Tokyo, I think of the bright lights of Shinjiku. And when I think of Paris, I think of the Champs Elysee. But when I think of Calcutta, I never think of any one place. I don't focus on the greenery of the maidan, the beauty of the Victoria Memorial, the bustle of Burra Bazaror the splendour of the
new Howrah 'Bridge'. I think of people. Because, finally, a city is more than bricks and mortars, street lights and tarred roads. A city is the sum of its people. And who can ever forget or replicate - the people of Calcutta?

When I first came to live here, I was told that the city would grow on me. What nobody told me was that the city would change my life. It was in Calcutta that I learnt about true warmth; about simple human decency; about love and friendship; about emotions and caring; about truth and honesty. I learnt other things too. Coming from Bombay as I did, it was a revelation to live in a city where people judged each other on the things that really mattered; where they recognized that being rich did not make you a better person - in fact, it might have the opposite effect. I learnt also that if life is about more than just money, it is about the things that other cities ignore; about culture, about ideas, about art, and about passion.

In Bombay, a man with a relatively low income will salt some of it away for the day when he gets a stock market tip. In Calcutta, a man with exactly the same income will not know the difference between a debenture and a dividend. But he will spend his money on the things that matter. Each morning, he will read at least two newspapers and develop sharply etched views on the state of the world. Each evening, there will be fresh (ideally, fresh-water or river) fish on his table. His children will be encouraged to learn to dance or sing. His family will appreciate the power of poetry. And for him, religion and culture will be in inextricably bound together.

Ah religion! Tell outsiders about the importance of Puja in Calcutta and they'll scoff. Don't be silly, they'll say. Puja is a religious festival. And Bengal has voted for the CPM since 1977. How can godless Bengal be so hung up on a religions festival? I never know how to explain them that to a Bengali, religion consists of much more than shouting Jai Shri Ram or pulling down somebody's mosque. It has little to do with meaningless ritual or sinister political activity.

The essence of Puja is that all the passions of Bengal converge: emotion, culture, the love of life, the warmth of being together, the joy of celebration, the pride in artistic _expression and yes, the cult of the goddess. It may be about religion. But is about much more than just worship. In which other part of India would small, not particularly well-off localities, vie with each other to produce the best pandals? Where else could puja pandals go beyond religion to draw inspiration from everything else? In the years I lived in Calcutta, the pandals featured Amitabh Bachchan, Princes Diana and even Saddam Hussain! Where else would children cry with the sheer emotional power of Dashimi, upset that the Goddess had left their homes? Where else would the whole city gooseflesh when the dhakis first begin to beat their drums? Which other Indian festival - in any part of the country - is so much about food, about going from one roadside stall to another, following your nose as it trails the smells of cooking?

To understand Puja, you must understand Calcutta. And to understand Calcutta, you must understand the Bengali. It's not easy. Certainly, you can't do it till you come and live here, till you let Calcutta suffuse your being, invade your bloodstream and steal your soul. But once you have, you'll love Calcutta forever. Wherever you go, a bit of Calcutta will go with you. I know, because it's happened to me. And every Puja, I am overcome by the magic of Bengal. It's a feeling that'll never go away.

La Figlia Che Piange (T. S. Eliot)

2005-11-11T13:58:00.000+05:30

The second in the series of poems by T S Eliot that I am posting. Again among one of my own personal favourites.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

La Figlia Che Piange
T. S. Eliot

Stand on the highest pavement of the stair--
Lean on a garden urn--
Weave, weave the sunlight in your hair--
Clasp your flowers to you with a pained surprise--
Fling them to the ground and turn
With a fugitive resentment in your eyes:
But weave, weave the sunlight in your hair.

So I would have had him leave,
So I would have had her stand and grieve,
So he would have left
As the soul leaves the body torn and bruised
As the mind deserts the body it has used.
I should find
Some way incomparably light and deft,
Some way we both should understand,
Simple and faithless as a smile and shake of the hand.

She turned away, but with the autumn weather
Compelled my imagination many days,
Many days and many hours:
Her hair over her arms and her arms full of flowers.
And I wonder how they should have been together!
I should have lost a gesture and a pose.
Sometimes these cogitations still amaze
The troubled midnight and the noon’s repose.

The Love Song of Alfred J Prufrock.....

2005-11-09T13:24:00.000+05:30

T S Eliot is among my most favourite poets. I would be uploading on my blog some of his best poems that I personally love! The Love Song of Alfred J Prufrock is the first among the series. With T S Eliot you got to read his poems over and over again, and with each new reading you discover a new meaning... a stanza that stands out...the masterful weaving of words...is short just cool!

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The Love Song of Alfred J Prufrock (T S Eliot)

S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.

Let us go then,
You and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question ...
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

For I have known them all already, known them all:
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.

So how should I presume?
And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?
And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
(But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!)
Is it perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? ...
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep ... tired ... or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all;
That is not it, at all.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?--
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old ... I grow old ...
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

Different forms of the Goddess.......

2005-11-07T11:06:00.000+05:30

The festive season is all but over for this year and we are all getting ready for the coming year. This was our first puja, after relocating to Kolkata. The puja's at Kolkata are unlike any other puja's in this land. I have been privy to watching Puja's in Shillong, Varanasi and Delhi and the pujas at Kolkata take the cake! There are 3 things, atleast to my mind, that makes the Kolkata pujas what they are; a) The crowds, boy! you got to hand the cake to the bongs for their propensity to crowd into even the smallest of small pujas. B) Artistic sense & creativity - starting from the pandals to the 'Protima' (idol) to the lighting - everything oozes creativity, c) Rolls! Unlike other places, the food that is available at almost all the pandals swings between rolls, chowmein and jhal muri/bhelpuri (made with puffed rice!). The lack of choices for puja food at the pandals is plain frustrating! The only way to access good grub is to go into a restaurant which is not anywhere near the pandals!

