DIMINISHING DAD

It wasn’t very long ago when I was big and rich; really big and rich. Less than three decades back.

I had a small telly, the best I could afford with my Navy pay. I didn’t have a car since I couldn’t afford it. My wife and I used to call our Yezdi 250 cc a donkey since the mobike could carry everything for us including gas cylinders that we used to carry on it from Navy Nagar in Colaba to Worli where, after I got married, the Navy had given me a one room house. It was a large room though. We put a double bed on one side of the room, had a kitchen slab on the other side with a dining table right in front of it. We became very fond of walks along Worli Sea Face since it used to cost nothing. At the end of the walk we used to sit at the breakwater and reward ourselves with two rupees of singdana (peanuts).

You must be wondering where do ‘big‘ and ‘rich‘ get into the description of me? Well, let me explain ‘big’ first. Immediately after marriage, until several years after that, my wife used to think I was the greatest man she had come across. And then, when the fact of my not being as big and as invincible as she had imagined started to sink in, our two sons were born. I was an instant hero with them until their teens. As an example, the telly was hardly ever switched on; my sons used to think that nothing could be more interesting than what they called Papa TV. After dinner, it was race with them to the bed or the carpet where I used to perch them on my tummy and tell them stories; the most serialised and longest one was the story of the animals in a jungle with such names as Georgie Porgie Lion, Richard Snake, Elizabeth Cow, Charlie Elephant, and Martin crow. They would be breathless to know what happened next when Georgie Porgie took all the animals for a picnic by the Jungle Train. Papa TV had everything: songs, poems, jokes and even commercial breaks when they’d run up to their mom and have milk and come back.

Arjun & Arun enjoying Papa TV (the actual TV lies switched off)

Interestingly, they were fascinated by everything that I did or said and indeed some of my expressions are still prevalent in the family; for example, whenever I made a proposal, say, about a picnic or to have Kulfi at Punjabi Kulfi at Chowpatty, I’d ask them, “Yes? No? Maybe?” or after explaining something I’d look at their faces and ask, “Not understood?” Recently, Arun, our younger son explained something about what he does at his Animation job and ended up asking me, “Not understood?”

I was their best toy. With whatever money I had, I had got them the best of toys but they were quiet content playing with me.

Their ‘best toy’

Also, both the children’s future passions were nurtured in the childhood. Arjun, our elder son, has emerged as one of the leading critics of pop music in India. Below is a picture of Arjun listening to the first of the songs that he would have understood the tune of. It was on my Sony two-in-one that I got in 1975 on my first foreign cruise as a navy officer.

Arun (the younger son), on the other

Arjun’s first exposure to music

hand, became adept at a Commodore 64 computer and I got him a few ‘video games’ to play on it. He had to put a magnetic cassette in a corder attached to the computer and type out ‘Load’ on the computer and then type out ‘Play’ and then race those speeding cars with the pointer keys on the keyboard. This he did when he was all of three years old. So, even before he learnt ‘A for Apple, B for Bat’, he learnt ‘L for Load and P for Play’ on the com. Arun, later, became the video-gaming champ in India for seven years and went abroad each time to take part in video gaming competitions. Arun, therefore, wants to design his own games and is presently a qualified Animator.

The best education that my wife and I gave them was to be good human beings and gentlemanly at all times. To be able to look themselves in the eye, at all times; to speak the truth even when it hurt them; to be bold and courageous even when the majority did wrong; and to know right from wrong. What about religion? My wife is a Catholic and I am a Sikh. We never forced the children to strictly follow any or both the religions. They are free to choose on their own. Arjun, therefore, believes in God without following any particular religion. Arun doesn’t believe in God. Both of them, however, agree with me that organised religion is beginning to do more harm to our society and that religion should become more personal and private. It is better to be good and “irreligious” than to be “religious” but evil.

We never encouraged them to babble so as to look cute. Both could, therefore, express themselves well and freely. Also, both did not have to agree to our point of view. I have enumerated several incidents in this blog when I could learn things from them. For example, on one occasion we, as a family, went by our Maruti 800 (we could get a car in 1988; thank God for that) for a picnic at one of the beaches in Vizag. In my enthusiasm I had driven the car close to the beach on the sand. Being on the East coast, the sunset was fairly early and we later realised that dark was setting in fast. The only difficulty was that as I started to race forward, the right side rear wheel made a burrow in the sand, started digging deeper and panic set in with me since it was as a remote part of the beach with nobody around. The more I tried, the worse it became. Arun, in the meantime, kept telling me, “Try the jack, dad.” How idiotic, I kept thinking. This boy of seven had no idea, I thought, that a jack was to be used on a static car and not whilst moving or trying to move. However, finally, after trying various things, I tried the jack for the right wheel. As the car lunged forward with the force of the left wheel, the right too came out of the burrow. The jack of course fell but now the car was out. We collected the jack and drove back without getting into any more panic.

All kids want to step into their dad’s shoes

Incidents like these taught me a lesson: to have more trust in their abilities rather than choose the safe option of always trying to spoon-feed them. It took me some time to learn that a child when he steps out of his childhood and enters boyhood, wants to step into his dad’s shoes. But then, that’s only a transitory stage. Soon, he wants to step out of his dad’s shoes and see the world with his own eyes, make mistakes and move on. In Arjun and Arun, the desire to do things on their own was probably more intense than most other children. They’d get very impatient if I would give them detailed instructions about anything. Here is Arjun on the right trying to learn to tie a necktie on his own. Arun too broke a few teeth but learnt to ride a bicycle without my holding the handle or steadying it for him. How did this absence of spoon-feeding help them? Initially, they used to read my poems and articles etc and marvel at how well I’d written these. Later, I found that they could write much better than me.

There were two big surprises for us: one, when Arjun appeared for his CBSE exam (12th std). Because of my frequent transfers, I thought he had not been able to study much and hence, when the results came; we sat around the computer to check these. I said a silent prayer to ensure he’d pass. Just before his mark-sheet flashed on the screen, I asked him what was his expectation? He said he expected to be amongst the top rankers. I made a mental note of his misplaced expectation and thought I must speak to him about it later sometime. But, lo and behold, Arjun with nearly 93 percent marks had stood first in all Naval Public Schools in India.

Arun too gave us a pleasant surprise. The first one was that he could order his computer accessories and parts on the computer at the age of ten. Only when the courier would come to deliver a part at home we’d realise that Arun had ordered it from thousands of miles away. Then one day he asked our permission to take part in a video gaming competition. We allowed him “as an encouragement” but never knew he’d win and would continue winning for the next seven years.

Arun learnt music entirely on his own. He’d sit for long hours in front of the computer and try to learn the basics from the net. A few years later, he could write his own music and play. With another friend of his he formed a band of his own. Nowadays when he plays and gets a fair amount of audience applause, no one believes that he had no trainer to teach him about music or how to play the guitar.

They finally grew very fast and very soon started rubbing shoulders with me. I had got substantially diminished by that time. But, then I had to be content with the fact that my wife and I gave them values, told them what is good and bad, gave them means to discover their true potential and then left them on their own

to make their lives the way they felt the lives should turn out to be. In the end, a diminished dad is not a question of parental ego being hurt. It is a recognition of the fact that life is unique and precious and parents ain’t God who should, at all times control the lives of their children and mould these to produce clones of themselves. My mother still says, “Bachche tanh kaka bachche hi hunde ne.” (Son, children will always be children). True, mom, but they have every right to live their own lives and not their parents’ lives. A diminished father or diminished parents is not such a bad thing after all.

In so many different ways, they’d always be children. But, why should I impose my point of view all the times? I don’t want them to step in my shoes. I want them to make their unique lives independent of me, whatever they choose. One of my friends, when I told him that Arjun has got into music and Arun into animation, told me about the courage that I had in allowing my sons to follow their passions, even when they ain’t earning tons of money, which they would have if they had followed traditional fields.

That brings me to the question of money. At one time, in my childhood, I was very rich indeed. I owned ships, skies, clouds, stars. Here is one of my ships:

I continued being rich in my life; I always had enough. I never scrounged. On my Yezdi, when we travelled, with one son perched ahead on the fuel tank and another in my wife’s arms on the backseat, I was rich. I was rich when, as a lieutenant, I took money out of my provident money and took my wife with me to a two week duty cum holiday to Italy, France and England. I was rich when I married my wife on my own and we didn’t know how we’d run a household without any money between both of us.

My father too was rich when he earned all of Rupees 150 when I was small. His father once gave him advice, “Mani (my dad’s name) I pray to God that you’d spend a lot of money.” Dad, at that time thought of it as an idiotic advice since money would grow multifold if one’d save it rather than spend it. Many years later, he learnt the truth. Of course, you can’t foolishly spend money. Dad never scrounged and somehow had enough. He passed on this richness to me and I, in turn, passed on this God given richness to my children.

Life is a dream, they say. But, I ask you, how many people have the courage to live that dream and…..allow their children to live their own?

Being diminished, as I said, is not a bad thing at all.

CURTAIN CALL

End of a drama,

A comedy, a farce;

The nice cosy chats we used to have.
And bartering of Love with
Your own version of Love.

No sounds, no whispers, no murmurs.

Except you who can hear

Little children playing in the street,

The ring tone of your phone.
The cackle of your innumerable friends,
The honking of cars,
The chirping of birds
The call of the milk vendor
And the squish of the newspaper
As it lands in front of your door.
Bringing you news

From far places.

I can’t hear anything; nor do I try to
I have lost a few senses
I don’t know how many
Since I’ve lost the sense to know.

But, I have to hand it to you,
You really played your part well.
I wish….
I knew
Your lines too

So I won’t have mixed
Real life with acting.
I stand unmoving
Speechless and frozen
Waiting for…….
………..applause?

HOW UNBIASED OR INNOCENT CAN WE BECOME?

Is the world an obstacle course to cross and reach God? Is the purpose of our life or existence only to be with God or finally reach Him? Why is it that God can be obtained by the abnegation or denial of all human feelings, desires and wants? In our scriptures and even in ordinary conversation our baser feelings are described as being “animalistic“. But, who made those animals? Who made us? We tend to feel that whenever we do or think something ‘good’, God is controlling us. Then who is controlling us when we do or think ‘evil’ things? Who decides what is ‘good’ or ‘evil’? Who gives us any knowledge or consciousness? Is it God or does knowledge and consciousness exist in the world like internet; a huge highway?

Lets first examine the concept of consciousness. Consciousness is not an absolute term. Indeed, I have already established that there is no Absolute Virtue in this world (Read ‘Absolute Virtue’) and all virtues, qualities, good or bad, and hence beliefs and knowledge are in relation to others. Consciousness too is defined as ‘the relationship between our mind and the rest of the world with which we interact’. Thus, even though consciousness is awareness, it is subjective. And how do we know about consciousness? It is, we are at pains to say, something intrinsic, something intuitive. Something like our perception of God; an idea that emerged from nowhere but we intuitively know it is the right idea.

