onlyforshreerang

31st

2008-08-31T18:27:00.002+05:30

I have never had any memorable birthdays. Surprisingly, I have slept off early every 31st of August, looking forward to another year. The resolutions that I have made each birthday have been washed away like sand castles are on a beachfront.Painstakingly made over several hours with utmost care and shaped with passion.

And this year -- it's been one of the best that I have had (atleast till 6:40 pm ! ). I woke up late, but had a good time doing my daily regimen of yoga. The afternoon was surprisingly good. I got a chance to watch "Rock On !". A simple movie about how we make sand castles and then kick them without even giving them a chance to brave the seas. But then, you need one person to again start collecting these wet lumps and fashion them into castles once again.

I have never built any castles, but this movie has given me the hope that if I decide to build some and breathe passion into them, life will ensure that they will withstand the furious waves that it creates. I just need to hang in there .. hang in there - things will work out.

A new profile

2008-08-30T22:24:00.001+05:30

I dislike cities and I dislike commotion,

I dislike people who talk as if there is no tomorrow,

I dislike scheming individuals.

I like quiet and green places,

I love spending Sunday afternoons sipping tea

and reading books.

I like writing and do pen down my thoughts

when I get the time to do so.

I love traveling in the countryside and observing

local cultures.

I like observing the idiosyncrasies of people.

I can spend hours in reveries imagining how I would

change the world.

I have lived my life for a quarter of a century.

For the most part I have lived someone else’s dream.

Unfortunately, to live my own dream I need to first have one.

And dreams are seen only in a deep slumber.

A deep slumber – how I wish I could have one !!

Cut off from the world and free of remnants of the old dream.

I plan to travel across India – from Kashmir to Kanyakumari

and from Arunachal to Bombay.

And then I’ll write my own “Motorcycle Diaries”.

It will be a journey of a lifetime – undertaken by few

and understood by none.

If you are still reading this and think that I am a

Che Guevara or some intellectual in the making,

then you are grossly mistaken.

I have a propensity to talk rubbish and sound intelligent only

when I am afflicted by seizures of madness.

The rest of the time I live my life like any other

-nameless, faceless and aimless.

Deep within a voice tells me that I am

destined for greater things.

But then that’s going to be a tough life.

And I love the pleasures of my current life.

I throttle this voice like I would squash a mosquito.

And continue with my existence.

But I have killed too many of these mosquitoes.

They keep haunting me in my sleep.

Hopefully, they’ll frighten away the vagabond in me,

And help me discover a new life.

Amen.

The Tamasha

2008-07-24T23:14:00.002+05:30

I enjoyed every moment of it ! For two days I was hooked on to ibnlive and ndtv - keeping a track of the trust vote and theprojections for vote splits. Like most Indians I do not understand the finer details of the nuclear detail. Neither do I believe that we require the deal to secure our energy sources. If the government tries to curb distribution losses and also the theft of electricity I am sure that we will be able to satisfy our energy demands. If we crack down upon the coal mafia, we might be able to extend our reserves by some more years. New deals cannot be a substitute for inefficient use of resources.
But then, I wanted the government to survive. It had done nothing spectacularly bad to warrant its removal. The economy was growing and by and large there was status quo as far as most of the indicators were concerned. By signing the deal, my country's sovereignty was not being compromised ( I understood that part ). The general elections were due in little less than a year's time where the Indian electorate would showcase its amnesia. Right now, I want stable governance, I want actions to curb inflation and I want some real economic reforms. If the government had lost the trust vote, it would have meant nine months of bickering and communist overdoses. I was amazed to see how a faint ray of seeing her Prime Ministerial ambitions getting fulfilled galvanized Mayawati into action !
Well, Rahul Gandhi's speech was not spectacular. I do not think it deserved all the praises that it got. Dr. Manmohan Singh spewed venom and I loved it. That man had set us on the path of economic reform and for too long his quiet demeanor was taken as a sign of weakness. I think people underestimated his resolve and what a fitting reply they got ! Laloo was at his lovable best. He has perfected the art of buffoonery and knows how to take a dig or two at hs detractors without being vociferous. He uses humor to inflict sharp wounds - wounds that can only be felt by the victim and not seen by anyone. Omar Abdullah was passionate. He spoke from the heart and I was happy to see him lambasting the 'secular' parties. Wake up people -- the politicians of this country thrive on creating communal divides. They would never like communal harmony - would they ? Wouldn't they lose an effective instrument of garnering votes ?
I am no Congress supporter. But I was happy to see them winning the trust vote. At least it spares me the tantrums of all the Communists and their wannabe allies. And also ensures that I work for the next few months and not track the Breaking News tickers on ibnlive and ndtv.

Random Thoughts

2008-07-09T00:01:00.001+05:30

It was a ritual for me. Every year I would travel to Pune – my birthplace. I could never condition myself to like Maharashtra in general and Pune in particular. In fact when my relatives would ask me which city did I like more – Pune or Calcutta I, with a straight face, would answer Calcutta. In spite of its filth and indiscipline I loved Cal. It exuded warmth like no other city. I loved the din of the markets and the tin sheeted buses with the wooden shutters that would prevent any sunlight from coming in.

I continued my love affair with the eastern part of the country well into my college years. I studied at Kharagpur and loved every moment of it. It was a small town with the IIT driving its economy. We were the kings of that place and feared no one.

But those were different times.

I started working three years back. I left my innocence in the cozy environs of IIT Kharagpur and stepped timidly into the corporate world, unsure of what was expected of me. I had not seen much of India except for Pune and Nagpur and I saw India through the eyes of my friends at IIT KGP who seemed to come from all parts of the country. I remember asking a friend from Srinagar how the city was like and he would describe the beauty of the Valley – another would talk about the prosperous fields of Punjab while the third about the sights and sound of B’lore.

In a matter of few months I traveled across the breadth of the country. I tasted the first JP miles and eagerly awaited my upgrade. I started maturing and also started looking at things with a different lens. My travels continued unabated. I have had the opportunity to work in Bihar for two years and also stay in grand hotels. I have spent time on the banks of the Ganges in Haridwar and in Munger. And every moment spent away from Cal has been a revelation for me. I came to know the India that loved to work. I have seen poverty in Mumbai and Kolkata. The difference was in how people dealt deal with it. Mumbaikars would want to work their way out of poverty. They were proud and hard working. In B’lore, the peon in the office was smartly turned out – clean shaven, decent clothes. And in Calcutta people would love to display their poverty. Inherently lazy and undisciplined they would stall all signs of progress. They would bask in the glory of their wretchedness. They would take five years to build a flyover and celebrate it as an accomplishment.

I am not ignoring the fact that the rest of India is also corrupt, if not more than West Bengal. But the basic difference is that the corrupt will extract their share but will also allow work to happen. No wonder people migrate from Bengal in such huge numbers every year.

I have started disliking Cal. It is steeped in lethargy. And things seem to get only worse. I have not been charmed by the materialistic delights of the other parts of India, it is only that I have actually come realize what India is capable of, which Cal in all these years prevented me from realizing.

Just trash what all the critics say about the new B’lore International Airport. Take a car and drive on the road that connects the airport to Hebbal. Your heart will swell with pride at what India can do. And if you are a Calcuttan you’ll grow green with envy.

The Vodafone Ad

2008-06-04T15:12:00.001+05:30

There has been a significant shift in the world of televised advertising. Gone are the days of the ‘80’s when the product took centre stage during 10/20 second commercials. Today, companies connect with consumers by capitalizing on personal experiences and the storyboard ensures that the experience is the primary feature of the advertisement. Why this sudden sermonizing? A few days back Vodafone captured my imagination with the cute advertisement about the helpless girl whose fountain pen runs out of ink and then her friend helps her out. No jazz, no skin, no models, no over decked Indian housewives – and the ad still worked.

The kids were outstanding. I loved the setting of the advertisement. A classroom setting where kids in middle school are furiously writing their answer scripts. The teacher dressed simply in a sari and going around collecting papers. And the killer - a sincere student, ostensibly the topper, running against time. My heart broke when her pen ran out of ink and she started frantically looking around for some help. And then the knight in the shining armor comes to her rescue - a little boy who is writing his exam in a carefree manner when he spots this girl who needs help. He extends a helping hand and releases a few drops of ink on her desk – enough to last her for a couple of minutes and complete the paper. There was nothing fancy about this activity, but what stole the show was the transition in emotions on the girl’s face. From amazement, at being helped by a mate who she never regarded as of much use, her face showed delight at the thought of being able to complete her paper. And then comes the Vodafone product that needs to be sold.

Such advertisements reflect a distinct change in the psyche of the product manufacturers. In a market where the customer dictates the rules, companies have started talking less about the product and more about the customer’s need. In jargonistic terms they are listening to the Voice of the Customer. It is a refreshing change in the way that business is being conducted. And I do not mind – as long as they continue to make ads that I love !

That's My Seat !!

2008-05-31T12:52:00.001+05:30

19:15 Hours : My car screeches to a halt outside Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose Airport. Shucks.. The heat has deprived me of two liters of water and even a pig would smell better. The driver hands me the requisition slip and like a dutiful manager I fill out all the details like closing km, time etc etc. I get out of the car and survey the departure area. Not much of a crowd.

19:16 Hours : My body is craving for nicotine. I take out my packet and light the cigarette. Before my car speeds away I flick the matchbox back to my driver to save myself the embarrassment of having to fish out the inflammable item at the security check in. As I take a long drag, I see a No-Smoking sign – Do I stub out my cigarette? No way .. I join the gang of ten other offenders who are desperately puffing away.

