nagging thoughts

Whatever be your name

2011-05-06T03:14:00.002+05:30

As a small child, have you watched a strong wind on a hot July afternoon? Feeling the heat wave, and seeing small pieces of papers and rags suddenly taking to the air, old people start rushing inside their home or shops where they are forced to go at such a time, and the small road side shop keepers and hawkers bring out large covers, usually blue thick polythene sheets to cover their items to avoid the blowing dust from settling on their vegetables, fruits, biscuits or other eatable. But, our would follow the small paper bit that has suddenly started flying from nearby. The newspaper piece first flies very down close to the road as if floating on water and goes up slowly but getting far away from us. So it becomes to difficult to keep track which is your paper as it joins a large number of such papers that have now taken the middle part of the road. And slowly these rags, papers in all colours, red, white, grey yellow and with them small polythene bag parts, twines, start revolving at a particular place away from you. Just like a cyclone. And we wonder whether this is cyclone.

The big colourful magic of small papers and wind.

And then suddenly within minutes, it is gone. The wind stops. And the colourful bits fall to the ground. Nowhere to be seen again.

All these while, when your eyes are following them with keen interest and longing for the wind to continue blowing, you would have failed to call your close friend who is sitting next to you in the classroom or your brother who is watching TV in the next room. Not because you didn't want to share the joy, fun, beauty, what do we call it then, because it was all of them, but none of them also and so we did not have a name for it then, but because you are so much absorbed in the excitement of watching it that for a moment, the whole world has to exist. Even your mom calling you for lunch or the teacher asking you to turn to the black board seem to be happening some where very far.

But later, you would not share it others, what if they call it very silly or fight with you for telling them then itself. Worse, even at that age, we knew one thing for sure, it will not happen everyday and so would not look forward to it. But even after several weeks and months, the lightest feel of a wind will bring back in you the image of the papers flying and arouse a small silly hope to see it again.

A predicament of the human life is this kind of feeling does not die down as we grow up, but only the objects that give us such a joy gets continuously replaced with age.

A teenager may get this excitement from suddenly seeing a big custom built bike zooming past him while a middle age person may lose himself at the smell of something very beautiful. Some others may get carried away on the sight of a garden in the early morning fog.

A person like me get can lose himself only at the sight of a beautiful girl. Except that for me it is the presence of a smart looking girl.

And the one I saw the metro station last night, she is still right in my eyes. All I need to do to see her, is just close my eyes.

It was not the first time that I ever saw her, because I get to see her several days a week. And on days when this does not happen, I know where to find her.

So, what is in her that makes me speechless at her sight, As if suddenly my whole body is frozen and I can't move my legs or hands.

In a tizzy due to the radiance from her, I even fail to look at her face properly. As a result, though I can see her now while writing this, am not sure whether she has a mole on her face or is it just my imagination.

In a worldly way, she might not be the most beautiful girl I see in a day. But the hair – did I say hair, she might find this funny – and her eyes. Yes, the powerful eyes that catch me unawares, meeting which I feel like being caught in a wrong act, but still am not sure whether they are looking at me or beyond me. And the occasional smile that I get a glimpse of when she is talking to others.

When she bends her head and smiles, I get carried to my young days when used to see a lot of cartoons and imagine the characters in human form. The one that comes to my mind now is the He-Man series, which had the most beautiful western characters.

But a detached analysis says she is not my kind. Also that I am not in love with her and have no yearning to talk with her or listen to her for hours. Or to hold her hand and walk on the beach. Worse, it is not even lechery.

Then?

It's magic. A magic that only a few have.

Like a sudden rain on a hot summer day or a thin ray from behind the clouds on a dark day, like a colourful butterfly that flutters near your nose, or a beautiful dream you know you are having – anything you do consciously will only kill it.

I don't want to break this magic by desiring to own her, or even get close to her. It's beautiful this way.

Easy to protest, but hard to stand up

2011-03-13T16:07:00.000+05:30

The killing of a girl in broad daylight outside her college this week makes two stark statements on Delhi's state of affairs: First, the killer did not take seriously the police system in the national capital and took the middle class, especially the youth, for granted.

Now, the killer was neither a gangster nor a professional criminal who had planned well the shooting, after learning the policing system in place. Nor did he have accomplices waiting nearby to pick him from the spot.

How audacious he was shoot at Radhika Tanwar around 10.30 am not on a narrow lane or deserted road but on the foot-over bridge of a busy road. If he thought he could get away without being confronted, he certainly was not blocked by anyone for more than half a kilometre – not by the members of the great Indian middle class nor by the country's future – the 'youth'.

Subsequently, students of Delhi university staged protests against the killing. I can understand their fury, but isn't it time for introspection: to stop for a moment and think how could a person muster so much courage to take out a pistol and shoot a girl outside a city college?

Doesn't this speak about his – and in a larger sense, criminals' – perception of the young people whether they would intervene. During my college years in Chennai, boys would not pass comments on girls outside the latter's college, fearing action from the locals. What has gone wrong now?

The alleged killer Vijay's hunch proved true as he could run from the crowded bridge for more than a minute – what is worse is that he could get away through and from the crowd despite being chased by the boy accompanying Radhika.

It's easy to stage protests and blame the government for everything, but how could we let such a thing happen during peak hour? How could the youth let them be taken for granted by criminals?

Then this means worse situation for the police. First, according to their theory, after Saturday's snub, Vijay went to Gurgaon and bought a .315 bore country-made pistol for Rs2,500 and shot her dead on Tuesday. That means a common man in the national territory could easily get hold of a weapon in a very short period.

Isn't that a very frightening situation? Arms sale to a common man from the lower strata of the society – not a gangster or professional criminal – just outside the national capital!

And with impunity he brings it into the city, takes it out in public view just around 30 kms from the power centre of the country and shoots a girl, and flees with it.

The pressing question for the police should be whether this sale is just the tip of an iceberg.

After that how could he bring it inside the city? One may argue that a person cannot be checked at every spot to check for weapons and explosives. But the harsh reality is that if a normal person could carry a country-made pistol up to that area, a professional could easily carry a latest pistol near the city centre or or other important places – and only at their entrances the barricades would stop him.

This obviously would bring in a big conflict between the security forces/ police and the great middle class – the raison d'être of the media – on how to secure the city and its people.

Will the people – who don't have the patience to wait in queues and who often get into arguments with the security personnel at metro stations – bear with the police to bring stringent measures to scan for such threats at all public places.

Or will they stand up for fellow people so that criminals don't perceive us to be a divided and self-centric people, and fear before any such adventure?

Happy new ear, oops hear… err year!

2011-01-07T15:01:00.000+05:30

I know am late…. But, then people who know me would not expect my New Year blog for another week. And if you are a new comer, welcome to the world of a born procrastinator. Rumour has it that I even was born late.

Back to the new year. Oh no, before that, a few words on the year that went by. Or should it be about the last decade? One third of my life or half of my memories in a blog post! No, it can wait.

2010 a year of booze on road. Tours to Bangalore, Hyderabad, Trichy, Tanjore . . . besides the usual haunt of Pondy! And Delhi - where I spent the past few months.

I stop here, before going on about the costly moments of insanity, the months of freewheeling…

And now, this year. First of all, I can only hope that equality prevails in this democratic country. Why equality? Come on, A. Raja and co owes me a Teachers’ whisky. They deprived the country of Rs 1.76 lakh crore. Now, divide that sum by India’s population and you will know that my share comes to around the cost of a scotch and some snacks!

If you don’t trust me, you can always ask our prime minister, who is known both for his honesty as well his grasp over economics. Thanks to the RTI, if you spend a few rupees and file an RTI application, and his office will tell you the exact amount. Those who are skeptical of the Indian bureaucracy, can then call a press conference and just cast aspersions over his integrity and then the Hamam man will offer to come to your home to answer all the questions you have.

How I wish India had earned that money and I then would have got a bottle of good whisky and welcomed the new year on the road with friends. A new year, which would not filled with boring news about politicians swindling thousands of crores. Imagine, how interesting watching news channels would be if they break news about a minister leaving the bedroom of another leader . And instead of that we just wasted time of hearing what people spoke on phone. Yuck! That is no way titillating or even catching eye balls, buddy.

And ask the IAS aspirants and readers of the great newspaper of Chennai. And wish, in vain, that paper carries some photo of if not Miley Cyrus, at least Freida Pinto – no, absolutely not in a saree. No way. Not at a time when international magazines go the extent of carrying topless photo of even Mandira Bedi !

It is not a typo. She is the same person who used to appear during breaks in cricket matches. Oh, yes, she used to talk about cricket.

It’s not my obsession for such photos that makes my write this, but the very fact that if this is the first sensational news of the year, I wonder what else 2011 has in store! Who next – Rakhi Sawant? I wouldn’t be surprised even if it is some … journalist. (Those who expected the word politician, remember one thing --you all are all perverts. Respect politicians. They are great people who strive night and day… well-wishers who can get you contracts, houses and almost everything under discretionary quota. )

So, a desire this year is to buy something without spending not a single penny. Talking about penny, and not paisa strikes one thought. When so many parties, communities and regions are asking for separate statehood or autonomy or special status or liberation, how come no one is asking for their own currency. How come our great Tamil leaders and language fanatics of other states are not refusing to recognize the new rupee symbol as it is not in their language.

How will it be if the Marathi manoos suddenly demand special currency for Bombay. The currency exchange counter can be at one of the party headquarters and the special currency could be issued only to ~~Mumbaikars~~ Maharashtrians. For, Mumbaikars would include Shah Rukh Khan and Amitabh Bachchan… but the term Maharashtrian would exclude them.

Talking about Bachchan reminds me about his next big film slated for this year. Rumour has it that he will play the lead role in the Hindi adaptation of the chronicles of Narnia. He has agreed to the role of Aslan, saying he has already played the role of a boy and all human forms in earlier films.

And in the real world of lions, I hope this year, instead of referring to tigers as lion, people, oops, sorry, wildlife conservationists will talk about lions and their protections. Mainly for two reasons. One while the tiger is getting all attention, the lions’ TRP ratings are crashing down – and what is the use of letting its number go down first and then cry over it? And more importantly I hear fewer people nowadays using the term sher ka bacha to refer to their children. May be Sidhu should appearing on prime time television.

