ShankR

the deplorable state of cops in AP (in particular Hyd)

2011-10-24T08:50:00.000-07:00

here, I reprint a letter written to cmap@gov.in many moons ago.
There was no response; on the other hand, cops camp in Raj Garden (read story below) and put me under 'observation'. Ho hum.

All the while I thought big brother is not bothered to watch (over) me. Glad He does!

==
[To
Right honourable CMAP Shri NKK Reddy garu]

Sir,
It is with great regret that I report an incident that happened an hour ago.

The youngsters, and a lot of oldsters, were out on the streets celebrating India's cricket victory. I was out there too. I was cheering the guys, at the same time - making sure that the traffic was not disrupted. I was telling the guys to let the vehicles go on, after a brief stop - say cheers and all that.

The kids were taking up half the road, so I was indicating incoming traffic to move to the middle or even right, so they could pass along.

This is Vidyanagar, at 11.30 PM. My name is Sankara Sastry Rajanala. My (rented) house is opposite Raj Gardens function palace in the lane opposite AMS hospital; you can tell your cops to find me - that should not be difficult.

You can also tell your top cops to find out who was on duty at that hour (about 11.30 pm after India won the world cup).

All I did was to indicate to them - they were on bikes - to stay clear of the left side and go in the middle or to the right. They were very impolite, "abe, ja yahan se'

I was doing my part as a responsible citizen, keeping peace and quiet and order, in the midst of this crazed youth.

and I get this rudeness in response to this.

You cannot run a state of 8 crores with less than one lakh cops: you need decent citizens like me to keep things in order, at least until the cops arrive. And when they arrive, they give me abusese?

This is not fair.

The police department cannot do anything about the anti-social elements of the state, and they target innocent, well-meaning citizens like me.

And that leads, and adds, to the conflict between decent citizens and the law-and-order folks.

I hope you can do something about that.

The least I expect is an apology from those two boys (the cops) who said nasty things to me.
Else, you are adding to the disgruntled intellectual property of your state.

God bless you and your government. God save it from bad cops.

Is YSR A Congress Leader Or Jagan’s Father Only?

2011-08-23T11:32:00.000-07:00

revisiting lanes thru which one has been

The following is a year old. It was inspired by Jagan's craving to eat out of his father's soul. YSR, they say, had a soul. A decent soul.

One time on television when Tushar Gandhi was claiming royalty for some US corporate using Gandhi's name, one man in the audience said: If there is any royalty, it should go to everyone in India because he is the father of the nation. [I agree; Tushar, I don't think as your grandfather, he is worth even char-anna.]

In short, Gandhi can either be Tushar's grand-dad or the father of the nation; not both at one and the same time. In the same vain, if YSR had a decent soul and acquired the warmth of the people, the credit cannot all be 'inherited' by Jagan. At least, the Congress party would like a piece of the action. That is what happened over the past one year.

Now read on what I said a year ago:

First the big story: the Supreme Court decides to reopen the case against Union Carbide – the company responsible for the Bhopal massacre. The charges against the accused may be changed from criminal negligence to culpable homicide; just may… This is good news, but it seems that Warren Anderson is gonna go scot free. And Dow Chemicals will wash its hands off the episode – with scents from Arabia if necessary. Yes, the ‘itr’ from the middle east (and the oil) can wash any stain! Even Lady Macbeth's bloody hands....

When Tushar Gandhi Was Baffled

There was a show on one of the national channels some time ago (It was a discussion of aam janta with some big shots from media and politics and so on – with big-mouth Barkha Dutt moderating it). Among the experts, or stars, of the show was Tushar Gandhi – a grandson of Mahatma Gandhi. The issue that was debated was the use of Mahatma Gandhi’s name by some U.S. company. There are a lot of ads in the U.S. (on bill boards) issued in public interest which say: Mahatma Gandhi – what did he have? Soul… Pass it on. That kind of stuff is ok, but commercial use of Mahatma Gandhi is not acceptable, to Tushar Gandhi. He said that the company should pay royalty to his kith and kin. One guy in the audience responded to it roundly: “Is Gandhi your grandfather or the father of the nation? If he is your grandfather alone, then he cannot be the father of the nation. If he is, on the other hand, the father of the nation, then the royalty should be shared by all Indians.” This baffled Tushar Gandhi and he retracted his claims.

My Father’s Son…

Mr Y S Jaganmohan Reddy is caught in a similar predicament. If the late lamented Dr Y S Rajasekhar Reddy is his father and his father alone, then he can claim his legacy. On the other hand if YSR is a Congress leader, the entire party has a claim to his legacy. This is precisely what the Congress high command wants him to be clear about right now. All this while, Jagan’s followers said that there is no clear directive from the high command: but 10 Janpath has responded to the poser Just In Time. It is now up to the dirty dozen who are behind Jagan to respond. Do they want to pay homage to YSR as a Congress leader, or as Jagan’s father? [Over the past year, the number swelled to 29; but I think that includes some MLCs too. -Ed.]

The AICC made it clear that on the occasion of YSR’s first death anniversary, district-wise meetings would be held, where the local MPs and MLAs participate – along with the district Congress presidents, and distribute Rs 100, 000/- to the next of kin of those who committed suicide after YSR’s untimely death. The amount is much higher than what Jagan has been doling out. At the same time, this is an ‘official’ ceremony which no Congressperson can miss. As the MP of Kadapa, Jagan himself is expected to take part in the meeting in Kadapa: that is the Lakshmana Rekha which he cannot cross. And if he does, he will be leaving the party of his own volition.

A brief history of what transpired in the past two months: Jagan meets the supremo with his mother; the boss tells him not to go on the odarpu yatra, that the party itself will conduct meetings. Jagan goes public with the dialog with Madame, and asserts his intent to go ahead with the yatra. “Soniaji said No, but I am going ahead with the yatra”, he told the press and media people.

YSR is a Congress leader to be cherished as such by all Congressmen and Congresswomen, such legacy as he had is not personal property. [But if Jagan insists on it, then the legacy will be proven to be dirty money, was the threat then. Now proven. -Ed]

Therein lies the rub: the Congress owns YSR and disowns his son who is defiant. And I always maintained that the supremo will not waste her breath talking about a nonentity called Jagan.

In tennis, a game can be won in four serves – 15; 30; 40; game. This time around when the high command serves (say, a show-cause to Jagan), that will be game, set, and match for Mrs Gandhi.[[Actually, Jagan capitulated even before the show-cause was served. -Ed.]

May God grant Madame Sonia good health and long life.

on a personal note

The less science we have all round, the better off we will be. I think Gandhiji said something of that sort. In fact the fewer humans we have on earth, the better for the planet: that is what the Voluntary Human Extinction Society tries to propagate. I am not a card-carrying member of that society, but there is something in what they say: check out www.vhem.org.

Tailpiece: Where do ants go in summer? Ant-arctica.

biologically, why doesn't the coconut fall on you?

2011-08-22T12:27:00.000-07:00

As god willed it, the coconuts are supposed to grow within 6 km off the seashore. That is about all. You should not plant them in Hyderabad (or you should worry what happens if a coconut falls on your head). I don't know if the coconut's curse, aforementioned (http://sankarar.blogspot.com/2011/08/coconuts-curse.html) applies to trees (and fruit thereof) which took root in Hyderabad.

This is what happens ecobiologically. The whole idea of breaking apart env and bio is disgusting: so here is the example.

The coconut grows and yields fruit. Month after month, you have a person coming by and shaking up the loose ones, with one hand. You collect them and sell them: if you mix it with white rum, you get wonderful coconut white rum. In America and the west, they make it with the brand malibu. Booh hoo. I wanna make Masula Masala. About masula, a little down this blog.

Then what happens is only the dry ones remain, after the fruity ones are shaken away. The dry are swept away in a wind. Even the shakiest of them would not budge unless there is a strong appeal from the sea. The old and the bold.

They would never fall all over other people. They lived high up the top of the palm head. Heady?
Headstrong, maybe. But never hit your head.

Even in Hyderabad, I have seen an old coconut falling right in front of my eyes and I did not bat an eyelid. I picked it up, and kept it aside, because it is a good seed.

That is how we had a supply of coconut back in the agrahaaram.

Watch this space for Jayakanthan's "The cat in the agrahaaram".

Masula, as the Greeks Knew it

An excerpt from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Masulipatam

The town has existed since the 3rd century BCE (Satavahana period) when, according to Ptolemy, it was known as Maisolos. The Periplus of the Erythraean Sea calls it Masalia in the 1st century CE.^[2] The port is located on the southeastern, or Coromandel Coast, of India. Situated in the mouth of the River Krishna on the Bay of Bengal, the Masula port saw flourishing sea trade. It was a 17th-century port for French, British and Dutch trade. The port has a medium-size fishing harbour which can accommodate 350 fishing vessels and an active carpet-weaving industry. The other products from the town include rice, oilseeds and scientific instruments. This town is a railway terminus and an important educational centre.

==

the coconut's curse

2011-08-22T11:41:00.000-07:00

back in the agrahaaram, in Machilipatnam, where I grew up, we always had many coconut trees in the backyard. Later we tried to plant some in the front and some by the side; of the four, only two survived. One died early, the other had to be butchered because it bent onto the terrace (or so my brother said: as far as I looked, it was way off the plinth.

what if a coconut falls down on one of us?

I used to sit in the backyard (the front was west-facing and obnoxious) among all the adults, and wonder if a coconut falls anytime! Another thing I was scared of was pralayam; they made it sound like it was irrational. Before Layam, pralayam has to happen. I don't worry about that much now.

back to the coconut grove

It almost looked liked that to me because on all four sides, for as long as I could remember, there were these overarching coconuts in the backyard and me wondering if one loose coconut would fall - on anyone of us... that would be enough pain for a life time. Later two lightenings hit us and we lost count; let us keep this biological and not make it a soppy boiblog.

The question is, what if a or the coconut falls? Who do I ask? Amma...
mother do you think the coconut will fall? If no, why no?
[mother do you think they'll try to break my soul...]

Mom told me that the coconut had a curse

I heard it first and the only time from my ma; I am not sure if this curse is a blessing, really; my biological explanation will follow, either in this piece (later on) or tomorrow (or later on).

Once upon a time, many people died of coconuts falling on their heads, and they suffered a lot. Palm trees did not cause trouble because they were tended to daily. But coconuts were a wild lot. And so the people who lived in the vicinity of coconuts prayed together; god appeared and asked what is the problem. They said here it is - in your creation are trees which grow wild and bear fruit which make no sense, and on top of it, they keep falling on our heads and it is a pain inded, me Lord.

The good lord thought for a bit and said, "Hereby
I curse the fruit of coconut not to fall on heads
human or cattle; they are free to fall when no one is watching
I ordain that they grow old and fall when there is a big wind to carry them farth
My diktat to the trees is not to bear such fruit as would fall on any passing-by head."

Thereby, said amma, there is no fear
The coconut will never fall no matter what be

There is no historic evidence of coconuts causing damage
Whereas palm-wine did much noise in the past and now

==

Jagan will eat chippa koodu

2011-08-19T11:44:00.001-07:00

I think perceptive readers would remember the title (as above or something similar) some time ago in Bottomline. It was printed and published.

There is, alas, no search button in blogspot; I have to fit in some metadata myself, I guess.

What is common between Vive Kananda and Ramanujan?

They both vanished early. That is what they did, at different points of time. Osho put a stone on his grave saying he visited earth briefly (for all of 80 years)? And the whole of sex-crazed America is still looking for God and ecstasy.

Subash Babus is said to be alive, and May He Well Be Alive, in Viet Nam or someplace. His mission, whatever it was, is still unfinished. That is why you have Bharateeyudu even now.

But what did Vivekananda do? He came, he saw the parched earth, and he said: even god dare not appear before a hungry man except in the form of bread (roti). Gandhi then gave off his upper cloth to a woman whose child was hungry.

All of it, he did in 40 years and flew off. If you know what you wanna do and have a plan how to do it (a mission, as they say in the corporate world), you will do it in a quarter of the time it takes other people to mess around with others' lives and achieve nothing and vanish into thin air.

Vive, the bird, flew into outer space; and onto other planets. Holier than ours, maybe? More wretched than this earth? Maybe...

But before he left, he planted some earthquakes here: watch this space for late-breaking news and popular tsunami videos. When people realize God in the form of food security, remember it was He who awakened mother earth, and her children, to yield. More...

So did Ramanujan

In school we were told that Srinivasa Ramanujan planted a lot of landmines in math. This is what http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Srinivasa_Ramanujan#In_popular_culture is perceived as:
==

* An international feature film on Ramanujan's life was announced in 2006 as due to begin shooting in 2007. It was to be shot in Tamil Nadu state and Cambridge and be produced by an Indo-British collaboration and co-directed by Stephen Fry and Dev Benegal. A play, First Class Man by Alter Ego Productions, was based on David Freeman's First Class Man. The play is centered around Ramanujan and his complex and dysfunctional relationship with Hardy.
* Another film, based on the book The Man Who Knew Infinity: A Life of the Genius Ramanujan by Robert Kanigel, is being made by Edward Pressman and Matthew Brown.
* In the film Good Will Hunting, the eponymous character is compared to Ramanujan.
* "Gomez", a short story by Cyril Kornbluth, describes the conflicted life of an untutored mathematical genius, clearly based on Ramanujan.
* A Disappearing Number is a recent British stage production by the company Complicite that explores the relationship between Hardy and Ramanujan.
* The character Amita Ramanujan on the television show Numb3rs is named after Ramanujan.
* The novel The Indian Clerk by David Leavitt explores in fiction the events following Ramanujan's letter to Hardy.
* An episode of Ancient Aliens produced by The History Channel mentions how Hardy met Ramanujan. It goes on to mention that Ramanujan's work has application today in String Theory and might contain insights into future applications in science including multiple dimensions, wormholes, levitation and more.
* On March 22, 1988, the PBS Series Nova aired a documentary about Ramanujan, "The Man Who Loved Numbers" (Season 15, Episode 9).

Dushman na kare dost ne woh kaam kiya hain...

2011-08-19T10:16:00.000-07:00

zindagi aur bataa tera iraada kya hain?

I don't suppose I can rest before I get this out of my system: Shabana said that people were 'interrogating' her rather than interviewing her.

The applicant sitting across the table is not a sinner or a criminal, or a woman of loose morals. And definitely not my girl friend.

I lost my job at Tumbleweed because they shut shop in India; I was put on PIP at Cisco for not being able to do excel sheets. Is that a crime?

aap ka kya hoga, janaabe ali?

I feel let down not because my judgment about Shabz - apparently - is wrong; but because I thought she would get a decent trial.

I was told during my inquisition that I am not good technically, to be a writer. Now I feel insecure!

That is several years after http://download.oracle.com/docs/cd/B11454_01/11.5.9/acrobat/igs115api.pdf

An excerpt: Oracle Student System Open Interfaces User’s Guide, Release 11i
Part No. B10522-02
Copyright © 2003, 2000 Oracle Corporation. All rights reserved.
Primary Author: Sankara Rajanala
==
One of the contributors, Carl Vadnais, is now VP or above.

sweetness and light

There is too much tamas in this world; it is not darkness, as many think: tamas is materialism. Whether it is of the capitalist (consumerist variety) or the marxist type (long live the shackles of the proles).

Tamasoma jyotirgamaya: from materialism towards light. Wow. From 'being' material to eternal life, eternal light. Because light is the ultimate constant.

Because light is energy. Because light is the life force.

We will discuss sattva and rajas another time; suffice it to say now that rajas works out to something like 'work' sans energy. Routine, compromise, adjustments, squabbles, confrontations, skirmishes, and wars. And ruins...

Satva: the sublime; the formless, the light, the caring and the big deal!
I am not qualified to say anything more now.

==
oh black-eyed girl, what kind of a boy do you want?
I will set up the exact match tomorrow morn
when you wake up he will bring in tea to your dressing table
would you like it black and chini kam? with ginger? maybe chinese herbal...

songs of innocence
raj kapoor can be forgiven for killing directly or indirectly many women; notably, Dimple Kapadia. You would think it was Rajesh Khanna who did it but it was Raj K.

But he also sang (on screen): I learnt everything but to be clever. Hoshiari.
It is true, folk of the world, that I am unclever and choose to remain so.

songs of experience

I have anguish; angst.
I suffer pain in my worldview.
weltshmertz. Hunger
I suffer agony and ecstasy

==
end game

the moon shone on mrs potter and her daughter
who drink vodka with soda water
--
and beware his flashing eyes and floating hair
for he on honeydew hath fed and laid in his lair

for long. and now is out
to kill a mocking bird

who is paromita?

2011-08-18T12:01:00.000-07:00

or, remembering paromita

What was she like? She was healthy and dark. She smiled adequately
Paromita cooked some veg things and all, and did dishes

Paromita Dev ruled the precincts she inhabited
Paramita? I never thought there was a negation of aparimita

Limited; is it a good thing?
Perhaps, in a limited way.

oh well, wasn't this supposed to be about 69 and woodstock?
or is this gonna be about maya chiburdanitze

believe me, I will talk only chestnuts now
no more interlectual coins and doubloons

it rained in the after noon

and the brother offered us an umbrella to get into the dining hall
that was after a look at the skyview palace from ground zero
sipping tea.
with me...

shabz liked it and said so but i am not sure
after we met harry at eflu which was after a trip to

The arts college;

beete hue lamhon

don't say good bye now friends
never no when we meet again

the kasak of yesteryears will remain
maybe in dreams we meet again?

-
father, oh daddy
show up once in a reverie
-

==
my youtube halts every minute; and it works fine for me
my translation and typing speeds are just enough to catch up
==

And so we stood on the platform from which krish shrikanth addressed us;
and one guy in the crowd says: ek cigarette de re (krish had a packet of wills in his transparent shirt pocket).
Around there and about then I listened to gaddar
And perhaps then the sarfaroshi and all that?

==

==

it is a long way and there will be a night
and so we went to the arts college station

the days of friendship and bonding we had during these colorful years
these faces and books and looks and the youth and the wings [winds -ed]

wherever we go the mehek will remain
and haunt us again and again

then before that was the chandelier, there was that argument about the blurb
and a possible bet; a threat. Babe if you lose, how can I win?

--
keep it like flowers in your heart
keep the fire of memories burning

it is gonna be a long distance
and there will be night [said before - ed.]

--
The time we spent together is the wealth
wealth of feeling and thoughts together
wherever we go - the mehek and kasak
will remain forever and ever again

and

Of Rakhi Brothers and Cousin Sisters…

2011-08-17T12:54:00.000-07:00

In north India, it is common for girls to tie the Rakhi on a boy of her age for whom she has a sisterly affection, and call him a Rakhi brother. In the south too, this happens these days but not to the extent to which it happens in the north.

It is said jokingly

... that some boys avoid meeting girls on Raksha Bandhan day (the full moon day in the month of Sawan or Sravana - this year, the 13th, about last week: I was planning to go to Vizag, to get looted. My sis is reasonable, but her daughter is very demanding - and dr lalli, the sis, says, ok, sankanna, whatever your darling niece wants; and the niece is into big-time fleecing!).

There are a lot of jokes about boys with romantic designs on a girl being thwarted by the girl by tying a Rakhi on him. Interestingly, the convention of Rakhi cuts across religions: I have a friend who is born and brought up as a Hindu, but took to Christianity after marriage (to another friend of mine). One Rakhi day five years or so ago, I met her and her husband, with their children, and she naturally tied the Rakhi on my hand. It is much more meaningful than the friendship bands which are in vogue these days. It is much more expensive too - when someone ties the Rakhi on you, you have to give money, however less or more.

I have said recently, and I repeat, tie a friendship bond before the girl ties a rakhi on you: keep the relationship clean, but open.

This year, another girl I have known for years sent me an SMS saying 'I think of you as an elder brother'on Rakhi day. She could not tie the Rakhi since we were in two different cities. She is a muslim and Rakhi is not a part of their culture. Therein lies the greatness of India: that people across communities follow common conventions. It is sad that these common conventions tend to be the Hindu customs, but there are exceptions.

Years ago when I was in Singapore, I had a close friend who was a muslim: I kept the fasting (roza) during the holy month of Ramadan, just to keep him company - although I did not follow it to the T. I used to have coffee and tea during the day.

Talking of inter-communal harmony, I must mention this episode: Years ago, my good friend Salahuddin Tak was playing with color on Holi quite vigorously and one person on whom he was going to put color said don't do that - I am a muslim. Tak saab went ahead and put color, and said: "So am I." I can never forget the enthusiasm with which he used to celebrate diwali. He had a thing against New Year, however: he said it had nothing to do with India. May his tribe grow!

Cousin brothers

In south India, it is a common thing for cross cousins to get married to each other: cross cousins are your maternal uncle's son or daughter, or your paternal aunt's son or daughter. However, it is sacrilege to marry a parallel cousin (your paternal uncle's son or daughter or your maternal aunt's son or daughter). So much so that you address the parallel cousins as cousin brother or cousin sister. In the north of course, all cousins are considered brothers or sisters and marriage with any of them is anathema.
It is quite common in India to ask people when they say My brother works in Bangalore, Is it your own brother or cousin brother?

In Telugu, there is no word for 'bhanja' (a brother's son) or 'banji' (a brother's daughter): your brother's children are your children; they are your sons and daughters - not bhanjas nor bhanjis. So, when I propose to marry off my daughter next year (yes I am old enough) don't think it is my "own" daughter; it could be one I inherit from a brother.

Stop reading, if you don't have a stake in Andhra and pardesh...

Tanguturi Prakasam

It is not the case that I forgot to write about Shri Tanguturi Prakasam; it is just that I don't know much about that great man, except that there is a district in Andhra Pradesh named after him, and that he was the first Chief Minister of the composite Andhra Pradesh state. There is also an apocryphal story, which is likely very true.

He was a great trial court lawyer and on one occasion he was in the midst of an argument when he received a telegram. He is said to have looked at the contents of it and put it in his pocket and continued with his case. People came to know later that the telegram contained news of his wife's death. He was a man of steel and the Sardar Patel of the south.

May we have more districts in his name, since we cannot obviously have more of his tribe.

How about Dr J Geeta Reddy?

2011-08-10T11:01:00.000-07:00

This is an open letter to Mrs gandhi jr. (gandhi and jr used deliberately to contrast with the Senior Mrs Gandhi)

apropos: appointment of Dr J Geeta Reddy as chief minister of andhra pradesh

But before we get to that, a re-look at an old post (on Bakr-id). Now it is Ramzan, but this one (blog) seems to be one I can carry into my corpus oeuvre.

Bakrid Greetings from Bobby George Abraham

Bobby George Abraham is a friend in the technical writing fraternity - based in Trivandrum, Kerala. He is a god-loving (not god-fearing) Christian. As always, as it happens with Bottomline, the Bakrid issue went out without greetings (without the feature itself, in fact). This morning, however, I received Bakrid greetings from Bobby George Abraham. It did not matter that he was a Malayalee Christian and I was a Telugu Hindu. The festival stands for sacrifice, sharing, and charity.

Eid al-Adha (in Arabic) or Bakr Id (in India) is the "Festival of Sacrifice" which is an important religious holiday celebrated by Muslims worldwide to commemorate the willingness of Abraham (Ibrahim) to sacrifice his son Ishmael (Isma'il) as an act of obedience to God, before God intervened to provide him with a ram to sacrifice instead. [Remember Tukaram, who was so engrossed in his praise of the lord as he was stomping on the mud for making pots that he did not see his little son getting into the melee and getting crushed? Remember how God returns all that he lost because of his unflinching faith in God? "Vithala, Vithala, Panduranga Vithala! Sarvam (all) neevani (you are) thalachiti (I thought). Karun-inchavemayya (why don't you pity me)?"]

Back to Bakr Id: the meat (of the ram) is divided into three parts: the fambly [I love that word more than family] retains one third of the share; one third is given to relatives, friends and neighbors; and the other third is given to the poor and needy. Or, the needful.

Holy Ramzan, Bobby George Ibrahim.

The piece on Tukaram above is added today; that is what happens when you revisit your oeuvre before it becomes work.

Has the time come for a change of guard in AP?

[At the time of writing the following, Kiran Kumar Reddy was not 'decided' as the cm of ap. In Bottomline, the column I wrote for about 6 months for Trust News, I recommended Dr J Geeta Reddy as the appropriate candidate. The idea then did not catch on: I think it is time for everyone to relook at that suggestion. I have not changed anything from the earlier blog, just to retain the 'topicality' of it. Read on...]

Speculation is rife that someone from Delhi will take over as the Chief Minister at the end of this week. In the Indian National Congress (INC), it is unusual for a minister or a Member of Parliament to be sent to the home state as CM. But we just had a deviation from that good tradition in Maharashtra. So also, people say that Mr S Jaipal Reddy can be deputed as CM of AP. I beg to differ: Mr Jaipal Reddy is not a true-blue Congressman: he dallied with the Janata party and then the Janata Dal for quite some time. Mrs D Purandhareswari is required in Delhi.

It is going to be a local, very likely a Telangana woman. If Dr J Geetha Reddy is nominated, remember that you have read it first in Bottomline – Trust News.

[This prediction did not come true, of course. I don't really care: it was not a prediction; it was (and is) a suggestion.]

work life integration; friendship day

2011-08-07T03:58:00.000-07:00

First, friendship day

Guys, if you don't wanna end up with a rakhi on your on 13, from a special someone, now is the time to act: put a friendship band on the girl you are interested in. Later it can turn to love and such fun stuff.

But first off, a friendship band would warn the girl that you would not like a rakhi.

Limited offer on virtual friendship bands (until stocks last). Act now.

work-life integration

management gurus talk about work - life balance. That is a load of scum.

The real thing is: work-life integration. What is work? It is action. And life? I tend to think that life is what you know of this world. Karma yoga (work-life integration) is the situation when all your action proceeds from your life (understanding of the world).

Then there is no question of prioritizing your tasks: every task is a part of your life, your work: all of it has to be done.

What that leaves you with is a bit of help in time management: I don't suppose god almighty intended to pack more than 24 hours into a human day.

Give or take 5 seconds.

the day after the carnage

2011-07-29T12:06:00.000-07:00

when we are gone we burn on
we evaporate from body to the sublime

We who care for the do'es and the don'ts
for the Jews and the dolts

for a hairpin, a fancy one, lying on the bank
of the road beside the mall; what hair did it curl?

==

go away into the space that you belong
that is the trick: not to cling on

not counting greenbacks nor hunting green pastures
--
running with the rabbits and hunting with the hares

like when esther's mom cooked salad
that tasted like dental surgery

==
a propos nothing
oh shut up: if you haven't heard prolegomena
===

never heard of stonehenges nor crusades
and master tom i have lived a good life; thank you

why does it always have to be you
alone with me when I am alone

==
why do I cling on?
and on...

none other than macaulay said this: no more public money shall be expended on the chanting at the ...

2011-07-22T12:52:00.000-07:00

I hold this lac of rupees to be quite at the disposal
of the Governor-General in Council,
for the purpose of promoting learning in India,
in any way which may be thought most advisable.
I hold his Lordship to be quite as free to direct
that it shall no longer be employed in encouraging Arabic and Sasnscrit,
as he is [free] to direct that the reward for killing
tigers in Mysore shall be diminished,
or that no more public money shall be expended
on the chanting at the cathedral.

minute points on education and etiquette

2011-07-22T12:11:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time there was a traveling salesman. He used to tell the Vedas on retail basis. He used to prasang [indulge in discourse] at various venues, for a fee. Introduction to rig, two-hours, 3 cents for firangs. (4 annas 4 Indians). The books were for free. Merriman Webster was thrilled about the deal and booked (let us call him now and hence, Sankara) for four seasons.

In summer, Sankara fired Chile for 2 dollars an hour one season. Book signing was extra. Tattoos for free. It was like Woodstock, it was like campus life. It was like youth and love; and like the one act play called waiting for tomorrow.

Sankara used to collect only so much as he required for the day. When his bowl was full, he would say No Thanks, to anyone who offered him more. The checks for signing books and for providing private tuition went to merriman and the devil. And to Daniel Webster.

And so he lived happily ever after, in the footnotes of Gita translations. Those who love stories with a happy ending (those who love love stories with several happy endings) can sign off now.

[the following is not for the weak-willed; tune off now!]

Mainly, Sankara used to travel and talk a lot. He traveled all over India, America, and the far east. When in India, he used to call himself Sankara [good catch: I thought I was the one who named him, as the author. Not so.]; in America, despite his protests, they called him Vive! Kananda. And in the far east, they know him as the laughing Buddha. All his life he spent talking, in travel, with no time to laugh or to forget. Still some call him the clown.

He was a pensive, inexpensive traveling salesman of the Vedas: 5 cents for a two-hour discourse on desire in mid career to 2 dollars an hour at the peak of his power: 4 a.m. on days the full moon is about to sink. He talked about Maya.

when time approaches you, your grammars and styles
[duhkhinkarana-s] will not save you Wren

Boy did he preach, did he prasang!

He would preach the bible like a preacher full of ecstasy and fire
He was also such a lovely creature, women would desire
Rasputin and Lenin, russia’s greatest love makers did aspire
One day to steal promethean fire; he [them] did inspire

In his able salesmanship, the Vedas found followers in lands far afield, found favor with beautiful women; notably: Jane Fonda [yoga is action: hatha (body in action); karma (ergs/energy: therefore work and action); bhakti (knowledge-driven action)] and Julia Roberts. Of whom, more later.

Lenin is said to have been inspired by Sankara (but we are not sure about this. Perhaps it was Raj Kapoor who shaped Lenin’s imagination in an obverse fashion).

For himself, Sankara had a loin cloth, a charpai, and a kettle for boiling noodles. He was known as the two-minute chef. He was also known for his two-hour speeches. Sankara, in short (or in briefs) was a happy man. Oh well, in his loin cloth. In times when the moon shone, Sankara spoke legibly.

Those who like happy endings, love or no love, here is where you get off.

[By the way, this is a retelling of Mohandas gandhi’s story of how he went to Pitts and learnt to play the violin. If you read on, I promise you will be a wiser, if sadder human.]

One day a mouse enters the ashram. The vedic salesman did not mind sharing his abode with ganesha’s mount. And shortly after, he found that his loin cloth had holes in it. He had to get rid of the mouse, and so he gets a cat.

Now the cat needs milk so he begs the people at the prasang for a cow. To take care of the cow, especially when he is away traveling on offshore speaking engagements, the prasangis offer him a cow and a woman whom marries and ends up with four children. [Those who like sad endings can end it all here.]

And he lived happily ever after? Maybe. But is it right for a vedic salesman to retire and lead a happy life – back from vaanaprastha to gaarhasthya? Who will keep the Vedas dry until a generation of intelligent people take shape on earth, if vedic traveling salesmen were to disappear from earth? Who will take care of the cow?

Will the wisdom of yore be buried under the earth for the dearth of salesmen and wandering speakers? for want of walkers and walkmen?

==
Take a while to ponder over those questions. And be back, in a while, to listen out the story…

The whole story takes an ugly turn now. Instead of traveling around the globe, Sankara decides to speak at home. He thinks his children would take the four Vedas to the pinnacle of their applicability and productivity – in good time.

But Macaulay had other plans. He wrote a minute document that ruined Indian psyche. See the Minute on Indian Education: http://www.languageinindia.com/april2003/macaulay.html#minute

But he also said these lovely lines, did Macaulay:
"To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late.
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers,
And the temples of his gods?"

Enough digression; back to the epic/legend of satguru sankara

So Sankara’s children did not care for saama, rk, or yajuh. The fourth child, given to technical gizmos, whom Sankara tried to put into marketing toy cars and AK 47s – even that boy did not show any interest or aptitude for adharva, the practical veda.

Sankara was disheartened and produced two daughters. One went on to become Miss India, sadly. She spent all her life selling Charity. She could have taken tie-and-dry clothes to prada and donna karan, but she chose charity shows.

Sankara, naada sareera para; veda vihara hara; what of the sisters who sell dishwashers and dishwater [pespi, or is it phanta?]

The other went over the cuckoo’s nest.
Can KG replace pound, Ezra?

when summer comes, can monsoon be far behind

2011-07-21T12:11:00.000-07:00

when anguish comes, can tears be far behind?
and when winter comes, can sprint be far behind...

==
very crazy, very crazy about you
yes, believe or not, love you I do
the whole entire time
at compiling and at runtime

===
Jenny is jennifer. Jenni also indeed
the one who could ride a horse at speed
i am a mere cavalier, a liar
a rogue and a layer

my donkey sally was good-looking
and chic. She derived from the bible
Rosy M Banks wrote romantic novels
rosy the elephant drank beer
==

and gutter water?
Nah, not Rosie, who likes it with soda water
and the moon shone and all that - the solitary clock in the sky
a pain in the heck and in the eye

==
Now let us translate afreen, afreen...

let me see if html tags work

Not possible to praise her beauty in words
the body is like ajanta; like a poem, a fragrance
a blooming garden, the first ray of dawn; sandally
and marbly. Sandali sandali, marbly marbly...

are they eyes or dreams
it is night when the eyes look down
and dawn when the eyes look up

and what is nargisi?

oh wo weilest du mein doktor tak?
remembering salah before I go on to tell another tale.
==

==

when you speak plainly of your father...

so when I speak of my father, should I not tell you about my ma. Cool as a cucumber, ever.

two things - both funny.

Ma had a cerebral haemorrhage, a mild attack. Dr Lalli (of whom you will hear more in coming blogs), my sister, was at hand. She administered the appropriate poison, and they shifted Ma to Hyderabad nursing home. Lalli was then working there, I guess. The doctors told Lalli that she did the exact right thing needful at that minute, and that ma is safe. Cool as cucumber, as you will see.

The doctor comes to check ma the next morning. Ma is drowsy after a night of sedation. The doc wants to check her alertness: "Who is this?" (pointing at my sis). Ma says, proudly: My daughter! The doc says: What is her name? Ma turns to sis, saying - Eh, you tell him your name. Well, as it happened, there was no one on record in the hospital who did not know the charismatic Dr Lalita (and it was ma's snub to the doctor: if you don't know her, then you must be a total clown!)

Or so I think she meant. She does not explain herself. Like most mothers. Like all mothers?

==
Then there was the time when Dr Tak and I were working at good ol' OL. We had two flats in the same block in amrita enclave. The big Ashwin, then a toddler, was with us. Ma went onto the terrace, and the door got locked. She goes to the neighbors and calls up office: I confer with Tak saab. It was around 3 pm. I wrote about this before, but what the hex - I will repeat it. "Pandit," says Dr Tak. "I have to meet a printer in panjagutta at 4 pm, so I will go give keys to ma and then proceed to the printers." So he was to leave after an hour or so. A few minutes later he comes around: Hey, I will go now. Ma is locked out on the terrace and it looks like it may rain. I give him the keys and he is off.