19:19 Hours: A yellow cab halts in front of me. And out comes a cute looking girl – and the predatory male in me starts surveying his prey. Hmmm.. nice figure, good sense of dressing and a great perfume. But then I belong to the race of those shameful losers in their mid twenties who like starry eyed teenagers keep gawking at girls. I look the other way and send a silent prayer to the heavens –“ God forgive me for all those sins that I have committed. Can I get to sit beside her in the flight? “

19:21 hours: A smart looking fellow asks me if I am taking the Jet flight. I say yes. And then he whips out his hand held terminal, punches a few keys and asks which seat I want ? Suddenly that girl appears .. and I see her proceeding towards the counter .. Shit, I should have been at the counter ..The only Jet flight that’s going to take off in the next hour is the Mumbai one … I would have heard which seat she was taking and then ….. What the hell … I think I am the world’s greatest sinner .. - . I look at the guy -- why the fuck did you have to see me ? Well, my brain is working over time and is on the verge of over heating – and then he says –“Sir, which seat do you want? “ .. I want to chop off your head … Then I do some quick calculations – hmmm.. girls usually like window seats – gazing at the city lights and squealing in delight .. I decide to confront the laws of probability once and for all … and I say “ Middle Seat” – “ But Sir – I have aisle seats – 10C “ – “ Middle seat” .. I say firmly. Probably this is the last time he would see a passenger taking a middle seat so easily .. he gives me the boarding pass. – 10E

19:35 hours: I have never prayed so fervently. Even the Gods are being stirred from their yogic sleep. Like a hawk I scan the waiting area and Voila !! I zero in onto my prey. She’s beautiful .. a mole on the upper lip .. I am going weak in my knees. And she’s reading “The 3 Mistakes of my life “. I feel like walking up to her and telling her – “Ma’m I just made the first mistake .. I should have checked in at the counter.” Hmmm… I am planning my move. I’ll take a cup of coffee and sit beside her and then start off a conversation. In a few minutes I shall have enamored her with my charms and got her mobile number. She looks distinctly Bong. Petite .. Hmmm.. Have I finally found my match?

19:38 hours: The waiting area is sparsely populated. What will she think if I go and sit beside her? And a voice inside me says .. Abe hero .. chance to le…
In twenty seconds I am sitting beside her. She does not even look at me. She’s engrossed in the book – Page 43. No ring – Good. And then that weird mobile blares the Airtel tune .. and she’s whispering into the phone. I want to snatch that mobile and throw it into the dustbin.

19:45 hours: Time’s running out. The call ends. My cup’s empty and I am going to make the first move. And then that sound Beep Beep – Beep Beep. THE SMS. And she’s smiling. I am going to cut off the fingers of the guy who’s SMSing her.

20:00 hours: I have given up. With my tail between my legs I walk to the security check in area. Thankfully the metal detector does not detect anything alarming. Thud Thud … The security guy stamps my boarding pass and deems me fit to board the plane.

20:10 hours: I am among the first passengers to board the flight. I am on 10E. And I am grumpy. I sit like a school kid who has not been given his daily quota of candy bars. There is a steady stream of passengers. And then I spot her… She’s walking towards me.. I wait with bated breath. And I am again praying. She has come close and then she gives me a nice smile – no girl has ever smiled at me like that – ‘Hi ! I think you are sitting on the wrong seat. “I have gone blank. I am staring at her.. Gosh ! She’s beautiful .. “ Helloooo…” I am back to my senses. This is the moment to floor her. I fish out my boarding pass and show it to her. “But 10E is mine.” She smiles at me. “ That’s fine… But you are sitting on 10B ! That’s my seat !” I look up at the seat indicators … She’s right .. And the world comes crashing down ! I smile sheepishly at her .. pick up my tail and sit on 10E. I am still shocked. And then the killer .. There comes a handsome dude .. sits on 10C and before I can blink my eyes he’s started talking to her… Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr….. Now I want to kill him.

20:15 hours: I am praying to ghost of H.G Wells asking for a time machine. I should have taken 10C. Me and my smart brain. Probability theory – trash it. I look to my left. They are talking like long lost friends… I close my eyes and slap myself a hundred times. Me and my fate.

( This work of “art” is dedicated to all those males who scan the railway reservation charts looking for any F 23’s sitting near their seats. This is also dedicated to souls who are JP Platinum Card holders and yet when they enter the airport they have only one prayer on their lips .. “ God. Forgive me for my sins. Can I get to sit beside a nice girl ??? “ )

911

2008-05-26T19:06:00.000+05:30

8:55 AM : Munch Munch Munch .... If you were to look at me having breafast on a weekday you would think that I had just come from Somalia. The speed with which I am eating is faster than those souls who taste food after months of fasting. That seconds hand on my watch is moving too fast .. and why does it move slowly when I am in office.. What the heck.. I need to get it repaired !!
8:57 AM : The speed's doubled ... Newton's Laws of Motion in full flow -- Chomp Chomp Chomp .. I pick up the steel tumbler and guzzle half a litre of water in one go !! That should wash away everything in my throat. Well, even the flush is more efficient.
I polish off my plate and look at the roti with eager eyes .. Even the stray dogs are not so greedy. Anyway, I decide to end my breakfast with a wee bit of hunger still left.
8:59 AM: I am going to buy a pair of slip ons. It will save me 30 seconds of precious time. And yes, I need to polish my shoes or they are going to be hired by one of those shoe shine companies as exemplars to test the effectiveness of their shoe creams.
9:01 AM: Four yellow taxis all lined up ... Bastards ! When you need them the most they are not there. I am not going to spend the money on them today. Huff! Puff! Huff! Keep walking mister… with the 5 kg laptop hanging on my shoulders I look like a special forces commando. The difference is that under that weight my back has bent like a bow!
9:03 AM: I pass the cigarette shop. No No No … I am going to be clean. Hmmm.. Even Adam and Eve could not resist the lure of apple, and I was not even created by God. One stick’s not going to make a difference. I go to the shopkeeper, buy the stick and dutifully go to that jute rope coiled around a nail that’s been hammered into an old tree .. yuck .. the first drag tastes of burnt jute .. Misers .. they can’t even afford to spend 10 bucks on a lighter !
9:07 AM: The burning end has almost reached the filter tip! And I have 100 meters to go. Yuck chick … why can’t someone tell her that she is not made to fit in those denims. When Mr. Lee and Mr. Levi made them they had the Size Zero in mind ..
9:09 AM: Aaahhh .. The metro station. That’s the cleanest part of Cal. Took them twenty years to build. And thankfully people have not turned it into a garbage dump. There’s no queue at the ticket counter. I take out a five rupee coin and decide to play carom with the guy at the counter. Flick .. the coin speeds across to him. With one finger he stops it. Then slides it to one side .. “ Four Bucks” .. He punches a few keys, plays carom with a one rupee coin and throws the ticket to me as if he has calling out “Rummy”.
9:10 AM: The metal detector cries for a policeman to come. Hmmm.. they would sell well as scrap. The access gate is working – and I am running down the stairs. The weighing machine is lit up with bulbs of various colors. Two bucks and see your weight. I was 62 a week back .. and I have been running for fifteen minutes instead of ten. Suddenly I feel lighter. ( Hey .. what about those 5 mangoes that have crept into your daily diet .. Shhhhh.. that’s a secret ! )
9:11 AM: The train comes in .. The doors slide open .. I move in .. listen to the sing song voice announcing the next station and drift away into the darkness along with the train.

Cal

2008-05-22T14:31:00.001+05:30

Cal is a lovely city, but it is a city trapped in the memories of its past. The colonial hangover still remains and I daresay that if the Queen were to visit the city, her cavalcade would be greeted by a million people. One day, leaning on the railings outside Oxford Book Store on Park Street, I was puffing away to glory in the company of a dear friend of mine. Suddenly our eyes went up to a coat of arms on the shiny red board that had the name of the store written over it. In one corner, a coat of arms declared that the store was by some royal appointment to some XYZ who belonged to the court of the Queen. Sixty years after independence - and a bookshop proudly displays its English connections. I am no rabid nationalist, but it still rankles when we do not derive our identity from being Indian. And that too in a place like Cal.It hurts to see that this magnificent city is not able to realize its potential. A city of nearly a crore, but still not able to make it big in business. Any attempts at getting investors in are mismanaged by over zealous officials. The interesting part is that a lot of large Indian companies have a lot of Mr. Das' , Mr Chatterjees and Mr. Roys in their top ranks, but when it comes to working in Bengal they are paralyzed by lethargy and indifference.I have been born and brought up in Cal. I have seen the city transforming. But a few malls and multiplexes do not characterize the work ethic of a city. Wake up, wake up -- or you'll be left far behind the ambitious Ahmedabads, Chandigarhs and Punes. But when you do wake up and decide to do something -- don't lose your charm. Because that's what sets you apart from the rest !!

Dada

2008-05-09T10:04:00.003+05:30

There is something special about him. Everytime he walks out to bat to the centre of the Eden Gardens he is greeted by a defeaning roar. A roar composed of voices of varying pitches that synchronize to set the stadium on fire. The din created is loud enough to be heard in the vast tracts of the Maidan that lie to one side of the Eden Gardens. Well, Sourav Ganguly does not have an unenviable batting record in front of his home crowd. It seems that the burden of 80,000 expectations does distract him. But the average Bengali is forgiving. He never loses faith in sons of the soil of the Hooghly. It is this faith that has kept the "Prince of Kolkata" going. It is this faith that has given him tremendous self belief and arrogance. And on the 8th of May it clearly showed.
Ganguly does not believe in mincing words - not even in front of the mighty Australians. He rubbished their strategy of mental disintegration and took the verbal duels to the Australian camp. He has a penchant for backing youngsters even in the face of stiff opposition from the mandarins of the game. He must be credited for bringing in some great players during his captaincy - Yuvraj, Harbhajan, Dhoni, Sehwag. He forced Rahul Dravid to don the gloves so that he could give depth to the batting line up. During his captaincy the Indian shed off the tag of "Tigers at home and mice away" to notch up some scintillating overseas wins. In a matter of years Team India had shed its fuddy duddy image to emerge as a strong force to reckon with.
Ganguly often uses his gut feel and intuition to take decisions. His 'devil may care' attitude helps him to trash conventional decisions. And yesterday he showed a glimpse of that. By the time the commentators had finished brainwashing the viewers into believing that the captain winning the toss should opt to field, Ganguly had walked to the pich , had won the toss and elected to bat - much to the disbelief of the 'pundits'. Well, thats 'Dada' for you. His 3 over spell brought back memories of his Toronto campaign where he had used him goldern arm to devastating effect. He choked the Royal Challengers with his deceptive pace and his celebration after having taken Dravid's wicket was a treat to watch.
Ganguly's resurgence may be a trifle late in the day for the Knight Riders but I do not care. As long as Dada keeps leading his 'black and gold' armoured army there is hope for me and also for the crowd of 80,000.