Some of Kolkata creativity here...! Enjoy!!

Where are we headed to????

2005-09-15T18:33:00.000+05:30

That's what we are hurtling towards....

Africa or the US of A

2005-09-05T16:23:00.001+05:30

Spot the difference! Is this shot from Africa or the United States.

Nature - the greatest leveller of all does not distinguish between the rich and poor, the 'haves' and the 'have-nots'. At the end of the day we are all humans! We may try to be different, and put all our energies to achieve that aim but nature has a way of showing where we all come from and the universality of suffering.

(Photograph Courtsey and Copyright: Willie J Allen/AP)

OM - the root of all words

2005-09-01T09:14:00.000+05:30

The most sacred symbol in Hindu dharma. OM (Aum) is the sound of the infinite. Aum is said to be the essence of all mantras, the highest of all matras or di vine word (shabda), brahman (ultimate reality) itself. Aum is said to be the essence of the Vedas.

The three portions of AUM relate to the states of waking, dream and deep sleep and the three gunas (tamas, rajas, satva)

The lovliest explanation of OM is found within the ancient Vedic and Sanskrit traditions. One can read about OM in the Manduka Upanishad, which explains the four elements of AUM as an allegory of the four planes of consciousness.

"A" (pronounced "AH" as in "father") resonates in the center of the mouth. It represents normal waking consciousness, in which subject and object exist as separate entities. This is the level of mechanics, science, logical reason, the lower three chakras. Matter exists on a gross level, is stable and slow to change.

Then the sound "U" (pronounced as in "who") transfers the sense of vibration to the back of the mouth, and shifts the allegory to the level of dream consciousness. Here, object and subject become intertwined in awareness. Both are contained within us. Matter becomes subtle, more fluid, rapidly changing. This is the realm of dreams, divinities, imagination, the inner world.

"M" is the third element, humming with lips gently closed. This sound resonates forward in the mouth and buzzes throughout the head. (Try it!) This sound represents the realm of deep, dreamless sleep. There is neither observing subject nor observed object. All are one, and nothing. Only pure consciousness exists, unseen, pristine, latent, covered with darkness. This is the cosmic night, the interval between cycles of creation, the womb of the divine Mother.

The Gang reassembles .... bit by bit

2005-08-25T15:27:00.000+05:30

The school gang. Part of my project to trace the St John's school gang that I hung out with. The gang members - Sumit Samant, Sudeb Dasgupta, Amit Bose, me, Rubella Sanyal and Chandrima Sanyal. I been able to locate Sudeb and Rubella. Re-established links with Sudeb, Amit and dropped Rubella a mail. Hope she responds! (Latest Update (8/26): Hit pay dirt! Rubella has responded and you should see my smile!)

Rubella (Sanyal) Goswami, Sudeb Dasgupta

Rubella is currently a postdoctoral research scientist at Simon Fraser University in Burnaby, British Columbia. Sudeb has a PhD in Electronics from IT-BHU and is now an Asst. Professor in the Department of Electronics Engineering at Indian School of Mines, Dhanbad.

Psst..I hope you guys don't mind my putting up your snaps. Let me know if you want them to be pulled down!

@ Simla

2005-08-10T15:25:00.000+05:30

Me and Mithu

Snap from our Simla trip. This was taken during our return journey. Will upload more snaps as and when I get the time.

Cheers!

Da Vinci Code

2005-06-02T14:08:00.000+05:30

One of the reasons that the Da Vinci Code has been so hugely successful, apart from a sense of mystery and intrigue, to my mind, is the innate wish of any human being to find GOD. The data that has been used as the premise for the book may be right or wrong but that's not the issue
For some the urge to find God and a deeper meaning to life is strong enough to lead an intensely spiritual life. For others the urge lies suppressed beneath the busy lives that we live. A book like the Da Vinci Code opens that little window in us through which we try and search for answers. We are reading and constantly challenging our own notions and what we have been taught on religion, God etc etc, irrespective of the religion. Christians will feel more strongly since it is their religion that is being discussed here. Why is then there such a strong and passionate debate on the book?
As a Hindu I find it easier to attempt to understand the reason. I am God and He is me - that's the essence of what our religion teaches, and is the principle premise of our religion. Blasphemous thought some would say! It is extremely difficult to understand this concept. If I am God than who is God? If I am the perfect ONE why would I then need GOD? Questions like these and a host of others will come to your mind. We cannot imagine a God who is like us. We cannot bring Him down to the human plane and still see Him as God. Our definition of God is different! God has his own abode, a place much higher than the human plane and someone whom we look up to. That’s the reason for the passionate debate! We debate for our notion of God! We disagree and write texts that show how Mr. Brown has been wrong in his data. Those who accept the book do not necessarily accept the data but can somehow inwardly relate to God on a human plane. For others the very notion of God on a human plane is abhorrent and they strive to put Him on a plane that is higher than us, a place that is rightfully His. This debate takes many tones – religion, facts, history etc, but each comes back to the very heart of the debate – Our definition of God!

Sri Aurobindo - a snippet ..

2005-04-08T13:39:00.000+05:30

Sri Aurobindo
Originally uploaded by Antu.

"The earliest formula of Wisdom promises to be its last, - God, Light, Freedom, Immortality."

