What you do for a living?

I was on a short trip in connection with some academic work. It happened to be a town on the seashore and quite accidentally I stumbled upon a cottage on the shore at throwaway rent. Listening to the waves humming and crashing alternately just about 100 ft from your feet throughout the night is a spiritual experience. I had a blissful three day/nights and came back totally revived. But that is not what I was about to say.

Here was the 'owner' of the cottage - a man who controlled cable TV operations in that area, undertook contracts for civil works and in his own words 'dabbled in politics for safety'. An extra ordinary (please do not read as extraordinary) chap who could easily be missed in a lonely street!! He rides a cycle for commitments nearby, a weather beaten motorcycle everywhere else and owns three cars. Usually wears a plain white cotton shirt over a well worn pants that could have been purchased anytime after he started wearing pants. He never seeks to sit while talking to you and prefers to stand in a corner with hands folded like a humble domestic help. Incidentally, you do not get such 'humble domestic help' even in India any more!! While describing the local political situation, he displayed his excellent sense of humor - 'if you look up to politicians as great men who will change your destiny, you will only get heart attacks. Look at them as street comedians who have come to entertain you for five years and you will get a life time of laughter'. 'And free', he added for emphasis.

Then what about your political clout? I asked him.

'That is for safety, sir, safety', he laughed. Then asked me as to what do I do for a living.

As a matter of fact, particularly in the recent past, even I haven't thought about such a serious question - what do I do for a living? I became pensive, thinking hard and long as to what do I actually do. He waited patiently, perhaps expecting me to say that the last time the Tsunami struck India, it was me who was readjusting the tactonic plates or some such thing big. After a long wait, I told him that I write.

He looked at me without any expression first. Then he gestured the act of writing on paper with his hand. Looking at me quizzically now, asked, 'you write?'.

I said 'yes'.

'I understand' he said. 'Some people do take a long time to learn to read and worse, to write'. Adding on a consoling tone, he further said, ' do you know that I never bothered? So what if I cannot read or write. I do make a decent living. Nothing to worry, sir, nothing to worry'.

It was my turn to go further blank at his next question. 'So how much do you earn by writing?'

'Well, ok, that a few friends manage to read what I write and hopefully like it (for most of them choose not to say anything, perhaps for fear of hurting my fragile mind). It doesn't fetch anything, I tell you. I just get along by God's grace', I told him.

He shook his head in sympathy and asked me to pay only half the specified rent for the cottage.

I do not know whether writing pays or not. But I can tell you it can reduce your room rent by half. Have fun, write your heart out...   

For all those who hate science....

Reading a book that has been sent by a friend for review, I came across a statement he made: "Love is chemistry and attraction is magnetism". I was wondering if love is chemistry and attraction magnetism, can there be anyone in this world who can say he hates science?

My own experience suggests that this chemistry and magnetism can at times result in economics, biology, physics (please do not read it as anything else) and as the years go by, history. Who says physical sciences are distinctly different from social science and humanities!! I recall an instance when chemistry turned into athletics and spirituality.

Mohan (my FPG some thirty years before) and me walked into Kamaths wanting to catch up on breakfast. I took a seat facing the hotel's entrance and Mohan sat opposite but at an angle to me. We finished our dosas and called for the inevitable coffee when a young woman (don't expect me to say handsome. Perhaps this story wouldn't have happened otherwise) came to sit in the table behind Mohan, facing me. Mohan and me had a penchant for engaging in intense debates and I was loading my next torpedo into the tube in my mind when this young thing happened. The torpedo stuck in the tube and before long even I realized that I was ogling. Women in any case know it intuitively when someone ogles at them and here she hardly needed her intuition. And, in the processes of freezing on my tracks on my top floor, I had made a fatal mistake. I did not notice that she was accompanied by her father.

Realizing that I was 'stuck' and sensing the trouble rising behind him (literally!!!), suddenly Mohan got up, seized my elbow and before I blinked, paid out the bill in the counter, pushed me into the street and goaded me to pick up pace. It is only when we turned the corner and were well on our way back to the room that I realized that Mohan had actually saved my skin.

From chemistry to athletics to spirituality, reflecting on this 'history', I realize that sciences, humanities and spirituality are inseparable. No man can ever say with certainty that they are separate from our own lives irrespective of our likes and dislikes for a subject. Did someone say he or she still hates science?

Think again!!!     

World Cup is not just about football....