New Age Sport

2008-01-30T09:51:00.000+05:30

‘When young boys do not get to fight wars, they love to sweat it out on the playing fields’
-- Anonymous

Over the years commentators have argued that sport is an extension of war. It involves two opponents slugging it out against each other, using strategies to attack, counter-attack and outwit each other. But what makes it even more interesting is that unlike the wars of today where there do not seem to be any rules that restrict the execution of strategies, sports are regulated by a set of rules that are framed with the concurrence of participating nations. They are expected to adhere to not only these written diktats but also respect the ‘unwritten’ traditions and compulsions that have risen because of the nature of the game.

However rules can only seek to control physical jousts – they fall severely short of regulating verbal duels that are part and parcel of every game. What is worrying is that the nature of these verbal duels has changed dramatically over the years. In the days of the gentlemen these verbal exchanges were limited to discussions about the weather and the friendly banters that were meant to distract the players, but with the advent of the Generation X’s and Y’s these discussions have degenerated into discussions that raise doubts about one’s paternity, class, race, spouses and color. With the human race becoming ultra competitive the desire to excel has become so intense that players are willing to cross the thin line between mental distraction and mental disintegration. One cannot but draw a parallel between the eighteen day war of the Mahabharata and the way games are played today. In this ancient war the code of conduct a warrior was expected to adhere to was openly flouted which resulted in a cycle of retribution that ultimately led to the downfall of young heroes on both sides of the conflict. Similarly, players today are willing not only to break the ‘unwritten’ code of sportsmanship but are extending the boundaries of these conflicts to the realms of the print and visual media. Planned press conferences are held where players are provoked, stories are penned in gossip columns about where a person slept over the previous night and financial muscles are flexed to hound opponents into submission.

Practitioners of these strategies argue that players need both physical and mental toughness to win a game. Accepted, but if the physical attributes of the game can be controlled by a set of governing rules isn’t it time to sit down and verbalize the extent to which these mental wars can be fought. As a race, we are an aggregation of several civilizations, and what may be acceptable to one part of the world may be frowned upon in another. It is one’s duty to respect these sentiments and behave according to them. Steve Waugh had rightly commented that the recent spat between India and Australia over the Harbhajan-Symonds issued needed to be examined from the frame of reference of cultural compatibility. Indian television commentators were arguing that even if Harbhajan had called Symonds a monkey there was nothing wrong in that because in India the monkey is venerated as a divine being. What they failed to realize was that in Australia being called a monkey is an instance of racial abuse. As they say the root of conflicts lies in our inability to appreciate the stand taken by our perceived opponents and it is this ignorance that may cause all games dearly.
It is high time that all governing bodies take a proactive stand in neutralizing any further occurrences of verbal abuse. I did not like it when Zidane butted an Italian player in one of the World Cup finals. But then if his culture regarded one’s inability to respond to taunts about one’s lineage and tribe as a sign of dishonor was it correct on his opponent’s part to provoke him into action, either knowingly or unknowingly? As the world progresses there will be a rise in instances of racial abuse because of our inability to accept inter-racial and inter-cultural mingling. It is necessary for us to examine this in detail and ensure that at least in sport a game is played in all fairness and it is one’s talent, skill, determination and perseverance that decide wars between two sides.

It is lonely at the top

2008-01-23T18:10:00.000+05:30

It was an arduous climb up the rocky mountains,
As we negotiated the steep slopes and the hidden crevices,
We were a team of four in that magnificent journey,
The seers had said it would take a lifetime to reach those dizzying heights,
If we scaled the mountains along its southern side,
The Northern Side would take us there in a flash,
But we would find no joy in that climb.

The night before we sat around a fire,
Thinking about the dawn we would see tomorrow,
As the first rays of the fiery sun appeared in the distant horizon,
We pledged on the holy fire – The Southern Side it would be and only death would do us apart.

The journey was long and difficult,
We saw the four seasons a countless number of times,
The cold numbed our fingers and the heat sapped our reservoir of energy,
But every night when we would retire we would sleep in the hope of reaching the top.

There were tigers and hyenas along the way,
That we fought and defeated bravely,
And every time the vultures circling in the sky,
Would return hungry and tired.

The sun would create enchanting mirages,
Of beautiful maidens and exquisite wines,
But the wisdom among us did prevail,
When we saw them sitting atop a monstrous abyss.

The pinnacle was within sight and our energies multiplied,
As we progressed faster than ever before,
But then the arguments broke out,
Who would reach the top first?

We let the sticks decided for us,
And I drew the shortest one,
And then the others said – ‘The Divine One has spoken
It is your turn to be there before us and then bring us up.’

As I set my foot on top of the mountain,
I was numbed by the surge of joy,
The pain in my limbs disappeared and the scars on my hands dissolved at once.
My reverie was broken by the call of my mates,
Who asked me to haul them up,
I gave my hand to one of them and as I touched his flesh,
I felt the bile in my mouth.

I do not know what happened then,
As I left his hand and opened my tattered bag,
From that I drew my grandfather’s scimitar,
And cut the rope that had held us together.

I looked over the edge of the peak,
And saw my mates hurtling towards their death,
When their skulls struck against the stones that we had conquered,
Their eyes and mouths were wide open.

I saw the vultures descend on their bodies,
And feast on them for a fortnight,
Then those vile creatures flew up to me and said,
‘You are our master.’

From that day I have lived on that peak,
All alone with that scimitar,
The vultures tell me of invading parties that have escaped their clutches,
And I stand on the edge of the peak.

I throw giant boulders on the puny men,
The ones from the North disperse easily,
But the Southerners are tough rugged men,
And I enjoy myself as I draw my scimitar,
And chop off those hands that reach out to me.

I have grown old and frail,
A walking mass of bones,
All alone at the top.

My skin is losing its color, but my scimitar shines through the night,
As I look at the red sun in the west, I see a horde of vultures approaching me,
And I say to them – “Oh worst of the avian creatures – It is lonely at the top”
My legs start sagging and my scimitar falls away,
And through the night I see the vultures feasting on my legs,
And before they pierce my eyes with their talons they say –
‘Nay Master – we are here for company.’

The Morning After

2008-01-20T23:59:00.000+05:30

‘She looked beautiful in the red zari lined sari that she had bought from a budding designer a few days back. In a week of hectic shopping she had allowed her feminine instincts to take over her heart and had indulged herself with expensive jewelry and waistbands. For a change going out with ma was so much fun. The boardroom meetings that she chaired were not so interesting anymore. She was looking forward to a life of pure marital bliss in New York in the hands of a handsome investment banker, his educational pedigree equal only to her own. She had faint memories of him in IIT and then in IIM where he was a year senior to her, but it was only when they had recently met at a banker’s convention in London that their relationship had grown stronger. In a whirlwind courtship that lasted only a week they explored the highlands of Scotland and visited the castles of England. And they on a cold winter morning while they were savoring a breakfast of fish ‘n’ chips on a restaurant boat on the Thames he took out a glass case in which was the most beautiful diamond ring that she had seen.

As they took their rounds around the golden fire she glanced at his face. His lips were pursed tightly which meant that there was something bothering him. Maybe, she thought, he is wondering if the honeymoon plans are ‘risk free’. She often chided him for his constant preoccupation to ‘derisk’ all important engagements. After the priest had finished chanting all the verses they stood up and walked to take the blessings of the family elders. As she bent down to touch her father-in-law’s feet she saw them moving away from her. As she stood up she found that there was a frown on her father’s face.

After the guests had gone, she waited for him in a room decked with roses and orchids of different colors. She had dreamt of this night for so long – since the time she was read her first M&B .. He soon came into the room, looking a lot disoriented. As he walked towards her she could see his fiery red eyes and smell alcohol in his breath. Before she could say anything she saw a liquid being splashed on her and the only sensation that she could remember before passing out was her skin burning.

The next morning she was woken up by the wails of her parents. Her father told her that her marriage had been annulled since he had not been able to pay the dowry demanded by her husband. Her father had transferred all the money in her back account to her husband but he wanted more. Her to be husband had lost all his financial holdings in the sub prime crisis and he had contacted her father and demanded a hefty dowry failing which he would refuse to marry her.

She looked out of the window and at the morning sun and wept. She had been teased about her ‘morning after’ by her sisters but little did she know that she would be lying on a hospital bed, with a scarred face ,penniless and with aging parents to care for.’

-- Shalini Joseph has just finished recording an interview of Preeti Sharma who has been accused of murdering Nishant Malhotra outside his house in Chandigarh. The case has brought to light the prevalence of dowry even amongst our urban elite and the inability of our society to deal with it.

Animosity

2008-01-18T15:58:00.000+05:30

As human beings we are designed to belittle the achievement of others – more so if they are of our peers or subordinates. We are so consumed by our narcissistic tendencies that our ability to appreciate greatness that is achieved by those who exist beyond our sphere of influence diminishes greatly. In the wild, the lion constructs an imaginary boundary around his den and attacks those who dare to enter this domain. Analogous to this, we too construct such boundaries in our minds and dare one cross this, the defensive mechanisms of our body take over. Think of the time when you were questioned on a subject which you consider yourself to be good at? If this question negates what you have said earlier you would most probably put the questioner on your private ‘black list’. You probably will harbor ill will towards him and go to the extent of berating him in public.

Animosity is a defensive mechanism that is embedded in our emotional system. One of the instances when it rears its head is when the subject’s existence is threatened since he considers his locus of being to reside in that object which is under threat. All the religions of the world instruct their followers to overcome this feeling of attachment since it lies at the root of this phenomenon.

Animosity also results when our peers achieve more than we ever dreamt of. The law of karma has a balancing effect since it gives one only what he deserves. Our failure to recognize the importance of this causes us to question the abilities of others and question their integrity and capability.

Another interesting aspect of this emotion is that its origin lies in the achievements of people who we believe are either our peers or our intellectually or physically inferior to us. If the same degree of success is achieved by those who we accept are superior to us it manifests itself in a feeling of awe and admiration. Ergo, our ability to classify people around us as either ‘somebodys’ or ‘nobodys’ is an important criterion in the origin of animosity.

Animosity prevents us from learning and appreciating new schools of thoughts and stunts our intellectual progress. We fail to learn from the good done by others and incorporate relevant changes in our own lives. (Isn’t that ignorance? ).The NIH or the Not Invented Here syndrome is a euphemism for this deep rooted negative energy that resides within us.

Examples: The TATA success story evoked praise from the South Asian press but the American media took potshots at the ‘Nano’. Similarly in the ongoing India-Australia cricket series aggression by the Indians was viewed as being against the spirit of the game whereas the same attitude when displayed by the Australians was classified as ‘hunger to win’.