Later that evening, Tak is rolling on the floor laughing. "You know what, pandit? Ma is so cool. When I came here, it was drizzling on the terrace (ma was under cover). Little ashwin was playing and she was watching amused. I said I got the keys. [Ma knew no Hindi or English.] She told me in Telugu to keep the keys there - indicating the top step leading to the terrace."

Dr Tak did not stop to show his concern that achwin was getting wet. Oh well, into each life, some rain must fall - right? he thought, and rolled down the stairs into his flat, forgot about the printer he was supposed to visit, and was laughing - until I got there and restored him to his senses with a bit of old monk. Then he sobered up.

==

my ma's son

I am fond of telling this tale, of my unshakable spirit. It was a month after the Latur earthquake. There were tremors (aftershocks) in Hyderabad. In some parts, people came onto the streets - I was told. I was shaken, too, out of sleep at least. It was after the men, women and children of the house left for their pursuits of the day. I was pursuing nothing in particular, so I was alone at home. Waking up, I remember looking at the roof wondering if it would fall. The next question was whether to get out of there or wait for some imponderable collision of plates to fall upon me.

The important thing is to give yourself time. Before I could think of logical and efficacious plans, to deal with the situation, the tremors stopped. Now, all that is moot?

===
Often have I been stirred into thinking
but never into action. never emoting

Ma tujhe salaam

let eyes meet maybe once in a time

2011-07-20T12:26:00.000-07:00

kabhi to karib aao

--
ok then, hand to mouth...
[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I42_0nxUc54]

for a rainy day; smile and vigilante moon
it made him crazy; jimmy blew them off
baby on a door step; needs a mother for mother's day
just another hooker happens everyday [she loved the little baby]

i believe in the gods of america
I believed in the land of the free
noone told me that the gods believe in nothing
so with empty hands pray

[censored]

somebody shouted "Save me!"
hand to mouth; hind to mouth
and the big white door step
Somebody shouted "Maybe"

==
she went to the arms of another mand
and she kissed the powers that be
and they told me the gods believe in nothing; maybe
they don't?
==
what is unsaid, is difficult to understand
but is it impossible that we are crazy about you

and yet we adore you
all the while, we do

==
it takes long to happen
why is it so hard to shapen

==
humne tumko dekhtehi dil diya
and what did you do with it, yaar?

dont break me heart; we are outta our head
so meet the eyes that try to meet you, ahead

==
but the bloke is like going on:
I have seen your face in a crowed place

==
touch your hairsplitting questions
with my heartstrings; let the music play
and why are so many of us crazy about clay
come and be near, sometime if only in dreams

===
we end this section with a link to
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m50p-XScreM

when the time comes, I will talk plainly about my father...

2011-07-20T10:10:00.000-07:00

only we make you drunk with our eyes/looks...
while there are many bar bars around the town

==
you wanna threaten this light of the sky
with a tiny storm; many a lightbug borrowed from this eye

==
oh well, if you wanna listen to the whole tune:
[and see Bhanu Rekha, Ray, darling of the masses]
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cXdJJvpgTvw

and this one: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kWK61iHYc4Y
before you get a taste of the best lines of this number...

==
To walk away with my heart - what all [minnats] appeals she made!
And then when it was all hers, how she looked away, ignoring me!

two times I had hard times: once before you came in
And twice [I mean, the second times], when you left...

==
I will leave you to prod through the text [http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=John+16&version=WE] (strange-looking URL but it gets you there), and find:

"I have told you these things by a story. The time will come when I will not talk by stories. I will tell you about my Father plainly."

I said I will talk plainly of my father; it is time for it. Much as I admire him, this one incident stands out as a pain point. God, what did you mean by that?

Around 7 a.m. my father comes to the kitchen door, with no histrionics: "Is this coffee?" he says quietly; and throws the coffee glass in the general direction of my mother. It luckily hit the wall behind her. He walks off. Mother goes on to make another coffee for him and sends me to give it to him (in the verandah). She doesn't ask, or know, what is wrong with the coffee he threw at her: too hot, not hot enough? She just makes another coffee and sends it. I hated him for that for about 20 years, until once I opened up to a friend and mentioned it: the moment I said it, I realized what a silly grudge I was holding against this one quarter god of mine: mother, father, guru, and guest making up the four quarters - not trinity - of God. Now when I look back, there was nothing else in that mild-mannered demigod-human I knew that I could fault with. But then, God is supposed to be immaculate (not demi not half crown; half human half clown)? It is hard to come to terms with the fact that your parents are human: it is heartbreaking to know that God is - in a way, human too (because we shaped Him thus).

==
you been late in coming but thanks for coming
i was not disheartened or shaken but was stirred a bit

ghabraye the: a bit anxious, a little

rays, rainbow, chhandra-ma, and clouds
stars and songs; lighting and flowers

what all is not in that hair of hers
locked in her locks! Locked up...

==
if only my dreamly youth
were to repeat briefly...

but thanks for showing up
albeit a bit late

a little late, a little lazy
a bit of business and boredom

==
it had happened to us (not hearsay nor heresy)
flowers bloom out of fire
when desire
sets one afire

==

Good morning, Hyderabad...

2011-07-18T16:52:00.000-07:00

It is about 4 30 am. [Now as I end this, it is 5 15 am here.] Since this will be on my blog, I will keep it generic.

The first thing was the article by Deepa D.
[For the benefit of late tuners, the link is: http://deepad.dreamwidth.org/29371.html]

It is all about growing up in an English literate env., "deprived" of local/vernacular culture, "un-fortunate-ly" soaked in western culture. When I go to the site, what do I see, but this gold mine: http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/chimamanda_adichie_the_danger_of_a_single_story.html

Listen and enjoy! Gosh, whatever the writer was who spoke of the god of small stories was brilliant. God of all things? That rings a bell.

/single stories\
\duplex stories/

all the same to a fakir
of the thoroughfare...

==

It may take a couple reads for it to sink in. I find there are nuances that I didn't appreciate the first time.

... a huge concern for the U.S. electrical infrastructure; ... the latest Scientific American.

So, for the first one: about little girls brought up among snow-whilte stories; single stories: Deepa D does bring to forth some unspoken issues. I have no locus standi on that.

Whereof we cannot talk, thereof we must remain silent.

Cut down on air travel, is what I would recommend. The U.S. is primitive! there are no buses or trains connecting the large tracts of land from california to cincinnati, as I discovered when i was in the u.s. I was eager to meet a friend there, and said how about if I hop on to a bus? He laughed and said: that will take you two days to get here!

Ho hum!

False hopes are north; reality is west
empty dreams are east
and I think Louisiana is south
-- No kaddish for Weinbrenner

for the uninitiated...

2011-07-18T12:57:00.000-07:00

This is poetry composition 101.

I write one line and explain in ten lines [for my Telemachus]

"I did not realize that I carried more monkeys on my back;"

So there is this story of a monkey who dips into a bottle of peanuts, OK? And then, it fills up its fist with peanuts; now, with the fist full of peanuts (a fistful of greenbacks?)

Oh well, the monkey cannot pull her/him fist out of the bottle.
The moral of the story is: We are humans. Drop the peanuts and shake your hand off the bottle.

But how does that figure in this line? Let us say there are two monkeys trying to get out of this bottle-neck situation: let us say you feel for them; then, unless you know how to speak with them you cannot say, dahling, let go of the peanuts.

That was the ten-line paraphrase for tele0.

The following line needs no explanation:

"it is now time to say it all (oh yeah, other people are watching):"

The following might need explanation, but I am not in the mood to provide it:

"there exists, in the northerly direction, in the godly presence [once known as himalayas; since gotten into bad repair] someone praying for a 7-life promise of happiness"

OK, whatever you say, my own Boswell? Explicating mine own lines;
Did not kalidasa cry not to be in a trap where talent is shortchanged?

"there exists one who prays, who dreams; who preys: shivji, the yeti.
aka sankara

oh I know how you suffered...

2011-07-18T11:44:00.000-07:00

Was I so far gone that I did not realize that the f was getting coded as r?
Well, I am sorry: it is to be read "safar-ed" and not sarar-ed.

What do I talk of tonite, U499?

About the girl who walked by wearing a shirt with U on it? What does that mean?
Do we talk of safdar hashmi and farida zalaal and aamir khan:
I wonder why the venerable asad/owaisi does not call him a non-muslim
No, let us not digress from edward who said:
fuck imperial america. orientalist europe. I say: Once More.

++
Share my dream share my coca cola
Always the real thing!

What dream and what is the real thing?
Which is coke and which is cock, damn it?

++

babe, you gimme a tour plan when you come a-visiting
and I will try and arrange for some excitement
if that is what you want: for my small tummy,
I want the protection of Lord Rama. Oh Srividya, shut up!

==
oh it was nigel not joseph? [the other brother]
Indeed: not gerian but the bolder one??
==
nor onions no garlic; no chicken nor fish [eat well, sleep well]
learn to be a tambrahm: which you should have, could have - easily

whose fault is it that you fell for mallu teachers
and angloindian bastards? "I fathom it would be a long way, dear!"

===

not too late. do you want me to bash the dali[ght]s out of you?
I could do that; but there is time for a hundred revisions, no?

- come back and be good. send the pants to the pantry
- come back and behave, if you can. else, stay put [in canada or boondocks]

You got a 'warm' welcome awaiting you in Hyderabad
Game for it? write to sankarar@gmail.com

==

for all those who sarar-ed with me, thus far

2011-07-17T06:35:00.000-07:00

You heard about my mom, in these blogs. You read about Sankara Sastry Rjanala Sr, my grandfather, whom I detest. You know a good deal of what I have been through and have been at. Now that you suffered me, sarar-ed with me thus long, thus far - here is one straight from the heart. man to man. father to son. what? son to father.

Actually, it is father to son, as my father gave it to me.

We go on a two-day trip from delhi to hardar and rishikesh. I told him, after we had a dip in the ganges in Hardwar - thought it was safe now - that one has to take (according to the custom in delhi then) as many dips as there are family members. My father already took the usual three dips and we were vending our way home. We stay overnight. The next day, the plan was to go to rishikesh, have a dip and return to delhi by evening. My father had other plans.

He said: Sankara, yesterday I did not get the satisfaction of dipping in the Ganga. I knew what was coming; he wanted to do 30 dips for the united hindu fambly, of which he was god. I said let us go to rishikesh, it is less crowded; we can dip as much as you like. He said, No. Hardwar is a holy place and rishikesh is a sporting hub. Here is where I want another holy dip. He told me I could go back and wait at the ashram for them. I was hot: No thanks, I said. Take your 30 dips, old man! And I counted all thirty.

He was back ashore from the crowd and the muddy ganges, all smiling. He was a wicked old man. Onward we went to risikesh: and right in he went into the waters. I said this is just the beginning. Next year, we will go into char dham.

He said: kid, this is the end, for me.
That was it...

Just a few lines of ol' Patrick's today....

2011-07-17T03:57:00.000-07:00

Oh, she walked unaware of her own increasing beauty
That was holding men's thoughts from market or plough,
As she passed by intent on her womanly duties
And she passed without leisure to be wayward or proud;
Or if she had pride then it was not in her thinking
But thoughtless in her body like a flower of good breeding.
The first time I saw her spreading coloured linen
Beyond the green willow she gave me gentle greeting
With no more intention than the leaning willow tree.

Though she smiled without intention yet from that day forward
Her beauty filled like water the four corners of my being,
And she rested in my heart like a hare in the form
That is shaped to herself. And I that would be singing
Or whistling at all times went silently then,
Till I drew her aside among straight stems of beeches
When the blackbird was sleeping and she promised that never
The fields would be ripe but I'd gather all sweetness,
A red moon of August would rise on our wedding.

October is spreading bright flame along stripped willows,
Low fires of the dogwood burn down to grey water,--
God pity me now and all desolate sinners
Demented with beauty! I have blackened my thought
In drouthts of bad longing, and all brightness goes shrouded
Since he came with his rapture of wild words that mirrored
Her beauty and made her ungentle and proud.
Tonight she will spread her brown hair on his pillow,
But I shall be hearing the harsh cries of wild fowl.

Saluting Salah... Revisiting Pragati Nagar

2011-07-16T06:23:00.000-07:00

In the year 2011, during Ganesh festival, there will be more clay Ganeshas in the city of Hyderabad - than there were last year. Last year itself, because the comrades in Pragati Nagar arranged for the delivery of clay Ganeshas in the entire village, at least those many toxic Ganeshas did not get made; the brothers convinced people, with a convenience to boot, to use clay Ganeshas. May their tribe grow (Let us have more clay Ganeshas and more sociable subalterns.

In fact I never visited Pragati Nagar. But I said revisiting in the sense of going back to what one has written earlier. At that time, I mentioned the ban on plastic ordained by the communist regime in Pragati Nagar; I did not know then that what Pragati Nagar does today, the rest of Hyderabad does tomorrow. We already know that plastic is banned in Hyderabad. The good work of the comrades running the gram panchayat deserves to be commended. And bottomline never begrudges the devil its due. In the previous blog on Pragati Nagar, I did not say Lal Salaam, though I do remember saying the brothers are doing good work. But I meant to; well, now, I say it: Salud, komarads!
Salahuddin (henceforth, Dr Tak) was a jolly soul from the valley of Kashmir. He was at once childish (almost riotous on occasion) and imperious. Witness this: on a certain Holi morning, he was playing with colors at CIEFL. He throws a good measure of color at a bloke (a student of Arabic and Muslim in appearance) and the young fellow says: Bhai saab. Stop it. I am a muslim. Dr Tak (at that time pursuing his doctoral degree) says: Main kaun hoon? [Whoami?]. The boy says I don’t know.
This is where Dr Tak’s aristocratic background comes to play: “Have you heard of Salahuddin?” The boy definitely heard the name, though he never met the most dashing foreign-languages scholar of the CIEFL campus of that timeframe. So he says Yes, I heard the name. Dr Tak, in a most urbane tone says: I am he.
Salute, Salah! Give me ten Dr Tak’s and I will show you harmony in the face of fury in the valley.
==
Everybody started living hand to mouth [and so on and so forth....]
She believed in the Gods of America; she believed in the land of the free
Someone told me [and so on...] that the gods believe in nothing
And the Gods believe in nothing
==
Does Shiv-ji live on mount kailash
The answer to that question is two-fold:
- Wherever Shiv-ji lives, is Mount Kailash
- Whoever lives on Mt Kailash is Shiv-ji
So there, I got you into a catch 22 situation: Shiv-ji is the Yeti we read about; the snowman. Very few people have seen him. But we have geographical evidence in the form of Parvati river. The moon shining over the valley through which Parvati flows is real. As real as the hot springs in which people cook rice bundled in rumaals.
As real as the myth of Parvati, enamoured of Shiv-ji, going into deep meditation. And as real as the heat that engulfed the three worlds because of the intensity of her desire for Shiv-ji. For months and years she did not eat even a leaf: a-parna (no-leaf; she did not even eat a leaf).
Parting shot
In Hindu texts, there is a mention of the ‘ideal wife’, who has six qualities:
- A slave, in daily action (karyeshu daasi)
- A counsellor, when consulting (Karaneshu mantri [mandarin])
- A mother when serving food; and an Houri in bed
- Lakshmi to look at and patient as mother earth
The last two (roopecha lakshmi, kshamaya dharitri) are not very popular: and the poem closes with – Shatkarma yukta kula dharma patni. “The one with these six qualities be thine common-law wife!”
My sister chimed in: What are the qualities in a man, then? Indeed there are no lines that specify what qualities make a man an able “man”. I threw a random guess: Someone, a girl with these qualities, let us say, is choosing a man for herself. What can we say what all she looks for: dress sense, cash in bank, vintage of car, whatever it takes. Some girls I believe look for a sense of humor 
I don’t know what good that does. As Yeats said, we would never know why beautiful women choose crazy salad.

yesterday or tomorrow is the day before full moon

2011-07-13T11:29:00.000-07:00

qal chaudvi ki raat thi [will be?]

All night long there were altercations
some said it was the moon before midnight
some yelled it was your face behind clouds
Loud and clear arguments poured forth from breezy brethren

i was there too and the jokers asked
[me too] [who] kept queit, and smiled
I did too: Wonder but not aloud. Thought
better you remain under cloud cover...

who do we meet in this town? I mean, I
we [I] gave up mehfils and meetings
every brother talks of you and is crazy about you
and i cannot argue with blokes with an aesthetic eye

specially when I am and you
are both high...
you up in the sky
and me with an uproarious eye

the whole crowd is talking of you
[yeah, you are the talk of the town]

we are faqirs of the high road; oh well, I am
stopped your way once or two and held your hand
in my dreams [yeah babe, those were the nightmares
you had; blame it on the guy who never made it home]

oh painless-one, wanna listen to a good line or two:
now listen up
your admirer, your disgrace, your own poet
and your wish [am I]

Let us say I leave your frontyard and become a yogi
so what; the jungle is yours, lord
and the mount is yours; the downtown is all yours
so is the hinterland: call it the boondocks?

my sweatheart is perhaps a little angry this morning...

2011-07-12T11:37:00.000-07:00

mere mehboob shaayad aaj kuch

My darling is angry at this early hour
Perhaps? With me: perhaps...

however intimate I try to get, it [God?] moves off
Is my God angry with me: doesn't want me back?

at all? never again: isn't that nirvana
or what judie felix calls cuba or havana?

ok, back to work: got lost in transliteration
and yet s/he (it/God) moves away from me - in disgust

or in disguise; calling pro, promo, mom, and the presidunk of the newly
united states of India: the real federation. Real friendship and freedom

back to work again: there is so much to listen to...

==
my darling is perhaps - today - a little angry
with me; as much as I talk, God no reply. Y

==
he or she came into the conference and kept silent
the whole time; who was my darling until yesterday
does not talk - to me or anyone at all...

==
i am afraid this coldshouldering will take my life off
what to do with this burden of unseeing the brightest bulb in the harbor?

==
perhaps today a little
angry?

==
looks like good times will come none too soon
the haveli will brigthen up on seeing my heartthrob's oncoming

==

and yet s/he remains so aloof: is that fair, I ask
perhaps; God is today angry or on vacation...

--
I said to Akbaruddin (or will tell when time comes)
That there are two gods: one God and One Goddess.

==
There is goddest but that has to wait until another blog
My applepie is waiting, to be tested...

wasteland revisited

2011-07-07T11:16:00.000-07:00

come under the shadow of this rock
and I will roll you into a question mark

For the uninitiated: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ocyeWt_shCI
That is ecstacy, and I don't mean the drug. It is sublime

And the opening lines mean:
You, after meeting {you}, we somewhat transformed {we are}
Started reading and humming [tunes of solitude and bliss]

The tranliterated text is:

aap se [you-object] milke [met {after}] hum [we] kuch [somewhat] badalse [transformed] hue [we are]

sher padhne lage, gun gunaane lage
poems reading {we} started; hum-humming {we} started
==
The following lines are freely translated:

once upon a time was famous our gravity
and now I keep smiling all the way
wherever you see me; whenever.
--
And this is mine own line:
coz i see U in every being, critter, and rock

==
Heavy? Ask someone who is carting it up the hill
what fun it is: to be; to be in love; to being love...

--
Not getting the drift?
You are not misunderstanding me well enough

uma thesaurus: now that the beast has been named...

2011-07-06T15:16:00.000-07:00

Oh yeah, what is this four-legged beast called love,
Shank (she said); "what a waste!" she cried...
Looking at the moonlit sky (with me beside)
circa 1989: who knows, U499, and who cares?

Celebrate, she said. He too said, did not he?
Go forth and enjoy! Did not He...

In godskingdom there are orangelemondrinks aplenty
Orange Lemon drinks are being supplied at authoritative rates (here):

gemini circus

Come on, folks, and rally aroud if you hear
a battle cry for core humanity and chores
and peace of a piece of mind; the 'jerk'?
>>hiding behind clouds?

forget it

no, there is no way i can say this
other than in those words I spat
at her; at you. at myself and God
uber alles, der self: mit grief

--
no, I don't know what is grief (or I don't know what is bliss?)
in german/deutsch; just an aryan touch, I thought would help.

==
Bitte ein bitchen ind-utva. Howabout
A bit of saffron with biryani, maybe?

Why fake it: Forest Gump and when harry met sally...

2011-07-06T13:49:00.000-07:00

OK, let us address the three points mentioned in the title of this 'blog'.

Why fake it?

So, how can one 'fake' or faint (almost?) for one half hour on skin fliks? Isn't it obvious? It is all fake. So, cut out the ugly nasty games and get closer - heard of the word "intimacy"? Oh, I did not know that Vatsayana drew pictures: wasn't he a sociologist or something?

Check it out on www.m-w.com for intimacy. Maybe there is a site called intimacy.com?
You never know...

As children, we grew up on a curriculum of Caligula Caesar and Last Tango in Paris: where are the children of today headed (or heading?)

More recently, Sherwood Forests: a dash of feminism and a touch of jung
Eric fromm und Angst Vorm Fliegen

==

The next item on our agenda for tonite, babies (ok, boys and girls) is: Forest Gump
--

Why not? Shit happens...

Do we have to subject our kids to "oh god I am coming" scenes to put them into regular schools rather than special schools; what is wrong with special teachers who can deal with differently capable kids? Oh no! No son of mine is going to a special school; I will face (or fake) an orgasm for it...

God creates or 'delivers' imperfect models to us (Gump - for gods' sakes): if you apply the 6-sigma rule, [a hell of a lot more than] one out of a million is born with one of the following 'incurable' conditions(in alphabetical order):

-- asthma (genetic)
-- bronchitis (genetic + env)
-- cancer (see also: fraud; freud)
-- death (chiefly caused by life)
-- eating (eating house of delhi)
-- fasting (unto death; remember bobby sands and potti sriramulu)
-- haste
-- illegal sex
-- java code dysfunction
-- kaput breaks
-- lumpen elements throwing errors at your screen
-- monotony - I mean, monogamyam
-- nano cars, when pushed from begumpet to bengaluru
-- peculiar hair styles: gosh, keep that outta my hair
-- quwwalis, but of course; your are one with God. Wanna die or later?
-- rss can kill too
-- suspended disbelief (Negative Capability)
-- turpentine (more expensive than ganneru)
-- uma thurmon (killed many already)
-- volks, also known as folks: they smother you with love
-- wagons of all manner: volkswagens, wagonRs, railway wagons, station wagons,
and gypsys - if you get in the way. Bloody marys along the way, if you like...
-- xantheppe: did she kill old socrates?
-- Y am I writing still when everyone has gone...
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Ok, the third thing is simple: watch When Harry Met Sally:
Don't fake; it helps noone!

[yeah, the skinfliks will bloom...]

goodnite folks - or volks....

Remembering Rajanala Sankara Sastry Sr

2011-06-26T11:14:00.000-07:00

That was my grandfather. Why, he IS my grandfather. And then came my father and thence me. RSS Sr told me once a story, of a Brahmin on his way to another village. The other village is farther than he thought it was, and around noon, he is desperately hungry and thirsty. He comes across a house in the middle of that nowhere, and the man of the house asks him in, and offers him food. The Brahmin eats with haste, without hesitation. The gent then offers him water (the Brahmin is now satiated). Says: “Paapi (sinner), you want a pure Brahmin like me to drink your unholy water?”

I had a huge disagreement with RSS Sr (henceforth, grandpa). I said: “If a man is hungry and thirsty – alphabetically, hunger (aakali) comes before thirst (dappika). But isn’t it more logical for the Brahmin to have a little water, to have taken rest for a bit; maybe converse with the house-holder on matters spiritual and sacred? Having eaten off the house-holder’s kindness, why not drink a little more of his hospitality?”

Grandpa tried to argue it out on the grounds that hunger is a greater evil than thirst. I am still in two minds on that issue.

==

My uncle tells me that RSS Sr took sanyas, practically, when my father – his eldest or oldest son – refused to learn Smarta; my father, apparently wanted to go for English education, which – as it turns out – is smarter. And so RSS Sr went into what I like to call vaanaprastha (life in the wilderness; “life in bewilderment?”). Poor sap did not know what hit him between the eyes: shit hit him!

And so the breed got smarter and smarter. I can drool in coils and drawl faintings. Ha ha.

==
Ah, there is still the main point of this blog, which makes it a truly weblog. I was talking to my uncle this very p.m., who told me about RSS Sr listening to VividhBharati. There were a barrelful of commercial advertisements, said uncle. And he said: “Grandpa asked: ‘Will all these ads make people want more?”

Huh? Or duh?

==

Boys and girls, I am Rajanala Sankara sastry (that is already a mouthful, so I prefer to not use the Jr tag at the end of my name; suffice it to put sastry with initial lower-cased s.)
==

I have similar questions as did Rajanala Sankara Sastry Sr. About the world as it exists, about the way things are shaping up. Or down…

Reposting: Wardrobe Failure In The Empire Of Prada

2011-06-26T10:30:00.000-07:00

Oh well, in the previous post, I said: beautiful women and girls have a greater appeal than boys and women; I meant - 'boys and men'. Oh well, in this day and age - does it matter, I mean the gender? Old women of both sexes, said Uma. oui ma!

==
here is the revised retold Grimm's tale of wardrobe malfunction in the empire of Prada:

==

Many years ago there lived an Empress who was so fond of new clothes that she spent all her money on them in order to be beautifully dressed. She did not care about the arts or the theatre; she only liked to go out walking to show off her new clothes. As it is often said of an Empress, “She is in the boudoir,” they always said here, 'The Empress is in the wardrobe.' All this, by the way, happened in the great Empire of Prada.

One day two excellent weavers arrived from the land of China; they said that they knew how to manufacture the most beautiful cloth imaginable. Not only were the texture and pattern uncommonly beautiful, but the clothes which were made of the stuff possessed this wonderful property that they were invisible to anyone who was out of sync with contemporary fashion. I mean, folk who don’t subscibe to the Vogue…

The Empress thought: I could distinguish the fashionable and trendy from the stolid and dull, if I wore those clothes! And she gave both the weavers much money, so that they might begin their work.

The weavers placed two weaving-looms, and began to do their work; they also obtained the finest silk and the best gold, and worked at the looms till late into the night. And beyond: they slept in the midnight rooms. Infyrior companies call them ‘dorms’ (as in “bunker beds in which DORks sleep @ Midnights.”) After a while, the Empress thought: 'I will send my old and honoured girlfriend to the weavers. She can judge best what the cloth is like, for she knows fashion and sub-edits Vogue.'

The Empress’ girlfriend went to see what was cooking (or being woven) and thought: 'Dear me! I can see nothing!' But she did not say so. As a matter of fact, the weavers put nothing on the looms. [It is said that they could fit the “whole nine yard” in a match box, but that is another tale – another day.]

'Dear, dear!' thought the Vogue’s sub-editor: ‘Can I be so unfashionable? I have never thought that, and nobody must know it! Can I be not fit for my job? No, I must certainly not say that I cannot see the cloth!'’

'Have you nothing to say about it?' asked one of the men who was weaving.

'Oh, it is lovely, most lovely!' answered the chick who appeared on Vogue in her youth and sub-edited it later in life [and wrote Sultry Deys]. 'What texture! What colours! [So earthy… and so forth.] Yes, I will tell the Empress that it pleases me very much.'

'Now we are delighted at that,' said both the weavers, and thereupon they named the colours and explained the make of the texture.

The weavers now wanted more money, more silk, and more gold to use in their weaving. Sure enough, they got all that...

The Empress soon sent a worthy gay designer [let us call him Rohit Balls] to see how the weaving was getting on, and whether the cloth would soon be finished. It was the same with him as with the girlfriend [let us call her Ms Dey]; he looked and looked, but because there was nothing on the empty loom he could see nothing.

'Is it not a beautiful piece of cloth?' asked the two weavers, and they pointed to and described the splendid material which was not there.

Under peer pressure, the high priest of fashion and gaiety praised the cloth which he did not see, and expressed to them his delight at the beautiful colors and the splendid texture. He said the texture was full-bodied.

Now we have something ‘earthy’ [according to the girlfriend] and ‘full-bodied’ [according to the gay high priest of fashion]! Full-bodied, indeed, as you will see soon.

Soon, everybody in the town was talking of the magnificent cloth. Now the Empress went to see for herself while it was still on the loom. The weavers were now weaving with all their might, but without fibre or thread on the loom. The Vogue sub-editor and the gay designer started praising the colour and texture of the cloth; and started pretty much a chorus: earthy, full-bodied, subtle, sublime, sunburnt, sunbathed, pastel, plastered, and blah…

'What!' thought the Empress: 'I can see nothing! This is indeed horrible! Am I not trendy? [And quickly figured out that the two fashionistas could see something that she could not.] And said: “Oh, it is very beautiful.” And then she nodded pleasantly, and examined the empty loom, for she would not say that she could see nothing.

The following day, the Empress plans a procession in which she would display the new acquisition to her wardrobe: the weavers were up and were working by the light of over sixteen candles. The people could see that they were very busy making the Empress’ new clothes ready.

The weavers (who were also tailors – I mean, fashion designers, actually) cut the cloth with huge scissors in the air, sewed with needles without thread, and then said at last:
“Now the clothes are finished!”

Everyone said: “Handspun clothes are so comfortable that one would imagine one had nothing on at all; but that is the beauty of it!”

“Will it please your Highness graciously to take off your clothes,” said the weavers, “then we will put on the new clothes, here before the mirror.”

And so they dressed the Empress in empty clothes.

'Yes,' said all the courtiers, but they could see nothing, for there was nothing to see, by way of a dress. Let us not talk about what they could see.

You know the old yarn, right: The Empress went along in the procession under the splendid canopy, and all the people in the streets and at the windows said, “How matchless are the Empress’ new clothes! How beautifully the dress hangs!”

A thirteen year old girl in the crowd chimed in: “Mom, I want those fine clothes, can I please?” And the whole teen crowd in the city wails: “Mom/dad/honey/dear, I want those clothes and appear on the cover of Vogue. Please…”

[With apologies to the Grimm brothers, to excellent weavers of East Bengal and China, and teenagers who don’t know the difference between the Naked and the Dead. Check out: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Naked_and_the_Dead_(film)]

Indra Nuyi Said Nothing New: Read Robert Frost First

2011-06-25T03:09:00.000-07:00

“What is work, what is play; what is life, what is career: it is all one and the same,” or something to that effect, I was told, said Indra Nuyi of Pepsico. I go with that view: in today’s world, as in Robert Frost’s, the big thing is to enjoy your work, play at work, live at work, and work at home. Sounds all confusing?

OK, let us start disambiguating this with the lines from the big daddy of American poetry, Robert Frost:

My object in living is to unite
My avocation and my vocation
As my two eyes make one in sight.
Only where love and need are one,
And the work is play for mortal stakes,
Is the deed ever really done.

==
Avocation, according to www.m-w.com is:
a subordinate occupation pursued in addition to one's vocation especially for enjoyment : hobby [it is a diversion, a distraction, according to Webster’s; but be that as it may…]

Let us say my avocation is blogging, which gives me enjoyment, and it is my hobby. And if, for some reason, I get paid for it – wow, is there anything better than that in life?

Vocation, according to that veritable source of definitions, once again, is:
the work in which a person is employed [namely, the work for which a person gets paid].

Is that now somewhat clear: you do things you love to do, and you get paid for it. But how on earth is that possible? Any work you do and get paid for becomes abhorrent, for the very reason that you get paid for it, no? You would rather sit at something fishy and drink beer (for which you have to pay). You would rather play skittles all your life, right?

==
But then, look at Sachin Tendulkar…

Sachin loves cricket: whether you accept the fact that he is the god of cricket or not, you cannot deny that he loves what he does: playing cricket. That is his vocation and avocation; that is his distraction, digression, hobby, and career.

Can all of us play cricket as well as He does? Isn’t that a tall order? [The Sachin is not very tall…]

My point is not that we should all get into cricket and enjoy it and become cricketing gods: that is Sachin’s job (or life or career). But if you work at it (the only worthwhile work you should be at), all of us can find deep within us a line of activity which syncs up our soul’s desire and bodily abilities.
For my part….
I found that I like editing and writing; I don’t get paid for the writing I ‘indulge’ in; sometimes I get brickbats for what I write. However, my writing ‘feeds into’ my editing skills, for which I get paid.

I think I have found the right work-life integration (not balance).

I write this particular blog for the benefit of my horrible boss. If she were not such a beautiful woman, I would have thrown him in to the lake near my office.

==
Let us face it: in India, girls and women who manage to get past the sex-determination tests do have an advantage over boys and women. Look at the crowded male compartments and the spaced out ladies compartments in the local trains in Hyderabad. The ladies compartment is much better than the first-class compartment.

==
Glass ceiling and all that; oh well, I got to review Camille Paglia’s Sex, Art and American Culture another day and talk about feminism and Sushi Tharoor. Suffice it to say for now, More Power To Women!

Mr Perfect: A Clean, Family Entertainer*****

2011-06-15T10:31:00.000-07:00

I give this five-star rating for the following reasons:
- Kajal Agarwal’s outstanding performance – when she smiles, she is irresistible; when she cries, being a man, I cried like a baby, with tears rolling down my cheeks!
- Prabhas’ cool outlook and clothes (though he wears a Donna Karan sweatshirt once; wonder if that was intended to appeal to a queer audience!)
- Tapsi in full costume, except in one ‘item’ number: my god, she is cute!
- A fresh look at love, romance, and marriage (and the Hindu undivided fambly), never before seen in Telugu films – or even bollywood flicks. Karan Joker be damned!
- Kajal Agarwal (forget about her performance). Period!

Well, there is a sixth reason, which is this song (forgive my feeble attempt at translating it):

It is chilly, and my mind turns toward you
It’s brilling and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe...

Raindrops are falling on my head and my mind is hopping hither thither
And my youth suffocates me...

Small, small hopes are pinching me and pushing off
And small little thoughts pierce my head and kill me, almost...

I feel as if you are with me; as if you are my shadow
As if you are looking at me all the time...

In my dreams you are inside my head whispering sweet nothings
I dream that you are my breath and cause of my breathlessness...

We started off with little fights and bonded over bigger ones
We think different and our styles differ so much...

And yet, and yet, as we go along, we get along so much...
What is it with me and with you? Why, oh why is it such?

==
At this point, in this superbly choreographed number:

“Come on and get into the rain,” says Kajal
And Prabhas mouths a silent “No way”.

And promptly, meekly gets into the rain
Where else do you see this in Telugu films?
==
[The answer is simple: It is a typical K Vishwanath film. I wonder if K Dasarath is somehow related to the great man. But definitely, K V was not just an actor in the movie. He surely had a bigger role to play in the making of it. Consider the ]

I feel as if I am slipping into a valley, as if I am floating into the sky
As if the stars are approaching me, I feel as if something is going on inside of me...

Without hesitation I could show my anger at you in front of all
But now, all alone with you, why am I feeling melee-mouthed to tell you of my love for you?

As if I am moving away from me, when I remember your mischief
And when I want to get back to myself, I feel your steps reaching toward me

==
Folks, get ready for the show of your season. Bombabes, watch out! Kajal Agarwal is gonna hit hard where it hurts – your callsheets and pay checks.

