COUNTERPOISE

For something to be born, something has to die,
For someone to be happy, someone has to cry.
Is the Nature thus in a perfect balance,
Giving each emotion an equal chance?
The flood is balanced by the drought,
Sadness within has happiness without.

Are we then parts of a whole,
Fragments of a common soul?
In pensive mood, should we search for our other half,
Who would, through our tears, make us laugh?

NURTURING INDIA’S MARITIME MILITARY RESURGENCE

The British, when they ruled India, were circumspect in giving Indians any significant role in maritime matters. It is because, Britain being a maritime power, ruled over many parts of the world through the effective use of its navy. It had realized the importance of the Indian Ocean Region (IOR) and considered the Indian Ocean as its own “private lake”. Not many of our countrymen care to remember that we were subjugated by the British because we neglected naval power, even though at one time in history (the Cholas, Pandyas, and Vijaynagar kingdoms), we were a significant maritime power. Indeed, many won’t remember that at one point in history the RIN (the precursor of the Indian Navy) was the ‘senior’ service (having been raised before the Army and the Air Force). But then, the British decided to write off the Navy rather than pass on the ‘power’ to the Indians whom they considered “never having a maritime bent of mind”.

This statement was not altogether true since at one time India was a maritime power though we did not have maritime military ambitions. India had a substantial share of global trade and spread religion and culture through its maritime prowess. However, the British cunning in denying us any say in maritime matters resulted in our being content with our “sea blindness”. This is despite the fact that post independence we took several steps to acquire a three-dimensional, blue water navy.

Indian history, therefore, is replete with our leaders’ lack of strategic vision. In this, perhaps the area most lacking is maritime military strategic sense. As a result, it is often left to the naval strategic planners to do what the national leadership should have been doing. When I joined the Indian Navy, I was surprised to know that the GoI had not laid down any Roles and Missions for the Indian Navy. It was left to the Indian Navy to evolve these on its own. It is only recently that the Navy published its Doctrine and Maritime Strategy; assuming that the GoI’s silence on the same is to be read as acceptance in principle (AIP). Similarly, four years back, the Navy came up with MCPP or Maritime Capability Perspective Plan to seek the government’s AIP to resize the Navy against not just current and emerging threats but in keeping with the maritime capability that the nation desires to keep pace with India’s buoyant economy, assisted by 94 percent of its trade moving over the seas. The area of responsibility of the Indian Navy that was limited to the primary area of northern Indian Ocean comprising Arabian Sea and the Bay of Bengal got extended from the Mediterranean to China Sea. Indian Navy, in keeping with this extended responsibility, was the first one to rescue its people during the Lebanon crisis of Jul 2006 (Op Sukoon). The Indian Navy also realised that the hub-and-spokes mode of its operations (originating from an Indian port such as Mumbai and returning to the same) would have to be modified; it thus sought and obtained OTR (Operational Turn Round) facilities at a dozen ports in Africa, East and West Asia.

Globalisation is a primarily a maritime phenomenon. It is because 90 percent of the global trade moves over the seas. Navies have various roles to play. Whilst their primary role is during War, there are a number of peace-time roles such as Deterrence (especially nuclear), Securing SLOCs (Sea Lanes of Communications), HADR (Humanitarian Assistance & Disaster Relief), SAR (Search & Rescue), and furthering diplomatic objectives. After the sad years of 1980s when our sea-blindness was more pronounced than in any other recent decade, the Indian Navy planned to become a true four-dimensional navy capable of multifarious roles. MCPP enabled it to build these capabilities. The ATV project culminated in the commissioning of Arihant last year, which is undergoing trials since then. That would complete the nuclear capability triad that India had envisaged.

All these are on course. However, incidents in the past have kept us from realising the full potential of our maritime military capabilities. I shall refer to three of these to bring out the damage caused by our knee-jerk reactions.

The first one is our response to 26/11 attack on Mumbai in 2008 that not only resulted in 166 deaths but also held India’s financial capital to ransom for more than two days. Even as Pakistan government denied any involvement in the attack, Pakistan Naval Chief, in a much publicised television interview, took the Indian Navy to task for not having done enough to ward off such threats from the sea. Our government, polity and our media too conveniently chose to forget that navies are not the primary instruments to guard against such incidents.

By the promulgation of Maritime Zones of India Act 1976, we had declared varying jurisdiction over waters around the coast. The primary one is that up to 12 nautical miles around our coastline is our declared territorial sea. This means that the sovereignty of India and the reach of its internal laws extend over this. You don’t require the navies to enforce these; just as, if there is a terrorist executed cycle bomb explosion in, say, Jaipur, you don’t call the mechanised infantry to guard the city (own territory) against it. However, the GoI, in its wisdom, chose to make the Indian Navy responsible for the Coastal Security in India; making it the only leading Navy in the world to be so encumbered. Hence, post 26/11, the Indian Navy got involved in such tasks as making a census of fishermen, boats and jetties in the nine coastal states. The situation was the same post 1993 Mumbai attacks when Dawood Ibrahim & co. shifted all the arsenal for the blasts via the sea. The India Navy was mired to get involved in coastal patrolling called Operation Swan along the Saurashtra and Maharashtra coasts; which it has only recently handed over to the Marine Police, Customs and the Coast Guard whose responsibility it should have been in the first place.

Navies in advanced countries are tasked to further the objectives of the foreign policy and shape the environment in which they function (such is explicitly mentioned in the Maritime Strategy of India, a document now in public domain). It is because the navies operate almost invariably in international waters. Powerful countries like the United States have aligned various arms of the government to further the nation’s interests. Even China has realised this and taken steps to do so. Not in India though. Various arms of Indian government staunchly preserve their turf. In February 2008, therefore, even when the Indian Navy came up with the highly successful Indian Ocean Naval Symposium (IONS) so as to involve naval hierarchies of IOR littoral nations in track II diplomacy, our own MEA ignored and boycotted it and let it be known through a number of articles by retired diplomats and others that the navy should stick to military issues leaving the diplomacy entirely to foreign service. We have this Nehruvian aversion towards involving the armed forces in any decision making; but, we have no aversion about getting them mired in such issues that the other arms of the government are responsible for but fail to deliver.

And finally, we woke up to the scourge of piracy. Earlier piracy was restricted to Malacca Straits. In the year 2002, India had escorted high value USN ships through these straits. This fell short of patrolling so as to respect the sentiments of the littoral states of the Straits. However, later, when piracy became quite virulent off Somalia Indian Navy was asked to “protect Indian interests” there. As it happened in the past, there was no clear cut government directive. Therefore, it was not understood how these interests could be best protected:

• Whether by protecting the cargo heading to and from Indian ports? In this case in 1998, Indian bottoms carried about 34 percent of this cargo but their share of carrying India’s exports and imports fell to merely 13 percent in 2007 (the neglect of our shipping sector by our government has resulted in this; but that is another story). If this cargo is to be protected, 87 percent of which is carried in foreign bottoms, how far out from Indian coast is this to be protected? Naturally, this is a mammoth task for as navy charged with responsibility of coastal security.

• Whether by protecting Indian bottoms? This is a relatively smaller number of about 900 ships. Once again we need to decide up to what range from the coast these need to be protected. It is not a war time situation requiring such stringent measures as convoys and escorts. It only calls for distant protection provided by the Indian Navy in SLOCs of our interest with the provision of on-call assistance. As I understand the Indian Navy has already promulgated SOPs to ships under pirate attacks and I believe these measures have brought some respite already.

• Whether by protecting Indians onboard? This again is a mammoth task considering that Indians may not be just passengers on board but also as crews even on foreign ships. The enormity of the task can be made out from the fact that it took the Indian government more than six months to seriously consider the release of Indian sailors on board MV Asphalt Venture, which was hijacked by the Somali pirates. Even after the ransom money was paid these sailors were not released in retaliation to Indian Navy’s very successful operations against the pirates that had resulted in the capture of more than 120 of them since the operations started in 2008.