The Nano

2008-01-17T16:29:00.000+05:30

Very rarely do we achieve what we dream of,
And even rarely so do we execute an act that would make the world remember us for when we have departed for the Hades,
I wish I had lived the life of Ratan Tata ,
The proverbial underdog, the one who loved to prove people wrong,
So that I would humbly accept the accolades showered upon me,
And then return to my hearth all alone and look into the fireplace,
And live my life a thousand times.

George Bush Jr. had labeled his saga of retribution in Afghanistan post 9/11 as “Shock and Awe”. But what shocked and awed the world was a work of socio-mechanical engineering envisioned and executed by a band of men owing their allegiance to an inspiring leader. TATA motors and Ratan Tata did the unthinkable – designing a car that would sell for a lakh and yet meet the basic needs of any automobile owner – Quality, Safety, and Environment Friendliness. They say that Ratan Tata was moved by the sight of a family of four riding on a scooter on a rainy day getting drenched and yet braving the inclement weather to reach their destination. They say that Gautam Buddha was moved by the suffering of mankind and when his charioteer could not answer his difficult questions he renounced the pleasures of the royal household and spent years in deep meditation trying to understand the cause of human suffering. Well, Ratan Tata went back home and thought deeply over it and in 2004 announced to the world – ‘My team shall give you a car that costs Rupees One Lakh’. His competitors rubbished him, his critics questioned his mental disposition and the aam aadmi dismissed it as yet another grandiose promise that would remain unfulfilled.

But the man was made of sterner stuff – after all wasn’t he the one who had turned around a loss making NELCO in the 70’s? Wasn’t he the one who had unleashed the Indica from the stables of TATA Motors? The man kept quiet and so did his team. It seemed as if Ratan Tata was fulfilling the great TATA dream of touching the lives of people. In the mid 1990’s there was an advertisement of TATA Steel which showed a family of three holding hands on a beach and - looking into the sea and it simply said – “We also make steel”

Yes, it is too early to write paeans of praise for this unassuming industrialist – but this man has showed that it is it ain’t no wrong to be born in India. The Americans are pissing in their pants – asking themselves ‘Why didn’t we think of this ?”. Come to think of it, after Henry Ford the Americans have not contributed much to the automobile industry. The Japanese lead by Toyota took the battle to America when cheap, reliable and efficient cars almost wiped out the local automobile industry. And then came Ratan Tata ---

The Changing Nature of Conflicts

2007-12-26T09:36:00.000+05:30

A hundred years back wars were fuelled by territorial ambitions and also the desire to assert one’s nationalistic identity. Examples of these include the Russo-Japanese wars and the Anglo-French wars fought in the early 19th century. The Second World War has brought about a paradigm shift in the causes that lead to an armed clash between two sides. What made the Second World War interesting was that the Axis Powers, who were primarily blamed for territorial aggressions, had their own reasons for fighting the Allies. Hitler with his brand of Nazism and racial superiority joined hands with Imperial Japan, who were looking to spread their wings and assert the Japanese identity, and Mussolini who had invented Fascism that valued nationalism, militarism and anti-communism.
This marked the beginning of an era where wars would be fought on the basis of ideologies that would be derived not only from socio-economic beliefs but also from beliefs in religious, cultural and racial superiority.

The Korean, Vietnam and the Afghanistan Wars were showdowns between communist and capitalist regimes while the Arab-Israeli conflicts were fought between Zionistic and Islamist cultures. The Islamic Fundamentalists started gaining ground after having tasted success in Afghanistan where the Communist ideology was defeated by a combination of religious fervor and capitalist interests. The 1990’s saw a radical breed of Islam gaining currency across different sectors of the world where people were mobilized in the name of religion and the dream of establishing a pan-Islamic rule. This was also the era when conflicts were reduced in size and increased in intensity and most importantly were fought within boundaries and not across them. The most notable among them would be the Kashmir Separatist movement in India, the Chechen struggle and most importantly the Taliban movement in the Afghanistan theatre. The 9/11 attacks, the London subway bombings and Mumbai blasts also served as reminders to the respective governments that the rules of engagement for these conflicts had changed significantly wherein civilian targets could be attacked without provocation.

The new millennium has added a new dimension to the cause of wars. In a recent speech the Prime Minister of India mentioned that the Naxalite movement was the single biggest threat to the internal security of the country and must be crushed. This movement has its roots in the economic disparity that is prevalent in certain parts of the Indian Territory. Although the Indian Economic success story is touted in various world forums it is an accepted fact that the Indian growth story has been an unequal one. The distribution of wealth is changing dramatically that could potentially lead to the disappearance of the Indian middle class that has served as a realistic and achievable aspiration in one’s quest for a natural economic progression. With the non-existence of the middle class the differential to cross in one’s lifetime would only be too great by which time it would have grown even wider. Currently these wars are being fought in the rural hinterlands of the country but I foresee a future where they might also be fought in the urban areas where people who earn a million rupees a month live alongside those who earn less than a hundred rupees a month.

Although the Naxalite movement may be local to India, it has been seen in a similar form in Nepal. It might not be presumptuous to say that a similar struggle may break out in a resurgent China which has thrown off the shackles of communism and is adopting an axiom which states that “It is glorious to be rich”. At the risk of sounding outlandish, a similar movement may also take roots in the United States where a growing immigrant population may not be able to reap the benefits of the American economic model. However, I suspect that the most vulnerable economies to this conflict would be the developing or the “Third World” ones which may not be able to ensure an equitable distribution of benefits due to the sheer size of its population and also the presence of a corrupt and self serving administration that does not recognize its responsibilities to the nation state.

There are countless exception to the thoughts that I have expressed, such as the Sri Lankan conflict, the Naga secessionist movement, the Irish struggle and Basque nationalism. The intent of this essay is to appreciate the changing reasons for the emergence of conflicts and also the battlegrounds to fight them. The War of the Twenty First Century may very well be fought in your own neighborhood between residents of a sprawling apartment complex and the inhabitants of a slum across the road.

The Teachers

2007-12-23T19:49:00.000+05:30

The guru-shishya tradition of India is as old as our culture, dating back to the times of the Puranas and before. It has been extolled in the Upanishads where a Shanti Mantra starts with the invocation to the Almighty to protect both the student and the teacher. In the Ramayana the young princes of Ayodhya were sent to the gurukul of Vishwamitra to learn the principles of good governance and warfare. Even the revered Lord Krishna from whose divine lips the Gita came forth, learned the 64 arts and crafts from Sage Sandipani.

The respect accorded to these teachers was commensurate with their wisdom and the state ensuring that these humble men were allowed to continue their dedicated service to the refinement and dissemination of knowledge without undue hassles.

I remember my days in school when we looked up to our teachers in awe and parents held them in high esteem and regard. These men and women were aware of the responsibility that had been entrusted to them – that of shaping the character, value references and minds of the young boys and girls. There were quite a few teachers who had spent close to forty years of dedicated and selfless service and still taught with such enthusiasm that it would put us to shame.

But I sense something is terribly wrong .. When Amartya Sen talked about getting India’s primary education system on track he could not have been further from the truth. Teaching as a profession is dying .. I do not have statistics to quote but I can sense it in my observations and conversations. Out of the thousands of graduates who pass out of institutes of higher learning, I doubt if teaching would be the first choice of profession for them. I draw your attention to the word ‘first choice’, since this profession should not be taken up for lack of better options since it requires passion and dedication which can only come from an inner calling.

A deeper analysis will also show that teaching as a profession does not pay much in comparison to jobs behind blue and green trading terminals. At the end of the day every one of us desires to secure a sound future for our children and if the profession that we are pursuing does not offer the same then the anxiety to see our children succeed outweighs any passion that we would have had for teaching.

Offhand I can suggest remedial solutions for this issue … making teaching assignments more lucrative by offering pay hikes may not be the only way. We can start off contact programs targeting graduates where they are made conscious of this problem that is gripping us. We must tell them that numbers alone do not matter; it is the quality of input that is essential. They must sense the fact that institutions are not made by walls and lecture complexes; the ‘software’ is equally important. Teaching assistantship can be made a part of their curriculum where they can expose themselves to real time teaching assignments not only in colleges but if they desire then in schools too.

This problem must be studied well and most importantly soon… else we might have a world where there is nobody left to educate us.

Respect

2007-12-21T16:45:00.000+05:30

As I tied up my shoe laces I glanced at my watch - the hands were slowly inching their way towards 9. A soft groan escaped my lips as I added on to my tally of being marked late for office. I made a dash to the kitchen, picked up a yellowed apple and tried to accomplish the twin activities of walking briskly and munching on it.
The only thing beautiful about the morning was the cricket field – the blades of grass shimmering in the winter sun and magnifying their ‘greenness’ with each passing day.

As a walked across the field, I spotted the curator and his assistant watering the cricketing pitch. Gazing at me the assistant raised his hands in a respectful ‘salaam’. And then he said – ‘Sir, I want to have a chat with you.’ He asked me if I was getting transferred out of the place. I said I would be moving out in a month. He told me that the news of my transfer had made him really sad and he was hoping that somehow I would get the order repealed and stay on. I brought a polite end to the conversation and kept on moving. I dismissed the words of the man as pure melodrama – an attempt to get closer to his sahib…

But I was proved wrong – throughout the day, lots of people came up to me and told me how sad they felt that I was leaving – these were the people with whom I had spent two years of my life in Munger – a town so obscure that people would not be able to pin point its location on the map of India. And that set me thinking – what had I done right over the past couple of years that made them feel so attached to me?

As I tried to remember the countless conversations that I had had in this place I remembered the words of a bartender – He had told me that what he found most striking about me was that about me was that I talked to everybody regardless of his or her social status in the same tone. ( I think it was more a subconscious action of my part rather than being intentional !! )

That set me thinking – in a world where we are so blinded by the color of money the nature of our relationships is not dictated by respect for man as an individual by his status in society. How often do we dismiss our maid servants with disdain! Would we treat our bosses in office in the same manner? Why is it that though we have evolved technologically, the quality of human relationships has been on a downward spiral?

History has shown that whenever a class of rulers has brutally oppressed its people, the tides of time have turned against them – The British Empire disintegrated slowly when it could no longer respect the right to self determination of its subjects. Closer home, the Dalits or the oppressed castes have roared to power in the state of Uttar Pradesh by sweeping the assembly polls. Centuries of oppression by the higher castes had stoked a desire for ‘social independence’ which inched its way to becoming a reality in the political battlefields of India.

