I, Me, Myself

The Thirsty Crow and Other Tales of Wisdom

2012-01-08T23:10:00.000+05:30

Soon after we moved into the house we live in at present, my mother put out a wide, shallow earthen bowl in the yard, to provide the birds in the vicinity with fresh water to drink. She also began to provide them with a regular supply of bajra seeds, along with left-over pieces of chapatti. The seeds had to be replenished every day, while the pieces of bread often did not have to be.

One day, I saw a crow pick up a rather dry piece of chapatti in its beak. However, instead of flying away with it thereafter, it hopped over to the bowl of water and dropped the piece in. After having turned it around in the water for a while, so as to soak it well, the crow took off. By the time it returned, the chapatti appeared to have softened quite a bit and the bird proceeded to consume it.

Since then, I have become quite convinced that the story about a thirsty crow must have been based more on fact than fiction.

By the by, the bird in question has become great friends with my mother and she now sets an entire chapatti aside for it every day, while preparing lunch for the family. If she forgets, the crow spots her whenever she steps outside, perches itself on an electrical wire overhead and protests loudly until fed. At times, it even sits on the boundary wall, facing the house, and crows until its daily quota of the unleavened bread is served. In fact, the menu has now been expanded to include biscuits, fruits, and pakoras.

Once, when it was raising such a ruckus, I stepped out to ask what was wrong, since there already was some 'food on the table'. The crow picked up each piece, one by one, and threw it down as if to say, "Do you think I am going to eat this? Hurry along now and get us some fresh ones!"

Its sense of 'ownership' has become so strong that it admonishes us strongly if we try to feed a stray cow or dog, regardless of whether or not it has had lunch.

A Satiated Python?

2011-12-20T18:31:00.003+05:30

The question, however, is whether it is a python at all or any other kind of snake, as for that matter.

Reflections - II

2011-11-16T16:48:00.000+05:30

Gurdwara Bangla Sahib, New Delhi, photographed by yours truly on November 6. I had published another photograph earlier.

Lax Security at Chandigarh Railway Station

2011-09-11T12:49:00.002+05:30

I had to catch the Kalka Shatabdi at 6:23 p.m. that evening and arrived about an hour earlier at the entrance on the side of the station facing Panchkula, since that was where I had been staying with a friend. He also accompanied me as he hoped to travel on the same train up to Ambala. Each of us carried a shoulder bag spacious enough to contain a bomb as large as any used in recent incidents of terrorist violence (or an assault rifle with a foldable butt and a few hundred rounds of live ammunition) and yet got in without any security checks, simply because the police seemed to have decided that any one with malicious intent would never come that way. So, we reached the platform unmolested.

We could very well have boarded the train without having to go through any sort of security procedure, but for the fact that my friend had to purchase a ticket. For that reason, we had to step out briefly and return through the entrance on the side facing Chandigarh and this time we did have to pass through a metal detector. However, the police man posted there appeared more interested in the newspaper he was reading than us and I suppose we could have smuggled in improvised explosive devices sans metal parts or shrapnel.

Later, as the two of us waited at the platform, a pair of sniffer dogs were brought in and traversed the entire length of the platform, even though neither came within three meters of where we stood, at any point of time. Whether the canines could still have detected explosives, had we been carrying any, remains debatable.

Once we were on board, we stacked our bags on the overhead racks provided for the purpose and since the railway police personnel who came to question passengers about ownership of various luggage items appeared well after the train had gone past Ambala, my friend could easily have left his behind, possibly with a bomb in it. On the other hand, if I had been a suicide bomber, I could have accomplished my grisly task without further ado as I was only asked to point my bag out, like every one else, before a "checked" sticker was affixed to it.

One can only hope that all loopholes in the security shall be plugged before a real terrorist chooses to take advantage of the situation.

Corruption in India and Laws against It

2011-08-28T14:59:00.000+05:30

Let us consider the following instances:

1. As my father and I await our turn to pay for our purchases at a local Mother Dairy outlet, a man arrives on a motorcycle and buys a few litres of milk. He proceeds to empty it into a number of canisters attached to his vehicle and then asks for a bucket full of water to dilute the milk with. He, apparently, is a milkman, off to his daily rounds to supply the liquid to several households, probably telling them tall tales of cows that he rears in a pen at home for good measure.

2. When my mother visits a friend's house, the lady's young grand-daughter runs up to greet her, gives her a tight hug and enquires whether she has brought along any sweets. Upon finding out that she has not, the child's facial expression immediately changes to a rather rude one and she turns around and leaves. The same sequence is repeated on several subsequent occasions, until my mother relents and does take along some toffees.

3. The cashier at a local pathology lab tells me that she does not have the exact amount of change and tells me to collect the balance the next day, along with the report of the medical test for which I have just submitted a sample. When I do, she looks crestfallen, even though she does return the money. The same sequence is repeated a few months later.

4. As it continues to rain incessantly for several hours, a group of children from a nearby slum block the drains on the road that runs beside our house. Then, they offer to push any car that gets stalled due to water entering the exhaust pipe or another part, for a suitable fee. They do roaring 'business' until my mother realises what they are up to and decides to shoo them away. They are back a few days later, when it rains again.

5. A puncture repair-man scatters a pack of iron nails at a crossing, about a kilometre from where he has set up shop, to help bring in more clients.

6. A neighbour keeps his house centrally air-conditioned using free electricity supply obtained through greasing the palms of a few officials of the distribution company, which, incidentally, was privatised a few years ago.

I am sure that most Indians come across many such examples almost every day, i.e., when they are not the examples themselves, of course. The question that arises then, at least in my mind, is whether a Lokpal Bill or any other such piece of legislation can help eliminate corruption in a country where it is so deeply engrained in the culture now.

What about the others?

2011-08-14T13:24:00.000+05:30

Real Gender Equality: Women Storm A Few More Male Bastions

2011-05-01T18:36:00.002+05:30

With Ms. Kanimozhi being charged for the 2G spectrum scam (mobile telephony service providers given access to spectrum at subsidised rates, causing loss to the exchequer), it has been confirmed that Indian women have successfully stormed another male bastion, i.e., of large-scale corruption. Although she is being credited only with having siphoned off about Rs. 200 crore (1 crore = 10 million) by the Central Bureau of Investigation at present, it is widely believed that she has made several times that amount (running into thousands of crores) through ex-telecommunications minister A. Raja, who shared the spoils with her in return for ensuring that he retained his position in the union cabinet. Therefore, Ms. Kanimozhi seems to have broken through the 'glass ceiling' that appears to have existed for women 'scamsters' earlier, with the highest scorer previously being Ms. Mayawati, the chief minister of the state of Uttar Pradesh, who is said to have 'earned' about Rs. 150 crore from the Taj corridor scam.

Ms. Kanimozhi is reported to have achieved the feat with the help of Ms. Niira Radia, a corporate lobbyist who seems to have given male 'fixers' of 'deals' between politicians and businessmen a run for their money. So, that is another field in which women have made their mark in this country and the day does not appear to be far when more of them will claim their rightful place in the world of high-profile and high-volume graft.