==
Good show, Mr K Dasarath; well done again Dil Raju garu. Keep it up Mrs Anita (and Venkateswara creations)! Let us have some more of these wonderful family entertainers. We are thirsty!

Did satyasai ever produce a jackfruit out of his lungi?

2011-05-02T17:19:00.000-07:00

Need and Greed: Gandhi and God

So, was Mohandas Gandhi, the Great Soul, God? Is or was he bigger than Satya Sai or Shirdi Sai? What did all of them teach? Was Gandhi well read? Did he practice what he taught?

Look at this episode, which you all would know…

A woman goes to Swami RamaKrishna, with her son; the boy is fond of sweets and forever hankering for more of them. RamaKrishna tells her to come back with the boy the next day. She does; Swami tells the boy that eating sweets is not good for health, etc. so stop it. The woman is confused: says, “Swami, I thought you would perform a miracle to save my son from this affliction/addiction to sweets; and you simply say – ‘Don’t eat sweets.’ You could have said that yesterday?”

Swami RamaKrishna, the story goes, said: “Well, lady, until yesterday, I was eating a lot of sweets too. I stopped since you came to me, and now I can tell your boy to stop eating sweets. Not otherwise!”

Can you believe that? Did Swami RamaKrishna actually say/do all of that? But, isn’t it a wonderful thing to illustrate the ‘do what you preach’ theory?

OK. When Jesus walked on water…

He was a sailor in a boat? The lake was frozen? Or was He walking on the plank that protruded into the lake, to which people gathered unto in boats: I was told that the high priests among jews were into that kind of preaching, and Jesus doing it (being none other than a son of a carpenter) was a big deal. So the whole nine yard about walking on water; I don’t know if Houdini did that, or Satya Sai even tried; but if the big man of Puttaparthi wants to, he could have produced jackfruit out of nowhere. Believe me: seeing is believing and believing is seeing. Ask bishop Berkeley. Or maybe I spelt something wrong; wow, do you care? (As in, “Dude, I don’t; and don’t bother me neither.”)

I go off the track again: in Razor’s Edge, W. Somerset Maghum has this to narrate: the protagonist of R-edge visits (let us assume Sri Ramana) and says: ‘Guru-ji, I heard this story about a great man in my travels across the country. It seems that an old sadguru wants to cross the river, and asks the boat man for a ride. The boat man asks for 2 anna’s; the sadguru does not have the money and the boat man says sorry, guruji, I cannot take you in my boat, if you cannot cough up the money. So the sadguru, apparently, walks across the river and gets to the other shore.” Maharshi Ramana says: “Yeah, what is the question you had in mind?” The westerner (visitor, likely Maghum himself) says: “Well, is it possible to walk on water? How does one go about doing that kind of stuff?” [You could call someone across the globe on your computer using something called Lync and headphones and mic, in case you did not know; so what?”

Bhagawan Ramana smiled and said: I assume you have come to India in quest of Nirvana, Mukti, and such silly stuff; in those terms, walking on water is as good as the 2 – anna’s that the boat man asked from the sadguru. Two anna’s will get you across the river as well as walking on water.

When Jesus walked on water, perhaps he was a sailor? [Leonard Cohen]

Need and greed

Gosh, oh Gandhi Almighty, forgive me, for I have swayed away from the topic too far. The thing is the long lecture I gave to my niece: in short, it is as follows…

“You have three watches; one titan fast track; but you tell me to get one more anyway, because you can have it. But desire/need is something different altogether: when you want something badly, you will kill (trying to get it) or die. And when you get what you want, whether it is two or three watches, you will not look at the 4th. You started out to get three, and you don’t care if there are 3 million; you wanted 3 and you still want those 3. Let others take the rest. That is desire. If you cannot get three, well, go on, fight to the finish and go get them – whatever it takes.”

I think that is stupid of me to say to a child of 13. I make up for it by writing the blog, which I hope will be read by a cross-section of people averaging more than 13 years.
Need and Greed: Gandhi and God

So, was Mohandas Gandhi, the Great Soul, God? Is or was he bigger than Satya Sai or Shirdi Sai? What did all of them teach? Was Gandhi well read? Did he practice what he taught?

Look at this episode, which you all would know…

A woman goes to Swami RamaKrishna, with her son; the boy is fond of sweets and forever hankering for more of them. RamaKrishna tells her to come back with the boy the next day. She does; Swami tells the boy that eating sweets is not good for health, etc. so stop it. The woman is confused: says, “Swami, I thought you would perform a miracle to save my son from this affliction/addiction to sweets; and you simply say – ‘Don’t eat sweets.’ You could have said that yesterday?”

Swami RamaKrishna, the story goes, said: “Well, lady, until yesterday, I was eating a lot of sweets too. I stopped since you came to me, and now I can tell your boy to stop eating sweets. Not otherwise!”

Can you believe that? Did Swami RamaKrishna actually say/do all of that? But, isn’t it a wonderful thing to illustrate the ‘do what you preach’ theory?

OK. When Jesus walked on water…

He was a sailor in a boat? The lake was frozen? Or was He walking on the plank that protruded into the lake, to which people gathered unto in boats: I was told that the high priests among jews were into that kind of preaching, and Jesus doing it (being none other than a son of a carpenter) was a big deal. So the whole nine yard about walking on water; I don’t know if Houdini did that, or Satya Sai even tried; but if the big man of Puttaparthi wants to, he could have produced jackfruit out of nowhere. Believe me: seeing is believing and believing is seeing. Ask bishop Berkeley. Or maybe I spelt something wrong; wow, do you care? (As in, “Dude, I don’t; and don’t bother me neither.”)

I go off the track again: in Razor’s Edge, W. Somerset Maghum has this to narrate: the protagonist of R-edge visits (let us assume Sri Ramana) and says: ‘Guru-ji, I heard this story about a great man in my travels across the country. It seems that an old sadguru wants to cross the river, and asks the boat man for a ride. The boat man asks for 2 anna’s; the sadguru does not have the money and the boat man says sorry, guruji, I cannot take you in my boat, if you cannot cough up the money. So the sadguru, apparently, walks across the river and gets to the other shore.” Maharshi Ramana says: “Yeah, what is the question you had in mind?” The westerner (visitor, likely Maghum himself) says: “Well, is it possible to walk on water? How does one go about doing that kind of stuff?” [You could call someone across the globe on your computer using something called Lync and headphones and mic, in case you did not know; so what?”

Bhagawan Ramana smiled and said: I assume you have come to India in quest of Nirvana, Mukti, and such silly stuff; in those terms, walking on water is as good as the 2 – anna’s that the boat man asked from the sadguru. Two anna’s will get you across the river as well as walking on water.

When Jesus walked on water, perhaps he was a sailor? [Leonard Cohen]

Need and greed

Gosh, oh Gandhi Almighty, forgive me, for I have swayed away from the topic too far. The thing is the long lecture I gave to my niece: in short, it is as follows…

“You have three watches; one titan fast track; but you tell me to get one more anyway, because you can have it. But desire/need is something different altogether: when you want something badly, you will kill (trying to get it) or die. And when you get what you want, whether it is two or three watches, you will not look at the 4th. You started out to get three, and you don’t care if there are 3 million; you wanted 3 and you still want those 3. Let others take the rest. That is desire. If you cannot get three, well, go on, fight to the finish and go get them – whatever it takes.”

I think that is stupid of me to say to a child of 13. I make up for it by writing the blog, which I hope will be read by a cross-section of people averaging more than 13 years.

Osho and Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan: Indian Philosohy and the Wild West

2011-04-21T13:18:00.000-07:00

Osho says the most beautiful word in the inglis lengvage is ‘fuck’ – it is a verb, it is a noun, it is an objective (he means; adjective). He rants on that way for 10 minutes; there is canned laughter in the audio I listened to.

What is the west up to? They know he is a buffoon. Why do they make him out to be a ‘guru’ (if only of sex)? What is the big conspiracy here? This is what it is all about: the west wants to showcase Osho as the greatest Indian thinker of the modern times; and prove that he is a clown; and ergo, all Indian philosophy is nonsense. Sounds like a good plan? Well, it sure worked. Then on, there are a whole lot of other jokers who made it big in the American landscape.

The sad part is that, young people in India find that Osho is a great thinker. It is sad and it is bad. Sex and love have to go together; didn’t Rekha, the movie star say that? “If two people say they are in love with each other,” she said, “and don’t go to bed together – I don’t call it love”. Elementary, my dear Whatson? Osho goes on for a half hour talking about love of the mind (romantic love), of the body (sexuality) and love (which is really sex). Ho hum! Did he ever do it? Did he produce children? Why should you have sex if not to produce children?

Osho is a sham that the west picked up to prove that Indian philosophy is all balls. It is like picking on Any Rand to show how apologists of capitalism are shallow. You must talk to the best of the breed; as I said – Dr S Radhakrishnan; we will return to him in a bit. In the meantime, just look at some ugly things Osho was involved in: fraud, biological terrorism, and false prophecy. Read on…

“In 1981 the increased tension around the Pune ashram, along with criticism of its activities and threatened punitive action by the Indian authorities, provided an impetus for the ashram to relocate to America. On 1 June Osho travelled to the United States on a tourist visa, ostensibly for medical purposes…
“According to Susan J. Palmer the move to the United States "appears to have been a unilateral decision on the part of Sheela." Gordon (1987) notes that Sheela and Osho had discussed the idea of establishing a new commune in the U.S. in late 1980, although he did not agree to travel there until May 1981…. Osho never sought outside medical treatment during his time in America, leading the Immigration and Naturalization Service to believe that he had a preconceived intent to remain there. Osho later pleaded guilty to immigration fraud, including making false statements on his initial visa application.”
This gets really ugly, as you can see:
“The salmonella attack was noted as the first confirmed instance of chemical or biological terrorism to have occurred in the United States. Osho stated that because he was in silence and isolation, meeting only with Sheela, he was unaware of the crimes committed by the Rajneeshpuram leadership until Sheela and her "gang" left and sannyasins came forward to inform him. A number of commentators have stated that in their view Sheela was being used as a convenient scapegoat. Others have pointed to the fact that although Sheela had bugged Osho's living quarters and made her tapes available to the U.S. authorities as part of her own plea bargain, no evidence has ever come to light that Osho had any part in her crimes. Nevertheless Gordon (1987) reports that Charles Turner, David Frohnmayer and other law enforcement officials, who had surveyed affidavits never released publicly and who listened to hundreds of hours of tape recordings, insinuated to him that Osho was guilty of more crimes than those for which he was eventually prosecuted. Frohnmayer asserted that Osho's philosophy was not "disapproving of poisoning" and that he felt he and Sheela had been "genuinely evil".
Osho's imprisonment and transfer across the country took the form of a public spectacle – he was displayed in chains, held first in North Carolina then Oklahoma and finally in Portland. Officials took the full ten days legally available to them to transfer him from North Carolina to Portland for arraignment. After initially pleading "not guilty" to all charges and being released on bail Osho, on the advice of his lawyers, entered an "Alford plea" – a type of guilty plea through which a suspect does not admit guilt, but does concede there is enough evidence to convict him – to one count of having a concealed intent to remain permanently in the U.S. at the time of his original visa application in 1981 and one count of having conspired to have sannyasins enter into sham marriages to acquire U.S. residency. Under the deal his lawyers made with the U.S. Attorney's office he was given a 10-year suspended sentence, five years' probation and a $400,000 penalty in fines and prosecution costs and agreed to leave the United States, not returning for at least five years without the permission of the United States Attorney General.”
What do we have here? Visa fraud, sham marriages, bioterrorism. And Osho International Meditation Resort – strictly for the rich and famous.

Has anyone heard of Dr Sarvepalli Radhakrishan?

No one I am sure reads his works, but has anyone even heard the name? If you cannot approach Adi Sankara and other great thinkers of India – take a look at the work of Dr S Radhakrishnan.
“Dr. Radhakrishnan stated that Western philosophers, despite all claims to objectivity, were influenced by theological influences of their own culture. He wrote books on Indian philosophy according to Western academic standards, and made all efforts for the West to give serious consideration to Indian philosophy. In his book "Idealist View of Life", he made a powerful case for the importance of intuitive thinking as opposed to purely intellectual forms of thought. He is well known for his commentaries on the Prasthana Trayi namely, the Bhagavadgita, the Upanishads and the Brahma Sutra.”
The west chooses to go gaga over the buffoon Osho. And debunks him and sends him to prison. And they have no clue that the real giant of Indian philosophy is Dr Radhakrishnan.

Osho probably never managed to get up his member and kept talking about the F word, just to show that he was in the game. Come on, it happens to the best of men; with or without a fleet of Rolls Royces. No amount of talking is going to put fire in the loins. May his soul rust in piss.

Wardrobe Failure In The Empire Of Prada

2011-04-18T11:21:00.000-07:00

A Grim Fairytale: The Empress’ New Clothes

Many years ago there lived an Empress who was so fond of new clothes that she spent all her money on them in order to be beautifully dressed. She did not care about the arts or the theatre; she only liked to go out walking to show off her new clothes. As it is often said of an Empress, “She is in the boudoir,” they always said here, 'The Empress is in the wardrobe.' All this, by the way, happened in the great Empire of Prada.

One day two excellent weavers arrived from the land of China; they said that they knew how to manufacture the most beautiful cloth imaginable. Not only were the texture and pattern uncommonly beautiful, but the clothes which were made of the stuff possessed this wonderful property that they were invisible to anyone who was out of sync with contemporary fashion. I mean, folk who don’t subscibe to the Vogue…
The Empress thought: I could distinguish the fashionable and trendy from the stolid and dull, if I wore those clothes! And she gave both the weavers much money, so that they might begin their work.

The weavers placed two weaving-looms, and began to do their work; they also obtained the finest silk and the best gold, and worked at the looms till late into the night. And beyond: they slept in the midnight rooms.
After a while, the Empress thought: 'I will send my old and honoured girlfriend to the weavers. She can judge best what the cloth is like, for she knows fashion and edits Vogue.'

The Empress’ girlfriend went to see what was cooking (or being woven) and thought: 'Dear me! I can see nothing!' But she did not say so. As a matter of fact, the weavers put nothing on the looms. [It is said that they could fit all of the nine yard in a match box, but that is another tale – another day.]
'Dear, dear!' thought she, 'Can I be so unfashionable? I have never thought that, and nobody must know it! Can I be not fit for my job? No, I must certainly not say that I cannot see the cloth!'

'Have you nothing to say about it?' asked one of the men who was weaving.

'Oh, it is lovely, most lovely!' answered the chick who appeared on Vogue in her youth and edited it later in life [and wrote Sultry De’s]. 'What a texture! What colours! [So earthy… and so forth.] Yes, I will tell the Empress that it pleases me very much.'

'Now we are delighted at that,' said both the weavers, and thereupon they named the colours and explained the make of the texture.

The weavers now wanted more money, more silk, and more gold to use in their weaving. Sure enough, they got all that...

The Empress soon sent a worthy gay designer [let us call him Rohit Balls] to see how the weaving was getting on, and whether the cloth would soon be finished. It was the same with him as with the girlfriend [let us call her Ms De]; he looked and looked, but because there was nothing on the empty loom he could see nothing.

'Is it not a beautiful piece of cloth?' asked the two weavers, and they pointed to and described the splendid material which was not there.

Under peer pressure, the high priest of fashion and gaity praised the cloth which he did not see, and expressed to them his delight at the beautiful colours and the splendid texture. He said the texture was full-bodied.

Now we have something ‘earthy’ [according to the girlfriend] and ‘full-bodied’ [according to the gay high priest of fashion!] Full-bodied, indeed, as you will see soon.

Soon, everybody in the town was talking of the magnificent cloth.
Now the Empress went see for herself while it was still on the loom. The weavers were now weaving with all their might, but without fibre or thread on the loom. The girlfriend and the gay designer started praising the colour and texture of the cloth; and started pretty much a chorus: earthy, full-bodied, subtle, sublime, sunburnt, and blah…

'What!' thought the Empress: 'I can see nothing! This is indeed horrible! Am I not trendy? [And quickly figured out that the two fashionistas could see something that she could not.] And said: “Oh, it is very beautiful.” And then she nodded pleasantly, and examined the empty loom, for she would not say that she could see nothing.

The following day, the Empress plans a procession in which she would display the new acquisition to her wardrobe: the weavers were up and were working by the light of over sixteen candles. The people could see that they were very busy making the Empress’ new clothes ready.

The weavers (who were also tailors and fashion designers really) cut the cloth with huge scissors in the air, sewed with needles without thread, and then said at last:
“Now the clothes are finished!”

Everyone said: “Spun clothes are so comfortable that one would imagine one had nothing on at all; but that is the beauty of it!”

“Will it please your Highness graciously to take off your clothes,” said the weavers, “then we will put on the new clothes, here before the mirror.”

And so they dressed the Empress in empty clothes.

'Yes,' said all the courtiers, but they could see nothing, for there was nothing there. [Let us not talk about what they _could_ see.]

You know the old yarn, right: The Empress went along in the procession under the splendid canopy, and all the people in the streets and at the windows said, “How matchless are the Empress’ new clothes! How beautifully the dress hangs!”

A thirteen year old girl in the crowd chimed in: “Mom, I want those fine clothes, can I please?” And the whole teen crowd in the city wails: “Mom/dad/honey/dear, I want those clothes and appear on the cover of Vogue. Please…”

[With apologies to the Grimm brothers, to excellent weavers of East Bengal and China, and teenagers who don’t know the difference between the Naked and the Dead. Check out: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Naked_and_the_Dead_(film)]

How Kaavya Got Pilloried and Was Frustrated....

2011-04-09T09:22:00.000-07:00

Revisiting Opal Mehta: Legally Blonde

In 2006 Ian McEwan was accused of plagiarism; specifically that a passage in Atonement (2001) closely echoed a passage from a memoir, No Time for Romance, published in 1977 by Lucilla Andrews. McEwan acknowledged using the book as a source for his work.[21][22] McEwan had included a brief note at the end of Atonement, referring to Andrews’s autobiography, among several other works.[23] Writing in The Guardian in November 2006, a month after Andrews' death, McEwan professed innocence of plagiarism while acknowledging his debt to the author.[24][25][26] Several authors defended him, including John Updike, Martin Amis, Margaret Atwood, Thomas Keneally, Zadie Smith, and Thomas Pynchon.

Around the same time, a young Indian-Amreican writer, Kaavya Viswanathan was being pilloried for plagiarism:

How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild, and Got a Life is a young adult novel by Kaavya Viswanathan, an Indian-American woman who wrote it just after she graduated from high school. Its 2006 debut was highly publicized, but the book was withdrawn after allegations that portions had been plagiarized from several sources. Viswanathan apologized and said any similarities were "completely unintentional and unconscious." All shelf copies of Opal Mehta were ultimately recalled and destroyed by the publisher, and Viswanathan's contract for a second book was canceled.

Because she is an Indian-American? Because she is young and because it is her first book? Or, god(dess) forbid, because she was a ‘girrl’?

One of the initial responses to the book was (http://www.usatoday.com/life/books/reviews/2006-03-29-how-opal-mehta_x.htm):

“How Opal Mehta Got Kissed is a hysterically funny train wreck of a story littered with mean girls, drunken parties, bad boys and enough chandelier earrings to light up the Harvard lawn.

I'll bet you a copy of Laguna Beach: The Complete First Season and a gold lamé Miu Miu bag that you won't read a sweeter, funnier, more charming book this year.”

Soon after, author Megan McCafferty accused Kaavya of copying some text from her books – the names of which I forget. And the whole of America started pouring vitriol over the young writer. It is not important to go into the details of all that jealous, bigoted, uninformed criticism; suffice it to make three main points about it:
1. There was no clear copyright infringement; otherwise, Megan McCafferty and her publishers would have definitely sued.
2. As for a broader moral issue of plagiarism, we have seen in the first instance involving Ian McEwan, that it is no big deal. Writers routinely borrow ideas from one another, and all of western literature has origins in Homer!
3. How Opal… is not chick lit. It is an intelligent reversal of the famous Hollywood flick “Legally Blonde”.

Poor Kaavya says in her book that nobody argues with success; ironically, in her own case, her success goaded so much criticism – which was vituperative and mean. It was bigoted. They questioned her morals; just stopped short of calling her a call girl.

Unfortunately, for us and for her, she never attempted a second book. Not so far. But she is apparently doing well in life – studying, more irony here, law. I hope she will one day sue all these critics for damages. And then go on to write another book.

There was one sane voice (Bill Poser), which spoke In Defense of Kaavya Viswanathan:
http://itre.cis.upenn.edu/~myl/languagelog/archives/003068.html

Come on Kaavya, give us more.

Telangana Seems Like a Distant Dream Now…

2011-03-20T07:46:00.000-07:00

I get back to politics after a long time. The March 10th events did not move me as much as they did other people. In fact, only yesterday I drove along Tank Bund and looked at the altars on which the statues used to be. There were some with broken noses. It hurt me more to see the inscriptions erased: for one thing, I don’t know which statue was gone; for another, future generations would never know a thing about that person. As we end this story, you will know why that is important to me. In brief, the inscription records history, and even without the statue, it can document history as it is happening around us.

Bammer Potana’s statue was still there, so I had to revise my earlier belief that there was no method in the madness. Actually, before I saw it yesterday (and I have seen it before), I was not sure if they put up the statue in the first place. So well, they did: I mean the aandhrollu did create some space for Potana and Tanisha and Rudrama Devi; if that was not enough there was a less violent and more effective way to get more. But then, Mohandas Gandhi is passé, whatever the Americans have to say.

Anyway I felt let down for a while about Shri Shri’s statue being pulled down: Mahakavi Shri Shri, who always spoke up for the underdogs. I was disappointed with Comrade Vara Vara Rao’s response to the whole operation. But then, it is not the first time that he disappointed passive sympathizers like me; and I know he and his brethren have no use for passive sympathy or passive resistance.

So what is the message of the million March?

Wait until May. After that? Is it going to be as follows?

Arre charminaru medalo, tanku bandu needalo
Bhadram kodako naa kodako andhroda jara...

Gandipeta cheruvulo, musi nadi murikilo
Munchestamro, na koduko andhroda ninnu

Is it possible, with a few thousand people from the hinterland attacking Hyderabad, to sink a population of at least one million adhrollu in Hussain Sagar? Is it so easy to drag real human beings on to Tank Bund and throw them into the lake, as they did with helpless statues?

If Jashua or Shri Shri were standing on top of those pompous altars, they would have sung in chorus: “Guys, don’t sweat. Leave those ropes and stuff. We will walk across and jump, it that is going to liberate you from your shackles.” Sir Aurther Cotton would have taught them engineering tricks to do it more easily, less messily. You know those statues which have just been chipped away? He would have said: “Guys, easy does it. Just whisper into the ears of that old poet out there, he would vanish into thin air.

All that sounds like paranoid talk. And it is. And who created the paranoia? When? It was all on 10th March. Who done it? Your guess is as good as mine.

Quli Qutb Shahi tombs

There is an interesting story about the Quli Qutb Shahi tombs. History tells us that the Sultans got their tombs constructed with care in their own life times. They are all architectural marvels. But there is one, which is unique. It is the one that stands there, half finished. The Sultan was getting it built when Aurangazeb attacked Hyderabad and conquered it: it stands to witness and document history in stone and mortar.

The antique

Let me conclude with a story of Jeffery Archer’s: a woman buys a statuette on her visit to China, which the antique dealer claims to be from the Manchu dynasty. But the stand is broken. So he finds a little stone thingamabob and fixes the statuette on it with fevifast. This woman returns to U.S. or U.K. and a little later she falls on bad times. So she takes this statuette to an antique dealer and offers to sell it.

The antique dealer tells her to come back after a week so that he can get the true worth of it ascertained. When she goes back, he says: Madame, this is an imitation statuette, which is worth nothing more than fifty dollars (or pounds). She is dejected and sets out to go, when the dealer says: But, the stand on which it is fixed, is genuine Manchu stuff. I could offer you 50k for that.

Future generations of Indians (let us hope in the future we will all become Indians) will find as much historical significance in the statues that stand in all their grandeur, the ones with broken noses, and the ones that have been dragged away – which will be known only by the inscriptions on the altars.

Unless another March comes upon us and throws those inscriptions into oblivion.

In the meantime, Andhrans, be happy that they did not drag people on to and off Tank Bund. But beware that time May come.

And brothers and sisters and Vimalakka, if you allow more violence, you are only handing the government a bigger stick. And giving it a longer rope. And the moral of the story is, to repeat the heading: T-state is so much longer away, precisely because of the show put up on March 10th.

Yes jo halka halka suror hain...

2011-03-20T07:43:00.000-07:00

Ye teri nazar ka kasoor hain
Tere pyar ne, tere chah ne
Tere beheki beheki nigaah ne
Mujhe sarfarosh bana diya...

In the room the babes come and go
Talking of the man who came but couldn’t go
Withdrawal sinptoms, or what have you
He wouldn’t or couldn’t just let go

Tere pyar ne, tere chah ne
Mujhe ek sharabi bana diya

In the room men come and go
Secretly thinking of a career as gigollo

Worst fears realized; I am drunk
And talk of the days I had hash…

Withdrawal symptoms, this time the spelling
Seems to be ok, because word did not cry foul
The red wavy line, our life line, our soul
In the beginning was the word and then came MS

Yeh jo halka halka suroor hain
Yeh teri nazar ka kasoor hain

I am not perfect but am absolutely scared
That one day I will get there: god spare me
Oh the green line tells me it is a fragment,
A figment of palmer’s imagination…

It is my dangler and I will dangle it,
As much as I like; bless you

In the name of our land, her sons, and the holy progress

2011-03-19T01:55:00.000-07:00

so where do i stand now?
In the pantry, looking at rocks getting leveled

the land is getting flattened, for 'development'
if it don't fit their plans, dlf and mantri will change
the shape of the earth to triangular/square
I mean a cube; to make room for more cubicles

aliens space station: maybe they have
a night flight to venus? Maybe.
but surely they will have vendomacs
with mars bars....

hyderabad is going places
as my heart goes to pieces
now don't be such a sissy
so early in the day, don't get dizzy

==
“Our language and our minds are too limited to deal with
anything but a fixed reality, regardless of whether such a thing
exists. The best we can do is to update our delusions to fit the
times. We live in an increasingly rational, science-based society.
The religious metaphors of the past are no longer comforting.
Science is whittling at them from every side.
Humanity needs a metaphor that allows God and science to
coexist, at least in our minds, for the next thousand years.”

===
the dearth (and eventual death) of philosophy,
as I once notified in an earlier blog
began with a bang; with bengalure univ
saying: Depart, Men of philosophy.

and hussain zeeshan ended up in the asylum
the one who declared that what works is reality/science
after d.phils, it is the turn of the pills
if they don't cure, they at least put you to sleep

===

ironically, once you cut the branch of philosophy
from the tree of knowledge
where does that land natural philosophy?
- between a rock and a hard place

i would prefer the rock
but who is asking me?

==
on its bottom,
und so weiter.

--
Thanks and regards,
Sankara Rajanala

Trailing Clouds of data do we come from God
who is our Destiny...

worst fears...

2011-03-05T08:29:00.000-08:00

worst fears

the cops come calling, saying i said i will kill someone some day,
but i called to say sorry i take back the words; the call wasn't answered

however, i am in the clear
so that is not the worst fear

mom gets upset and cannot sleep
because of the dry heat and i cannot do a damn
she will decide to leave
and there isn't a thing i could do to keep

her happy, gruntled and at peace
with me, with the world at large
but that is not what this piece
is all about; it is not that at all...

if you cared to know about eliot, i.e.
the poet, not the beach in chennai

tabula rasam, thair sadam, and thai chicks
you produced six billion of them!

and for it you deserve to live
long, unhappy, and die suffering and unsung

so what is really really the worst of it all?
the fear is that humanity will go on for eternity
as it knows it; until the extinction of chicks
thai, hunan, male and female, but not human...

god save my mother planet
from inhumans; god save me from humans!

--
Thanks and regards,
Sankara Rajanala

Trailing Clouds of data do we come from God
who is our Home directory...

My mother, the Great Dictator… Saul Bellow’s Herzog

2011-03-05T01:40:00.001-08:00

My mother is a fashionista; nobody cares for her diktats, but I have to. Because I am her son. Actually, I am one (the last) of her five sons. The others are married, and my mother leaves the choice of what the other fellers wear to the judgment of their wives, and since I am not married, she takes it upon herself to dictate what I should wear and should not.

Years ago, when I was in Delhi, my parents came by for a couple of weeks: I came back from work and found that my pile of clothes (I did not have a wardrobe, just a cupboard in which I dumped my stuff) depleted considerably. I asked my mother if she gave them for washing or something. My father was sitting there – smiling. I smelt a rat, or a fish. I asked him what happened. He kept quiet.

My mother went into the kitchen and came back with a steel vessel (you know the kind in which you boil milk and all that). She said: This is what I got for your miserable clothes. I really don’t know what all she got rid off: whatever she didn’t like in the pile – old, new, recent, blah – she gave off. And got the vessel.

It is a wonder really because she cannot speak a word of Hindi. My father, who was there all along, when she was giving away the clothes and ‘negotiated’ the deal, never intervened, though he knew Hindi alright. He was amused about the whole thing; my stuff being given away, and a silly steel vessel being gotten in exchange. He was still smiling when I threw a fit and asked my mother what all she gave away: she did not have an idea; I don’t have an idea! I still look for a T-shirt which should be in my ‘collection’ and I know, it was gone in Delhi that fateful day.

There is only one time my mother said – hey, this is a good shirt. It made my day. I still wear it: once in a month, to make it last as long as I can! I cannot think of anything I said or did to make her happy in decades, other than that time she said I got a decent shirt.

The other day I set out to office in one of those ‘slim-fit’ shirts: my mother said you cannot go out of this house in that shirt, not to office. I sat down; said ok, I will not go to office. I will take leave. I will sit in front of you in this shirt the whole day. Then she said, get lost. And promptly, I got out.

Ma tujhe salaam… Amma tujhe salaam…

Ideas to depopulate the world

Saul Bellow, in Herzog, has this line: Ideas to depopulate the world. It is amazing. He doesn’t talk further about it. Just that one line. And in 1996, a website was set up: www.vhemt.org. I came to know of it many years later, maybe in 2000 or later. It is an excellent site – all it says is: “thank you for not breeding”.

Oh, I forgot to mention that the site is promoting the cause of voluntary human extinction movement. That is, let us live long and die out. It is best for all of us on the planet. Us includes other species as well, of course.

There is some argument on whether the movement is valid and blah; that is countered in:
http://www.vhemt.org/aboutvhemt.htm#oppose

Probalda Says...

2011-02-24T10:44:00.000-08:00

Probalda wrote back on my mother-tongue day rant; I stand corrected.

And I have wicked pleasure in putting in the commas and dot the T's (or is it i's). I am like Telemachus, able in my own way...

Like I said, or if I haven't said I say now, Probalda is God's gift to Humaninties:

I wrote, erroreously, that: There is an interesting story about how this day was picked up for the mother tongue day. Four people died in Dhaka, fighting for separation from Pakistan – on the grounds that their language was Bengali.

Probalda says:

Seven died; we only get four (middle class) names, namely, Barkat, Jabbar, Rafik and Salam, [believe me, dear readers, Prof Probal Dasgupta is writing from memory - not checking references on wiki - shank] but we are told that three others died; not clear to me if all of them were lower class. [hazaar chaurasi ki ma, wo weilest du?]

This happened in 1952.

Wiki says: International Mother Language Day originated as the international recognition of Language Movement Day, which has been commemorated in Bangladesh (formerly East Pakistan) since 1952, when a number of University of Dhaka students were killed by the Pakistani police and army in Dhaka during Bengali Language Movement protests.

[Of course Probalda is right; and it is not surprising that I get my facts awfully wrong. But the thing about Prof Dasgupta is that he can make facts interesting, a knack which lot of academix don't have... Now, at this hour, don't get me started about mixed up academic folk.]

Back to 1952

At that early date, nobody is asking for separation of East from West Pakistan; the thought would never have crossed their minds.

They died because they were demonstrating for the right of Bengali to be accepted as a co-official language with Urdu. Note that Bengali was spoken by considerably more than 50% of the population of Pakistan. [The unified Pakistan, that is - Shank]

[Again, I got it wrong, and I stand corrected, in writing that]: the people of East Pakistan (erstwhile East Bengal) fought for independence on the grounds of language; four people, apparently, died in police firing on this day (21 Feb.) and it became the international mother tongue day.]

Probalda goes on: The relevant events are apparently not as well known as they should be. [This is his way of telling me - Shank, his 'chela', that you should get your facts right before you open your trap :)] Anyway, P.D. goes on: In the 60s, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, fought for simple democratic rights (in the face of West Pakistani oppression of the east which was siphoning off all the resources away), refusing to build industries in the east, and so on, (standard colonial behaviour); Mujib languished in jail and was often tortured. In 1970, after much hesitation, the military regime held national elections; the results were announced in winter (I recall December, may be getting the month wrong); in a parliament of just under 300 seats, 169 seats belonged to East Pakistan, and Mujib's Awami League had won 167 of those seats. He had an outright [overwhelming - Shank] majority and should have been asked by Yahya Khan to take office. Instead, Yahya Khan temporized [guys, like many of you, I would have said, what on earth does this word mean? and then I checked out: "to act to suit the time or occasion : yield to current or dominant opinion" - shank] and then invited Zulfikar Ali Bhutto to take office -- Bhutto's PPP had won something like 84 seats. [Bhutto's daughter, Benazir Bhutto, later became Prime Minister, got corrupt - or her husband was corrupt, and she was assassinated a few years ago - Shank] Given this flagrant violation of norms, mujib led protests; these went unheeded. [There was a stalemate for more than 6 months in Indonesia circa 1999, when Megawati Sukarnoputri won the elections outright, and someone or the other 'temporized' and got an old blind man into the president's seat - Shank]

Here I (shank) would like to add a tidbit I know: companies that produced match boxes in (current) Bangladesh had to ship them to Islamabad, or some place in today's Pakistan, to get them shipped back after a small sticker pasted saying they paid excise duty. Imagine a match box of one rupee's worth (today) going across the continent!

Over to Probalda: The background was a Dcember 1970 cyclone, lots of loss of life, Pakistani authorities ignoring the whole thing and causing more tragedies, by such ignoring. Popular anger peaked. On 7 march 1971, Mujib announces that he is now struggling for an independent East Pakistan as there is no hope that the unified Pakistan system can deliver. [What can any goddamn demonocrazy deliver? is another question, which I will write aboutlater - shank]

On 25 March, the pakistani army begins its systematic
repression.

They killed three million people in those eight and half months, and raped two million women. [Probalda doesn't mince his words; and never gets his facts wrong. What if he is careless about commas and dull teaching 'periods'; he has minions and binions to help out on that score. Just let me, sir, and I will take care of the 'mechanics' of writing - any day!]