If only we learn to respect each other…. Wouldn’t the world be a better place?

Durga Puja

2007-10-27T21:01:00.000+05:30

Calcutta is a fascinating city. It is a city that reasons with the heart and not with the intellect. Trash all that intellectual bhadrolok talk about marxism, class inequality and social justice. If Karl Marx had seen the ostentatious display of wealth during Durga Puja in the seat of a democratically elected communist government he would have turned in his grave.
I have been watching the Durga Puja festivities for the last ten years. ( Previous to that I would chug off to Maharashtra to celebrate Navratri with my relatives ). Every year the crowds seem to get bigger, the puja budgets register an increase that is more than the inflation rate and the commercialisation of religion carries on shamelessly.
I doubt if Kolkata associates Durga Puja with nine days of spiritual reflection,adoration and penance. I wonder if the kids can tell you anything about the Goddess ... true you will see all the families trooping off to the nearest pandal to offer the customary Anjalis on the designated days. But that's more out of fear of being labelled as social outcasts than anything else. Night comes .. and you can see those beer caps pop open and people hog on tandoori chicken. In the name of praying to Ma Durga people wander around throughout the night visiting pandals and munch their way to glory.
People say that India is a poor country. I disagree. India is a poor country with enormous wealth in the hands of a privilaged few who are insensitive to the needs of those that live around them. The purpose of capitalism is to create an environment conducive to the generation of wealth so that it can be ploughed back into society.
People say that Bengal is one of India's poorest states .. maybe they have never visited the state during the Durga Puja.

Its not FAIR ...

2007-10-07T19:54:00.000+05:30

Where are all those dusky, bronze skinned beauties ? The definition of beauty is definitely undergoing a change with all the personal care companies coming up with products that promise to make one look fairer and beautiful in a matter of six weeks... Hardly an hour passes by without an ad for one of these products that are targeted towards women and men.
When Martin Luther King fought against racial segregation based on skin color little did he know that this prejudice was deep rooted in the minds of people not only in his country but all across the world. Why this obsession with fairness ? The greatest irony lies in the fact that the most feared and worshiped Goddess Kali is depicted as a fearsome , dark skinned woman. But that does not take beauty away from her. The hands of the artisans of Kumartuli can breathe life and beauty into an idol of any colour - be it black, brown or white.. Similarly why can't companies develop products that make women look beautiful and not fairer and hence beautiful. Do we conclude that all the dark skinned women of the world are ugly... Naomi Campbell - how did you become a supermodel ?

The perpetration of fairness as a precursor for beauty in all the advertisements is steadily influencing the psyche of Indians. If one were to glance through the matrimonial columns then a majority of them would begin with the line 'Wanted a fair , educated ... etc etc '

We certainly have become color blind ...

Lest we forget...

2007-09-26T22:59:00.000+05:30

As I write this blog, all the news channels are reporting the commencement of a hunger strike by a few of India's hockey players in front of the Karnataka CM's house. Their reason for protest - the cash prizes awarded to cricketer's of the state after their T20 World Cup win in South Africa.

In a country of a billion people the victory of a team of 11 players in a sport that is played professionally in not more than 15 odd countries evokes an outpouring of emotions. When the men's hockey team won the Asia Cup I doubt if even 10 heads turned. ( And hockey is the national sport of India ). I often wonder what is the cause of this phenomenon and I am yet to find any substantial answers.

One point of view is that cricket is the only game where India produces great performances. The reasons for great performances in competitive sport could be the following:
1. Talent/Skill/Hard Word - The amalgamation these attributes can produce winners in any sport irrespective of how good your competition is.

2. Global Participation in the sport - I need to elucidate this viewpoint. Take the following case. If a world cup is played by 10 team then each team has to effectively compete against only 9 others. If it is played by 50 teams then the competition can only get tougher. More the number of teams the chances of winning a world cup or complete domination in that sport also decrease. It must be remembered that spectator interest is only generated and sustained not by how artful a sport is but by how frequently the spectator's favorite team wins consistently. A sport generates money only if it is viewed by a large mass of people which is possible only if the team that this mass supports wins consistently.

My grandfather used to tell me that India and Pakistan ceased to forces to be reckoned with in hockey once Astro Turf was legalized as the playing surface. The change of surface helped in the rapid globalization of the sport that consequently increased participation and raised the bar of the game. The mandarins who ran the game in India did not anticipate that the globalization of the game would also require a significant investment back home. Their complacence was fueled by the fact that they thought that the arty wristwork of the Indians would overcome the power game that the Europeans would unleash ...
And the sub continent withered away ..

What does it require to make a sport successful ?

1. A good management committee that is comprised of experienced sportsmen and efficient administrators. ( People who can network and get sponsors )
2. An initial grant that will ensure the selection and training of talented players in that sport.
3. A long term plan for 5 years.
4. A string of successful victories.
Once consistency in results is achieved people are bound to sit up and take notice. And then the sport becomes a national passion.

A passing thought -- The title song of Chak De India - a film that reviles cricket - has become the theme song for all the cricket matches that India is playing ... that's cricket for you.

Munger - 2

2007-09-23T19:35:00.000+05:30

I vividly remember that after having lived in Munger for a couple of months, I had written a letter to my parents in which I had talked about the enormous difference between the lives of managers living in the park and those living outside.

The factory is a five minute park from the colony where I live. As soon as I step out of the high green gates of the park , I get glimpses of the real world ,of the world that has not seen the 9% growth in GDP that we are talking about. Men squatting on the roads sipping a glass of tea and looking forward to another day of unemployment. Children preferring to run across the roads in tattered clothes rather than going to a school without walls and teachers.

If Premchand had seen the high walls and barbed wire separating our colony from the outside world he would have compared it to the barriers that the prosperous Indians create between themselves and their not so lucky brethren. I wonder how the Capitalist countries have managed to create a decent standard of living for at least 90% of their population, while we still have 25 % of our people living below the poverty line even after toeing the so called socialist policies.

I have never seen such contrasts anywhere -- except maybe in Mumbai where a a 40 storey building will come up beside a sprawling slum. I often wonder how people live in those buildings without ever feeling guilty.

Munger - 1

2007-09-19T23:17:00.000+05:30

I never imagined that I would be spending so much of my adult life in the hinterland of Bihar. It has been close to 21 months that I have been working in Munger and I have a lot to write about this place.

The nearest railway station connecting Munger to Howrah and Patna is the Jamalpur Railway Station. Jamalpur's claim to fame is a railway workshop that is nearly 150 years old. The road from Jamalpur to Munger reminds me of all the movies where the location of the plot is one of the small towns of the state. Lush green field and mango orchards dot the road connecting these towns apart from small time hawkers setting up their carts to display their wares.

After having lived in this place I have come to realize how far removed we are from reality in the urban metros of our country. Here we are in a town where infrastructure is non existent , the ostentatious display of wealth absent and yet the people have happiness written all across their faces. The hospitality showered upon you if you happen to visit their houses make you feel ashamed and also wonder if the suave urban populace has real warmth behind those plastic smiles that they put up if somebody comes visiting.

Will keep writing about Munger... watch this space for more...

They also rise

2007-09-17T22:08:00.000+05:30

When somebody mentions the word India what do you think of ? Do you think of an individual with Aryan or Dravidian features tilling away in lush green fields or of a modern outward looking denizen of the metros of Mumbai, Delhi or Bangalore ? Wait a minute ... does the image of an individual with Mongoloid features living in bamboo huts in the hills among the clouds .. or of a group of young men and women heavily influenced by Western Music and evangelical Christianity ever come to your mind ?
It has been a quiet revolution.. The Seven Sisters of India have been in the grip of militancy since India gained independence. With only 25 out of 543 seats in the Lok Sabha they do not have the numbers that would bring the Masters of Delhi to their state more often. With only 21 km of border shared with the rest of India via the chicken's neck one wonders how they have integrated into the Indian state. Yet, these diminutive men and women have produced great sportsmen ( how many of us know that Manipur won the last National Games ? ) .. they give us the finest teas and handicrafts and also great soldiers...

The North East has always been known for its high literacy figures and a large chuck of an English speaking population. In the era of liberalization where a number of companies require people fluent in English these men and women are rising to the occasion. They are taking over the hospitality sector , BPO's and now the newsrooms. Their persistence and hard work is certainly paying off ..
And it will not be long before the scourge of militancy is wiped out by the prosperity that these youngsters shall bring to their state.

The Bourne Ultimatum

2007-09-16T22:13:00.000+05:30

The movie 'The Bourne Ultimatum' is the third in the series of the Bourne Trilogy and if newspaper reports are to be believed then it has grossed more than both it prequels put together. One thing that I like about the movie is that it can be comprehended without viewing the first two instalments of the Bourne series.
The protagonist Jason Bourne is an A grade CIA operative who has lost all memories of his past and is desperately trying to know who he is and why is the CIA intent on eliminating him. If we were to go beyond the action packed sequences we can perceive the following themes to be the underlying undercurrents of the script:

1. Guilt (From Jason's perspective)
Jason cannot come to terms with the fact that when he kills he does so without any remorse and also with a clinical efficiency. He believes that he has an identity that is distinct from 'Jason' and the people who gave him this identity are responsible for what he has become. He induces this guilt in a CIA operative towards the end of the movie where Jason asks the operative who is about to shoot him if he knows why he has been sent to kill Jason.

2. Fear (From the CIA's perspective )
The CIA director and his friends believe that the 'malfunctioning' Jason Bourne poses a threat to their survival and credibility. These men sincerely believe that when they created Jason Bourne they were creating a killer who would protect the interests of the United States but a 'masterless' Jason Bourne is dangerous and a ticking time bomb with information, which if leaked can threaten not only their government but also their own careers.
The war between these two themes has give rise to a screenplay that is action packed and keeps the viewer on the edges of his seat with a number of nail biting sequences.

The movie also gives the us glimpses into the fast paced world of intelligence agencies. The world of 'intel' is not just about extracting deals from shady sources, it is a world that employs the brightest of all individuals who have exceptional analytical skills coupled with an ability to make instantaneous decisions after having mentally sifted through all the data at hand.

All in all a great watch......
- I would love to be a Bourne.. would you ?