Also, Indian young women have not only been marching shoulder to shoulder with their male colleagues, but, in many instances, seem to be ahead, when it comes to the procurement of fake commercial pilot's licences. In fact, the distinction of being the first such pilot to have come into the limelight belongs to a woman, Parminder Kaur Gulati. She had almost perfected the technique of landing an aircraft on its nose wheel, instead of on the rear wheels as most other pilots (even fake ones) do. Unfortunately for her, the wheel assembly got jammed following one such landing and unsympathetic officials grounded her, besides instituting an enquiry. Apparently, no one at the airline that employed her thought of promoting flying with her as a form of adventure sport quite akin to skydiving, albeit more dangerous. Even the National Commission for Women has not recognised her talent and stepped in on her behalf so far.

Another, Rashmi Sharan, studied for her pilot's licence at a flying school that had no aircraft or classroom (and closed down soon after she had completed her course) and had a 'special' examination conducted for herself by the Directorate General of Civil Aviation (where her father was employed as Joint Director at that time), when she could not, unfortunately, clear the regular ones despite several attempts; an achievement that no male 'pilot' is known to have been able to emulate so far.

One wonders why the tremendous success achieved by these women towards the attainment of gender equality is not being hailed as such in mass media, as is often the case otherwise.

Discovery Channel, Live

2011-04-10T18:22:00.000+05:30

I see a squirrel dart across to the other side of the road. Just as I begin to wonder why the poor beast would risk getting squished under the wheels of a speeding vehicle, I see a cat in hot pursuit. Both animals narrowly miss oncoming cars and motorcycles, as the squirrel manages to stay ahead and to climb a tree, out of the feline's reach.

As the cat stands under the tree, as if trying to find a way to reach the squirrel, a dog spies it from afar and rushes towards it. Before the canine can get there, however, the cat runs to the wall of a nearby compound and jumps over before the dog can see where it is going. The dog picks up the scent of its quarry and follows it along the ground up to the spot where the cat jumped on to the wall and then appears lost. A minute or two later, it gives up the chase and walks away.

Discovery channel, live, for any one who cares to watch.

A Trend or a One-Off?

2011-04-02T23:00:00.004+05:30

Harsh Mander has expounded on in 'The Hindu' about the aftermath of pogroms, as experienced by the communities victimised, in addition to the benefits, largely electoral, reaped by the supposed perpetrators.

I have written, earlier, about many of the issues touched upon in the article, on this blog as well as in the form of comments on others. However, I never expected any of that to appear in mainstream news media, at least in India (especially the part about those accused of organising the murders of thousands of members of minority religious communities having been rewarded through huge electoral victories by members of the religious majority), until I read Mr. Mander's article. Now, I wonder whether this is some kind of a new trend that has begun and more of the ugly, communal underbelly of this country is going to be exposed in a similar manner or whether this is going to prove to be the proverbial flash in the pan.

A War Hero I Once Knew

2011-02-20T22:41:00.002+05:30

I knew him as a friend of my maternal grandfather, at whose house he would often drop by during his evening walk, an ornate stick in hand. Every time, he would be dressed in a formal pair of trousers and an open-necked shirt, with a cravat around his neck and well-polished shoes that I could clearly see my face in, when I bent down to touch his feet (which is a customary way to show respect towards elders in India). During winters, a warm coat or jacket would become a part of the ensemble.

His beard, which had more grey hair than black, ever since I knew him, was perfectly fixed, with not a strand out of place, and his moustaches twisted to have perfectly pointed tips. His turban was always smartly done.

He never developed a paunch, unlike many Indian army officers nowadays, serving or retired, and never trimmed his beard, unlike many present-day 'mechanised Sikh' soldiers. Personal transport for him comprised a Premier Padmini and, in his later years, a Maruti 800. His house was somewhat more modest than my grandparents'.

As I would listen intently to their conversations, my grandfather and he would discuss matters all and sundry, but not any of his military experiences. Being the shy child that I was, I never picked up the courage to ask. I might have, if I had known the nature or extent of his exploits.

With the passage of time, however, the number of such meetings dwindled, and, after my grandfather passed away, stopped completely, except for one last time, when I ran into him at my school, where he had come to visit some one. He was dressed impeccably, as usual, in a crisply ironed suit and starched shirt. Despite his age, he held himself erect, although he no longer had the soldier's gait and walked a lot more slowly. I bent down to touch his feet and found that his shoes shone as brightly as ever. I have no recollection now of who broke the news of his having passed away to me, a few years later.

Afterwards, I did realise that he must have been a fine soldier and even better commander to have risen to the rank of Major General in an army where 80% officers retired by the time they became Colonels and in which, especially, there was some kind of a 'glass ceiling' for Sikh officers. However, until very recently, I did not know that he had also been a war hero and winner of India's second-highest gallantry award, i.e., the Maha Vir Chakra.

Apparently, he had commanded a unit in the 1965 Indo-Pak war that had been responsible for the destruction of almost an entire armoured division of the Pakistani army. He and his men are said to have hidden their tanks and recoilless guns in the fields that had a standing sugar cane crop, in a horse-shoe formation, and let the enemy tanks drive into the trap. He had ordered strategic portions of the area to be watered using irrigation channels, a few hours earlier, which was unknown to the opposing army and many of its tanks got bogged down, thus becoming sitting ducks for the gunners in his unit.

I have so many questions for him now, but he is no longer around to answer those. For example, did the Lieutenant General in charge of the Western Command at that time consult him before refusing to accept the Chief of Army Staff's 'suggestion' to withdraw up to the river Beas, in the face of the opposing army's superior fire-power and greater numbers and, if so, how did the conversation go? Where did he set up his command post? When (i.e., at what stage of the battle) and how did he come up with the strategy that finally carried the day? How did he and his men ensure the element of surprise? Where, according to him, did the enemy commander go wrong and what did he think of the enemy's strategy? Assuming that he joined service before independence, did he know of any of his former batch-mates on the other side and, if so, what went through his mind when he went to war against them?

Had I known of his achievements earlier, I might have asked.

Public Transport in Faridabad and New Delhi

2011-01-02T23:31:00.001+05:30

"Passengers are requested to not sit on the floor."

- An announcement on the Delhi Metro.

That sums up, to a great extent, the dichotomy between the latest addition to public transport that runs on a pair of iron rails in India's national capital region and the older constituents, which, like the Metro, are electric multiple units (commonly known as EMUs). It is not uncommon on the EMUs that travel between Faridabad and New Delhi or even beyond, for instance, for a group of passengers to spread a sheet of cloth on the floor of the carriage and sit down to play cards. Often, they also munch ground-nuts and leave the shells behind. On the Metro, on the other hand, consumption of food and/or drink is prohibited.

Some of the regular commuters on the route have formed bhajan mandlis and recite their prayers loudly every morning and evening, to the accompaniment of musical instruments like the dholak and the chimta. The first member aboard usually unfurls a cloth banner outside the window, for the rest to know which coach to get into. The end of the session is marked by the distribution of prasaad. On the Metro, however, passengers are not even allowed to play music on their mobile phones or iPods.

It appears to me that Delhi Metro Rail Corporation need not have worried too much about any of the above, for most of the passengers on its trains seem to be from the upper middle class and less likely to indulge in such activities (since they tend to be rather conscious of their social status). That could have a lot to do with the fact that the fares for travelling on the Metro are 5-6 times higher than those for the older EMUs.