Consciousness: a relationship between us and the world (pic courtesy: zazenlife.com)

This then brings us to ‘Intuition‘. Intuition is known as the opposite of reason. And what is reason? It is the ability that we have ascribed to ourselves to think logically or to make sense of the facts presented to us. In other words, being reasonable is the same as being rational. Intuition on the other hand is the ability to have or use knowledge without reasoning. The origin of the word is Latin ‘intueri’ which means ‘to look inside’. Lets say you weigh factors in your mind and then decide on a course of action, your selection is dependent upon reason. However, if without weighing the facts in mind you, some inner voice or gut feeling tells you what you should do, you do so intuitively. Many people have won great fortunes or warriors won great battles by following their intuitions rather than reasoning. Intuition is also called Guardian Angel. It is not clear at whose behest your inner voice or Guardian Angel speaks to you.

Intuition: seeing it with the inner eye (pic courtesy: mindpowermasters.blogspot.com)

Lets subject Intuition to scrutiny, reasoning or logic. Is it really the opposite of rational and hence irrational or unreasonable or illogical? Then, how is it that even consciousness is what is intuitively known to us? What about post-event analysis or reasoning? For example, if an intuition can save you from an accident, what is irrational or illogical about it? Is it that if with your current sensory and extra-sensory knowledge leads you to disaster, then only it is fruit of a rational thought. Else, it is to be explained with the phrase ‘nothing succeeds like success’ or with the derisive ‘the b____r is just lucky’. About a century ago, in 1921, Carl Jung defined intuition as ‘perception by the unconscious’. Jung said that a person in whom intuition was dominant, an ‘intuitive type’, acted not on the basis of rational judgment but on sheer intensity of perception.

Last year, I wrote an article ‘Being Nonsensical May Be Far Sighted’. In this I had argued that since we compare our knowledge with what has been in the past, we limit our future knowledge. Therefore, the world’s knowledge grows only incrementally. Anybody who takes a leap of knowledge far beyond our current or past thinking is called non-sensical since we are limited by our senses. I also wrote that we live in ‘The Virtual World’ since even seeing is not believing and also, things do exist in the cosmos that are beyond our senses and hence, simply because we can’t see, touch, hear, taste and smell them are no grounds for their non-existence.

Okay, lets see what I have established so far in this article; it is that all consciousness, awareness, knowledge, rational, reasoning and logical approach is after all an attempt to compare the current knowledge with other current or previous knowledge so as to make sense of the facts presented to us. However, when we ‘intuitively‘ arrive at a conclusion, even if it turns out to be more right for us than reasoning, it is still the product of an irrational thinking or simply a ‘perception born out of unconscious’.

Intuition, therefore, may be defined as understanding or knowing without conscious recourse to thought, observation or reason. There is a great deal of mysticism or supernaturalism associated with it since we appear to be responding to cues, hints or suggestions given to us by our gut-feeling or without any previous knowledge. However, what if knowledge or awareness or consciousness about this previous knowledge is beyond the ambit of our senses? It would still then be historical data stored in the depths of our mind or hanging in the air, which comes to surface only when we are faced with a particular situation.

Sounds incredible? Well, it is not really so. We already have something called reflex action that makes a child instinctively take its hand away from fire or sharp object without having experienced it before during its short life of say three months. It is because generations of knowledge are imprinted in its nervous system through its parents, grandparents etc. Similarly, could this be that an intuition is nothing but generational knowledge imprinted in our system somewhere and it is designed to surface when it does? In that case, it is still comparing current knowledge with previous knowledge or simply experience. Have we experienced such a thing before? If yes, then how does the current experience compare with the previous one?

Therefore, experience is considered the very essence of consciousness; it is a subjective feeling, something intrinsic with each one of us. We are therefore conscious that there cannot be someone or something devoid of consciousness and still be called human.

Lets return to the original question: ‘who, therefore, gives us the consciousness, knowledge, awareness, and even intuition and reflex action, gut feeling or inner voice?’ Is there something beyond consciousness that drives us? Whenever we subject anything to our senses, we invariably compare it with a template we have in our mind of an earlier experience or history either directly through our memory or through intuition. Hence, we can never be innocent or unbiased since consciousness, knowledge, awareness, intuition etc all are relative and subjective. There is no absolute objectivity.

At this stage, let’s have a look at what exactly is Bias? How many times have you come across the expression, “Saala shakal se hi badmaash lagta hai” (He simply looks like a rogue). Lets give it a thought as to what exactly is contained in this statement? It is a template in our mind about what we think a rogue should look like. Have we got enough personal experience of rogues to form this template; or is it some one’s historic data, or description that has got us swayed?

Bias is, therefore, the tendency to have a one-sided perspective in comparison to other equally valid choices. It is a selfish point of view; something similar to a lover’s devotion towards his beloved. It is more emotional than reasoning. The fact is (this is my bias speaking) that every one of us has a philosophy of convenience and we invariably look for reasons to prove this theory or philosophy right.

A very good way to explain Bias by nirmukta.com

A bias can be cognitive if you take decisions based on cognitive skills rather than through evidence. We take shortcuts to arrive at decisions based on emotional and social factors rather than by seeking the proof of a particular statement, event or person.The term cognition comes from the Latin verb congnosco (con ‘with’ + gnōscō ‘know’), which itself is derived from the Ancient Greek verb gnόsko “γνώσκω” meaning ‘learning’. Hence cognition means: ‘to conceptualize’ or ‘to recognize’. If our mind, through emotional or social process of cognition has decided, even before hearing the evidence, that a certain person is bad influence; we cut out all reasoning and arguments against our decision. That’s Bias without our even stopping to think and analyse. Many a times we are not even aware that our mind does this to us; since, believe it or not, it is auto-programmed to do it without any inputs or help from us.

Take a mother’s love for her child; she gets immune to hearing anything that spoils her impression that she has the most beautiful child on earth.

With the kind of pre-knowledge that we are programmed to have, even before we are born, it is not possible for us to be ever unbiased or innocent. Every thought with us, whether conscious or intuitive, is based on historical knowledge (it may be immediate history or of thousands of years back) and hence, when we tell someone to clear his or her mind of all ideas and then make a decision, we are as far from the truth as we can get. Bias, with each one of us, is present in some manner or the other, in some degree or the other. All thinking is Bias in its larger sense. None of us can ever be totally innocent since all knowledge actually corrupts the mind and keeps the mind from reacting to a new situation or idea based on its own merit and not on historic data in our mind or elsewhere. Also, one can never be completely innovative; for, if one did, it would simply be non-sensical or beyond the scope of senses.

How then can we ever regain innocence? Indeed, this sentence unknowingly suggests that we had innocence at one time and lost it by our own actions, thoughts or inactions. Actually that itself is a myth. Anyway, lets at least examine the chances of our ever becoming unbiased or innocent.

The holy book that I look for guidance is the Sri Guru Granth Sahib. Guruji has described something called haume (Self or Ego) that gets into every thinking of ours and we are never free from it. According to Sri Guru Granth Sahib, if we can be rid of haume, we would be close to param aatma (Supreme Soul) or God.

Sounds very simple, is it? Get rid of haume and we are next to God. To help us examine it, we have to decide whether we have the Free Will to think or do things independently or some force somewhere guides us all the time?

Historically, there has been considerable debate with scholars and spiritual leaders about whether we have Free Will or not. It is a somewhat divided house. Is a person, of sane mind (whatever that means), to be morally responsible for his/her thoughts or actions or is what one does or doesn’t do already determined by a higher force; something that the Sri Guru Granth Sahib calls Kirt (writ already for you for a particular life or determined in advance)? Already, in most courts, a person’s guilt is held to be minimised or even held as zero if he or she was not sane or in a position to decide by himself or herself; for example, a small child suffocating her father through sheer ignorance will be held in the courts as innocent because a child is not expected to know what he/she is doing; and certainly not have mens rea (a guilty mind or an intention to commit wrong). However, if we carry forward this argument further, and come to the collective conclusion that no man or woman can ever be totally free to take a decision or commit a deed, what does it make of our collective reasoning to punish such a man? “For heavens sake, a forty-year old can’t be as innocent as a child”?

Lets study the concept of Free Will a little more. Free Will is our ability to make choices free from all constraints. What stands in the way of Free Will is metaphysical determinism and what favours is the concept of metaphysical libertarianism.

Determinism broadly means that some form of determinism or pre-set conduct or behaviour is true, and hence there is nothing like Free Will. This takes four major forms: Casual, Logical, Theological and Biological. Lets just take one of these to understand what it is. Logical determinism is the notion that all propositions, whether about the past, present or future, are either true or false. The problem of free will, in this context, is the problem of how choices can be free, given that what one does in the future is already determined as true or false in the present.

In Hinduism, the various schools of thought do not agree with one another on whether we have Free Will or not. Here is Swami Vivekananda about it; one of Hinduism’s thinking and modern saints: “Therefore we see at once that there cannot be any such thing as free-will; the very words are a contradiction, because will is what we know, and everything that we know is within our universe, and everything within our universe is moulded by conditions of time, space and causality. … To acquire freedom we have to get beyond the limitations of this universe; it cannot be found here.”

I found this in Wikipedia: However, the preceding quote has often been misinterpreted as Vivekananda implying that everything is predetermined. What Vivekananda actually meant by lack of free will was that the will was not “free” because it was heavily influenced by the law of cause and effect—”The will is not free, it is a phenomenon bound by cause and effect, but there is something behind the will which is free.” Vivekananda never said things were absolutely determined and placed emphasis on the power of conscious choice to alter one’s past karma: “It is the coward and the fool who says this is his fate. But it is the strong man who stands up and says I will make my own fate.”

So, finally, we have come to the end of this long discourse; which is that we can never be unbiased or innocent. However, there is a Consciousness far beyond the western or common notion of consciousness as given above. If, in some way, we are able to arouse this consciousness, we can get over what is pre-determined for us.

Until then, we can be more unbiased or innocent than someone; and at the same time be less unbiased or innocent than someone else. Also, we cannot be absolutely unbiased or innocent. As Eugene O’ Neill wrote, “No man’s guilt is not yours; nor is any man’s innocence a thing apart.”

Sri Guru Granth Sahib, which I believe, in large parts, is based on the Vedas (the holiest of Hindu scriptures), has this to say about it: “Man jeete jag jeet” (Conquer the mind to conquer the universe).

Easier said than done, since, you can’t free the Mind of Bias (borne out of haume) even for a second.

KACHCHE AAM KA ACHCHAAR (RAW MANGO PICKLE) – A RECIPE BY THE GOVERNMENT OF INDIA

After the recent petrol price hike, the Congress functionaries and supporters – of which there are a few thousand, especially in the media and think-tanks – came out in support of the hike on the grounds that the aam aadmi (common man) suffers or has nothing to gain by extending petrol subsidies that only the middle class and the rich enjoy. They claimed that such subsidies do nothing for the aam aadmi since he has as much use for petrol as the male of the homo-sapiens has for sanitary napkins; he doesn’t bleed (by a petrol price rise) and hence doesn’t have to contain the bleeding in a sanitary napkin of subsidies. Aam aadmi? First of all, I find it rather strange that I and my ilk are not included in the aam aadmi. I am reminded of Spike Milligan who started one of his hilarious books (I think it was ‘Monty – My Part in His Victory’) with this observation, “Every sunday I used to accompany my parents to the church and give money and alms for the poor. I used to find it strange since we were actually the poor.”