The Cyber World

2007-09-13T22:23:00.000+05:30

The last decade has been a silent witness to the power of information technology. It was not so long ago that government owned postal systems held sway over the act of communicating with family members and business associates. The only alternatives were express courier agencies who would cut short lead times by 50 %.
The electronic mail or the e-mail as it is popularly known had its own detractors who argued that the warmth of paper transactions could never be replicated by a cold system that transferred messages in the form of electronic impulses. Well, those detractors have been proved wrong , but what is even more interesting is that the internet has spawned a new culture and also altered the facets of human interaction.

Could you imagine yourself talking with a stranger, sharing details of your personal life and eventually falling in love... It is my observation that the curtain that separates two human beings allows them to interact more freely. It enables them to overcome inhibitions that they might have about their own visual appeal also verbal communication that would , in normal circumstances inhibit them from interacting in a peer group. Psychologist should study this phenomenon and explain it rationally - i daresay that educationists use this as a tool to teach children and draw them out of their closeted worlds by making them feel comfortable in a parallel cyber world.

Social networking sites seem to have proved the hypothesis that man is inherently a social animal who seeks to reach out to others of his race and desires to be appreciated for his accomplishments. People also do not mind to divulge details about themselves and leave it in a place for all to see. I shall not be surprised if the profile of people is one day used by product companies to typecast their users into different groups and come up with 10 separate target audiences for a particular product. And what better way to test launch than orkut !

The Maharashtrians

2007-08-19T16:20:00.002+05:30

Our nation is composed of a multitude of ethnic and linguistic groups that have a rich and colorful history behind them. If we were to scan through the Independenece movement we shall see that all these ethnic groups played a role in fighting the British. However, if we were to pick the dominant linguistic forces I am sure that the Maharashtrians and the Bengalis would count among them. And I am proud to have grown up in an environment that has made me assimilate the best of both these forces.

However, blood ties being the strongest, I shall always remain faithful to my mother tongue and today I shall dwell extensively on the diminishing power of the people who speak my tongue.If you were an outsider trying to assess which of the many linguistic groups in India weild the most power, which area would you investigate first ?

I would suggest cinema...True, Bollywood is synonymous with Mumbai, the capital of Maharashtra but it is an industry that churns of movies in Hindi and of late in the Hinglish medium. Marathi cinema does seem to do well but can never stand up to its Hindi counterpart...Now look to the south of Maharashtra and you shall come across Chennai. A city bubbling with raw Dravidian power and a film industry that is tech savvy with great musical talent ( A R Rehman ) and finacial muscle. Movies in Tamil, Telugu, Kannada and Malayalam are a rage not in their respective bastions but also in South-East Asia and the Middle East, courtesy a large expatriate population.

The Marathi Decline

The Maharastrians of Gopal Krishna Gokhale have degenarated into an inward looking community whose circle of influence and concern does not exceed beyond the Vidarbha, Konkan and Marathwada regions. We rarely venture into other parts of the country and our idea of moving out is only to the outposts of Sunnyvale and SanJose with an equally large Marathi speaking population whose sole occupation seems to be writing codes. We fail to assert ourselves in front of other linguistic groups because our very nature does not seek confrontation and when we do it is of a nonsensical kind.
The Sikhs are recognised as a nomadic community who are hardworking , ambitious and thrifty and as the old joke goes when Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon he found our very own red turbaned Sardar with a plate of Tandoori Chicken waiting for him...The Malayali is known for his quiet efficiency, the Tamilian for his intellect, the Marwari for his entrepreneurship .. what is the Maharastrian known for ??

I am pained to see that the community that has given this nation people like Shivaji , Gopal Krishna Gokhale and Baba Amte who have changed the basic fabric of this country, has no one to offer...... ( don't give me names like Madhuri Dixit,Sachin Tendulkar and Pratibha Patil)...

Arre marathi manoos .. kuthe gelas tu ?

The Balance Sheet

2007-08-18T23:18:00.000+05:30

It does not take one long to realize that our existence is a no profit-no loss exercise. What leaves you shall return to you in some form or the other.
The other day I made a solemn vow that I shall not make sarcastic or critical remarks about anybody... either colleagues,friends or relatives. I found that once I had made this resolve there was a sudden spate of criticisms and sarcasms directed at me , in person and also behind my back. It made me reflect and I came to the following conclusions :

1) Whenever you make a resolve your mind also gets programmed subconsciously. You become aware of the subject of your resolve and in your daily quota of human interactions you are tuning in to related situations that enable you to test your inner strength and tenacity. At the same time you also find that you will be facing numerous situations that shall force you to act contrary to your resolve. What must be noted is that you have faced these situations before, it is only because your subconscious has changed that you have become aware of the existence of these situations.
Example : You have taken a resolve not to mock any of your colleagues. You suddenly find that you have become the butt of an increasing number of jokes. If your were to reflect on the situation you shall find that you have always been the butt of many jokes... it is only because you want to renounce these habits you find that a deluge of such occurences... Now this awareness can elucidate two responses -- i) You fall back into your bad habits since you want to avenge these insults or ii) You become mentally stronger and are finally able to break free ....

2) To move onto the path to betterment, nature make sure that you bear the fruit of all your actions , good or bad, that had their origins in that habit. Once these are exhausted only then can you move on. This is a difficult period for any human being and most of us are not able to cross this stage.

To move on in life, it is important to look at your balance sheet. That's life for you my friends....

Independence

2007-08-16T23:47:00.000+05:30

Come 15th of August and there is a surfeit of articles glorifying our country for having stood the test of time and towering above the rest of the world as the largest democracy. I pause to ask a few basic questions.

1) Is there a vision for this country. Do we know the purpose of our existence ? Is there one common cause that can bring together all the people of this nation irrespective of linguistic, religious or casteist barriers ? For all the talk about the IIT's and IIM's changing the face of Young India have they produced a good academician who has drafted a grandiose dream for us ?
2) Our country is not in economic shamble because our politicians have been plain lucky. They never envisioned India as a software superpower -- If they had had their way we would have been begging for alms from the USA's and for that matter China's of the world. Can we point out even one decision not taken under duress or because of providence but with a sense of foresight that has altered the course of this nation significantly ?
3) If we are a hunky dory unified nation state why have there been so many separatist movements over the last 60 years ? Why do states want to break away even if they might not be able to survive economically and shall be eventually gobbled up by our neighbors ( If they become independent successfully)
4) Why do we celebrate the success of one bronze/one silver medal in the Olympics where as Tiny Cuba boxes away to golds and Mighty China churns out a factory of lanky men and women who have become the most feared athletes today. ( Don't be surprised if China goes on to win the Cricket World Cup in the next 10 Years).

Now my answer to the magical question -- Why is India still a democracy ?

There are close to 100 parties vying for a share of our treasury that can be emptied through their devious machinations. To keep the ordinary folk of the country engaged in their daily activities so that they can play their their game of loot and plunder , they decide to conduct a festival every five years. In this, the spectators are treated to a gala display of buffoonery in which they have to pick out the joker whom they liked the most. Once the populace is entertained our friends go back to their game.

No prizes for guessing what is what..........
Does that answer our questions ?

Tick Tock ....

2007-06-10T15:21:00.000+05:30

Ever seen and heard a clock ticking away ? The phenomenon is beautiful yet monotonous and it depends on an individual to either appreciate or criticize its actions. Its fixed and predictive motion is a stellar example of discipline.. irrespective of season or location it visits points on its circumference at predefined moments. And it is this characteristic that lends a semblance of sanity to the human race and defines its awareness of time.
Yes, we may moan about the lack of creativity in its diurnal motion but if it were to follow what ever path it wanted to we can imagine the chaos that would befall our race. In many ways this is representative of society where it is necessary for a certain number of individuals to lack creativity and behave like robots, performing tasks in accordance with a set of standardized instructions thus ensuring that the fabric of human life and interaction doesn't wither away. However, societies falter in not giving an iota of respect to this class of individuals , thus causing social upheavals. Ergo, respect is what man desires... regardless of his actions provided they fit into a basic framework of values. And if he doesn't get that ... then .... The Clock Stops Ticking ...

Fonts

2007-05-29T20:19:00.000+05:30

Every time I use Microsoft Word I spend a few minutes choosing the Font and its size. I doubt if Microsoft did any reasearch on the human race before drilling down to a list of fonts that would come with the application. But come to think of it, I have started judging people by the fonts and the size of text they use while drafting notes. I have drwan my own quirky conclusions, but the objective of this blog is not to typecast people according to the fonts used but explore the facets of human expression that fonts convey at a sub conscious level.

Mood

With mood swings across the day observe how you view the font on the note that you are composing. What may have been appealing in the morning may be on its way to the trash can after a horrible day at office.

Audience

Watch how you choose those business like fonts for the people higher up in the hierarchy. You wouldn't be choosing those fonts with the flourishes and the curves. The straight lines and a solid text would be what you settle for. ( This factor overwhelmingly important during those PPTs )

The Signature Statement - Personality

All of us have our favorites and when we write about something that we are passionate about we would definitely be using that font. In fact we associate our personality with it and the usage of that font by a third party is sure to tick us off.

I am running out of ideas .. its probably the Georgia that I am using .. this space does not have the Palatino Linotype or the Garamond that sets my creative juices flowing.....

The Indian Racial Psyche

2006-05-03T20:40:00.000+05:30

Well here goes another blog on a movie that i watched recently....

"Crash" has beautifully shown how a dark racial hatred still persists in the minds of the sauve urban population of a nation that calls itself the most potent force to dominate world politics.It makes me wonder that all the talk about being built on the bedrock of racial diveristy and tolerance is no more than a big sham. In fact the country is a melting pot of different civilizations whose concerns and awareness about their own identity grow only stronger once they come in contact with other cultures. In fact the lure of money is so strong that we often overlook such crisis and fall prey to the call of all those visas that are waiting for us. The Americans seem to have forgotten that their nation is strong only because the individual monetary aspirations of a vast majority of people are fulfilled on their soil and these are migrants from different parts of the globe.

Doesn't the movie also remind us of the Indian mentality wherein on the surface we show that all is hunky dory but deep inside the casteist divisions that are sown into our mind since childhood are waiting to explode once we become adults and are thrown into an arena where often caste wins over merit and all that has been told to us actually comes out to be true. Does a cosmopolitan education and upbringing help us get rid of such notions or are the pressures of a daily and a mundane existence so great that they are able to keep reason at bay.