Let me, therefore, end by mentioning just a few things. One, for news at sea, especially related to maritime terrorism, Indian media is almost totally dependent upon the foreign media and joins in the chorus of denigrating the Indian Navy without even realising the constraints under which our Navy works. Secondly, the nation needs to realise that the rapid strides that it is making economically increase the vulnerability of its maritime interests and energy sources. These need to be protected by a congruence of diplomatic, political, maritime, military, commercial, economic, and strategic means and measures rather than each one protecting its turf. And lastly, the government should realise that knee jerk reactions, as opposed to a well thought of strategy, would have their adverse fallouts elsewhere.

KAVITA KA CHAKKER

This post is devoted to a friend of mine who remarked to me that writing poems is as easy as twiddling thumbs and that he could give me a run for money. Here goes:

मनकोटिया जी अपने आप को कहते थे कवी,
एक दिन इसी बात पे झड़प बैठा रवि,
कहने लगा, “शायरी क्या है, कविता क्या है कुछ तो जानते हो,
के तुक्के को ही कविता का रूप मानते हो?”

“यारों पे व्यंग करने के और भी रास्ते हैं,
कई और साधन हास परिहास के वास्ते हैं,
इस लिए कविता पर ही क्यूँ अत्याचार करते हो,
अपना और दोस्तों का समय बर्बाद करते हो”

“कविता लिखने के लिए पेन पेपर सब कुछ है आपके पास,
लेकिन दिमाग में आपके भरी हुई है घास,
ऐसे दिमाग की प्रेरणा को गधे ही भा सकते हैं,
पड़ने के बाद कम से कम पेपर तो खा सकते हैं.”

“लिखना ही है तो मान लो मुझे अपना गुरु,
और मेरे निर्देशन में कविता लिखना करो शुरू,
खीर खाने के बहाने हमें घर पे बुलाया करो,
भाभी के हाथ के माल्पुरे खिलाया करो”

“पिक्चर और डिस्को हमें रोज़ ले जाया करो,
थक जाएँ तो हमारे पैर दबाया करो,
दो तीन महीने में आप कविता सीख जायेंगे,
और रवि को सब कवियों का राजा मान जायेंगे.”

Mankotia ji apne aap ko kehte the kavi,
Ek din issi baat pe jhadap baitha Ravi;
Kehne laga, “Shayari kya hai, kavita kya hai kuchh to jaante ho,
Ke tukke ko hi kavita ka roop maante ho?”

“Yaaron pe vayang karne ke aur bhi raaste hain,
Kyi aur saadhan haas parihaas ke vaaste hain.
Is liye kavita per hi kyun atyachaar karte ho,
Apna aur doston ka samay barbaad karte ho?”

“Kavita likhne ke liye pen paper sab kuchh hai aapke paas,
Lekin dimaag mein aapke bhari hui hai ghaas.
Aise dimaag ki prerna ko gadhe hi bha sakte hain,
Padne ke baad kam se kam kaagaz to kha sakte hain.”

“Likhna hi hai to aaj se maan lo mujhe apna guru,
Aur mere nirdeshan mein kavita likhna karo shuru;
Kheer khaane ke bahaane hamein ghar pe bulwaya karo,
Bhabhi ke haath ke maalpure khilwaya karo.”

“Picture aur disco hamein roz le jaaya karo,
Thak jaayen to hamare pair dabaya karo.
Do teen mahino mein aap kavita seekh jayago,
Aur Ravi ko sab kaviyon kaa raja maan jayoge.”

FOREIGN JAUNTS

Navy is a true international service; it is because most often than not it operates beyond 12 nautical miles of the coast and hence in international waters called the high seas. Our counterparts from the Army and the Air Force rarely leave the country whereas we do it on an everyday basis; in almost every sailing we leave the territorial limits of the country. I was conscious of it in my very first sailing as a cadet on the cruiser Delhi. At sea, when I looked around, it filled me with a strange thrill that the waters around me connected me as much to foreign lands as to India.

One World One Dream – At the Great Wall of China

Still, there is nothing like actually going abroad; one of the fringe benefits of joining the Navy. I remember the then Captain Nayyar, Commanding Officer (CO) of Indian Naval Ship (INS) Delhi, addressing the ship’s company before entering the port of Aden; my first foreign port. He said each one of us were the ambassadors of our great nation ashore and were expected to conduct ourselves likewise. I thought to myself: ‘What great luck to be called “Your Excellency” at the age of twenty-one’. Some of us accompanied the CO for luncheon at the Governor’s residence and felt like true ambassadors indeed.

With H.E. Sh. B. Jaishankar, High Commissioner of India

Our next cruise was to the port of Sabang in Indonesia. It was about 20 kms or so from the city of Balawan. This was where we imagined the fun to be. But, the problem that confronted us was how to reach there. With our meager resources we could not have hired a cab and we were not familiar with the bus routes. As we came out of the port we spotted a ‘tempo’ driven by a sardar. We thumbed a ride. As we sat with him in the front seats he got into a conversation with us about the ship. We showed off to him how the ship was fitted with the very latest in warfare and comfort. He was particularly keen to know about the conditions in the Engine Room. We told him that our Engine Room had the latest in air-conditioned luxury and had

Indian Navy officers at Cape of Good Hope

controls and sensors to match a liner. After three quarter of an hour’s journey he dropped us at Belawan with the parting shot, “Great to know about your modern ship, Sirs; you did not recognize me, I am LME (Leading Mechanical Engineroom rating) Avtar Singh from your ship. This ‘tempo’ belongs to my brother here in Belawan. How about coming to the Engine Room sometimes and doing a watch with me?” For the next few months we avoided A Singh on board as if he were a leper.

With “Ambassadors” of other Navies at a Seminar

On Ganga, I remember our CO’s address before entering the Ethiopian (now Eritrean) port of Massawa. After reminding us about our ambassadorial duties he embarked on another subject. He said foreign visits were also occasions to build up databanks. He said whilst we were not expected to actively indulge in any intelligence gathering, but, many a times, information could come to us in most unexpected manner. To illustrate the point he told us about the time when Indians were making overtures towards the Germans to procure submarines from them and wanted more information about them. He said he had gone to have a haircut at a saloon in Bonn and there, whilst waiting for his turn, he was leafing through the magazines. Lo and behold he found all the information about the submarines in an article in a local magazine. That evening, after we entered Massawa, we must have caused a small flutter in international – relations, for, the entire Ganga wardroom landed up at the local saloon for a haircut.

As a young officer in Odessa

On Himgiri we had gone on a foreign visit to the Black Sea Soviet (now Ukranian) port of Odessa. In foreign ports, sailors generally go out in uniform whereas the officers may go out in civvies. But, so great was the fascination of the Soviet belles with uniform that we found that the sailors managed to make friends with the prettiest of them. As if that was not enough, to add insult to injury, on the second day of our stay when a reception was held on board for the local authorities and their ladies, one of the ladies enquired of us as to why there was no officer in the reception. It was difficult to get to the bottom of this because of language barrier and it took us sometime to unravel the mystery. Apparently, a day earlier one of the Petty Officers in uniform on shore leave, when asked as to why was there a distinction between some of us going out for ‘liberty’ (shore leave) in uniform and others in civvies had informed them that only they, the officers, with an anchor or two on their sleeves, were “permitted” to go out in uniform.

On duty in erstwhile Yugoslavian port of Split

During our trip to Athens we were ambling in the Constitution Square when a kind man came to us and asked if we were Indian. He said that he admired Indians and would like us to have drinks in the company of his fair-sex friends. The drinks were nice and the girls were nicer still. We talked about our great nations, our history and heritage, Taj Mahal, Delhi etc (amongst other things, that is) and really enjoyed ourselves. We were under-trainee Acting Sub Lieutenants on board. We were convinced that we were smarter, wittier, more interesting company; else, why would the girls be attracted to us as compared to our more senior colleagues from Himgiri? In our megalomaniac trance we did not know that the man who had invited us had quietly vanished and so had our seniors. Later, we were asked to pay an exorbitant bill for the drinks, and we had to part with our entire foreign allowance and more. We were the suckers who had fallen for the obvious ploy. When we returned on board we were ‘ceremoniously’ received with all the seniors lining the gangway and going through the motions of a mock side-pipe.