What is the definition of the aam aadmi? He can’t simply be the poor man because then he would have been called ‘Garib aadmi’. Thanks to the abysmal failure of our policies and family planning measures, we keep adding to the number of the poor in the country. At last count, in the eight northern states of India, we had more poor than in the entire Africa continent. Could it be that the rural people in the country are called aam aadmi? But then, after spending 37 years in the Indian Navy, I turned out to be the poorest in my village in Shimla Hills. No, it can’t be. I think very possibly, it is a term coined by the Congress to indicate people other than those who make noise about lack of governance, lack of government policies and visions, and about rampant corruption. Anna Hazare, Baba Ramdev and millions of their supporters can’t be the aam aadmi since they are routinely subjected to measures ranging from derision to forceful eviction and even arrest. They are often told that the “supremacy of the parliament should be respected” since parliament has been elected by the aam aadmi. Could it be that aam aadmi is the one who votes blindfolded?

RK Laxman’s aam aadmi or the common man

I think it gets more and more complex and we shall never get to the bottom of what exactly is the aam aadmi, except probably the perception by the government that the aam aadmi has already been rogered enough and can’t be rogered any more. Could aam have anything to do with the king of fruits in India – aam (mango)? Initially, when the idea occurred to me, I brushed it aside as a figment of my contorted imagination (the only type that God was left with after giving the best to Congress functionaries and supporters, as given above). But, the more I looked at it, the more I got convinced that that’s what Congress means: aam aadmi is the one who can afford nothing more than an aam (mango) with the above-poverty-line budget of Rupees 28.65 in urban areas and Rupees 22.40 in rural areas. And certainly not an aam of Alphonso variety; most probably the kachcha aam (raw mango).

Here I must indulge in a bit of nostalgia (to hell with my own ‘Nosey About Nostalgia’). When I was small, this is how my nani (maternal grand-mother) used to make kachche aam ka achaar. She used to pick raw mangoes and chop them into smaller manageable pieces. Then she would keep them spread out on a white sheet on a cot and let the sun season them for several days. This would reduce them to approximately half their size or less. Then, one day, she would garnish and season them with various spices, seasonings and salts and then put them in a jar of sarson oil. Kachche aam in jars would be kept like this for several days in the sun until nani would declare one fine day that they had matured and had been pickled. A similar process is followed by the government for the aam aadmi. You would guess the comparison, starting from cutting them on the lines of religion, caste and creed and ending with seasoning them in oil. Nani could very well have been made a minister in the government.

Here I must let out a secret. Initially, this article was called ‘Kachche Aam Ki Chutney’ but then, one spokesperson from the government, someone named Abhishek Singhvi, got in touch with me and said it would be too revealing after the (shocking) petrol hike of Rupees 7.50 and would give further “fuel-for-fire” to a certain Didi from West Bengal.

One of my friends, in his fit of frustration, went to petrol pump today and the following conversation took place:

Attendant: Kitne ka dallun? (How much should I pump in?)
My Friend: Bus do teen rupaiye ka spray kar de; gaadi ko aag lagaani hai (Only spray worth two-three rupees; I want to set my car on fire)

I was reminded of a RK Laxman’s old cartoon; in this a burly sardar taxi driver had gone to the bank and demanded angrily, “Remember, you gave me a loan to buy this car? Well, I want another to buy petrol now.”

I am told that in India, now onwards, petrol will be called ‘Cough Drops’; a few drops and you have to cough up more money.

Oil drop or cough drop?

The argument that the petrol prices should be raised because the aam aadmi doesn’t use petrol makes me think that the government can raise the prices of almost everything in the country since the aam aadmi, if I have got the definition right, hardly uses anything at all.

pic courtesy: aeonestudy.com

This morning, when, as usual I drove to my office; on the way, I saw some badly bruised people sitting on the road-side. They told me they were hit by a hit-and-run reckless vehicle. I went a little further and saw hundreds of stunned, bruised, injured, robbed and deceived people. I asked them what happened? They said they were hit by a reckless government. (Read ‘How Proud Should We Be Of Indian Republic At 62?’)

THE ARGUMENTATIVE INDIAN

He is everywhere; even before Nobel Laureate Amartya Sen discovered him. He is in India or abroad but he is never too far from getting into the thick of an argument. Public debate? Intellectual pluralism? For heaven’s sake what is the big brouhaha about it? Indians just love to argue. If at any place and time there are two or more Indians sitting, standing, half-asleep, playing, eating, or even just passing time there is potential for an argument developing. It is as simple as that.

Pic courtesy: newslaundry.com

I have come across many an individual who has to take the opposite point of view just to maintain his/her individuality. You can’t agree with him/her at all. Even praise won’t help to make him/her agreeable. The argument would develop in the following manner:

You (at your agreeable best): Mr. Saxena, I really like the shirt you are wearing.
Mr. Saxena (seriously offended by it and releasing steam through his nostrils): Do you have to make fun of me all the time? You should know that this is the worst shirt I have and I normally don’t wear it even though I paid all of Rupees Two Thousand Five Hundred for it. But my daughter, who would be a graduate soon, wanted me to wear this horrible thing for her friends; and I did this as a favour to her. But, you had to notice it and pull my leg. Ah, if friends are like this, what can I expect from enemies?

All along the harangue, you keep scratching your head and curse yourself whilst wondering what was offensive about your compliment. And now, you do the worst ever; although at the time when you say it you have no idea it is leading to further vitriol.

You: All I did was to praise your shirt Mr. Saxena.
Mr. Saxena: Now don’t sound so innocent. You wanted to show me down. You have been trying to do it for a long time though not succeeding because of my reserve. Tell me what exactly is likeable about this shirt? You probably want to pull the rank on me since you have over a hundred shirts. But, I can tell you I too have quite a few though I don’t show them off vulgarly like you do. Ask yourself this: do you really know anything about shirts? Back in America, I get invited as a judge in fashion-shows so often that I have lost count of the number of times. I see best branded shirts from Armani, Arrow, Lee, and Luise Phillip etc. I should know what a good shirt looks like. Ha.

I don’t know which race in India has the crown for becoming the most argumentative since I don’t have experience of all. But, since I have an experience of the Punjabi, let me tell you how to make a Punjabi do a near impossible thing: challenge him that he won’t be able to do it. For example:

You: Bhai sahib, it is virtually impossible to jump from this bridge.
Punjabi: Oh, yeah, who told you that?
You: No one told me; I read it in a book.
Punjabi: Bookish knowledge everywhere with the modern man. Hold my thaila (bag) and I shall show you how easy it is.

The argumentative spirit of the Punjabi is honed with everyday incidents. For example:

Punjabi: Kinne bhra ho tussi? (How many brothers are you?)
Innocent Passerby: Saara (Sir) randa or two.
Punjabi: Nahin je tin hunde tanh mera ki bigaad lainde? (No, but if you were three what could you have done to me?).

Two Punjabis sorting out an argument between themselves (Pic courtesy: explow.com)

Arguments are taken very seriously in India since they can lead to rage (for example, on the road because of traffic). Two years back, on the Vashi Toll Plaza, a driver killed another driver with a screwdriver over an altercation about jumping lanes. This year, in Gurgaon (Delhi) a driver killed a Toll Collector over dispute about the toll fee. Recently, a boy killed another over a squabble regarding a facebook picture and comments.

Traffic agreements in India start quite innocuously (Read ‘If You Drive In India Part I’ and ‘If You Drive In India Part II’). Lets say you and your family are going merrily in a lane. You won’t have noticed but the lane to the right or the left of you has suddenly gone very slow or stalled totally due to an obstruction. So, the car to the left or the right, without warning, cuts ahead of you, making you brake suddenly and almost lose balance. Within no time the lane-cutter’s earlier lane starts moving faster and you, full of indignation, go across to that lane and come alongside the lane-cutter. You lower the window and tell him as politely as you can, “Bhai sahib aap ko signal dena chahiye tha; accident hote hote bacha” (Brother, you should have shown indicator; it nearly caused an accident). The lane-cutter gives you a look as if you don’t belong. Then he searches and selects the juiciest out of his repertoire of filthy abuses and just to help you get the gist of it, he indicates the meaning of the abuse with his two fingers. You find it very unfair and drive the car in front of him causing him to brake suddenly just as you had to a while back. He comes out of the car and so do you. The other drivers jump into the fray taking one side or the other depending upon their moods. This happens frequently and none of us have been able to find a solution yet. However, whereas the earlier intention was to cut lanes and reach the destination early, now, everyone is delayed endlessly.

That’s really the great beauty of the Indian argument: no one ever lets go. In such a scenario, the vakeel or the advocate advises you to file a suit against the other party so that he can take the burden of the argument from you at your expense, time, and energy. Indians now have more cases pending in the courts than the current lot of judges can handle in a century. (Read ‘The Great Indian Judicial System’)

There is nothing to beat the NRI (Non Resident Indian) arguer. He has the better of both worlds. Whilst in the foreign country he contends how good is the life, customs, traditions, people, places, food, and music of India. Back home, he brings out, without being asked, how good is the life etc of the country of his immigration, say, America. “We have a lot to learn from the Americans” he starts his argument with authority, “I have spent three decades there. It takes a while to understand the American system; but, once you do, you realise it is really the best in the world.”

Then there is the political arguer or arguer about the decline in our values. This breed has the debating skills of a bull on rampage. He dexterously takes the opposite view of whatever you say. There would be people around, who, if they have the presence of mind, would point to him that in his hopping from argument to argument, he has well nigh forgotten which side was he originally. Nevertheless, he is the torchbearer of the nation’s endless debates on corruption, politicians, industrialists et al.

I just want to describe two more perennial arguers in our society. One is the cricketing arguer. He is forever debating the poor strategy on the part of the team he has taken upon himself to back and the unsportsmanlike attitude of the other team, fans and the umpire. This type is a no holds barred argument that leads to a brawl. One’s rank or status in society is considered worth mortgaging to somehow winning the argument even if it is with the security forces.

The other is the arguer who argues for you too; since he doesn’t find you capable of building up an argument on your own. That argument goes like this:

Arguer: And now you will say that I am an idiot. (At this he includes all around him for support) And now you tell, bhai sahib, this fellow is calling me an idiot and should I keep quiet? (He again addresses you) You would probably call me a mother-f—–r too. And mind you, you are calling me names but I am not saying anything. You think people who keep quiet are weak? Just because I am being gentlemanly……etc

There is no way you can ever win an argument in India. The argumentative Indian just loves arguments; winning or losing would end the argument, much against what he wants. That would end all the fun, isn’t it?

The saying ‘Don’t argue with a fool; people around you won’t be able to make out the difference between the two of you’ is never taken seriously in India. At the first hint of an argument developing you jump into the fray and it scarcely matters whether you come out alive or not.

Life goes on.