All nations are racists....all humans are racists..... in fact if we were not racists/nationalists/casteist/ would cultures and civilizations have actually grown and thrived without being driven by the desire of an individual identity...??

Rang De Basanti

2006-03-25T10:03:00.000+05:30

It took the might of the British to bring all the warring princely states of the subcontinent and give shape to the country that we call India...it is interesting to note that the commercial and administrative interests of a foreign power brought states that to a large extent were culturally similar and were bound together by a common religion and a history. I often wonder if a few traders had not seen profit in a business of spices and textiles would this nation state ever exist?
What is the India that we know today? A country with a majority of its population in the 20's and having their own aspirations and goals.... But does this thick slice of our population even feel that they belong to one entity...do we need a revolution to increase our levels of adrenalin and consequently our patriotism? This is what this movie explores and brings out beautifully.

No tragedy if not personal affects any human being. The transformation of a few Yuppie Indians into a gang of revolutionaries is fascinating. Issues like Mig crashes, Defense scams, terrorists attacks need to be there - right at our doorstep if we have to be woken up from our slumber and do something about it. Jingoism is at best fleeting.... it leaves no permanent scar on your life...

Yet the movie is not without its own subtle ironies.... Do we still need to be told by the Caucasians that our forefathers were people like us and yet they sent shivers down the spine of the Raj and made them sweat in the dusty terrains of our country while waging our War of Independence? Isn't it a shame that somewhere in our psyche we still have the remnants of a servile nature?

But even a Marlboro smoking Indian does have a conscience...He has it in him to wash the guilt of corruption by committing fratricide. And he can still meet his death Smiling...

If all of us remember correctly the British Jailor had said..."I have seen two kinds of men --- one go to their death crying and the other go their death silent.... today I met a third kind........."

Lets complete it.... "Men who go their death smiling...."

Can we ever do that?

The Journey....

2006-02-18T15:48:00.001+05:30

I woke up in the morning after having fallend asleep listening to the rambling of the Jamalpur express as it sped towards a new destination in my life.The word "Bihar" had always conjured up images of a world ruled by pandemonium and avarice where lawlessness was the law and a diurnal journey was fraught with dodging bullets whizzing past one's ears.
The company had sent an Ambassador to take us to Munger...a world from which one of my closest friends had risen and was now making his living amidst the urban chaos of Bangalore. The vehicle by itself was a symbol of our bureaucratic past where the car would traverse the dusty terrain of our country , an era which India was trying to forget.....

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

My world now is a philosophers' delight...a small town where we live in luxury with uninterrupted electricity and water...a pleasure which I had not seen in my childhood...which most in the town have not yet seen..a world which I felt could only be created by Premchand's stories and in films...
Is this for real ??

2006-02-18T15:48:00.000+05:30

One Year...

2005-09-21T18:51:00.000+05:30

A year since i discovered Blogging...a year since I made the resolution that I would churn out blogs at the rate of one per day...and like so many of my dreams and resolutions this one had to recede into the background....
I often wonder what drives us to make promises and build plans for our future when deep inside our hearts a voice tells us that sorrows are the result of the false promises that we make to ourselves.... Is man a creature who loves to revel in defeat and sorrow ??
When we talk about the process of evolution in our biological sphere isn't the word itself heavily loaded with touches of selfishness and sarcasm..is progress a result of our innate desires for recognition and adulation or are we really competent enough to carry our fellow men with us ?
Every day I wake up and visualize the path less travelled....and yet like a lost traveller i take the very same path that I had travelled the day before..because we are born to be chained birds...birds who cannot see nor fly beyond the cage that they call their habitat......because we are blind,deaf and heartless......
Hello....can anybody hear me ???????

2005

2005-01-04T10:50:00.000+05:30

The New Year.....
The year 2005 started off on a very muted note with the memory of the killer Tsunami still fresh in the minds of most people."Most"...yes most...For a large chunk of the so called elite of our population natural disasters are a God sent opportunity to indulge in megalomanic philanthropy,being caught by the cameras hugging a 4 year old orphan when all that he would want is solace and consistent care and understanding.Calls for relief material are looked upon as a channel for disposing of old clothes when monetary contributions and human contributions would have been welcomed.In fact agencies often point out that victims of such tragedies need social company to help them tide over the disaster.The greed of our race does not spare even these contributions.There have been reports where people have found out that some elements of our society take upon themselves the onerous task of separating the "decent" clothes from the bad ones and then selling them back into the market.I do not think that we can get a better example of "separating the wheat from the chaff".
During the vacations I chanced upon "My Life" a detailed account of the life of Bill Clinton written by the "Prez" himself.The book is extraordinarily candid and provides a glimpse into the world of public administration within the boundaries of "Uncle Sam".What fascinates me most about the American Democracy is that it is still the bastion of educated people who know how to make the life of the common man easier.Corruption does exist but in an entirely diffrent form.I would call it a corruption of the nation states outside the US along with its foreign policies so as to further the interests of large corporations and gaining strategic toeholds thus making the economies of other nations subservient to that of the Dollar.In India, middle class households will never encourage their wards to take up politics as a career option thus depriving our country of excellent administrators.
Wish the new year ushers in some changes....
Season's Greetings....

RP....ILLU.....

2004-11-14T21:21:00.000+05:30

I took my last walk through the ILLU arena this morning trying to recollect all the efforts that had gone into making each chatai perfect.The endless adjustements to the curves of the bow and the eyes of the horses...the changes made to make each design more dynamic...it was a Herculean task.I looked at the figure of Draupadi and replayed those bawdy jokes that we had shared when we saw the sketch for the first time.It was a month of sheer opposites which would have been ideal ingredients for a college movie.There were moments of intense disappointments which would fade into the background in a split second to give way to periods of excitement and joy.
When the TSG president announced that we had come second I felt sad...not for myself but for those wonderful second years of mine who had helped to make this event what it was.I must confess that I never enjoyed shouting at them but I had to act as the situation demanded.It is never an easy task starting work for an event such as this, but when those chatais are lit the ecstasy that they generate vaporizes all those acrimonious feelings.I was delighted for the Rangoli team which had created history by winning that particular segment.Battling all odds,defying all expectations( including mine ) they worked day in and day out.A few of the members had plenty of things to prove to me after I had given them a sounding for starting work late...and boy I was only too happy to be caught on the wrong foot.
The endless nights of work...the shouting of invectives at our next door neighbours will all be passe.In more ways than one I will be sad.......and yet I am happy...beacause the defeat of this year will only make my juniors to come back stronger next Diwali....
My dear RKites...every RPian says... "I shall return....." and Ma Kasam...they will...

? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?

2004-11-07T19:33:00.000+05:30

What is Athletics all about ? Is it just about speed and power or is there more to that ?Probably it is an event which is an expression of our latent desire to compete against our partners in evolution and test our endurance.It is a celebration of passion,excitement,defeat and most important of them all victory....
The last few days have been a roller coaster as far as emotions and expectations.With plenty of people disappointing and some showing enormous resilience I have been caught up in a cacophony of emotions.The second year in IIT was all about tempo and enthusiasm.Things were perfect and orderly and yet these perceptions have changed as time has flowed past.These brilliant additions to the lexicon of every KGPian have been blatantly misused time and again for personal gains in the hope that one's popularity can soar.People can be brilliant actors...what more to justify this than the expression of the hidden Janus within us.What is winning an event all about....why does a Hall celebrate a victory..is it because we really enjoy that victory or we are expected to enjoy that victory.And yet request to be a part of the sacrifice that goes into making that victory possible are scorned upon and derided.Our society shows two extreme kinds of emotions towards Bohemians....either Hero Worship them or Ignore them.It depends on how the rules of Probabiliy favour the tossing of the coin.
Probably I am confused and the above paragraph may seem like the rantings of a lunatic....i think that i need some rest....

Back....

2004-10-06T05:35:00.000+05:30

I opened my eyes and saw a nebulous sky which hid all that was beyond it.I looked to my left and saw my wife of twenty years who had grown weary with the burden of having to live with a barren womb.I saw those hazel colored eyes and remembered the beauty that she had radiated when I had met her for the first time.Those exquisitely sculpted lips that tasted as sweet as honey when I had parted them on our nuptial night.
My mind raced back twenty years when we had first made love on a private beachfront and heard the gasps of delight that she made when I entered her for the first time.I had dreamt of a son and a daughter,I had dreamt of a wife who would walk hand in hand with me....I had dreamt....
Fifteen years back I had approached a harlot and asked her to carry a child for me.Ofcourse I would adopt the child without my wife having to know whose baby it was.It was picture perfect.After a night of lust and money I was confident that I would have a son whom I could call my own.He would have my blood and ....
But nothing happened.Things were going awry.Finally we decided to go in for those damning tests and get to the root of the problem.A few weeks later the report came...I looked at it and then at her with a cold stare...she lowered her eyes and understood that she had become a social outcast.
We continued to make love..but it was no more than two dogs satisfying their carnal urges.I became violent while she would lie motionless, not even whimpering as I scratched her and bit her..
It would all end today.As a looked at my body lying on that stack of wood and listened to the invocations to the Netherworld before the fire would swallow all in it wake I wish I had told her what was written in that report...