“Let their feet rule your heart” proclaimed the headlines in Time of India. Yes, the World Cup in Sao Paulo literally kicked off to run amuck in our heart. Scolari’s expressive antics, Neymar’s impressive two goals, Oscar’s dream run to give Brazil its third goal – every single one of them made you dance on your feet. Marcelo’s OG (own goal)…produced guffas in the stadium and his naïve looks after the even and the goal keeper’s understanding pat on his back will remain one of the memorable and humorous incidents in World Cup 2014.

But what actually touched my heart most happened 10182 miles away to the east of Sao Paulo. Lt Gen Chatudom Titahsiri, Head of the army run Channel 5 in Thailand said “Happiness for the whole country is more important than money” after the military junta ruling Thailand decided to broadcast World Cup matches free of charge!!

Years before, a friend of mine taught me a valuable lesson “when you love someone or something, show it in small deeds. Osho, one of the most profound intellects to have walked this earth also said that it is passion that defines your thirst for truth, not renunciation. The person who wrote the headlines in Times of India and the Thai general both have just proved this right. When you give your heart to what you seek, you receive two bounties: first, you live; second, you achieve.

Do not forget to switch off the drudgery of your life when you can and watch World Cup 2014. It is not just football. It has many wonderful lessons for life. Happy watching and happy living!!!   

All for a pinch of salt....

In the early hours of today, 06 June, seventy years before thousands of young men stared at the approaching beachheads in Normandy. The weather had turned foul and their commanders knew that it was too late to turn back. The landings had to proceed as ordered. They also knew that the Germans were prepared to welcome them with murderous fire. The invasion fleet was drawn from eight different navies, comprising 6,939 vessels: 1,213 warships, 4,126 landing craft of various types, 736 ancillary craft, and 864 merchant vessels. There were 195,700 naval personnel involved. (source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Normandy_landings)

At 0630h, The American Second Army began landing on Omaha beach. The beach was taken, lost and retaken twice during the day with over 9387 American service men giving their lives for it. The history of the world was re-written by the sacrifices of these men. President Obama, paying tributes to these men today at Normandy described the Omaha as "Democracy's Beach", to the cheers and tears of thousands of French and American veterans who had gathered to observe the day. He was right when he said that these men had come to protect the liberty of people whom they had never met. And a grateful France remembers them and honors their graves as its own children's. President Obama also paid glowing tributes to the British, Canadian, Australian and New Zealand troops who co-wrote world history on that day.

While the American soldiers in Normandy were writing history with their sacrifice, elsewhere in West Asia, Africa, Germany, Italy and the Far East, two and a half million Indian soldiers had already created history for the British Empire. 87000 Indians gave their life to "protect the liberty of people whom they never knew" - in President Obama's words. India contributed 1200 million Pound Sterling to the British war effort, apart from paying for all the British, Indian, American and other 'foreign' forces stationed on Indian soil to fight the Japanese and to assist the Chinese. The hidden cost to India was even more - take for example 1.8 million tons of wood (mostly saal) from Indian forests that was used by Britain for army purposes all over the world or even the 400 miles of railway tracks taken out with their wooden sleepers for relaying in West Asia and Africa for the British campaign. India which started with just 350 million USD 'debt' to Britain in 1939 had USD 1.92 billion in debt at the end of the war!! History is witness to the truth that the Allied victory would not have been possible but for the huge sacrifices that India made, albeit as a 'slave' of the Empire.

Despite the truly selfless sacrifice of Indians in the war that is being described today as the war for liberty and democracy in Europe, it is sad that not a word has been said about those valiant Sikhs, Gorkhas, Rajputs, Madrasis, Mahrattas and Bengalis who are buried in the sands of time. These men, poor peasant children from humble backgrounds in India, are neither heroes like those Americans in their native land; they were not considered saviors of mankind for they were from a 'colony'; they are forgotten in their own land for they died far away.

But, they were men of a great culture were the code of honor is held above even life. They were the children of great warriors like Ashoka, Akbar, Guru Teg Bahadur, Maharana Pratap Singh, Balaji Baji Rao II, Rani of Jhansi, Tantya Tope, Rani Mangamma, Veera Pandia Katta Bomman, Marudu Brothers, Tipu Sultan, and Birsa Munda - whose very names represent the great martial traditions that India is home to. They gave their life, voluntarily and smiling, for they had had a pinch of salt on which they had taken a pledge for their colonial masters. For that pinch of salt, they broke their culture by going overseas; for that pinch of salt, they fought like fiery devils; for that pinch of salt, they gave their lives.

They continue to be, wherever they are, unheard-unsung-unknown, all for a pinch of salt. 

Happy parenting....