While language was the basis on which Mujib - ur - Rehman was able to cement political unity in East Pakistan, there is no direct connection between the language movement of 1952, a time at which they all believed in the idea of Pakistan, and the independence struggle of 1971, a response to the throttling of democracy.

You know what, dear readers? If it hadn't been for my goofy observations on the Mother Tongue day (and my cheeky mood that made me send a link to Probalda), I don't know if this cogent summary of what happened in East Bengal - names and all - would have come to light. Oh, yes: you could read a bunch of articles, books and stuff; but, a summary of it in three paragraphs! No, the credit goes entirely to my rant...

As on many occasions, if not always, I stand corrected. And it is Prof Probal Dasgupta's job to put me on the right track. Well, I don't know or care how he likes his job.

I don't like mine. But am I complaining?

2011-02-23T00:35:00.000-08:00

Mecaulay’s Children, Orphans, and Bastards

Lord Mecaulay, of the infamous Minute on Indian Education, according a good friend: anticipates that the ‘native interpreters’ – the English-speaking elite – will go on to enrich their native languages and enhance the literature and scientific knowledge of India thereby. He didn’t suggest that English could suffice for India by any means, or replace its native regional languages.

I believe that Mecaulay fantasized is more like it; it never happened. Enriching Indian language through an understanding of English was the mandate given to the CIEFL (now called the EFLU). A decade later, they set up the CIIL. And this miserable joint comes up with a pathetic publication called muse india (go google for it), after three decades of existence...

All the English elite I know personally are out of this country. And some of them don’t even teach their children Telugu or Hindi, or whatever is their mother (native) tongue.

But, I think, it doesn't matter: English is what gives us an edge over China. Otherwise, we would be as badly off as Bangladesh or Ethiopia.

English rules. So be it. That is not the point: if someone wants to revive the regional languages (native languages), I am all for them. Like if shivsena in Mumbai, and the Kannada Rakshana Vedika in Bengaluru want to make sure that the shop signs include a word of Marathi or Kannada, along with a big English display, I think they have a right to do so. I lost friends pushing this point across and I am willing to make enemies too…

My friend, Daniel, made an excellent observation, that Mecaulay was not against native or regional languages, but against Sanskrit and Persian - which were as irrelevant as Greek and Latin. And right he was (I mean Mecaulay); and of course my friend, Dan.

A friend of mine visited me in Singapore; she was a Teow Chew (a brand of Chinese; I should be calling it a dialect, but I am not a linguist really) from Bangkok. We went to a restaurant and the guy was a Tamil. I spoke to him in English and he took the order. Then she said: Why didn't you talk to him in Indian? I said there is no Indian other than In-glish.

We got talking more; she said, wistfully: you were lucky to have the Brits run your country for so long (Thailand, and strangely enough, Finland) are the only countried which were not really 'occupied' during the second world war. I said why? Oh, your English is so good.

I did not tell her that it was not the Brits really who should get the credit, as far as my eloquence in English was concerned, but a certain affable Madrasi. If I were to be rude, I would perhaps call you a Bangalorean... Well, the affable madrasi, and to be rude, Bangalorean is none other than Daniel, who pretty much taught me to speak ‘the language’ (I say this because Sharon Prabhakar once famously said that pop music is not popular in India because people don’t know ‘the language’). For the uninitiated, Sharon is the wife of the son of a bachelor Alyque and mother of some broad who is in the flicks – Shazahn.

Mecaulay was absolutely to the point when he said that if Sanskrit and Persian were such cracked up languages, why are people asking for scholarships to study them. Of course, it hurts when he says that all of Indian literature would be accommodated in two shelves and blah. But as one gets older, one gets to be a bit forgiving. He did not have time to go through the welth of literary and scientific texts - nor did I - available in Sanskrit.

Over to someone who knows better.
http://www.columbia.edu/itc/mealac/pritchett/00generallinks/macaulay/txt_minute_education_1835.html
Here is ‘the language’ again, in Manu Joseph’s diatribe against Indian languages and lovers of mother tongue:

well-paying job in the country that does not require a good understanding of the language. Higher education here is conducted entirely in English.

And Manu is happy about this:
“A villager has more respect for a brand that is written in English,” said Dhruman Sanghvi, a company director.

"English is the de facto national language of India. It is a bitter truth." says Manu.

For Manu, this is the sweet truth; he should be at least honest about his opinions, if he gets the facts f*** wrong.

Frost @ Midnight...

2011-02-23T00:29:00.001-08:00

One Acquainted With Darkness…

“I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain -- and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light. I have looked down the saddest city lane. I have passed by the watchman on his beat. And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet when far away an interrupted cry came over houses from another street, but not to call me back or say good-bye; and further still at an unearthly height, a luminary clock against the sky… [that is the moon, I was told – ed.]

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right. [I was one acquainted with the dark side of the right.]”

I don’t know if this is plagiarism: this is what Frost almost said. I cut out a few words here and there, which one should not do. I took the liberty to add a line in the end, which one must not do. But then, where is poetic justice in this world today? It is all poetic liberty, nay, licentiousness.

I am one acquainted with the darker side of things: like anger and passion. Yes, passion is dark and deep, like the woods the great poet was wandering through. I am bum chums with people of different persuasions and orientations – with beasts of a different breed. Of course all of us are beasts. Of different shapes and breeds; of rights and wrongs.

I have indulged in darker deeds than writing blogs and cursing people whom I dislike: I have been acquainted with forbidden substances and deeds. Oh well, I have had a not so bright past, and I don’t care if my future will be bright either. It is the will of god.

International Mother Tongue Day

This week, on the 21 Feb., we had the international mother tongue day. There is an interesting story about how this day was picked up for the mother tongue day. Four people died in Dhaka, fighting for separation from Pakistan – on the grounds that their language was Bengali (Urdu was imposed as an ‘official’ language on them – oh, how I cringe to used the word ‘official’ with reference to language.)

Interestingly, Pakistan was divided on the grounds of religion, and the people of East Pakistan (erstwhile East Bengal) fought for independence on the grounds of language; four people, apparently, died in police firing on this day (21 Feb.) and it became the international mother tongue day.

Today, many Indian elite are ashamed to let it be known that their children speak an ‘Indian’ language. Karan Johar, the son of a bachelor, is happy about not being able to count beyond 30 in Hindi, but is pleased as a punch to spit out some unimaginative, dirty line in French – Vouz les vous, or something of that manner. On a national channel…

Many Indian parents feel, and a friend who moved to Bangalore from Delhi actually said, that local languages can ‘pollute’ their children and hamper their English language acquisition. And so this gent, who thought the maid servant was invading their home with Hindi – moved to Bangalore. This is so obviously not true: if the right environment is provided, children can easily pick up 3 or 4 languages, not get confused about who to talk to in which language. So if the mother is a Telugu speaker and the father a Bengali – the child would never utter a word of Telugu to the father, and vice versa. And if they happen to live in Delhi, they will manage in Hindi outside the home…

Exceptions of course occur. I once found myself talking in Telugu to Sunil Sinha, who knows only English and Hindi. We used to converse in English mostly, maybe with a bit of Hindi thrown in. Perhaps it was because we were so close that I slipped into Telugu (which is my ‘home’ language). That is just one exception in the past 30 years during which I have been operating in Telugu, Hindi, and English. An exception, as the cliché goes, that proves the rule.

Mother do you think I should run for president?
Mother do you think they will try to break my will?
… and misinterpret my testament?

confessions of a new age editor...

2011-02-17T10:50:00.000-08:00

Probalda,

Please forgive me for making this public.

I intend this for publication, and I will try to keep this as impersonal as possible.

What was I running away from...

Meaningless meetings at cafe coffee days,
at 50 bucks a shot of caffeine...

where nothing happens over a cup of coffee except a whole in the pocket
[pick pocketters have better ethics]

"Sir, I want the table..."
"Take it away..."
"No sir, someone wants to sit at this table..."
[In other words, get the hell outta here.]

company-sponsored buffet lunches at expensive joints
oh the expense, and then queueing up for darned food like prisoners
what was that stuff again? Runde de la prisonnaires?
Van Gaugh's Prisoners in a circle...

Wannabe-s who think they arrived,
as soon as they get a parking lot in raheja mind(less) spce
In the lounge women come and go,
talking of the Davinci Code...

Running away from...

Power lunches, where you pay through your nose (because it is not sponsored!)
Unlimited internet access at home and at work
And fraudulent email messages...

Someone told me, someone told me, that the Gods believe in nothing!

Women talking of their children and spouses and spices that go into
this or that dish
Utter ignorance of the reality outside the cubicle world...

sheer incompetence, self-preservation, and arrogance

Et muss etwas geschehen!
Et will etwas geschehen (forgive my rusty Deutsche)

And then in the end you sell soap (or try to...)
the heimat, the Irish kind, oh weilest du, mein Prof Tharu?

Stylish people in dirty sport shoes
Gyms in the premises that no one uses
Beer Fridays and buiscuits on the house
Cakes on birthdays and flowers on anniversaries

the ersatz bold and beatific
online activism and the hungersite.com
muttering cabbages on the menu
samosa (mutter sotto voce) at evening snack

Dommari girls, acrobatic exercises by the roadside
Two or three rupees thrown at them
and Backs being patted
claps! windows down. Move on...

Running away from...

hackerdom, the cathedral and the bizarre
fron the open source community and the guy who
sold his soul to Novell (darn I can't recall the name)
Pekka himmanen or Linus Torvalds? the whole bunch of them

the kagaz ki duniya
yeh documents ki kashti

But there is no running away
That is where my day begins...
God save me from the rich and ugly
God, why did it have to be this
Or penury; and disease; and death

Why does it have to be all or none?
How does it matter who cries when I die?

Why don't ya gimme food and let me rest
And not toil for crumbs that cost a bomb?

God, feel free to email me:
Sankarar@gmail.com

The Story of Biryani...

2011-02-09T10:16:00.000-08:00

Biryani has been much in the news lately, thanks to the rather intemperate and unwarranted remarks on the kind of Biryani prepared by people of the coastal Andhra Pradesh. It does not matter whether the ‘Andhrans’ can make tasty, spicy biryani – to the discussion on forming a separate state. If Andhrans make tasteless biryani, you don’t have to make tasteless remarks on that, Mr KCR!

Indeed, no one said that the ‘Andhrans’ taught culture to the Telangana folks. It was really the leaders of the first Telangana movement (back in 1969) who said that the people of coastal Andhra don’t know tameez and tehzeeb. Back then, a lot of them addressed public meetings in Urdu – and claimed that Hyderabad’s cosmopolitan culture would be compromised in the composite Andhra Pradesh. In addition to the dialectal difference between the kind of Telugu spoken in Telangana and Andhra, the leaders of the first Telangana struggle belabored the point of their superiority on account of being able to speak in Urdu, which is but a mixture of Hindi and Persian!

And now let us get back to biryani. For long, I believed, like most Hyderabadis, that biryani is a Hyderabadi speciality. And one day, my HR manager at Citec (Ms Shraboni Majumdar) clarified that biryani was basically an alien preparation. Here is what wikipedia says:
“Biryani was originated in Iran (Persia) and it was brought to the South Asia by Iranian travelers and merchants. Local variants of this dish are not only popular in South Asia but also in Arabia and within various South Asian communities in Western countries.”

And there is this interesting thing about Lucknow biryani:
“Lucknow and biryani have an almost symbiotic relationship. The Lucknow (Awadhi) biryani is the footprint that the Muslims of the Mughal Empire left on the northern part of India. It originated in the village 'Bare Next' and although it originated in the North, Virani Biryani has also picked up flavors of the South. The Awadhi Biryani is also known as "Pukka" Biryani as the rice and meat are cooked separately and then layered.”

There is Calcutta biryani, there is Sindhi biryani, there is Kozhikode biryani and even Thai biryani. And of course, there is Hyderabadi biryani.

As I have already stated, there is nothing to boast about making great biryani. Or even sending it to terrorists holding the Hazrat Bal mosque to ransom.

Three cheers KCR!

Three jeers to Mayawati
It was indeed shocking to see the footage of a security officer cleaning the shoes of U.P. Chief Minister Mayawati. Well, three jeers at her…

Ulysses and Lotus Eaters

2011-02-04T02:51:00.000-08:00

Say No To Merger…

We will look at the possible merger of the Praja Rajyam Party with the Congress in a while but let us start this blog with a look at Odyssey, the equivalent of Ramayana in Greek mythology.

I have four brothers: one of them calls himself a pragmatist. But he is worse than a pessimist. The saying goes that the optimist looks at the glass half full and the pessimist, half empty. My brother suspects that there is poison in the glass; sometimes, he believes there is no glass at all and that it is his hallucination. He is worse than a pessimist.

Odysseus and Penelope

When the Greeks went to war with the Kingdom of Troy (the famous Trojan war), and returned victorious, King Odysseus, the greatest of them all was missing. It turns out that his ship (and those of his fleet) floundered on the high sees and went through a lot of hardship – all of which was narrated with great élan by Homer in his Illiad. Odysseus returns after 18 long years (which is kind of similar to Ram’s vanavas).

Meantime, Penelope, Odysseus’s wife, was under pressure from suitors, who according to custom were eager to marry her and take over Odysseus’s kingdom (Ithaca). They said she had to choose one of them because Odysseus must be dead by now. According to modern law in most countries, if a person is missing for 6 or 7 years, then his property can be passed on to the legal heirs. In those days, a wife was part of property; a legal heir is a suitor whom she chooses.

The story goes that she told the suitors that she was weaving a wedding dress and as soon as she finished that she would choose one of them. She, apparently, weaved by day and unweaved by night, and kept the yarn thing going for all those years. Also, when people brought news to her of Odysseus being reported seen or heard of in some strange island or kingdom along the way, on his way back, she is believed to have shown pessimism on those occasions, saying – No, I don’t think he will ever come back (although she believed in the heart of hearts that he would return one day, and so kept on weaving and unweaving her wedding dress).

Penelope was afraid that if she acknowledged optimism, the perverse Greek gods will somehow try to screw her happiness. Sorry to bring in a personal note here, but my brother, the worse-than-optimist, is like Penelope; he seems to believe that if he wishes something to work out well, the pervert gods will screw him.

But God is not pervert: he may not be omnipotent, blah, blah, but he is benevolent.

Lotus eaters

Tennyson wrote two contrasting poems: Ulysses and Lotus Eaters. Ulysses is another name for Odysseus, the Greek hero aforementioned. After returning to his kingdom, Ithaca, according to Tennyson, he feels bored with the humdrum of running the country – meting out unequal laws unto a savage race – and leaves the burden of ruling the country to his son Telemachus (who is able, says Ulysses, in his own way), and marshals his men for new adventures.

Lotus eaters, the other poem, that contrasts with the spirit of adventure shown by the aging Ulysses, talks about the island of lotus eaters Ulysses/Odysseus comes across on his voyage on the way back home. The lotus eaters sit all day idle, chewing what seem to be stems of lotuses (maybe magic mushroom of a bygone era?) They don’t work (god knows how they get food and other necessities of life. But they are cool. They are, in a word, not go-getters. The lotus eaters are, basically, come-what-mays.

Well, I need to spend a whole blog on this Ulysses vs Lotus Eaters business, later…

Say No To Merger…

Everyone in the Praja Rajyam Party seems to be eager for a merger with the Congress. But my considered opinion is that Mr Chiranjeevi should desist from the temptation and hold on his own. The PRP is a big entity, with a large support base and a vote share. By itself, it would be in a better position to dictate terms to the Congress: an electoral understanding is best for PRP. Of course, the Congress and Madame Sonia will put a lot of pressure on Mr Chiranjeevi to merge his party with Congress.

Mr Chiranjeevi would do well not to yield to these pressures and keep his party as a separate entity. I don’t know if this sane advice will reach anyone’s ears within the PRP, but if it does, I should consider my blog to have more than served its purpose.

Only the Paranoid Survive: I am Paranoid…

2011-02-03T06:03:00.000-08:00

Andy Grove of Intel wrote a book titled Only the Paranoid Survive. I believe him and I know that I am paranoid. Does it mean that I will survive? If I will, then for how long? And what if I did not want to survive so long and die soon? These are the questions that bother me all the time.

Six years ago, when I saw a psycho at Abhaya hospital in Bangalore, he started asking me questions and was taking down notes copiously. My problem was that I was drinking a lot. He asked me why I drank so much. I thought hard and deep; I never thought about that. I had a lot of ‘disposable income’ and I didn’t know how to get rid of it – is the obvious answer but that didn’t sound right. After some meditation, I said: It is because I want to die soon (sooner than later). Drinking is like slow-poisoning myself, because I don’t have the guts to commit suicide.

The psycho did not look up from his notes. He did not jump on this wonderful insight I had given him into my mental make-up. Nor did he ask me why I would want to die sooner or any such thing. I think he went on to ask me which brand I drank habitually. But this opened up a new corridor of introspection for myself. I thunk about it and thought about it ever since for a long time. I reached the conclusion that I wanted to die soon(er) to find out if there is life after death. That is another question I keep thinking about a lot.

The answer to that is easy and difficult. All you need to find it is to die, so it is easy. But then once you are dead, and find that there is no life after – there is no coming back. Or, if there is indeed life after death, and you don’t care so much for it, too, you cannot come back. So it is really difficult to say. But there is a way out: instead of finding out the answer, you can choose to “believe” that there is life after death (or otherwise). As far as you know, if you put your mind to it, this belief will be the answer.

I am paranoid…

The people of Gaul (in Asterix comics) are afraid that the sky would fall on them. For long, I was paranoid about a fan in the main hall of our house in Machilipatnam falling on somebody’s head. There is a clear and present danger of monkeys entering the place where I live now; I am paranoid about my mother getting seriously hurt by a bunch of crazy monkeys. I have a hundred worries like that and yet I survive. Or because of those I survive?

Will the PRP merge with the Congress?

Here is my take: No, the Praja Rajyam Party will not merge with the Congress. Or, should not. The reason is, as long as the PRP remains an entity in itself, Mr Chiranjeevi will have a hold over his flock – mainly the second rung leaders. If he merges his party with Congress, his second rung leaders will get mixed up with the Congress netas, and a different dynamics will result.
The Congress culture of pressure groups and localized bonds and understandings is widely known. Mr Chiranjeevi will have no hold over his own men because they get mixed up in the larger Congress dynamics. Whereas he can identify dissent within his own ranks and act appropriately if he keeps the PRP as a separate entity. If he knows what is good for him and his party, he would not merge with the Congress – now or ever.

Is anyone listening in the PRP?

Crony Capitalism and Benevolent Dictatorship

2011-01-31T23:11:00.000-08:00

My teacher at the CIEFL (now called EFLU) once related this interesting anecdote. He told his daughter, aged 9, a story of a poor family. The poor family did not have a proper shelter (a leaky roof), they had no decent clothes, and they had very little to eat. And so the story went. Later that evening, he was amused to hear this daughter of 9 tell the story of the poor family to her younger sibling (aged 6). “Once upon a time, there was a poor family: they were so poor that they didn’t have a television or a fridge; they didn’t even have good shoes.”

The story illustrates the essence of what we are going to discuss in this blog – how do you define ‘rich’ and ‘poor’. In ‘advanced’ countries, poor people live in stinky tenements. In India, poor people live on pavements and under flyovers. In advanced countries, poor children go to government schools that don’t have decent playgrounds. In India they clean coffee tables and tea cups. Some children die of malnutrition before they even mature into child labor.

The point is that capitalism encourages the disparity between the rich and the poor. It may turn out that the poor people of a later generation may enjoy overseas vacations like the rich do today. But by then, the rich would be traveling to Mars and Venus. The poor may get to live to be 70, but the rich would be young as ever at 100+ The disparity is inherent in a capitalist system.

Mr Narayana Murthy of the Infosys fame talks about making India a better place, making the world a better place. He says he wants to do it by creating jobs with disposable income. The whole problem started with disposable incomes, as Marxists would argue: those who had disposable incomes ‘bought’ the labor of those who were living hand to mouth. In due season, with the additional labor as capital, the early capitalists gained a huge surplus of property. It is pointless to argue with Mr Narayana Murthy and the likes who glibly talk of Weber and Frantz Fanon (Strange that Mr Murthy should be talking about black skin and white masks: he is so unsure of his appeal and it is people like him who try to put on a white mask.) in the same breath (with Mohandas Gandhi uncomfortably sandwiched in the middle – or in the muddle).

Those who talk of the evils of communism wax eloquent on the dangers that are inherent in a totalitarian system; at from being a benevolent dictatorship – it could degenerate into a malevolent dictatorship any time. There are also those who argue that any kind of dictatorship is abhorrent in and by itself – even if it is benevolent. Let us concede that point. But then, compassionate capitalism – a term I heard first in Mr Murthy’s book, is equally a contradiction in terms. The first capitalist, who had disposable income, simply did not share it with his neighbor who was living hand to mouth: he (more likely than she) ‘bought’ the neighbor’s labor with that extra income he saved up (hail the protestant ethic) and built his estate!

Now the real problem with capitalism – as we all now know – is that it has degenerated into crony capitalism. Not that it will, it has, all over the world…
“In its lightest form, crony capitalism consists of collusion among market players. While perhaps lightly competing against each other, they will present a unified front to the government in requesting subsidies or aid (sometimes called a trade association or industry trade group). Newcomers to a market may find it difficult to find loans or acquire shelf space to sell their product; in technological fields, they may be accused of infringing on patents that the established competitors never invoke against each other. Distribution networks will refuse to aid the entrant. That said, there will still be competitors who "crack" the system when the legal barriers are light, especially where the old guard has become inefficient and is failing to meet the needs of the market. Of course, some of these upstarts may then join with the established networks to help deter any other new competitors. Examples of this have been argued to include the keiretsu of post-war Japan, the print media in India, the chaebol of South Korea, and the powerful families who control much of the investment in Latin America.”[http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crony_capitalism]

Another example of crony capitalism is the 2G scam in India. So much newsprint has been wasted on this topic already that I see no point in wasting any more here. In India too, an established soft drink – Thumsup – could not find ‘shelf’ space in shops when Coca Cola bought over Parle drink. After trying to kill the brand for more than a decade, Coca Cola had to drop the idea and allow Thumsup space under the Indian sun. But then, India is not an out and out capitalist society, much as Mr Murthy would and his ilk would like to make it.

Thumbs up to mixed economy.

Mossad and RSS; Earworms; “And…” Linguistic Gaps

2011-01-21T22:54:00.001-08:00

First let us talk about the alleged connection between Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) and Mossad. Digvijay Singh of the Congress (former Chief Minister of Madhya Pradesh) said that the RSS colluded with Mossad of Israel in many terror attacks including the one at Macca masjid in Hyderabad, Ajmer dargah, and the Samjhauta express. Digvijay Singh went on to implicate the CIA (of U.S.) for good measure.
I am surprised that the Israel government hasn’t responded strongly to that because Mossad is a government body. Mossad is one of the main entities in the Israeli Intelligence Community, along with Aman (military intelligence) and Shin Bet (internal security), but its director reports directly to the Prime Minister. As such, if the Mossad is implicated by a responsible person (Diggy is somebody in the Congress party – although I am not sure what exactly his position is) from India, one would expect an official protest from Israel. I haven’t seen any such in the papers: if I missed out something of that sort – I would be glad if you mail me (sankarar@gmail.com).

“And” the loser is…
On television these days, actually for quite some time, we hear ‘and’ a lot. First it was the Mumbai girls who pervade Tollywood (a word I hate), who would punctuate their broken Telugu with ‘and’. They can be excused because they probably don’t know that there exist, at least two words in Telugu for ‘and’: “inka” and “mariyu”.
There are some words for which there are no equivalent Telugu words: maybe scholars would know the Telugu words, but not commoners. Maybe lexicographers can create new words: it is really the job of the Telugu academy and the Official Language Commission to build the Telugu corpus. Be that as it may, words like ‘self-consciousness’, ‘psychotherapy’ and ‘extinction’ can pose difficulties for common speakers of Telugu, so one takes recourse to the use of English words while speaking Telugu.

But professionals – anchors and interviewers on television – have taken a cue from the Bombaybes of Tollywood (a word I hate) and started saying ‘and’ in their Telugu speech.

“And” the loser is – the Telugu language!

Seen in the papers
Two people fell from an MMTS train, and died. Can there be anything more tragic than that? “It’s their own fault,” Milo, the Mayor, Minderbender (Catch 22) would say. I will write about that book another day. It’s a promise.
But the question is not whose fault it is: as Marx said, the important thing is, to change the situation.

Another item that caught my eye was about a youth who got drunk with some friends, and went to see another friend and got drunk some more and finally ended up at another friend’s place and got drunk more and more. He died in drunken stupor: may his soul rest in peace.

A photograph published in the papers captures the telecom revolution that is hyped up so much these days. Prime Minister Manmohan Singh and telecom minister Kapil Sibal are seen talking to each other – over cell phones.
That reminds me of an old joke: someone is talking very loudly on the phone. The guy in the next room sends his secretary to find out why this guy is yelling. The secretary goes back and reports that the guy is talking to London (from let us say, New York). The boss says: “Tell him to use the telephone”.
Cell phones have changed the very nature of communication: for the better? Or for the worse? is debatable.

Needs, comforts, and luxuries
One kilo onions, one liter petrol, and one bottle of beer – all cost Rs 65/- How’s that for irony! Of course one kilo onions would last (per person) for one month; a liter of petrol would last a day; and a bottle of beer would last until the next visit to the loo.

Have you heard of earworms?
Earworms is a new word in the dictionary – it means a song or tune that keeps ringing in your ears for days on end. The one buzzing in my head right now is:
Chiluka kshemama – Kuluka kushalama
This is one of those untranslatable lines; contact your nearest Telugu speaker for a liberal interpretation.

Sex And The City; Long Live APCO…

2011-01-21T05:31:00.000-08:00

I was in Helsinki, Finland for almost a year; I was introduced to a cocktail called ‘villevalatone’, which I was told was the local name for the cocktail called Cosmopolitan – popularized by the teleseries Sex and the City. It is a good-looking drink and it tasted good too. But I go for the ‘kick’ I get out of my drinks, not so much for the taste and flavor.

I was reminded of villevalatone on seeing a series of exposes of sex rackets in the city. From call girls who charge from 5k to 15k down to those available for less than a thousand bucks. I think the government should issue licenses to sex workers and collect tax, if they feel like it – and let commercial sex thrive, in the city and the country. Other countries where sex is legalized are doing fine – for example Singapore and the Netherlands. I see no reason for the government to clamp down on so-called sex rackets. Illegal sex is the creation of the government and its dilapidated laws: it is time to change them.

Once commercial sex is legalized, there will be no more illegal sex.

Long ago, when I was editing management reports at Tata Consultancy Services in Delhi (Gurgaon, to be exact), I was looking at a report prepared for the ministry of textiles; the main (and only) message of that report was that handlooms have a unique advantage over machine made fabrics: there are only a hundred samples of a particular design and fabric. The report exhorted the government to seize the opportunity and promote the uniqueness, rather than set the handloom trade in competition with machine-made fabrics.

When I told the guy who prepared the report that there is a lot of repetition of this message in the report, that he was overdoing it, he laughed and said: “I am glad you said this. There is no overdoing. This is the only message I want to send across to the powers that be in the ministry. Thank you.

Recently, Akkineni Nageswara Rao (ANR) went to an APCO showroom and purchased clothes from there. He is a frugal man. He sure must have liked the price tags at APCO. Let me digress.

The Chiran Palace park, now called KBR park, was once free for all. Some ten years ago, they started charging 5 or 10 rupees from people who wanted to walk in the park. ANR, being the frugal person that he is, stopped going there, according to his cousin – the late Akkineni Vekataratnam – because of the entrance fee. He (ANR) told the folks around him that he would rather walk four rounds around his house for his morning walk, than pay Rs 10/- as entrance fee at KBR park.

We need more folks like ANR around us, who know the value of money.

Government support for handloom workers

A month ago, the AP state government declared that they will give the contract for supplying school uniforms for Gurukul (residential) students across the states. Some big garment manufacturers tried to hijack the deal: now, it appears, APCO will handle only half the business. That is sad. The government should rethink and give the entire project to APCO: but, who is listening? The multinational sons of bachelors are grabbing everything they can – will they let the handloom industry alone? I doubt it.

Dara Singh of the Steins affair

The Supreme Court condemned Dara Singh for the murder of Graham Steins and his family in Odisha in 1999. The court, in its wisdom, refused to sentence him to death. Well, the highest court in the country knows what it is doing: I am glad that at least after 11 years, some kind of justice is meted out…

Soap advertisements, old and new

I cannot write on this topic without mentioning names; I need clearance from my editor. But suffice it to say that an ITC soap has a cool ad, which shows the difference between old and new films; old and new ads. Oh hell, I am talking about the Vivel ad. It is well made.

Bottomline beat – Agar Tum Mil Jao…

Agar tum mil jao, zamana chod denge hum
[If I get you, I will give up the world...]

You Haven’t Seen The Last Of Me… Cher

2011-01-20T04:01:00.000-08:00

I have been out of town for a week. There was no news of the Telengana agitation, particularly in Osmania University. That is understandable, because I was in Vijayawada – the hotbed of Samaikyandhra politics. The papers there don’t care about what is happening on the T-front. Well then, when I came back, late last night – I checked out the papers. There was a small 5 inch column in the main paper (on page 5) and a slightly bigger item in the city supplement (on page 13).
It appears that the O.U. students want the examinations to be postponed.
Testing times…
The Vice Chancellor of O.U. and other officials met with the students and ‘counseled’ them to appear for the exams but the students are adamant. They said they won’t sit for the exams until the T-issue is settled. Mr K Chandra Sekhara Rao, on his part, earlier said that the Jharkhand movement went on for 19 years – hinting that people should be prepared for a long battle. By then, whether or not Telangana is formed, most of the students will be ineligible, because of age, for government jobs!
It is up to the students now to decide whether they want to go on with the agitation or take care of their studies and careers. At the time of writing, I don’t know whether the exams went on or nor; I don’t care.
Counseling is the key…
One hears a lot about counseling these days; the Chief Minister wants counseling centers for farmers who want to commit suicide. That’s a laugh. In the magazines, there are ‘advice’ columns by doctors and sexologists: at the end of the piece of advice – they all say: “Consult a marriage counselor near you.” Heck, why then is there a column in the first place?
You haven’t seen the last of me…
Pop star Cher (I don’t know her full – real – name), at 64, released an album which hit the top of pop charts. It is aptly titled: “You haven’t seen the last of me.” That’s the spirit! Life doesn’t end at 60. Well done Cher.
My nephews, one working in Bangalore and another in Brisbane (AU) ask my sister (aged only 53) to quit her job and live with one or other of them. They say: “We are making enough money; why should you work now?” My sister refuses to yield. She says she has reached a certain position in her job (from a teacher to Head Mistress of a school) and she wants to continue working until retirement. It is actually the culmination of 30 years of dedicated work, and she would like to enjoy the fruits of it.
One of my uncles works three days a week – after retirement. His family (wife and daughter) resent it: they tell him to relax. He cannot sit at home idle the whole week. Another uncle who retired a few months ago wants to have a go at another job in Hyderabad, if something comes his way.
Life doesn’t end at 58. Or 64…
Ab Mera Number Hain
Starting today, all of India is going to enjoy mobile number portability. You are no longer bound to the idiotic mobile network that sends you unwanted and unwarranted messages by the dozen. You hope it is from the guy who owes you money; or from the HR person of the company where you interviewed for a job. And you are told to dial this or that number to download hello tunes.
The technophoebe that I am, I haven’t figured out the difference between hello tunes and caller tunes. If you could, wish you the best.
Retakes of old films
This topic requires a full length blog but let me introduce the basic idea I have. It is all nostalgia. Anything you have seen ten years ago looks great in retrospect. Even if you were in prison back then, the life there seems so wonderful, the people so friendly.
That is the key to the success (or at least the many attempts) of many retakes of old films. More about it another day…

Happily Unmarried Ever After…

2011-01-12T04:46:00.000-08:00

I was in love with a girl way back in 1985. Well, in 1987 really. It was not love at first sight: it took me a long time to take a liking for her. Indeed, the first time I saw her was in a restaurant, with another guy from our class – and the impression I had was that she was a woman of loose morals. It was because of the generation gap that exists between small towns and metro cities: I came to Hyderabad from a small town, and she was a Hyderabadi; the guy with her was from Chennai (then called Madras). Let us call him Bob, who may reappear in this very personal blog of mine. But I digress…

How can I be so sure that I was in love with her? I will tell you…

A year after she left for the Benighted States, also known as United States of A., I was in a class, and was looking through the window; a woman of small frame, in a saree, in a distance was walking on the road beside the window. I thought, for a moment, that it was Mona. That is not her real name – but that is all I am going to reveal about my personal life. That moment, a year after I was in love with her, I knew for sure that I was in love with her. Then what happened?

I tried my best to go to the USA myself. I thought I could ‘get’ her if I was there: it did not work out. My VISA application was rejected although I had a tuition waiver and all that. In a while, she got married to an American, and not soon after – she gave birth to a bouncy baby girl. She called her, let us say, Zubaidah. It is the name of a woman I knew in Singapore, but not Mona’s (not her real name either) daughter. Another real girl called Mona came into my life later and she told me to try. I did not know what – but I tried. To be good, to be sportive, to run, to do things I was not used to. Sorry I digress again.

I waited for 7 or 8 long years for Mona, my darling’s, marriage to break up, so that I could propose. Oh well, let us go into flash back – in all this time, I never proposed to her, because I thought I was unworthy of her. So then, when she gave birth to Zubaidah, I lost hope. And then I decided not to get married to anyone other than Mona, who stands alone. If God made another one like her, and she chanced to come into my life, I am still willing to walk the seven steps with her – if she finds me worthy of her. I think I will be, because Mona made me a man, the man that I am now.

I am an old sentimental fool, please ignore me if this very personal blog is boring.

I have other reasons to be unhappy, but marriage – or not being married – is not one of them. Ever since I gave up hopes of gaining Mona’s hand, I have been happily unmarried, taking care of my mother. If ever, like I said, I find another one like Her, well I am for her; it is a different story whether she finds me to be the one for Her.

I told Mona in so many words that there is no one like her – so far. What she did, she changed her phone number and cut me off.

I had a dream recently: I call and her husband picks up the phone. He is very polite. As always, in realtime, he says, if I wish to talk to Mona. I said, No, I called to say I will never call or talk to her again and bother her. I know she feels sorry for me; for me to get married to a ‘good’ girl of my choice. But then, I am left with no choice.

Mona, U know what I mean; I am outta your life. I am happy not being married than get into something out of social pressure. And I know I will only make someone else’s life miserable if I do get into something.