- Sri

I simply call Him Sri. The greatness of the man is simply Wow! A super-soul, not to be expressed in words. In any case I find words to be inadequate to even try and express Sri

Busy Day...

2005-04-07T18:54:00.000+05:30

Had a hectic and up-to-the-neck busy day. Its 7:00 PM India time and am waiting for my boss to come back. He's out visiting an uncle of his who has had to be hospitalised. This guy is going thru a rough patch! Me thought why not try and key in a few lines in the breather that I have got. Want to go out and steal a smoke too but writing, ah! that's my first love. Got a load of work out of my way but with the pending work getting postponed the s**t is going to hit the fan soon! The infernal mailbox has again crackled to life and I better get going, first my smoke then the rest.

Change of Scene

2005-04-06T16:43:00.000+05:30

Has been ages since I have last used my blog and a lot of water (gallons in fact!) has flowed under the bridge since then. I have had a big change of scene and have transplanted myself in a new city - Kolkata. I am no longer a Delhiete (How do u spell the stuff?) and long live the King! Phew! What a breath of fresh air. Somewhere from the middle of last year I got extremely disenchanted with Delhi - the people, the traffic, my neighbors - the whole freaking lot! To top it all working along with Kiran (someday I gonna write about it!) really took me off the hinghes. Such a lot of missed opportunities to really build a good, classy technology and consulting organisation. Yes! I will write about that also.

Coming to Kolkata was a pure chance. When I last visited my Dad during my mother's first 'back-to-home' (I had lost her last year right after the Durga Pujas) anniversary we were discussing how nice it would be if we could all live together. Back to Delhi I don't know what (maybe Ma!) made me ring up Jishnu, and lo and behold! I find the guy landed in Kolkata! My CV gets mailed, I get interviewed and land a job in the same organisation where Jishnu works.

Packing up was in a real frenzy. Shifted out of Delhi lock, stock and barrel in flat 10 days. Just ran out of there. I am enjoying staying with my Dad and small bro after 14 long years, Yeah! similar to Lord Rama's 'banabash'.

Immortal Politicians

2004-06-11T09:52:00.000+05:30

Politicians’ world over can exist in only two forms, as ‘mortals’ or as ‘immortals’. While President Clinton proved to be as much or more of a ‘mortal’ than us, normal face-less beings, we have in India given birth to another ‘immortal’ politician.

While we have been used to being ruled by mortal politicians, it has been quite awhile that we have had the chance of being ruled by an immortal politician, a larger than life figure. With the departure of the Gandhis and Nehrus from our world, we Indians, suckers that we are to fawning and drooling, have had a vacuum in our lives. Mrs G partly quenched our thirst of needing to have a demi-God until she slammed on to the ground as Icarus, for having flown too close to the sun by imposing an ‘emergency’ in a land that abhors dictators. The Nehru-Gandhi clan has again risen to the occasion and provided us much needed succour with the emergence of Mrs Sonia Gandhi, a saint in the garb of a human; one who relinquishes the throne for the sake of saving India.

With one masterstroke she, till the 19th of May Circa 2004 a mere mortal, has risen to the ranks of immortals and has assured her place among the portraits of Nehru and Gandhi who stare down at us from every conceivable wall of our seats of government. We Indians have had multiple earth shattering orgasms on the night of the 19th, let the date be etched in our memories, to see a Gandhi, true to form, rising, as it were, as a Phoenix, straddling over us as Gulliver did in the land of Lilliputians. I wonder if Ashoka the Great was wooed to reclaim the throne in the same manner that the Congressmen did; falling over each other, to request, nay plead, cajole ‘Madam’ to please take the throne; alas she was unmoved! She did not heed to any of the innumerable petitions, nor did she let her ‘desire’ fall prey to pictures of a Congressman holding a pistol to his head, held aloft on a makeshift podium, declaring that the gun shall bring to him his deliverance, if she were to abdicate the throne. As an aside, not a single Congressman either shot himself dead or did any of the terribly ghastly things that they threatened to do if ‘Madam’ did not choose to revert to being a ‘mortal’ again. I must say that ‘Amma’ down south has a much more stronger band of followers who regularly ‘immolate’ themselves if their beloved ‘Amma’ were, so much so as to, catch a cold.

The Indian media, specifically the print guys, fell into a mighty swoon. The editors and correspondents, for the first time in their lives, were left groping for words. How does one describe such rare occurrences? Who in this day and time gives up power and relinquishes the grand trappings of office and pelf? So thus we gave birth to Saint Sonia, a larger than life figure, an Indian who is more ‘Indian’ than us, a foreigner who has taught us the long lost art of ‘sacrifice for the larger good’. Her ‘inner voice’ now has more credibility in the world media and is quoted verbatim in the haloed British parliament than any other ‘external’ voice. The human mind, a fascinating piece of machinery, cannot see an object or person in seclusion without trying to ‘categorise’ it and express it in degrees of comparison, and so Saint Sonia is now in the same league with Mother Teresa, Annie Besant etc.

The BJP, a party now, with an extremely severe case of both ‘feet and hand in the mouth’ and ‘eat crow’ disease, has been hard hit with one of those President Bush’s ‘precision guided’ missiles. For a change, the precision guided missile did turn out to be ‘precision guided’ and hit the target, bang on, with pinpoint accuracy. Elections 2004 had already robbed the BJP of its sheen and had sent its leaders into a dumbfounded silence, and while party stalwarts Vajpayee and Adwani locked themselves up, nursing their wounds, the children came out to play.

