Showing posts with label Opinions?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Opinions?. Show all posts

Sunday, November 04, 2012

Dance of Democracy


The entire stretch of Asaf Ali Road between Kamla Market and Daryaganj is dotted with people in pink turbans. Clad mostly in kurtas and dhotis, this mass of humanity is almost continuous – it's difficult to discern individual pieces in that seemingly aimless flow. For a change, vehicles are lined on both sides of the road; pompously displaying their red beacons, VVIP signages, and occasional sirens and pressure horns helping them crawl; and the teeming populace occupies the center stage – rustling and bustling against each other, most of them also have their packed bags with them. Toting a camera, and donning a pair of blue jeans and a t-shirt, I might easily be overlooked as a journalist hungry for a bite in the evening editions.

Amidst the jostling crowd, occasionally I pass through groups of men of probably higher importance than others – the ones who are also carrying placards about the maha-rally today – a show of strength by the nation's ruling party. That's when I also notice that all the walls around, the ones still visible through the sea of people, have posters asking people to gather in large numbers at the Ramlila Grounds for the vishal jan-sabha.

This crowd is largely composed of farmers sourced from nearby states, as is apparent from their accent and travel bags. Smoking beedis, and occasionally marijuana, every individual seems engrossed with his own little world composed of friends from the same village, but still very much a part of the troupe. Most of them would've come here because they would have had nothing better to do in their villages anyway, or would have been promised an afternoon meal. They probably wouldn't know why they are here either, except for the fact that they would get to watch and listen to the powerful people who appear on TV channels regularly – they would also run a stampede to touch these 'celebrities' by hand, or just get a view up close, without knowing the reason why they are doing so.

There are two Indias. This is the India which breathes. And that's the only resource which it consumes more than the first India (one could argue about land, but without data to substantiate, it can still be safely presumed that in terms of real value, it does not). This is the India which comes only in statistics, the one which is classified and reclassified with different measures of dispersions, which is calculated by econometrics and humanities, but is somehow hidden out of view despite its size. This India is incomprehensible by the first India – the one which shines; whose claim to fame, the IT industry, consists of about 30-90 lakh people, depending on who is counting. Agriculture employs 25 crore people – that's about 25-80 times of everyone in IT – a magnitude which simply can't be comprehended in terms of real people.

Eight months ago, the Planning Commission lowered India's poverty line, in an attempt to better identify the poorest of the poor. That number stands at about 35 crore people – on an average, half of them are sleeping tonight without any food during the day. That number is incomprehensible in magnitude too – in our India, we don't 'see' it. It oozes out inconveniently, like purulence from festered wounds, at traffic signals and railway stations and sometimes, most inconveniently, in temples and mosques and churches. There are numerous more stats – on hunger, on poverty, on unemployment, on malnutrition, on quality of life, on urabanization, on slums, on diseases, on drinking water, even on manual scavenging (2 crore people live solely by cleaning excreta). That India is a huge swarm – the one which cannot think about Solon, Draco or Plato's works on democracy, the one which does not have time for education, and for which 'demanding rights' is an alien concept. It bothers about survival.

The first India, on the other hand, attends offices, reads papers, has an online presence, uses resources, and frets about city traffic. This is the India which might know the GDP stats, cry foul about Rs. 32 poverty line, but would largely be unaware of which five-year plan the country is running in. This is the India which feels disgusted at the classes in power, which hates bureaucracy, which even discusses the national issues in forums and conferences and blogs, occasionally rises up behind people like Kejriwal to do its bit for the country, and forms a sympathetic opinion of the second India through the lenses of camera channels or bollywood movies – as far as they realistically go.

The second India votes – for money, or food, or alcohol, or caste, or just because it wants to be alive. The first India votes too, without reading party manifestos, maybe in much lower percentages, which becomes further insignificant because of its size. Amidst this classic divide, the dance of democracy comes alive in full view – obscenely flashing itself from altars in Ramlila Grounds – persisting through decades by keeping the second India just the way it is, denying it with everything, and balancing off its destitution with belied human hopes in smooth murderous perfection.

I wriggle myself out of this sea, walk past the Delite Cinema towards my destination, the Daryaganj Sunday book market, and find the footpaths empty. "Aaj baazaar nahi laga hai sir, rally hai na," a paanwala informs me. Realizing the relative importance of the two things, I get back home.




Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Independence Day?