And I’m sure he will be on TV soon for the cricket world cup. Yes, the world cup, in which fewer than a dozen countries take part and billions of people, join the fielders and rest of the batting team watch a duel between a man chucking a ball on his opponent who, in turn, tries to hit it with a stick. Ok, it is called a bat.

The most interesting match will be, if possible, a semi-final clash between India and Sri Lanka at Eden Gardens. ‘Coz I love the emotional dramas that show tears in the climax.

And India, again, as it has been for the 12 years, will be billed as one of the top teams – i.e, till we start preparing for the next world cup in the middle of this edition. The surprise element expected from the world cup is the accompaniment. If the soccer world cup had the vuezevela, what will the cricket world cup give? Nadaswaram???? I leave it to your imagination.

But then don’t be highly imaginative like Christopher Nolan and try to plant new ideas in my brain. For before you plan that, Hollywood is sure to come up with a weirder films – may be a sci-fi on how to make Angelina Jolie fall in love with you.

And it’s also time one of the Indian born writers created magic and win a prize. And they will come up with a novel that is basically 80 per cent reporting and 20 percent imagination or a huge book that can be read only if you have a dictionary by it.

What else do I expect from this year -- a lot, but would leave you all with a major expectation. Hope I am in Chennai during the polls. Even otherwise, I must get a few thousands. Arre yaar, don’t you remember the words: Aapka vote bahut kimti hai!

And am already late for office…

Happy new year

30-31-32

2010-06-24T23:41:00.001+05:30

The early 30s is a very awkward age. Trust me, and if you don't, ask anyone who is 31. It's an age you don't know where you belong to. Especially, those who are single.

You are nearing the age, by which you wanted to achieve all the goals, but suddently one day wake up and find yourself in the middle of a desert and don't know how long it will be before you cross it. With several of your acquaintances, even classmates you considered dud, having settled abroad and some others resigning to fate, ending up wih their father's business, leaving all their ambitions, you feel standing alone.

OK, why this frustration now? Last week, you should have read the pot shots taken on Twitter at that young-looking middle age man, Rahul Gandhi, on his 40^th birthday and realised that it is not even 10 years left for you.

Recently, on the road, I saw a 17-18-year-old girl coming from the opposite direction. As our eyes met, and I wanted to continue not only looking at her eyes, but lips and ... I felt a pair of eyes. Oh, is that a warning glance from the woman, who looked like her mother? So, I turned away. But I thought something was not right and when I saw her, I felt it was not a look of caution. Just the eyes of a woman – a woman looking at a man!

Not that I have never ogled a girl and her mother at the same time, or that I have not thought of something more pervert, but this was the first time, I was facing such an awkward moment, and even I felt embarased.

This put me in a big existential crisis – where do I belong?

Already many of my friends who are in mid-20s have been calling me an oldie ever since I turned 30, and use that as a reason to not introduce their women friends to me, those older to me snub and chase me away calling me a young boy.

Worse is that even some who are of my age and are married and have kids, call me a jobless guy, with nothing better to do. The only time they need me is after a fight at home when they want someone to booze with, and more importantly one who will silently listen to their long saga.

Now why am I say thing? Because last week I saw a tweet welcoming Rahul Gandhi to middle age. If he is middle aged, then I am apporaching there – it seems like only yesterday we cycled into college, and suddenlty I realise that it has been ten years..- and what have I achieved till now?

In out chief minister's style of telling everything without directly doing so, I can easily say that had I been a lover of poems, I would used the words “The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,

But I have promises to keep”. But since I am not one, I would simpley say my goals just give me sleepless nights.

While earlier, the thoughts of my goals would make me sit though the nights with books in hand or with laptop in front of me... now they only make me anxious, and filled with apprehensions, I go numb and do nothing for the next couple of days ... even not read news papers.

Are these symptoms of anything in particular?

At office, especially if you are a person who does not mingle much (which you invariably become because you are confused about whom to talk to, as all are preoccupied), you will be seen as a man with a mission and be respected. Yes, only respect, not flirting, mind you. For, you are a serious man with a mission.

Not only the girls you used to look at have got married, but even their younger sisters have kids now and they now look at you as if shouting to you: 'Loser'.

The girls you went out with are also married and seem to thank god for the break-up with the guy who 'still has not grown up'.

Old classmates who once wanted to hook me up with of their pretty friends, now ask you to wait for someone to get divorced!

And the neighbours and famly friends start seeing you as a hopeless case, and start nagging about you future plans... may be I have to endure this for another 5-6 years before they label me as 'no hope' case.

At least Rahul has a family propert to look after, so he need not worry. But what do I have?

So, when I think let me make a fresh start and change my career' and want to take life seriously, then comes the toughest question. Everyone close starts looking very suspiciously and even the cloest friend calls it a silly idea and an immature thing to do.

In India, and more importantly in a city like Chennai, where your closed ones try to influence every decision you make, how could one tell that even people like Sylvester Stallone changed his carreer after 30.

“Are you Stallone? He is a Hollywood actor. Don't compare with him,” comes the reply from every lip.

So you are left with only one choice!

They say, you can not fool everybody everytime... and why do I need to do that. I will just try to fool some people some time, putting up an image of a man with a mission. In another few years, either they will learn to put up with me or I will learn some other trick/lie... It's all about a few years before either they start repecting a middle aged man or will throw out a totally no-hope person?

Either way, I will have company, not like now when I am caught in an embarrasing age, and only middle-age women will look at me – at least i would not be tempted to look at their daughters, for fear of losing everything.

******

Footnotes

*Ok, guys, I admit am not as smart looking as you guys are, but remember in the country of the bling, the one eyed is the king ...

* A friend of mine says the Congress is not Rahul's ancestral property, and that he is only a general secretary of the political party.

*A girl says it is too pervert and over assuming of me to think that a woman would have looked at me, when she was with her daughter. To which, I have a simple reply: Yes. So I would feel better if the daughter returns from college in the evening and the mother goes to market in afternoon... I am free at both times.

* SB says it is blasphemous (blasphemous?) and a slur on Indian culture to say that married woman looked at men. -- no, SB is not married, and now he is afraid of married, because he might have to introduce people like us to his wife. OK, like mathematicians, let's assume that I did not write this – so you never got to read this!

*GJ says communism talks about sharing of joy and equal distribution of wealth. Sorry, I won't tell you where I saw the girl.

*NA asks whether I was referring to him when i talked about married men. I want to assure him again that I was only talking about men.

*CS wants to knpw how to pretend to be a man with a mission. Rs 10,000 course fee. And, no you won't get laid by pretending that way!

*Why did I write this? Ask LP, - no, id does not mean liposuction (NA, don't get ideas reading this word, this has nothing to do with lips, or sucking)

*GS- I am not responding to you, because you neither read this, nor asked any question.

Not just a donkey and monkey!

2010-06-15T23:34:00.001+05:30

It's been eight years. Since 2002, I’ve changed half a dozen jobs, worked in three cities and returned to my home, been in a few relationships, lost touch with old friends, made new... A long time!

Suddenly when I read last year about Yann Martel's next novel, my memory wound back to the November 2002 when I borrowed, though flicked should be the appropriate word now, the Life of Pi from a close friend's roommate.

He, a journalist based in Mumbai now, had got the copy as a birthday gift from a colleague, who signed the birthday wishes and instead of giving him the copy, took it for reading and gave him a week later. Intrigued by this act, I borrowed the book from him the day he brought it to his room.

And what a book it was! All the beautiful books I read since then just joined a list that started with 'Life of Pi'.

I got hold of a copy of Beatrice and Virgil on the eve of my birthday, and I ended up spending the early hours of the day with the donkey and the monkey.

Reading the book was like drinking with a long-lost friend.

An old friend with whom we had lost contact, but about whose whereabouts we would often wonder. One who never called up, making us think he might have forgotten us or has settled in some god-forsaken place. But always sure that we would meet once again!

Like the first few rounds of whisky that tickles and teases us, leaving us wanting more, the first part of the novel is beautiful, making us wonder where the author is taking us.

More importantly, since we see shades of Yann Martel in the main character, the book, like a friend apologizing for the vanishing act, goes on about a successful writer Henry, struggling with his second book.

“Fiction and nonfiction are not so easily divided. Fiction may not be real, but it's true; it goes beyond the garland of facts to get to emotional and psychological truths. As for nonfiction, for history, it may be real, but its truth is slippery, hard to access, with no fixed meaning bolted to it. If history doesn't become story, it dies to everyone except the historian . . .'

Reading these words, used to defend Henry’s flipbook on Holocaust, it is like the golden liquid has started showing its effect and an assurance that from here on it is going to be one memorable evening, the events of which we may not remember tomorrow, but its feel will stay on forever.

Then, Martel introduces several characters, some of whom, we wonder why they are there, except to remind us that the author's last book involved animals - certainly except the two main characters, a donkey and a howler monkey in a taxidermist shop in some city, which could be any city in Europe or America, or anywhere else!

Martel brings in a lot of things and interweaves them to the extent that reviewers say he owes many writers for the book, but ask me, it is not about what he has written, but how.

Take for instance, when he introduces Virgil the monkey and Beatrice the doneky, Virgil is seen describing to Beatrice a pear, which the latter had never seen. Comparing the looks of others fruits, Virgil creates in Beatrice an yearning for the fruit -- I would buy the book (Rs 450) just for the dialogue on pear alone, and be more than satisfied.

After this, it is typically like a drinking with an old friend, who after the initial exuberance, tries hard to recollect interesting anecdotes here and there.

There's nothing much in the story, and even if there is any, Martel seems to have not put them in the best way.

The dialogues between Virgil and Beatrice sparkle sometimes, but seem to be forcefully fed with symbolism. And soon it seems the dialogues have been forced on the animals, which takes away all the sheen -- and the word holocaust printed across the last few pages, as if the writer is running out of pages and energy and wants to finish the story immediately.

Now, has Martel disappointed me with the book? I would say no, but, only if we read it without any expectation for a good story and forgetting that he wrote Life of Pi and enjoy just the beauty.