Big ‘bindi(ed)’ Sushma, out to avenge her sidelining by the likes of Pramod Mahajan and Arun Jaitley, declared her ‘Savitrick’ zeal for India, in the full glare of the media lights, and presented to all her viewers of the ‘imaginative kind’ a fascinating image of her tonsured visage, sleep-on-the-floor stiffness and more dark circles round her eyes, what with eating only ‘channa’! Saffron robed ‘sanyasin’ Uma wanting to go on leave for a long time and searching for the opportune time promptly submitted her ‘resignation’ to the party president and not her state Governor to take an extended all-expenses-paid sojourn to ‘Kedarnath’ and ‘Badrinath’ to cleanse her and ‘India’s’ soul. Govindacharya, the guy with the oily mirror-like shiny pate, crawled out of the woodworks and in his immaculate Hindi pouted why Sonia wouldn’t be fit to be the Prime Minister. Alas, Saint Sonia robbed them of their issues and me the opportunity to see Sushma’s bald visage.

What the BJP needs is a good doctor to save it from being hospitalised. It also needs to send all its workers with any of the two diseases to the ‘Abu Garib’ prison in Iraq for some ‘American-Contractor’ treatment, to drill some sense into them and fully purge them of their really dreadful aliments.

But I digress; Saint Sonia is due much more than we give her credit for. She has calculated the pros and cons in taking up the journey towards sainthood and I dare say the pros outstripped the cons by a mile. I do admire the lady and her ‘inner voice’. It would not be unfair to say that her inner voice did speak out at the most opportune time and thereby let the cat out among the pigeons. While we can all pontificate about how a non-Indian can become a Prime Minister and that we, a mass of a billion people cannot find a single politician amongst us who is capable of leading the country forward, the larger issue of experience (in public life), capability and maturity needs to be understood. A roll call of all the Prime Ministers that we have had so far will reveal that they were men and women of experience, with long years spent in public life and though someone like Indira inherited the mantle from her father nevertheless she was exposed to the socio-politico milieu right from her childhood. The least experienced politician to take the high chair was Rajiv, though he was groomed for some years, after the tragic death of his brother Sanjay, by his mother and had some experience in ground level work as an AICC General Secretary. Dolts like Viswanath Pratap Singh and Deva Gowda too came with years of political experience, though it is besides the point that the muck really hit the fan during their tenures (remember the Mandal-Kamandal fracas).

Sonia Gandhi had none of the credentials and to boot she was a reluctant entrant to politics. That she did enter politics was due to the fact that the Congress party was going to the dogs at an alarming rate and only a person with some degree of Nehru-Gandhi pedigree (albeit borrowed) could arrest the decline. Her taking up the Congress Presidents post infused the cadres, who were used to extraordinary amounts of fawning and grovelling, with renewed vigour and at long last a deity to pay obedience to.

Her taking up the Prime Ministerial throne would have irreparably damaged this carefully crafted and nurtured image, of an Indira look alike in gait and stride, astride an open jeep or hanging to the footboard of a ‘Safari’, pallu tucked, just right, over her head (alas she had no white streak of hair to show!) and gregariously waving to the teeming masses of the rural and semi-urban folk while being showered with rose petals (all red as during Indira’s reign) and an assortment of garlands flung with careful aim. The damage would not have been restricted to her alone but would have affected her family, whose political ambitions are not lost to the general public.

If she were to take up the chair it would have been an enormous and daunting task of:

a. Keeping up to the pulls and pressures of coalition politics; doing the neat balancing act punctuated with threats and sulk, à-là-Vajpayee

b. Keeping a check on the army of sycophants who would have agreed to all that she said irrespective of its merit

c. Keeping from the opposition a steady supply of instant-on-the-street demonstration material. Any bold move that she would have made would have construed as a sell-out of India to Italy in particular and the Western world as a whole. If the Swadeshi Jagaran Manch did not spare the BJP what chance did the Congress led regime stand!

d. Keeping the government alive for the full term

e. And as a porcupine, be in a constant state of alertness, so as not to expose the soft underbelly least the enemy makes a killer strike.

Sonia’s ‘inner voice’, as in all our inner voices, has ensured the survival of the species. By giving up the claim to the throne she has:

a. Catapulted herself, in one deft stroke, to the haloed heights of martyrdom and has attained an almost iconic status for the Congress workers and the mass of Indians so prone to demi-god worship

b. Snatched from the opposition their most potent issue and converted the fence-sitting intellectuals on to her side

c. Ensured that she is the ever-present ‘power’ behind the powers

d. Neatly segregated the handling of the ‘bad’ and the ‘good’. All that is bad, can be laid at the doorstep of Dr Singh and all that is good would be because of her presence and stewardship (She retains the Chairmanship of the Alliance)

e. Her giving up the throne has, more than ever, legitimised its handing over to Rahul or Priyanka, with Dr Singh doing the interim holding operations till the Prince or Princess, the choice is yours, is ready to take over the mantle.

f. Ensured that if the government were to fall in the next 2 – 3 years she would escape unscathed and would be in a position to ask for the people to vote only and only for the Congress since all other experiments have failed and that she Saint Sonia is not power hungry.

Elections 2004 - Understanding the Indian Voter

2004-06-10T09:48:00.000+05:30

Elections 2004 are over and what a tumultuous election it has been! The Indian voter has revealed his mind and ensured that the ruling National Democratic Alliance led by, what some people would like to phrase as the ‘right-wing-Hindu-nationalist-party’, the BJP, sits in the Opposition benches. While I am ‘personally’ disappointed with the results, they have thrown up (at least in my mind!) some interesting issues about the large mass of people, its preferences, voting patterns, etc, that keep the wheels of the largest democracy in the world turning.