God, Father in Heaven, give me the strength to deal with these worldly-wise people who said that I need someone to take care of me in my old age. I am already old; I don’t want to be a burden on someone else. If I am badly off, so then, God (I hope, Sire) will take care of me. If not, I don’t mind dying of hunger and thirst by the roadside….

Thanks for being with me thus far: I feel much better bleeding my heart out like this at this late hour.

My old mother is restless because I haven’t had dinner. I am not really drunk tonight but yes, I feel like sharing my innermost feelings with all who care to listen. Is that drunkenness?

Today is Swami Vivekananda’s birthday: this is one birthday I remembered in long time. Vive Kananda! as the newspapers of the day in the U.S. said…

Comrade Varavara Rao and Our Lord

2011-01-10T04:24:00.000-08:00

A month ago, around December 6th, in the year of Our Lord 2010 (notice the capitals), Comrade Varavara Rao wrote a poem – about our lord Rama (notice the lower case o-l): the highlight of the poem was that he said there is nothing creative about what all Rama did other than producing twins. I am glad that the good Comrade did not accuse Rama of denying his role in the ‘production’ of the kids Kush and Luv.
Indeed, our lord Rama sent his consort Sita to the forests on grounds of infidelity: really, on his suspicions. Muppaval Ranganayakamma, feminist and Marxist at large, accused Rama of being anti-women, because he suspected Sita. Oh well, whether or not Rama is anti-women or not, Comrade Varavara Rao, mercifully, did not make such allegations. However, he concluded that the only ‘creative’ thing Rama did was to produce twins. The Comrade never had the vital organs (round in shape and two in number) to say something about Our Lord, after whose year of birth the entire world calibrates the calendars – that he did not even produce a single kid (forget about twins).

One could go a step forward and say that Our Lord had an affair with a woman of (according to the mores of the day) ‘loose morals’. I don’t want to raise any hackles; I am very sorry if any ‘religious sentiments’ are hurt: I am only targeting Comrade Varavara Rao and his cohorts. Come on guys, be bold to make things about other religions too: why is Hinduism such an easy target?
The Comrade is not known to have made such bold remarks about other prophets who married more than once and ‘moralized’ (a word I use to mean in the lines of ‘legalized’) the marriage of a man to four women (at one time). Comrade Varavara Rao and other revolutionary poets find Hindu gods and goddesses easy targets: nobody is complaining. The Hindus in general don’t care if some virasam or sarasam poet caricatures their gods and goddesses.

Indeed, a good many god-loving Hindu cartoonists sketch cartoons on Ganesh-ji during the Ganesh Chaturdhi season; special comic issues of magazines are published with a plethora of cartoons on Ganesh-ji. That is the level of Hindu tolerance. But once in a while, there is an M F Hussain who gets unofficially ‘exiled’, but that is small consolation.

All religions are irrational

Belief itself is beyond reason: this is what philosophers of the west and east said for eons. Then what is particularly irrational about Hindus and their beliefs that Our Comrades (notice the capitals) attack them? The Comrades who don’t have two vital organs (round in shape and two in number) to say a word about the two minority religions and their beliefs, go all out to fork the majority religion with their wrinkly vital organ (one in number, boneless).

I dare Comrade Varavara Rao and sundry communists and Maoists to speak about Spanish inquisitions; about the Indian Christian Burial Grounds in Bangalore (now called Benguluru). I want them to pass cavalier remarks about the promiscuity of the prophets of other religions as easily as they lampoon Hindu gods (notice the lower case ‘g’) and Hindu beliefs.

Swami Asimanand
One thing is clear from this entire episode: the Hindu community is not going to sit idle, spreading its legs wide. Sorry to be crude, but that is how it is. This is Hindutva modi-fied, whether you like it or not. Long live Vibrant Gujarat.

Telavarademo swami…
As I write this, I am watching a show on television highlighting K J Yesudas and his super hit songs; one of them, here:
"Cheluvamuneelaga, chengata levani
Kalataku nelavai nilachina nelataku
Kalala alajadiki niddara karavai
Alasina deveri, alamelu manga ku –"

The nature of poetry , according to Edgar Allen Poe, is that it is untranslatable; I am not going to try – in this instance.

Mahatma Gandhi and Maddelachervu Suri

2011-01-04T05:12:00.000-08:00

Mahatma Gandhi and Gangula Suri Died of Natural Causes
When we look at it closely, both Mahatma Gandhi and Maddelachervu Suri died of natural causes: Gandhi died of hatred, which is a natural, human, emotion; and Suri died of violence, which is natural behavior of humans in a natural state. We say that those who live by the sword die by the sword, but that does not explain Gandhiji’s assassination; he was a victim of non-violence. It was a war between violence and non-violence. It was an intolerant youth who did not like the whole business of non-violence and tolerance, who ended the life of a great soul. If Godse told Gandhiji to give up his life, the great man would have willingly took poison and died, a la Socrates; that is speculation: let us not indulge in that.
In some versions of social contract theory, there are no rights in the state of nature, only freedoms, and it is the contract that creates rights and obligations. In other versions the opposite occurs: the contract imposes restrictions upon individuals that curtail their natural rights.
Mahatma Gandhi died of bullets from a commoner who turned violent after the partition carnage; Gandhiji paid the price for not wearing a bullet-proof vest and going into public with an open heart. (Rajiv Gandhi did wear a bullet-proof vest but yet died, at a later point in history; but that is another story.) Gandhiji died of natural causes: he was an advocate of non-violence in the midst of a violently divided country: violence was the order of the day. Godse was just an accident; Gandhiji could have died of a road accident, caused by a speeding car, when he was crossing the road slowly.
The Hobbesian Man
Charles Hobbes wrote, three centuries ago that “any person has a natural right to the liberty to do anything he wills to preserve his own life, and life is "solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short". He also posited that "during the time men live without a common power to keep them all in awe, they are in that condition which is called war; and such a war as is of every man against every man". Man, in a state of nature is – greedy, selfish, and horny, says the American philosopher and cartoonist Scott Adams.
State of nature is a term in political philosophy used in social contract theories to describe the hypothetical condition of humanity before the state's foundation. In a broader sense, the state of nature is the condition before the rule of positive law comes into being, thus being a synonym of anarchy. The idea of the state of nature was a part of a classical republicanism theory as a hypothetical reason of entering a state of society by establishing a government.
In this state of affairs, it is Gandhi against Godse; it is Suri against Bhanu: it is one man against the other. Road rage and greed are still the order of the day…
Speed and Greed…
Maddelachervu Suri died of greed: he wanted everything. He wanted millions, and fast; speed and greed killed him: because his followers, too wanted fast bucks, and ‘naturally’ differences cropped up in the process of their ‘settlements’. This led to the brutal, close-range shooting of Suri and his untimely death. There are several ‘angles’ to this news item: the followers of the late Paritala Ravindra are supposedly involved in this brutal murder. But the angle no one has looked at is that of human greed: Suri is greedy; his followers are greedy; his opponents are greedy; all of us are greedy.
Suri's last rites will be performed Wednesday, his family said.
Bottomline Error
In the previous feature on Aliens and their space stations, it was incorrectly printed that these ‘stations’ will be bombed; read it as “may be bombed.”

The wretched of the earth...

2011-01-03T04:57:00.000-08:00

The Aliens Are Here…

Fifteen years ago, I went to Qutb Institutional Area in Delhi to ask for a job with Down To Earth, a publication of the Center for Science and Environment. They asked me how much I was earning: when I mentioned my paltry salary with Tata Consultancy Services as a technical writer, they said – Look, we can’t afford you; get lost. Oh well, that was a sad thing, because even for a low salary, I would have loved to work for a ‘serious’ organization like CSE, than be a hack in the software industry. That is what I have been for nearly 14 years, before I got into teaching. About all that, another day…

Up above the world

First we had gated ‘colonies’ in cities like Delhi. We also had ‘enclaves’ – the meaning of an enclave is: “an area controlled by a foreign power within a sovereign state”. A nice example of an enclave is diplomatic enclaves – like Chanakyapuri in Delhi – where Indian law does not apply. If they commit crimes, you need to get permission from foreign powers to prosecute them; or you can at best repatriate them. ‘Enclaves’ other than diplomatic were very popular in the later half of the 20th centurty.

Then came ‘gated communities’ within cities across the country; they only allow the ‘istriwallah’ into their ‘communities’, because people are too lazy to do their laundry or too busy money-laundering! And now, the aliens are here. They are down to earth from ‘up above the world’.

The Aliens group took two full pages in the Times of India. It is up above the world. Oh, I must digress here…

Way back in 1999 – 2001 when I was in Singapore, I was living in a flat on the 18th floor of a 25-story apartment block. One of the lifts was under repair. One of my flat-mates had his parents over once; they came for a vacation. One morning they went out and in the evening when they came back, the other lift broke down. One old grandmother, one fat mother, and a fairly healthy father, luckily, had to walk up the steps – 18 stories! Gott in Himmel, how they suffered that day….

And now people are building 35-story buildings in Hyderabad. The following problems may crop up:

- power systems, even if they are under the control of the developers – can break down
- non-cooperation from domestic maids can occur
- people can throw stones at these glass facades
- there may be bomb-attacks from desperados (pro-T or Anti-T; pro-this or Anti-that
- resentment from other ‘communities’ around them can lead to social boycott
- water supply may be stopped by any municipal clerk who resents the invasion of the aliens into Hyderabad.
- the lifts can be jammed mechanically and you can get trapped, without oxygen, for several hours

Tasmat jagrata…

The extra terrestrials better go back to where they came from. Like ET, phone, home – they should call their ‘base stations’ and leave the space stations.

Their celebrations will be marred by protests; their daily lives will be made miserable; the roads leading to their ‘space stations’ could be dug up. Their cars may be attacked. The entire space station may be bombed. This is India, anything can happen.

Aliens, indeed! We don’t want you among us…

Christ said: Blessed are the meek – for they shall inherit the earth. I added: when the mighty migrate to Mars. Now the aliens are coming here to colonize the earth. People shall repel them. They will beat them back to where they came from – America, Australia, Bermuda, Britain, or Canada.

Get lost, aliens! We don’t want you here. One day, these aliens will be bombed. You will live in constant fear or stay away from these wonderful ‘schemes’. You can’t get down to earth and stay as aliens here: choose one way or the other.

Gachchibowli and Tellapur are not for you. Go to Mars or at least moon. There is no space on earth (definitely not in India) for Alien Space Stations. Stay clear of this project, is what Bottomline advises to prospective ‘dream-flat owners’ of the Alien Space Station.

If something untoward happens, you cannot say that you haven’t been warned…

I personally declare a war of words against these aliens and their space stations.

Bakrid Greetings from Bobby George Abraham

2010-11-17T05:41:00.000-08:00

Bobby George Abraham is a friend in the technical writing fraternity based in Trivandrum, Kerala. He is a god-loving (not god-fearing) Christian. As always, as it happens with Bottomline, the Bakrid issue went out without greetings (without the feature itself, in fact). This morning, however, I received Bakrid greetings from Bobby George Abraham. It did not matter that he was a Malayalee Christian and I was a Telugu Hindu. The festival stands for sacrifice, sharing, and charity.

Eid al-Adha (in Arabic) or Bakr Id (in India) is the "Festival of Sacrifice" which is an important religious holiday celebrated by Muslims worldwide to commemorate the willingness of Abraham (Ibrahim) to sacrifice his son Ishmael (Isma'il) as an act of obedience to God, before God intervened to provide him with a ram to sacrifice instead. The meat is divided into three parts to be distributed to others. The family retains one third of the share, another third is given to relatives, friends and neighbors, and the other third is given to the poor and needy.

Happy Id, Bobby George Abraham.

The Age of entertainment: Creators and consumers

In the age of entertainment, there will be two breeds of people: the creators, who design and produce objects of pleasure and leisure; and the consumers of the products designed by the creators. If you have to rank them, the consumers are the elite: they decide what is good and what is not. The designs created by the proletariat will get automatically produced and distributed by machines. There is no payment associated with the entire process. Everybody has their housing, food, transport and other needs covered. Status symbols such as a big car or a private pool will be eliminated. The rich and the poor dine at the same table.

Some creators have direct access to the entire consumer base; they are the super class among the creators. The other creators have to pass their designs through a corresponding super class of consumers. The consumer elite then forwards selected designs for mass productions. In any system, the guy who seeks approval is a supplicant: in the age of entertainment, the creators submit their work for approval. Of course, some of these creators – after many years of consistent work – get direct access to the entire consumer base, without ‘censors’. These creators are at the top of the heap in the age of entertainment.

By getting into the elite consumer class, you get the satisfaction of being in a position to decide what goes for mass production. The hoi polloi can ask for a particular design – and get a copy; but there will be no mass production without the approval of the elite consumer.

So also, the creators get the satisfaction of getting their work across to as many people as they can. The elite ‘proles’, those creators whose work goes for mass-production without censoring are the top of the pecking order; then come the elite consumers, although as the guys who decide what is good and what is bad, they have already approved some designers’ work as universally acceptable. So they have stepped to the number two slot. The next are regular creators, followed by mass consumers.

Has the time come for a change of guard in AP?

Speculation is rife that someone from Delhi will take over as the Chief Minister at the end of this week. In the Indian National Congress (INC), it is unusual for a minister or a Member of Parliament to be sent to the home state as CM. But we just had a deviation from that good tradition in Maharashtra. So also, people say that Mr S Jaipal Reddy. I beg to differ: Mr Jaipal Reddy is not a true-blue Congressman: he dallied with the Janata party and then the Janata Dal for quite some time. Mrs D Purandhareswari is required in Delhi.

It is going to be a local, very likely a Telangana woman. If Dr J Geetha Reddy is nominated, remember that you have read it in Bottomline – Trust News.

Children’s Day Comes 9 Months After…

2010-11-13T05:36:00.000-08:00

There is a joke back in the 1990s about children’s day in India: it comes exactly 9 months after Valentine’s day. You do the math.

Another joke doing the rounds on SMS and email these days is about the similarity between Michael Jackson, Jawaharlal Nehru, and Aurthur Clarke (the author): they all loved children!

Jokes apart, let us get down to the business of the day: no cabinet changes for now – not until January. Big deal, let us wait (and speculate as ever) for another two months. And meantime, remember one of India’s great sons.

The Dharma Bhoomi…

India has been home to saints and scholars, people who made great sacrifice for the uplift of the poor and down-trodden. It is also mother of leaders and statesmen who got recognized the world over as visionaries. Mahatma Gandhi was one: we celebrate his birthday with a dry day! And then there is Jawaharlal Nehru.

The son of a wealthy Indian barrister and politician, Motilal Nehru, Nehru became a leader of the left wing of the Congress Party when still fairly young. Rising to become Congress President, under the mentorship of Mahatma Gandhi, Nehru was a charismatic and radical leader, advocating complete independence from the British Empire. In the long struggle for Indian independence, in which he was a key player, Nehru was eventually recognized as Gandhi's political heir. Throughout his life, Nehru was also an advocate for Fabian socialism and the public sector as the means by which long-standing challenges of economic development could be addressed by poorer nations.

He was heir to Mahatma Gandhi’s legacy of peace and non-violence. As one of the founders of the Non-aligned Movement, he was also an important figure in the international politics of the post-war era. He was instrumental in putting India firmly on the democratic path. Many industrialists of the pre-independence era were influenced by Nehru and his brand of paternalistic socialism, like GD Birla and JRD Tata.

Happy Birthday Chicha Nehru. [That ‘chicha’ was deliberate: that is how Chacha is called in Hyderabadi.]

Bill Gates and His Evil Foundation

The foundation of Microsoft is foul. It meant producing software and stuff at a low production cost, and extracting maximum profit from it. Thereon, you donate a part of the earnings, score browny points, get tax exemption, and some merit points in St Peter’s register at the Pearly Gates. Whereas Dhirubhai told his sons – Mukesh and Anil Ambani – to make phone calls cheaper than post cards. They have done one better: they made communication (between reliance and reliance phones) FREE. Can you beat it?

India’s unemployed and underemployed

The unemployed and under-employed in India have a great time. In the western countries, if you don’t have a job, it is a social stigma. You are cut off from a lot of things: but here, we have large famblies, various celebrations and rituals, and one can keep oneself busy through out the year.

One of my brothers is a real estate dealer. There is no business for the past three years or so (ever since he entered the field)! But he cares not. He goes to the shivalaya on Mondays, Hanuman temple on Tuesdays, Ayyappa temple on Wednesdays, Sai temple on Thursdays, and so on. He is a busy man, earning not a ‘dammidi’ (the old copper coin).

In the west, people work with extra vigor until they retire, and then don’t know what to do with their free time. In India, ‘retirees’ have a lot of fun. As do the unemployed. So which part of the world is best suited for the age of entertainment? Like when all jobs are done by machines and all that humans have to do is to find means of keeping themselves busy? The answer is India: this is where the most number of movies are produced, and viewed (on the basis of ticket sales).

Happiness Now… the Great Indian Joint Family

2010-11-12T04:27:00.000-08:00

There is this story of a guy resting under a tree along a motorway. A businessman, going by that way, stops his car – just to take a short break and look at the countryside – and approaches the lazy guy. He asks: “why don’t you do something productive and profitable?”

The lazy guy says: “What will happen if I indulge in industry, tirelessly, like you? The rich man tells him that he can earn a lot of money. “What happens then? says the lazy guy. The rich man says: “You can save a lot of money, and build a house, etc.” The lazy guy quips: “Then what?” The rich man is upset, but chooses to proceed with the conversation, because it is intriguing to him that someone doesn’t understand the meaning of earning and saving, which is all he thought of so far. He says: “Well, you can rest for the rest of your life and enjoy the leisure…”
“That is what I was doing over there before you came and started this whole pointless conversation…” said the lazy man. Humans are known for delayed pleasure, and working their heads off to get there. No longer. We want happiness now. And happiness happens in the head.

Man, machine and the dog

Some sociologist (or futurologist), one of my students at the world school would know – that there will be only two employees in future industries: a man and a dog. The man is there to feed the dog, and the dog is there to see to it that the man does not go anywhere near the equipment. That was in essence what the author of “The Age of Entertainment” wrote about. We are not anywhere near that scene right now, but it looks like robots and other technologies will lead to such an eventuality.
Then what would we do, as humans, with all our leisure? My mother has the answer: she gets up at 9, has coffee, looks at the paper. [So in the age of entertainment, we should have newspapers and new channels] Then she goes for a wash, does a bit of puja, and has breakfast. Then begins her tryst with day-television. [Forget about night, or even evening, day-television is going to be big in the age of entertainment.] She goes on watching, actually listening to, the sounds of her favourite language – in fact the only language she knows (Telugu).

She is not very sure what is the difference between the box out there now (a television set) and the box in the olden times (a radio receiver). This goes on until 9 in the night, with lunch, evening coffee, and a dinner happening with the idiot box on all of the time. She briefly exercises her limbs around 6 p.m. for a few minutes and she really lives the life of a person belonging to the ‘leisure’ class.

I would like a life style like hers, with a minor variation: she writes the name of Srirama in a book, maybe fills a half page per day; I would write an occasional article about what the young people wear today. [Like the ‘piece’ Bertie Wooster wrote for his aunt’s magazine, Milady’s Boudoir.] My style is grunge, but I see guys spending an arm and a leg literally to get the grunge tag! I wish to ‘disambiguate’ that scenario.

We have bigger houses and smaller families

Germaine Greer visited India twenty years ago, and wrote about the great Indian joint family – which is like an MNC operating in multiple locations. I belong to a big family: one of my brothers is in my home town, I am in Hyderabad, another brother of mine too is in the same street. Two brothers are peripatetic. When my sister visits Hyderabad, she parks herself at my place but spends a lot of time at my brothers. We are almost a joint family – without living under one roof. I consult my brother in Mumbai about a television set I need to buy for mom. My bank statement goes to my brother’s flat down the street. I am not married, and all my siblings take decisions on my behalf.

I don’t know what intrigued Germaine Greer about the great Indian family. It intrigues me, too, what Julia Roberts found intriguing about Hinduism. Is it that the bigger-houses, smaller-families thingie triggers this passion for India?

Because you don’t know to be drunk on moonlight…

2010-11-12T04:24:00.001-08:00

Because you can’t say, Shri Shri, between darkness and light
Between Big Brother and and the Heavens above
Because You did not care, not I, Nor care now
Or ever, if you get the drift of it now…

Because, you did not know to be wise and honest,
Did neither cherish the thrills of leisure nor care,
Because you did not know that happiness happens in the head,
Not in the Netherlands…

Because you did not care to dream
Beyond the realm of doubt – into certainty
Because you did no think beyond
The obvious and the trivial

Because you did not see beyond
The obvious and the trivial…
Because you did not build upon your dream
Into the realm of the possible

Because you did not care less what the nasty dynasties
Of yore and now, and the English Devis,
Of yore and now, and the trinity of language, caste, religion
What nasty dynasties play upon, from English to Devis

Because you did know what moonlight meant,
Mac or Bill, or whatever you are; Not I…
Because you did not know what it took to be
Resolute, erudite, sophisticated, and above all, Avonte Garde

Because I was the first to get there
Not you…

Ratan Tata and Dhirubhai Ambani, and the ‘aam admi’

2010-11-12T04:21:00.000-08:00

When Mukesh and Anil Ambani mooted the idea of a wireless network company (which eventually took shape as Reliance Mobile), the old man who was in bed then asked them how much a post card cost. Perhaps he did not use a post card in some decades by then; anyway, the brother told him that it was 15 paise. It has been 15 paise since I was a child (my father was a prolific post card writer, who at best wrote an occasional in-land letter card.) The story goes that the legendary Dhirubhai told his sons that they should go ahead with the project (of the wireless network) if they could make it cheaper for the ‘aam janta’ to communicate over their network than to send a post card.

Forget about instant communication, the old man wanted them to make it cheaper than a post card which could take more than a week to get to the remote villages. And did the brothers do it! Not only Reliance, but other networks now offer SMS for 1 paisa per message. If you need to convey some information – critical in some cases – without taking recourse to text messaging (making sure that the other guy is ‘online’), you could do it in 10 seconds and pay 10 paise – over the network I subscribe to. There are cheaper options too, but I am happy with what I got. I am not too good at math now (not as sharp as I was in my school days).

Does Bill Gates make software ‘accessible’ to the ‘aam admi’? No, he makes us pay through our noses. And then donates a wee bit of his ‘fortune’ for charity. He gets on world trips exhorting other people to donate. Can there be a bigger joke than that?

Gandhi, Nehru, and the Tatas

J R D was a staunch nationalist. He built companies to build India. He actually flew the first ever plane by an Indian. When time came, he happily conceded ‘his’ company to the government. In case some of you don’t know, Indian air lines and Air India are Tata businesses that were nationalized. Not that J R D had an option, but what is important is that he ceded his business willingly.

Ratan Tata, now, started the biggest revolution in transportation – the Nano car. Read all about it in Small Wonder…

My date with the dentist

This was two months ago. I had excruciating tooth ache. I went to the dentist and he suggested some antibiotics, and told me to come back if the pain doesn’t go away. Well, the pain was gone for a few days but returned with rejuvenated vigor in three days. Back I went up the steps of the dentists surgery, well before he commenced his practice in the evening, and waited. He took a look, and said we need to do a root canal. Having heard terrible tales of woe of people who underwent a root canal and had it haunting them for years to come, I meekly asked him: Can’t you just pull it out?

Dr Kiran Kumar, the dentist, laughed and said: Pulling the tooth out is going to cause you the same pain as doing a root canal. (A root-canal treatment is more expensive, but I recommend that we open it up, and see if we can save it through root-canal treatment.) Initially, I told him to start the good work. But then, in a while I said, let me start the procedure later in the week. I was not mentally prepared. (Dentist dentist let me go; I’ll come again another day…)

He prescribed another course of antibiotics for the three days to come and set me free. Three days later the pain was back, and this time I mustered enough courage to mount the dentist’s chair. He is an excellent dentist: the procedure got over in two weeks (four sittings) and I am able to use that tooth as well as I use the others. It has been two months, as I said, and I am extremely happy with the results.

Bottomline recommends: Dr K Kiran Kumar (MDS) of Kirans Multispeciality Dental Hospital in Vidya Nagar, on the road from RTC X Roads to Hindi Maha Vidyalaya.

How Could We Forget Balagopal?

2010-11-12T04:20:00.000-08:00

Bottomline doesn’t claim to get there first (or anywhere near it before the whole world knows about it). Our fame to claim is to bring another perspective, a bit ‘hatke’ from the usual stories. What I usually do is to go through the top stories of the day, breaking in from online sources and choose two or three interesting ones and put a different spin on them.

It has been more than ten days since the death anniversary of the late professor L Balagopal, who was the leading light in the Andhra Pradesh Civil Liberties Council early in his career and broke away from them to form the Andhra Pradesh Human Rights Commission – decrying the violence let loose by the naxalites, sometimes targeted at the common people.

I did see the story but kind of sat on it: thousand apologies. Not that the big blunder I committed can be attenuated by a million apologies even. It would have been a fit occasion to remind people of the blog I wrote earlier, on Professor L Balagopal, and to compare Balagopal’s polemics with those of Arundhati Roy.

I also missed an opportunity to join the few people who organized a meeting on the occasion. When I learn to use the cell-phone organizer to remind me, more than birthdays and things, I am going to set up a reminder of L Balagopal’s death anniversary.

Talking of reminders of death anniversaries, there is a ‘dharma satram’ in Varanasi, where you pay a certain amount; the trust which overseas the ‘satram’ puts that in a fund, and year after year, they give free food to people who come by. Those who sponsor the meal get a post card every year that on such and such day (the death anniversary of the person in whose name you made the donation), meals were provided (or will be provided). And because it comes from the cultural and religious capital of India – as my friend Sanjeev Pandey refers to his home town – the date on it authentic: sometimes there is confusion about the ‘thithi’ (date) and this post card often comes in to clarify on the dispute.

The real assets of IT companies

I had always suspected it, that the IT companies’ shares soar so high because of their land holdings, not so much for the profits they make. Of course N R Narayana Murthy wants us to believe that shareholders’ value is in the people they have (a school drop out like Bill Gates could founded the biggest software empire) and their customer base.

But here is the Infosys annual report said: “Creating land banks was a key challenge. We persuaded state governments to allot us land.” At throw-away prices, he did not say. Following these statements, Sugata Srinivasaraju did a story in the Outlook (7 November, 2005). The devil must be given its due (and so must be Vinod Mehta and his crew).

Kudos, Outlook.

Sidharth Shankar Ray’s demise

Bottomline caught up with this rather quick, considering the usual response time. An interesting thing about this gentleman is that he won an election as an independent support by the left! Johar

Engish Devi: Temples of the new age

Nehru said that big dams and industrial installations are the temples of the new age: Arundhati Roy damns them unconditionally but that is beside the point. Now the dalit bahujans in U.P. are building a temple for the English language. Lord Mecaulay would have loved to unveil the reification and deification of his scheme for India and the Indian middle class.

Hyderabadi tongue

I promised once that I will introduce peculiar Hyderabadi expression which would pose a challenge to a Hindi speaker from the north. Consider: kapda marna; kapda means cloth and marna means beat. Put together, what sense could an outsider make? It means, “Clean the table by beating the cloth on it”.

Now how about this one? ‘anjan marna…’ Stranger hit? It means ‘to behave like a stranger, show no recognition of the other person’. This is said in a light-hearted banter, when the other person hasn’t seen you or heard you in the first place.

Which Side Are You On: Good Or Evil?

2010-11-06T06:56:00.002-07:00

Kancha Ilaiah, of whom I spoke earlier in this column, had a meeting yesterday to celebrate Narakasura Vardhanti. His logic was that upper caste Hindus – led by Brahmins – have oppressed the dalit bahujans (maybe Dravidians) of this country, to the extent that even the dalit gods have been represented as evil. Naraka is just one of them: so let us now celebrate his ascent to the ‘other world’.

OK, I do agree that history, and myth created out of history, has a slant favoring the victor; in this case, it is the upper caste Hindus. Why then wage a war against Hindu gods and goddesses? Like B R Ambedkar, why not convert to Buddhism (or, Christianity). Why remain a ‘Hindu’ on paper, and then cry aloud that one is not a Hindu. On another occasion, I had said that there is no ritual associated with converting oneself to Hinduism (so, I advised Julia Roberts to take it easy). So also, there is no need to ‘prove’ that one is not a Hindu: you just say so, and you are relieved of the burden of centuries of oppression.

Then again, all Hindus, upper-caste or dalit bahujan (and even some Christians) celebrate Onam, Which is the largest festival in Kerala. It marks the homecoming of the legendary King Mahabali. The festival lasts for ten days and is linked to many elements of Kerala's culture and tradition. Intricate flower carpets, elaborate banquet lunch, snake boat races, and kaikottikkali dance all play a part in the festival.

The Asura Dynasty of Prgjyothisha
Narakasura and his kingdom, Pragjyotisha, find mention in both the Mahabharata and the Ramayana, in the sections which were written not before the first century. His son, Bhagadatta, is said to have fought for the Kauravas in the Mahabharata battle. (Interestingly, the Andhra tribe which migrated to current Andhra Pradesh also fought with Karna: many people have names like Karan in the Telangana region.) The Naraka myth gets the most extensive elaboration in the Upapurana called Kalika Purana (10th century), which was composed in Assam itself. Here the legend of Janaka of Videha, the father of Sita, is embellished and added to the legend of Naraka. There are conflicting and entangled tales associated with Naraka. The word ‘naraka’ itself means the nether world in Sanskrit.

The legend of Narakasura is important in the history of Assam since Narakasura is cited as the progenitor of many dynasties that ruled Kamarupa in historical times. A hill, to the south of Guwahati is named after him. He is also associated with the myth of the shakta goddess and place of worship Kamakhya. My colleague Mr Talukdar (who hails from Assam) says that the mongoloid kings were the so-called asuras Thus, according to him Narakasura is not mentioned in relation to Diwali; it is celebrated as the day Ram returned to Ayodhya after killing Ravana; this is the myth prevalent in northern India.

The festival of lights
I overheard someone from the front office asking a colleague how he celebrated Diwali. He said that he was a Christian. So what, the lady quipped, it is just a festival of lights! (Why do so many of us celebrate Christmas – mainly at pubs and night clubs :) Indeed, in neighboring China, there is the lantern festival (which, curiously, is celebrated more in Singapore than in Mainland China) around the onset of winter.

Power corrupts; absolute power corrupts absolutely…
The epics Ramayana and Mahabharata were written and rewritten over centuries and various digressions got added to it, so the coherence of these stories is in peril. Other texts also have undergone changes over a period of time. Essentially, in most cases, we see that the epics and other texts talk about the victory of good over evil. Very often, we see that the ‘evil’ is nothing but a great person who gets powers from the Gods (like Ravana, Naraka, Hiranya Kashipa), and starts abusing his power: that is, the power gets into their head.

Often, it is written by the victor, and the victor paints the loser as evil. The point is, let us do reexamine these myths and legends: but let us not promote hatred for one another. It is the strength of India that a Malayali from Kerala, who believes that their King Mahabali visits them once every year and an Asomi who believes that Naraka was their deity, and a north Indian who believes that Vishnu killed both Bali and Naraka and that he was a part of the trinity – can share a table, at a restaurant, or the dais on the eve of diwali.

Three cheers to Narakasura!

facebook.com/sankara.rajanala.

2010-11-06T06:56:00.001-07:00

2010-10-28T01:43:00.000-07:00

Arundhati Roy Supports Separatist Youth in Kashmir
I am just trying to grab your attention with a catchy headline, but indeed she does that – supporting youth who hurl stones at police and armed forces. The reason it is not an appropriate headline is that she does a hell of a lot of other things, to wit:
• Sardar Sarovar Project
• United States foreign policy, the War in Afghanistan
• India's nuclear weaponisation
• Criticism of Israel
• 2001 Indian Parliament attack
• The Muthanga incident
• Comments on 2008 Mumbai attacks
• Criticism of Sri Lanka
• Views on the Naxals

Poor Medha Patkar has been stuck with the Narmada Bachao Andolan (against the Sardar Sarovar Project) for decades now, but Ms Roy has moved on quite a deal in all these years.

Ms Roy’s modus operandi is different: the Muthanga incident, for example went this way… After 48 days, a police force was sent into the area to evict the occupants—one participant of the movement and a policeman were killed, and the leaders of the movement were arrested. Arundhati Roy travelled to the area, visited the movement's leaders in jail, and wrote an open letter to the then Chief Minister of Kerala, A.K. Antony now India's Defence Minister, saying "You have blood on your hands." And moved on to pressing demands of the oppressed elsewhere.

More recently, earlier this month, at a seminar in Delhi named "Azadi – The only way", where Roy took part with Hurriyat Conference leader S.A.S.Geelani and Varavara Rao, Roy said that "Kashmir should get azadi from bhookhe-nange Hindustan". What does that mean? If Hindustan is rich, and not bhookha-nanga, Kashmiris will want to be a part of it? So now – with funds from Pakistan they will make Jannat out of Kashmir? What kind of sh** is this silly girl talking of?

Although it was widely speculated that she could potentially face sedition charges from the center for her remarks in Delhi, as of October 26, 2010, CNN-IBN reported that the Indian government is not likely to take action against her: which is the right approach. She would attract international attention and become the poster girl of free speech and stuff. She is already getting more attention than she deserves, mainly because of her bewitching looks (Beware beware her flashing eyes her floating hair, for she on royalties hath fed and drunk the milk of Booker prize…)

She should be left to be dealt with by the Bajrang Dal: Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) affiliate Bajrang Dal has said it will do to writer Arundhati Roy what it has already done to painter Maqbool Fida Husain — teach a lesson. The warning was given by Delhi Bajrang Dal chief Vinod Bansal at a meeting in South Delhi on Wednesday to celebrate the accession of Kashmir to India. Mr. Bansal advised Ms. Roy “not to adopt the path of M. F. Husain misinterpreting the right to freedom of expression…our country has already taught a lesson to Mr. Husain…” I think the Indian state should let Ms Roy and the Bajrang Dal slug it out, and leave the matter there.

Your freedom ends where my nose begins (Anonymous): if separatist Kashmiri youth protest the ‘occupation’ of the valley through peaceful means, there is no issue. They are hurling stones at the armed forces; they are in open revolt with the Indian state; they need to be dealt with as such – enemies within. Does Arundhati Roy have the guts to tell the separatists not to throw stones and carry out their protests peacefully? They will clip her nose, nose ring and all…

The Indian state seems to be the only soft target. Her justification for saying what she said about Kashmir and azadi is ridiculous: she says that is what many Kashmiris are saying. Of course they would say that, but as G B Shaw said, if 50 000 people say something foolish, it is still foolish. In her own words: “I spoke about justice for the people of Kashmir who live under one of the most brutal military occupations in the world; for Kashmiri Pandits who live out the tragedy of having been driven out of their homeland..” Aha, she does care for the Kashmiri pundits; does Mr Geelani care too?