In Florence (Italy)

Such hoaxes and swindles during foreign jaunts are worth remembering. During one such trip we landed up at Colombo. In order to shop there we had to first convert our Indian rupees into local currency. Just as it happened in Athens, a kind hearted gentleman came and asked us to put our money in individual envelopes that he had brought, write the names and amounts on the sealed envelopes and then he’d go and get the requisite local currency. He took the envelopes from us only to make a list and then handed these back to us. We held on to these whilst he went on his errand. We were confident that this was totally safe since we had the envelopes with the money with us. As time passed and he did not return we reassured ourselves by feeling the envelopes containing our money. However, when he did not return even after one hour of wait we opened the envelopes and found that instead of our hard-earned money these contained newspaper strips. In the evening we narrated this incident, over drinks, to other officers in the wardroom and they made fun of us for not being observant and cautious. The next day the lot to whom we had told the story also lost their money in like manner.

But, of all the incidents during foreign trips, this one takes the cake. Whilst walking in one of the ports, knowing that the locals would not know our language, that is, Punjabi, one officer

Crossing the English Channel

would accost the lovely damsels with the naughty Punjabi line: “D— ke thane jaana?” (Are you willing or should I take you to Thana, that is, Police Station). The damsels, not understanding the question or its import would just smile at him and walk away and all of us would burst in cackles. However, when he asked this of the most beautiful of the girls, she confronted him with, “Thane jaana”. He did not know where to look. That evening we had a reception on board and she happened to be the daughter of the Indian (and Punjabi) First Secretary. Our flamboyant Punjabi officer did the Mister India trick (many years before the movie was released) and tried to become invisible during the party.

Foreign trips or port calls or overseas deployments are great ones to showcase Indian technology, culture, greatness etc. These are occasions to make bridges of friendship across the oceans. However, what one remembers most about them are such snippets.

RAINS AND OUR SONGS

What makes the difference? You need to see Gene Kelly’s 1952 ‘I’m Singin’ in the Rain’ to know the difference. Listen to José Montserrate Feliciano García singing ‘Listen to Pouring Rain’ to know the difference. He was a blind Puerto Rican composer who couldn’t have seen the rain; but rain is not meant to be only seen.

“Listen to the pouring rain,
Listen to the rain pour;
And with every drop of rain,
I love you more…

Let it rain whole night long,
Let my love for you go strong;
As long as we are together,
Who cares about the weather?
Listen to the pouring rain,
Listen to the rain pour.”

Rain means diffrent things to different people. To some it means an obstruction keeping them from what they want to do; they only get wet and are annoyed with the rain. Others enjoy getting drenched in the rain. It is a welcome experience.

By and large, I believe, lovers love the rain as it brings them closer. An Urdu couplet says:

“Badal tu itna na baras ke wo aa na sake;
Aur jab aayen to itna baras ke wo ja na sake”
(Translated:
“Rain cloud, hold on please so my beloved can arrive,
And when she does, pour so much that she can’t return”)

Various communities in India have different songs, in their own languages, about the rain. In the state of Uttar Pradesh (UP) since rains are brought by East winds (in Hindi “Poorba” or “Poorvaai”) they have songs about how pleasant is Poorba. In Punjab, the rains, called sawan (pronounced saunh) remind you of what all you can do during the rains, eg, eat fried sweet delicacies. So on with other states. Maybe Indians just love to love and love rains in many different ways.

Only a few decades back, when we were kids we were so eager to sing, “Rain rain go away; come again another day”. But now rains are welcome.

My favourite Hindi songs have a special place for rains (sawan).

“Sawan ka maheena, pawan kare sore,
Manva re jhoome aise jaise banva naache more“

(Rain month is here, the breeze touches you pleasantly,

Mind dances with joy in the manner of a peacock dancing in the forest)

In folklore, somehow, rains affect no one as much as lovers, and separated lovers at that. Taste this:

“Saawan ke jhule pade hain,
Tum chale aao….

Aachal na chhode mera, pagal hui hai pavan
Ab kya karun main jatan, dhadke jiyaa jaise panchhi ude hain“

(The swings for the rains are out, my love

Come be with me.

Playing with my stole, the breeze has gone crazy,

Now what should I do, my heart is beating like the flight of birds)

Or listen to the lyrics of Raja Mehdi Ali Khan in the 1967 movie Anita, with playback singer Mukesh singing these:

“Saawan ke din aaye,Beeti yaaden laaye,
Kaun jhuka ker aankhen,
Mujhko paas bithaye;
Kaisa tha pyaara roop tumhaara,
Poochho mere dil se, hai
Tum bin jeevan kaise beeta, poochho mere dil se“

(When the rainy days came,

They brought past memories,

Of the one who sat beside me,

With eyes looking down.

How lovely you looked, my love;

You have to ask my heart.

Without you how I lived,

You have to ask my heart)

Sawan must be a great all round friend for all of us that we get so excited by its arrival. According to me, and pardon me for getting mushy, if you haven’t ever enjoyed walking in the rain you are missing something in life. And, if the following (Mohammad Rafi and Lata Mangeshkar in Ishq Per Zor Nahin, a 1970 movie) doesn’t touch you, nothing will:

“Yeh dil diwaana hai,
Dil to diwaana hai.

Saawan ke aate hi,
Baadal ke chhate hi,
Phulon ke mausam mein,
Chalte hi purvaai, milte hi tanhaai,
Uljha ke baaton mein,
Kehta hai raaton mein,
Yaadon mein kho jayun,
Jaldi se so jayun,
Kyunke saanvariya ko sapno mein aana hai.”

Phoolon ke mausam mein

(This heart is crazy,

Crazy is this heart, because,

On the oncoming of rains,

In the shadow of the clouds,

In the season of flowers,

When the East winds blow, and when I am alone,

It gets me entangled in following talk,

In the nights:

Sleep quickly my master,

And get into the world of memories,

Because your beloved has to meet you in the dreams)

There are songs and songs on rains. Finally, my all time favourite is by the Music Director Salil Chaudhary, who composed music for this song from the 1960 movie Parakh in such a way that you not only get the pangs of separation but the pitter-patter of the rain that makes the separation unbearable:

“O sajnaa, barkha bahaara aayi,
Ras ki phuhaar layi, ankhiyon me pyaar layi,

O sajnaa

Aisi rimjhim mein o sajan, pyaase pyaase mere nayan,
Tere hi, khvaab mein, kho gaye,

Saanvali saloni ghataa, jab jab chhayi,
Ankhiyon mein rainaa gayi, nindiyaa na aayi
O sajnaa …”

[lineate][/lineate](O Love, rainy season is here,[lineate][/lineate]That brings the spray of nectar (of love),[lineate][/lineate]And longing in the eyes.[lineate][/lineate]

A view from my house in Kharghar

[lineate][/lineate]In this pitter-patter, my love, my eyes thirst for,[lineate][/lineate]Dreams of you in which I lose me,[lineate][/lineate] Dark clouds of rain when they come,[lineate][/lineate]My eyes look for you in the nights, sleepless)[lineate][/lineate]

Saawan, folks, unfetters dreams…..

POLITICISING BABA RAMDEV

I am an apolitical man. All articles in my blog and all my utterances have always been so. Baba Ramdev may have said something in the past, which appeared to be favouring one group or party. Afterall, manipulating an emerging leader by pulling him down to our level of moral and other values is a national pastime. But, despite this manipulation I believe that by and large Baba Ramdev is apolitical and has the best interests of the nation at heart.

However, I am amused by the so called elite’s opposition towards Baba Ramdev. Is it because he cannot harangue in English language? Is it because he’s a common man? Our media that is ruled by the rich and the powerful has ascribed itself the power to make a demon out of a saint and vice-versa. Do they give a thought how such means of theirs help the nation?

Nearly sixty four years after independence, the fruits of a true democracy and freedom have not reached the common man (read http://sunbyanyname.blogspot.com/2011/01/how-proud-should-we-be-of-indian.html) and yet we still want to indulge in politics, mud-slinging, and above all corruption.