To my mind, understanding the demographic division within India forms a key to unravelling the mystery of the Indian voter. The demographic division of the populace is interesting and one can view this division using various lenses. At the linguistic level the country has been carved up into states based on language, so while Tamil Nadu is populated by Tamils, Bengal is the land of Bengalis, and so on. During the last 5 years the larger states that dominated the Indian polity have given way to smaller states for instance Chattisgarh, Uttaranchal, etc, and the trend will continue in the coming years. If we were to look through the ‘religious’ lens, the country is predominantly a Hindu country with a large Muslim population (the largest in the world among non Islamic countries) forming the second block. The Christians, Buddhists, Jains, Zoroastrians and others, make up the rest. While Hindus and Muslims are dispersed almost equally across the country, the other religions have strong pockets of influence in certain parts of the country; for instance, Christianity is the predominant religion in the North-Eastern part of India while Buddhism is present in the Hindi heartland of U.P. and Bihar. Viewed thru the ‘economic’ lens, India is a largely poor country with the rural and urban poor forming the mass of the population, next in line comes the great and fabled ‘middle class’ that can be further sub-divided into the ‘upper middle class’, middle middle-class (if there is anything like that!), and the lower middle-class. At the top of the monies pile sit the very rich and the stinking rich. Thus, one individual has several identities and each of these identities have their own pulls and pressures that dictate which way one votes.

Take my case for instance, I am an Indian, Hindu, Bengali, middle class person. Each one of these identities has their own pulls and has a say in my own voting preference. Thus as an ‘Indian’ my prime issues are:
a) Economic development of the country
b) Foreign Policy initiatives which would translate to peace in our immediate neighbourhood and an important voice on the world stage
c) As an Indian I am terribly egoistic; my country has been under western cultural, political and economic foreign domination from the 18th century to the middle of the 20th century and while I have not seen those pre-liberated days my fathers and grandfathers generation is a living proof of that age and time. I would be loath to see a foreign national lead the country, and in this particular case one who did not take up Indian citizenship for the first 15 odd years of her married life. ‘Bahu’ or no ‘Bahu’ concept overridden!

If I were to vote only wearing my ‘Indian’ hat then my vote would go to the BJP, not for the economic stuff since we are evolving but, singularly because peace gives momentum for the economy to grow instead of stationing our troops at the borders doing precious little then peeling nuts. And to at least see an Indian from among a population of a billion, lead the country.

Wearing my ‘Hindu’ hat or rather my ‘religion’ hat is, by far, the most interesting. Hinduism to me, and as it is, is a way of life, a way to live and conduct your life on earth. It has, for me, nothing to do with grandiose temples and the like. On the other hand history is proof to both:
a) the Hindu’s remarkable ability to assimilate within himself all the various religious that either found birth in this land or followed the procession of invaders who either pillaged the country or adopted this country as their own
b) the Muslims largely harsh on the Hindus during their rules baring really ‘true’ rulers such as Akbar who did not discriminate on religious grounds
Being only a Hindu does not end the task. I have to contend with my caste affiliations to further decide on my vote. Being a Bengali the task is made easy, since we do not, as a majority at least, pander to caste affiliations. On this front I wouldn’t have voted for the BJP, for the majestic state of inaction that they showed during the Gujarat riots, nay even the total subservience of the entire state and judicial machinery to subvert the rule of law and sanity.
If I wear my ‘Bengali’ hat, then no votes for the Left parties, which have effectively killed Bengal, and in the same breath no votes for either the BJP or the Congress or for that matter anyone. I abstain from voting!
While viewing from my economic status there would have been very little difference between the BJP and Congress’s ability to change my fortunes in the short to medium term and I cannot conjure an image for the long-term prospects. But again, I would vote for the BJP for the fact that 50 years of Nehruvian economics with grandiose non-functional 5 year plans, read socialism inspired plans, have done precious little for the general mass of people. Time to move on and vote.

To sum up, the BJP gets 2 positive votes, 1 negative vote and in one case I abstain from exercising my democratic right. Voila! That’s why I ended voting for the BJP.
If we take a Muslim’s point of view they (even if they were from similar backgrounds as mine) would not have voted for the BJP on the grounds of the Gujarat riots alone. Even if voting for the BJP had meant a better economic prospect for the country, the spectre of sectarian violence and the innate human nature to protect one’s community would have played a major role. Here again the BJP would have come up with a cropper and not to speak of the rabid ‘Praveen Togadias’ and morally and ideologically corrupt ‘V.H. Dalmias’ sapping whatever damage control exercises the BJP would have undertaken. Muslim’s, to my mind, irrespective from which economic strata they come from, would by and large, not have voted any differently.

The rural and urban poor do not have to contend with so many different facets while deciding their vote. The two aspects that they would have had to contend with were a) The caste that the candidate belonged to and b) the ‘economic’ changes that the prospective candidate or party is perceived to bring about in their lives. The track record of the BJP for the latter dictum was dismal. The party was identified with the middle class and the rich and was perceived to have made little or, as in most cases, no difference to their lives. The poor and rich divide was amplified by the media blitzkrieg that the BJP undertook.