She wrote: “I met young stone pelters who had been shot through their eyes. I travelled with a young man who told me how three of his friends, teenagers in Anantnag district, had been taken into custody and had their finger-nails pulled out as punishment for throwing stones.” So what does she want the police/armed forces to do, when being stone-pelted? Show the other cheek? And finally: “Pity the nation that has to silence its writers for speaking their minds.” What kind of a writer and what mind is she talking about?

Let her tell her Hurriyat friends to invite Salman Rushdie to share a platform with them, and talk about free speech.

Political Andhrapology of the Telangana Issue

2010-10-27T00:40:00.000-07:00

Language is the basis of nation formation in Europe, and state formation in India. Telugu is spoken in both Andhra and Telangana regions, and in fact in the Rayalaseema region. Why then are the leaders and people of the Telangana region clamoring for a separate state? One has to look at the history of Hyderabad/Andhra Pradesh after independence, and the political ‘andhrapology’ of the state of Andhra Pradesh.

History of Hyderabad/Andhra Pradesh

In December 1953, the States Reorganization Commission (SRC) was appointed to prepare for the creation of states on linguistic lines. The SRC was not in favor of an immediate merger of Telangana region with Andhra state, despite the common language between the two. Here is a case of the bonding of language being overcome by historical difference.

Leaders of Telangana felt that merger with Andhra should be based on a voluntary and willing association of the people and that it is primarily for the people of Telangana to take a decision about their future. (However, the people of Telangana were never given a choice: indeed, in the most recent by-election to 12 assembly segments, they sent out a strong message for the formation of a separate Telangana state.) The people of Telangana had several concerns about the composite state of Andhra Pradesh. The region had a less developed economy than Andhra, but with a larger revenue base (mostly because it taxed rather than prohibited alcoholic beverages), which people of Telangana feared might be diverted for use in Andhra. They also feared that planned irrigation projects on the Krishna and Godavari rivers would not benefit Telangana proportionately even though people of Telangana controlled the headwaters of the rivers. It was also feared that the people of Andhra, who had access to higher standards of education under the British Rule, would have an unfair advantage in seeking Government and Educational jobs. These concerns still cause worry to the people of Telangana.

Andhrapology of the Telangana issue
The people in the Telangana region are generally mild-mannered, accommodative, courteous, generous and genteel. On contrary, people of Andhra, although stylized in their speech and overly polite, are a bunch of pushy, greedy people. In saying this, I include myself in the pushy and greedy lot, being from the Andhra region myself. Over the decades, though (three decades, to be precise) I have learnt to cope with the Telangana dialect, which sounds rude, as I have learnt to appreciate the inherent nobility of the Hyderabadis.

A small example will illustrate the greed of the Andhra people and leaders the majority of water supply is from the Telangana region, yet canal irrigation disproportionately benefits the Coastal Andhra region with relative underdevelopment of Telangana.

Moreover, Telugu film makers, who are predominantly from the Andhra region, took to making fun of the Telangana dialect. One can understand the ire of the Telangana people when they hear comedians and villains in movies talking the Telangana dialect, and the heroes and heroines using the Andhra dialect.

Doctors, Lawyers, and English Teachers

2010-10-25T06:54:00.001-07:00

There is the joke about a doctor who meets a lawyer at a party. He tells the lawyer that people ask him for medical advice for various problems at social gatherings and asks the lawyer if he (the doctor) could send them a bill for consultation. The lawyer answers in the affirmative, saying that a consultation is a consultation, whether they come to his (the doctor’s) surgery or outside it. The next day, the doctor receives a bill from the lawyer. The doctor is confused and calls up the lawyer: “what is this bill you sent me for?” he asks. “That is for the advice I gave you yesterday at the party,” says the lawyer.

This is a hazard attached to many professionals I am sure, other than doctors and lawyers. Maybe Amitabh Bachchan is buttonholed and asked for acting tips. I wonder what advice he can provide to them within the span of a few minutes. Maybe Sachin Tendulkar is asked for batting tips at social dos. I wonder if he resents it or welcomes it. Is there any other way to improve one’s batting than “practice, practice, and practice!’ Will people who look for a short cut to glory (and a position in the Indian Eleven) take that advice seriously?

For my part, as an English teacher, I get annoyed when people tell me: “Sir, my grammar (or vocabulary) is very week, please help me improve.” I teach English for a living, I don’t want to have anything to do with teaching English in my free time. Even if I do, as I tell my wannabe students, I need a class of at least 10, to get the inspiration to teach. And I want them to work on their English in their free time! Moreover, English cannot be taught over a cup of coffee or at the water cooler. I have mastered the language over two decades, studiously reading good literature and inculcating in my writing the good practices.

On the other hand, there are one breed of professionals who I think will be very happy to provide and exchange tips and tricks: software developers. They love to talk shop, and get into discussion of multiple threads and memory stacks at the drop of a hat. I am sure investment bankers too would love to share their business savvy with people – of course with a view to pushing stocks in which they have a vested interest, and by way of attracting customers to their bank or financial institution.

Jackie Coogan, the Kid
Today in history, in 1914, Jackie Coogan was born. He was the first child artist to act in a full-length movie, “The Kid”, along with Charlie Chaplin. The Kid is one of the most poignant movies, with Chaplin’s characteristic, sardonic humor. The Kid is notable as being the first feature length comedy film to combine comedy and drama, as one of the opening titles says: "A picture with a smile, and perhaps a tear..."

Act Two Of Kar’natakam’ On 14th October… Gimme An Empty!

2010-10-20T07:11:00.000-07:00

Governors are increasingly getting ‘active’ – the latest in the league being the Karnataka governor Mr H R Bharadwaj, who told Mr B S Yeddyurappa to prove his strength once again on the floor of the assembly. The high court, meantime, has to deal with the petition of the suspended MLAs. The die is cast: it maybe curtains down for B S Y in the Kar’natakam’. Unless, of course, the Gali brothers can work some magic with their moneybags. The Congress party reacted that the vote of confidence after the disqualification of the opposing MLAs is a mockery of democracy. It demanded that the B S Y government should be dismissed.

However, the governor has given another chance to B S Y to prove his strength: like I said earlier, I don’t speculate about affairs other than Andhra politics; let’s wait and see. For its part the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) is asking for the recall of the governor. Legal opinion is divided on whether the governor has the right to ask for a ‘re-vote’ of confidence.

As the drama unfolds in the neighboring state, the cabinet reshuffle in Andhra is getting delayed. Although ex Minister J C Diwakar Reddy said that the two are not related, it is clear that the high command wants to deal with one issue at a time. If B S Y is dethroned in Karnataka, the Congress will have an upper hand over the the Gali – Y S Jaganmohan Reddy axis. That gives the party in Andhra Pradesh an edge in dealing with dissidents.

Big B turns 68

At the age of 68, when most Indians sit at home and read the papers and watch day TV, Big B is making waves once again on the small screen – on Kaun Banega Karorpati (KBC), the celebrated game show which was at the heart of the Oscar-winning Slum dog millionaire. May he live long and enchant his viewers for many more years. As always, Bottomline is late in wishing him a happy birthday. I think I will watch KBC this season. And belated happy birthday, Big B (who should be called Busy Bee).

‘Unemployment’ economists get the Nobel

Three economists who theorized on unemployment have got the Nobel Prize for economics this year: one of them (Dale Mortenson) interestingly theorized about the unemployment related to people who are ‘between jobs’ (a euphemism for people who just lost his or her job and is looking for a new job.) I have been between jobs for two years now, although I do have a day job – it pays me a pittance; what I want is a ‘big job’. Well, anyway, it is quite a coincidence that I am in the thick of applying for jobs, when ‘unemployment’ gets the economics Nobel!

Marketing and Manufacuring; The Age of Entertainment

2010-10-20T07:10:00.001-07:00

The model followed by the developed nations should not be followed by developing nations, said the Prime Minister Dr Manmohan Singh. The advanced countries essentially looted the third world countries and became rich. They have taken natural resources from the developing countries, and sold ‘processed and packaged’ products back to these countries, and thereby got rich. This model cannot be replicated on a large scale. Japan is the only exception to this; China tried it but we don’t know how successful it would be.

‘China-made’ has the same ring to it as had the Made in Japan label, before it became a symbol of prestige. Like the guy in Inscrutable Americans (Satish), the strange thing about America is that is has so many Japanese goods. But for other third world countries Japan is a hard act to emulate.

One thing that goes with the assimilation of Indian economy into the world economy is that there is excess baggage in the form of the consumerist culture. If you look at any ‘modern’ product, there more money is spent on packaging and marketing than on production. The product not only meets a demand, but also aims to entertain. Consider the glue sticks – they are modeled on lip stick dispensers: the amount of plastic can produce 4 bottles of glue: it takes a bit of time to use the glue bottles with a brush in them (and you can reuse them).

What is happening in the west is that nobody wants to study hardcore science and technology: more and more people go for marketing, management, economy, and law. More and more third world countries and people from third world countries are doing fundamental research. The agenda for fundamental research, however, is set forth by moneybags in the advanced countries. As Peter Drucker remarked, the relation between basic and applied science has turned upside down; instead of applied science (technology) leveraging the findings of fundamental research, now the direction of fundamental research programs is decided by technology.

That means, more money goes into wireless communication projects than into newer, safer varieties of seeds (in the field of agriculture).

The Age of Entertainment
There was this book called Age of Entertainment: I am unable to find it on the web now and I don’t remember the author. The main spoint made by the book is that, with the machines taking over the work of humans, basic questions like food security and health and so on no longer require human attention. That leaves humans with a lot of time on their hands and we need means to keep ourselves engaged. Unfortunately, according to www.thehungersite.com, we have a long way to go to food security and basic health.

Today is the D-day for Yeddy
The Karnataka high court postponed the verdict on the disqualified MLAs to Thursday. More tension for Mr B S Yeddyurappa. We don’t know anything about the other hearing – in the Andhra Pradesh high court pertaining to in-house entertainment.
Bottomline: Marketing is just liquor and guessing – Dilbert.

Machilipatnam Express – Secunderabad (Sunday) Special

2010-10-12T06:59:00.001-07:00

Machilipatnam is slowly getting on to the South Central Railway map. It has a long history and a glorious future. The first ever train in the country (the first ever track laid) was between Machilipatnam and Margaon (Goa). But in the recent past, there was a time when some 4 compartments were lugged with the Narsapur express and were detached at Gudivada; from there on, these were attached to a passenger train to Machilipatnam. Now we have our own Machilipatnam Express. (And two return trains to Secunderabad on Sundays!

On the way to Machilipatnam, it was terrible: my ticket didn’t get confirmed, so got a half of the side birth; most uncomfortable. But it was something one had to do – damn the discomfort but get there and do the deed, somehow. With all the brothers and sisters, it was not a gloomy affair but a rather sumptuous – if hectic, for the women folk, ‘do’. Most of the folks left by evening; thank goodness, there weren’t enough cots and mattresses for more than the few of us left for the night. This is the annual jamboree – my father’s death ceremony, rich in ritualistic agnihotram and the fumes. Looking at the fire was thrilling; you keep it going with small sticks and ghee.

There was once a question on a mailing list of Indians in Finland: why is that we use ghee instead of petrol for our rituals. I said that we haven’t updated our rituals in thousands of years – when people used ghee because there was no petrol (I am not sure when petrol was discovered, but these rituals obviously belong to an era before that.) I am reminded of a story of Satya Sai Baba. Here it goes…

The new Swamiji and his new Cat

There was once a swamiji, with sishyas (disciples) under his tutelage. He was living in an ashram, and one day a cat came there and took shelter in the ashram. Everyday, when the swamiji was performing his puja, the cat would jump around and spill something or topple something else. So, the swamiji started to find the cat, put it in a basket and put a lid on top, before starting the puja. After the puja, he would let the cat out of the basket. Time went on, and the swamiji passed away: the senior most desciple took over the ashram. They continued to find the cat, put it in a basket and put a lid, before puja; and releasing it – after the puja. In due season, the cat also died.

Now, the new ‘swamiji’ sent his disciples to find a new cat. Before the daily puja, he would bring the new cat and put it in a basket and put a lid on top of it. And release it after the puja!

The moral of the story is: try to understand the meaning of rituals. If ghee costs more than petrol (indeed it does), it is time to move on the petrol. I don’t believe in the whole ragmatazz associated with the death anniversary (‘shraadha karma’) but I sit there and go through the motions. I am not unlike the new swamiji – in that I follow what the pundit says, without questioning; the only difference is that I at least entertain the questions in my mind as to why ghee should be used when petrol is available, and so on.
Return by Secunderabad (Sunday) Special

The Secunderabad (Sunday) Special train is commissioned to take back the crowds that land up in Machilipatnam on Saturday and Sunday. Obviously, that is in addition to the regular train. As luck would have it, I had a decent night’s sleep on the train (with a confirmed ticket and an upper berth). The train got delayed by 2 hours, which meant I had an extra two hours of sleep on the train. Well, it is back to the salt mines now, at the college.

Karnataka imbroglio

Act one of the drama in Karnataka has ended with the score 1-0 in favour of Mr Yeddyurappa. The Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) is celebrating but it is early days now: the opposition is unhappy and says the vote of confidence was illegal. The BJP says that the 11 BJP MLAs have been bought. This kind of trading of charges is common and the one with more money wins the vote: it appears that round one is in favour of Mr Yeddyurappa and the Gali brothers. When there was a vote on the bill regarding civilian nuclear establishments, the Congress won it with money power. Now, let us see what Mr H D Kumara Swamy Gowda has up his sleeve.

Does it mean the Congress high command is going to go slow with regard to Mr Y S Jaganmohan Reddy for the time being? Watch this space…

Two State Separated By One Language

2010-10-05T07:25:00.001-07:00

George Bernard Shaw said that England and America are two nations separated by one language (namely, English). So also, Andhra and Telangana will be, when the separate state is formed, two states separated by one language (Telugu). In the past, the sons of the soil, that is, Telangana people, used to speak in a rather unnatural (to them) language, out of deference to the people from Andhra. Andhra Telugu is full of polite expressions: for instance, if you don’t know a person well, and he is about your age, it is customary in Andhra to use the expression ‘meeru’ (plural of ‘you’), whereas, the people of Hyderabad and Telangana in general say ‘nuvvu’ (singular ‘you’). For long, in interactions with the people of Andhra, the Telangana people would use ‘meeru’ and such polite words.

Of late, however, the Telangana people have started asserting their language – or their dialect, irrespective of who they are talking to. I had a shock when I went to the grocer where we used to by our monthly supplies. I was away from Hyderabad for several years and the store owner had seen me after a long time. He asked me, without thinking twice, “Eppudochinav?” (When did (singular) you come?) I was awfully hurt and told him off. I said I use the plural you always, and what do you mean by using the singular. He obviously did not realize that he had taken to speaking in his ‘native dialect’ to an Andhra person. I could not reconcile with the insulting tone, although I do realize it was only a part of a new wave of awareness and assertiveness in the communication of the Telangana people: I took my custom to another grocer. I want to make amends one of these days and go back to my old grocer, one day, but right now the insult rankles.

Then there was the steward in a bar I used to frequent: one day he came round to take my order and casually said, “Order ichinava” (again, the use of a singular). It should have been: “Order ichinara?” I let it pass, but never visited that bar again. (In time to come, I stopped drinking altogether, not because I was insulted in a bar by the steward but for medical reasons.) The funniest part is, I know that these people are speaking what comes to them naturally. For long they have ‘risen’ above their singular use to the more polite plural use; now they have decided that enough is enough. And yet, I cannot deal with this kind of impolite use of Telugu. That too, when I am using the plural all the time.

What riled me most was a friend of mine, of twenty years, who is a linguist – aware of the nuances of language and culture – addressed me as ‘nuvvu’. I tried my best to get him back to used the plural ‘meeru’ by using it several times in my speech. He was at least responsive and during the course of a 15 minute talk, came back to the good old days when we used to address each other as “meeru”. I don’t have the enthusiasm to meet him again or continue our friendship. Of all the people he should have been aware of the subtleties of language – being an Assistant Professor at the English and Foreing Languages University. (This was earlier called the Central Institute of English and Foreign Languages, where Prof. Jayashankar, the TRS ideologue was a registrar.)

What are the Andhra people to do in this situation? Do as the Telangana people, use ‘impolite’ expressions (like the singular you - nuvvu) – like, pay back in the same coin and thereby give up the niceties of their dialect. Or keep using the polite, plurals in the face of ‘insulting’ speech, and somehow try to win over the local people?

Needless to say, this is only a symptom of an accommodating Telangana culture becoming partisan. There are hard core issues to be sorted out, but the heart of the matter is that Telangana people have become more aggressive and unduly impolite.

Happy Birthday Shabz! Who’s Kitty?

2010-09-28T06:45:00.000-07:00

One of my nephews looked at my social networking page, www.ryze.com/go/shankR and asked me who is Kitty. I was addressing my ‘blogs’ to Kitty, following Anne Frank. Well, Kitty is the cat that Anne Frank kept as a pet and a friend; she addressed her ‘blogs’ to Kitty. The Diary of a Young Girl is a book of the writings from the Dutch language diary kept by Anne Frank while she was in hiding for two years with her family during the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands. The family was apprehended in 1944 and Anne Frank ultimately died of typhus in the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp. After the war, the diary was retrieved by Anne's father, Otto Frank, the only survivor of the family. The diary has now been published in more than 60 different languages.

Anne Frank's diary is among the most enduring documents of the 20th century. She documented her life in hiding from 12 June 1942 to 1 August 1944. Initially, she wrote it strictly for herself. Then, one day in 1944, Gerrit Bolkestein, a member of the Dutch government in exile, announced in a radio broadcast from London that after the war he hoped to collect eyewitness accounts of the suffering of the Dutch people under the German occupation, which could be made available to the public. As an example, he specifically mentioned letters and diaries. Anne Frank decided that when the war was over she would publish a book based on her diary. Because she did not survive the war, it fell instead to her father to see her diary published.

Happy Birthday Shabz

Shabz was born 27 Sept. I should not mention the year. Shabz is a Tamil girl, follower of Islam, engineer by training, expert in English and a writer by profession, lives in Bangalore, though not in the flat she owns in Kanakapura, rides a scooter (she says I am driving my bike, though – that is the only Indianism I have found her using). She is my rakhi sister (see an earlier blog called rakhi sisters and cousin brothers – or some such), although she never tied the rakhi on my hand. She practices yoga and prays 5 times and fasts during the ramzan. [A piece of gratuitous information: In Muslim communities, people are reminded of the daily prayer times through the calling of the azhan. For those in Muslim-minority communities, computerized azhan programs are available. Thank God our Muslim brothers and sisters don’t take recourse to computerized azhan programs.] In her I find the uniqueness of India – a religious faith that does not interfere with one’s geopolitical and cultural context. May her tribe grow.

Interestingly, Shirdi Sai Baba was also born on 27th Septemer (See for a Greater Common God, in these blogs). We don’t know the year.

I was surprised to learn that in Pakistan the classical music tradition is Hindustani. Wah Ustad!

I am now on facebook

I have resisted the facebook mania for a long time and today Manish sent me an invite to view his pictures on it. I said what the heck, and went on to put some pictures of myself out there; I have no clue as to how to go to other people’s pages and view their photos – if you have any ideas, mail me. If you are already on facebook, you can see a few of my pictures. The pictures are brought to you courtesy Ukko Hanninen, a good friend in Helsinki. About him, another day, another blog.
I once saw a cartoon in which a dog is in front of the computer and is saying: On the internet, nobody knows that you are a pet. Alas, that situation no longer obtains.

Ten Days On the Wagon And Counting…

It is early days yet, but I am happy to report that I have been on the wagon for 10 days now. The expression ‘on the wagon’ has an interesting origin: Water wagons were a commonplace sight in US cities at the time. They didn't carry drinking water but were used to damp down dusty streets during dry weather. Those who had vowed to give up drink and were tempted to lapse said that they would drink from the water-cart rather than take strong drink. Getting off the wagon means to lapse into drinking after an attempt to stop drinking. I hope I would never get off the wagon.
Wish me good luck and do what you can to keep me in good spirits, lest I lapse.

2010-09-28T06:29:00.000-07:00

Worst Fears; Table Cases; Ayodhya Verdict…

Reality is a strange thing. While things often don’t turn out to our liking, disappointments are the order of the day, and our optimistic outlook doesn’t pan out, it is also true at the same time that our worst fears don’t come true either. Take the Gaulles in Asterix comics, for instance: their worst fear is that the sky will fall on their heads. That doesn’t happen to them or to any of us.

The past one week I was in the grip of some worst fears, and I was dreading a meeting with my boss: as it turned out, the meeting went without any fireworks and it was actually an agreeable sort of a meeting. Without getting into the inconsequential details, let me just say that what I feared most, what anybody in any corporate fears most, did not happen.

Table Cases

Vijayawada is in the news for all the wrong reasons once again. If it not floods then it is bloodshed and arson that gets Vijayawada in the news. With the exception of course – of the annual commotion at the Kanakadurga temple. But that is not news: it is an annual occurrence, with devotees thronging the place in more and more numbers year on year, which is only to be expected with increase in population. Now Vijayawada is in the news for a brutal killing.

Yesterday’s murder of Chalasani Venkateswara Rao (Pandu) took place in Hyderabad but the backdrop of it is Vijayawada’s faction feuds. The victim, Pandu, himself is accused in many murder cases – those who live by the sword die by the sword. A soft skills trainer once told us of his friend who was in politics; this friend of his had an interesting description for the breed – Table Cases (people who end up on the post mortem table).

Ayodhya Verdict

The stay on the high court verdict on the Ayodhya dispute is lifted and it is expected to be released on 30th Sept, 2010. The sooner the judgment comes out, the better. The important thing for the leaders of both communities now is to respect the verdict of the court, and appeal in the Supreme Court if they wish. The law should be allowed to take its course. There are indications that the verdict will be in favor of the Hindu community; so be it. It is actually a good thing because Muslim leaders like Mr Asaduddin Owaisi have already committed not to raise cain in the streets, and approach the Supreme Court.

Even if it goes in favor of the Muslims, one would hope the Hindu community leaders would have the sanity to settle the matter within the legal framework, and not take to the streets. Everyone in India wants that the BJP and VHP don’t make a big fuss over this issue; there is already a sense of fatigue over the way they have tried to garner votes on this issue. Indeed, other than the Ayodhya issue, there is no difference between the Congress and the BJP in economic and policy issues. That is why the party with a difference tries to keep the noise levels high.

Counting my blessings

Two pairs of shoes (though one needs repair); father in heaven and mother under the roof watching over me; loving sisters – 3 numbers and brothers – 4 numbers; a job without stress, though not well paying; presence on the face book; space on blogspot (9 followers and counting); laptop with an external keyboard, and a pen drive; ten days on the wagon and all set for a life-long ride.

Life in C minor

Like a colourless flower, the woodrose
Like flat beer that doesn’t rise up in froth
Like an empty stadium when two B-teams are playing
Life, like a song in C minor

Like a friendship that hasn’t grown sour but distant
Like a meager bowl of lukewarm soup
Like a sky that thunders but does not rain
Life, like a tune in C minor

I Will Show You Fear In A Handful Of Dust

2010-09-26T04:08:00.000-07:00

Remembering T S Eliot

This day, the 26th of September, in 1888, T S Eliot was born. Let us celebrate it with a few excerpts and comments: first, The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock. This was the poem that launched him into the modernist poety movement. An excerpt:

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

The crux of the poem – called Prufrock for short – lies in the reference to Prince Hamlet, the tragic hero of Shakespeare’s drama, Hamlet, Prince of Denmark. Shakespeare’s Hamlet has been interpreted by modern critics as a character who foreshadows modern man’s moral dilemmas (“To be or not to be…”) Here, Prufrock says he is not such an important character, but merely an attendant, or may be a Fool (the court jester).

The famous line: “I have measured out my life with coffee spoon” is also in this famous poem.

His most famous work, The Waste Land, details the journey of the human soul searching for redemption. The Waste Land is known not only for its probing subject matter but also its radical departure from traditional poetic style and structure incorporating historical and literary allusions as well as unconventional use of language. Some excerpts:

There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust

[The burial of the dead]

Evelyn Waugh took the expression Handful of Dust as the title of his novel, and quotes these lines in the epigram. Another excerpt from this classic poem:

When Lil's husband got demobbed, I said—
I didn't mince my words, I said to her myself,
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME
Now Albert's coming back, make yourself a bit smart.
He'll want to know what you done with that money he gave you
To get yourself some teeth.
He did, I was there.
You have them all out, Lil, and get a nice set,
He said, I swear, I can't bear to look at you.
And no more can't I, I said, and think of poor Albert,
He's been in the army four years, he wants a good time,
And if you don't give it him, there's others will, I said.
[A Game of Chess]

And here is one of the few rhyming lines in Wasteland:

O the moon shone bright on Mrs. Porter
And on her daughter
They wash their feet in soda water
Et, O ces voix d'enfants, chantant dans la coupole!

[The Fire Sermon]

And a reference to ancient Indian texts:

Then spoke the thunder
D A
Datta*: what have we given?
My friend, blood shaking my heart
The awful daring of a moment's surrender
Which an age of prudence can never retract
By this, and this only, we have existed
Which is not to be found in our obituaries
Or in memories draped by the beneficent spider
Or under seals broken by the lean solicitor
In our empty rooms

[What the Thunder Said]

T S Eliot’s mentor, Ezra Pound, was influenced by Chinese/Confucian philosophy. Pound called Eliot Old Possum, for reasons best know to the two of them.

*Datta: What have we given?
We, Indians, have given a lot to the world, not among the least of which is Naren Datta, aka Swami Vivekananda - see the other blog of the day.

The First 9/11 Explosion In The USA, 1893

2010-09-25T06:15:00.000-07:00

The first 9/11 explosion occurred in Chicago in 1893 when Swami Vivekananda addressed the World Congress of Religions and opened his address with "Sisters and brothers of America”. He got a standing ovation from a crowd of seven thousand, which lasted for two minutes. The explosion has had reverberations over a century and more; the most recent celebrity convert to Hinduism is Julia Roberts. However, one doesn’t convert to Hinduism, one goes on following one’s path and realizes that it is one of the many paths. You are unique, just like everyone else: that is the essence of Hinduism. Be that as it may, the New York Herald wrote, after Swamiji’s address, "Vivekananda is undoubtedly the greatest figure in the Parliament of Religions. After hearing him we feel how foolish it is to send missionaries to this learned nation."

During his brief address, he declared to be proud to belong to a religion which taught the world tolerance and universal acceptance. He stated that “We believe not only in universal toleration, but we accept all religions as true.” So Julia Roberts can go on being a Christian if she was one and she would still qualify to be a Hindu. There is nothing new you do, except go on loving other humans and being charitable to all of God’s creation – to be a Hindu. One doesn’t need to wear saffron or the vermillion mark on the forehead.

Swami Vivekananda addressed the World Congress of Religions a dozen times in the two weeks it was in session, the last time on 27th September.
Unfortunately in India, intellectuals of all shapes and shades urge us to shun religion (read: Hinduism). There are indeed many evil practices, like Sati, dowry, caste system; but these are not the essence of Hinduism. Hinduism is about serving the nara-narayana, the God residing in other humans. This principle is missed by the God’s own party which proclaims that they are true adherents of the Swami’s philosophy. They ended up in a mess of religious bigotry, while claiming that they are the torch bearers of Hindutva. Just as one doesn’t judge Islam by the 9/11 suicide bombers, one should not judge hindutva by the perpetrators of the post Godhra hate campaign.

Bala Gangadhar Tilak said: "Vivekananda saved Hinduism, saved India." Subhash Chandra Bose said: “I cannot write about Vivekananda without going into raptures. Few indeed could comprehend or fathom him even among those who had the privilege of becoming intimate with him. His personality was rich, profound and complex... Reckless in his sacrifice, unceasing in his activity, boundless in his love, profound and versatile in his wisdom, exuberant in his emotions, merciless in his attacks but yet simple as a child, he was a rare personality in this world of ours.”
Rabindranath Tagore, the poet told Romain Rolland: "if you want to know India, read Vivekananda, in him everything is positive and nothing is negative." The great electrical engineer, Nikola Tesla, after listening to Vivekananda's speech on Sankhya Philosophy, was much interested in its cosmogony and its rational theories of the Kalpas (cycles), Prana and Akasha. His notion based on the Vedanta led him to think that matter is a manifestation of energy. After attending a lecture on Vedanta by Vivekananda, Tesla also concluded that modern science can look for the solution of cosmological problems in Sankhya philosophy, and he could prove that mass can be reduced to potential energy mathematically.

On Science, the Swami said: “Science is nothing but the finding of unity. As soon as science would reach perfect unity, it would stop from further progress, because it would reach the goal. Thus Chemistry could not progress farther when it would discover one element out of which all other could be made. Physics would stop when it would be able to fulfill its services in discovering one energy of which all others are but manifestations ...

“All science is bound to come to this conclusion in the long run. Manifestation, and not creation, is the word of science today, and the Hindu is only glad that what he has been cherishing in his bosom for ages is going to be taught in more forcible language, and with further light from the latest conclusions of science.”

Most of this is sourced from the internet; but what I can say from my own heart is this: I cannot read a few lines of Swami Vivekananda’s teaching without my hair standing on end and my eyes getting moist. He is the ubermench. One wonders what would have happened if he came face to face with Friedrich Nietzsche, who said: “A casual stroll through the lunatic asylum shows that faith does not prove anything”.

Nietzsche held religious people in great contempt: “After coming into contact with a religious man I always feel I must wash my hands.” Alas, we never would know what Nietzsche would have done after coming into contact with Swami Vivekananda, if he ever did.

Interestingly, Swami Vivekananda died on American independence day – July 4th, 1902.

The Power of Positive Text Messages: Ali in Diwali – Ram in Ramzan

2010-09-23T23:40:00.000-07:00

Usually, a lot of jokes are traded on SMS. The right word for it is of course ‘text’ or ‘text message’. Sometimes, malicious messages are perpetrated – to flare up communal passions: these messages talk of some hundred people of one community being killed by another community. There is little truth in them; but some people are easily affected by the written word, even if it is as ephemeral as a text message. On the other hand, there are positive messages that try to build unity and a sense of brotherhood (well, sisterhood) among people. Nivedita sent me one such: “Who is a Hindu? Who is a Muslim? There is Ali in Diwali and Ram in Ramzan. We are all one. Send this message to all your friends on the eve of 24 September 2010.”

Well, the judgment is now postponed by a week. More power to the positive vibes that will surely be generated by the text message, which I hope reaches the vast millions of mobile users. For my bit, I wanted to put it up on this blog and urge all of you to share this lovely message with everyone on your social networks. Obviously, it is a rather childish play on words, but then it delivers a powerful message and creates positive vibes. The courts have banned bulk sending of text messages, but this message should be put up on a ticker on all major cable channels.

As I was waiting for my ‘motor bike driver’ who brings me to this office out of which I work, I saw a ‘muslim’ boy (I put that in quotes for reasons that will become clear presently) with bowl of coals and incense in his bag. He would go to the cash till of the shops and put some incense in the bowl, and blow the smoke in the direction of the till. The shopkeepers give him a small sum. I don’t know about other parts of India but this is a common occurrence in Andhra Pradesh. The shopkeepers are all kinds, by religion, but Indian in essence. The boy is an Indian, a Hyderabadi, and a muslim – in that order. In one rare case, in the auto I was riding, I saw the auto driver wave this incense-boy away. That never used to happen in the past: fault lines are beginning to occur in our age old traditions.

Vivekananda said that throwing religion out of the window is not the solution for the problems we are facing. We are not following what is set down in the religious code (al qaida) in spirit and letter. All religions teach us to be humane; to give shelter to the homeless, to give food to the hungry, to give solace to the desperate. Do we, as Hindus, as Muslims, as Christians, follow any of this in spirit? Do we care for the people sleeping on empty stomach by the roadside. Do we care for those who set up leper colonies in the midst of the city, by the side of a hospital or railway station? We don’t. But we talk glibly about religion being the stumbling block to progress. We need to focus on material progress but it has to be tempered with spirituality; otherwise we cannot call ourselves human.

America has a hard core Bible belt (similar to the cow belt in India). Did it stop the progress of the U.S. A. to the position of the only super power? The banks in Pakistan don’t pay an interest on the savings accounts; many middle class people believe (and rightly so) that it is against Islam to collect interest. I don’t know what the investment bankers do, but ordinary people don’t want interest. Did this stop the progress of Pakistan to become a nuclear power? Come on, keep aside the jingoism and anti-paki feelings we all have: Pakistan is a powerful nation, a force to reckon with in Asia. Imagine a world where India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh join forces and not fight one another. The world better watch out!

But back to text messages: there is one that Vasant sent me. “Whiskey mein base Vishnu; rum mein base ram; gin me hain Janki aur beer mein hain veer hanuman – ab kya pioon main?” This is not really a positive text message, it is more of a joke. Still, it is not malicious; no one is making fun of the Hindu Gods. A really God-loving person will stop drinking all these and stick to champagne.

However, a malicious message would be like this: “Holi has a Hole in it; Ramzan has rum; and X-mas is X-rated. All religions should be thrown out the window.” (no one sent me this one; I cooked it up. Please don’t spread this). This kind of a message would only create negative vibes and has to be suppressed.

the arcane world of manual labour...

2010-09-22T05:15:00.000-07:00

How to Withdraw Cash from an ATM

It is so simple, right? You insert the card and do what the machine tells you to do. But there are intricacies if you are writing instructions for someone how to withdraw cash from an ATM. Firstly, where do you insert the card? There is slot on which it is written “Insert your card here”. By the way, what card do you insert? It could be your ATM/debit card or a credit card. Then you choose the language for the transaction (we say, oh, obviously English: but there could be a money-bag who has piles of cash but does not know English.) And so the story goes on… You could fill 4 pages before you come to “Collect your cash.’

I am talking of an arcane discipline called technical writing here: a technical writer has to look at a procedure from all angles – error conditions, the systems prompts from time to time, and so on. Many people think that any idiot can write these instructions; but it requires a special kind of idiot. One who thinks how things could go wrong at various points in a workflow. Take the case of an ATM. Sometimes, there is a notice saying that it is not working. But you can still insert your card, and at some point in the transaction, the machine tells you it cannot dispense cash – that is, after you have entered the pin, amount, chosen the account type and all that hype.

This essay is occasioned by a written test I had to take for a job as a technical writer: they said don’t make it more that 4 pages. Being a seasoned technical writer, even I thought initially, why it should take so long, but in the end I did end up using the upper limit to the document. There are a lot of job opportunities in the technical writing field: I recommend that for anyone with a flair for the language and an aptitude for technology. It is quite lucrative: it sometimes pays on par with software development.

Old hands in technical writing joke that it is a kind of 'manual labour' because it involves writing manuals!