[Part 4 of 7 writings on Kashmir]


The beauty of the Jhelum is enhanced today – it has been raining incessantly since last night, and the river looks swelled up a bit, with a renewed energy in its generally tardy flow. The mountains in the backdrop are barely visible – greyish white fluffy clouds, which almost seem to be touching the brownish green earth far ahead, allow only a silhouette of the peaks of those Himalayan Ranges to pass through them, more prominent visibility being granted only to the foothills. There is no rainbow, but the freshly washed houseboats and shikaras dotting the banks seem to radiate enough colours to the sky compensating for any apparent lack of them. The rains have been reduced to moderate showers, and the tiny droplets fall softly and clumsily, narrating the fact that the sky is tired by now, and this downpour isn't going to last much longer. There is no wind, but the smell of green, wet trees and chinars soaked overnight and standing lazily fills the air – it's everywhere, and a breeze isn't really needed to carry that smell around. The surroundings are characteristically quiet, and peace seems to be more than normal. Mentally, I classify this as a beautiful day.

I am taking a longer route to the Lal Chowk today. It's past 11 in the morning, and after watching Delhi's flag hoisting on Doordarshan and listening to the compressed versions of fake promises and thoroughly useless speeches from the two highest offices in India (one guy who is generally mute, reads out neat Hindi passages with no touch of inspiration from this important podium, the other guy who used to be the 'troubleshooter' in North Block until few days ago, reads out boring English passages in his own accent apparently from an electronic display besides the TV camera), I decide to rather get on with my more-or-less indifferent life. I walk by the river, through the Jhelum View Park, soaking in the beauty around on a lethargic day in my Kashmir trip, hoping to buy a cup of Kahwa in this weather as I reach the marketplace. With an open umbrella above my head, khaki coloured shorts, a plain t-shirt, hawai chappals, and a characteristically "North Indian" face (after all, Kashmir isn't North India), I probably look like a walking confusion between a localite and a tourist.

As I reach the Zero Bridge of Rajbagh, I observe the surroundings more carefully. There are no private vehicles crossing the bridge, but after every few minutes, a cavalcade of Flying Squads, Vajra Vaahans, J&K Police buses, Ambassador cars with red beacons and Jeeps with square openings on top and armed men looking out, crosses by. On both sides of the bridge, and onwards, there are numerous men in uniform toting guns – apparently automatics, which look like capable of firing multiple rounds on the slightest touch to their triggers. As I reach the marketplace around noon, I am greeted by deserted roads, closed shutters, and of course, no tricolors anywhere – what I was classifying as peace on a beautiful day, now seems like a mourning, and the whole valley in the rains seems to be crying at its fate in silence. This is the stark reality of Kashmir.

What went wrong with the land which inspired countless poets, writers, painters and artists for centuries? As I walk back to the hotel, and ask Abdul to cook paranthas and some curry, I wonder at the people who thought about firing a bullet in this paradise on earth. The very idea of driving tankers and carrying firearms amidst this beauty is violent, actually using them is probably as criminal as throwing acid on the pretty face of a 12 year old girl. It all might have started with the selective greed of certain men, transpiring into a collective suffering for the masses. To this day, the whole of Kashmir region is devoid of basic progress compared to the rest of the country. You wouldn't find modern cars, branded clothing, retail chains, extended electronics, comprehensive bookstores – people everywhere have aspirations and Kashmiris have them too, and they are denied. There are very few banks or ATMs outside of Srinagar, prepaid cellphones aren't allowed by law, and I'm surprised at the number of people who ask me what time it is when I walk on the roads – the people are basically poor, largely due to stymied trade which could develop markets and an economy.

The "Kashmir problem" is purely political, of course. And probably the solution is simple – let Kashmir be. I wonder if a referendum means anything either. People like Abdul, the guy who struggles with less than 20% occupancy of his hotel even in summer months, or the shikara owner, who hardly gets his ends to meet by manually navigating boats (it's real hardwork, I can tell you by experience) with dwindling traffic, or Irshad, the guy who climbs up and down the hills and doesn't understand education beyond "graduation" which he hopes to do someday, or Amarjeet, the 55 year old man who runs a 1-room shabby dhaba slightly away from the touristy area in Pahalgam and manages two meals a day with difficulty – I wonder if any of those people would care about their nationality, identity, faith, or anything beyond letting them be at peace.

Kashmir is an "issue" which select people wouldn't want to kill. And collectively, what we are doing to the mother nature in its most beautiful form can be described by the filthiest of words - gangrape.