Bringing home the scale of BP oil disaster

2010-06-04T21:15:00.002+05:30

Scientists say BP oil could be leaking at a rate of 20,000 barrels a day. Now, imagine if the disaster had happened in India. IfItWasMyHome.com allows you to place a representation of the Mexican Gulf oil spill over any other part of the globe. Here's what it would look like if the spill centered on Mumbai or Chennai.

Census 2011: Cast in hypocrisy?

2010-05-28T17:30:00.007+05:30

I find something inherently funny with India’s legal caste system.

We have the Most Backward Classes (MBC), Other Backward Classes (OBC). And then the Scheduled Castes (SC) and Scheduled Tribes (ST).

As if only the SCs belong to any caste, while others refuse to be labeled as any low caste. Now, the question is, if the founding fathers of the nation were really interested in the uplift of the people categorized as SC/ST and sought social equality for them in foreseeable future, why didn’t they have a common or standard nomenclature.

If they thought reservation system was only temporal, till all the hitherto-oppressed communities developed and attained equality in society, shouldn’t they have settled for a flexible caste hierarchy legally, which could allow upward mobility of a community from one category/group to another – when one community develops, it gets regrouped into MBC then OBC and then OC. So that after sometime, there would be no Scheduled Castes or Most Backward Castes, but people will be homogeneously categorized based on their economic status, which can’t be prevented, because the more hard-working will end up earning more than others.

Now, if the government and any one concerned with society really want social uplift of the downtrodden, how do they appraise the development of people of all castes, especially those classified lower in the order, if not through the national population census?

But the funny part is that all census since 1931 have avoided collecting caste-based data, except for Scheduled Castes.

This totally beats me. By counting only the number of people under SC, have the governments tried to ensure that their number (vote bank) does not increase, or check if they have converted to other religions (and thus are out of SC tag),

To put it straight, how would any government have studied the development of the people categorized as SC/ST without having the corresponding socio-economic data of those belonging to MBC/OBC?

In the words of the government:

The Indian Census is the most credible source of information on Demography (Population characteristics), Economic Activity, Literacy & Education, Housing & Household Amenities, Urbanization, Fertility and Mortality, Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes, Language, Religion, Migration, Disability and many other socio-cultural and demographic data … It provides valuable information for planning and formulation of polices for Central & State Governments and is widely used by National & International agencies … Census is the basis for reviewing the country's progress in the past decade, monitoring the on-going schemes of the Government and most importantly, plan for the future.

This explanation begs only two questions.

If the census is meant to collect data on so many wide-ranging demographic parameters, why such a big debate on including caste, because without any data on caste, would there be a large lacunae in the whole study?

Secondly, if the census is not an end by itself and is only a means towards achieving the nation’s goals, how can it leave out any vital parameter, especially one which has been plaguing the country for thousands of years?

And let’s remember that as long the reservation system prevails, though the lower castes may gain economic benefits, they would be very far from achieving any real status in society because of the patronizing nature of those in power. Don’t we still see opposition to inter-caste marriages even in our developed cities?

Hence, for real social equality, the reservation system must go. And that would happen only when the lower castes develop, till which time, once again, quota system – and more importantly its appraisal through census -- is required.

Now, those opposed to including caste into census say that caste is a divisive factor and so should be avoided. Agreed. But doesn’t the war to end the divisive force start with counting its victims?

Very importantly, I don’t understand how it can be a threat to our social and communal harmony, unless the unique ID is going to include caste name. In such a case, it will only be easier during the time of communal clashes to find the targets. So any plan to include caste name in the ID will only be demonic, for there can be very few worse ways to hurt the dignity of those already being termed as lower castes.

Moreover, we anyway have a rough estimate of how much percentage of the population constitutes each caste category – how else did they plan certain percent reservation for OBC?

So, including caste in census will only further give a concrete figure, in which case I don’t see what the whole hullaballoo is about.

And those who feel that caste should not be included, just because… hmm … err … it is bad, they can just take a walk.

Beauty misunderstood

2010-04-29T06:57:00.004+05:30

Was it an ugly sight? A sight that could be pervert? A girl sleeping in train!

Weary and half asleep, I hopped into the train and went about searching for a seat, cursing the railway employees who occupy all the vantage positions in the first class compartment in the local train. This was the condition every day and silently I took a seat near the aisle, from where I could see a plump figure leaning against the window in the ladies compartment.

In a black and white salwar kameez, and with a small mark of kumkum on her forehead, the lady, or is she a young girl, blew away any sleepiness I had.

Sitting in a corner leaning on the window, she, it seemed, was trying to catch up some lost sleep. Every minute or so, her head would fall in front or hit the wall behind. Shaken, she suddenly opens her eyes and again goes back to sleep. And then a few seconds later, when her hair falls on the face, like an automated reaction, she takes her left hand to adjust it, careful not to move her head even an inch, lest her sleep is disturbed. Nor moving the right arm on which her whole body is balanced.

Immediately, with the same hand she also adjusts her white dupatta, cautious that it is not flying and is in place till her hips, or rather covering everything till her navel. Is this the beauty of the girls in this part of the world that they are so alert, for didn’t she realize that her black dress was serving the same purpose?

Now, this is something beautiful. A girl, or is it a lady, desperately trying to sleep. Beautifully!

Her mouth suddenly opens a little, exposing the teeth, or is it the saliva glistening from 15-20 feet away in this white tube light? And like a small child, she would lick her lips as if some portion of the ice cream she just had is still sticking on the upper lips. Or is she dreaming about some sweet and drooling at it?

Whatever it was, she surely was enjoying the sleep and did not want to be disturbed.
One could go on looking at such a beauty and wish that the train never reached Tambaram, where I have to get down.

Only if there were no stations every 2-3 minutes, when I had to shift my look somewhere else, pretending as if an 80-year-old woman was sitting there, and whom, if at all I have noticed, it was only with reverence. If anyone sees me looking at the girl sleeping, what thoughts would go on inside their mind as to what I was looking at and what kind of pervert I would be seen as.

But how could I not look at the sleeping beauty. Rather be damned by others, than become a fool, not appreciating it.

But how long could I go on like that. Wouldn’t my gaping eyes disturb the deep slumber of even the sister of Kumbhkarna, if he had one.

She did wake up. Or was disturbed by my looks.

The first time our eyes met, she would have only seen a fellow traveler and the second time she might have thought it to be a coincidence, for there was an entrance between us and I was sitting diagonally opposite.

But by the fifth station, her eyes caught me staring at her, worse trying to avoid her eyes – my eyes of guilt and her of irritation which seem to say: Oh no! Won’t you creepy men ever give rest to you roving eyes. Even early morning?

With just one station before I got down, as I turned towards her, she was waiting for me. Coolly, she looked towards me, took her finger and started digging the nose. I had to immediately turn my head and look out.

But the next time I turned, I got the message loud and clear: ‘You wanted to look here, right? Now see me, see me dig my nose… Still interested in ogling?’

Surely, she knows to deal with jobless men! That, too, without uttering a word.

I couldn’t help smiling, but fearing that what action it might attract from her (do I dare to imagine what it could be), I started looking left and right as if studying the whole compartment, stopping at the centre for a second or so.

‘See, I am digging my left nose now… and now the right nose.’

Not ready to face further embarrassment, I packed up and went near the near entrance, thanks the train was now approaching Tambaram.

For one last time when I turned to her side, I saw a short plump girl packing her bag, ready to get down. At the station, I slowed down and let her pass ahead of me.

And lo! What I see, with such a huge bag, and a big book, in the size of a pillow, she must, I think, be a student of one of the numerous engineering colleges in the city.

An ambitious girl who must have studied the whole night for the exam.

A no-nonsense girl who knows to deal with wantons, for, she didn’t bother to look back even once to check if I was following her. Why care?

Beauty not only with brain, but also bravery.

But, wish she had realized that every time a man looks at a girl, it is not necessarily at her Body.

There’s beauty, even where there may be none!

Face it: It’s not funny, just ridiculous

2010-04-27T04:49:00.000+05:30

Two years ago, when I was creating an account in Facebook, a friend said, ‘Man, these social networking sites are for losers. Losers who don’t have a life for themselves. Losers who can’t walk to a girl on the street, smile at her and say hi …’

Now, recently when the social networking website overtook the revered-as-omniscient Google as the most popular website in the US, he didn’t lose face, but was ebullient. He said, “I not only stand vindicated, but this also proves there is no scarcity for losers on this earth -- These people have nothing else to do, but stay logged into Facebook and either update their status every hour, or just see what their ‘friends’ are doing.”

The trend does not mean more number of people are visiting Facebook, but that the visitors are spending more time on the site. For instance, when we visit Google to search something, by our third or fourth click, we are in some other site. But in Facebook, even after one hour we are in the same site, although only gaping at the photo of our colleague’s sister’s friend partying with her friends.

(Not a difficult task to find such images, for the average Facebook user has around 130 friends and more than 3 billion photos are uploaded to the site each month)

Isn’t that what most of the people do on Facebook? A study said seventy per cent of all actions on social networking sites are related to viewing pictures or viewing other people's profiles (so, now you know how you get so many comments). The biggest activity on these sites seems to be men looking at photos of women - firstly of those they don’t know, and then of women they know. As a result, two thirds of the photos looked at, yes right, are of women.

And these are women, we would never come across in life or we would never gather much courage to even smile at even in a party.

Staring at photos to the extent, that for many this works in lieu of – guess what – porn. Wait, I am not saying that people are searching for dirty pictures. But only that they spend time fantasizing women, looking at their photos for a long time.

This may be cool, because in virtual world none will stop you from gazing at a girl’s face for a long time. And she, whoever it may be, won’t get angry with you for that. As simple as that!

Now, if we call people indulging in this as losers, what about those who go about with their life, without checking the updates on Facebook, Orkut or Twitter? Almost half the number of respondents in a recent study admitted to having got up between meals to check these electronic messages. But, it was incredible that 11 percent of them admitted to doing this during sex. Yes. SEX.

People interrupting sex to check these sites! Now what do we call them, if not losers!

But, I think, the worst effect of these social networking sites came last week, when a 16-year-old boy went to court in the US against his mother charging her with harassing him by policing his Facebook page too aggressively. He said she posted slanderous entries about him on the site.