Run up to Ganesh Nimajjan (Immersion)

Some Ganesha festival committees complete their puja a few days before the big Nimajjan day – which this time happens to be the 22nd of September. It has to do with Police permissions and that kind of bureaucratic hoopla. The Ganesh down the street was moved last night with huge fanfare. They started the drums and procession at 10.30 pm and at 12.30 am, it was still at the other end of the street. Late at night, some revelers came back with less of music but sufficiently ecstatic.

This season has been peaceful. In the good old days, there used to be riots and all associated with the Ganesh pandals. The police are alert, they are better equipped, and they rounded up people whom they suspect might create trouble. The specialty this time around was some old and middle-aged women dancing away to glory in front of the truck on which the idol was being carried. I haven’t seen this before, although for several years now, I have been outside Hyderabad during the Nimajjan season. Sighted among them was on big fat young lady.

When asked why don’t you carry on quickly, the ‘organizers’ of the procession said: sir, it’s only once a year.

Oedipus Complex, Electra Complex, and Sundry Cerebral Aberrations

2010-09-12T02:55:00.000-07:00

It is unfortunate that the Oedipus is associated with a certain kind of obsession with one’s mother: poor Oedipus did not know that it was his biological mother whom he married. However, it would not have happened if he considered the age of the woman he was marrying: in India, given that the woman is older, such a situation would not have arisen. Then there is the misnomer: Electra complex.

It is more likely that Agamemnon had a thing for his daughter Electra; that is the way of the world. Does a young girl have ‘feelings’ for an old man? I doubt it. Even if she has, she would learn to sublimate those feelings over time and free herself of the force of attraction for a father or a fatherly figure. It is more likely to call a ‘thing’ between the father and his little girl of a complex the Agamemnon complex.

Harold Robbins: Are you afraid of the dark?

“Are you afraid of the dark” is a simple story of a girl who gets molested by her father as a child, and becomes a serial killer. She has a multiple personality disorder – schizophrenia in conventional lingo. However, she is extremely skillful. Once she commits a murder, she covers her tracks and moves on to the other coast for another escapade. She is kind to her victims in that she lets them have ‘fun’ one last time before finishing them off. Ironically, at the end the novel, she goes on to another adventure, with a song on her lips.

There are many fathers in India too, who ‘misbehave’ with their daughters, but go scot free. The daughters don’t turn out to be serial killers, though. Indeed there are no serial killers in India. There seems to be a hell of lot of difference between U.S. and us. And thank God for that!

Akashamanta: Trisha and Prakash Raj…

There is a Telugu movie, “Akashamanta” (as big as the sky) in which Prakash Raj (Prakash Rai for those in Karnataka) has a beautiful daughter (Trisha). She goes to Delhi for studies and returns with a Sikh boy whom she loves. Now, Raj has some reservations about giving his daughter away to someone outside the community; to someone so far away from the town where he lives. And mainly, although it is not made explicit in the movie – it is about giving away his daughter in marriage at all. Does it mean he has a thing for her? No, not according to the script and screenplay.

But the kind of discomfiture he displays when she is hugging and kissing young Jogi (the boy she brings from Delhi) makes one wonder what exactly his feelings are towards his daughter. It is a superb performance from Prakash Raj-Rai: hats off to him. He brings something to the table which was not scripted. He leaves a lot to our imagination (and goes beyond the ‘script’). He cannot digest the idea of his ‘little girl’ in another man’s embrace. Fathers who cannot digest such thoughts should shun all such thoughts. It is not impossible; meditation can help, if not medication.
I should have been a pair of ragged claws

One of my uncles (the husband of an aunt) used to work in the medals section of the Electrical and Mechanical Engineering division of Indian Army. Some times I wish I had become a typist in some government organization, like the army, or in a bank. I once in fact appeared for an interview for the position of a clerk-cum-typist but failed in the typing test. Be that as it may, my point is that intellectual work doesn’t interest me any more; if it did, I would have been ungainfully employed in some university teaching uninspiring literary works to disinterested students.

This obsession with ‘manual’ work took shape (root) in me over the years as a technical writer. There is nothing exciting about the job of a software manual writer – it is as tedious as manual labor. In fact, my friends in software development and quality assurance used to complain about the lack of creativity in their jobs: they used to feel that they have prostituted their skills (that they acquired during their days in the engineering colleges). Then consider how I should feel, having studied literature, writing instructions like: “press this, or that, or both”.

In call centers too, there are people doing tedious jobs, assuming ‘Christian’ names and personas – answering angry, rude callers from around the world. But somehow there is a kind of aura associated with those jobs. They seem to throng the pubs, and are driven around in fast ‘jeeps’ (Toyota Qualis or Tata Sumo). Some of them ride fancy bikes. The boys and girls mix freely, the girls smoke and drink, and it is assumed that they rock and roll a good deal.

Congress Loyalists Have A License To Mint Money

2010-09-12T02:54:00.000-07:00

Mrs Sonia Gandhi said in so many words that Dr Y S Rajasekhara Reddy was minting money – by foul means than fair – during his term in office; but he remained loyal to the party, and so she allowed him to go on. Indeed, he made him CM for a second term, in contravention of the precedence of making the Pradesh Congress Committee chief the CM. That the Congress is a corrupt party is a well-known fact: Mr Rajiv Gandhi himself bemoaned the state of affairs at the centenary celebration of the party in 89 or so – saying that it has become the shelter for power-brokers and wheelers and dealers.

Mrs Sonia Gandhi seems to have resigned herself to the fate of overseeing a corrupt-to-the-core Congress party, and getting a semblance of order into the affairs. She is also in the unenviable position of not having the mass appeal such as her late mother-in-law, or even the charisma of her late husband. She is handicapped by limited knowledge of Hindi, which is all important in Indian politics. She has the tag of a ‘foreigner’ attached, and to the middle class India, it conjures up an image of colonial rule. Except for her illustrious surname (and some family cash resources), she has nothing much going in her favor.

Mr Jaganmohan Reddy knows this fully well. He thought he could ‘blackmail’ her in terms of raking up a sympathy wave (as did Mr Rajiv Gandhi) and forcing her ‘hand’ to make him the CM. The mistake he did was to agree to Mr K Rosaiah’s name in the wake of his father’s death: he thought it was only a temporary arrangement, and that he would be anointed sooner than later. He got desperate when it appeared that Mr Rosaiah was well entrenched in the CM’s gaddi. That was when he made his first wrong move, and the costliest wrong move – in a series of suicidal moves: defying the party high command and proceeding with the second leg of his Odarpu Yatra (consolation tour).

Now, as long as you remain loyal to the party (=high command) you can go scot free with any number of misdeeds: all will be forgiven, except defiance. For one thing, Jagan is a young man in a hurry. And then again, he is not sure of what will be the outcome of the 2014 elections – there is the T-issue, there is Chiru looming large, and many imponderables. He had to act, and act now. It was a catch 22 situation for him: damned if he acts, damned if he don’t.

The high command responded with an invite to Chiranjivi to 10 Janpath: Chiru took the cue and played along. He knows full well that in the long term, a Congress party sans Jagan puts the political calculations in his favor, whether or not he enters into an alliance with the Congress. That is the story thus far.

What is going to unfold in the near to mid term?

Jagan is going to run out of steam; he is not going to be expelled from the party. He cannot topple the government (if he could, he would have done that long ago). Launching his own party at this juncture is pointless, because there will be no elections until 2014.

Speculation that he will join the BJP is all nonsense: what has he to gain from such a move? Precious nothing. The BJP’s 4 percent vote share in the state will not equal the muslim votes Jagan is going to lose if he joins hands with them. Then again, he will not be crowned king in that party.

The speculation arises from the thinking that the Gali brothers are a kind of bridge between Jagan and BJP. True, but the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) bosses are not happy about the influence the Gali brothers have on the party in Karnataka – and with Ms Sushma Swaraj at the center.

In the near term, nothing is going to happen; in the medium term – a new CM (from Telangana) will be named: it could be Dr J Geetha Reddy.

Ganesh And Grain Drain; Id Ul Fitr…

2010-09-12T02:51:00.000-07:00

As children, we used to throw ‘undrallu’ (boiled rice floor balls) on to huts and thatched roofs, because there will be mice (there were rats or mice on our tiled roof as well). As you know, Lord Ganesha’s mount is the mouse. We used to believe that Lord Ganesha would be propitiated if his ‘mount’ is fed with undrallu. It boils one’s blood that food grains are rotting in this country, where, according to www.thehungersite.com, three people die of nutrition deficiency every minute. The Supreme Court asked the government to do something about the situation – like distributing food grains free. Food grains which are otherwise rotting for lack of adequate storage arrangements.

The god-awful government gives two hundred rupees subsidy on cooking gas, to all and sundry; in the process screwing up the bottomline of public sector oil companies. However, it feels that economic principles will be affected adversely if free food is distributed to the poor. Dr Manmohan Singh also told the Supreme Court for good measure not to interfere in policy matters. The policy of this country is dictated by a woman of foreign origins, and we cannot dictate terms to the high priestess.

As I write this, there is a Big Fight on television; someone just pointed out that in the one hour that the battle is on (on television), 171 children would have died of hunger; two farmers would have committed suicide, God knows for what reason. There are seven more (according to the calculation that three per minute deaths occur due to hunger and malnutrition), who go unnoticed by caste-based census! There is food rotting in – actually outside – the storage facilities, and people dying on the streets. And the good doctor Manmohan Singh says: “Let them eat cake!” The rats and bandicoots are not complaining. Lord Ganesha will be happy with this situation too, perhaps. And the middle class, of which I am a proud member, will go back to sleep – having agreed with the vociferous appeals of those on television to stop hunger deaths, for at least as long as there is surplus grain.

I go to www.thehungersite.com once in a while and ‘donate’ a cup of rice: all it takes is to click the button that says donate a cup of rice. And my job done as a columnist, I go back to sleep – having feasted on Undrallu…

Id Ul Fitr and Ganesh Utsav on the same day

It is a double dhamaka for Hyderabad (and other parts of the country): Ramzan and Ganesh utsav on the same day. The good news is, there is no news of communal rioting as of this writing. I did not do the puja properly this year but I think Lord Ganesh would understand. It is actually about Id Ul Fitr that I wanted to write about today…

It was the year 1999. I was in Singapore and a friend from Hyderabad used to hang out with me when I had my daily quota of beer. Then we both would eat dinner together, and vend our way home. Then came the month of fasting. I said to Shahad (his pet name, real name – Rafat): “Look brother, you have given me company when I was drinking although you were not drinking; I will give you company in your fasting, though I am not a Muslim”.
However, I made some modifications to my ‘roza’, namely, not eating in the morning before the first prayer (too lazy to get up at that hour); having coffee and cigarettes during the day (and of course water); and swallowing the salivation. But, I was steadfast in not drinking during the whole month, and eating only in the evenings. The millennium thingie happened that year during the month of ramzan. And Rafat and I were probably the two young people who did not get drunk the night of December 31, 2000. Indeed, after the month of ramzan I continued with my abstinence for another six months. That is the longest dry patch in the past one decade and more.

Suffice it to say that faith moves mountains. Commitment, integrity, and such things are not taught: they come out of oneself – one either has them, in which case they will be manifest at one point or another. Or, one doesn’t have them. Unfortunately, my abstinence lasted only for 6 months. I made the mistake of getting onto an Indian Airlines flight to Hyderabad after that, and the air-hostess ‘auntie’ threw three cans of beer at me; that is where I lost my balance.

Yes, another important thing is balance: it is easy to shoot past the mark; but it is difficult to stand firm in the middle.

Sherlock Holmes and the Silent Dog

2010-09-09T04:12:00.000-07:00

Like many of the adventures of Sherlock Holmes, there is one involving a murder investigation. Holmes and Watson go to visit the site of murder. When they get back to their Baker Street residence, Holmes asks Watson: "Did you notice the dog at the house of murder, Watson?" Watson answers in the affirmative. "Did you notice anything strange in its behavior?" asks Holmes further. Watson replies: "Nothing strange. It was lying in a corner silently." Holmes thumps the table at it: "That is exactly what I mean. There is a murder in the house, and the dog is not making a lot of ruckus, which it should be doing under normal circumstances." And he goes on to suggest that the landlord of the house is the suspect (and that is why the dog takes it to be business as usual); it turns out in the end that the landlord is indeed the culprit.

Sorry to have taken such a long time to come to the point - There is nothing about Mr Y S Jaganmohan Reddy in the Principal Opposition Paper (POP) or on the popular television channels today. What is wrong with that, you might wonder. According to these papers and channels, and according to their sources, action would be taken against Jagan in the first week of September - we are well nigh the end of the first week, and no such thing is coming forth. Except for causing the death of a couple of more 'fans', the Odarpu hasn't achieved anything so far.
I speculated earlier that criminal proceeding would be taken against those involved in mining and other irregularities. The APIIC boss today said in so many words that those responsible for the 'Emmar kumbhakonam' will not be spared and even criminal action will be initiated as per the report of the investigation committee. Mr Ambati can start looking for a good trial lawyer, and be mentally prepared to eat chippa koodu.

You heard it before - I mean, read it before - in this column that no action will be taken against Jagan, in terms of expelling him from the party. If his fingerprints are found on any of these scams, the action will be criminal cases and not some shim-sham show-cause notice. Even now his camp followers are in the illusion that the Congress high command does not dare take action against them or their leader. The fact is that the high command does not care to take action. They say that digging into the irregularities of the past regime is 'harassment': well they are behaving like the thief who groped his shoulder when someone asked "who is the pumpkin thief". Already a petition in the high court filed by someone not related to the scam was dismissed, and he was roundly asked - why are you interested in this case?

There was some talk of the Gali brothers coming to bail Jagan out: it was rumored that they would even buy out MPs at the center and topple the Congress government. The Nehru-Gandhi dynasty is the biggest shindig when it comes to horse-trading, as we have seen in the case of the nuke deal with America and how the UPA sarkar got the bill through. Nobody can buy out Congress MPs: there is plenty of money with the Congress and there is the 'abhaya hastam' of the high command. And then there is the brand equity of the very name Gandhi. (Unfortunately, Maneka Gandhi and Feroze Varun could not get any dividends out of their illustrious surnames.)
What is going to happen in the near term?

A Telangana leader will be named CM - possibly Dr J Geetha Reddy. The Srikrishna commission report will be referred to a joint parliamentary committee. Negotiations will be opened with the Telangana Rashtra Samiti (TRS) on the modalities of state formation. It will be made known that Telangana is going to be created. Even a time-frame for the creation of T-state may be announced. This could pave the way for a TRS-Congress tie-up in the future elections (failing which the TRS would jump into bed with the BJP). However, that is in the long term.

So what do we have in store in the long term?

I have been keeping my political comments to Andhra Pradesh, because I really don't have a grasp of politics at the national level. But I will venture a few big picture speculations today. The Congress could romp home to victory in the parliamentary elections in 2014, in alliance with TRS in Telangana; and with the Praja Rajyam Party (PRP) in the rest of Andhra. It should do well in Karnataka, Maharashtra, West Bengal, Orissa, and overall maintain an edge over the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). They just need to rein in the likes of Mr P Chidambaram, who are helping the saffron cause, as did Mr P V Narasimharao in the 1990s.

The BJP is good as an opposition party: it is right of center in economics, which is good for the country. It will retain its stature as the main opposition party and leave the left parties behind. Leftist economics are really outdated. It will be a much more diminished left presence in the next Loksabha.

Jagan will go back to Bangalore and get into some call center job (or real estate dhanda). I mean, he will go to the boondocks.

The Color Of Terror Is Red…

2010-09-03T05:33:00.000-07:00

Hunger, anger, angst and insecurity and many other feelings may cause people to resort to violence and terrorist acts. There is disinheritance, depravity, loss of land and life and limb, and the list goes on. However, the color of terror is red, as also of all these feelings. Red also indicates danger: Giving it the color of saffron is nothing short of fool-hardiness, which is exactly what the Union Home Minister Mr P Chidambaram has done. In spite of opposition from his own party, he stood by his guns and said that he was trying to get across a point and that he effectively did that. What was the point he was trying to get across?

That terrorists who happen to be Hindus by birth can be called saffron terrorists but terrorists of other persuasions cannot be identified with their religion. That we have to soft-pedal that kind of terrorism with names like ‘jihadi’ (which is a very fine word indeed – meaning ‘dharam yudh’) or cross-border terrorism? Jihad means fight against evil: in the context of India, it is directed against the sovereign state of India, which presumably is the evil. Our neighbor is sponsoring them. No matter the people of that country are not up in arms against India: but we cannot strike out peace with candle-lit dinners, while the powers that be in that country are sending terrorists by the hundreds across the border. And these jihadis are ably abetted by people of a particular group – whether you like it or not. The conspiracy of silence involved in stating that support for what it is – is overlooked by the Indian Outlook. On the other hand, you have the Vinod Mehtas of the world who have candle-vigils for the unholy neighbors. We are at war with Pakistan civilian peace-keepers can’t alleviate the situation. On the other hand, these secularists are driving moderates into the militant Hindu fold.

What is cross border about the D Company operatives: they are well within the borders, alive and kicking. The fact that Dawood Ibrahim himself lives in style in Karachi or Dubai doesn’t make the terror acts he promotes cross-border terrorism. Calling the terrorist acts of people from a particular community ‘jihadi’ terror is actually giving it a legitimacy it does not deserve. It is not my case that these terrorists belong to any religion; their religion doesn’t sanction violence against innocents. So, in giving a particular brand of terrorism ‘saffron’, Mr P Chidambaram is in fact pointing at other acts of terror and is leaving people to think of what color that is! Is that the point he was trying to get across?

What did this government do to have Dawood extradited? What did the NDA regime (led by the Bharatiya Janata Party) do to get him extradited? Precious little. Out of the government the BPP cries hoarse about minority appeasement, about Warren Anderson’s escape; when it was in government – it did nothing about it. And who is watching the fun from the side wings when the saffron brigade and the cross border armies are sledging it out in the middle? That’s white mischief for you.

The way to economic development…

the noble economix doctor bhagwati,
and swami and friends tell us

that the 20 points are old, all dotty
the trick is to model ourself more on U.S.

Let us teach them (over time)
Let us reach them (by road)

What if some fall by the way side, waiting
That means fewer masses to uplift

Let us teach them to fish, by hook or crook or baiting
Let everyone of us get rich – some first, get rich quick

But all in good time.

My Life Is An Open Book Which Nobody Wants To Read

2010-09-01T06:26:00.000-07:00

I have been writing these blogs (column – if you are reading Trust News) for nearly 3 months. I have had a handful of people responding to me; you could count them on your hands. They say they enjoy reading them; some violently disagree with what I say; some correct me where I have gone wrong. I am thankful to those who say nice things about the blogs and even more grateful to those who criticize me: but the kind of response that really hurts me is, “Man, you write so much. It’s really great!” They of course mean it as a compliment, but it hurts. It is saying, in other words, “You got all the time in the world; you don’t have better things to do than blog; and I am not going to waste my time reading the stuff.” But this quote keeps me going….

"Alas for those who never sing,

But die with all their music in them!" … Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr
CM Unwell… Manmohan comes a visiting
The Chief Minister is once again unwell and stayed at home, keeping away from regular business. Mr Danam Nagender, who visited them, gave him a clean bill of health and stated that the CM would inaugurate the statue of the late CM Y S Rajasekhara Reddy tomorrow. Let us hope that Mr K Rosaiah gets well sooner than later and makes himself available for tomorrow’s programme. However, how long can he continue in the CM’s gaddi is a big question, particularly now that the government is facing so many challenges – one from Jagan, and another from the separate Telangana forces.

In the meantime, Dr Manmohan Singh laid the foundation stone for the Mannavaram project and said that it was a tribute to YSR a day before his first death anniversary. The Congress party owns up YSR but not his arrogant son.

Dr Geetha Reddy is summoned to Delhi

At this point, one could only speculate as to why Dr J Geetha Reddy is summoned to New Delhi. It is certain that she would meet the supremo and that she would be given a greater responsibility: it could be the CM’s job itself, given that Mr Rosaiah is not in the pink of his health and is not able to handle the Jagan issue. The high command is forced to take steps to checkmate Jagan, which 10 Janpath is loath to do on a daily basis. Madame Gandhi Jr wants Jagan to be taken care of locally, at the state level. There is a possibility of Dr J Geetha Reddy’s name being circulated as the successor, and putting pressure on Mr K Rosaiah to step down ‘voluntarily’ on account of bad health.

If that is not the case, then surely Dr Geetha Reddy will be the top runner for the Pradesh Congress Committee chief’s post. But the timing of Dr Geetha Reddy’s trip to Delhi makes one believe that it would be the CM-ship. There is no urgency to decide on a new PCC chief now – it is a month away. Bringing about a change in the government is of more urgency, in the light of Jagan’s confrontation in the coming few days. The high command is on game point (set point and match point) in Tennis lingo: making Dr J Geetha Reddy the new CM will be an ace that will settle the match in the high command’s favour. Remember, you have read it here first.

Krishnashtami and sundry Hindu festivals

It is interesting that Krishnashtami is celebrated with such great fanfare, and in public, in the north; it is celebrated at home quietly in the south (at least in Andhra Pradesh and Karnataka). Ganesh Chaturthi is not much of a festival in the north, but it is such a big event in the Maha Rashtra and Andhra (and other southern states). In Hyderabad, of course the biggest festival is Bonalu (there is Ramzan too). Dasara is widely celebrated but it is a huge event in West Bengal. Diwali is a universal festival that is celebrated across the states, perhaps not so much in J & K. People down south haven’t heard of Karva Chauth; in the north, they don’t know what is Onam, which is of course is a big deal in Kerala. There is pongal in the south; rakhi and holi in the north. All kinds of festivals all around the place!
On the other hand, Muslims have their Id-ul-fitr and Ramzan – wherever they are in the world. So also Christians (Christmas and Easter). And so is the case with other religions. It is only among Hindus that we have so many ‘regional festivals’ a la regional parties. If it weren’t for Diwali – Hindus would not have a common thread running across various regions.

Is YSR A Congress Leader Or Jagan’s Father Only?

2010-08-31T06:01:00.000-07:00

First the big story: the Supreme Court decides to reopen the case against Union Carbide – the company responsible for the Bhopal massacre. The charges against the accused may be changed from criminal negligence to culpable homicide; just may… This is good news, but it seems that Warren Anderson is gonna go scot free. And Dow Chemicals will wash its hands off the episode – with scents from Arabia if necessary. Yes, the ‘itr’ from the middle east (and the oil) can wash any stain!

When Tushar Gandhi Was Baffled

There was a show on one of the national channels some time ago (It was a discussion of aam janta with some big shots from media and politics and so on – with Ms Barkha Dutt moderating it). Among the experts, or stars, of the show was Tushar Gandhi – grandson of Mahatma Gandhi. The issue that was debated was the use of Mahatma Gandhi’s name by some U.S. company. There are a lot of ads in the U.S. (on bill boards) issued in public interest which say: Mahatma Gandhi – what did he have? Soul… Pass it on. That kind of stuff is ok, but commercial use of Mahatma Gandhi is not acceptable, to Tushar Gandhi. He said that the company should pay royalty to his kith and kin. One guy in the audience responded to it roundly: “Is Gandhi your grandfather or the father of the nation? If he is your grandfather alone, then he cannot be the father of the nation. If he is, on the other hand, the father of the nation, then the royalty should be shared by all Indians.” This baffled Tushar Gandhi and he retracted his claims.

My Father’s Son…

Mr Y S Jaganmohan Reddy is caught in a similar predicament. If the late lamented Dr Y S Rajasekhar Reddy is his father and his father alone, then he can claim his legacy. On the other hand if YSR is a Congress leader, the entire party has a claim to his legacy. This is precisely what the Congress high command wants him to be clear about right now. All this while, Jagan’s followers said that there is no clear directive from the high command: but 10 Janpath has responded to the poser Just In Time. It is now up to the dirty dozen who are behind Jagan to respond. Do they want to pay homage to YSR as a Congress leader, or as Jagan’s father?

The AICC made it clear that on the occasion of YSR’s first death anniversary, district-wise meetings would be held, where the local MPs and MLAs participate – along with the district Congress presidents, and distribute Rs 100, 000/- to the next of kin of those who committed suicide after YSR’s untimely death. The amount is much higher than what Jagan has been doling out. At the same time, this is an ‘official’ ceremony which no Congressperson can miss. As the MP of Kadapa, Jagan himself is expected to take part in the meeting in Kadapa: that is the Lakshmana Rekha which he cannot cross. And if he does, he will be leaving the party of his own volition.

A brief history of what transpired in the past two months: Jagan meets the supremo with his mother; the boss tells him not to go on the odarpu yatra, that the party itself will conduct meetings. Jagan goes public with the dialog with Madame, and asserts his intent to go ahead with the yatra. “Soniaji said No, but I am going ahead with the yatra”, he told the press and media people. Somewhere along the way, Mr Ambati Rambabu is issued a show-cause notice and is then suspended from the party. There was some talk of Mrs Konda Surekha being issued a show-cause notice as well, but she is yet to receive it. Then, sometime last week, Mr Ahmed Patel tells the MLAs from Prakasam not to go on the yatra, and they decide not to. Mrs D Purandareswari clarifies that Mr Patel was talking with the high command’s concurrence.

And now comes the statement from Mr Veerappa Moily that there will be meetings district-wise where support will be extended to the families of those who committed suicide. It is now up to Jagan to decide whether YSR is a Congress leader to be cherished as such by all Congressmen and Congresswomen, or if YSR’s legacy is his personal property. Therein lies the rub: the Congress owns YSR and disowns his son who is defiant. And I always maintained that the supremo will not waste her breath talking about a nonentity called Jagan.

In tennis, a game can be won in four serves – 15; 30; 40; game. This time around when the high command serves (say, a show-cause to Jagan), that will be game, set, and match for Signora Sonia.

Where Do The Ducks Go In Winter? And ants, in summer?

2010-08-28T06:02:00.000-07:00

There is a ‘function palace’ opposite my ‘portion’ in Vidyanagar called Raj Gardens. This being the festive season – the month of Sravana – there are a lot of weddings and other festivities for which it is booked half the days. On other days, the cops park their jeep and motor bikes there and hang around generally, ready to move into action in case of trouble in their jurisdiction. I wonder where they park their vehicles and themselves when there is a function (for which Raj Gardens is booked). My brother, who visits with us often, told me that they park it under a tree shade elsewhere. But his glib answer doesn’t satisfy me: of course they park it elsewhere – but where? Elsewhere is no place…

I am reminded of Holden Caulfield, in Catcher in the Rye, who wonders where the ducks in the lake in central park of New York go in winter when the lake freezes over. A bit of science I learned at school tells me that water at -4 degrees Celsius expands, and so the fish hang out in the -4 degrees C. zone during winter. It is called the anomalous expansion of water. Science has no answer, just a name, for the odd behavior of water. But ducks cannot get into that zone. J D Salinger, the author of Catcher in the Rye, doesn’t offer any explanation for Holden’s question. It still keeps me sleepless some nights.

Science is a bunch of glib answers

Physics (or the physical sciences) is said to be different from biological sciences in that the former is explanatory and the later is taxonomical. I question that kind of classification of the sciences. The anomalous expansion of water is an example of a glib ‘explanation’ by physical scientists; how did they explain the strange behavior of water at -4 degrees C.? By giving it a name, which is the same as primitive societies giving names to the elements: Varuna, for the rain god, Vayu, for wind, and so on. That was a different ‘explanatory’ level from what ‘modern’ science has to offer.

So also the big bang. There was nothing in the beginning of the universe (in space and time). Christian theology created a God to ‘explain’ how things came to be (and Thank God we have a day off every week ever since). The physics professors theorized a Big Bang: what the heck is that? Another name…

The naming of a cat is a difficult matter – said T S Eliot. The naming of inexplicable things in the physical world is an easy matter. What stops a ball rolling on a smooth surface? “Friction” – pat comes the answer. It is just another name. Physics is all about giving names, and finding parallels. Two things are attracted to each other – they are unlike poles; they hate each other: it is because of their having the same charge. What is charge? Charge is that which makes somethings repel each other and some other things attract each other. All these are mere names, and definitions or tautologies.

The sun rises in the east. But what if the sun rises in the west one fine morning? Well, you will call that the east!

What is beyond names?

Beyond names, there is mathematics. There is engineering. There are machines at work, there is power supply and water going up in pipes instead of sinking into the earth. All these things make our life comfortable and that is why we are crazy about science and technology. That is also called Performance Theory. But more on that in a later piece.
At the same time, science and technology have given us the nuclear bomb (such a horror), ‘accidents’ at nuclear reactors (Chernobil), gas leakage that killed millions (in Bhopal), 9/11 (and hijacking as a method of screwing other people’s happiness). The Unabomber, who was against science and technology also used the very same technology to attack people. Science is a double-edged sword. And humans are not capable of such a weapon.

The less science we have all round, the better off we will be. I think Gandhiji said something of that sort. In fact the fewer humans we have on earth, the better for the planet: that is what the Voluntary Human Extinction Society tries to propagate. I am not a card-carrying member of that society, but there is something in what they say: check out www.vhem.org.

Tailpiece: Where do ants go in summer? Ant-arctica.

Saffron Terrorism; Sexy Drugs; Chiru Says No To Merger…

2010-08-28T06:01:00.001-07:00

First, let us talk about ‘saffron terrorism’ as formulated by Mr P Chidambaram. Saffron stands for Hindu in this context. But up until now, the official line on terrorism is that it knows no religion – that terrorists are just plain terrorists and that it is incorrect (at least politically) to associate it with one or other religion. That was only until it was restricted to one particular religion, right? Now that some Hindus by birth (they cannot be Hindus the moment they resort to terrorism) are indulging in terrorist acts, it is alright to color it saffron? That is the beauty of India: you can say anything about the majority community, sitting in the highest office at ‘home’ and play fast and loose with the sentiments of millions.

When the neighbouring country wages war against us, in broad daylight in Mumbai and holds important buildings in its claws – we as a nation cannot force the world community to declare that ‘impure’ neighbour a terrorist nation. We rejoice at some Narendra Modi being refused VISA to the U.S. We don’t take it as a national insult: we forget the ‘vayam panchadhika satam’ moral. During the vanavas of pandavas, all the kauravas were rounded up by the gandharvas, because one of the kauravas misbehaved. Yudhishtir asks Arjuna to go and release the kauravas from the gandharvas. Arjuna says, “Why should we bother? What we wanted to do, the gandharvas are doing (defeating the kauravas)” And then Yudhishtir explains: “When we fight the kauravas, we are 5 and they are 100. But when an outsider comes to attack kauravas, we must join them and we are 105 of us.” That is the story behind ‘Pancha (5) adhika (more than) satam (100).’

The powers that be in New Delhi, and sundry secularists of the country, should have known the subtlety involved in one of our leaders – whatever differences you may have with him – is humiliated by the U.S. Embassy and lodged a protest. No, these secular elements were watching the fun from the ring side! In everything else, they oppose the U.S., but when Narendra Modi is refused VISA, they have all praise for it.

Sexy drugs

In recent days in Hyderabad, there has been a lot of talk about cocaine smuggling, prostitution rackets, and sundry high profile crimes. We hear of well-connected people being involved not only in drug abuse but also drug trafficking (not to mention flesh trade). Our stars seem to be competing with Hollywood on that ‘score’ if not in the quality of movies produced and standards of histrionics. My question is – why do the police hesitate to reveal the names of suspects or apprehend them. If it is a case of ‘ganza’ (or grass, if you like a posh name for it), the names and addresses of the guys carrying it are given in the newspapers. (That of course only makes them popular and junkies know where to go for their fix.)

Why then aren’t the cops naming the have-been stars and wannabe heart-throbs who are involved in this business. That is because in the free country of ours it is the rich who are free to have a gala time. Ganja is a poor man’s escape route: it costs Rs 15/- per 10 grams; I think 10 grams of ‘coke’ costs in thousands. Coke is sexy – it is the rich man’s preserve: and the rich are above the law. The lesser mortals get lectured on the ill effects of tobacco and ghutka, while the rich have their fancy pubs where they openly indulge in drugs. Some rich kids indulge in romance in the classrooms, while the teacher is watching helplessly. I wonder if that kind of calf-love is allowed in classrooms in the west.

Chiru says no to merger with the Congress

Setting to rest speculation of a merger with the Congress party, the Praja Rajyam supremo, Mr K Chiranjeevi categorically stated that the PRP will not merge with the Congress. He said that if the government does good, his party would support it; and if the government is doing the wrong thing, they will condemn it. Fair enough. He also pointed out that the PRP got 70 lakh votes, although it could win only18 seats – that is a point to be noted. In this context, he said, he may have an alliance with the Congress, but not a merger. That is sweet news for the Congress party: because, if he merges with the Congress, he will be a contender for the Chief Minister’s position. As long as he is outside, and works with them, the CM gaddi will be restricted to a Congress leader – and all the Congress leaders would welcome Chiru’s stance.

Bottomline: Chiru has a red carpet welcome, as an ally; Jagan has a red carpet – leading out of 10 Janpath.

Land of Rakhi Brothers and Cousin Sisters…

2010-08-26T05:34:00.000-07:00

In north India, it is common for girls to tie the
Rakhi on a boy of her age for whom she has
as sisterly affection, and call him a Rakhi brother. In the south too, this happens these days but not to the extent to which it happens in the north. It is said jokingly that some boys avoid meeting girls on Raksha Bandhan day (the full moon day in the month of Sawan or Sravana - this year, the 24th, yesterday). There are a lot of jokes about boys with romantic designs on a girl being thwarted by the girl by tying a Rakhi on him.
Interestingly, the convention of Rakhi cuts across religions: I have a friend who is born and brought up as a Hindu, but took to Christianity after marriage (to another friend of mine). One Rakhi day five years or so ago, I met her and her husband, with their children, and she naturally tied the Rakhi on my hand. It is much more meaningful than the friendship bands which are in vogue these days. It is much more expensive too - when someone ties the Rakhi on you, you have to give money, however less or more.
This year, another girl I have known for years sent me an SMS saying 'I think of you as an elder brother'on Rakhi day. She could not tie the Rakhi since we were in two different cities. She is a muslim and Rakhi is not a part of their culture. Therein lies the greatness of India: that people across communities follow common conventions. It is sad that these common conventions tend to be the Hindu customs, but there are exceptions. Years ago when I was in Singapore, I had a close friend who was a muslim: I kept the fasting (roza) during the holy month of Ramadan, just to keep him company - although I did not follow it to the T. I used to have coffee and tea during the day.
Talking of inter-communal harmony, I must mention this episode: Years ago, my good friend Salahuddin Tak was playing with color on Holi quite vigorously and one person on whom he was going to put color said don't do that - I am a muslim. Tak saab went ahead and put color, and said: "So am I." I can never forget the enthusiasm with which he used to celebrate diwali. He had a thing against New Year, however: he said it had nothing to do with India. May his tribe grow!
Cousin brothers
In south India, it is a common thing for cross cousins to get married to each other: cross cousins are your maternal uncle's son or daughter, or your paternal aunt's son or daughter. However, it is sacrilege to marry a parallel cousin (your paternal uncle's son or daughter or your maternal aunt's son or daughter). So much so that you address the parallel cousins as cousin brother or cousin sister. In the north of course, all cousins are considered brothers or sisters and marriage with any of them is anathema.
It is quite common in India to ask people when they say My brother works in Bangalore, Is it your own brother or cousin brother?
Tanguturi Prakasam
It is not the case that I forgot to write about Shri Tanguturi Prakasam on the 23rd August; it is just that I don't know much about that great man, except that there is a district in Andhra Pradesh named after him, and that he was the first Chief Minister of the composite Andhra Pradesh state. There is also an apocryphal story, which is likely very true.
He was a great trial court lawyer and on one occasion he was in the midst of an argument when he received a telegram. He is said to have looked at the contents of it and put it in his pocket and continued with his case. People came to know later that the telegram contained news of his wife's death. He was a man of steel and the Sardar Patel of the south.