It is the summer break for the kids and three of my nephews, aged 9, 10,and 12, dropped in to spend a week with us. Both of our own kids (!) were out and that made the age composition of the gathering a bit wonky. One 82, one 73, one 53, one 50 and of course the three arrivals!! We were smug with the confidence, having raised two of our own, that handling these three would be child's play - at least that's what we thought. While a full blown book would be in order, just a couple of instances would suffice to prove that we have miles to go before we can be confident enough to feel so smug:

Scene 1: As I came upstairs to our room, I saw the young mister 9 holding his towel around his waist, standing 'statue' in front of the bath. "What happened? Are you not going in for a bath?" I asked. Without turning his head, he raised his little finger and slowly pushed it through the gap between the wall and the door. "Cockroach" he said softly. My next thirty minutes were spent chasing a rogue cockroach through ten thousand crevasses and hill sides (at least that is how the cockroach behaved)....Mind you, mister 9 had also told me in his soft voice not to kill the roach. So I had to chase, catch and export him across our garden before mister nine consented to pour two mugs of water on himself. When I entered the house after successfully exporting the roach, and panting and perspiring in the burning heat of Chennai, the 50, 73 and 82 had the laugh of their lives !!!

Scene 2: Having somehow managed them at home through the day [courtesy the three musketeers who happily chomped their their way through packets of potato chips, I had watched without much choice of course, Tom & Jerry, Gods Must Be Crazy, Haunting and Conjuring - all in a row!!!], we decided to take them out to a bakery joint. The three were out of the car and into the joint even before my wife and I locked the car and entered. Mister 9 had also decided that all three of them will have only masala potato fingers - just because that was the brightest ad displayed at the entrance. The attendant helpfully told me that the potato fingers would be freshly made on order. So order we did, and waited. At the risk of a commodore's stare from my better half, I asked mister 9 "there are hundreds of items here, should you have ordered the potato fingers that would take time?" The youngster simply told me "that is what we want to eat". Fine, okay, let us wait. A round of pastries, patties and cold coffee later, when the potato fingers finally arrived, the young mister 9 looked up and said "see, it was worth the wait, don't you agree?" When did I say I had a choice to disagree?

Scene 3: It had to happen. Mister 12 took mister 10 with the promise of teaching him how use a cycle. The mercury was helpfully at 42 C and even the crows and cows (all humans too except the mentioned) hid themselves wherever shade was to be found. My wife was rustling up lunch and suddenly there was a shriek. Mister 9 ran out and ran in to announce that mister 10 had managed to fall from the cycle. The skin around one knee was neatly peeled and down on the foot, there were two marble sized nicks. I picked up the wailing mister 10,  put him into my car and rushed him to our doctor who was, fortunately, only few hundred meters away. As the nicks and cuts were dressed, the shrieks could be heard for miles away. I was only thanking the stars that there was no lady admitted for delivery in the clinic. Had one been, she would delivered without even a sigh!!! The wounded and 'dressed' mister 10 came home to a welcome reserved only for war heroes, from mister 9 & 12!! Having done his dressing at home twice thereafter, my wife tells me that I have managed to learn to shriek well myself....

Oh, to say that bringing them up is easy...well, not me,,,I never said....in case you think it is, I can only wish you good luck. But then, there is something I must say: parenting is the most beautiful experience of life. There are no perfect parents. There can, however, be unfortunate parents - those who never realise that loving their children is the key to good parenting. Accepting their children for what they are, loving them, standing by them, supporting them, teaching them to enjoy small moments and small things....well these are the rewards. Elsewhere in my blog, I have quoted a poem by Khalil Gibran. I strongly recommend that we must reflect upon the meaning of that poem.      

I have the power....

Every time He-Man wants to take on an enemy, he rises up his hands and proclaims "I have the power". The rickshawallah, coolie, illeterate agricultural labour and street vendors of India became He-Man on 16 May 2014. They raised their hands in unison and proclaimed that THEY HAVE THE POWER. Stunning, stupefying and blowing to smithereens a government that had held sway over their destinies for ten long years. Good, bad and the ugly - all of them - lock, stock and barrel - who were smug in the belief that the illiterate average Indian was happy listening to the stock song of caste, community and personal mud slinging - were routed beyond belief. The voter has proved that however high and mighty a politician be, voter is king!! This is not just a political victory for a party, it is the most authentic demonstration that PEOPLE are the actual power in a democracy.

There are quite a few note-worthy achievements in the General Elections of 2014:

1. Held over 09 phases, in 900000 polling booths across the country to enable 814 million people who are eligible to vote. There simply is no parallel anywhere else in the world and we are confident that this is one area that China would not like to compete with India.