The indecent manner in which the government bore down on Baba Ramdev and his supporters today at the nations capital (of shame) reminded me of Lala Lajpat Rai: “Every blow aimed at me is a nail in the coffin of British imperialism.” Lalaji was proved right and the British were evicted. But, soon, the British imperialism was replaced by the imperialism of the political class. It also reminded me of ‘Freedom’ is always hard fought; even Freedom from Corruption.

Photo: Courtesy NDTV

THIS IS FOR THE ELITE:
Baba Ramdev’s forcible eviction from Delhi reminds me of a scene from 1970 movie Love Story. The scene is what a rich Oliver Barrett tells his son when he confesses to loving a commoner Jennifer, “Well, if you do, I shall not give you the time of the day”. The son Ryan O’Neal responds, “Dad, you don’t know the time of the day“.

I feel that Corruption is really the issue. The man on the street is fed up of having to pay underhand that should be legitimately his right. That’s the time of the day. I hope we all read it like that and don’t get it confused by politics, personalities, biases, proclivities and innuendoes. Lets not, in our cynicism, look down on every venture to steady the boat of our nation. This is precisely what the govermnent wants to do. Lets not make their task easier by a divided house.

Baba Ramdev is an above average Indian and I, like crores of others, have immense respect for him for rekindling love within us for Yoga and our ancient heritage. However, just to defeat the cynicism, I shall support even the local bhangi if he is capable of raising voice against the rampant corruption in the Indian system.

Lets not make fun. That’s an un-Indian thing to do. Lets also not get frustrated by the fact that it is a long journey. Lets take the first step and everything will follow.

MYSTERIES OF LIFE

There are many serious mysteries of life; for example, whether there is God or not, where do we go after death, whether you get reward or punishment for your deeds in this world or the next, and whether you go only when your time comes or is it left to chance?This article is not about that. This article is about those everyday mysteries of life that we cannot find answers to; or at least cannot find easy answers. Ours is a world of research on anything at all; eg, a billion dollar research on finding out what makes a woman buy what she does when she visits the mall. So, how is it that adequate reserch has not been done on the following even though, in varying degrees, these affect us all:

How is it that when some other child cries incessantly we find it so repugnant; however, when our own Tinku cries it is music to our ears?
How is it that fathers don’t want their daughters to do with their dates that they themselves wanted to do with their dates when young?
How is it that when you think you can’t take anymore life surprises you with the reminder that what you had until then were good times and the worst is yet to come?
How is it that there is no breeze until you open your newspaper?
How is it that the vehicle ahead of you is slow like a snail but the one approaching from behind is in indecent haste?
How is it that your dog invariably senses the mood you are in; but your spouse never does?
How is it that your boss decides to go home early when you have decided to work late?
How is it that the telephone numbers of Enquiries at Railways and Airlines are always engaged?
How is it that everybody you have met has lost money at the Stock Exchange?
How is it that guests invariably arrive early when you haven’t dressed up after cooking but make you wait for hours when everything is ready?
How is it that when you have paid in advance the vendor finds it so hard to remember the time of delivery but his memory shows tremendous improvement if he discovers you owe him money?
How is it that buses are too few when you have to wait for them but the roads are littered with them when you have to drive?
How is it that when the electricity is there the fan hardly provides any air but after the lights go off you have problem in lighting a candle due to excessive breeze?
How is it that you remember the telephone number of your ex-flame even after years but have problem remembering your present number?

REAL BEAUTY – A FEELING OF PURE JOY

Somerset Maugham, the great novelist I used to read in my school and college days, could never understand the brouhaha about Beauty. According to him a glass of beer on a hot summer day was beautiful. “Beauty is an ecstasy” he wrote, “It is as simple as hunger. There is really nothing to be said about it. It is like the perfume of a rose: you can smell it and that is all”.

Rabinder Nath Tagore, on the other hand, felt that real beauty is to be felt and not just seen, because:

“Eyes can see only dust and earth,
    But feel it with your heart, it is pure joy.
    The flowers of delight blossom on all sides, in every form,
        But where is your heart’s thread to weave them in a garland?”

So, then, how does Beauty elevate from ‘something to satiate hunger’ to feeling of ‘pure joy’? The answer was provided by the Hindi films lyricist Hasrat Jaipuri writing for Badshaah (Monarch), a 1954 movie:

“Tu maang kaa sinduur tuu aankhon kaa hai kaajal
Le baandh le haathon ke kinaare se ye aanchal
Saamane baithe raho shringaar ham karen
Aa niile gagan tale pyaar ham Karen”

((My Love,) you are the vermillion in my hair, the kohl in my eyes,

Come, claim me as your own,

(to lead me around the holy fire of betrothal)

Your sitting in front of me completes my make-up
Come, lets love under the blue sky.

Real Beauty, therefore, according to me, involves at least two people: the object and the beholder. It doesn’t exist in the absence of either.

Real Beauty also has a certain degree of innocence attached to it. William Wordsworth brought out in the lyrical ballad ‘Three Years She Grew in Sun and Shower’:

“The Stars of midnight shall be dear
To her; and she shall lean her ear
In many a secret place
Where rivulets dance their wayward round,
And beauty born of murmuring sound
Shall pass into her face”.

Does this mean that Real Beauty is just an abstract for me, a dream or fantasy, an ideal to reach; but untouchable, unreachable? Nay, quite the opposite. I feel that Real Beauty is actually found in seemingly most ordinary things and people and animals. Indeed, if I were to come across an exquisite object or being that looked remote and isolated, like a ‘twinkle-twinkle-little-star- how-I-wonder-what-you-are’, I may be fascinated by it; but, I’d hesitate to call it beautiful. Real Beauty to me is like a gentle rain: it has to touch me, drench me, change me, want me to walk in it. Real Beauty, I believe, makes all beings and things more beautiful by its touch, by its presence.

Unless you revel in misery or forlornness, Real Beauty must also make you smile. At what? No, not at anything or anyone but simply smile, acknowledging the beauty of God’s creation.

In our recent life, in our family, our yellow Labrador Roger was the most beautiful being in our lives. He looked at you with such pleading, beautiful and innocent eyes that one had no choice to hug him, fuss him, kiss him. Unobtrusively, he made such a place for himself at home and in our hearts that we couldn’t imagine life without him.

Recently, when he died at the age of twelve, and we cremated him, for quite some time the entire family sat on a cement bench in front of the crematorium. A few days later my elder son Arjun rang me up and said, “Papa, so many of our beautiful memories are connected with Roger that even the period when he was not with us appears to have his presence”.

That one sentence, I would think, describes Real Beauty better than an essay. Real Beauty transcends Time.

Real Beauty also must have a degree of tenderness; a vulnerability that anyone would want to protect it against. As Ben Johnson said, ‘It is Not Growing Like a Tree’ that makes a plant beautiful:

“A lily of a day
Is fairer far in May,
Although it fall and die that night—
It was the plant and flower of light.
In small proportions we just beauties see;
And in short measures life may perfect be”.

If it is Real Beauty in a being, the feature that I’d look for the foremost is the Eyes. Eyes are windows to a being’s world. Since there is a saying that beauty like ugliness is skin-deep, I feel eyes bring to fore the inner beauty of a person. If that not be so, why is it that many blind women have the most beautiful eyes? They say when a woman is pregnant her eyes become beautiful. It is a fact that what she imagines her child to be gets reflected in her eyes. Who could have said it better than Byron:

“She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes,”

A beautiful person, hence, must have beautiful imagination and deeds. These are what gets reflected in the person’s eyes. Was Mother Teresa beautiful? Indeed, she was. She imparted beauty to everything that she touched. At beauty pageants, for example, every girl wanting to win the title, has a quote from Mother Teresa.

Being the romantic sailor that I am, Real Beauty must also hold a certain enigma for me; connecting me to yonder, to life and beyond. As Robert Browning said in Cristina:

What? To fix me thus meant nothing?
But I can’t tell (there’s my weakness)
What her look said!—no vile cant, sure,
About “need to strew the bleakness
“Of some lone shore with its pearl-seed.
“That the sea feels “—no strange yearning
“That such souls have, most to lavish
“Where there’s chance of least returning.”