PRAYER OF THE MAROONED

[lineate][/lineate]How’d you feel,[lineate][/lineate][lineate][/lineate]If one morning you wake up,[lineate][/lineate]And look around;[lineate][/lineate]But, there is no one in sight[lineate][/lineate]You feel you are marooned[lineate][/lineate]And indeed you are shipwrecked[lineate][/lineate]On a remote island[lineate][/lineate]No sounds but the waves breaking[lineate][/lineate]Against the rocks[lineate][/lineate]Or of distant birds and crickets[lineate][/lineate]Dotting the eerie silence?[lineate][/lineate]

Pic courtesy: artcyclopedia.com

[lineate][/lineate]There is sweat on your brow[lineate][/lineate]And fear in your guts[lineate][/lineate]The sun is out now and it scorches your skin[lineate][/lineate]Soon your lips are parched[lineate][/lineate]Hunger and thirst invade you[lineate][/lineate]Like powerful and wicked aliens from Mars[lineate][/lineate]How long would you last?[lineate][/lineate]Will they find you alive?[lineate][/lineate]Or many years later as a skeleton of bones?[lineate][/lineate]Is there any hope of survival?[lineate][/lineate]

But……

[lineate][/lineate]You have grit,[lineate][/lineate]You have faith[lineate][/lineate]You can’t give up so easily[lineate][/lineate]God gave you precious life for a purpose[lineate][/lineate]And lifting your weary arms above you[lineate][/lineate]You reach out to God[lineate][/lineate]And pray to Him:[lineate][/lineate]”God, all that I need here[lineate][/lineate]Is Internet[lineate][/lineate]To connect to my friends again.”[lineate][/lineate]

THE BEST OF ZINDAGI (LIFE) SONGS

One would think that Hindi movies have obsession with Pyaar and Mohabbat (Love and Romance) and Yaad (Memory) and Chand (Moon). However, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that the Hindi movies’ biggest obsession is about Zindagi or Jeevan (Life). In a way it reflects we Indians’ fixation about unravelling the mysteries of Life; which, lightheartedly, is very different from an American’s fascination with Life: “Dad” asked the American son of his father, “Can I ask you something about Life?” Dad, expecting the embarrassing question, gingerly responds, “Go ahead, son; ask without fear.” And the son asks, “Why are we not subscribing to it (Life magazine) anymore.”

1984’s Hit Television Serial

Hindi movies and television, though, are refreshingly different about Zindagi (Life). You’d find songs covering every aspect of Life. Lets kick off with this 1956 movie ‘Jaagte Raho’ (Remain Vigilant). The great Shailendra was the lyricist. Shailendra hada long association with music directors Shankar Jaikishan (Punjabi-Gujarati duo) and the show man Raj Kapoor who liked his poetry in a mushaira (Poetry Recital Meet) in Mumbai when Shailendra was working in Indian Railways. This was in 1947 and Raj Kapoor immediately signed him for his 1948 film ‘Aag‘ (Fire). Jaagte Raho was produced by Raj Kapoor and he was the hero in the movie; but, the movie was directed by Amit Maitra and Sombhu Mitra. The song talks about Zindagi (Life) being a Khvaab (Dream) and hence there is no sach (truth) and no jhoot (lie). Mukesh, who sung almost all songs for Raj Kapoor sung this too. The music though is not by Shankar Jaikishan but Salil Chaodhary. The song is almost a satire on Life. The actor in the song, the one who is drunk, is Motilal:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GQZaG5SZRYk

Lets jump to 1972 movie ‘Piya Ka Ghar‘ (My Husband’s House) about Life in Mumbai (then Bombay) and the lack of privacy when large families stay in small flats with common bathrooms and toilets, and when water is so scarce (nothing has changed in Mumbai after so many years). The movie was a comedy directed by Basu Chatterjee starring Jaya Bachchan and Anil Dhawan. Anand Bakshi as lyricist and Laxmikant Pyarelal as music directors made the most popular hits in the Hindi movies without any extraordinary philosophy. However, the theme song of the movie had Life’s philosophy described in very simple terms: ‘Ye jeevan hai is jeevan ka yehi hai yehi hai rang roop; thode gham hain, thodi khushiyan hain, yehi hai yehi hai chhanv dhoop‘ (This is Life and this is its colour and face: some sorrows, some joys, here only you find sun and darkness):

Now, lets talk about what appear to be two opposite thoughts about Zindagi (Life). The one is by what I regard as the greatest lyricist of all times Shakeel Badayuni (Read ‘The Best of Old Hindi Songs: Rafi, Shakeel, Naushad and Dilip Kumar Together‘) writing these immortal lyrics for 1948 movie Mela (The Fair). The crux of the song is that we, as human beings, are too small entities in the Fair of Life; we are like drops in an ocean and whilst we give ourselves lots of importance, we must remember that the world can go on very well without us as it has done before and will do later. ‘Ye zindagi ke mele duniya mein kam naa honge, afsos hum na honge’:

The other is by the great Sahir Ludhianvi for the 1961 movie ‘Hum Dono‘ (Both of Us). Actually, if you pay attention to the lyrics, both mean the same. In Hum Dono, Dev Anand in this song thinks of Zindagi in the manner of Miller of Dee, ie:

There was a jolly miller once
Liv’d on the river Dee ;
He danc’d and he sang from morn till night,
No lark so blithe as he.
And this the burden of his song
For ever us’d to be
I care for nobody, no, not I,
If nobody cares for me.

Likewise, Sahir in this song says:

Jo mil gayaa usi ko muqaddar samajh liyaa – 2
Jo kho gayaa main usako bhulaataa chalaa gayaa
Main zindagi ka saath nibhata chala gaya.
(What I found, I thought of it as Destiny,
What I lost, I forgot about it
I gave full company to the Life)

What about Zindagi (Life) and Pyaar (Love)? The best on this theme is this Rajinder Krishan written song for the 1953 movie Anarkali () starring Pradeep Kumar and Bina Roy. Pradeep Kumar acted as Prince Salim who later became the emperor Jehangir. Salim revolted against his father, the Emperor of India Akbar over his love for a common girl Anarkali. C Ramchandra gave the music for the song. C Ramchandra was in love with Lata Mangeshkar, who, in order to teach him a lesson, was instrumental in ruining his career; even though he composed music for many songs sung by her including the famous ‘Ai mere watan ke logo’ Lata Mangeshkar though sang the song for Anarkali didn’t pay heed to the lyrics in relation to C Ramachandra: ‘Ye zindagi usi ki hai jo kisi ka ho gaya, pyaar mein jo kho gaya‘ (This Life belongs to the one who belongs to his love and is lost in such love):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1eFso_5-bFc

Talking about Life devoted to Love, how can we forget the other immortal number of Anarkali by the same team of Rajinder Krishan and C Ramachandra. This one, though, is sung by my favourite singer Hemant Kumar. Hemant Kumar Mukhopadhyay or Hemant Mukherjee was a Bengali singer who was born in Varanasi. He sang for the All India Radio in Calcutta and his first movie as Music Director was the 1947 movie Abhiyatri. His first Hindi movie came in 1952, Anand Math. He was a leading exponent of Rabindersangeet. Most of his songs in Hindi movies have a special atmosphere built around them, eg, ‘ye raat ye chandni phir kahan‘ for the movie ‘Jaal’ and ‘yaad aa gayin vo nasheeli nigaahen’ for Manzil. This song for Anarkali brings out that even though Life of Love is short, but it is still a Life worth living. One can have crown, throne, and all the riches in the world; nothing is more precious than Love. “Zindagi pyaar ki do chaar ghadi hoti hai”:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HCViCUyk9-g

When it comes to Life of Love, I don’t suppose one can find better words than the Pakistani lyricist Qateel Shafai for the 1973 Pakistani movie Azmat. I can be forgiven for this not going entirely with the songs from Hindi movies. However, one, the song is a composition beyond compare; and two, Mehdi Hasan, the gazhal singer is as well known in India as in Pakistan. His ghazals such as ‘Ranjish hi sahi dil hi dukhane ke liye aa‘ and ‘patta patta buta buta haal hamara jaane hai’ would set afire any mtiushaira in India. The strain of the ghazal below is: “Zindiagi mein to sabhi pyaar kiya karte hain; main to mar kar bhi meri jaan tujhe chahunga” (In their Lifetime many Love their beloveds; I am the one who’d love you beyond Life too.” It is worth listening to over and over again:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AfBS-8Fs5sI

The next Zindagi song has its music composed by another great Bengali music composer Salil Choudhury who helped Hemant Kumar find his feet in the Hindi film industry. Salil’s genre is to have the music tune go up and down with the emotion of the song. His best, of course is from the 1960 movie Parakh: ‘O’ sajana barkha bahar aayi, ras ki fuhaar layi, akhiyon mein pyaar layi’ (Read ‘Rains And Our Songs’). His music literally pitter-pattered with the rain with the words: ‘aise rimjhim mein ho sanam, pyaase pyaase mere nayan; tere hi khvaab mein kho gaye’. In the 1970 unforgettable movie ‘Anand’, he brought out similar magic in this Zindagi song written by Yogesh: ‘Zindagi kaisi hai paheli hay, kabhi ye hasay, kabhi ye rulaaye‘ (Life, what a riddle it is; sometimes, it makes you laugh, at others, it makes you cry):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3vgDb4TQneA

Whichever way you look at zindagi, whether as a love song or as a sea of sorrow, you have to live it. Here is some sane advice about zindagi given by the lyricist Sawan Kumar whose most popular song in the Hindi movies was ‘Teri galiyon mein na rakhenge kadam aaj ke baad’ for the 1974 movie Hawas. No one, therefore, can give him credit for great philosophy or emotions (eg, ‘shayad meri shaadi ka khyaal dil mein aaya hai’). However, surprisingly, he wrote this gem for the 1983 movie ‘Sauten’ (the other wife). Some credit for the song also goes to Usha Khanna as the music composer. Please pay attention to the lyrics whilst playing this; ‘Zindagi pyaar ka geet hai‘:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M9YGUkKphsg

Zindagi, for some, though can be a painful episode and they pray to the one who has given them Life to cut it short for them and recall them. The first one on this theme is a song by one who wants God to terminate his Life. The song is from the 1953 movie ‘Dil-e-Nadaan’ starring Shyama and Talat Mehmood. Shakeel wrote the lyrics and Talat himself sang since he was the king of ghazals in India. It is plaintive cry to the Creator to hear that his heart is burdened by Life since here in this world he died whilst still living (this happens with those who lose everything in love) (Zindagi dene waale sun teri duniya se dil bhar gaya):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WVI_PsOm84I

The other is about the one whose Life is being terminated prematurely by God due to a terminal disease like cancer: ‘Zindagi ka safar hai ye aisa safar, koi samjha nahin koi jaana nahin…..aise jeevan bhi hain jo jiye hi nahin, jinako jeene se pehle hi maut aa gayi’ (The journey of this life is such a journey that nobody knows, nobody understands….such lives are also there who haven’t really lived, who were visited by death even before living). Indeevar wrote these lyrics for the 1970 movie ‘Safar’ (Journey) and Kalyanji Anandji provided the music. It is a very soulful number sung by the great Kishore Kumar:

I end with the lyricist Shailendra writing these wonderful lyrics for the greatest music duo Shankar, Jai Kishan for the 1971 movie Andaaz. Once again Kishore Kumar sang the song. Kishore Kumar was born as Abhas Kumar Kanjilal Ganguly. His active career was nearly of four decades when he made his debut for ‘Ziddi’. He was the most versatile personality in the Hindi film industry: singer, actor, composer, producer, director, screen-writer and script-writer. His movie ‘Door Ka Rahi’ was a one man show in most of his avatars. The song has a sane advice (though given in flambuoyant style) that Death will any case get you in the end; why should you go through the journey of life by being anything but happy (‘Zindagi ik safar hai suhaana, yahan kal kya ho kisane jaana’):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R_806iQ86Ns

What lesson do we take about Zindagi (Life) then? Is it a dream? Is it a moment of Love, of Sorrow, of Pain? Life goes on without stopping for us to pause and think. Perhaps, if we pay attention to poets as above we can have a few carry-home points how to live Life. There are many really good Zinadagi and Jeevan numbers I had to leave out. However, there is one poem I don’t want to leave out. It is so Lyrical: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s ‘A Psalm of Life’:

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world’s broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,— act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o’erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

In short, as Faani Badauni wrote: ‘Zindagi zinda dilli ka naam hai; murda dil kya khaak jiya karte hain‘ (Life is translated as Liveliness in Heart; those who have Dead Hearts, they cannot call their Living as Life)

NOSEY ABOUT NOSTALGIA

The Present is just a moment – a fleeting moment; whereas the Past is an accumulation of memories. Our memories are based on personal experiences and hence they are dear to us. We, therefore, idealize the past and yearn for it. This is called Nostalgia, a word derived from the Greek νόστος (nóstos), meaning ‘homecoming, and ἄλγος (álgos), meaning ‘pain, ache’. Just like Depression, Nostalgia was, at one time, thought of as a psychiatric condition, a form of melancholy. It is only in the early Modern Era that the word got associated with yearning for the ‘good old days‘.