Then, there are those who hardly ever purchase a ticket to travel on the trains plying between stations in Delhi and its satellite towns. They include ground-nut or poppadom sellers, beggars, and, at times, even performers. The entertainers are generally children with brightly painted cheeks and caps with long plaits attached (which they can spin with dramatic effect, through corresponding movements of their heads), who do a few somersaults on the floor of the train or pass themselves through iron rings, to the accompaniment of a song or two sung by an accomplice who often plays a dholak as well, before they pass the hat around. I suppose they are quite incapable of getting past the Metro's tight security arrangements. That should also apply to the milkmen who carry canisters full of milk, which they load and unload with amazing speed, to various parts of Delhi, every morning, from their villages on the peripheries of the city. They return with the empty vessels in the afternoon.

Similarly, the small-time businessmen who transport consignments on the EMUs without paying for freight are unlikely to be able to do so on the Metro.

So, there already appears to be a distinct class divide between those who travel on the Metro and those who travel on the other EMUs, although an intersection does appear likely in the form of students and others like me who may not make a distinction even when the Metro begins to serve the population of most parts of Delhi and its surrounding areas and both services are in more of a direct competition.

Merry Christmas

2010-12-25T15:08:00.001+05:30

Stray dogs catch up on sleep, outside a shop decorated for the holiday season, in Connaught Place, New Delhi.

Caption Contest

2010-12-20T18:22:00.000+05:30

Test your ingenuity. Suggest a caption for the photograph posted above. The winners shall, of course, not be awarded any prizes.

Out of Steam?

2010-12-11T15:48:00.000+05:30

Goats in the City

2010-11-10T13:01:00.001+05:30

A man and his goats stop for rest in the shadow of an overhead billboard.

Vlad the Impaler

2010-11-01T02:23:00.001+05:30

The car that BBC TogGear termed as Vlad the Impaler is in India. Priced at approximately Rs.16,00,00,000, it leaves far behind the Maybach, which, I believe, was the most expensive car being sold in India earlier. With its top speed of 407 kilometres an hour, no other car sold in India can catch up with the Veyron on the tarmac, in any case.

What remains to be seen, however, is whether it can run on the Indian roads at all and whether Bugatti have prepared it for that.

A Lake on A Road

2010-09-19T22:50:00.004+05:30

This is what a road looked like on a particularly rainy evening. I suppose vehicular traffic could have been diverted for a while to hold, say, a canoe race on it. Those responsible for clearing the blocked sewers that led to this would, in any case, not have arrived until the next morning.

Punjabi Poetry by Faiz

2010-08-02T13:23:00.005+05:30

Until not so long ago, I knew Faiz Ahmed 'Faiz' mainly as a renowned poet of the Urdu language. It was only after I started writing this blog and, as a result, came into contact with some bloggers from the Pakistani part of Punjab that I came to know that he composed compelling verse in Punjabi as well. The following piece is, arguably, the most popular one:

Rabbaa sachyaa, tuuN tay aakhyaa si
jaa O bandyaa jagg daa shaah aiN tuuN
saaDiaaN naimtaaN teriaaN daultaaN naiN
saaDa naib tay aalijaah aiN tuuN
ais laare tay tor kad puchhyaa ee
ki ais nimaanay tay beetiaaN naiN

kaday saar vi layi O Rabb saaiNyaaN
teyre shaah naal jagg ki keetiaaN naiN
kitay dhauNs police sarkaar di ai
kitay dhaandli maal patwaar di ai
iNvaiN haDDaaN vich kalpe jaan meri
jiveiN phaahi 'ch koonj kurlaaundi ai
changaa shaah banaaya ee Rabb saaiNyaaN
paulay khaanday vaar na aauNdi ai

meinuuN shaahi nahiN chaahidi Rabb meiray
meiN tay izzat da tukkar mangnaa haaN

meinuuN taaNgh nahiN mehlaaN maaRiaaN di

meiN tay jeevan di nukkar mangnaa haaN

meri manneiN tay teriaan meiN mannaaN
teri sauNh jay ik vi gal moRaaN
jay aih saudaa nahiN pujdaa taaN Rabbaa
feyr meiN jaaNvaaN tay Rabb koi hor loRaaN

It has been translated into English by Khwaja Tariq Mahmood as follows:

O God almighty, you had ordained

Go, O you man, you are king on earth

You own our benevolence and our blessings

As exalted vice-regent on land and firth

Despatching us with that pledge, did you ever enquire

How this poor wretch was faring and feeling

Did you, O provider of the world, indeed so desire

The treatment for your king that the world was dealing

By government functionaries some times repressed

By revenue bailiffs, some times oppressed

For all this, my soul seethes depressed

Like a bird in cage utterly possessed

How well you fashioned a king, O God

Incessantly pummelled and unredressed

I do not need kingship, O God almighty

I just need to sustain with bread, with respect

I just do not crave for a palatial enclave

I need just a nook, enough to protect

Your will I will respect, if you accept my request

I swear not to waver or to deflect

But, if O God, my plea is not so approved

For another God, then, I shall go in quest

As for musical performances, not only has it been rendered soulfully by Tina Sani in a recent Coke Studio episode, although juxtaposed with some other pieces of poetry (as can be listened to in the following),

but some excerpts have also been set rather well to rock music by Atif Aslam (as can be listened to below).

A Dog Rescued?

2010-07-11T17:20:00.001+05:30

It was nearly a quarter past eleven at night and I was in the front yard to catch some cool breeze as well as to look for any suspicious activity, since there had been a burglary attempt a few days ago, when I heard a dog yelp. I looked around, only to see the poor devil rolling on the ground and surrounded by a few other canines, across the road. "Perhaps the animal is being mauled by some other stray dogs, for having entered their territory without permission", I thought. So, I picked up a stone and rushed towards the commotion. The other dogs had moved away by then and I found the one that had cried out lying on his side, with his neck stuck to a metallic cable, which I soon realised, to my horror, had broken off from a street-lamp pole and formed part of a live distribution line. The dog was, obviously, being electrocuted. He was unconscious and his jaw was contorted into a strange shape, but his stomach rose and fell in rhythmic motion, which indicated that he was alive.

I rushed back home and returned, shortly, with a wooden staff. With its help, I managed to move the dog away from the cable, but his head was still only an inch or two away from danger.

Even as I tried to shift the cable, which looped around the spot where he lay, away from him, the dog came to his senses. Probably because I was the only other living being around, he seemed to have figured out that I was his tormentor and snapped at me. Although I retreated, in an attempt to keep him away from the source of electricity, he tried to move and in the most obvious direction i. e. forward and got electrocuted again.

His body shook violently, even a few moments after I had managed to roll him over and out of harm's way for the second time that evening. Amazingly, he had tried to bite at the staff, even while the current coursed through him and into the ground, which was actually good in a way, perhaps, since it probably kept him from biting his own tongue.

A pair of kind young men on a motorcycle had arrived at the scene by then and pointed their vehicle's headlight at the cable to assist me as I tried to straighten it, to prevent, as far as possible, any others from falling victim.

There seemed to be little that I could do to help the dog any further, especially in view of my lack of knowledge of veterinary science, so I just left it there and went home to ring up the appropriate authorities. As I was to find out later though, electricity department personnel were not that concerned and would only respond to my pleas late next morning.