And lastly, one beautiful look can enslave you for the rest of your life. You just see her standing there and like Beatles you are hooked:

“Now I’ll never dance with another
Since I saw her standing there.”

You carry that beautiful image with you wherever you go.

DO OUR FLIGHT ANNOUNCEMENTS REFLECT OUR CULTURE?

There is a recent ad that is a telling commentary on the disgraceful hurry that we, as Indians, show whilst getting out of the aircraft on landing. So, even when the air hostess is requesting people to remain seated until the aircraft comes to a complete stand-still or not to open overhead lockers, any number of people are already vying to get a head startover others. This is an exact replica of people waiting at the traffic lights or at railway crossings; the farthest away wanting to be the first ones to cross.Recently, we have tried to do up our airport terminals. Some of these, like Delhi and Hyderabad, have become really good. You would like to soak in the displays and just relax waiting for your flight. But, nay, an endless volley of announcements would keep you from relaxing or even concentrating on your newspaper. Some of these are deliberately made loud and piercing so that Mr ABC, for whom half a dozen “last and final calls” have been made, would miraculously make his way towards the aircraft so that the aircraft can take off within an hour of its scheduled departure, which is the nearest we can come to an on-time departure.

Once in the aircraft, since you have opted for a reclining isle seat, you would think that there would be respite from announcements. It is not to be. The very reason they ask you to shut down all electronic devices is that after hours, you will still not have time for yourself. You should constantly be paying attention to everything that the cabin crew and the Captain have to say to you.

Enough of announcements? No, with my experience of having been a “guest” at various domestic flights, and keeping in mind the conduct of the fellow passengers, I feel that following announcements may be added to the existing ones. All these are based on actual incidents:

We told you that in case you need anything you shouldn’t hesitate to press the overhead call button. However, please remember there is no need to test it every now and then. Also, please don’t let children play with the button.
Please don’t throw the orange peel on the floor, especially in the aisle.
Please don’t go to the pantry to pick things on your own. We confirm to you that it does not help the cabin crew.
Conversing with people three rows behind you or in front may disturb other passengers.
Jackets/pouches in fronts of your seats are specific for each seat. Please ask the person directly behind the pouch before reaching out to take magazines and newspapers or even headphones from the pouch.
Please refrain from playing transistors, portable music players, and cell-phone music without headphones.
Holding hands of couples across the aisle may hamper movement of other passengers. We are sorry for the inconvenience caused.
Whilst sitting down and getting up, please don’t jerk back the seat in front of you with great force especially when refreshments have been served.
Please avoid putting legs on the seat in front of you even if your feet don’t smell. If your feet or socks do smell, please don’t take out your shoes. If you are not sure whether they smell, assume that they do.
Spread your newspapers, magazines etc in such a way that they don’t hamper the other passengers especially if they are watching in-flight entertainment.
The flight is only about one hour forty minutes or so. Hence, you don’t have to stretch your legs in the aisle or walk briskly up and down.
Isle seat does not give you the right to spread your legs in the aisle especially when the air hostesses are serving meals.
Please avoid sneezing when the person sitting next to you is being served coffee.
Please remember that toilets are to serve the needs of other passengers too.
If you are fond of singing, please pass your visiting card around to passengers around you so that they can come to your office or home to listen to your performance. Your talents are wasted in the aircraft.
When you find an overhead locker full, please don’t start re-adjusting the entire locker to make space for your box of mangoes. This will keep the other passengers from reaching their seats.
It won’t help if you vent on the cabin crew your unhappiness over the flight having been delayed.
Please don’t insist on speaking personally to the Captain of the aircraft if you want to air your grievance about the service in the aircraft. Someone has to fly the aircraft too.
Each flight carries a limited number of pillows and blankets; and certainly not one per passenger.
We would appreciate if you can finish the coffee/tea/water poured in your cup rather than giving these back to the cabin crew when they come to collect the trays.
If you have your baggage in a locker far behind you, it would be better to let other passengers already in the aisle to disembark before venturing your way against the general flow of people. Please bear with us that the total time taken from first to last passenger is never more than five minutes.

Thank you; it was a pleasure (we are great liars) having you on board and we look forward to being given an opportunity to serve you again (like a hole in the head).

OSAMA, OBAMA, O MAMA

They finally found him not in a cave in a mountain but in a huge mansion in Abbottabad, a few hundred metres away from Pak Military Academy. I was reminded of this scene in Mel Brooks’ Silent Movie in which they are looking for Burt Reynold’s house whilst standing in front of a huge mansion with a large sign atop the house with his name on it that even the blind would have had difficulty in missing. Obama wasted no time in taking credit for it. This was reminiscent of Al Qaeda, LeT, JeM and other terror organisations quick on the draw for taking credit for terror killings and explosions in a city square or temple.

The comparison doesn’t sound very right, is it? Well, the fact is that when Godse killed Mahatma Gandhi or James Earl Ray killed Martin Luther King or Oswald killed John F Kennedy, there was so much of contrast between the personae of the killer and the killed that the world was in total shock. A retaliatory killing of the killer was thus a non-event. He wasn’t a hero by any stretch of imagination. However, in the present case by defining the terrorist act of 9/11 as ‘War on America’ and later the retaliatory actions as (Global) War on Terror, both the players had become adversaries or contenders in War, bringing them, willy-nilly, on an equal plane, except perhaps for their methods. Even in this, if the methods of one adversary are totally above-board, in keeping with international norms and UN conventions, and with due regard to unnecessary killing of civilians and innocents; then only the adversary has moral ascendance over the other. Else, if both parties follow the good old English dictum ‘Everything is fair in Love and War’, then neither party has a right to moral ascendancy or ethical superiority or jus ad bellum (justification to engage in war) or pass judgement on someone’s jus in bello (whether war conducted justly).

Ankur Sood, in an article ‘Establishing A Philosophical Foundation for the Osama Movement’ (p 112, World Affairs, Spring 2007, Vol II, No. I) brings out that all major religions (including Buddhism) admit that violence in any form may be used to resist and defeat an oppressor. Based on this philosophy, it is not just Al-Qaeda and Iranian Revolutionary struggle that find justification in indulging in violence; but, come to think of it, the so-called civilized world too. Take for example, how the US has ascribed to itself ‘the right of self-defence’ by carrying our drone strikes in Waziristan or armed struggle (by proxy) in Libya. The intrinsic thing wrong in this kind of doctrine is that if others too follow this doctrine, it would be the case of ‘an eye for an eye’ making the whole world blind.

In Oct 2010, on the eve of Obama’s visit to India (a begging bowl visit?) I wrote an article ‘Is America Losing Legitimacy of Power?’ I had given a number of examples how US obduracy, double standards, and desire to protect ‘American strategic interests’ by all available means had begun the (moral) decline of this great power. Subsequent events proved me right.

Lets come to the third part of the title: O Mama, ie, what does it mean for us in India?

Ever since the Partition, Pakistan sought to internationalise the Kashmir issue. India wanted to sort it out by mutual dialogue. Pakistan was hell bent on mediation by its ally US. Having lost in all wars it fought with India, it tried out the terrorism tool (Death by a Thousand Cuts). It had witnessed the success of it by the Mujahedeen’s (sponsored by the US) victory against the Soviets in Afghanistan. Thus, post 1989, such terrorist attacks against India increasingly became routine. Pakistan’s importance to the US was dwindling post Soviet pullout from Afghanistan. But 9/11 came as a blessing in disguise for it. The ‘no-brainer’ given to Musharraf by Bush suddenly propelled Pakistan as a leading ally in the (Global) War on Terror. India kept insisting that Pakistan was the major Originator of Terror globally but US turned blind eye towards it to facilitate its operations in Afghanistan. US was also annoyed with India for having conducted nuclear explosions three years prior to that. Pakistan enjoyed siphoning off funds from the US as “compensation” for its contribution in GWOT.