We have nostalgia concerning all our five senses of Hearing, Seeing, Smelling, Touching and Tasting. We are, therefore, nostalgic about, for example, old songs, sepia coloured pictures especially of our childhood, smell of crayons in our first classroom, the touch of our mother’s hand as she guided us through the busy city streets and the taste of our tiffins carrying lunch that we used to savour sitting under a tree next to the playground.

Are there any scientific studies done on Nostalgia? Yes, there are but not enough. Scientists feel that the recall of our memory about something gives a stimulus to amygdala or that part of the brain that gives us emotions. The trigger for Nostalgia is something from the past. Our emotions about the past can be happy or sad. However, in the present context, Nostalgia is generally about happy memories of the days gone by.

What exactly is Nostalgia broken down to its commonest sense? It is a fact that we do like the present when it becomes past. There is a good one about a mother telling her son who was making fuss about eating what she’d cooked, “Eat it. Years later you’d be telling another woman how good your mother cooked.”

As long as we are aware that we like all Nostalgia about a miserable present until it becomes past, we shall be happy with that old gramophone we struggled with and which still gave screechy sound in comparison to crystal clear digital sound of today.

Pic courtesy: ucl.ac.uk

In our minds, we should go back to those exact times that we are nostalgic about and see if we really liked them at that time. A friend of mine put up a facebook post about the era of the postman and nostalgically reminisced about the postman visiting us leisurely and reading to us our letters and delivering money orders. Others have written about walking to the school (there were no buses those days) and breathing in the invigorating air. It is yet another thing that we hated being chased by the street dogs and hated walking in the scorching sun but the filter of Nostalgia leaves out the bad memories. But I guess if we don’t have nostalgia we can say bye bye to about 50 percent writing in the world; including this one.

There is, therefore, romanticism about Nostalgia. For example, this Kishore Kumar song from the 1964 movie ‘Door Gagan Ki Chhaon Mein’ (Far Under The Sky):

Albele din pyaare, mere bichhade saathi saareHaay! Kahaan gaye, haay! kahaan gaye(Wonderful lovely days, all my friends I parted from
Oh, where are they now)
Koi lauta de mere beete hue din,
Beete hue din vo hai pyaare pal chhin.
(Someone, return to me my past,
My past, those dear moments)

Main akela to na tha, the mere saath kayi,
Ek aandhi si udhi, jo bhi tha leke gayi
Aaj main dhoondu kahan, kho gaye jaane kidhar
(I wasn’t alone, many were with me
A storm came, what was there it took away
Today, where should I search for those that were lost)
Beete hue din…

Mere khvabon ke nagar, mare sapno ke shehar,
Pee liya jinake liye, maine jeevan ka zehar.
Aise bhi din the kabhi, meri duniya thi meri.
(The towns of my dreams, the cities of my imagination
For them only I drank the poison of life
Those were the days, when my world was my own)
Beete hue din…

And for those who’d prefer to hear this thought in English, here is Mary Hopkins singing ‘Those Were The Days’:

Finally, the Moral of the Story: Treasure every moment when you have it rather than when it is gone.

In short when you get a tooth pulled out you miss the slow pain it used to cause and your tongue goes to the exact spot nostalgically. However, you should relish the moment at the dentist’s chair too.

God, I am becoming a Saint in my old age. Let me love it now rather than later when everyone has finished hating me for writing this post. One of my friends feels that the word ‘Nostalgia’ gives a feel as if it is a nose-related problem. In which case, one can imagine a doctor prescribing a tablet like DCold to have with warm water twice a day after meals. Sounds far fetched? Think again: the other day a drug called scopolamine was in the news. If the powder is blown into your face you have an instant loss of memory and are immediately cured of Nostalgia. Perhaps later scientists will discover a drug whose powder, when blown into our faces will convert all our bad, sad, horrible and unpleasant memories into ‘good old days’.

Nostalgia indeed.

JILL THE RIPPER AND SATYAMEV JAYATE

So now we are told that the 19th century Jack the Ripper was a woman after all. John Morris in his new book ‘Jack the Ripper: The Hand of a Woman‘ has argued that Ripper who ripped the innards of five female victims in ten weeks in 1888 was a Welsh born Lizzie Williams. Mary Jane Kelly was the last of the victims and the book theorises that she was having an affair with Lizzie’s husband Sir John who ran an abortion clinic. So, here was Lizzie who couldn’t have kids killing someone who could have kids not with anyone but with her own husband.If this is true, one would be instantly reminded of the English playwright and poet William Congreve who in his 1697 tragi-drama ‘The Morning Bride’ wrote: “Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned,” spoken by Zara in Act III, Scene VIII.

Pic courtesy: disturbia.hubpages.com

Then there is the recent case of Anjali, wife of Ajay Singh, a senior officer in Shipping Corporation of India who refused to accompany her husband on posting to Port Blair. She must have been aware that at one time, during our slavery days with the British, the freedom fighters (rebels as the British called them) were deported to Port Blair (Kala Pani or Black Waters) and whilst men used to be sent there, it was no place for women; certainly not the liberated women who live in Delhi, Mumbai, Lucknow etc and think of taking over the reigns of power; women who are advocates and not only know legal wranglings but are adept at the lingo that go with it; women who when they become chief ministers send the central government cowering in fear and pilots to fly planes to go and fetch their sandals; women who ask for a divorce because their husbands talk to their relatives in his language. The divorce court judge, in the case of Anjali and Ajay Singh invoked Ramayana and asked her, “Sita followed Ram, why can’t you?”With this background, lets now turn to Aamir Khan’s Satyamev Jayate on the television. The first episode on female infanticide was so gripping and ably put up that it left people wondering why such an issue had not been discussed with such fervour before. On the television debates many of the champions of women’s rights and causes went viral about their assertions that Aamir Khan was not the first one to air such views. They also disdainfully predicted that nothing would ever change.

I found all this rather strange. It is acceptable to us to have celebrities model for anything from detergents to cars; but, should they use their celebrity status to provoke active debate on issues that really affect us, they are clearly exceeding their brief. Of course, we know all about dwindling female to male ratios; of course we know all about the situation in Haryana where men don’t have enough women to marry, where women work in the fields when men sit on their khaats (cots) and smoke hukkahs and expect their womenfolk to return and cook their meals too; of course we know how in Patiala in a well female foetuses were found discarded (Is There Reason to Celebrate Women’s Day in India?). But, lets ask what’s wrong with a celebrity asking us to look within and find answers before pointing finger at others? Should we leave to Mamata Sharma (even deadlier than the other Mamata) who, as chairperson for National Commission for Women (NCW) said it was alright to call women sexy? (Read: Hi Sexy – ‘Gateway to Future’ For Indian Women)

That’s really what is wrong with our country: we slang ordinary people debating important issues since we assert that these should be left to experts. What experts? An ordinary citizen Anna Hazare starts a people’s movement against corruption and the parliamentarians take him to task that issues such as these should be rightfully tackled by the elected representatives of the people (each one of them represented by an average of not more than 9 percent of the electorate (read: How Proud Should We Be Of The Indian Republic At 62?))

I think Aamir Khan has done right by instigating public debate (and hopefully action) on a very core issue. Today is the Mothers Day; will we have enough women left to become mothers?

As far as Jill the Ripper and Anjalis are concerned, these too are strange aberrations and certainly take the focus away from the real issue. In the northern part of our country, the incidence of reverse dowry (a phenomenon in which the bride and her siblings demand money and favours from the bridegroom failing which they would accuse him and his parents of demanding dowry and expose them to untold hardships and jail) are now becoming more common. Indeed, I wish Aamir Khan’s programme’s research team had brought out how Jill the Ripper, Anjalis, Mayawatis and Mamatas, by their abrasive and sometimes violent actions, spoil the cases of the majority women who have to suffer indignities and injustices on an everyday basis.

Left to myself I would give a lot of marks to Aamir Khan for Satyamev Jayate and the many unsung heroines who came forward to tell the tales of how they were stopped from becoming mothers simply because they would have given birth to female children.

Happy Mothers’ Day.

ROGER LIVES

In the morning my wife and I sat before the Sri Guru Granth Sahib; the holy book that has guided us for several years and which has been a gift to me by my mother on my birthday after my father died on the 1st of May 1984 in a jeep accident (Read: Seventy-Eight Not Out). An appropriate way to begin the Mothers’ Day? Yes; but, there was another reason to say formal prayers today. It was one year back that the entire family sat at Parel Pets Hospital (The Bai Sakarbai Dinshaw Petit Hospital for Animals at Parel) having cremated our bundle of joy: Roger just two months before his twelfth birthday. For a long time after we cremated him – I reminisced today about the scene one year ago with my younger son, Arun – the entire family sat in a trance as if moving away would somehow break a link.

We didn’t know it at that time but the last few breaths of our baby

Today’s waak (select reading as a blessing/teaching) was from Raag Sorathh and was written by the fifth Guru of the Sikhs: Guru Arjan Dev ji. As if answering my wife’s and my persistent (though unspoken) doubts it clearly brought out that Hari (God) looks after you wherever you are in the Brahamand (universe) before and after death. A very comforting thought indeed. Roger has to be somewhere in the universe; he couldn’t have died. He must be having another assignment somewhere, another family to love, another place to spread the joy of his being, another mama and papa to go to walks with, other children to play with. (Read: Roger And Us – A Love Story Without An End)

Just next to the Crematorium – No Entry? Well, it was No Exit

But, we are mere human beings: we are neither gods nor dogs (both anagrammatic, both meaning the same). So, whilst wishing him the best in his new surroundings, we don’t mind telling that we miss him everywhere in the house. Here’s Roger coming to greet me in the morning just two weeks before he went. In our earlier house, the beds were low and he could have jumped up to hug and play. But, in our house after retirement, being a small house, every little space has to made use of. Thus, the beds are high with storage space under. Also, Roger had become too old to jump up.