While to middle class people like me the campaign signified the coming of age of Indian politics, where different forms of media are used to put forth the ‘glory’ of a party’s rule, to the poor it only made the case crystal clear that the ruling coalition was their bane and that the BJP was predominantly a party for the educated, rich and the elite. When the majority of the populace is poor then this surely is hara-kiri. All well to say this in hindsight but it’s true! The middle-class is more to blame for this than the rich and elite. How many of us know that over 3000 farmers committed suicide in Andhra Pradesh alone? What is then the use of someone like Babu, who apart from being an IT Czar and having visions of modernizing Andhra did little during his 2 terms in office to reach the benefits of development to the poor? In a country like India the fact that your foreign reserves are overflowing with green bucks have no impact on the lives of the poor, for whom the routine of existence is limited to finding the next meal to be put on the table. Disinvestments also have nothing to do with them. How many guys have heard or seen a ‘Maruti’ and here we are, pruning our feathers over the smashing success of the Maruti disinvestments. Mr. Suzuki to them is a non-entity; he simply does not exist in their worlds.

Thus if you (as a poor person) had a choice in the form of a non-BJP candidate from the same caste as you were, you went out and voted for him. Places like Bihar fox me. What have people like Laloo or Ram Vilas Paswan done for the state or its people? But still they manage to win the largest number of seats. Is it that the people vote only on caste considerations or are they in any way so intimidated that they choose to vote for no one else!

The rich and the elite, by and large, are done with the political system. They have little or no interest in voting or in any aspect of governance, apart from their immediate business needs. So if the stock market travels north at a good velocity, with the minimum of loss of ‘momentum’ due to any type of friction, all the better. ‘Change’ to add to the family kitty. For those who vote from among this haloed class and who do not form a part of the intelligentsia, the BJP is the next best thing to nirvana. The Anil Ambanis of this world are not really affected by who comes to power, not after the dismantling of the ‘license-permit’ raj. If this year the BJP got the largest share from their election war chest then the Congress is the top contender for the coming one. All irritants can be brought over, so why bother and dilute precious ‘corporate’ time!
A good percentage of the educated intelligentsia have almost a rabid and xenophobic loathing for the BJP. For them the BJP is akin to the Mussolini’s and Hitler’s of this world, out to annihilate the entire Muslim populace from the face of India. I must say the RSS with its short Khaki coloured shorts armed with long ‘lathis’ do send us back in time and in the process renders impotent any hopes for the BJP to claw its way out of this ‘image’ hole. Apart from this there are two more slogans that the intelligentsia love raking up and passionately debating about, ‘saffronization’ and ‘corruption’. People like Murli Manohar Joshi are epitomes of how to rock a perfectly sailing boat by raking up issues like the ‘IIM fees’ for what reason I still cannot fathom.
On the other hand, perfectly justified attempts at rewriting ‘Nehruvian’ coloured history books are dubbed as ‘saffronisation’ since there is an information vacuum on what was being attempted and the absence of a larger national debate. The interpretation of ‘history’ falls into the subjective realm, the significance and importance of ‘roles’ played out by the various actors during a certain period can be interpreted according to what an ‘individual’ historian thinks fit.

Why? Our own freedom struggle is littered with freedom fighters that have been either marginalized or simply do not find mention in our books that are so predominantly overshadowed by the ‘Gandhis’ and the ‘Nehrus’. What treatment does someone like Sardar Patel find? For that matter does Netaji share the same ‘mind-space’ as would a Gandhi, two sides of the same coin, each fighting for independence and each with his unique approach? If non-violence was a way towards deliverance then the ‘kshatriya dharma’ of fighting against an occupier was equally relevant. Would the English have left the country on the strength of non-violence alone? If a ‘Netaji’ chose to honour his ‘dharma’ then he was only following what Lord Krishna said in the Gita. How do you marry the two worlds? Is any historian competent enough to pass any kind of judgement and decide who gets greater coverage in the History books, or should his role be limited to be a ‘recorder’ of events, all events, and be bound within the same bounds as a court-recorder or a parliamentary proceedings recorder.
Secondly, the ever-dominant slogan of ‘corruption’ finds the BJP on the wrong side of the table. They forget that Mrs G was the ‘mother’ of corruption and was among the most prominent leaders to institutionalise this malaise. Corrupt they all are and to the same degree. Make hay while the sun shines is the motto. Reading the Asian Age article on the ‘Bofors Gun’ scam makes your hair stand on end! What happened to the unaccounted monies? Let sleeping dogs lie! And, if you wake them up and make a checklist of all the scandals that took place and got buried without a single politician being hauled over the coals, then the Congress would have a larger list, simply by the sheer fact that they have ruled the country for much longer than the BJP or any other party. Give BJP the list and they would also make good of catching up. In the end the BJP’s loss is the Congress’s gain! And Mr. Intelligentsia don’t, for heavens sake; don’t rend the air with cries of ‘corruption’.

So you know how they voted? Any surprises why the BJP fared poorly?
Another interesting facet revealed by these elections, though not for the first time, is the fact that ‘dictators’ have no place in our lives. If you choose to live by the sword then be prepared to die by it! Amma down south would have choked on her idlis on the 13th, much like her federal counterpart, ensconced safely on the other side of the Atlantic, choked on his pretzels. She drew up an Aussie Duck! ‘Babu’ too had the dictatorial streak and sooner rather than later he too would have had gunpowder on his face. So much for the ‘I-have-the-bigger-gun’ theory! Narendra Modi, get hold of your dhoti, lest you have to run out in your ‘langot’!