What were the side-effects of this arrangement? Well, Pakistan lost its sovereignty in exchange for promise of security and money and importance. Even before the Operation Geronimo by the US SEALS, the US forces were, at will, using Pakistan territory for launching operations either within Pakistan or in Afghanistan. Skeletons that emerge from the Pak cupboard now reveal that Pak Army was not “surprised” by these but was party to it.

Pakistan sponsored 26/11 Mumbai Attacks made US sit back and take notice of the Pakistan’s tacit involvement in the terrorist attacks; more so since it came out that the terrorists specifically targeted American tourists. However, as the David Coleman Headley episode brought out, it is India that was ‘surprised’ and not the US. Soon, American operations in Swat and Waziristan became more important than the cross-border terrorism that Pakistan was subjecting us to. Indirectly, it provided India too with ‘security’ in that as long as US was involved in AfPak, it would not tolerate Pakistan re-starting any major mischief (the Kargil variety) in Kashmir; not because of Indian interests but because it would take the focus away from US AfPak operations.

Let’s now, for a moment, turn back to Osama and Obama. It is more than likely that OBL’s presence in Pakistan did not surprise the US (come to think of it, it hardly surprised Afghanistan and India). In that case, the timing of the US operations would suggest three things: one, to tick off success and provide it with reason to pull out of Afghanistan; two, US Presidential elections next year; and three, to finally acknowledge Pakistan’s role as a major sponsor of global terrorism.

The first and third have serious ramifications for us. After the indirect deterrence provided to us is compromised, what is to afford us deterrence against full scale terrorist attacks emanating from Pakistan with, as is always the case, tacit support from Pak Army, which is dying to take the focus away from its perceived failure to protect Pak sovereignty? Post 1998, Pakistan perfected what Uday Bhaskar termed as NWET (Nuclear Weapons Enabled Terrorism). In the face of it, India, very quickly lost the deterrence value of its own nuclear arsenal by NFU doctrine, ambiguous statements and capability to absorb nonsense emanating from across the border. Deterrence value of Pak nuclear weapons was, however, enhanced by its irrationality and proven irresponsibility.

So then what is the solution?

I think the first step is a realisation that US is neither a solution nor the enabler of one, despite the current change of heart in US media about India. The second more difficult step is to convince Pakistan of the same. It would appear shocking, at first glance, but, despite their failure, Pakistanis are our ilk. Perhaps if we were to make our democracies (of/by/for ‘common’ people) more representational and stronger we would be better off. As far as imperialism is concerned we should endeavour to convince Pakistan to keep these forces at bay by a) Realising that they are still following the ‘divide and rule’ and to sort out our differences by ourselves b) Economic development c) Making a dream of one Asia or at least one South Asia be realised and become as strong as, say, EU. For this, politicians and strategists in both the countries have to eschew suspicion and promote people to people contacts. Recent events have provided us with a unique opportunity to pursue these goals. If we fail, it is my guess, unless I am proved totally wrong, that after Pakistan breaks up (within a decade) such a realisation will in any case seep in despite the imperialists’ efforts to ensure it does not.

CORRUPTION KI BAAT MAT KARO BHAI

Corruption की बात मत करो भाई

मैं तो ठहरा सिर्फ तुम्हारा नाइ

आपके बाल काट के चला जायूँगा

और फिर अगले महीने ही आयूंगा

यह नेता पांच साल में एक बार आता है

आपकी जेब काट के चला जाता है

रिश्वत लेने के लिए नए तरीके सोचता है

अपने साथ साथ अपने वोट भी बेचता है

मैं तो उस्तरे से करता हूँ तुम्हारी shave

ये बगैर उस्तरे के बनता है तुम्हें slave

मैं आपके बड़े हुए नाखून हूँ काटता

ये आपकी रगों से खून है चाटता

मैं बाल काटने के बाद आइना हूँ तुम्हें दिखता

ये भरी रौशनी में तारे तुम्हें गिनाता

मैं तुमसे पैसे लेके तुम्हें हूँ कुर्सी पे बिठाता

ये तुम्हारे पैसे से खुद कुर्सी पे चढ़ जाता

आप कहते हो मेरी कैंची तेज़ चलती है

इतनी तो नहीं जितनी इसकी जुबां उलगती है

आलिशान बंगले में इसकी लम्बी कार है

और कहता है के , “जनता ही की सरकार है”

मैं करता हूँ तेल लगा के तुम्हारी मालिश

ये करता है देश की दौलत को polish

मैं तुम्हारे सफ़ेद बाल करता हूँ काले

इसने करोरों रुपये swiss bank में लगा डाले

मेरे पास जो कुछ है मेरी अपनी कमाई है

इसने देश की दौलत अपने नाम करवाई है

सो मुझ से corruption की बात मत करो भाई

मैं तो ठहरा सिर्फ तुम्हारा नाइ

Corruption ki baat kyun karte ho bhai?

Main to thehra sirf tumhaara naai.

Aaapke baal kaat ke chala jayunga

Aur phir agle mahine hi aayunga.

Yeh neta paanch saal mein ek baar aata hai,

Aapki jeb kaat ke chala jaata hai.

Rishwat lene ke liye naye tarike sochta hai,

Apne saath saath apne vote bhi bechta hai.

Main to ustre se karta hun tumahari shave,

Yeh bagair ustre se banata hai tumhein slave.

Main aapke bade hue nakhoon hun kaat-ta,

Yeh aapki ragon se khoon hai chat-ta.

Main baal kaatne ke baad aaina hun tumhein dikhata,

Yehi bhari roshni mein taare tumhein ginaata,

Main tumse paise lekar tumhein hun kursi pe bithata,

Yeh tumhare paise se khud kursi pe chad jaata.

Aap kehte ho meri kainchi tez chalti hai,

Itni to nahin jitni isski zubaan ugalti hai.

Aalishaan bangle mein isski lambi car hai,

Aur kehta yeh hai ke “janta ki hi sarkar hai”.

Main karta hun tel lagake tumhari maalish,

Yeh karta hai desh ki daulat ko polish;

Main tumhaare safed baal karta hun kaale;
Issne croron rupaye swiss bank mein laga daale.

Mere paas jo kuchh hai, meri apni kamaai hai,

Issne desh ki daulat apne naam karwaai hai.

So, mujhse corruption ki baat mat karo bhai,

Main to thehra sirf tumhaara naai.

PUBLICLY PRIVATE

In our lives, both professional and private, the biggest change that I can think of is the present day constant invasion of our private lives as compared to when I was small. Indeed, there is no private life. We have to somehow conform to the public and the common. Ayn Rand would be turning in her grave.‘Curiosity kills the cat’ has always been true. Remember the olden day joke about the boss who told his secretary, “Mark this memo ‘SECRET’. I want all in the office to read it”? Lovers of yore, for example, wrote volumes about and lamented how the whole world knew about their ‘secret’ love. The more you tried to keep ‘duniya’ or ‘zamana’ (world) out of your affairs, the more they intruded. Historically, varied ways were found to keep the unauthorized out from entering your domain, for example, fences and walls, passwords, torn currency notes, identity cards and even chastity belts. At times these succeeded whilst at others you just had to live with the unwanted intrusions.

During the WW II, a German spy had to detrain at a little known English village whereat he was to contact a counterspy. He knew the password or phrase and its reply and also the name of the person he had to contact. On alighting at the station, he approached a porter and enquired about this person, “I have to meet a Mr. Smith. Would you know anything about him?” At this the porter replied, “Here, Smith is a very common surname; the Station Master is Smith, the Ticket Collector is Smith; the Bookshop vendor is Smith and, even I am Smith”. “Oh, you are Smith?” asked the German spy hopefully and straightway tried the secret phrase, “Well, ‘I have a corn on my left toe’ ”. At this the porter replied, “So, it is Smith the Spy that you desire. Why did you not tell me before?”

You may also recall the good old joke about a Russian calling President Brezhnev a fool; he was tried on two serious charges: one, for showing disrespect to the highest authority, and two, for revealing a state secret.