And what did she do? After learning that one day upset with a girl, he drove home at 95 mph, she checked what was going on.

The boy has claimed she changed his password on his Facebook account, posted comments and changed the password to his email so he can no longer receive updates to his page.

Now, the case is in court to be heard.

So better accept the virtual reality that now mothers can’t ‘aggressively’ monitor their children’s activities.

Wow! What a wonderful world.

With such people around, it’s no wonder that Facebook’s popularity is increasing with over 400 million users across the globe. But, this is not the end, as the site is yet to enter mainland China and is still behind Orkut in many Latin American countries and even in India.

(Read it on Sify.com)

Those killer eyes

2010-04-14T03:48:00.000+05:30

It was one of those late August afternoons in Chennai when you don’t feel like doing anything except sit lazily not sure whether one is awake or asleep, when he came running. Dressed in formals as if the tie was suffocating, he looked very tensed and with a file in one hand, ran fast and got it into the compartment.

He shifted the file to the other hand and with a triumphant smile as if he has already cleared the interview he was going to attend in an hour, he took out a white kerchief from, his trousers pocket and wiped the swept off his forehead. ‘Has my shirt got crumpled?’ his look at the shirt seemed to ask.

Then adjusting his belt, when he looked up, he saw her and smiled – a smile only a pretty girl can bring at the first sight. As if sparks flew at the first glance, his face brightened.

What is he thinking? Planning how to approach her? He would just go and ask if he could sit in front her. And then, when she smiles, he would take out the call letter and ask her to give him directions to the office.

But suddenly, sensing another pair of eyes, he looked at my direction. Embarrassed, he turned away, as I did not know whether to smile at him or react as if he I never saw him.

And like the old Solidaire TV which took a few moments to go blank from the white screen when switched off, his smile slowly turned into uneasiness as he realized that it was not just me and her looking at him.

By the time he took out the kerchief again, this time in a hurry that his file slipped and he had to balance himself, the shirt was drenched in sweat and his eyes filled with horror.

‘Why are they looking at me like this?’

By now the train was moving fast and had pulled out of the station. Can’t even jump out now, he must be thinking, his looks said.

When he was in ninth class, he had torn his friend’s dress while playing. As a punishment, the teachers removed his shirt and made him stand in the corridor during lunch hour. He always thought that his most embarrassing moment in life.

This was getting worse than that.

By now, everyone in the compartment, including the seven-year-old boy selling nuts, was gazing at him. But he did not have anywhere to see, except perhaps the fan above him or the ground. But the fan sounded like laughing at him and the ground giving a crack between his legs.

Will he survive if he jumps out? NO, he seems to be a very sensible man to try something so stupid. But he also seems equally sensitive.

As if in a flash, he moved to the door on the other side and looked out. No.. nothing is visible, so again, unable to stand at one spot, he rushed back to the earlier door, and holding on to the pole stared what lay ahead.

Ah, finally the station is visible. But it is at least a kilometer away and he had nowhere else to go. Worse, what can one do when more than a fifty pairs of piercing eyes are fixed on him — some smiling, some angry and others totally embarrassed but not willing to miss the action.

As if unable to bear this, he shot an accusing look at me. Eyes full red. I was sitting in the other end of the compartment. In a corner. He must have seen me while getting in, because I was looking at him as he was running.

Will he beat me up, if I were near him? The very thought made me shudder and I buried my face in a book.

Finally, as the train moved into the station, he was already hanging in the air, just with one foot inside the train. And suddenly jumped out.

Ahhh! Kadavule! Ayyyo.. a sudden gasp in the whole compartment and everyone rose to peep out if what happened to him.

But he was nowhere to be seen. Where has he gone, everyone started asking each other, for they were waiting for this moment from the time they saw him.

He must have leapt into the general compartment immediately. I know. Before getting first class season ticket, even I have entered ladies section several times .

the web of life

2010-03-02T10:57:00.000+05:30

Let’s stop the buck

2010-02-26T07:27:00.003+05:30

… but the best thing about partyocracy is there is always someone to pass the blame on.

If you question your MP -- whom you rarely get to meet, because though he was elected to take care of the concern of the people in your constituency, he is now busy managing the affairs of the country – he points the finger at the party, which in turn blames the government – we are a great nation where even the ruling party can distance itself from the government or even blame it. Now, the government either blames the opposition, or, better still, to save itself, blames the allies. The ally, which has nothing to lose, will go on its rhetoric about ideology, principle and every other nonsense.

Nonsensical? Ask the people who voted TRS chief K Chandrasekhara Rao to the Lok Sabha in 2004 and then again in 2009. When he was with Congress, he blamed the ruling party, which then blamed someone else and so on…

Worse is though they voted for the same candidate in both elections, once he was a part of the government and the second time in opposition. Like the case of people in Tamil Nadu who voted for DMK candidates in 1999 and 2004 elections -- they not only saw two different Prime Ministers, but the governments were led by rival parties.

Generally, the government is headed by the leader the political group –not necessarily a pre-poll alliance, anymore – with majority. Even that is not necessary now. Remember I K Gujral, and now consistently-power-seeking Deve Gowda, who went on to become Prime Ministers, only because they could hold the unholy-alliance of parties together.

Would any of you, even if you are stoned, vote the duo for the top post?

But the worst was to come in 2004, when the leader of Congress chose to nominate someone out of the blue, who is still reluctant to contest the Lok Sabha elections, as the country’s Prime Minister.

No personal grudge against Dr Manmohan Singh, but what has done since 2004?

If people say Manmohan alone is not to be blamed, because he is part of a party that leads a coalition whose concerns are also to be addressed, then we are in total agreement .

His party can remove him from the post anytime and so since 1989 the main goal every prime minister has been to sustain the government – and, in between, to work for the growth of the party. Finally, a year before elections, the government announces sops to woo the voters.

But he can not take any harsh decision because assembly elections of one state or the other is always round the corner. How can spoil his party’s chances in the always-upcoming elections?

Then, what is the solution?

Free him.

Just free the Prime Minister from partyocracy.

Let us directly elect the prime minister.

(Introduce presidential system. If we want to ape every other behaviour and trait of the US, why not this also?)

Imagine, if the Prime Minister is directly elected by us, he will be directly accountable to us and will not have anyone else to blame for his failures and misadventures. More importantly, he will be able to make decisions, without any fear of, at least, repercussion from the party.

Secondly, there won’t be divided loyalties. He will have only one constituency to look after – the country. I always wondered this about people of a VIP constituency – whom do they approach at times of emergency.

More importantly, an elected representative will not have to toe the party line on major issues. Take for instance the dilemma of the following MPs.

What would a CPI-M MP from South Tamil Nadu do, when the party decides to censure DMK’s stand on Mullaiperiyar issue?

What would a Congress MP from Telangana region do when the party’s central high command is silent on separate statehood, while the region is burning?

What would MPs from the North-eastern states do, when they are part of the government, which turn a blind eye on the atrocities by the armed forces?

Very importantly remember, the recent embarrassment the Maharashtra Chief Minster had to endure after he had to withdraw an announcement of ‘Marathi-must-for-taxi-drivers’ after his party’s central leadership reacted against it.

Imagine if the MPs were not bound by party lines and could just speak, work and vote only for welfare of their constituencies. Wouldn’t it bring more people to politics then?

In 2002, within a period of a few months, A P J Abdul Kalam, who had already attained an iconic status, was catapulted to the Rashtrapati Bhavan, because a certain party with majority wanted a candidate other parties would be afraid to oppose.

Five years later, he was as good as hurled out, because no party was interested in him.

If we had had a presidential form of government, would Kalam have needed the support of BJP in 2002 or the Congress in 2007 for his election? Wouldn’t the people across the country have rushed in large numbers to vote for him?

Not just Kalam, people would have voted for Manmohan also similarly, and who knows, to some extent, even for Advani in northern states.

But see the ignominy Advani, who was the Prime Ministerial candidate less than a year ago, has to face now. Within a year of the election, he had to make way for ‘youngsters’ and is not the leader of the opposition anymore. This can happen only in partyocracy.

For us also, wouldn’t it be better? We would have to consider only factor while voting -- the country during the presidential election and our own area during the MP election, or the state during the CM election – without getting confused whether my candidate will help in forming a government at the centre or whether he will work for our constituency.

We can then stop voting for parties and start electing representatives who will work for us and not anyone nominated by a dominant party. Hence, people with political aspirations will have to start building a base for themselves, instead of depending the party, like certain MPs who switch constituencies for successive elections, depending on their party’s strength there.

Political parties will then serve as unifying factors that bind people with common ideologies or goals and discipline and check them.

And we would know specifically whom to throw the eggs at!

Love? It's complicated

2010-02-19T08:29:00.000+05:30

Why would anyone in love read your article on Valentine's Day? They would be busy lost in each other and wouldn't want to know about what the world thinks/doesn't think about love, remarked a recently-married friend.

Oh yes, the exception may be if I could write on 1,001 ways to fool Muthalik & Goons or may be perhaps 1,001 ways (even 101 would do) to get laid, he added, now with a sarcastic smile to me, a single.

When I asked a friend, single, trying very hard to mingle, he said: Lucky were our ancestors. Love in the time of struggle and war was easy . . .(sentence deleted, lest the office is set ablaze) It worse than might have been easier during the “time of cholera”, but in the era of Google, Facebook and Orkut, it is very complicated.

The problem starts right on the night you meet her at a party, and upon returning home you beer google the name. You see a blank space where the relationship status is usually, and are left perplexed. Can't wait till morning to know further details, you wonder why she is hiding the status, becoming by now a master in logic and calculating the possibility of her going out with any of your friends, or having a childhood pal, affair with a married man… and god forbid what not!

But worse are those with the ‘complicated' status. See that word and first thing you want is another beer, to clearly get more confused: Is he going to dump her? Wow, then I not only stand a chance, but have a reason to get close to her. But … but why is he dumping her… ( No worries, we will hit it off.. like Shah Rukh and Kajol in all KJo films! Please, please, don't remind me of KANK)

However, what if she is planning to move on? Yes, who will stay with that creep, see how he dresses and keeps holding her hand (one more beer please, let's celebrate. Have found a potential you-know-what). No, may be she has found a new boy (Beer please, I can't digest this) Good that, we don't see many with the status: Open relationship. While Facebook stops with just ‘open relationship', Orkut goes one further and has this to offer: ‘Open marriage'. We need to appreciate them for stopping with this. Okay, accepted that Facebook has a last option called ‘widowed' and you want to know what happens to those ‘divorced'.