Parties, which are led by mavericks, who throw a tantrum at the drop of the hat are also very unceremoniously shown the door. Chest beater Mamta, was shown no ‘mamta’ by her electorate and has been almost wiped out from the face of West Bengal save for two miserly seats. So there, don’t put your mouth where there is a fire!
The irony of this election is manifold. While the BJP was done in by its own spin and the likes of Pramod Mahajan, suave, articulate and IT friendly have egg on their faces, an Italian finds herself, to her utter surprise and whoops of joy, the job of running a country! But the real danger lies ahead. There is no party that can take the centrist stage. While the Congress is leaned heavily to the left, what with the ‘red’ parties trying to tear down the disinvestments ministry and the Amar Singhs baying for poor Arun Shourie’s blood, the BJP now, more than ever, runs the risk of taking the extreme right-wing stage with the RSS and the VHP asserting themselves.

Lo and behold the ‘Govindacharyas’ of this world have risen from the ashes, dusted off their soiled clothes and are ready for the arc lights of the TV studios to glow off their bald brown pate. Sushma Swaraj has, by the way, gone a mite too far by stating that she plans to get herself tonsured!

The real victim is India. We have lost a statesman in Vajpayee, who would have been and was an ideal centrist. He demonstrated the ‘dharma’ of running coalitions, in a country where fractured verdicts have to be accepted as a way of life. He has ably proved that a country can be governed sensibly even when the government is composed of parties that have divergent views on many an issue. The ability to bring peace, not by rhetoric or self-belief (hindi-chini bhai-bhai), but by principled stand and patient dialogue can be proved in good measure by the quiet success that we have had with China. The fact that Chinese maps now show ‘Sikkim’ as a part of India is no mean achievement. With Pakistan the people-to-people contact initiative really caught on. Only Vajpayee could have made someone like Avul Pakir Jainulabdeen Abdul Kalam President of India.

If we are to have a centrist party, we from the middle-class and the intelligentsia have to salvage the BJP; they are the best bet that we have got. The rot has seeped in too far in the Congress and the strangle hold by the ‘family’ over the party can only increase. If we do nothing the BJP runs an even greater danger of succumbing to the RSS and the VHP pressure. You can then kiss your dreams goodbye of keeping out the Laloos, Paswans and Ammas from taking roost in the centre and sending this country into a time-warp.

Secularism – The Indian Context

2004-02-10T10:41:00.000+05:30

'We are the hollow men
we are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rat's feet on broken glass
In our dry cellar
Shape without form, shade without color,
Paralyzed force, gesture without motion;
Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
Remember us - if at all - not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men'

(T.S. Elliot – Hollow Men)

We may choose to interpret T. S. Elliot’s poem in whichever way we may fancy but there is no denying that we are growing more and more hollow with our chant of being a secular country. It’s time we as individuals and a civil society introspect and ponder where this chant has taken us.

To my mind the word ‘secular’ has been blown way out of proportion from what the word actually connotes. While I was penning (keyboarding!) this piece I thought why not look up a dictionary (online) and get the various interpretations of the word. Here’s what I found:

sec·u·lar (s k y -l r)
adj.
1. Worldly rather than spiritual.
2. Not specifically relating to religion or to a religious body: secular music.
3. Relating to or advocating secularism.
4. Not bound by monastic restrictions, especially not belonging to a religious order. Used of the clergy.
5. Occurring or observed once in an age or century.
6. Lasting from century to century. n.
1. A member of the secular clergy.
2. A layperson.

Source: The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition
Copyright © 2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company.

Secular
\Sec"u*lar\, n.
1. (Eccl.) A secular ecclesiastic, or one not bound by monastic rules. -Burke.
2. (Eccl.) A church official whose functions are confined to the vocal department of the choir – Busby.
3. A layman, as distinguished from a clergyman.

Source: Webster's Revised Unabridged Dictionary, © 1996, 1998 MICRA, Inc.

Secular
\Sec"u*lar\, a. [OE. secular, seculer. L. saecularis, fr. saeculum a race, generation, age, the times, the world; perhaps akin to E. soul: cf. F. s['e]culier.]

1. Coming or observed once in an age or a century.
The secular year was kept but once a century. -Addison.

2. Pertaining to an age, or the progress of ages, or to a long period of time; accomplished in a long progress of time; as, secular inequality; the secular refrigeration of the globe.

3. Of or pertaining to this present world, or to things not spiritual or holy; relating to temporal as distinguished from eternal interests; not immediately or primarily respecting the soul, but the body; worldly.
New foes arise, Threatening to bind our souls with secular chains. -Milton.

4. (Eccl.) Not regular; not bound by monastic vows or rules; not confined to a monastery, or subject to the rules of a religious community; as, a secular priest.
He tried to enforce a stricter discipline and greater regard for morals, both in the religious orders and the secular clergy. - Prescett.

5. Belonging to the laity; lay; not clerical.
I speak of folk in secular estate. - Chaucer.

Source: Webster's Revised Unabridged Dictionary, © 1996, 1998 MICRA, Inc.

My! My! My! What have we here! This is not what we were made to believe, were we? We are not supposed to have any religion, we are nerds remember! Lets do some hairsplitting on this word (God protect the exalted souls of M/s Nehru and Indira from this, Oh! how my heart bleeds!)

First lets take Chaucer’s interpretation. Here’s my case: All Indians, except all Pandits, Mullahs, Priests, etc, are secular since we are not part of the laity. Solution: Let’s boot the guys who are not secular (read the direct messengers of God) out of the country to achieve a pure secular fabric.

If we are to interpret Prescett’s or Milton’s view, all Hindus are not secular. (Read no regular visits to the temple, nor are we bound by monastic vows or rules; nor confined within a monastery) Solution: Since we are already bursting at the seams either we go to some other planet or declare India a non-secular country

Addision is the best. Have we not observed secularism in the last century? Let’s give it up!