The pitiable look for not having been able to jump up

But, if one mama has gone for bath, Roger would be on the mat just outside, patiently waiting to be fussed and hugged:

Waiting patiently outside the bathroom door

In the end, since all of us, that is my sons and I, went for our work, my wife had Roger with her as her child and companion. This is how Roger felt safe, secure and comfortable with her:

She would pick him up and put him on the bed

When he was alive, we frequently complained about the ticks and his falling fur. After he went away, one day, my wife found a few strands of his fur and we were elated as if we had found a great treasure.

I am too small a being to question about God’s Creation. However, I have to admit that I have often questioned about God’s wisdom in having a mismatch between our normal ages and those of our pets. Under normal circumstances, we, having been born earlier, would die before our children. However, in case of our pets, sadly, they die before us. I was thinking of an answer to this and then one of my friends put up a beautiful piece on the facebook. I immediately commented that it was the best post I ever read. It is not my intention to repeat the complete piece here. But, here is the gist:

Pic Courtesy: Carole Hughes

A Dog’s Purpose?
(from a 6-year-old).

“Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog’s owners, Ron, his wife Lisa , and their little boy Shane, were all very attached to Belker; but since there was no hope against cancer, the dog was to be given euthanasia.Ron and Lisa felt it would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience.

The little boy seemed to accept Belker’s transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker’s Death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, “I know why.”

Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I’d never heard a more comforting explanation. It has changed the way I try and live.

He said,”People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life — like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?” The Six-year-old continued,”Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don’t have to stay as long.”

And where do dogs go? Well, we know where Roger went: to another part of the universe to spread his message of abiding love.

Roger Lives.

He is somewhere around….it is just that we can’t see him.

THE GREAT INDIAN JUDICIAL CIRCUS

So, someone has done something wrong to you (like having encroached on your land or swindled you in a deal) and you want to seek justice through the great Indian judicial system? Think again; it might just be alright to make peace with your misfortune straightway than to wait for nearly three decades, go through indignity, utter misery, frustration, and despondence and then make peace with your original misfortune plus the misfortune of having gone through the Indian judicial system. The choice is entirely yours.First of all the Indian judicial system is like any other system; that is, at the operative level there is no system at all. Its aim does not appear to be to get any justice; but, to keep the litigants in a perpetual state of litigation. In such a scenario the only component of the judicial system that gains is the Lawyer. The lawyer or the Vakeel is thus the pivot of the Indian system of justice. He or she is in great demand in the wedding market since within no time he, through his sincere efforts to prolong the misery of the litigants, earns enough money to buy all the things that the Indian upper class aspires: car, house, plots of land as investment, and other trappings of affluence.

Indian lawyer: the first to chuck stones for his own cause (pic courtesy: deccanchronicle.com)

The litmus test of the Indian judicial system’s failure is the oft repeated threat between the litigants: “If you don’t behave, I shall take you to the court.” Whilst, on paper, the Indian law stipulates that a person is innocent until proved guilty beyond reasonable doubt, in effect, as soon as your case is filed in any of the Indian courts, your punishment starts. Do you remember Mr. Bumble in Dickens’s Oliver Twist telling us that the law is an ass? What he meant was that the English law was stupid and very stubborn. I wonder what Mr. Bumble would have said after seeing Indian law in action: stubborn, stupid, archaic, chaotic, and suited to disgrace both the complainant and the defendant. Perhaps such an animal doesn’t exist but Indians are known to be beyond impossibility.

If your impression of the atmosphere in and around an Indian courtroom is based on Perry Mason novels or scenes in a Hindi movie, you are in for a shock when you go to an Indian court at the basic level. Even after the computers have been introduced, you would find disinterested court writers sitting everywhere like monkeys on a tree charging exorbitant sums for writing anything for you from an affidavit to a power of attorney. Most of them type with a finger each of the two hands. The reason why these johnnies earn their money is because the legalese in Indian court is kept as difficult as possible. It would remind you of a train arriving at the Chennai Harbour Terminus and stopping a hundred metres away so that people alighting would be forced to use the coolies. Fifteen minutes later, the train then goes right up to the concourse. Similarly, the great Indian judicial system makes it as inconvenient for you as possible until you learn through a painful experience that you could write the whole thing yourself and in better grammar than the court writers.

Indian lawyer is a hungry wolf. He has come far from the ideals of India’s most eminent barrister Mahatma Gandhi who left his office of profit to fight for India’s downtrodden. Nowadays, more often than not the Indian lawyer is hand in gloves with the lawyer of the other litigant so that both can usurp as much money as possible from both the parties. A friend of mine had a tenancy dispute in his house in Chandigarh. After years of paying fees and time dissipated one day he overheard his lawyer telling the wrongful tenant’s lawyer, “I think with a little bit of luck you can take the first floor of the house and I can take the ground floor.”

Eminent Indian Lawyer Mahatma Gandhi; how far has the present Indian lawyer come from his ideals?

Indian lawyers often tell the litigants, especially if they have spent life in a disciplined service like one of the armed forces, that they have no knowledge of the “intricacies” of the Indian legal system. One of the “intricacies” that the litigants learn about is that anything that sounds logical and reasonable is likely to be overruled. Very often, the litigants prepare the entire case, evidence, arguments etc themselves whilst the lawyers collect the fees.

Almost everything that you have to present in the court has to be typed on a stamp paper. This is the means by which the state is supposed to earn its revenue, say, from land deals. There is money for everyone here. It is only once in a while that a Rupees twenty thousand crores scam of counterfeit stamp papers involving one Abdul Karim Telgi is unearthed but, at the smaller level, hoodwinking people through stamp papers is an accepted practice. It is reputed that everyday more than Ten Thousand Crores are added to Indian black-money through under priced land and other deals. Who provides all these shortcuts to the people? The vakeel, who else? But, he/she never gives any shortcuts to his/her fees.

Whilst on the subject of land deals, let me tell you that if you steal some one’s money or other assets you can be jailed. However, in India if you steal some one’s land, you have the total freedom to use it for the next two decades or so until the court decides if it has actually been encroached upon or not. The Indian land-revenue record system, the ass that it is, actually encourages such a situation. Despite the urgent need to computerise land revenue records so as to do away with ambiguities, the land-revenue officials: the Patwari, the Tehsildar, the Kanungo, and the District Revenue Officer (DRO) get great powers and mischief value by keeping these records as flexible as possible. In my home state Himachal until very recently the records were kept on a latha (a thick white cloth) and the exact measurements on the latha to be compared with the scale would be subject to many interpretations.

A ‘demarcation’ in progress

The loopholes in the Indian legal system are the the bread and butter of the Indian lawyers; the more well versed one is in exploiting these to his client’s advantage, the better is his reputation as a successful lawyer. Thus, most of these “successful” lawyers get rid of the unwanted baggage of their scruples and ethics at a very early stage in their career.

That the Indian judicial system does not provide any hope to the law-abiding citizen totally escapes the attention of the law makers, judges, lawyers; indeed all those connected with the Great Indian Judicial System. As it is Indian cities now rank amongst the worst in the world in terms of quality of life. We certainly rank extremely low in our tortoise like judicial system. After a successful sting operation by Tehelaka, for example, it took a decade for BJP President Mr Bangaru Laxman to be convicted of bribery; and this when he was shot on camera taking bribe. The other day, in my hometown Kandaghat in Himachal Pradesh I went to see my lawyer and saw a folder with the title in Urdu. This was the prevalent language in this part of the world before Hiamchal became a state on 25th Jan 1971. At my query the lawyer admitted that indeed the land dispute case of his father’s client was taken over by him and had now become much complicated since both the litigant’s lands had been divided amongst the children, their spouses and grand-children. However, the lawyer assured me, as he must have done to his client, that “soon” there would be a decree in his favour. This, indeed, is the abiding faith of all concerned in the great Indian judicial circus: no matter how undignified it is now for you, no matter how many years of your precious life you have wasted fighting a meaningless case, no matter how much more you have lost than the original cost of your land; the future is still bright.

At one time the Indian judges were considered to be paragons of virtue and ethics. Nowadays, they too fall prey to the lure of quick money. Almost every third day in the papers one can read about some judge or the other facing Inquiry for illegal gratification and for usurping money. Therefore, whilst earlier despite all the delays the quality of Indian justice was somewhat lauded, nowadays, it is as suspect as the quality of any other Indian system.

One of the worst things that can happen to you is if you don’t reside in your hometown but your work has taken you thousands of kilometres away. In such a case, all that the other party has to do to bring you to your heels is to file a private criminal complaint against you. You will now be required to spend lakhs of rupees defending yourself. It would take years and years and finally even if you win the battle you have lost precious years of your life which no one can repay you.

Indian legal system is not just an ass; it is a complete circus of asinine animals.

HAPPY SIXTIETH BIRTHDAY TO MY BEST FRIEND

Anyone who has seen the Hindi movie ‘Sholay’ would be familiar with the kind of enduring friendship that existed between Veeru and Jai. Of particular interest was the song, on the stolen mobike with a side-car, with the words, “Ye dosti hum nahin todenge; todenge dum magar tera saath na chhodenge” (This friendship, we shall never break; even after death do us apart, we shall still be together). People often feel that movies are just projections on the silver-screen and one can, in real life, rarely come across such far-fetched scenarios. Well, to an extent people are right; Jaya (My friend Amarjeet Bajwa’s wife) didn’t have to dance in front of dacoits to keep Amar alive, nor did Lyn (my wife) have to wear a white saree. However, many of the other things happened between Amar and me….really. We swore by our dostiand we still do. As far as the mobike is concerned, it wasn’t a stolen one; it was Amar’s own and I wish we had preserved it in remembrance of all the fun we had over it….and in one particular case, with one of us over it and the other having fallen off somewhere in the wilderness.

I owe my life to Amar…well, almost. After a strenuous game of squash racquets (in which he’d invariably beat me) I developed severe chest pain and was to be rushed to the No. 6 Air Force Hospital in Coimbatore (South India) where both of us were posted in Navy’s Leadership School named Agrani. A few days ago a sailor undergoing the Leadership CVourse had died of undetected Ischemic Heart Disease (ISD) and hence Flight Lieutenant Malse – the doctor on duty – didn’t want to take chances. I was promptly labeled a case of IHD and after the customary ECG etc, the doctor counseled me about stress-control (both physical and mental). Amar came to see me in the hospital with his usual ebullience. The seriousness of what the doctor had told me completely escaped his attention. He had bought a second-hand Standard car with a Citroen body. What better way to test the car than to take his best pal for a ride? As we took off from the hospital Amar explained to me that the car had taken part in some Malyalam movie. On the way back, I learnt that in addition to its uniqueness for having acted in the Mallu flick, it was one of the first cars equipped with “dual propulsion”; for, when the car engine and the passengers’ hearts would miss several beats, it had to be pushed until the engine would start again. So, there I was, a declared patient of IHD, with doctor’s instructions about tension, stress and the like fresh in my mind, pushing Bajwa’s car until the secondary way of propulsion, that is, one with the running engine would be restored. The doctor had planned some painful, expensive and time-consuming tests to confirm his diagnosis. But, Amar by a simple experiment conclusively proved that if I could push his Citroen in the middle of the night, I couldn’t be suffering from any Heart-Disease. Finally, after one year’s of medical tests, Amar was proved right.