Abdul tells me that the markets will open up in the evening by 4:30 - 5:00, and I decide to go back again, shop a bit, and spend a lazy evening by the lake. Buses will be operational again tomorrow, and people here will move on with their lives, thanking that the "Independence Day" is over.


[Addendum]

The markets didn't open up in the evening either, but the medical shops, sweet shops and restaurants opened – the latter, probably to cater to the Roza keepers. I ended up at Aadoo's, another restaurant in the recommendation list, and tried the Mirchi Qurma (I had Gushtaba on my mind, but the waiter suggested against it.)  Goes without saying, I ended up stuffing myself yet again, and couldn't resist the temptation to eat another phirni either. It's just so damn delicious!




Friday, August 01, 2008

Email Forwards

Forwarded mails are an interesting phenomena I've always been intrigued with. You receive those long emails, chained ones, wherein you can see the exact trail of how many IT industry offices the mail has traveled through before reaching you! They are great in the sense that you receive them from the most oblivious of people. One fine day, you check your mails, and there is a forward (rather a Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: Fwd:) from someone you least expected would drop you a message. A good thing, I must say, to at least maintain the illusion of keeping in touch in this everyone-is-connected-and-no-one-is-in-touch world.

And the messages themselves are quite interesting ones! One of them actually mentioned why the guy sending me is a great friend of mine because he at least bothered to send me a forward when he didn't have time to write a personalized message, while making me realize with those funny cartoons inserted in between, how emotionless I'm to lose contact. Partially true, I must agree. Majority of others I receive are photographs from here and there, sometimes quite funny ones, sometimes just beautiful. The most hated ones are those which claim to bring good luck if I forward them in turn to ten or twenty more, and to bring extremely harsh luck if I don't. Decent ones are those which have a collection of quotes, or anecdotes, or bearable jokes. Here's one of them which came to me about twenty one rules in life:

Rule 1:
Give people more than they expect and do it cheerfully.

Rule 2:
Marry a man/woman you love to talk to. As you get older, their conversational skills will be as important as any other.

Rule 3:
Don't believe all you hear, spend all you have or sleep all you want.

Rule 4:
When you say, 'I love you', mean it.

Rule 5:
When you say, 'I'm sorry', look the person in the eye.

Rule 6:
Be engaged at least six months before you get married.

Rule 7:
Believe in love at first sight.

Rule 8:
Never laugh at anyone's dreams. People who don't have dreams don't have much.

Rule 9:
Love deeply and passionately. You might get hurt but it's the only way to live life completely.

Rule 10:
In disagreements, fight fairly. No name calling.

Rule 11:
Don't judge people by their relatives.

Rule 12:
Talk slowly but think quickly.

Rule 13:
When someone asks you a question you don't want to answer, smile and ask, 'Why do you want to know?'

Rule 14:
Remember that great love and great achievements involve great risk.

Rule 15:
Say 'bless you' when you hear someone sneeze.

Rule 16:
When you lose, don't lose the lesson.

Rule 17:
Remember the three R's: Respect for self; Respect for others; and Responsibility for all your actions.

Rule 18:
Don't let a little dispute injure a great friendship.

Rule 19:
When you realize you've made a mistake, take immediate steps to correct it.

Rule 20:
Smile when picking up the phone. The caller will hear it in your voice.

Rule 21:
Spend some time alone.


Nice ones, eh? ;)



Thursday, October 04, 2007

Placements, IIMs et al

If you "analyse it objectively", you can conclude that there are only two things in the life of any run-of-the-mill IIM grad - "summers" and "finals". Both these are celebrated as festivals and are the sole reaps targeting which we spend sleepless nights in studying.

IIMs are less of academic institutions, they are "glorified placement agencies" in essence, and you hardly come to learn, you come to get placed! Given this level of importance to the process, we have two official placement seasons, "summer placements" for first year students and "final placements" for second year students. Both the gala ceremonies have an equal importance with same number of companies fighting to recruit candidates. Within two weeks after admission process completes in an IIM, the preparations for the "festivals" start off. CV building, targeting big-shot companies and booming sectors and finally, "returns". Placement rules are more sacred than all religious practices of the world put together, and deviations, which might have been tolerable by God, are not tolerated here.


My suicide attempts of trying internships on my own failed with the expiry of the Placement Committee's "guilt free pass" (the pass reads as - you are granted a limited period boon to try and do any off-campus kill-yourself thing without the Gods being infuriated). I'd managed positive responses from a rare few, and most of the HRs had "ditched" me, "dumped" me, and that too with the worst possible break-up line - "Hope you can find yourself a good company that will give you a useful exposure". As if, someone is really waiting for me to expose oneself!