After I had reported the incident to the municipal corporation, my attention turned once again towards the distressed animal and I went to check on him again. I had located the contact details of an 'animal ambulance' service and hoped to receive some assistance in the form of information, since it already was close to midnight and they would probably not have had any transport available until the following morning. However, the dog was nowhere to be found. I went to look for him again at day-break and there was absolutely no trace of him. Therefore, I surmised that he must have recovered enough to be on his way to wherever he was headed before the cable interrupted the journey.

Easy Rider

2010-06-10T13:18:00.001+05:30

As I reversed my father's car out of the gate and turned it around, a rather thick-set brown dog trotted into view. He wore a collar and, therefore, was obviously not a stray. Within a few moments, he got on to the patch of grass that separates the boundary wall of the house from the road and began to sniff around and to go around in circles. I realised what he was up to, tapped the pane of the half-open front passenger-side window and called out to him to stop, just as he had begun to answer the call of nature.

He gave up his endeavour midway and came towards the car. Shortly, he disappeared. I was afraid that if I tried to drive away at that point of time, I might run him over. Then he appeared at the window on the driver's side, front-paws planted firmly on the door, apparently looking for a joy-ride. I would have gladly obliged, but did not want to deal with his (possibly) annoyed master/mistress later. Besides, he had not cleaned his rear end by dragging it along the grass for a bit, as dogs usually do after relieving themselves. So, I apologised and drove off with laughter suppressed until the disappointed canine, whom I had seen for the first time that evening, was out of earshot.

The Death of a Mouse

2010-05-20T21:51:00.001+05:30

It was evening and I was seated in the dining room, when I saw a pair of black, beady eyes, set in a small brown face with rather large ears, peering at me from under the refridgerator. It was time to look for the mouse-trap, I realised, and sought help from my father, since he had put the contraption somewhere when we moved house a few days ago. As a rule, we never use poison or any other lethal methods to get rid of the mice that come as uninvited guests from time to time.

So, I set the trap with a tiny piece of chapatti dipped in ghee (butter-oil) as bait, in the dark alley behind the fridge. I heard the door shut with a loud click late at night, a while after I had gone to bed.

The following morning I got up at the usual hour, which was not very early, performed the daily ablutions and saw my father off to office, before I was ready to go and release the poor creature on to a piece of open land, where I generally set the mice free.

As I closed the gate behind me, the thought of releasing the animal into the nursery across the road did cross my mind, but it was almost instantly negated by one of the keepers accusing me of letting in a pest that might nibble at the roots of the saplings. So, off we went to the clearing, after I had spoken to the rodent for a bit and it had responded by putting on a display of acrobatics for my benefit.

When I found a shady spot under a tree that seemed perfect for the purpose and opened the door, the mouse would not move. I raised the trap on one side to nudge it a little and it rolled on to the ground, belly-side up. I could see its stomach rise and fall as it breathed rapidly and its eyes were open, but it seemed frozen. I used a twig to flip it over, so that it was the right side up. "Perhaps it has passed out due to the oppressively hot weather and will revive in a while.", I thought. Just then, a crow that must have been watching from a branch somewhere above, glided down. I drove the bird away, but almost as soon as I turned my back, it returned to pick the mouse up in its beak and to fly away. I was filled with remorse; I, who hardly ever think twice before digging into a plate of chicken-masala.

A Dog and A Gourmet

2010-05-01T14:14:00.001+05:30

On summer days that he can manage to sneak past my mother into the house, my friend Zakhmi (he, who is an expert at non-verbal communication) likes to laze about or catch up on his sleep on the floor in my room, while I read or work on the computer or watch television. He generally tends to leave only in the evenings, when the heat subsides and the weather outside is pleasant enough for his evening stroll in the street, unless he chooses to move to another (and cooler) part of the house for his siesta before that and gets evicted by the lady of the house and the thick stick that she wields.

On one such afternoon, recently, I thought I might be able to interest him in some lunch and waved a chapatti in front of his nose a few times. He did not move. My mother even tried to thrust a piece into the side of his mouth, so that he could taste it, but he was having none of that and only clenched his jaws shut tighter.

Then, I noticed diced paneer garnished with tomato ketchup, on my brother's plate. I asked him to wipe a cube of the cheese clean and to give it to me.

As soon as I brought it near the old rogue's nose, his senses appeared to have been electrified and he gobbled it up almost at once. He sat up immediately thereafter and fixed his gaze at my brother's plate. Bite-sized pieces of the same chapatti that he had rejected earlier were made quick work of subsequently, when crushed paneer cubes were applied to each of those.

Quote of the Year - II

2010-04-06T14:32:00.004+05:30

"Jihadi terrorism may not exactly be the flip side of communal violence, but communal violence and communal disharmony create an environment where jihadi terrorism can flourish."

- P. Chidambaram, Union Home Minister, Government of India

Some Likely Consequences of Women's Reservation

2010-03-28T14:08:00.002+05:30

As I had written earlier, the Women's Reservation Bill is a direct assault on the self-respect of Indian women in my opinion and reservation, in general, as a policy, is fundamentally flawed, because it breeds and perpetuates incompetence and largely benefits the elite sections of the demographic that it is supposed to alleviate, which has become evident over the past six decades. However, even those women who had braved laathhi-charges (baton-charges) and water-cannons or gone on hunger-strike to protest against caste-based reservations do not seem to have a problem with gender-based reservations. Perhaps they have decided that just as there can apparently be 'Good Taliban' and 'Bad Taliban', there can be 'Good Reservation (read gender-based)' and 'Bad Reservation (read caste-based)'.

In any case, the bill has been passed by the upper house of parliament and will probably sail through the lower house as well, since some of the opposition parties have also decided to vote for it.

As far as I can see, the pieces of legislation that are likely to follow this one are likely to include reservation for women in institutions for higher education, government jobs and, ultimately, promotions as well. So far, the honourable Supreme Court of India has limited reservation, inclusive of quotas of all kinds, to 50%, but that could change once the Constitution is amended.

Let us suppose that the quota for women will be pegged at 33%, just as in parliament. That would leave only 17% seats in the 'General Category' (100% - (50% + 33%) = 17%), implying that parents of young boys who are not eligible for any kind of quota should start saving, in order to be able to send their sons to study at colleges outside of India. That is especially so since the entry into India of foreign universities, which would not be obliged to implement the quota system, appears difficult, since the relevant legislation is being sought to be blocked by the opposition.

Educational loans should be of assistance, but are unlikely to cover the entire expense. Some relief might come in the form of a few privately controlled institutions from India setting up branches in neighbouring countries like Nepal, Bhutan, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka. In view of the demand, some Western Universities or even some reputed ones from the Asia-Pacific region might also set up branches in those countries, to provide a more economical alternative to students travelling to the countries of origin of such universities.

I would also expect emigration from India to North America and Europe to increase, especially by families with young male children, on account of the increased reservation.

The scenario described above might appear alarmist and might ultimately turn out to be a bit of an exaggeration, but I am quite convinced that it correctly indicates, at least, the shape of things to come.

On the other hand, one can expect the number of achievers and competent professionals amongst women like Vijaya Lakshmi Pandit, Sarojini Naidu, Kiran Bedi, Bachhendri Pal and Arundhati Roy, to decline, rather than vice versa, because of the women's quotas. People generally tend not to work hard towards something that they can obtain without actually having to make too much of an effort, as has been demonstrated by most of those who have availed of the caste-based quotas over the past six decades.