Bajwa had cure for most – if not all – of my problems; none of those fancy cures but highly effective and instantaneous ones; something like, “Have a headache? Well, hit yourself hard with a hammer on your toe and poof, the headache is gone”. We were sitting together in the Oberoi Sheraton at Bombay past midnight, just a few hours before Lyn was to join me after our secret marriage. I was going over all the things that I had collected for her: a fridge, gas, cutlery, plates etc. Suddenly I remembered and said aloud that I hadn’t got sugar even to make the first cup of tea with my newly wedded wife. Bajwa, with great fanfare took the sugar bowl from the table at the hotel and emptied the entire thing in my kerchief and for effect took out the rose from the vase and gave it to me to present to Lyn. Indeed, a few hours later, when we received Lyn at Bombay VT, I held on to the single rose as the most precious possession of my life. I never promised Lyn a rose garden after marriage but thanks to Bajwa she was received with a rose.

Today, at the stroke of midnight, Amar turned sixty. We had never dreamt that we’d reach that age. On that night, when we did our own version of “Ye Dosti” on Bajwa’s mobike on the Marine Drive with both of us as pissed as Veeru was atop the water tank in Sholay, with speeds well past the sound barrier (well, it was correct; because we couldn’t have heard each other and we didn’t hear at all the traffic cop’s whistle), just one small obstruction on the Marine Drive would have finished our lives some thirty years back.

Hence, the very first thing that I have to tell Amar today is: Dost, my best pal, we are lucky to have survived so long. In your case, it is sheer goodwill that you generate around you that doesn’t let you be anything but the life of the party. Do you remember when we climbed the temple hill at Maddukkarai from the tortuous and dangerous rocky side? One small slip and we would never have dreamt to be sixty. Also, do you remember how we went to Ooty etc by the official jeep that we thought had only one useful instrument, that is, the accelerator.

Bajwa, Sir; truly for us life during those days (and even now sometimes), was a happy chance, a one act play: Hamara Drama. For those not knowing the story of this play, I’d take a few minutes to explain that we wrote a play on the making of a play for participating in the Command Dramatic Championship. The play itself more daring than most of our feats: to pull the legs of all in authority and get away with it; most of them sitting in the audience. Other than a few characters who momentarily came on the stage, this full-length play had only Bajwa and me as the actors. We walked away with the Best Play award; with me getting the Best Actor award. As soon as we finished getting the awards we drove from Cochin to Coimbatore on Bajwa’s mobike and celebrated till wee hours of the morning with countless bottles of beer. And then, after we were seeing a dozen of each other, we went for another “ye dosti” drives. This is when I fell off the bike and Bajwa kept relating his jokes to me rejoicing in not having me interrupt him to tell a better one. After nearly three hours we found each other again.

Anyone reading it so far would think that Amar and me were the most agreeable of the friends. Little would they know that the trick in keeping the lamp of friendship alive was to force a collective decision before the other could say “No”. However, after drinks, the mask of such geniality was invariably off and we were conscious of the fact that we have to make the other see reason, such as the way perceived by us. This invariably led to no holds barred fights between us and everyone would conclude that Bajwa and I had fallen apart like Humpty Dumpty. However, “ye dosti” sentiment would trouble us in the night to the extent that in the wee hours of the morning one or the other would tip-toe to the other’s room to check if all was well. There were occasions when we made up and went searching for dinner at about two in the morning.

Amar, Sir; you would always have the lead by a simple historical fact; that is, you were born two years before me; and hence you have beaten me to reaching sixty before me; and like I did in squash-racquets after having been beaten by you, I hold no grudge. I rejoice in your reaching the age of the metal: silver in your hair, gold in your teeth, iron in your diet and lead in your—-you know where. What do I wish for you for having accomplished this grand feat? Well, the most precious thing that I can wish for you is: Stay the way you are. Many can claim love, liking, respect, friendship, other relationship with you: but, I know and you know: ‘Todenge dum magar, tera saath na chhodenge”.

God bless you for having been the most intense influence of my life. At every age of yours you have been unique. However, Sixty is the age to be…all others before this were just plain matters of dates on calendar; now is when the fun starts: no one can blame a senior citizen of having a heart as young as a teenager that you have always maintained, and hence, you can get away with everything.

And….if you disagree with me for some of the lurid details above, I can always guess that you already had your drink!

Amar turns sixty today
The starting speed of his bike,
We have all gathered to wish him well,
Friends and relatives alike.

Happy Sixtieth, my friend,
Here’s wishing you all the best,
Lets just have fun, the way we did,
Without worrying about the rest.

Lets say a little thanksgiving pal,
To God who kept us alive;
Though we tried our best to reach Him,
When we went on our nocturnal drive.

May God always preserve your smile,
That has won many a heart.
And should you feel the pangs of age,
Let me tell you: it is just the start.

THE LURE OF GOING ON A LIMB

Yesterday was a sad day indeed; Shailendra Singh Bisht, a 26 years old mountaineer crashed to death whilst rappelling down the 14 storey Great Adventure Mall, which had just been inaugurated in Greater NOIDA by the union minister Subodh Kant Sahay. Shailendra was a professional stuntsman who had performed this feat several times. Little did he know, however, that the rappelling rope was almost 100 feet short of reaching the ground. At the speed at which he had rappelled, he would have reached the end very fast.A few weeks ago, during an adventure camp at Zenith Falls near Khapoli, Maharashtra, when I saw my younger friends rappelling down a difficult rocky hill, I too got the urge to do the same. Here I was, a 58 years old retired Navy officer, as far removed from hills and rappelling as you can get, unable to suppress the impulse to do those things that the trio in the film Zindagi Nahin Milegi Dobara (You Can’t Get Your Life Again) had the urge to do; literally dying (as the slang goes) to stay alive.

Sunbyanyname in his own Zindagi Nahin Milegi Dobara

There are men and women who do sky diving, suspended in the air as birds, opening their parachutes at the last minute. Then there are others who do tight rope walking between high-rise buildings defying death. One slip and precious life ends. However, they have this inner compulsion to accomplish the near impossible.

On 21st of January this year, Laura Dekker, a sixteen year old Dutch/German/New Zealander became the youngest person to circumnavigate the globe single-handed. At that age she had the greater part of her life ahead of her. She started in Aug 2010, a year after she had planned, when a Dutch Child Care Council stopped her departure on grounds of shared parental custody between her about-to-be-divorced parents. Dekker later commented about the authorities in an interview, saying “They thought it was dangerous. Well, everywhere is dangerous. They don’t sail and they don’t know what boats are, and they are scared of them.” As soon as I read the news, the first thing that occurred to me was the mental set-up of someone as young as her, braving seas, known and unknown dangers alone, all alone for more than a year. If something was to happen to her, she would have died a solitary and lonely death and probably even her dead body won’t have been found. And yet, after she has accomplished what she set out to do, she would have removed a number of words from her dictionary: Fear, Impossible, Small, and Underage.

Laura Dekker the youngest person to circumnavigate the globe (pic courtesy: in2eastafrica.net)

So, what makes men and women to go out on a limb? It can’t be fame and glory since there are much easier and less dangerous methods of obtaining these. One possible clue is given by a mountaineer who was asked why did he climb mountains. His reply was, “Because they are there”. Something within a person beckons him or her to go beyond the limits of human endurance and capabilities…beyond the rainbow; when you are face to face with only your Maker or yourself. Do you remember what Ian Fleming the author of James Bond books said? He had a book by that name: “You Only Live Twice: once when you are born and once when you look death in the face”.

Men and women would do anything to live and soar, even die doing it. When I was in my teens Richard Bach wrote his novella titled ‘Jonathan Livingstone Seagull’. The story is about the gull called Jonathan Livingstone who is bored by routine existence and wants to push his own capability to fly beyond what the seagulls can do. Because he wants to try something different, he is expelled from the flock. However, he persists and one day achieves perfection. “You’ve got to understand that a seagull is an unlimited idea of freedom, an image of the Great Gull.” He realizes that you have to be true to yourself: “You have the freedom to be yourself, your true self, here and now, and nothing can stand in your way.” The idea of Richard Bach’s novella fascinated everyone immensely. Neil Diamond brought out a complete album of songs named Jonathan Livingstone Seagull with such songs as: Be, Flight of the Gull, Lonely Looking Sky, The Odyssey, and Dear Father. Here is Neil Diamond’s ‘Be’ for you:

Well, ladies and gentlemen, there may be other good reasons for men and women to go out on a limb. But, I have given you what I believe to be the best reason to do so.

INDIAN ARMY BEFORE AND AFTER OPERATION VIJAY

Vijay means Victory, the sacred adage of the Indian Army. In the history of the Indian Army, there have been three campaigns called Operation Vijay. In the first two, the Indian Army tasted total triumph with its head held high. The first one was the liberation of Goa in 1961 and the second one was Kargil War in 1999. Why is this that the Indian Army, at least those men that can still think straight and independent without recourse to undying sycophancy, has to be apologetic about the still-in-progress Operation Vijay (Kumar Singh)? To answer this question objectively, let me relate a personal experience.

Op Vijay 1961 – Liberation of Goa

In 1996, on promotion to the rank of Captain in the Indian Navy, I was selected to undergo the 25th Higher Command Course with the Army. The next Army Chief, or Army Chief designate, General Bikram Singh, was my course mate in the AHCC. During our first operational tour, we visited the Northern Sector. General KV Krishna Rao (Retd) was the Governor of Jammu & Kashmir. On the first evening of our visit to Srinagar we were invited to At-Home with His Excellency, the Governor. In the entire AHCC, there were just two Indian Navy officers. As soon as the Governor spotted me, he jokingly commented, “It appears to me that the Indian Navy has a strange way to elect a Chief”. The remark was a dig at the quaint way in which Admiral Vishnu Bhagwat’s impending succession as the Naval Chief on First of October 1996 had started a bush-fire of polemics. As Flag Officer Commanding-in-Chief of the Western Naval Command, from which post Admiral Bhagwat took over as the Chief, he was at the helm of controversies. Earlier, as Chief of Staff of the same command, he had been accused of phone-tapping of his adversaries. Later, on 30th Dec 1998, he had the dubious distinction of having been sacked by the Government of India.

As I felt somewhat regretful about the Navy chief’s succession being hotly debated in the open, little did I know that 16 years later when Bikram would be at the verge of taking over, the heat of controversies would leave the Vishnu Bhagwat episode cold in comparison.