Do I hear laments such as “Look what’s happening to the secular fabric of my country” or better still “Here is a hardcore RSS/Shiv Sena follower. What’s it with the young people of today?” I don’t care if I am labeled a part of a ‘vanar sena’ but I shall not be lead to believe that the word ‘secular’ which appears in the Preamble of the Indian Constitution was included for any other reason but to reap the dividends of the vote bank by a certain Mrs. G, whose father if we choose to remember chose to divide the country rather than give up his intransigence over the Prime Ministerial chair.

The Preamble as envisaged by our founding fathers read:

“We the people of India, having solemnly resolved to constitute India into a Sovereign Democratic Republic and to secure to all its citizens: Justice (social, economic and political); Liberty of thought, expression, belief, faith and worship; Equality of status and of opportunity; and to promote among them all Fraternity assuring the dignity of the individual and the unity of the Nation; in our constituent assembly this twenty-sixth day of November, 1949, do hereby adopt, enact and give to ourselves this Constitution”

Mrs. G, had the words ‘socialist, secular’ and ‘the integrity’, added to the Constitution (Preamble) by the Constitution (42nd Amendment) Act, 1976. Thus the preamble now reads:

"We the people of India, having solemnly resolved to constitute India into a Sovereign Socialist Secular Democratic Republic and to secure to all its citizens: Justice (social, economic and political); Liberty of thought, expression, belief, faith and worship; Equality of status and of opportunity; and to promote among them all Fraternity assuring the dignity of the individual and the unity and integrity of the Nation; in our constituent assembly this twenty-sixth day of November, 1949, do hereby adopt, enact and give to ourselves this Constitution”

Now Mrs. G, being the consummate stage actor that she was, couldn’t just add the word ‘secular’, could she? So she goes ahead and throws in a few more words and in the process manages to get the Russians to dance (we are a socialist country!). But the serendipity lies in the fact that she got the line ‘the unity of the country’ changed to ‘the unity and integrity of the country’ since the word ‘secular’ precisely undo’s that.

An object case of how to throw wool over the public’s eyes on one’s own intentions can be found in the “Statement of Objects and Reasons appended to the Constitution (Forty-fourth Amendment) Bill, 1976 (Bill No. 91 of 1976) which was enacted as THE CONSTITUTION (Forty-second Amendment) Act, 1976” from which I quote ‘in verbatim’ the following points:

“2. The democratic institutions provided in the Constitution are basically sound and the path for progress does not lie in denigrating any of these institutions. However, there could be no denial that these institutions have been subjected to considerable stresses and strains and that vested interests have been trying to promote their selfish ends to the great detriment of public good.”

“3. It is, therefore, proposed to amend the Constitution to spell out expressly the high ideals of socialism, secularism and the integrity of the nation, to make the directive principles more comprehensive and give them precedence over those fundamental rights which have been allowed to be relied upon to frustrate socio-economic reforms for implementing the directive principles. It is also proposed to specify the fundamental duties of the citizens and make special provisions for dealing with anti-national activities, whether by individuals or associations.”

"This information is downloaded from the website of Ministry of Law and Justice (Legislative Department)"

Its time we ponder and let go of the baggage of history that we carry on our individual shoulders (we do not feel the weight thanks to our education system!) and stop doing a cause and effect jig every time some event takes place. For instance ‘the Mumbai blasts took place because of Gujarat riots which in turn took place due to the Godhra carnage which in turn took place due to the Mumbai riots (‘99) which in turn took place due to the Mumbai blasts (earlier one) which (thanks for your patience) in turn took place due to the Babri Masjid demolition which in turn...”

The United States is not a secular country, is it? But pray tell me why don’t the Christians butcher the Jews who in turn could butcher the Hindu and Muslim communities that reside there. The reason is simple; the political masters were and are not out to devour the country, no matter to what age and time they belong to.

This has had a cascading effect on the various self-promoted conscience keepers of the nation. You can find them everywhere, blaring from your television sets or writing tomes on how the ‘secular fabric is being torn to shreds’ etc. I have both Muslim and Christian friends, as most of you would, but does the fact that they belong to a different religion make me him or her any different? I think not, though our political masters would make us believe. Thus you would have a certain well known Muslim poet in Bollywood, while commenting on the Mumbai blasts on national television, lamenting the fact that ‘while Muslims constitute 12% of the population their numbers within the government sector is just 3%’ and so … If this is the yardstick by which you decide whether India is a secular country, well, the less said the better.

While there is no denying that Hinduism is the majority religion in India, which my ‘self-promoted conscience keeper’ friends would rather die of embarrassment than admit, does that mean we tell people of all the other religions to pack their bags and make a move! No, but we learn to live together (which we did very well before) while respecting each others beliefs without melting out special treatment to any one religion or grouping in particular.

The need of the hour is to recognize that:

A. There are poor people in this country irrespective of what religion or community they come from. A poor Hindu would have the same daily turmoil as would a poor Muslim, so why promote one at the cost of the other
B. Education, health and employment is still a major challenge. Address that
C. Empower people economically and you would have solved a majority of the problems

If I were to do a few things to right the wrongs I would:

I. Replace the current reservation system, one that is based on caste, religion, community etc with a simple one that takes into account income levels, thus hypothetically, all people with a monthly income of Rs. 500 or below are eligible for special benefits
II. Make schooling free for people below a certain income level irrespective of anything
III. Provide state help to poor students to access learning resources (Good teachers, books etc) and compete

Give a level playing ground and then see if ‘the unity and integrity’ of the nation, so loftily pronounced by Mrs. G., is protected.