I recall that in the hospital where free medical care was provided for all employees and their families by the pubic-sector unit that my father used to work for, most patients avoided the 'reserved category' doctors. I had the misfortune of visiting such an E. N. T. specialist once, who made the pain in my ear much worse and I had to be taken for treatment to a registered medical practitioner by my parents. The R. M. P. managed to cure me within two days (He prescribed ear-drops, to soften some solidified ear-wax, which was subsequently cleaned away.), something that the 'quota doctor' had not been able to achieve over a week (He even contemplated surgery!). Proof also exists in the form of the fact that caste-based reservations in educational institutions had to be followed with quotas in jobs and, subsequently, promotions.

The policy of reservation should be scrapped and replaced with scholarships, fee-exemptions and free board & lodge for bright students among the poor and allocation of more election tickets to candidates from the so-called underprivileged sections of society by political parties that really want to help them.

Unfortunately, however, it has become a tool in the hands of politicians, who use it to build captive vote-banks for themselves, since whichever section of the population is brought under its purview suddenly seems to discover how noble it is supposed to be, even if vehemently opposed to it earlier.

To Hang Till...

2010-03-07T18:01:00.001+05:30

Punjabi Poetry by Rajab Ali

2010-03-01T16:24:00.001+05:30

It was at the funeral service for one of my father's aunts (the wife of a brother of his mother's) that I heard the kathhaa-vaachak (preacher) recite a few couplets by Rajab Ali. It was my first encounter with his poetry and I was enthralled. The departed lady's oldest son i. e. my father's cousin later promised to collect as many of Ali's verses as he could and put those down in a notebook, for me. I never found out whether he was able to do that as he succumbed to cancer a few years down the line and, somehow, I did not get a chance to meet him in-between.

Apparently, the poet was an overseer in the irrigation department, posted in the Malwa region of Punjab, before 1947 (after which he moved to the newly-formed Pakistan, along with his family), and he spent a good part of his tenure at my paternal grandmother's ancestral village and a few surrounding ones. Many of those from my parents' generation and those preceding it still recite and listen to his kavishari over there, probably not as often as before though. So, it was quite a pleasure to come across some of his poems posted online, in the Gurmukhi as well as Roman scripts.

One does wish that the great man had been treated better by the country of his birth and provided with adequate security at the time of partition to protect him and his family against the violence that took place, so that he could stay and practise his craft in India, or by his adopted country, where his services to the Punjabi language never really received due recognition.

When Tigers Run Out Of Breath...

2010-02-15T12:48:00.000+05:30

Indo-Pak Collaborations

2010-02-08T14:08:00.004+05:30

An on-stage performance, somewhere in the UK, by two artistes from India (Gurdas Mann, Sukhshinder Shinda) and one from Pakistan (Abrar-ul-Haq), has been presented in the video posted below. The track is a part of a Punjabi music album titled Collaborations. The Times of India and Jang groups could very well have invited or, perhaps, could still invite them to join the Aman Ki Asha campaign.

Another Year: A Few Beginnings and an End

2010-01-11T20:52:00.003+05:30

As I picked up the newspaper on the very first day of 2010, I was very pleased to read about 'Aman Ki Asha', an initiative of The Times of India & The Jang Group of Pakistan. It is difficult to predict as to how far it will actually go in terms of achievement of lasting peace between India and Pakistan. However, it definitely does denote progress in terms of the fact that it is for the first time that leading media houses from the neighbouring countries have joined hands in such a manner. If nothing else, at least some journalists from either side might make friends among their counterparts on the opposite side of the Indo-Pak border and work with greater conviction towards sowing the seeds of friendship in the hearts and minds of the general public. In any case, the contents of The Times of India over the past ten days have been rather interesting.

It is a case of the mainstream media treading in the footsteps of bloggers. Yours truly, for instance, has managed to make a few Pakistani friends in the past three years, largely through the medium of blogging.

The beginning of the year also brought some hope for justice for the victims of anti-Sikh riots of 1984, along with their co-religionists around the world, as the Central Bureau of Investigation (C.B.I.) was granted sanction to charge sheet Mr. Sajjan Kumar for 'spreading enmity between two communities'. It is certainly not the most serious crime that he is accused of, but the pending sanction was an impediment to the pursuit of the other charges.

The new year also marked the passing away of noted conservationist and author, Billy Arjan Singh. I had read one of his books a few years ago and was mighty impressed by his unorthodox approach towards the protection of wildlife, in particular, and life, in general.

A Nobel Laureate and The Indian Public

2009-12-28T23:08:00.003+05:30

The people of this country tend to put any one, whether an Indian or a person of Indian origin, who wins recognition from a phoren (foreign) land, on a pedestal, even at the cost of his or her craft, as experienced recently by a certain Dr. Venkatraman Ramakrishnan.

Corruption in the Indian Private Sector - II

2009-12-07T23:14:00.001+05:30

As I had written earlier, although government servants are the ones generally accused of bribery, there, apparently, is no dearth of scams in the private sector either.

In the Information Technology Enabled Services (ITES) and Business Process Outsourcing (BPO) industries, among others with a high turnover rate i.e. where people change jobs quite frequently, employees are encouraged to refer suitable candidates for any vacancies that may arise in the companies that they work for and given cash incentives if any such candidates are selected.

The benefits for the employers are two-fold. Firstly, they save on recruitment expenses, since the incentive given is often far less than the fee that may have to be paid to a placement agency (or recruitment consultancy, which is the more commonly used nomenclature in India) or the cost of advertising online or through the print-media and then short-listing resumes. Secondly, since employees generally refer their friends or relatives, the scheme helps in retention of talent.

However, some unscrupulous placement agencies and employees have found a loop-hole that they can exploit to their advantage. Such agencies pay cash bribes to employees of the companies that they wish to place candidates with, in order to get them to submit resumes of their clients through the referral schemes. If any of the candidates then gets appointed, he or she pays an amount equivalent to one month's salary to the agency.

A lawyer would be more competent to comment on the laws that their actions are in contravention of, but these definitely amount to breach of the employment contracts. Companies are well within their rights to take disciplinary action against the erring employees and to black-list the placement agencies.

Sweet Dreams?

2009-11-28T21:19:00.001+05:30

Televised War: A Story Within A Story

2009-11-15T03:21:00.005+05:30

For certain unavoidable reasons, I had been unable to watch the Kargil conflict on television in 1999. So, when excerpts from the original coverage were aired recently, on the occasion of the tenth anniversary of the 'limited war', I did not want to miss any.

In the first clip, it was evening and the intrepid reporter (I. R.), who has become a legend in her own right since (a Hindi film has a character inspired by her), nearly jumped out of her skin upon hearing a loud noise and said, "You can see behind you a Bofors 155 millimetre howitzer being fired.". I turned around and saw a pillow and a few newspapers and magazines on my bed, beyond which was a wardrobe, but not even a hand-gun, let alone a howitzer, was in sight. Additionally, my room would have proved to be too small for the Bofors. It was then that I realised that I. R. had been so scared that she had forgotten that the gun was placed behind her and not me or any other television viewer. Interestingly enough, no offensive action by enemy forces that could have harmed I. R. or those present around her was evident at that point of time.