In the Navy, my erstwhile employer, we took secrets and classified information and books rather seriously. Photographs and Photostats were a big no no. I remember the time when the first of the Photostat machines came to the Navy; well, one had to make an application in sextuplicate to ask for a page to be xeroxed. Many a times, what was already in Jane’s or newspapers was marked SECRET. I remember a fascinating middle in a newspaper penned by Jesse Kochar about the most reliable sources for naval wives about ships’ sailings: the newspaper vendor and the LIC agent.

However, nowadays there are prying eyes everywhere and protecting privacy has become a full time job. As soon as one goes on to the Internet, one is naked to the whole world. The other day I wanted to learn about something that I never had, that is, ‘a flat stomach’. I checked a few articles on the Google. One year later, irrespective of the nature of my Google research, say, Iranian Elections’ or ‘UAVs’, the ads on the sidelines have curiously been about ‘flat stomach’ and these still pop out most innocuously. For example, “Want a flat stomach? Annie tells you how. Cheapest rates in the world”; and all I wanted to find out was whether a certain Poonam Pandey had kept her promise or not.

These days what is available on facebook and Twitter debates and hence known to millions of viewers would have put a person in trouble if he/she had disclosed to a few friends.

It used to be a serious offence to even try to learn about military locations. Nowadays, one can download everything from Google Earth or other equally revealing sites. Many a times, senior officers are answering questions on the television about matters which they had thought even their own personnel did not know about; though, it is a fact that the media mixes facts and fiction into an ever changing concoction; so much so that one is never sure where fiction ends and reality begins or vice-versa. ‘Let it all hang out’ is the catchphrase of the media whereas the armed forces, bureaucracy and government offices would like to have a fig-leaf of secrecy about varied matters. Fig leaf? It reminds me of the time when a group of old ladies went on a botanical tour and came across this tree the kind of which they had not seen earlier. When told that it was a fig tree, one of them could not help remarking in a shocked voice, “My, my; I’d always imagined the leaves to be bigger.”

There is, thus, these days, nowhere to hide. Ratan Tata, for example, moved a petition in the Supreme Court that he had a right to his privacy; and how was it that his Personal & Confidential mail to Karunanidhi was available everywhere? Nira Radia and others who interacted with her; and a certain B Dutt realised that there is nothing like having private conversations and that one has to be guarded all the time. Someone, somewhere is always snooping. Everything is public, everything is common knowledge.

Passwords? Well, words fail me to describe how these have taken over our lives. Remember the good old: “Halt, who goes there” and the reply, “Friend with a bottle”, and the final security clearance – “Pass friend. Halt bottle”? Nowadays, for everything there are hurdles of Login IDs and Passwords; be it bank accounts, emails, secured nets, forums and groups. Many of these are to be changed periodically and mandatorily. Hence, to keep track of your current IDs and Passwords is as difficult as to name the current boyfriends of some of our popular actresses. If you try the wrong combination a number of times, your account gets locked, in the manner of the Chastity belt I told you about, or the draw bridge over the moat, denying you further access.

In all this, what are the chances of unintentionally matching Passwords? Here is a scenario:

One day, at the border with our ‘Friendly Neighbour on Western Side’ (By the way, this is how this country is described in exercises in the armed forces for, hold your breath, reasons of security), the security question and reply for the border sentries matched. A soldier on sentry duty on FNWS met his counterpart on Indian side, without realizing the sides were opposite and boomed, “Kali chhatri” (Black umbrella). On receiving the response, “Neela aasmaan” (Blue sky), both relaxed and started chatting. They described how their officers were b_ _ _ _ _ _ s of very high order, which too matched totally and added to the developing bonhomie between them. Every now and then they exchanged ‘Kali Chhatri” and “Neela Aasmaan” and felt reassured that they were on the same side, until, they came to specifics. And then…despite cries of KC and NA, they were at each other’s throats.

Far fetched? You won’t be too sure if you stop to think that Faridkote is a town each on either side of our border with FNWS.

Shahid Afridi recently aired some private views publicly, which warmed the cockels of Indians’ hearts. No sooner had he finished doing it when he was privately taken to task for being anti-national and anti-Pakistan. He was reminded that the raison d’etre of Pakistan was relentless hatred towards its Unfriendly Neighbour on the Eastern Side (UNES). He then publicly retraced his steps and spat out venom.

The other day, many of my Passwords for various sites turned out to be Fail-words. I tried again and again and was totally frustrated when the account was locked. Exasperated, I turned to God and prayed, “God, I am your humble servant. Keep me from the false security and frustration caused by Passwords.” To my bewilderment, there was lightning and thunder and then I heard God tell me, “Please try again to register prayer; your name and password don’t match.”

Last year when I left the Navy after thirty seven years, I left with a nightmarish thought that if I were ever to be taken a POW by the agents of the FNWS and I had to reveal a secret to save my life, I won’t really know of any.
Are there no secrets anymore? Is there no private life? How much do we want the society and the world to be regulated? Let alone spoken and written words, the other day I read an article that there is research going on to get into the minds of the people so that even before they take a decision their ideas should be known.

God, how is it that when we want to be heard no one hears us? But, when we want to keep something personal or private they don’t let us?

I am reminded of the time when a government official was trying to sell a radio set to a farmer in far corner of USSR. The farmer was not impressed. So the official told him, “Look at it this way. With this you can be in any part of USSR and still hear Moscow.”

The farmer had only one request, “Nah; but, do you have anything by which Moscow can hear us?”

All those who regularly snoop on other people’s conversations, affairs and bank accounts; all those who snooped on Radia and her friends with such dexterity, do you have anything by which you can overhear millions of our countrymen dying of hunger and crying in pain? Do you have anything to make their private misery public?

CRICKET HAMARI SHAAN HAI

Cricket hamara mazhab hai,

Cricket hamari jaan hai:

Aur khelon mein hum hon na awwal,

Per Cricket hamari shaan hai.

PM bhi match dekhne aate hein,

Kiyunki woh bhi to insaan hai.

Wah, Pratibha ji bhi aa pahunchi,

Unki kya aan baan hai.

Hamare mulk mein koi hi aisa hoga,

Jo Cricket se anjaan hai.

Bahuton ke liye to dekha jaaye,

Cricket hi saara jahaan hai.

Ek taraf to Sachin God hain,

Doosri ore Zaheer Khan hai;

Pinch hitting mein apne pas,

Koi aur nahin, Yousuf Pathan hai.

Jo kuchh desh mein, wohi Cricket team mein,

Hindu, Sikh aur musalmaan hai;

Sabse labon pe ek hi naara hai,

Saare jahan se achha Hindostan hai.

Kissi se poochho aap itne khush kyun ho,

Jawab: “Wankhede ke saamne meri dukaan hai”

Aamir Khan se poochho yahan kaise aaye?

Kaha: “Meri hi picture ka naam Lagaan hai”.

Woh dekho ik amriki bhi aaya match dekhne,

Itna shor sun ke woh kaafi hairaan hai.

Sirf Raja kahin nazar nahin aata,

2G ke scam mein woh behadd preshaan hai.

Final ke liye sab tayyari kar lo doston,

Thodi der mein aane wala ik toofan hai;

Kabhi bhoolna nahin khelte ya dekhte,

Sab deshon se ‘Hamara Bharat mahaan hai.

Kyunke, Cricket hamari shaan hai,

Cricket hamari pehchaan hai.

P.S. Winning the ODI World Cup is going to sort out all our problems of Poverty, Corruption, Cross-border Terrorism; poor Public Health, Education, Roads, Railways, other Infrastructure.

INDIANS LOVE TO HONK – DON’T THEY?

Indians are a horny lot; we just love to honk. It is not uncommon to see a car moving on a deserted road with nary a man or animal or any other moving object in sight; and the driver of the vehicle pressing the horn every now and then. Why? Several reasons are given in this article; but, the main one is that the sound of our own horn restores our confidence in our driving ability. Those who witnessed the last FIFA World Cup were amused to see the South Africans pull out a long instrument with weird sound called the Vuvuzela with which they greeted anything of interest on the field. Well, it is the same with the Indian use of the horn on the road. Honking is a celebration of our freedom.