As the "festivals" back at K would take off, I'd join the "single and looking" band for that one fool who'd hire me for two months hoping I might turn useful. ;)




Thursday, August 09, 2007

The frosted glass

Something seems to be going against the natural. I am being taught to divide life - into grids. And its being blatantly preached with such simplicity as if the world has always been like this, in a two-by-two matrix. It started off with a minor discomfort, theories to divide businesses into grids. Moved on to a more disastrous idea of dividing problems and solutions into grids. Consequently followed division of the population - they named it segmentation. And they didn't stop. Our "education" seemed to be incomplete without including the outrageous ideas of dividing personalities... I'd rather use the direct term than the metaphor - dividing "humans" into grids.

The system thus goes on. After all, you must learn this "art" to secure your 14th storey office in an uptown location (By the way, "I LOVE NY" is a common phrase on T-shirts of "humans" studying here). Find out what characterizes him: "high" on this, "low" on this. Pat, here's your chance to spot the "opportunity". "Target" that, encash that, you are suddenly the winner. Applause.




Its been a mixed experience in terms of my own life in the past one and a half months since I am here. Its a good feeling when you observe that your parents have a sense of proud because you are here. Friends have a reason to bask in glory; juniors have reasons to ping you up in the hope of some tips which might just work. Your own demeanour changes when you walk on the roads in other cities with that IIMK T-shirt.

The other half - I'm slowly learning how to be a programmed machine integrated with time-management functionalities so as to generate maximum possible outcome. I learnt DC++ usage so that I can search for sunrise pics on the network - the sunrise which nobody here would see in their two years' stay and which is always covered by others' cameras. I learnt to repeatedly boast of the natural beauty of the place to friends on phone, though I myself experienced it just once with that Kappad trip in the initial days. When I sometimes feel to drown into alcohol on weekends (its a different story that the time never permits you), it goes against my own old-days preachings - people drink not because they want to ward off trouble, its rather to have good times with friends. Everything is too artificial from all perspectives, I'm learning to pretend to be happy.

It rains for almost half of the year in Kerala. And I am dying to get drenched...

Too much of a pessimist I am, huh?




Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Are you searching for a reason to be kind?

Following is a song by A.R. Rahman sung for Nokia India's charity project 'Pray for me, brother' which is the UN Theme song for poverty alleviation mission.



Below is the lyrics. Notice the texts in bold. I found them to be the most poignant.

Pray For Me Brother (2007)
Composed by A.R.Rahman
Lyrics by Blaaze
Singers: A.R.Rahman and Blaaze

Pray for me brother
Pray for me brother
Pray for me sister
Are you searchin’….
Pray for me brother

Lookin’ for the answers To all the questions In my life
Will I be alone Will you be there By my side
Is it something he said Is it something he did
I wonder why He is searchin’ For the answers
To stay alive

Could you ever listen Could you ever care
To speak your mind
Only for a minute For only one moment
In time

The joy is around us But show me the love
That we must find
Are you searchin’ For a reason to be kind, to be kind…
He said… Pray for me brother

Pray for me brother Pray for me sister
Pray for me brother Say
what you wanna say now
But keep your hearts open
Be what you wanna be now
Let’s heal the confusion
Pray for me brother

Don’t let me take When you don’t wanna give
Don’t be afraid Just let me live
Don’t let me take When you don’t wanna give
Don’t be afraid Say what you wanna say now
But keep your hearts open

Be what you wanna be now Let’s heal the confusion
Pray for me brother Pray for me brother
I’m ashamed ah, brother be dying of poverty
when he down on his knees its only then he prays
And it’s a shame ah, brother be dying of ignorance
cos the world is a trip and everybody’s a hypocrite
Need to stop ah , taking a look at the other
I’m not ashamed of poverty
need to be making his life better
So think about it, think about it once more
cos life is a blessing and it’s not justa show, ah
Round and round the world is spinning around

We need to be singing a prayer, we need to be singing it now
Round and round the world is turning around
We need to be singing a prayer, we need to be singing it now
Need to be feeling the power, need to be feeling the faith
We need to coming together just to win this race

Need to be feeling the power, need to be feeling the faith
We need to coming together just to win this race (twice)
Are you searching for a reason to be kind?



Monday, November 06, 2006

"Enigma"tic Night

Sometimes, time forces you to be the biggest hypocrite in the world. Your "self" preaches you good old ethics, you tend to think otherwise.