The worst situation was when a week after meeting an ex-colleague at a party and finding her more attractive than ever before (you guessed it right, she smiled at me from across the hall, and while at the dessert table, asked me: ‘How are you') I went back to Facebook. And suddenly it was if I had run into a wall. Her Status: Married to Anita.

God! How could she? Why didn't anyone tell me that before? Is it why, her smile seemed very natural, it was as if four of Karan Johar and Tamil actor Vijay's films being screened on the walls of a room and me alone sitting there. Simple: Nothing makes sense. At least Orkut has a section asking for sexual orientation! But… But…

Only recently, I learnt about the trend on Facebook where singles show their status as married to close friends.
With Google, GPS and every other new technology, as finding excuses to approach girls is becoming more difficult by the day, just when we thought Facebook and Orkut are cool avenues to meet up new friends, the relationship status spoils everything.

Could someone please do away with the section? For us, ignorance is bliss. Certainly better than a little knowledge.
And yes, what about the few rare girls, who seem interested in me? Apparently, they get put off by the blank space in the relationship status in my profile.

(Read it on Sify.com)

Porn not a problem

2010-02-11T02:47:00.000+05:30

Recently, the chief justice of India, K G Balakrishnan, brought back to focus a very important affecting the virtual world. While financial fraud is a big threat to those doing business online, the spread of hate messages could threaten the peace and harmony of any country.

But pornography? The one thing that has left the cyber space divided is his emphasis on the need to ban websites that exclusively circulate pornography.

Now, for any government to plan any such ban would be a very bold move and would require strong reasons to defend it.
Because, voices can be raised against pornography only on moral grounds, and any such protest would be confronted with the question: ‘How can anyone else decide what I can watch?’ And how can the government preach on morality when it is yet to provide basic amenties to hundreds of millions of people to lead a normal life?

More on the moral factor later. First, what would constitute pornography, for several of the Hollywood movies involve not only frontal nudity, but also scenes of sexual acts? And banning such movies would only deprive the Indians of very good quality movies.

And I wonder what purpose banning of websites that exclusively circulate pornography would serve, for most of these sites charge for access to the content. Since owning a credit card is not easy or simple in the country, trying to stop someone who is more than willing to spend in dollars to satisfy his/her voyeuristic desires would be a herculean task, and send them in search for other avenues.

More importantly, once these videos are released, many of them are circulated through emails, which will be very difficult to stop.

Agreed that morphing and sleazy videos taken through hidden/candid cameras not only invade people’s privacy and wreak havoc on their lives and they have to be dealt with seriously. No person in his/her sense would endorse such acts, for they are violation of a person’s basic rights.
But porn does not necessarily mean home made videos. And in fact with proper enforcement of laws, they should be checked.

Otherwise, pornography is just yet another commodity, certainly not a service. And what is wrong in that, or how does that affect any person’s life, when it is regulated?

It’s hard to believe that we are in the same century as Copenhagen is in, where the sex workers recently took on the city mayor. After the city council sent postcards to hotels urging guests not to buy sex, the sex workers offered free sex to anyone who produced the offending postcard to them.

This is freedom in the broadest sense.

There are countries where prostitution is illegal, but pornography is not. And our country has reached a stage where it be debated if prostitution should be lagalised. Then it would be very ironical if we think of banning pornography websites.

Like strict enforcement of prohibition has often seen rise in the consumption of spurious illicit liquor, banning of porn websites could only rise to other media.

And anti-porn proponents who want to cite exploitation as a reason, should answer to themselves whether the migrants labours working at construction sites and in hazarduous conditions have taken up the job williningly, or are not being exploited?

And if we want to end expoitation and trafficking of women, the government should strive to make their lives better in the rural areas.

Doesn’t banning pornography for fear of exploitation sound akin to asking women to not get married, because a majority of women suffer domestic abuse in marriage?

Worried about the welfare of the actors? Then the government should not just leaglise porn and prostitution, but empower them. In fact, then it will be easier to monitor porn for and check pedophilia , morphing and even videos taken through hidden cameras.

However, For the viewer, it is just yet another programme watching online. And a person who has access to personal system or has the knowledge and money to access these content online, does not need to be dictated on what is good or bad for them.

In the absence of sex education, a society which looks at the western countries with awe and wants to ape every act of theirs, but has not or is not able to, porn gives a good ground for the youngsters, and even married couples to some extent, to explore and free themselves.

At the end of the day, isn’t it all about roti, kapda and sex?

We deserve an explanation, Mr Sibal

2010-02-11T02:42:00.000+05:30

Just a week after he stressed on the need for universities to de-affiliate colleges to grant full academic and financial autonomy to them, Union Minister Kapil Sibal announced a plan to abolish deemed universities. This came a day after the government decided to de-recognise 44 erring deemed universities without any notice to them.

Besides the point that the announcement shocked urban India, which finds private deemed universities as the next best option to IITs and foreign universities, the question that comes to a discerning mind is about the differentiators between colleges with academic and financial autonomy (whose exams will not be conducted by any university but a special board) and deemed universities(whose status entails them autonomy in deciding courses, syllabi and teaching methodology).

So, except for the fact that deemed universities are mandated to take up research while the minister wants the state universities to concentrate on research, one fails to differentiate between what he proposes to have and what he wants to do away with. Or is he just interested in the nomenclature?

Let’s not forget that some of the deemed universities that face de-recognition now were founded around 10 years ago. It was certainly an error on the part of the government to have accorded the deemed status without scrutiny. And after that mistake, what purpose would it serve if the whole system is abolished, instead of tightening the screws?

If Kapil Sibal is concerned about the kind of research being carried out in these private institutions, this only juxtaposes with his eagerness to woo private sector in research. While on one hand he opposes deemed universities, on the other, he invites private sector to invest in education. So does he expect the private players to play a donor role, expecting no return on investment?

Let’s look at his take on higher education – leaving primary education for future. He wants to abolish exams for Class X - reminiscing his education in the US decades ago when they were allowed to take the books to the exam hall - but proposes to set up a body to conduct exams at university level! Isn’t doing away with written exams the next step after open book exams, at least at post graduate level, as companies conduct their own tests during recruitment? And all this, with no reference to arts or other educational streams.

Amidst all this drama, Sibal travels abroad to ink agreements with foreign universities and wants many top-notch institutions to set up an Indian arm. But how will such satellite campuses benefit Indian students or even themselves? How will these acclaimed universities with their exorbitant fees structures be able to offer courses at a lower cost? If not, how would our students gain? And of course, a local base would deny students of exposure to the best minds and facilities that they get at international campuses.

I am not against good institutions coming to India, but against students ending up with degrees from good universities without quality education. And does the minister think that private institutions from other countries are not corrupt, but only ours are?

All these bring to us the main question: Who will benefit from these initiatives? There is reference only to technical education and foreign universities; so what about other streams? Has he forgotten that most Indian population still wants good quality education and not just degrees - both in arts and science and not just technical courses? Or does he think that only professional courses constitute higher education? If not, one would like to know what he plans for the higher education system in the country, rather than ad hoc announcements.

Read the article at Sify.com

Nine Lives: William Dalrymple's timely search

2010-02-11T02:34:00.000+05:30

The further the great Indian middle class moves away from organised religion, the stronger spiritualism and religious philosophy seem to become in the Other India.

William Dalrymple discovers this from the lives of a young Jain nun who sets on the path of ritual fasting unto death, a prison warder who is untouchable for 10 months a year but is worshipped for the remaining two months when he becomes a Theyyam dancer, a married woman who leaves her family to spend the rest of her life as a tantric near a cremation ground, and other similar, strange stories.

To the Western reader, Nine Lives, Dalrymple's first travelogue in a decade, offers an insight into the pagan cultures popular in the different corners of the sub-continent. Especially about the numerous deities that are still worshipped, while the ‘Ram'-ifaction or nationalization of Hinduism is on in urban India.

"It is like applying to the village sarpanch (headman) -- rather than asking the Prime Minister," says Mohan Bhopa, one of the last hereditary singers of a 600-year-old Rajasthani poem, about worshipping their local deity Pabuji. The 4,000-line poem, The Epic of Pabuji, is about the tale of the local deity's heroism and is recited only during night.

The travelogue follows the lives of nine people and their view of guilt, atonement, desires and death.

In the first story, the Jain nun gives up her family and desires; plucks her hair taking the diksha (ritual of initiation) and years later, sees her close friend take Sallekhana - a fast unto death.
In another story, a Tibetan monk who breaks the monastic vows to take up weapons to defend his religion, spends his last years printing and selling prayer flags to the pilgrims there.

In telling their stories, the writer has ensured that he is not judgmental and lets the characters speak for themselves. For, these nine people follow very different and even contradictory paths.
While the Bauls "seek to channel the mysteries of sexuality and the sexual urge as a way of reaching and revealing the divinity of the inner self", the Jain nun's efforts are to shed all "attachments in this illusory world".

So, does India still offer any sort of real spiritual alternative to materialism, or is it now just another fast developing satrap of the wider capitalist world? Though Dalrymple finds an affirmative answer to this question, it seems to be only a matter of time before these unique cultures become history.

Except for a few like the Bauls, most others seem to have taken the path of spiritualism as a result of socio-economic conditions.

The life of the Lal Peri Mastani, a lady fakir at a Sindhi dargah in Pakistan reflects the harsh realities the lower class people and local culture face. The fakir is in fact a triple refugee -- first as a Muslim, she is driven out of Bihar to East Pakistan; then in 1971 from Bangladesh to Pakistan; and finally as a single woman taking refuge in a shrine in Pakistan. And now the Sufi shrine itself is facing threat from the Taliban.

Similarly, Yellama in Karnataka is dedicated to god as a Devadasi (temple prostitute) so that her family could get some money. Though Yellama hates this, she ends up initiating her two daughters into the same system years later -- both of her children die of AIDS.