The number one use of the horn is the proclamation of the desire to move faster. We are convinced that accelerator and horn are to be pressed together. Accelerator makes us go faster without any assistance from others; but, the horn declares to all and sundry that we are in a hurry. So, then, why don’t they hear us and give us way? Simple, because they too are in a hurry and pressing the horn equally blithely. We may be in the midst of a huge traffic jam (caused more often than not because of our curious driving skills); but, we are convinced that somehow the incessant honking would brighten up things.

The second use is to tell all the people around that we can see things more clearly than them. For example, ours may be the farthest vehicle from the traffic lights; but, the nincompoops ahead of us need to know that we saw the lights turning green before them. Similarly, if we see an opening in the slow moving traffic (which is always the case) we must indicate to the ignoramuses that a detour to the pavement would make them and consecquently us reach ahead of the slow-moving lane.

Then there is the frequent honking to drive some sense in the driver whom we suspect is intending to take advantage of us; eg, by slowly edging towards our lane which he perceives is moving faster than his lane. Also, if he too is eyeing a spot in the traffic that gives the person some advantage (maybe a few feet) vis-a-vis others around, we must bring home the misconception to him. Finally, if he is heading towards the only parking place that we had viewed much before him, shouldn’t we claim the spot like the Arizona gold-hunters? It is just a natural instinct – no big deal.

The above are types of specific honking with specific aims, however unattainable these might be. However, there is one general honking, very regular, loud and may sound irritating. It is to tell people around us how important we are and how unworthy they all are. During the days of the rajahs, when the rajahs used to move on elephants, they used to have footmen walking in front blowing conches and horns to signify the king’s arrival. Because of austerity measures and also because of the speed of vehicles, it is not possible to have footmen walking in front of their vehicles announcing their arrival nowadays. Hence, these modern day monarchs have to rely on vehicle horns. What is wrong with that?

Honking is also used to bring home others’ mistakes. For example if the vehicle ahead of us is stopping to let pedestrians cross, we have a choice either to overtake him and wade through the unruly lot; or we can honk and let the vehicle ahead realise the wrong he is about to commit. What is wrong with that? It is just a natural instinct. Also, when our lights are turning red and the across lights are turning green, shouldn’t we honk to indicate to the uncouth lot that we are allowed to cross until a few seconds after the lights have turned red, following the trail of those who are crossing in green lights? Shouldn’t they wait?

Some honking is just to break the monotony of the journey. Have you ever thought of how boring a drive is without honking; everybody minding their business, everybody giving way to everyone, everyone keeping to their lane etc? It would make people go to sleep and make them less alert. Such societies with such niceties are doomed to dullness. Indians are the only brainy people who have realised that some entertainment, fun, challenges, surprises are really required whilst driving to keep you awake. The expression, “There is never a dull moment” was born as soon as they introduced driving in India and a great part of it is to do with the horn.

Lastly, what do you do with things that you have paid good money to buy? If you have bought a TV set, would it serve anyone’s purpose if no one plays it? Similarly, if there is a horn in the vehicle, isn’t it wasteful expenditure not to use it? Can a poor country like India afford such wasteful expenditure?

Please note I have not even recorded such legitimate honking as after winning a match or during processions; or to express joy at finding no cop; or a lorry, bus or cab driver sighting his gaanv wala (country-cousin); or to regain a spot that you previously held in a lane when you moved to the other lane erroneously thinking traffic was moving faster there.

So, next time when you tend to get amused or irritated by Indians compulsively honking, think of all the purposes it is serving, including national interest. Don’t just be judgmental because you don’t know the aims of this glorious obsession we have with the horns. We could be wearing them, you know.

THE GREAT ESCAPE

There was a knock; at first it was faint, barely distinguishable but later it grew louder and more authoritative. He ignored it, not because he was too tired or too sleepy to get up and confront the person knocking with all its might. He knew the person; he liked her and everything about her. But, he was very skeptical about allowing her in. Last time he had allowed a similar one in and there was hell to pay. His house was in disarray for considerable time after she had left. He knew that more than her, he had only himself to blame for having opened the door. As long as he was inside he had relative comfort, relative security, and exclusivity. The moment he opened the door, she would slowly conquer his space. He had no fear of his loneliness. He was quite comfortable with himself; he had never hated the person he saw in the mirror everyday. She knew she had a great chance of succeeding if she’d keep knocking. If at all life had taught her anything, it was the realisation that knocking always helps. She had, hence, emerged a great knocker. Her favourite quote was, “If God closes a door, he opens a window“. She had the force of great conviction behind her. She had simply walked in many an open window. God, she maintained, had been kind to her.

He knew she could not walk through his windows; he was on a higher floor, and he never opened the windows.

The incessant tapping at the door became too loud to be ignored. He knew that his heart beat had already started responding to it; hence, for every thuck thuck, there was an equivalent dhak dhak. Finally, he realised that it was futile to keep pretending she could not enter. She was already there.

Initially, there was no problem about the closeness of the space. This was the exploration phase. Indeed, even though he had a two room flat, she was quite content in being with him in a single room. It was rather cosy and there was no question of either of them feeling claustrophobic. When she sang, it echoed from all the walls and he soared; no one had ever sung exclusively for him. He was convinced she had the most beautiful eyes in the world. Hence, whenever he wanted to fly, he only had to look into the ocean of those deep eyes.

However, after she came in, the world – their world – changed. Initially, both were content about living with each other in the present, enjoying each other’s company and everything connected with each other. Of course they had squabbles but these could at worst be called mere tiffs. But gradually, she started living more in future. Therefore, a time came when both of them were geographically in the same location but were in different times.

It was a constant tussel between them. She wanted the future – her future – to be discussed, to be secure. He wanted to love, to be loved, to cherish the present. She went along with him at times and more often than not enjoyed what the present held for her: he had an innate wit that she liked, compassion, and other finer feelings and a strange appeal. But no sooner that she’d finish enjoying the present she’d go back to the future.

He never wanted Love to be conditional. If he had known that she had other plans he wouldn’t have ever opened the door…or the windows.

Initially, she tried to go out of their space only mentally…not really on a fantasy ride but on an escape to the world that she craved. She debated with herself that an Indian woman, in a male dominated society, does have to worry about her future.

Later, she actually started going out….

She was attractive and there were any number of men who were fascinated by her charm. She reasoned that if it was all about living in the present with no commitment, then present certainly can be made more colourful, more acceptable, more exciting. Indeed, she often confronted him with, “If you have ideas, I have ideas of my own.”

This ruffled him badly. Who said anything about commitment? Love is a supremely selfish feeling, he argued. One cannot be loving everyone. One has to love one…and hence, there is commitment.

Later, when she used to return to the room – their world – in the night, he could sense her deception. She continued to make light of it and often said that because of him she couldn’t be expected to cut ties with everyone. She asserted her independence. Why is it, she demanded, that in Indian society, men could do anything but women were to toe a rigid line? Why is it that in a male-dominated Indian society women are to be castigated for even talking to men?

He kept quiet. He knew the truth.

He reckoned that when she had invaded his privacy by knocking at his door he had welcomed it so that they could make a world of their own. But, now, there was hardly any space or even time for themselves. For all practical purposes they lived in different worlds.

One day, she woke up as usual and turned towards his side of the bed. She used to love getting up just a few moments before him and look at his handsome face when he was totally defenceless. She couldn’t find him in the bed. Perhaps he had gone to the toilet, she thought. But minutes later she didn’t hear the familiar sound of the flush or the door. She got up and checked; he wasn’t there. She went to the other room and he wasn’t there too…or in the kitchen.

The door was still bolted from inside. This meant he was there in the house somewhere. She searched and searched but couldn’t find him.

She called out his name frantically. There was no response.

She threw open the window and looked out. No, he couldn’t have. It was too high to jump and there was nowhere to hide…anywhere.

And yet…he was gone…just at the time when she felt she had him; when she felt he’d never leave.

Sunbyanyname