India is not a country where the people at large are generally knowledgeable about defence matters. The dumbing down of our people caused by the relentless diatribe unleashed by the media may be a recent phenomenon; however, Indians have always liked to indulge more in rabble-rousing jingoism than proud patriotism. The attempts to bring down the armed forces to the low levels achieved by the civil administration are only matched by the arrogant ignorance about achievements of the armed forces in general and army in particular. When I visited J&K and was briefed about the incomparable way Army has conducted itself there, my belief became stronger that we have to be thankful to the Indian Army for not only peace and progress in Kashmir but also for keeping it safe as integral part of the country. Most of our countrymen are not at all au fait with the strategic sense, restraint, calm and exemplary commitment displayed by the Army under trying conditions.

How many people are aware that the Army’s strategic sense in Kashmir includes giving credit to the police and civil administration for jobs that army does for the people; eg, Op Sadhbhavna (Operation Goodwill), and safe conduct of elections.

With such general ignorance and neglect of the Army, every once in a while, someone or the other brings out how the country not only does not have a monument to honour its soldiers but most of our countrymen have no idea of what the Army does, its training, operational readiness, achievements etc.

I would say that about ten percent of the people who read the papers and watch the television are aware of the glorious accomplishments of the Indian Army. Ninety percent either are ignorant or ain’t impressed. For example, the Liberation of Bangladesh in the 1971 Indo-Pak War is being taught in the war colleges abroad as one of the finest examples of a most successful campaigns. However, not many are really aware what it entailed to fight a war in which even the political aims were not defined by the government. Many people have forgotten that in 1947-48, when called upon to do a duty that was suddenly thrust on it, the Army achieved the unsaid aims gloriously and that we are in a mess in Kashmir because the political leadership failed to follow up on Army’s Vijay.

Op Vijay – 1999 Kargil

George Fernandez as Raksha Mantri (Defence Minister) threatened to send the babus (bureaucrats) to Siachin (at an altitude of more than 20,000 feet; where the Indian Army maintains permanent presence in arguably the most inhospitable conditions in the world) to let them have a feel of what is entailed when their babudom procrastinates decisions to be taken for procuring urgently required equipment to survive at those heights.

Volumes have been written about the ever deteriorating civil-military relationship – a relationship between one of the worst in the world and one of the best in the world. Of course, the thankless nation and national leadership would like to keep the Army as a tethered puppy ready to become a mastiff with the external enemy but otherwise ready to lick the feet of the political and bureaucratic bigwigs.

In this scenario, we have the latest Operation Vijay (Kumar Singh). There is an age old precept that bad news and publicity travels much faster than good news. So, whereas in the years of hard work, dedication, commitment and achievements of the Indian Army, very few people are really appreciative of the army (I put the figure at about 10 percent of the media – watching people), now, nearly 90 percent are aware that a Chief, for “purely personal reasons” has attempted to drag the Army into needless wrangling. No one is denying that the matters of corruption and deteriorating civil-military relations need to be tackled. But, exactly how Admiral Vishnu Bhagwat’s infamous attempts to sort out these issues were an afterthought to his initial and much publicised opposition to the appointment of Vice Admiral Harnder Singh as Deputy Chief of Naval Staff; General VK Singh’s belated pursuits to sort out corruption in army procurements and remedy the worsening civil-military relations, would always be seen by his abortive attempts at upsetting the carefully laid out succession plan.

Hence, the adverse offshoots of Operation Vijay (Kumar Singh) are:

He has made the task of his successor extremely difficult as far as relationship with the government is concerned. Without any fault of General Bikram Singh, the government and the nation would be suspicious of any move by him, if at all, to set right the balance of civil-military relations; for the simple reason that everyone involved would be assessing how the General personally gains by it.
The good that the Army did is, as it is, known only by a few. Now, with the personal greed of the General VK Singh, what the countrymen would remember of the Indian Army would be unsavoury wranglings for power, avarice, corruption and megalomaniac ambitions.
The impression that the rot in the Army is deep rooted is strengthened by the vituperation of the camp loyal to General VK Singh against the heretics and vice-versa. In this milieu the all important issue of setting right the balance of civil-military relations has taken – and will take – a back seat. I don’t know why this simple fact has not sunk in with the loyalists.
Lastly, let us weigh the effect of this, and such controversies in the past, on the junior leadership of the army. The senior hierarchy often talks disparagingly about the ‘decline in values and moral standards of those who join the army nowadays as compared to the good-ol’-days‘. The junior officers and men, therefore, would be excused if now onwards they have a bias that the seniors should first set their own house in order (Read ‘Leadership in the Navy – Past, Present and Future‘) and stop washing army’s dirty linen in public. A few decades back, in the US Naval Institute Proceedings (USNIP) there was an article titled ‘The Fish Rots at the Head’

I am quite sure that after General VK Singh has taken his well-deserved retirement and finished writing his bestseller memoir regarding how there were matters of national security involved in the “purely personal” issue of his date of birth, he would pause and think about the damage his continued belligerent stand has done at various levels. This would, I am afraid, continue for some time to come.

It is easier to throw a stone in the pond; it is harder to let the ripples die down suddenly.

BOND WITH THE BRAND

So Daniel Craig, as James Bond, is going to be swigging a beer in his next movie and not his trade-mark Martini. Heineken has already thought of it as the best thing that has happened to them since they started brewing the bubbly in 1873. I am reminded of the time when a corporate honcho sought an audience with the Pope and Pope was visibly disturbed and screamed “Noooooo”. All that the corporate boss wanted the Pope to do was to change just one word in the prayer; instead of ‘Give us this day our daily bread’, he had suggested, “Give us this day our daily Kellogg’s”

Whatever way you look at it, Martini suited the Licensed to Kill eminently especially with his bevy of beauties. Great many jokes, limericks and ditties came up about the cocktail of gin and vermouth that James Bond sipped whilst lounging on a beach with danger lurking not far from him. One of these is:

Martinis, my girl, are deceptive,
Have two at the most;
Three, you are under the table,
Four, you are under the host.

I think it was Noel Coward who said, “The best way to make Martini is to have gin in a glass and then wave it in the general direction of Italy.” That’s the reach of advertising; you find the ads everywhere asking you to do this, wear that, eat this, drive that and so on. You are swayed a little. However, nothing sways you with the same force as when a celebrity endorses it. When Kapil Dev told us, “Palmolive da jawab nahin” (There is nothing like (shaving with) Palmolive), a vast number of men got convinced that it would not only give them a good shave but also may help them to become cricketing all-rounders amongst the best in the world.

Opinions would be divided whether a beer drinking Bond would appear as svelte as he appears nursing a glass of Martini. After all, beer is more associated with a belly than with belles; burp more than with melody. However, chances are that beer drinking may get associated with laissez faire after Bond has sipped it and about to throw the can away and sees in the can the reflection of an attacker getting ready to attack him from behind.

Other than Bond with his Martini, the world of advertisement is nostalgic about ads about smoking. How coolly the hero used to take the last puffs of a cigarette, stub it out with his white shoes and then only turn to the pack of ruffians waiting to be thrammed by him. Ah, the promise of Marlboro country where men would be men and horses would be horses. Or the guy who would effortlessly win a sailing regatta and the first thing that he would do after that would be to puff at his Scissors, with his sexy dame on his side, and the voice over would say, “For men of action – satisfaction.”

Cold drinks or soft-drinks are the hot – nay, cold favourites of the ad-makers; nothing has changed from the time a young Rekha sensuously sipped on her Gold Spot and suggestively crooned, “Taazgi ka maza lijiye, pyaas apni bujha lijiye.” (Enjoy the taste of freshness; quench your thirst); and, all of us watching the a mango juice drop, in slow motion, seductively falling on Katrina Kaif’s lips. “What good luck has a drop of yellow juice, as compared to us, who only watch those succulent lips from a distance”, thousands of men bemoaned .

Ads on detergents too have been the kind that do everything except deter gents; ladies’ views are reserved on this since they are often shown to be using the soaps for bringing back the whiteness in the clothes, whilst wiping the sweat on their brows. One can think of Surf Excel, or a numbered detergent like 501, but the ad campaign that took India by storm was, without doubt, that of Nirma Washing Powder. It became iconic and decisively showed what ads can do to the popularity and hence, sales of products:

Other than sensuousness, and coolness, humour in ads has been a great sell. The funnier the ad, the more people see it and like it. I remember the time when Coca Cola was selected as “Official sponsor” of the Cricket ODI World Cup, Pepsi came up with a highly successful, imaginative and comical ad, “Nothing ‘official’ about it.”

So, now that Bond has to ‘Officially’ drink beer, perhaps the day is not far, when Bond, like our own action hero Akshay Kumar, will do anything to ‘Taste the Thunder’. Bye bye, Martini.

Sunbyanyname

DIMINISHING DAD

CURTAIN CALL

HOW UNBIASED OR INNOCENT CAN WE BECOME?

KACHCHE AAM KA ACHCHAAR (RAW MANGO PICKLE) – A RECIPE BY THE GOVERNMENT OF INDIA

THE ARGUMENTATIVE INDIAN

PRAYER OF THE MAROONED

THE BEST OF ZINDAGI (LIFE) SONGS

NOSEY ABOUT NOSTALGIA

As long as we are aware that we like all Nostalgia about a miserable present until it becomes past, we shall be happy with that old gramophone we struggled with and which still gave screechy sound in comparison to crystal clear digital sound of today.

There is, therefore, romanticism about Nostalgia. For example, this Kishore Kumar song from the 1964 movie ‘Door Gagan Ki Chhaon Mein’ (Far Under The Sky):

Albele din pyaare, mere bichhade saathi saareHaay! Kahaan gaye, haay! kahaan gaye(Wonderful lovely days, all my friends I parted from
Oh, where are they now)
Koi lauta de mere beete hue din,
Beete hue din vo hai pyaare pal chhin.
(Someone, return to me my past,
My past, those dear moments)

Finally, the Moral of the Story: Treasure every moment when you have it rather than when it is gone.

JILL THE RIPPER AND SATYAMEV JAYATE

ROGER LIVES

THE GREAT INDIAN JUDICIAL CIRCUS

HAPPY SIXTIETH BIRTHDAY TO MY BEST FRIEND

THE LURE OF GOING ON A LIMB

INDIAN ARMY BEFORE AND AFTER OPERATION VIJAY

BOND WITH THE BRAND

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As long as we are aware that we like all Nostalgia about a miserable present until it becomes past, we shall be happy with that old gramophone we struggled with and which still gave screechy sound in comparison to crystal clear digital sound of today.

There is, therefore, romanticism about Nostalgia. For example, this Kishore Kumar song from the 1964 movie ‘Door Gagan Ki Chhaon Mein’ (Far Under The Sky):

Albele din pyaare, mere bichhade saathi saareHaay! Kahaan gaye, haay! kahaan gaye(Wonderful lovely days, all my friends I parted from Oh, where are they now) Koi lauta de mere beete hue din, Beete hue din vo hai pyaare pal chhin. (Someone, return to me my past, My past, those dear moments)

Finally, the Moral of the Story: Treasure every moment when you have it rather than when it is gone.

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Enjoy this blog? Please spread the word :)

Albele din pyaare, mere bichhade saathi saareHaay! Kahaan gaye, haay! kahaan gaye(Wonderful lovely days, all my friends I parted from
Oh, where are they now)
Koi lauta de mere beete hue din,
Beete hue din vo hai pyaare pal chhin.
(Someone, return to me my past,
My past, those dear moments)