In the second one, night had descended upon the area and the enemy had begun shelling Indian positions and I. R. and the camera-man accompanying her were invited to the relative safety of a bunker and given helmets to wear. The soldiers present in the bunker appeared relaxed and were listening to music on a portable radio set. However, I. R. asked them about all that went through their minds when they went into battle and whether they were affected by fear. The soldiers replied that fear was natural, but they were there to answer the call of duty and, moreover, they had trained throughout their professional lives to go to war (They might also have added that unless a shell were to land right on top of the bunker, there hardly was anything to worry about.). Perhaps I. R. meant to express her own feelings through the questions, since she was the only person in the bunker who appeared to be out of sorts.

In the third, it was daylight once again and I. R. showed the viewers the Maruti Gypsy that she and the camera-man had travelled to the forward area in, which had been wrecked by the shelling. She declared that the driver had run away, only to discover later that he had, in fact, been injured by shrapnel. Apparently, being the quintessential brown memsaahib, she had never bothered to check on the driver or worried about his safety the previous evening, even as she, herself, was well-ensconced.

People often fête I. R. for endeavours like those mentioned above. Having been used to reportage by channels like BBC World News and CNN though, wherein journalists and camera-persons accompany foot-patrols in Afghanistan and Iraq and fire-fights are routinely filmed from close quarters (with soldiers shooting and being shot at by enemy combatants from only a few hundred feet away) and shown on television, accompanied by concise and accurate commentary by the correspondents (despite the obvious danger to their lives), I was left rather unimpressed.

Dusk - II

2009-11-10T08:11:00.000+05:30

Sikhs and 1984

2009-11-01T20:17:00.000+05:30

“The Congress wants us to forget it; view it as an aberration. When they made Manmohan Singh Prime Minister, they stepped up this rhetoric; saying, ‘forget it now at least we have apologised and now made your man the Prime Minister. Our answer has been that the apology came 21 years late and under the Indian legal system an apology is not a substitute for punishment for murder. We want justice.”

- Advocate H. S. Phoolka, as quoted in today's edition of The Hindu

Free Music Downloads and Shakira

2009-10-26T19:53:00.001+05:30

Shakira's support to piracy is appreciable. However, music downloads can actually be free as well as legal.

The Old Dog and The Sea

2009-10-20T13:42:00.002+05:30

A Soldier and A Horse

2009-10-11T20:57:00.002+05:30

The tall and strapping young Sikh was posted at Aden during World War I, as a Junior Commissioned Officer in the Indian Army.

One day, he was ordered to deliver an urgent missive to a forward post. He was almost there, when the horse that he was riding suddenly stopped in its tracks, neighed and reared up. Simultaneously, a shot rang out and hit the middle of the animal's forehead. It died instantaneously and collapsed on to one of the soldier's legs, before he could get his feet out of the stirrups, thus causing a bone fracture. Despite the injury, he managed to extricate himself rather quickly and made his way to the post, while being under heavy enemy fire.

"Tum toh bach gayaa!" (You escaped!), exclaimed the British commander of the post, in broken Hindustani, when the Sikh reached there. The Englishman had been watching the action unfold, through a pair of binoculars.

Shortly thereafter, the reply was prepared and the JCO was provided with another horse, to carry it back to headquarters. Later, he received an award, which included the grant of a sizeable piece of agricultural land in the Rawalpindi district (Punjab, Pakistan), besides the decoration, for the gallantry which he displayed that day. He, along with other members of his family, cultivated the land up to 1947, when the partition of India forced him to return permanently to his native village in Ludhiana district (Punjab, India).

Until the very end of his days, however, he often recounted the story of the horse that sacrificed its own life to save that of its rider, to his children, one of whom was my maternal grandfather.

Personal Transport

2009-09-28T20:25:00.002+05:30

Real Elephants Lose Out To Statues

2009-09-15T13:05:00.001+05:30

The government of the Indian state of Uttar Pradesh is prepared to spend crores of rupees to build several statues of elephants (at Rs. 60 lakh per piece) in a 'memorial park', but has allocated an annual budget of only Rs. 50 lakh for the creation and maintenance of a special elephant reserve, as reported by The Tribune.

Sound and Fury

2009-09-07T21:52:00.001+05:30

A Partial Acknowledgement of The Truth?

2009-08-30T15:43:00.006+05:30

"History would never forgive police officials who were at the helm of the affairs and the government of the day for their unprecedented slothful and quiescent role."

"But for the contrived action and sluggish response of the police and the government, scores of priceless lives could have been saved."

- Additional Sessions Judge S. S. Rathi, while awarding life-imprisonment to three men who appear to have taken advantage of the police's inactivity during the 1984 Anti-Sikh Riots to rob their Sikh neighbours and set the Sikhs' house on fire to make it look like another case of rioting

Religious Profiling, Shahrukh Khan and I

2009-08-19T14:40:00.002+05:30

I had failed to clear the Financial Management examination in the second semester (out of a total of four) of M.B.A. and was to re-appear for it along with the students of the following batch. However, their examinations were postponed by a few months, instead of being held along with those for my fourth semester. So, I had to vacate the hostel room and return home. The year was 1999.

As luck would have it, one of my batch-mates had been placed with an Internet Service Provider at Indore itself, after the completion of the post-graduate course in management. Since I had his address, I expected to put up with him for the day or two that I would spend in the city. When I got there, though, he had shifted residence, but a neighbour was able to provide me with the new address. I did not find him at home there either and, since it was already rather late in the evening by then, decided to look for a hotel room. I found one near the hostel, which was good as I was familiar with the area, having lived there for nearly two years.

Soon after I had settled down to read a text-book, following dinner, there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find that three armed policemen, a sub-inspector and two constables, had come to visit me. They wanted to know the reasons for my presence in Indore and when I told them about the examination, they asked for proof. As I was to collect the hall ticket/admission card for the examination from college the next day, I was at a loss for words. Some anxious thoughts crossed my mind during those few moments of silence.

For the uninitiated, it should be prudent to mention here that police in India are known to often detain people without formally arresting them for several days or even months. They have also been reported to use torture to extract 'confessions' and to declare those killed during 'interrogation' as 'dreaded terrorists' killed in 'fierce encounters' or to simply dump the corpses in a canal or river.

In any case, I told them that I did not have the hall ticket/admission card. They asked whether I had any other form of proof and I pointed towards the book on the bed. Fortunately, it was sufficient to convince them and I felt relieved when they left.

Enquiries from members of the staff revealed later that the keepers of the law, summoned by a telephone call, had been to the hotel only to see me. They had specific instructions to inform the police, whenever a Sikh, Muslim or Tamil came to stay.

Apparently, Mr. Shahrukh Khan, who was very distressed recently on account of being detained at an airport in the United States, simply because he is a Muslim, felt that way as he, being a film star, has probably never been subjected to religious or ethnic profiling in India, unlike mere mortals like me. I had been introduced to those concepts rather early in life.

When India 'Exported Terror' - II

2009-08-10T13:15:00.000+05:30

"Till 1977,...The Balochi fighters were trained in the deserts of Rajasthan. We also provided them with financial and diplomatic assistance."

- Mohan Guruswamy, in an Op.-Ed. published in The Tribune on August 2, 2009

A Brilliant Business Idea Or An Anachronism?

2009-07-17T15:14:00.004+05:30

This is apropos of the survey posted earlier.