The tales themselves show how these cultures and practices are entwined with the social class and systems. Only women from the lowest castes become Devadasis now, while Dalit men get an opportunity to be worshipped by the upper castes by becoming Theyyam dancers.

On the other hand, Mohan Bhopa, the singer of epics, and Srikanda Stpathy, whose family has been making idol of gods for 700 years, insist their work is hereditary. As a result, there are no couples left to sing the epic of Pabuji in Rajasthan after the death of Mohan, and Srikanda doubts whether his son, who is interested in computers, would carry forward the family tradition.

In search of the sacred in modern India, celebrated writer Dalrymple stumbles upon cultures that are dying due to the dominance of mainstream religions. Or in other cases, no one is interested is practising them because of social stigma or because not everyone who is interested can afford to do that.

Will Dalrymple or any other writer be able to revisit these practices 25 years from now? Unlikely.

In this sense, Nine Lives is a very timely book that tells Western Indophiles what is still left in the country, and cautions those within of the threat faced by local practices and cultures.

Read the review at Sify.com

Anyone but Manmohan

2010-02-10T21:51:00.000+05:30

Read it on Sify.com (Written during the run-up to the 2009 Lok Sabha elections)

In a country, where around 70 percent of population lives in rural areas or below poverty line, how many voters would want an economic policy that keeps them waiting for the benefits to trickle down after the high and the middle classes enjoy them. For, the policies propounded by Dr Manmohan Singh – a man who never went to people to get elected as their representative -- first as a finance minister and then as the prime minister, have focussed on the upper strata of the society, while farmers’ suicide continue in the country.

Do we want such a Prime Minister back in office again?

NREGA, a bane

Firstly, how have the welfare measures announced by the Manmohan-led UPA Government like the National Rural Employment Guarantee Act or the farmers loan waiver scheme helped the targeted beneficiaries?Even if the NREGA promises to provide the beneficiaries with job for at least 100 days a year, in the long run what is to happen to these people?

Continuously engaged in road laying or desilting or other such work, workers would, in the long run, end up depending on this work, without any scope for learning any skilled labour. This just goes against theaxiom: Give a man a fish; you have fed him for today. Teach a man to fish; and you have fed him for a lifetime.

Let people not come up in life and instead continue to depend on governments for life. They make good vote bank!

Or, how far has the NREGA been successful in its reach as there have been innumerable complaints of beneficiaries not getting the full wages.

And what is to be said of an economist, who advocates a scheme which waives the loan farmers have taken from banks, when the people in trouble are small farmers who have taken loans from local money lenders and are unable to qualify for loans from banks.

Domicile of Assam?

Even as the country fights corruption and to bring accountability in every arena, Manmohan Singh prefers to enter Parliament through the Rajya Sabha, claiming to be a domicile, not of Punjab or Delhi, but of Assam, where who knows when he domiciled. And yet many want him to be elected as the next prime minister.Whatever it means!

No trust in allies

In the epoch of coalition politics, Manmohan and his team do not seem to trust their allies, even within the government as many UPA member parties looked ignorant of the whole Indo-US nuclear deal process. Ifthis is a parliamentary form of democracy, then shouldn’t all parties of the Government have been kept informed, while there was a outcry outside parliament?
May be Manmohan Singh, dealing with the US, forgot that we don’t have a presidential system, wherein he and his team could take decisions, without taking anyone else into confidence.

Hold over power

The whole world talks of decentralisation of power, but our dear Prime Minister would not let go his post even when he is admitted to hospital for a month, and Pranab Mukherjee – or anyone else-- has todischarge the duties of the prime minister, but not as acting Prime Minister.

If this was not decided by him, but the party, is he such a weak personality who cannot have a say over managing his portfolio even? No wonder he is dubbed the weakest prime minister.

Opportunist

What else do we call a Sikh Prime Minister, who inducts Jagdish Tytler in his ministry? A man accused of inciting and leading riots against Sikhs in 1984, Tytler is a member of the Congress.

Even Deve Gowda, as the head of a government formed by many regional parties, could refuse ministerial berth to corrupt politicians. But Dr Manmohan would accomodate and embrace anyone to retain his own seat.

Saviour of middle classManmohan Singh’s can claim that this his schemes helped the 300 million strong Indian middle class, but more number of people continue to live below the poverty line and over two third of the population isin rural areas. So, do these people not count?

Or, if there has to be a prime minister, for whom the financial markets and international relations come first, then followed by the party politics and his power, and then the middle class, letting the poor and rural people to wait to let the benefits trickle down, why do we need a democracy?

A dictator would suffice.

Writer who masked angels

2010-02-10T21:33:00.000+05:30

As a young girl, she was flung between states, and even countries, before she completed her education. She took her first steps in a West Bengal kindergarten. And went on to study in five schools, including one in Saudi Arabia where she had to wear a headscarf.

Any other child may have been traumatised by the need to adjust to new cultures and people every few years. But not author Jyothi Menon. Menon, a qualified engineer, turned to human relations — a term she prefers to human resources — because of her passion for people.

Her latest work, The Angel of God, was released in Chennai on Friday.

She says if the child is a keen observer, her canvas will have large sprinklings of various colours that may find an expression in art form.

She found in poems the medium to paint her thoughts, and even earned a fellowship of the World Poetry Roundtable as a student. However, her first three published works were non-fiction books on human-relations — The power of Human Relations (2004), Brand-Wise (2005) and Me, a Winner (2006) — and the fourth a novel.

“When Pearson (publishers) approached me, I was surprised as I am not an MBA from any top business school, but accepted the offer.” That was The power of Human Relations, with a foreword by Nasscom president Kiran Karnik. As a result of this, The Angel of God, which had been conceived by then, had to take a backseat with only the research going on for it.

A letter from the then president APJ Abdul Kalam impressed with the statement "creating a brand of an organisation" in her book led to her second work. “We have framed that letter from the president and it remains a prized possession for us,” she says with excitement.

Soon within three years, she had brought out three books, all without taking any break from her hectic schedule as an HR manager, even as the research for the novel continued.

“Writing is something I always did and enjoyed, so it was not very difficult,” she says.

Now finally, The Angel of God has been delivered. Though Jyothi says she worked on the novel for seven years, it is also a painting of her observation of the places she had visited and is influenced by the events witnessed by her. But the book is more about transformation in life and the different masks people wear and the angel inside everyone.

She tries to clear the air that though the novel revolves around crime and the central character Moosa Bhai is a criminal, this is not about crime or bloodshed.

One reason the story involves the life in Mumbai is “during the Mumbai riots, (she) was struck up on the way to the city traveling from Pune, during college days”. Her husband, Bobby had also witnessed the riots. So the criminal world has been used only as a background and also to underscore better the idea that everyone has several faces and can be an instrument in transforming others lives.

The three characters -- Moosa, Bhaskaran and Abubacker — also show different kinds of lives and their influence on others. And to nail home the point, the book cover has an illustration of a blood soaked umbrella with blood dripping and three persons in the background.

However, she quickly adds that the book neither tries to glorify crime nor justify it. Also the story is not spiritual or religious, and just stresses only on the transformation of lives and different masks people wear.

So, when asked how she managed to come out with books without taking breaks, the mother of an eight-year-old girl says, as if quoting from her book, “There are different hats to wear and one does not come in the way of the other. We just have to find time.” Certainly, since she is already working on her next two books, one of them about a story of a goldfish.

Read the story on Sify.com

Meet the Indian Sherlock Holmes!

2010-02-10T21:25:00.000+05:30

“There is a madman in India called Vikram Singh who does not know the value of $12m.”

This is how a defrauder, who fled to India after robbing close to $ 24 million from a handful of banks in Singapore and was arrested, described private detective Vikram Singh who is fondly called India’s Sherlock Holmes.

Recalling the case, which involved four months of trailing the criminal, Vikram Singh, Managing Director of the Lancers Networks, one of India’s leading detective agencies, says, “He offered me half of his money to let him go. But I rejected saying, ‘Only God can decide whether a man should be rich or poor’.”

Vikram has been running his intelligence company for corporates since 1980 and was recently honoured with the lifetime achievement award in intelligence and investigation by Union Home Minister Shivraj Patil. He was the first risk management professional to receive the award.

He was honoured as the ‘Investigator of the Year-2006’ by the World Association of Detectives and won the ‘Best Investigator of the Year-2007’ title from the World Investigators Network.

In 1980, when even multinationals were yet to enter the country, the Indian Sherlock Holmes set up his intelligence company in New Delhi for corporates. Ask Vikram why he opted to open an intelligence company, pat comes his reply, “Information gives you power. I knew the future lay in this and that no company could afford to ignore the power of information, as it plays a key role in making strategic decisions.”

Vikram’s company, Lancers Networks, provides service in collecting information, protecting own data and investigating frauds besides helping in taking decisions.

Corporate intelligence has taken a 180 degrees change since we started, says Vikram. “It’s a Rs 5000-crore industry today whose 60 per cent of the turnover comes from IPR and counterfeit cases. In today’s world, companies cannot even survive without the intelligence, forget about growing,” he adds.

For instance, while launching a product, if a company fails to choose the right set of vendors, the whole exercise may turn out futile. So, proper information and background check about the vendors before selection is crucial.

Corporate Intelligence also comes in handy in detecting fakes and sometimes even a new business opportunity, says Vikram. Once his team of sleuths tested Scotch whiskey bottles bought from various places such as Mumbai, Kolkata, Bangalore and New Delhi. They found more than half of them were adulterated. This discovery influenced United Distillers to enter India as they saw a market for genuine Scotch whiskey in the country.

The key factor in this business, says Vikram, is ensuring that a company’s data are not leaked out. To make his point, he cites the Channel 4 sting operation on data selling in Indian BPO.

Two years ago, the British channel had conducted a sting to expose how financial records of thousands of Britons could be obtained from Indian call centres, creating a scare.

“In such a scenario, data protection is the prime concern of BPOs and other such companies. In such places, private detectives play an important role,” he says.

“We are the CBI of the corporate world,” adds the former intelligence man, who was in charge of the security of the ninth Asian Games held in New Delhi. In 1987, he also became the first “Blackman” to be elected as the executive director of the CII.