A critique'

2004-09-30T21:40:00.000+05:30

When Abhinav said that I had only stated a problem rather than providing a solution to it I allowed myself a period of intense introspection.In the following post I shall be analysing the causes of the problem as well as it solutions.
First the causes.I talked about India.Let us understand what does the concept of an Indian imply?Does it mean living in a set of boundaries drawn by Mr Radcliffe and Mr McMohan or does it mean belonging to a common cultural consciousness which has been alive since time immemorial.As a country we are only 57 years old and let us face it -- if the British had not brought the princely kingdoms under its rule we would not have existed as we are today.The land that is India would have been a loose confedaration of states sharing commerce and being marked by frequent bickerings and anarchy.We would not have been a democracy or if I may put it a functioning anarchy as we are today.
As a people we had been brutally subjugated for nearly 200 years in which the McCauly system of education was forced upon us so that Her Majesty could always find a large pool of Babus to run her 'Jewel in the Crown'.We were conditioned to be robots in which we had to accept what was being taught to us barring the development of the faculties of reasoning and thinking.This has again begun to haunt India with the advent of the BPO culture in which we are creating an entire breed of back office boys.Critics may argue that a country with a large population as ours needs to create avenues of mass employment but does it justify the neglect of high end jobs ?
This effect has slowly percolated down the generations, to the extent that from our childhood we are taught to look up to the West for examples of greatness and success.Swami Vivekanada was a great believer in the idea of the synthesis of the East and the West to create a better India but it was soon forgotten.Today this attitude is reflected in all aspects of life..right from sport to education to politics.The maxim of "Service before Self" has been inverted to become "Self before Service".
To revolutionise this dismal state of affairs we need to first change the way in which we percieve offices of public service.If we have more and more educated people turning to public administration(apart from the IAS etc) we can create a pool of different opinions and ideas which by themselves will be a remedy to this plague.Secondly we need to change our system of education in which emphasis has to be given to studying what one loves.Again my detractors will point out that this is possible only in a polity that provides a minimum social security.But if we observe carefully the second solution is a direct corollary to the first in which a better administration guarantees efficient management of economic resources.
Coming to the point of self belief.I have always belived that the arena of sports is the only place where the country acts as a whole and success can act as a major morale booster.In this respect the only model that has worked wonders is the Chinese one but it is not wothout flaws.Instead of blindly taking up this model ( as we would normally do) we can modify When Abhinav said that I had only stated a problem rather than providing a solution to it I allowed myself a period of intense introspection.In the following post I shall be analysing the causes of the problem as well as it solutions.
First the causes.I talked about India.Let us understand what does the concept of an Indian imply?Does it mean living in a set of boundaries drawn by Mr Radcliffe and Mr McMohan or does it mean belonging to a common cultural consciousness which has been alive since time immemorial.As a country we are only 57 years old and let us face it -- if the British had not brought the princely kingdoms under its rule we would not have existed as we are today.The land that is India would have been a loose confedaration of states sharing commerce and being marked by frequent bickerings and anarchy.We would not have been a democracy or if I may put it a functioning anarchy as we are today.
As a people we had been brutally subjugated for nearly 200 years in which the McCauly system of education was forced upon us so that Her Majesty could always find a large pool of Babus to run her 'Jewel in the Crown'.We were conditioned to be robots in which we had to accept what was being taught to us barring the development of the faculties of reasoning and thinking.This has again begun to haunt India with the advent of the BPO culture in which we are creating an entire breed of back office boys.Critics may argue that a country with a large population as ours needs to create avenues of mass employment but does it justify the neglect of high end jobs ?
This effect has slowly percolated down the generations, to the extent that from our childhood we are taught to look up to the West for examples of greatness and success.Swami Vivekanada was a great believer in the idea of the synthesis of the East and the West to create a better India but it was soon forgotten.Today this attitude is reflected in all aspects of life..right from sport to education to politics.The maxim of "Service before Self" has been inverted to become "Self before Service".
To revolutionise this dismal state of affairs we need to first change the way in which we percieve offices of public service.If we have more and more educated people turning to public administration(apart from the IAS etc) we can create a pool of different opinions and ideas which by themselves will be a remedy to this plague.Secondly we need to change our system of education in which emphasis has to be given to studying what one loves.Again my detractors will point out that this is possible only in a polity that provides a minimum social security.But if we observe carefully the second solution is a direct corollary to the first in which a better administration guarantees efficient management of economic resources.
Coming to the point of self belief.I have always belived that the arena of sports is the only place where the country acts as a whole and success can act as a major morale booster.In this respect the only model that has worked wonders is the Chinese one but it is not wothout flaws.Instead of blindly taking up this model ( as we would normally do) we can modify this with our own inputs so as to suit our own cultural and geographical peculiarities and implement it.Note I have not stated the direct application as any good Englishman would have done in the 19th century to suit the needs of the Empire.
I hope that I have made a small beginning and certainly wish that this creates a domino effect....this with our own inputs so as to suit our own cultural and geographical peculiarities and implement it.Note I have not stated the direct application as any good Englishman would have done in the 19th century to suit the needs of the Empire.
Expecting a lot of fire....

The Windies--an eye opener

2004-09-26T20:42:00.000+05:30

The champions trophy final was an amazing display of calm,grit and determination from a team which had been relegated to the nadir of their cricketing history.The Carribeans have an uncanny knack of highlighting their periods of gloom and despair with stellar perfoemances.Be it Brian Lara's heroics in the tests against Australia or the match at The Oval. Throughout the nineties the cricketers from Islands that make up the West Indies have lived under the glorious shadow of their past.Apart from a handful of cricketers they have never produced innings of consistency that the world could notice.But cricket being a game of uncertainties has justified itself once again.
Brain Lara remarked at the end of the match that the win would bring joy to the flood stricken people back home and give them something to cheer about.And how true..time and again it has been seen that sport is the panecea of the masses.It is a moment of release and exuberance where nothing can seem to divide a nation as it braces itself for a do-or-die match.As "Remember The Titans" potrays--a football field can be the first battleground to fight 'racism'.
Picture India winning this trophy..newspapers would have sung paens of praise for our cricketers,obscene monies would have been doled out and newsmagazines in their cover stories would have hailed the team as one of the greatest ever.In a few days it would have been evaporated as we would succumb to one loss or the other.
We as a sporting nation are undoubtedly an infamous failure. one-sixth of the world's population having the most hardy and diverse pools of population and yet we have to satisfy ourselves with a silver medal in the Olympics .

What ails our sport ? Mr Sharad Pawar is in the news again..why ? Because he wants to be the president of the BCCI.The body is sitting on a mountain of cash and is a wonderful opportunity for politicains to be used as a tool to further their causes of nepotism and corruption.Film stars run with the Olympic torches whereas legends are never remembered.The Indianess that we call upon in short periodic outbursts sounds hollow.In the midst of jingoism it is forgotten that an Olympic medallist is chiselling stone to eke out a living.
A country that cannot honor its heroes does not deserve to exist.It is shameful that religious fanaticism and jingoism has to drive a nation like ours.What ails Indianess.....contenment in mediocrity or contenment in ignorance ??

Arif,Taufiq and Gudia

2004-09-24T14:03:00.000+05:30

There was a great furore in the media over the lives of the above mentioned people.Arif,a soldier in the Indian Army had gone missing in September'99 and had been declared a deserter.He was recently released by the Pakistani forces which had captured him when he had inadvertently crossed over into their territory.
Meantime,his wife of ten days Gudia, had waited for nearly four years before marrying Taufiq.When her first husband Arif was released she was pregnant with her second husband's child and was in a dilemma as to whether she should go back to Arif or stay on with Taufiq.
The above is a very very personal family matter and should have been resolved without any interference either from women activist groups or religious clergy and most importantly the fourth estate.And yet mincemeat was made of this issue by both the print and electronic media. As the world has progressed it has become more obvious that we as a civilisation have lost the ability to be 'sensitive'.
Today newspapers have ceased to measure the gravity of the articles or the information that they are publishing.Far from being a medium of self expression they have become a victim of marketing gimmicks that have spread their wings over this bastion of human solidarity and impartiality.Reporters are no more than vultures ready to swoop down on carrion and transform it into a source of fame and lucre.
Living in a society do we have the right to pry into other's personal affairs ? We have become a congregation of voyeurs who derive great pleasure in knowing how many women an actor has slept with in the last few months or why an actress has tattoos on the most intimate organs of her body.We are fascinated by the virility and impotency of famous personalities as if they were ads for 'Viagra'.
As a responsible media a news network should always judge how a piece of news would affect the person concerned.Agreed for ending social evils like dowry,child marriages etc. the concerned people should certainly step in.But with great power comes great responsibility and reponsibility does not mean turning into a publication of the Paparazzi.

A cigarette in my hand....

2004-09-22T21:12:00.000+05:30

As I took a long drag on my fourth 'Classic' of the day I saw the light blue smoke rising up slowly and become one with the ether.This was followed by a few more puffs on the stick until the ash felt down and the burning tip had almost reached the golden ring.
I have never really known why I started smoking and what pleasure I derive from it.Every time the nicotine enters the lungs of mine I enjoy a dark masochistic pleasure taking me on the road to perdition.And yet I cannot leave it...It probably is the only constant companion of my life which will always remain loyal to the person holding it...loyal to the extent of accompaning him to a sepulchral silence.
The denizens of this world love irony..infact we subsist on it...9th of August, 8:45 pm...I am given the good news that I have been recruited by a cigarette major...(after all nobody forced the job on me...I took it out of my own free will and a after greulling round of interviews).....all my life I'll be selling cigarettes to others of my ilk and hoping more people join the party and boost my profits.Lovely isnt it ?
These thoughts flashed like streaks of lighting across the crimson sky...I looked at them and before I could hear the sound of thunder I asked my friend...."Got a lighter ??"

Exams !!!!!

2004-09-22T15:07:00.000+05:30

Another boring set of exams comes to an end ! Life sucks man.This endless cycle of exams,CG's and what not ! I sometimes wonder if it is worth going through the grind of these monotonous paper monsters ?
Aaah...what the heck !!!
Finally got some free time today.Time for contemplation and most importantly TIME TO WASTE !!! was thinking about writing a story.A sleazy story with all the good things of life as the main ingredients.Hmm...I can smell something really really nice cooking.Watch this space for more !!!!

Here I am

2004-09-22T02:15:00.000+05:30

I sometimes wonder if we IITians have actually perfomed to our fullest potential in the last four years.Does the euphoria of having cleared the most difficult entrance exam in the world take so much time to sink in or is it a case of sheer slothfulness ? It is no secret that we are among the most desultory creatures on this planet as far as our priorities go.But why this randomness in India's best institutions ?
There is one thing that sets us apart from the rest on this planet.The ability to meet challenges.the ability to fight back...and most importantly -the ability to survive.Is there a fault in our education system which refuses to stimulate the brightest of brains ?
There was one thing that I noticed in the past four years.Our education here has been seen as a passport to a better life.A life of riches where monetary worries would be minimal and social security maximum.But have we ever thought about the Greater Common Good...have we not spent our lives in an ivory tower where we have refused our creativity to surface and our innermost desires to mould our future ?
Lets face it...99% of us did not choose to come to IIT because we loved engineering...it was because it was the oasis of excellence in this vast desert like country of ours.It was liberating to get away from a world where nothing was ever done right and the passage of time was a glorious uncertainty.
I love my community...I love the IIT...but we as the Brand IITians can aspire for even more ...........