Esha appears to be a non-profit venture, which seeks to assist organisations that conduct business with, educate or employ blind people. It can help to get visiting cards braille-enabled, conduct theatre workshops to sensitise people to the special needs of the visually impaired and help with the creation of environments that can be inclusive enough for them. It also has a blog focussed on related issues.

However, the idea appears to be somewhat before its time, since, as far as I know, not many businesses in India employ or even seek to employ the blind at present. I am not aware of many blind entrepreneurs who deal with large business houses either.

As far as educational institutions are concerned, I believe the blind generally have to seek admission to special schools and colleges in this country, where there hardly are any sighted pupils.

So, unless Esha can convince corporate India to invest heavily in the creation of employment opportunities for the blind or regular educational institutions to admit blind students, the only sightless beneficiaries of its efforts seem likely to be those on its own payroll, who, obviously, are not going to be more than a few.

When India 'Exported Terror'

2009-07-11T11:32:00.003+05:30

"Indira Gandhi's government provided us with arms training in Tamil Nadu's Salem district..."

- Karuna Amman alias Col. Karuna, formerly a close associate of LTTE chief Velupillai Prabhakaran and now a minister in the Government of Sri Lanka, in an interview published in The Week (issue dated July 5, 2009)

Update:

"India helped the Liberation Tigers at a particular historical time to train and arm our fighters..."

- Anton Balasingham, Chief Negotiator and idealogue of LTTE, in an exclusive interview to NDTV

"The intelligence agencies said, Don't worry about the LTTE, they are our boys, they will not fight us...They said these are boys who were trained by us from 1977..."

- J N Dixit, India's high commissioner to Sri Lanka from 1985 to 1989, in an interview published at Rediff.Com

A Survey

2009-07-08T18:37:00.002+05:30

Ki-Jaana-Main-Kaun is carrying out a survey and has asked for assistance. Please answer the following questions:

In India, is it possible to get Braille on your visiting cards? Yes/No
Do you know of an organisation called Esha – People for the blind? Yes/No

Please post your answers in the comments section.

Farewell, Michael Jackson

2009-06-27T00:07:00.002+05:30

This is the song that I would like to remember him by.

I agree, President Obama

2009-06-16T14:18:00.001+05:30

Presented below are a few extracts (which I agree with completely) from the speech that President Obama of the United States recently delivered at Cairo University, followed by the manner in which each of these is relevant to the social and political realities in India:

"I reject the view of some in the West that a woman who chooses to cover her hair is somehow less equal, but I do believe that a woman who is denied an education is denied equality."

Relevance to India: Women who mostly wear traditional dresses (or dress conservatively) are generally looked down upon and treated as less than equal, many a time despite being highly educated and/or having outstanding achievements to their credit in their chosen fields of work, by women who adopt a more Westernised mode of dressing (quite frequently comprised of clothes that are excessively tight and/or revealing). Derogatory terms like behenji (which, otherwise, is a form of address for an elder sister) are often used to refer to the former, by the latter.

"I do not believe that women must make the same choices as men in order to be equal, and I respect those women who choose to live their lives in traditional roles. But it should be their choice."

Relevance to India: Women who take up traditional roles like the 'housewife' or 'home-maker', even if they do so of their own volition and are very successful at raising a family, are often thought of as having put their talents to waste and are not always considered as 'modern' or 'advanced' as those who choose to work outside of the home.

"I know that for many, the face of globalization is contradictory. The Internet and television can bring knowledge and information, but also offensive sexuality and mindless violence. Trade can bring new wealth and opportunities, but also huge disruptions and changing communities. In all nations - including my own - this change can bring fear. Fear that because of modernity we will lose control over our economic choices, our politics, and most importantly our identities - those things we most cherish about our communities, our families, our traditions, and our faith.

But I also know that human progress cannot be denied. There need not be contradiction between development and tradition. Countries like Japan and South Korea grew their economies while maintaining distinct cultures."

Relevance to India: The emphasis on censorship and bans appears to have been far greater than genuine attempts at preservation of a distinct culture. At the same time, anything that is phoren (foreign) is thought of as superior, whether it be language or food or dress or literature or, of late, even social mores, by a substantial proportion of the population.

"It is easier to start wars than to end them. It is easier to blame others than to look inward; to see what is different about someone than to find the things we share. But we should choose the right path, not just the easy path. There is also one rule that lies at the heart of every religion - that we do unto others as we would have them do unto us."

Relevance to India: Religious minorities are like the children of a lesser God in this country, despite the equal status envisioned for all citizens by those who drafted the Constitution of India. Mosques are razed to the ground, Gurdwaras are burnt and Churches are attacked with impunity. Thousands of innocent Muslims, Sikhs and Christians are pulled out of their own homes and hacked or bludgeoned to death or burnt alive and their houses set on fire, without the culprits having to fear any kind of punishment. In fact, many of those accused of such grave crimes against humanity not only contest, but also win elections to become members of parliament or state legislative assemblies. Some of them even go on to become ministers in the government of India or in the various state governments.

The resulting sense of persecution and lack of hope for justice can and often does help provide fresh recruits for terrorist organisations, from the minority communities. Thus, the vicious cycle of violence continues.

Incidentally, the 'masterminds' responsible for terrorist violence are almost invariably apprehended as well as prosecuted, unlike those responsible for communal violence.

A Modern Yogi?

2009-06-01T13:09:00.003+05:30

A Solution for Communalism

2009-05-25T16:12:00.003+05:30

With respect to the last paragraph of the previous post, a friend, who is a school-teacher from Scotland, wrote:

"It's true...about kids gaining prejudices at a young age, without really understanding what it's all about...that's what I often say about racial issues and other prejudices being 'in-bred'...there's many, I'll bet, who are engaged in conflicts around the world due to in-bred prejudices, or pre-conceived notions about a person or persons. The only way to ever change things in this world and the only ever hope of peace is to try to promote tolerance from the start (i.e. when very young). This also involves co-operation from the parents, though, so is no easy task. However sometimes opinions can be changed...just takes a lot of work, effort and a lot of introspection (something that not all folks are comfortable with)..."

My Memories of 1984 (Part 3)

2009-05-11T12:53:00.000+05:30

On a morning that it appeared relatively safer to venture out, my father and I set out on foot to visit the Sikh family that had been attacked in the neighbourhood. They had been friends of my parents' long before I was born. I listened intently as the events of that fateful evening were recounted for us.

Using crowbars, apparently, some of the attackers managed to break the back door open, while others worked at forcing an entry at the front. Mr. Singh stood in the doorway, to prevent the miscreants from entering. They used sticks and iron rods to hit him. Within a few minutes, his collar-bone and the bones in one of his forearms had been broken. When he fell to the floor, shortly thereafter, an adolescent daughter of his replaced him. Blows rained down upon her as well and she, too, sustained injuries.

In the meanwhile, Mr. Singh's septuagenarian father retrieved his 12-gauge shotgun (for which he had a licence issued by the Government of India) from under his bed and loaded it. Almost as soon as he opened a window at the front of the flat and prepared to fire at the mob, an alarm was raised and all of the rioters fled.

On our way back, after we had listened to the account provided above, we met another Sikh colleague of my father's. He had been to a meeting attended by some officials of the local administration and members of the Gurdwara management committee. Apparently, the officials were unwilling to guarantee security, if reconstruction of the Gurdwara were to begin immediately.