Talking about detective work for personal cases, such as pre-marriage verification, Vikram says importance is given to ethical issues. Attributing the recent spurt in personal cases to the emancipation of women, he says, “Since women are now equal to men, there are conflicts of judgement. So we not only do conduct probes, but also counsel the couples, wherever needed.”

What about the private snooping on couples with the aid of spycams? “We cannot withhold any information from the spouse. There is no question of privacy when it comes to us. We see it as an investigation and help in getting the information.”

However, such personal probes are not conducted blindly, Vikram avers. The intention of the client is also studied.

Recounting the Personal Point case, in which a girl was murdered, he says, Subhash Gupta approached Lancers to verify about Sujata Saha, an executive of Personal Point, claiming that his brother wanted to marry her. But when Vikram Singh became suspicious and confronted Subhash, a married man, he admitted to being in love with the girl. Vikram tried to dissuade Subhash, but in vain. However, on Sujata’s birthday, Subhash came up with a request to suspend the investigation and precisely, on the same day, the girl went missing.

In this instance, Vikram went against his client and helped the police to trace Subash. “In fact, there is no conflict with the police in any of the cases we handle. We approach the cops when any arrests have to be made,” he says.

Isn’t this a risky job? “The trick lies in adopting the perfect modus operandi after doing a SWOT analysis,” he adds with a smile.

Talking about his company’s prospects, Vikram feels that most companies would need their services for their survival in future. In fact, several companies have even set up special departments for this, headed by intelligence advisors. However, since these employees do not have the expertise the private detectives have, they depend of organizations like the Lancers.

And thanks to globalisation, with more foreign companies opening up in the country, the work scope of companies like Lancers seems to be doubling every year.

Certainly, the future looks bright for the people who avoid being in the limelight!

Read the story on Sify.com

26/11: Let's speak up

2009-11-28T01:01:00.000+05:30

So, don’t be quiet. Speak up. At least I would, for the most vulgar advertisement I have seen in the recent times, calls on people of the country to speak up, and puts the onus on its subscribers to help it donate for the Indian police.

But what do I speak – whether Kasab should be executed or whether the government failed to protect us or whether we are ready to tackle another such terror attack or worst of all whether we should attack Pakistan and annihilate it once for all?

Let’s save the quintessential five ‘W’ for a later time and indulge in hypothetical questions that must be answered in yes or no – only these make for interesting pastime that would strain our brain to reason out the dirty truths which will only put us in shame, that too only if remember some word that spells conscience.

Still reading?

Then just tell me one simple answer. Do you think Kasab is a terrorist? I don’t think so. At least I don’t think that the person in jail and whom Abbas Kazmi is defending in a special Mumbai court is a terrorist. For, if he is the same one who we have been seeing in the clipping taken from a CCTV camera taken during the Mumbai attack on November 26, 2008, what are we trying to do? Anyone who follows news and is not a Pakistani would have certainly seen the man in the clipping had gun in his hand and went around killing people. So he must be guilty.

But the court trial is still on.

In that case, have we been for the past over 300 days trying to prove whether the gunman on screen and the one in custody is the same? Else, if the government/police has confirmed that it is the same man, what have we been trying to prove or argue for so long?

Or are there still some people who think that Ajmal Kasab, an LeT operative from Pakistan, who was caught while on a killing spree, can be innocent and that by some mass illusion, we have misconstrued him to be a terrorist and caught him.

Or is it that we, being descendants of those who believed in ahimsa, don’t want to hang a man and so want to let him meet his natural death.

Because, otherwise it would make sense to me if he is in police custody and the sleuths are trying to get some valuable information from him through interrogation. But then, that is not the case and he lives (no more an ordinary unimportant soul that he was till setting foot on the shores of Mumbai) in a jail where his life is cared for.

But then, I am not saying hang him tomorrow. Just that convict him as early as possible and let him languish in a jail amidst bandits, serial killers and rapists, who would taunt and spit on him while passing by (let me stop and let your imagination fly high).

But punishing him would only end one chapter and not prevent another from happening. So, whom do I blame next (This is one thing we are very good at, for we don’t believe in doing anything, but just pointing fingers at others. Will come to this later).

What has the government done in the last one year to avert recurrence of such a mayhem? When the terrorist used planes, security was tightened at airports. Then when they targeted trains, we installed metal detectors at stations and posted police personnel to trains. And when the crowded places were targeted governments across the world started installing CCTVs at all public places. And finally when terrorists made use of the sea route, we started beefing up security along the coasts.

And then what the security agencies would do is in the name of conducting mock drills perform precisely an exercise that could have prevented the last attack.

I always thought intelligence agencies were supposed to be one step ahead of the enemies. But world over it seems, all that they are doing is carrying out the work of solving crimes. And follow the path set by terrorists.

Intelligence agencies? Oh no! The lesser we talk about them, the better it would be. The autopsy report of the RAW was published by the New Indian Express in a five part series last week, identifying the murderer in each of the report. If that is the real condition of the premier agency -- and worse, it is so pores that one could write a series – it inspires little confidence in the minds of the people as to how safe they really are.

But why blame them, when the people who really use them as puppets are the political powers that count. The great ruling class. If we were to go in for a reality check now, we would see that during the first anniversary of the country’s worst ever terrorist attack – as claimed by the recently sprouted news channels that the self-anointed voice of the middle class – the Prime Minister is on a tour of the US (No, Obama did not assume office before last year attack), while the President is busy Making a record flying in a Sukhoi on the eve of the first anniversary of the terror attacks. So neither of them visits Mumbai for the first anniversary of a national tragedy, but the Home Minister has all the time to give Live interviews to TV channels. (I always wondered whether politicians, actors and other celebrities gained something – if so how – by leaving all other work and making appearances on TV channels that won’t reach even one fifth of out country’s population. Why else should they contribute their services to increase the revenue of these channels watched mainly by the minority English-speaking middle class?)
Oh, yes, the third most important person, although only theoretically, the leader of the opposition in the House of the People, Lok Sabha, was very much available.

But, he, being a seasoned politician, made sure that he used the occasion to the fullest advantage. The fact that he prepared well and confronted the government in parliament Thursday on non-disbursal of compensation to the victims and their families, makes me wonder why he waited till the first anniversary to raise this question. Or, is it that he thought it was more important that the government was put on mat rather than the people get the compensation!

Wasn’t it his responsibility towards the people that the moment he learnt about this failure on the part of the government, that he should have called up the home minister or any other minister concerned and asked him/her to ensure that it is done by the first anniversary – it should not have been difficult to process the whole thing overnight.

But then, as Aristotle said ‘Every country gets the government it deserves’, what we are putting up with should also be a result/creation of our actions and attitudes. Because, thought a party that has in reality got only a minor share of votes in the election, forms government, are not playing a major role in its formation and sustenance?

Now, let me not get into the age-old rhetoric about our role in electing a proper government, lest you close the page. But our attitude? Now we take great pride in saying that Mumbai (or any terror struck city) never stops. It just paused and was on feet again. Others may take pride in this, but to me, it sounds very insensitive and derogatory.

Not caring about how the city was left maimed and how hundreds of people who lost their kin in the attacks is gross insensitivity. And if the city can just pause and wait for its people to recover, why would the government or others care for it, except for showing symbolic gestures, like on this first anniversary.

And remember, if we want others to care for us, we should be caring, sensitive to others – something that is missing in the world today.

So, isn’t our attitude, forget actions, the root cause for all these. Two small would explain everything.

Recently I was talking to a friend about how a real estate agent – they are colloquially called brokers – got upset and angry because I called him a broker. Immediately, my friend asked: ‘How else would you call a broker, when he is one?’

I had to ask him if it was ok to address him by his caste name. Only then it dawned on him, how even innocuous sounding words and actions can hurt people.

And today, in my office, some of my colleagues took the bag of a friend and hid it somewhere. Finally only after having some fun, and even some snacks, at his expense, did they return his return the bag. But, this was not the first day, and had played the joke on another guy yesterday and worse, they want to try it on someone else tomorrow also.

It may be fun to us and the onlookers, but for the one at the receiving end? In fact one of their friends have reduced meeting these guys during tea time, because of a similar prank they played on him two weeks back.

While narrating this to me, one of them said: “Sir, we have to make sure that these guys don’t join hands and gang up against us. Because if they unite, we are into trouble.”

Good. He understands that.

And wish everyone understood that how our individual actions and attitudes can be perceived as group behaviour that can be interpreted as being racist, communal, oppressive or even xenophobic and lead to tensions.

How is this related to terrorists? You may ask … but don’t you see tensions emerging in the Red corridor? Or didn’t you see what happened in Lanka till recently?
What may start as fun can lead to far more serious things, from which there may be no return.
But, hey, wait! Am not saying we are the reason for all the ailments of our world. However, are we sure, we are no way to blame for silly actions -- this may even allude to blind love for our caste/religion/language that may make others feel vulnerable or to evading payment of tax that could cripple our government or even to not following simple laws if not to our apathy to those in trouble -- that could contribute to the growth, spread and strengthening and growth of extremism?
Who cares! Pick up the phone and speak as the TV ad says or just SMS to TV news channels or better cheer for BCCI's cricket team and prove your love for the country.

Kurkure Desi Beats presents Rock On with MTV : Promo - 2

2009-09-01T01:26:00.001+05:30

Kurkure Desi Beats presents Rock On with MTV : Promo - 2

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43 minutes a day?

2009-08-14T04:30:00.000+05:30

Oh! What a relief. The reports are about a survey, as also the analysis of it, done in the UK.

Reading the words ‘ogle’ and ‘ten women’ a day, I somehow tripped past the place of the study and was furious to abuse whoever was behind the report.

Imagine what would have been the figures, had it been in India.

43 minutes a day? And that too at an average 10 women?

And it makes just 11 days a year.

Then how did they arrive at this one-year mark? For, they have calculated for the years between the age of 18 and 50.

To put it in a nutshell, when I was in college, we could ogle at 15 pretty girls for one hour in just 40 minutes. Unfortunately, our English and Hindi lectures used to last only for 45 minutes.

We were just 17 then. Long before that, we would have got into this habit.