It was just like any other weekend. We decided to stop-by to have a couple of drinks at a pub after a few hours of frenzy shopping at Marathalli.



Koramangala's "Enigma" served us much more than alcohol on this eventful evening. For the usual "me" - the table opposite to a teenage couple was a complete paisa-wasool. Forty five minutes of the passionate "show" was reason enough to feel more than contented compared to the small bill. They were drinking... the hugs and kisses followed. Combining that with the scene created near the loo - all created an atmosphere enough like a movie.

The ethical "worm" inside pestered me with digressive thoughts. Is this India? Their actions were proofs enough that they are going to end up between the sheets. An unmarried couple barely in their teens, drinking their brains out and smooching at 11 in a pub - where's the culture?

And above all is my hypocrisy! I can preach the closest of my friends for 5 hours that this is wrong. And yet, I enjoyed the "show". A part of me would sing along - "Koi maalamaal hai, koi tanghaal hai..." and another would still lament - "Dekh teri duniyaa ki haalat kya ho gayi bhagwaan, kitna badal gaya..."




Friday, September 01, 2006

Searching solace in solitude

Dissatisfaction is one trait ingrained in humans. Its strange how a man craves for solitude (calling it "some space") when surrounded by people, but seeks company when left alone. Happiness seems to be an alien species on a non-understandable planet called life. Various identification-attempts of the species serve as alibis for various sections of people who tend to explain it differently. Happiness in solitude is often related with an abstract attainment - given the name eternity or divinity by certain sects. Happiness in normal life is mostly identified with the surroundings. A man is "happy" if things and people around him are. The previous sect would reject this perspective as "temporary" or "worldly".



Whichever school of thought you subscribe to, remaining happy is a mammoth task. Whichever excuse you provide yourself as a reason for being happy, on a wider perspective of heart and truth, everything boils down as artificial. A peaceful mind and a contented heart constitute that elusive combination which every man craves for. Only the rarest of mankind actually achieve it.




Saturday, February 11, 2006

Concept of God

William F. Buckley, Jr, founder of the National Review magazine says - "It is intellectually easier to credit a divine intelligence than to submit dumbly to felicitous congeries about nature."

Is that the reason why some people believe and some don't on the existence of a supreme power? For a few, it might qualify as a nice excuse to actually run away from the rhetoric counter-point used in such debates - "Hey, look at the stars and tell me how these arrangements could have existed without anything?" For any tangible object in this world, this camp would point to the inspiration towards its making rather than the creation itself. Beethoven's compositions, Leonardo's masterpieces... do all these exist because something else exists which inspired the physical being towards extraordinary works? I disagree.

I am not being solipsistic. There is much more beyond the self. But why should we move beyond the world? The scriptures state that the Reality is beyond the ken of the senses and the mind. Then why bother about it? There is enough one can do within the realm of 'senses and mind' and within this world itself. The problem starts when you try to define Reality. For some, it is God in a definite form or shape, for me, it is what we live in.

Chanting verses like the Gayatri Mantra and contemplating on the Absolute with meditations, wouldn't that have been a waste of time for Beethoven and Leonardo da Vinci? I am not a hard core nihilist. Religious rituals and practices are merely different means of one's share of solitude. But, exaggeragte that into a necessary and only path to achieve oneness with the Supreme, and you are moving away from yourself. You lost the very purpose of solitude.

This I believe : There is no need of a God for my present existence on this planet.



Tuesday, March 15, 2005

Recent movies & comments

Sometimes I watch a few movies which might feel obscene to others. Yup! If you have gone by my profile, you might have seen entries like 'American Beauty', but as far as I think, what's the big deal? I don't recommend nudity, but movies like these are pure fun! And if you think they aren't, then you are of the type who won't even enjoy that great series called FRIENDS. I mean, OK its not at all about plain sex, but its simply far better an entertainer than some other typos. I just finished off with a similar one - 'American Pie'. Its again about friends, virginity and all college entertainment; but of course, not at all nudity. If you can't enjoy works like 'The Girl Next Door' or 'Replikate', then that's not my problem dear!



Monday, February 21, 2005

The world for me



Reassuring : When I sit with my friends
Beautiful : When I was in love
Desirous : When I visit my village
Indifferent : When I am drunk
Different : Everyday
Exhaustive : Before exams
Difficult : During exams
Deceitful : Sometimes
Marvellous : Rarely
Exciting : On tours
Peaceful : When I stroll in the moonlight
Exhilarating : When I drench in the rain
Rejuvenating : During festivals
Strange : ALWAYS