2. 1647 Parties (national/regional/recognised/registered) directly participating and/or involved in the mammoth effort to reach every section of the populace. The second biggest democracy, USA, has just 02 Parties. We have one for every 700000 population on an average!!

3. Over 8100 candidates were in the fray for 543 seats.

4. The average turn out till now has varied between 56 - 63% from 1952 onwards. Some places like the North East had over 83% turn out for voting. Surprisingly, the 'kurukshetra' of elections UP, showed the lowest turn out at 55%.

5. 100 million new voters this time - all in the 18-20 age group. Young India was actually having a say.

6. Introduced for the first time, NOTA (None of The Above) option in the EVM, upheld by the Hon'ble Supreme Court, grossed 1.1% of the vote share. Can you believe that this is more than what the Communist Party of India (CPI) and Janata Dal United (JDU) polled together!! This is the voice of people against corrupt local politicians. Hope political parties, both victorious and vanquished, take note.

7. The mandate given to Chief Ministers of Tamil Nadu, Odisha and West Bengal are also interesting. Strong functioning State Chief Ministers have been preferred by people and the usual 'anti-incumbency' factor is missing. Not that these CMs are without their share of corruption/other scandals but their thumping victory is testimony to the peoples preference for governments that deliver. It appears that people want strong and functioning governments; they are fed up with ineptitude and empty talk on peripheral issues. Even BJP victory becomes easily comprehensible when viewed from this perspective.

On the whole, a historic episode with profound impact on peoples lives. The heroes likely to remain unsung of this story are not actually the politicians who contested/lost or the citizens who have made their choices. It is the Chief Election Commissioner of India and his deputies/assistants and the millions of school teachers, revenue officials, policemen and other support staff who have conducted the biggest exercise of democracy in human history till date without a single glitch, incident or unsavoury interruption. They  not merely need to be complemented on their humongous achievement but merit the gratitude of the entire nation as well from the proponents and advocates of democracy elsewhere in the world. CEC, we salute you!!     

Nigerian Nightmare...

In the years following 2005, there used to be a popular term for emails announcing that someone has won GBP 1000000 and all they have to do is contact either a given number or email to the given address - the Nigerian mail. Those who were investigating cyber crime as well as the victims of such mail used to shudder at the ingenuity with which scores of people got duped into paying hundreds of thousand bucks for the victims avarice. No one knows whether Nigerians were the originators of such fraud but the name stuck.

Nigeria is famous again - this time courtesy Boko Haram. Kidnapping of girl children from school is nothing new. Dozens of dirty organisations have done such things before. But consider this:

1. News reports suggest that these girls are being sold for $12. The world has just been told on World Mothers Day that this is the worth of our mothers, sisters and girl children set by Boko Haram.

2. Thousands of children across Nigeria have been withdrawn from school by their parents. Boko Haram has just ensured that Nigeria's young generation are pushed towards the dark ages of illiteracy and subsequent unemployment and poverty.

3. The world governments, AU, EU and the government of Nigeria are still scratching their head as to what to in the face of such brutal, inhuman and scruple-less act of Boko Haram - as though the world has not seen enough to decide swift and decisive action. Yugoslavia, Rwanda, Sudan, Sierra Leone, Chad, Liberia and Cambodia actually are history and we have a penchant for reading history only from our arm chairs.

4. As the world keeps twiddling its fingers, Boko Haram continues to get its arms supplies and financial back up from unknown sources. Dozens of arms manufacturers around the world and illegal financiers are minting their money. Few hundred more girls being added to the thousands of already vandalised-and-sold-into-prostitution women do not make any difference to them. Nor do they make any difference to those countries that facilitate exporting of those arms or are the conduits for the black money.

At the end of it all, we can be rest assured that ten-twenty years hence there would be an international tribunal for Nigeria and leaders of Boko Haram (who may well be on their natural way to their graves) would be sentenced to 150 years in prison. Countries would contribute monies to hold the tribunal and subsequently house the imprisoned. Lawyers on either side would also have earned their due out of the legal process. A jubilant world will observe that the end of international justice has been served well and that now there are more immutable precedences for offences against women during hostile conditions. Everyone will be happy.

In the mean time, the girls abducted by Boko Haram would have begotten their children out of their captivity with Boko Haram. Growing up in a country that fears to send its children to school and finding that their poverty is so oppressing, they may fall prey to taking up arms. They may perpetuate what Boko Haram has as yet left undone.

The Nigerian Nightmare....Hello world...anyone listening? How about doing something to stop the nightmare turning into reality?

PS: Looks like I must start writing scripts for movies. It might help me to get money to buy history books and an arm chair.