Ask any man, who was the first women he gazed at, and don’t be shocked if he names his school teacher or class girl – was it in class five or six? Or even before that?

Now, the numbers have only increased. And I am yet to see one sexagenerian (now, why do I like this word?), who does not ogle. Come on, they have earned all their time to be free … to ogle. What else do we expect them to do sitting idle?

While the 43 minutes sounds really incredibly small, the 10-women-a-day makes me wonder whether the study was conducted in some forsaken desert.

It just goes above my head, as to how one would not ogle at all the women standing or sitting in front of us, or passing by us. Even those riding a bike.

However, the study is not clear whether it is just gazing at real women or even those on screen.

Ask my colleagues, and they would assure you that in our work place, you can look at scores of PYTs, even keeping your eyes closed. And how could you not gape at them.
Or rather, would it not be an insult to their beauty, if we don’t?

At this juncture, being in India, I don’t want to talk about the moral high grounds that our gazes should not affect the women, and vice verse – which every sensible person would accept and doesn’t need to be told.

Waiting for what I have to say about women looking at men? Obviously, the more the merrier.
Damn the report, go ogle!

the closest i could get to God

2008-10-10T00:27:00.000+05:30

What does one do when, after traveling for three nights in bus and trains, without proper sleep or even taking bath, gets down from train at Howrah station on a Sunday morning, and wearily looking at the burgeoning crowd near the Howrah Bridge, realizes that it is the first day of the Puja, but can spend only half a day in the city?
Faced with such a situation, I crawled out of the station, looking for a decent place to eat, but found nothing more than dhabas all around. On intuition, as I followed the wave of people walking, in a hope to find something, it dawned on me that the most beautiful place in the city is where Mother Teresa lived.
Tired, hungry, sleepy and desperate to get fresh – and now the realisation that I would never be able to forgive myself if I don't visit the Mother's place. But how? More importantly when – I have to be at the airport by 4.15 pm -- since after looking at the Hooghly bridge, I just can't walk away without crossing it by foot? And between these, I had to take a print of the ticket – remember it's the first day of Durga Puja.
So, I check in to a hotel and step out just in an hour and a half after only taking bath and recharging my mobile phone. Soon, I also got my ticket and then reached the Bridge.
Taking a stroll there, as if the whole world can wait, I wondered how it would feel if I could climb the bridge. Alas! Even photography is not allowed there.
Thus, a little after noon, my quest began. But, like a pilgrim that is usually not smooth, obstacle started to appear. None of the persons I approached was able to give proper directions. While one reacted as if he had never heard the name 'Mother', another only scratched his head, only to make me ponder how many people near Chennai central station would be give the address of the Theosophical Society. But Mother Teresa in Kolkata?
Also, what a dumb-ass I was that when I called up my brother, asking him search for the address – and he a great, in turn, only tried to contact his friends and not browse the web – it didn't strike me that I had Internet in my phone.
Finally, a blessed soul told me it was in Salt Lake area, but was not sure where. That was enough for me, I thought, and decided to take a bus. But which bus? Most of the buses are destinations written in Bengali.
All seemed allude that the path I had chosen was going to be challenging one.
Should I get political to describe the buses there? A red old rickety one that instantaneously reminds one buses rural India stereotyped in foreign novels or our old films. As if confirming it, I even saw an old man pulling a rickshaw.
Near the bridge, with the help of a young man, I got a bus. Inside, when I inquired the educated-looking middle age woman sitting beside me, she said in good English, “Do you have the correct address? Salt Lake area is very vast. I have been living here for more than 20 years, but don't know many places here.” I got the answer – a testing time lies ahead.
Blank as a slate, I got down somewhere in the area where I could spot some youth. They should have been some professionals or college students. As fate would have it, they were clueless and suggested that I take the help of taxi drivers of autos. But even they gave only a stare.
A taxi driver agreed to help me, but at a cost, and we started asking people around. As we approached a family in an auto, a young school-going girl among them told us the exact location.
Another success. I got into the taxi and started dreaming about the place, while the driver maneuvered through the streets as if on a treasure hunt.
After some 20 minutes, I got down near a big gate with “Missionaries of Charity” board. Outside, I saw two sisters and greeted them. They returned a pleasant smile and said I could visit the Mother House, a few yards away.
Hurray! It is just 2 pm and I have at least an hour to spend there.
Thanking them, I took the final few steps towards the building, not ready to wait anymore the step in where the Angel of Help once lived.
But how could it be so easy for me? So, at the door I was told that the House would open only at 3 pm, after the lunch break. As if to emphasize that there would be no concessions, a sister even pointed to the board.
Then how will I go around and still reach the airport around 4.30? And what do I do for the next hour?
Now second thoughts started creeping in as to whether I should hang around and return at 3, taking the risk of getting struck in traffic on the way to the airport afterward, as the roads were getting crowded it being the first day of the Puja, or simply put off the plan to enter the Mother House to a later date, when I could have a lot of time to spend.
Trying to delay making a decision, I went for a lunch of tandoori roti in a small shop, and all the while asking people how far was the airport.
I walked around, looking at pretty girls and old buildings -- as if from a small hamlet I have suddenly landed in a city -- and even helped a blind woman cross the road, all the while not sure what to do next. When only 15 minutes was left, and I neared 54A Lower Circular Road, a taxi driver said it would take an hour and a half to reach the airport, as dark clouds enveloped the city, raising fear whether the visit would cost me my flight journey.
The clouds changed everything. Suddenly, I decided to take the risk, only ready to shorten the visit.
Immediately, the dame luck smiled at me. A group of college girls, who seemed to be on an educational tour, got down from a bus and trooped into the House.
Thank you, God.
Though 10 minutes is left for 3 pm, the House opened, and I joined the bandwagon and at last entered the place, where Mother Teresa lived and prayed. Perseverance paid.
With obeisance, we removed our shoes and entered the place. At the entrance, near the notice board, but hidden behind another wooden board, a wheel chair was kept in a glass case, with the title “my gari”. This was the chair the Mother used during her last days and she called it “my gari (vehicle)”.
Inside, as the girls prayed and gathered around the Mother's memorial, I went to the other end of the hall and saw a small wooden prayer kneeler (or desk?), I wondered whether it was used by the Mother.
Being in the hall, was as if I have moved into totally a different realm of the universe. I felt peaceful and the silence in spite of the bunch of girls. How I wish I had been alone or among a smaller crowd, to cherish the atmosphere, without being conscious of myself.
Though I have been to a lot of temples and churches, this was totally a different kind of experience, where you don't know how you feel. Was she God? Or human? Or both?
I went around for a few more minutes, not looking at anything but lost in myself and my thoughts. Since photography was not allowed (officially), I didn't bother to take any snap. But as I came out, I made sure I took the snap of the sign by the door. A board with Mother Teresa's name, which, beautifully, indicates she is in.
Then, not even turning back, I rushed out, caught a taxi as it started raining. Taking the bypass road, which at some stretches was already filled with water, the taxi driver tried to go as fast as possible. And when I reach the airport, it was 3.45.
What? All the hurry for this? Wish I had spent more time there!

the difference: they write, i want to

2008-10-08T00:45:00.001+05:30

How come people write about so many things? Or rather about everything that is, but also about that is not, as well that will be and may be, forget about things that have been.What makes them write? Is it only meant for some intellectuals to write or can any Tom, Dick and Harry indulge himself in this art – then, is this an art or just a way of venting out what lies dormant within us – as art needs imagination?

Then, my good friend, SAK, a great copy editor, may say, "Guru, anyone can write. Yaar. Even you! Why don't you give it a try?"

Wow! According to him, EVEN I can write. And why not TRY? Well, what have I been doing all these days?

The instant answer is with the Engineer Babu, a smart chap who has some idea about almost all things, except engineering. He would say, "Come on man, not everyone can write. It needs talent and whatever written should have a class. It is not an easy thing. But yes, you can write."

What, I CAN WRITE? Dei, I asked a simple question and did not seek this answer.

If these are not the answers I was searching for, what is it that makes some prolific and, more importantly, better writers?

Does writing require special training such as courses in creative writing and fiction writing offered by some universities and the one done by Kiran Desai or a lot of hardwork (read research) for the genre of writing indulged in by people like Amitav Ghosh, or is it just something innate, for while Truman Capote joined the New Yorker when he was just 17, Gore Vidal started his writing career at 19?

In today's world, where nothing can be taken for granted, no doubts an aspiring writer may prefer studying about writing if not for learning to write, at least to know what his/her style is called in literary parlance and to know about other popular writers. Research comes only in the secondary level, after one has actually started writing.

But I am struck now, not having any clue how to proceed further. God! How that great grand old man of Indian Writing in English still manages to write in his nineties.

May be that is the difference, it is something within him or that he is living every moment of of his life, knowing what exactly he wants, while I am just a wayward. A wayward who does not know where his happiness lies, while he and others like him know exactly what gives them joy – writing – and know how to express themselves. In simple words they want to write. For, they know penning is the purpose of their life -- initially, undaunted whether they are accepted to not, and later understanding that it not about telling stories, but showing and recreating a new world.

Take for instance, Gabriel Garcia Marquez. It is a legend that he started on 'One Hundred of Solitude' after having a vision, while he and his family were their car driving, that he had to tell his stories the way his grandmother did.

This no way can be understood that there was a divine intervention, but that he finally realised the way, he had to write. For, everyone has a story to tell, but not a style or narrate, as the trick lies not in saying what we want but in making the readers see and imagine – not just understand – and experience what is in our mind.

This reminds me of a scene in the film 'Monster in Law' wherein Jlo asks the hero what colour is her eyes, and he goes on beautifully describing them in the colours of brown to green, and thus flooring her.

Hence, may be after relishing the beauty, they yearn to share the experience with others, so that even they could experience it again just by reading their description. Why else would they write, if they don't want to read again?

So does it boil down to this: They, like all of us, have a story to tell, and want to tell, more importantly ready to narrate -- the passionate ones show – and can't rest till they do it, while we – I and my friends – just are not sure of anything, right from whether we have a story to whether we to tell and if yes, how?

So, I blog.

boxing in olympics?

2008-09-09T01:34:00.000+05:30