Saffron Terrorism; Sexy Drugs; Chiru Says No To Merger…

2010-08-26T05:32:00.001-07:00

First, let us talk about ‘saffron terrorism’ as formulated by Mr P Chidambaram. Saffron stands for Hindu in this context. But up until now, the official line on terrorism is that it knows no religion – that terrorists are just plain terrorists and that it is incorrect (at least politically) to associate it with one or other religion. That was only until it was restricted to one particular religion, right? Now that some Hindus by birth (they cannot be Hindus the moment they resort to terrorism) are indulging in terrorist acts, it is alright to color it saffron? That is the beauty of India: you can say anything about the majority community, sitting in the highest office at ‘home’ and play fast and loose with the sentiments of millions.

When the neighbouring country wages war against us, in broad daylight in Mumbai and holds important buildings in its claws – we as a nation cannot force the world community to declare that ‘impure’ neighbour a terrorist nation. We rejoice at some Narendra Modi being refused VISA to the U.S. We don’t take it as a national insult: we forget the ‘vayam panchadhika satam’ moral. During the vanavas of pandavas, all the kauravas were rounded up by the gandharvas, because one of the kauravas misbehaved. Yudhishtir asks Arjuna to go and release the kauravas from the gandharvas. Arjuna says, “Why should we bother? What we wanted to do, the gandharvas are doing (defeating the kauravas)” And then Yudhishtir explains: “When we fight the kauravas, we are 5 and they are 100. But when an outsider comes to attack kauravas, we must join them and we are 105 of us.” That is the story behind ‘Pancha (5) adhika (more than) satam (100).’

The powers that be in New Delhi, and sundry secularists of the country, should have known the subtlety involved in the panchadhikasatam law. one of our leaders – whatever differences you may have with him – is humiliated by the U.S. Embassy and the government should have lodged a protest. No, these secular elements were watching the fun from the ring side! The left parties which oppose the U.S. in everything else are all praise for it when Mr Modi is refused VISA by it.

Sexy drugs

In recent days in Hyderabad, there has been a lot of talk about cocaine smuggling, prostitution rackets, and sundry high profile crimes. We hear of well-connected people being involved not only in drug abuse but also drug trafficking (not to mention flesh trade). Our stars seem to be competing with Hollywood on that ‘score’ if not in the quality of movies produced and standards of histrionics. My question is – why do the police hesitate to reveal the names of suspects or apprehend them. If it is a case of ‘ganza’ (or grass, if you like a posh name for it), the names and addresses of the guys carrying it are given in the newspapers. (That of course only makes them popular and junkies know where to go for their fix.)

Why then aren’t the cops naming the have-been stars and wannabe heart-throbs who are involved in this business. That is because in the free country of ours it is the rich who are free to have a gala time. Ganja is a poor man’s escape route: it costs Rs 15/- per 10 grams; I think 10 grams of ‘coke’ costs in thousands. Coke is sexy – it is the rich man’s preserve: and the rich are above the law. The lesser mortals get lectured on the ill effects of tobacco and ghutka, while the rich have their fancy pubs where they openly indulge in drugs. Some rich kids indulge in romance in the classrooms, while the teacher is watching helplessly. I wonder if that kind of calf-love is allowed in classrooms in the west.

Chiru says no to merger with the Congress

Setting to rest speculation of a merger with the Congress party, the Praja Rajyam supremo, Mr K Chiranjeevi categorically stated that the PRP will not merge with the Congress. He said that if the government does good, his party would support it; and if the government is doing the wrong thing, they will condemn it. Fair enough. He also pointed out that the PRP got 70 lakh votes, although it could win only18 seats – that is a point to be noted. In this context, he said, he may have an alliance with the Congress, but not a merger. That is sweet news for the Congress party: because, if he merges with the Congress, he will be a contender for the Chief Minister’s position. As long as he is outside, and works with them, the CM gaddi will be restricted to a Congress leader – and all the Congress leaders would welcome Chiru’s stance.

Bottomline: Chiru has a red carpet welcome, as an ally; Jagan has a red carpet – leading out of 10 Janpath.

You are a south Indian if…

2010-08-21T04:49:00.000-07:00

You encourage your children to call the neighborhood girl ‘akka’ (big sister) or the boy ‘anna’ (big brother)
You say that people at the work place are one big family (and cut the cake on their birthday, and sing “Happy birthday to you” out of tune)
You let your children sleep in your bed until they are 12 or even above.
You believe in Shirdi Saibaba and don’t know (or argue against) the fact that he was a muslim mendicant
You care for your parents more than for your progeny, even at the age of 40
You pay for your children’s education until they get a job – even until they are 30+ (and encourage them to learn all manner of software languages, past, present, and future)
Your first sexperience is with your wife or husband; or, you get hitched to the person you first have sex with ever in your life.
You allow your children to get on facebook on condition that they share their password with you
You believe that money given to your sisters will come back to you ten fold from some other sources
You are convinced that Vivekananda was a Malayalee
You believe in Nadi Jatakam and what they tell you about what you were in the previous life
You sit and drink with your buddies while the wives are huddled in a corner, starving
You collect milk packets and sell them once in a month; and, before putting them away, you wash them and pour that water into the milk, to get the last drop of milk out of the packet
Your furniture and car seats have the plastic cover in which they come, even several years after you bought them
You empty the drops of tea from the saucer into the cup – in Irani cafes
You believe that people speak Hindi in Hyderabad
You celebrate Ganesh Immersion with greater gusto than Vinayaka Chaturdhi
You bring in what is published in the Hindu as conclusive evidence for your argument
You carefully unwrap gift packages and fold them up and keep aside for ‘later use’ and you keep the cardboard cartons in which television or the fridge come in the attic
You say you are driving when you are actually riding a scooter or a bike.
You vote for the guy from your state on Indian Idol
You believe that Bruce Lee’s favorite breakfast is Idlee
You tie a meal (thali) around the neck of the bride during the marriage rites

Of Human Error: The Six Sigma Principle

2010-08-17T06:26:00.000-07:00

3.4 flights in a million will crash, if you leave the business of airlines to GE or Motorola: that is the guarantee given by companies which claim to offer six-sigma quality assurance. “Six Sigma is a highly disciplined process that helps us focus on developing and delivering near-perfect products and services. Why 'Sigma'? The word is a statistical term that measures how far a given process deviates from perfection. The central idea behind Six Sigma is that if you can measure how many 'defects' you have in a process, you can systematically figure out how to eliminate them and get as close to 'zero defects' as possible. To achieve Six Sigma Quality, a process must produce no more than 3.4 defects per million opportunities. An 'opportunity' is defined as a chance for nonconformance, or not meeting the required specifications. This means we need to be nearly flawless in executing our key processes.” [http://www.businessballs.com/sixsigma.htm]

Note that the whole thing talks about near perfection and nearly flawless. But not exactly. If you are travelling by a train, and it is relying on a six-sigma signaling system, and assuming that the signaling system has provided correct signals one million times before your journey, it is likely to collide with another train; in fact, 3.4 percent chances are there that it will collide. You do the math…
Do we hear of birds that crash once in a million, except when they collide with human contraptions like airplanes? No. The reason is the fledglings are allowed to fly only when the parents are one-hundred percent sure that the little ones can fly. In the human world however planes that have been tried and tested in labs are allowed to fly, with an error rate of 3.4. That is six sigma for you in brief. Should we do that? Should we allow our children to ride motor cycles at ages when they are too young to handle the bike? We should not, but we do. We allow trains to carry passengers knowing full well that 3.4 in a million of them will die in an accident. That is a small number, unless it is you…

We don’t see monkeys and chipmunks falling off trees – not the smallest of them. So then are we humans a superior species? We are not. We are not better off than animals in the forests; we are not better off than birds in the sky: we are not, as the Christians believe – made in the image of God. Unless of course, as we all are beginning to suspect, God himself is not infallible. A God who cannot stop things colliding in His creation, a God who is watching us helplessly as we destroy mother earth. A God who is not omnipotent (He cannot stop accidents from occurring), not omnipresent (if He is, he is a silent bystander), omniscient (if He is, he doesn’t stop us from self-destruction). If he is, what kind of a God is He or She?

Birds are better off

My theory of evolution is that the losers from the monkey-chimp era ‘evolved’ into humans and have created a mess on this earth. The real smart ones went on to be birds. They are free; they communicate without worrying about grammar and tense. Birds also eat very little and they don’t visit gyms to reduce weight. All manner of diseases are associated with human beings, but not with birds. I am not a vet, but only animals associated with humans have health problems. Animals in the wild die of natural causes. So who argues that humans are a superior specious to all others. That is sheer nonsense: it is Darwin’s ideology that permeates through the ages and makes us believe that we are closest to God.

It is actually the birds which are closest to God (heaven). In fact, I don’t think birds will have a re-birth. So what if they get eaten in this life. Eternal life is available to them: they go straight to ‘apunarbhavam’. Vivekananda said: Natvaham Kaamaye Rajyam, Na Swargam, Na apunarbhavam; Kamaye duhkha taptanam praninam arti nashanam (I don’t want kingdom, nor heaven; nor even release from the cycle of birth and death. I want that the thirst of the wretched of this planet to be quenched.)
Maybe the best of us will come back as birds and become food for the hungry and thirsty?

I Learned To Be Proud Of India From The RSS

2010-08-13T05:38:00.000-07:00

Long before India arrived on the world scene, long before Julia Roberts took to Hinduism, and long before Mr Mukesh Ambani joined the list of the richest people in the world, I was proud to be an Indian. It was something inculcated in me by the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS). That was when the RSS had not degenerated to playing second fiddle to the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and the Vishwa Hindu Parishat (VHP). VHP started taking the lead in affairs related to Hinduism in the late 80s and relegated RSS to a second position. The BJP took over in 1989 and relegated VHP to the second and RSS to the third position. The RSS of today is entirely different from what it used to be.

Back in the 70s, the RSS was a bunch of middle-aged men who were convinced of the importance (not superiority) of Hindu thought, and its propagation. There was no militant Hindutva then. Yes, a few ‘radical’ youths did shout slogans against Pakistan in a camp I attended but that was all. When I asked the seniors in the organization why they have slogans like “Hindu-Hindu Bhai Bhai” (and not “Hindu-Muslim Bhai Bhai,” which is the Congress slogan really) they said, when you get stronger as a community, other communities will come calling on you as brother. That sounded reasonable. I no longer subscribe to the RSS doxa. I am more of a Hindu than the intolerant, intolerable RSS.

“What is Hinduism?” asked my friend, a devout Roman Catholic. I was not in a position to define it. “What is the central doctrine of Hinduism?” Another meek reply: “I am not sure…” This went on for some time. Then I said, after some deep thought: It is all about tolerance. True, Hinduism tolerates belief in all manner of gods; and even atheism! The other thing about Hinduism is renunciation. The greatest virtue is not remaining a bachelor, not doing good deeds all your life, but giving it all up.

When Bill Gates was baffled

In 1997, when Bill Gates visited India for the first time, someone in the audience got up and asked: “Are you thinking of giving some of your wealth for charity?” This visibly baffled Bill Gates. “I haven’t thought about it,” he said. Now he is coming to India and China together with Mr Warren Buffet (another Richie Rich) to appeal to the billionaires to give away money in charity. I don’t understand why people have to accumulate wealth by fair means (and more often foul means) and then give it away to poor people. If the folks in the top twenty-five richest people of Fortune’s list stop making more and more money and resorting to the destruction of the planet (let us face it, you cannot get richer by kinder means), the world would be a much better place.

Mistake Clerk
In banks and other offices in Britain, according to P G Wodehouse, there is a clerk dedicated to take a dressing down from the manager when an angry customer comes and complains about some wrong doing. The ‘mistake clerk’ is promptly dismissed, only to be taken back into service soon after the angry customer leaves the premises. Now, it appears that the Congress party has found a mistake clerk in Mr P V Narasimharao at the center; and Dr Y S Rajasekhara Reddy at the state level. All previous wrong doings (like letting off Warren Anderson of Union Carbide; and all of the mining-lease irregularities) are attributed to PV and YSR respectively.

Lepers along the hospital road
In the middle of Hyderabad, in Vidyanagar, there is a hospital called AMS Durgabai Deshmukh hospital: by the side of its wall, there is a road lined with lepers, whose only means of support is begging. This has been the case for the past 20 years that I have been familiar with Vidyanagar. Nobody gives a second thought; the kindly ones drop a rupee or two in their bowls. Isn’t it a shame that in India, which is home to two of the top 25 rich people has this unseemly sight in the middle of the silicon hub of India? It’s a silly-con hub.

Will Jagan Get The Mining Portfolio In The Central Cabinet?

2010-08-13T05:37:00.000-07:00

Mr C Adinarayana Reddy (MLA supporting Mr Y S Jaganmohan Reddy) ‘requested’ the Congress high command to consider a cabinet berth for Jagan. He did not specify the portfolio but mining would perhaps be Jagan’s choice. That would be in the fitness of things given that Jagan has a profound understanding of mines and leases. It is now for the Congress high command to decide: I believe it is nonsensical to talk about a truce between the Kadapa MP and the Congress party. He is clearly not with the party. Earlier this week, it was reported that when Madame Gandhi Jr and Mr Rahul Gandhi entered the parliament, Jagan did not approach them as did many other MPs who were present. That kind of arrogance is only going to land him in deeper trouble.

Already, Mrs Konda Surekha failed to attract suspension; that would have put the ball in Jagan’s court. The high command is in no hurry to take the battle to Jagan’s camp. It is just dribbling with the ball for the time being. Konda Surekha is in a state of limbo, not knowing whether to up the ante or lie low. Jagan himself is clueless. The high command refuses to strike in spite of all the barbs aimed to irk them. This inaction from the high command makes Jagan and co. think that the high command now wants to come to an understanding with Jagan. It is just that 10 Janpath does not want to give any attention to Jagan; it is infradig. As I wrote quite a while ago, Jagan burnt his bridges when he announced the details of his meeting with Soniaji to the public. There is no going back after that.

In the meantime, senior leaders of the Congress party in the state are preparing notes on various misdeeds and wheelings and dealings of Jagan and his camp followers. The principal opposition paper is doing its bit in providing details. The Telugu Desam Party submitted two booklets – “Raja of Corruption” and “Mining Mafia…” to the Prime Minister earlier. It seems that the Congress leaders are queuing up for copies of those books. It seems they are out of print. All this means only one thing: Jagan is heading for Sankaragiri…
Who will be the next PCC Chief?

Alternatively, Mr C Adinarayana Reddy said: Give Jagan the Pradesh Congress Committee chief’s position. Another emphatic “No”. If ever the high command entertains a dialog with Jagan, it will be very short, and direct: “Get lost!” So who will be the next PCC chief? Obviously not Mr D Srinivas. Speculation is that Mr Jana Reddy and K Suresh Reddy are in the race. Of the two, Suresh Reddy is said to be equally acceptable for both the Telangana and Andhra leaders. Traditionally, the Chief Minister is from the Reddy community and the PCC chief is either a backward leader or a Dalit. Now that the CM is from a different community, it is being proposed by some that the PCC post will go to a Reddy.

I beg to differ. I think Mr K Rosaiah will step down when conditions are back to normal (that is, after the storm in the tea cup created by Jagan subsides). Let us face it, Mr Rosaiah is not in the pink of his health. It is only a matter of months before he renounces the CM post. The CM post will eventually go to a Reddy (My vote is for Mrs J Geeta Reddy, as I said many times). Therefore, the PCC chief will be a dalit leader: in all likelihood, Dr Mallu Ravi. He is said to be a YSR loyalist, and enjoys the support of Jagan as well. Mr Rosaiah and Dr K V P Ramachandra Rao also second his candidature.

Another name doing the rounds is that of Mr Nandi Yellaih but again he is too old. For that matter, Dr Mallu Ravi himself is none too young. He is known to be a capable person with a rather clean image, if not pure as driven snow. More importantly, he stayed clear of the whole battle between the high command and Jagan in the past couple of months. I wish him luck.

Bottomline: Julia Roberts is a practicing Hindu: I am thrilled. Apparently, she is intrigued by Hinduism!

When Renuka Chaudhary Was In Tears

2010-08-12T03:06:00.000-07:00

In 1991, when Shri Rajiv Gandhi was assassinated, many leaders of the Congress party were begging Mrs Sonia Gandhi to take up the reins of the party. The redoubtable Renuka Chaudhary – who straddled Andhra politics in the Telugu Desam Party (TDP) and the Congress party over a decade by then – was in tears (actually in tears, on network television) appealing to Mrs Gandhi Jr to take over the Congress party. Mrs Gandhi, Jr, in her wisdom, did not accede to appeals from Mrs Chaudhary or other party functionaries. It was only in 1996 or 1997, when she felt that the Congress government under Mr P V Narasimha Rao had not done enough to clear the image of the late Rajiv Gandhi from the Bofors scandal that she entered active politics.

Even then, she did not take a role in the government and restricted herself to administering the party. Eventually, Rajiv Gandhi’s name was cleared of the murky Bofors deal. Her job is done, but she got inexorably linked with the party. She is going on with that ‘duty’, despite criticism (sometimes vile). People said nasty things about her foreign origins but she remained loyal to the country of her late husband and his memory.

Mrs Gandhi Jr has lost her mother-in-law and her husband to militant/terrorist attacks but she was unmoved. She argued with Rajiv not to enter politics, because he would be killed. According to her, he said: ‘I would be killed anyway!’ What an awful condition to be in, knowing that your husband is on short notice from the guns of trained terrorists and that he would be killed anytime. Killing is so easy: It must be harrowing for the Gandhi family to know that they are targeted by militant and terrorist groups even now.

Consider the fact that Rahul Gandhi is the Prime Minister in waiting; there was (hasn’t been anything) between him and the Prime Minister’s Kursi. Initially, it was thought that Dr Manmohan Singh was only a ‘seat-warmer’ and that Rahul will take over. Dr Singh is into his second term as Prime Minister and looks good to complete this term. Will Rahul take over in 2014? That is a question exercising the minds of politically minded people even now. My guess is that he will not. If Congress does come to power a third time (coalitions and all), it may be someone outside the Gandhi dynasty.

Compared to that, what is Y S Jaganmohan Reddy? Who is Y S R? The most corrupt politician of this century. Who is brother Anil Kumar? YSR and the bunch of people around him (who are around Jagan now) are looting the natural resources of Andhra. Who is funding Sakshi newspaper and the channel? It is unfortunate that the high command is acting on the misdeeds of the Y S R regime only to check-mate Jagan. If he had towed the party line, all the corrupt deals would have been swept under the carpet. Mr Ramoji Rao, who is himself accused of misappropriating other people’s property (according to Sakshi), would have kept quiet about the mining leases and other misdeeds of the former rulers. Why is Eenadu making a noise about all the old deals now? There is a cozy equation between the opposition paper and the ruling party. Jagan upset the apple cart and now both ‘position’ and opposition are going for Jagan’s jugular.

That Jagan is persona non-grata in the Congress party now is clear. Mr Sandeep Dikshit is not negotiating truce between Jagan and the high command. War or truce is between two equal forces; Jagan is a spent force. The high command is all powerful. As I said, the high command would have forgiven all the misdeeds of the previous government, would have turned a blind eye on Jagan’s misdeeds (and Ambati Rambabu’s involvement in nefarious deals involving the Andhra Pradesh Industrial Infrastructure Corporation [APIIDC]), would have named Jagan the future leader of the party – if Jagan hadn’t been in such a hurry to become the chief minister of Andhra Pradesh. Corruption is a worldwide phenomenon, Mrs Gandhi Sr said famously. Jagan is not the first Congress leader, nor the last, who is corrupt.

Rahul is waiting in the wings; indeed, Rahul may hang up his boots once he brings back Congress to number one position in U.P. Jagan should learn to play solitaire; he may find that is the only distraction he is allowed in days to come.

Bottomline: When asked whether Mr Varun Gandhi is allowed to tour Bihar, Mr Sharad Yadav said: Who is Varun Gandhi? Madame may very well ask, if asked: Who is Jagan?

Making Kind Choices…

2010-08-12T02:51:00.000-07:00

Thanks Chiru, But No Thanks – Says CM

Mr Chiranjeevi of Praja Rajyam Party formally offered support to the Congress party in case there is some trouble because of Mr Y S Jaganmohan Reddy. He said that he didn’t want another election so soon: which is commendable. He also made allegations, which we have seen in the main opposition newspaper, about Jagan accumulating thousands of crores. It is now official: Chiranjeevi is going to be the front runner for the CM’s job if the Congress comes back to power. However, there is a catch: The Congress party has to create a separate Telangana state to keep its existence in that region. And Chiru is loathe to splitting the state.

Be that as it may, the Chief Minister Mr K Roasaiah has welcomed the support offered by Chiru gracefully, but stated that the government is stable, that there is no threat to its existence. The offer of support Chiru made has to be seen in the context of Jagan’s camp followers writing letters to the high command of Congress. The high command wisely countered all the noise from the Jagan camp with an oblique statement from Chiranjeevi. It means two things: “You (Jagan) cannot take out more than 20 – 25 MLAs with you; and that shortfall will be made up by the PRP MLAs. Go take a walk now!”

In the meantime, Jagan is going ahead with plans for his consolation trip in Prakasam district. By the time he starts on his third phase of the consolation, he would have severed his links with the Congress party. That should happen on his own accord. I do wish the high command keeps its cool and lets him go, rather than push him out. The high command’s moves so far indicate that it is going to be Jagan’s choice and not the high command’s push.

PETA and Pest Control…

On the surface of it, the business of pest control seems to be at loggerheads with the cause of People for Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) or the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty towards Animals (ASPCA). There is no room for critters that spread diseases and cause no end of trouble for humans. Flies and mosquitoes are on top of that list. Recently, Barack Obama – reports said – was criticized by PETA for swatting a fly during a television interview: it appeared unreasonalble. I thought it was ridiculous to protest against a trivial matter like this. However, here is what PETA had to say on the matter:
“As we all know, human beings often don’t think before they act. We don’t condemn President Obama for acting on instinct. When the media began contacting us in droves for a statement, we obliged, simply by saying that the president isn’t the Buddha and shouldn’t be expected to do everything right—if not for that, we would not have brought it up. It’s the media who are making a big deal about the fly swat—not PETA. However, we took the opportunity, when asked, to point out that we do offer lots of ways in which to control insects of all kinds without harming them. There is even a chapter in PETA President Ingrid E. Newkirk’s book, Making Kind Choices, about how to rid your home of “uninvited guests.”

A friend of mine in the business of pest control threw some light on this: “The ethics underlying pest control are based on the distribution of the species - rats and mice are aplenty; so there is no restriction on killing them. Mosquitoes and flies breed prolifically: Try as you might, you cannot exterminate them. But you should not touch honeybees (you can relocate them) because honeybees help pollination of flowers. So also, snakes of various types have to be captured and set into the wild but cannot be killed. In India, we have a tradition of snake charmers. Wild animals of various types – including tigers and panthers, deer and antelopes, have to be protected: if they endanger people, you should trap them and let them into the wild once again.”

Recently, we had a case of a panther that strayed into the path used by pilgrims going up the Tirumala hills. It was promptly captured and sent back into the Abhayaranya.

Bottomline: If there is one species that needs to be exterminated, believe the folk at voluntary human extinction movement, (www.vhemt.org/ecology.htm), it is homo sapiens.

You Don’t Need A Driving License To Get Laid…

2010-08-09T03:19:00.000-07:00

This piece is occasioned by an article titled Sex Gets Younger in a popular broadsheet a couple of weeks ago. It was based on interviews with ‘young’ people in the 21 – 26 segment who are indulging in premarital sex. The article went on as if the wannabe western denizens of India have got a sexual revolution going: that the age at which people are indulging in sex is getting lower. Traditionally, that is, until 50 years ago, young, prepubescent girls were married off and were seen off with their husbands, after what was called “nuptials”, that is – consummation – soon after they attained puberty. Can sex get any younger than that?

“The 1891 Age of Consent Act was legislation introduced in British India to raise the age of consent of consummation from ten to twelve years. While an 1880 case in a Bombay high court by a child-bride, Rukhmabai, renewed discussion of such a law, the death of an eleven-year-old Bengali girl, Phulomnee, due to forceful intercourse by her 35 year old husband in 1889, necessitated intervention by the British.” Interestingly, Bal Gangadhar Tilak opposed the bill on the grounds that this was not an issue for the British but Hindus to decide.

It is not my case that child marriages and early age of consent are acceptable. I am only saying that having sex early in life nothing new to this holy land. Indeed, there were many child marriages and child widowhoods in our inglorious past. Nobody will ever want those days to come back. We all also condemn young girls forced to become sex workers as soon as they are ‘eligible’. Obviously, I don’t belong a paedophile advocacy group.

In India, today, the age of consent is 16, although the official age for girls to get married is 18 and for boys, 21. That is, a girl (or boy) can get laid before they can get a driving license for a two-wheeler with gears. Talking of sex getting younger is so ridiculous.

“In January 2004, a Division bench of the Kerala's High Court in Southern India suggested that the age of consent should be raised from 16 to 18 in that state. Justice R. Basant said he considered illogical that a legal system in which an age of 18 is used for other purposes – like the Indian Majority Act, the Contract Act, the Juvenile Justice Act, the Child Marriage Restraint Act and the Representation of People Act – has a different approach in the case of sexual consent.”
The age of marriage 18 – 21 (for girls and boys respectively) is a healthy framework. Otherwise we have a situation where boys and girls who are not allowed inside pubs or to smoke can get raunchy.

Age of Consent Around the world…

In 1979, the now-defunct Dutch Pacifist Socialist Party supported an unsuccessful petition to lower the age of consent to 12. In Canada, the age of consent was raised from 14 to 16 on 1 May 2008 (in 1890 it was raised from 12 to 14).

“In 1977 while a reform in the French penal code was under discussion in the parliament, a petition to decriminalize of all consented relations between adults and minors below the age of fifteen was sent to Parliament but did not succeed in changing the law. In 1978 the petition was discussed in a broadcast by radio France Culture in the program "Dialogues", with the transcript later published under the title Sexual Morality and the Law in a book by Michel Foucault...”

Talking of Michael Foucault, he wrote in his celebrated History of Sexuality that India was by far much more liberal (not licentious) than the west in matters of sexuality. It was only the British and their Victorian morality that made a mess of things in India.

About Michael Foucault and his ouvre, another day…

[Much of this article is sourced from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Age_of_consent_reform and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1891_Age_of_Consent_Act]

Ma tujhe salaam!

2010-08-05T05:17:00.000-07:00

On Friendship Bands, And Other Kinds Of Human Bonds...

This should have appeared two days ago, but I did not realize it that the friendship day has passed by yesterday, until one of my students wished me Happy Friendship Day; another girl came with a ‘friendship band’. Back in my college days, this madness hasn’t reached India: I have some very close friends whom I cherish, and here is the kind of bonding we all share:

“Your friend is your needs answered…. For you come to him with your hunger,
and you seek him for peace…. When your friend is silent your heart ceases
not to listen to his heart; For without words, in friendship, all thoughts,
all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.”
(From Kahlil Gibran’s Prophet 'On Friendship')

I don’t find any of these wonderful thoughts or feelings reflected in the gross friendship bands; boys and girls of a particular age are not aware of the deeper meaning of friendship. That is understandable – but college-going boys and girls behaving like kids is beyond me. I don’t understand what they mean by putting bands. I think all this got started with the over-aged kid Sharukh Khan and the bubbly Kajol in one of those sick bollywood movies.

There are all kinds of other days, for bosses, for secretaries, for chaukidars, and for martyrs. Of all these, the most nauseating Hallmark holidays, for an Indian, is Mothers’ day.

The scholar and poet, Shiv K Kumar says that in India we don’t have one day earmarked for mothers: every single day of our lives we worship out mothers. Oh yes, there is that thing that Indian males are all momma’s boys; there is nothing to be ashamed of there. Take my mom for instance. She is nonchalant in the most stressful of times, like packing for a long journey, like not getting the train tickets confirmed before time, like a child of ten not returning home even after 5 p.m. Here are a couple of vignettes of her strength, fortitude, and forbearance…

As a young boy of 9 or 10 years, I once came upon a two-rupee note (back then there were no one or two rupee coins) in the cupboard. I grabbed it and went out to the nearest corner shop. I proffered the note hesitatingly (I thought the shopkeeper, who know our family, will report me to my parents). He quietly took it, business as usual, and gave me the éclairs I wanted. After thus sating my appetite for candy, I started feeling guilty and went back home. Mother was in the kitchen; I told her that I found 2 rupees. She said what did you do with it? I said I spent 10 paisa and have the remaining change. “OK, now keep that where you found the money in the first place”. Nor did she say a word to my father about it.

Years later, in fact a couple of decades later, I was in an apartment owned by my company (Orient Longman). There were 4 other apartments belonging to the company in that block. In one of them, my good friend and Arabic scholar Dr Salahuddin Tak (of Anantnag, now with the University of Kashmir, Srinagar) used to stay and in another, our sales manager used to stay. I went to work one morning, leaving my mother and my sister’s 3-year old son (Ashwin). Ma was taking care of the boy since my sister had no one to look after him when she went to work.

Around 2 p.m., I get a call from the sales manager’s house: The long and short of what I could make out was that my mother was locked outside the house (the latch key was inside; luckily, I had a duplicate). The boy was outside too, playing on the terrace. I was worried, it was a cloudy day. I was in the middle of something important. I spoke to Dr Tak, who said he had to go on office work to a printer near our apartment block around 4 p.m. and that he would take the key then.
Around 3 p.m. he came around to my desk: “Pandit, give me the key. I am leaving now. I don’t know what state your mom and Ashwin are; maybe it is raining there” Of course ma had other friends in that block, but we decided that it is best for him to go as early as possible.

Later in the evening, Salahuddin was rolling on the floor laughing, telling me his encounter with my mother in the afternoon. As he reached the apartment block, it was drizzling a bit, just a droplet here and a droplet there. He rushed up to the terrace to find ma playing with Ashwin. He managed to convey to her that he brought the key. And to his bafflement, ma just indicated the top step of the stairway, and said (in Telugu): “Keep it there” She seemed to be in no hurry to get back to the apartment, to be enjoying the breeze, not at all bothered about the few drops of rain. “Into each life some rain must fall” seemed to be her credo.

Macaulay’s Orphans; The Singapore Story; Finnish Pride…

2010-07-31T05:50:00.000-07:00

Lord Macaulay, in his infamous minute on Indian education (2nd February, 1835), said to the British parliament that:
“We must at present do our best to form a class who may be interpreters between us and the millions whom we govern; a class of persons, Indian in blood and color, but English in taste, in opinions, in morals, and in intellect. To that class we may leave it to refine the vernacular dialects of the country, to enrich those dialects with terms of science borrowed from the Western nomenclature, and to render them by degrees fit vehicles for conveying knowledge to the great mass of the population.”

Granted that, as he says, the ‘vernacular’ languages are not fit for science and technology; granted that English is superior; but why should the people be converted to English tastes, opinions, morals, and intellect? Or even and ‘foreign’ religion? It is not known. Isn’t it enough that people learn the trade in English and maintain their own culture? To pursue a degree in the U.S.A., as many Indians aspire to these days (in fact, for the past several decades), is it necessary to rock to the tunes of pop and all that jazz? Frankly, I don’t think it is necessary. We don’t have to westernize ourselves to be up-to-date with the developments of science and technology. Is it necessary to wear minis and midis, and tank tops to do scientific research or software development? It beats me...

That the young generation rocks and rolls to the tunes of Michael Jackson, who was passé a decade ago seems strange to me. But that is what one of my students said: guys, Michael Jackson is God. And we rock. Some such thing. The seeds of this are sown again by Lord Macaulay:

“Learning English is closely associated with the study of English literary pieces in the Indian subcontinent. Even as many adult students in short term English courses may not care for the literary benefits of learning English, many more do not feel satisfied with just learning the language and using it only for practical ends. They do, indeed, seek to understand, enjoy and appreciate what English literature offers them. School curriculum always blends learning English language with learning and enjoying English (and American) literature.”

Luckily, there aren’t a huge number of these Macaulay’s orphans in our midst.
However, English has been taken up for instrumental (practical – utilitarian) purposes by millions of Indians and that helped us to stand beside the most advanced nations in the world today. Nattarin, an ethnic Chinese girl from Thailand, whom I met in Singapore circa 2000 said once, with a wistful air: “you guys are so lucky, to be colonized by the British; (Alas,) we have never been colonized and my English is so bad.

The Singapore Story

Singapore is a small island state, of about 265 square miles (at when the waters recede, as Senior Minister Lee Kuan Yew put it humorously in The Singapore Story), is one the most westernized of the Asian countries. Japan is probably more westernized of all; China too is pretty much westernized. All the schools and colleges in Singapore teach in English medium; but the people have a heavy accent. Even someone who graduates from a good college in India, after schooling in the mother tongue medium (for instance, yours truly), speaks better English than the average Singaporean who goes through 15 years of English medium instruction.

Figure that out yourself.

Finnish Pride…

The Finnish people are supposed to be very individualistic. When it comes to family bonds, they care less for their kin than the Americans. They take great pride in their language and their celebrated poets. There are statues of poets at every intersection: when I asked why they have so many poets’ statues, they said it is because they have nothing else to celebrate but their poets and their language.
And their commitment to Finnish gets in the way of their learning English; for them English is just another language (and it is vastly different from their own). They tend to pick up Swedish, because there is a sizeable Swedish population.

Interestingly, the Swedish speak better English because of similarity with English. The Finns have a bilingual dictionary on every computer and write with the help of the translations they obtain from the dictionary. Sometimes, even their spoken language is influenced by their translational-ese: like one guy was telling me that he was wasted the previous night. After looking it up in the dictionary, I realized that being wasted means being drunk.

The bottomline: I learnt a new word!