A few days later, when I returned to school after the 'communal-riot break', a non-Sikh classmate told me that the Sikhs in the local area had brought the violence upon themselves, because they had celebrated Indira Gandhi's death. My contention that I personally knew no such people appeared to cut no ice with him.

My Memories of 1984 (Part 2)

2009-04-24T15:52:00.001+05:30

The morning after Indira Gandhi's assassination, I was at home, probably because school was closed on account of the state of mourning declared by the government. As I sat near a window in the quarter (one of four dwelling units in a 'block') which had been allotted to my father by his employer, like thousands of others who worked for the public sector unit, I could hear the wives of his colleague who lived next-door and the one who occupied the flat above ours converse among themselves. I do not recall the details, but do remember that there were a lot of unkind words said about the Sikh community, in general.

That evening, I stepped out on the front porch, upon hearing my mother's loud expression of anger, to see huge flames rising into the sky from the spot where the colony's Gurdwara had been. She ordered me inside and went off to ring up the fire brigade. We did not have a telephone connection at home and my father had gone to fetch the family's daily supply of milk.

The Sikh gentleman whose place my mother had gone to for making the telephone call told her that he had already contacted the fire-fighters and that she should go home, give my brother (who was a few days short of his first birth-day at that point of time) a teaspoon of Phenergan, so that he would sleep peacefully through the night, and turn out the lights after having locked all doors and drawn the curtains. She took his advice. Later, when my father returned, he told us about all that he had seen and heard during the day, as we sat in the kitchen, which was lit dimly by a small lamp that he installed there. The rest of the night passed uneventfully.

Early the next morning, my chacha (father's younger brother), who worked in the same manufacturing plant as my father and lived a few minutes of driving distance away, came to see us. He had seen the fire that engulfed the Gurdwara, the previous evening, and had been worried about our safety. As the day wore on, news came in that the home of another Sikh family, at about 10-15 minutes of walking distance from ours, had been attacked by the mob that burnt the Gurdwara and some members injured grievously. The police had been almost completely inactive throughout, so the threat to our lives seemed very real.

The non-Sikh tenants in the quarter diagonally opposite the one we had, offered to let my mother keep her jewellery and some other valuables with them until the violence subsided, for safety, which she accepted. Another such family in the adjacent block offered to let my father park his car in their garage, which he did. The next-door neighbours stored water in drums, whether to help us in case of a calamity or to safeguard themselves, I am not sure.

Since we did not have any weapons for self-defence, except kitchen knives, my mother (since she was not as easily recognisable as a Sikh as my father and I) brought in paving stones, one by one, from a nearby road-construction site, which were then stacked on the inside of the front door. My parents instructed me to pick up my brother and slip out through the back door to hide in the thick foliage behind the residence, with one hand cupped tightly over his mouth, while they would try to stop the hoodlums for as long as they could, in case of an attack.

No such eventuality arose, however, and the army staged a flag-march in the town on the following day, after which no violent incidents were reported. Like us, my chacha and his family, comprised of his wife and young son, also survived unscathed, even as thousands of other Sikhs perished in various parts of India.

My Memories of 1984 (Part 1)

2009-04-15T13:27:00.000+05:30

My brother was less than a year old and I was eight, in June 1984.

During the summer break at school, my mother, brother and I had gone to visit my maternal grandparents at Chandigarh, while my father staid back at Hardwar in the state of Uttar Pradesh, where he worked for a public sector unit. One fine day, curfew was imposed on the city with shoot-at-sight orders, for which no one really knew the reasons. People could not even procure essential supplies, since they risked being shot at if they ventured outside their houses. Fortunately, we had a relative in the local police force, who was able to help us during the few days that there was no relaxation in curfew.

Then, we heard on All India Radio that Sri Harmandir Saahib (Golden Temple) at Amritsar had been stormed by the Indian Army. A day or two later, the curfew was lifted and life went on, though not the same as before, as I was going to find out subsequently. When my father came to fetch us home towards the end of my holidays, a neighbour of my grandfather's, whose son was an army officer, offered to have a batman sent along with us, but my father refused. On the way, ours appeared to be the only car that was stopped and searched at several army and police check-points. They not only searched our luggage, but also made my mother open her hand-bag and the bag containing my brother's diapers, even as vehicles with non-Sikh occupants sped by, unchecked. Out of the handbag's contents, one of the policemen found a pen that could also be worn as a bracelet to be highly suspicious. He made my mother use it to write on a piece of paper, while he and his colleagues at that particular check-post stood at a safe distance, just in case there was to be an explosion.

From all that happened between then and the carnage that took place in the month of November, a couple of incidents stand out in my mind. In the first instance, I was walking alone along a street near where we lived, to run an errand for my mother, the details of which I do not recall now, when a man on a bicycle rode past and then turned around to shout, "Oye aatank-waadi!" (Terrorist!). The same epithet was hurled at me in the second one as well, by a boy a little older than myself, while he and I played with toy guns in a park in the neighbourhood.

Remembering Lahore of Yore

2009-04-02T13:14:00.002+05:30

Khaled Ahmed, a Pakistani journalist, has written recently in the Indian Express about Lahore, as it was known to previous generations and the way in which recent events indicate its transformation into a very different city.

The portions that I found particularly to be of interest include:

"Lahore was known as a tolerant city with a big heart that set cultural trends. It published all the books and magazines that mattered in India and Burma. Jats and Rajputs belonging to Muslim, Hindu and Sikh communities formed cross-communal “unionist” governments that disallowed entry into the province to both Congress and the Muslim League."

and

"The 1941 census had recorded 700,000 people in the city of Lahore out of which 240,000 were Hindus and Sikhs, who owned much of the city’s wealth. There were entire areas in the city, like Chuna Mandi and Shah Alami, which were non-Muslim."

Rock On, Baba Bulleh Shah!

2009-03-24T13:59:00.004+05:30

Baba Bulleh Shah, the Sufi mystic, was always a bit of an iconoclast. That is one of the reasons because of which I enjoy reading and listening to his poetry. Unconventional as he was, I am sure he also would approve of the potent combination formed by his poetry and rock music. The following tracks range from rock to rock-fusion, I believe, in terms of genre.

Title: Aleph
Album: Parvaaz
Artiste(s): Junoon

Title: Bulleya
Album: Parvaaz
Artiste(s): Junoon

Title: Bulla Ki Jaana Maen Kaun
Album: Rabbi
Artitste(s): Rabbi Shergill

Title: Bandeya
Album: OST Khuda Ke Liye
Artiste(s): Khawar Javed

A Few Conclusions Based On The Mumbai Audio Intercepts

2009-03-16T13:06:00.003+05:30

A few days ago, a television news-channel aired excerpts from audio intercepts of telephonic conversations amongst those who attacked Mumbai and their mentors. Based on the portions that I managed to listen to, the following appear to be quite plausible conclusions, if the recordings are presumed to be authentic, apart from the most obvious one i.e. the entire operation was micro-managed from the 'war-room':

1. The attackers were well-trained in the use of fire-arms and other hardware required to achieve their objectives, including electronic equipment, but probably had little combat experience, before they were sent into Mumbai. Also, they had not been put through much training for close-quarter combat in an urban environment, it seems.

Those who laid siege to Nariman House, for instance, expressed their inability to decide upon the appropriate defensive positions to be taken near a staircase and sought guidance from their mentors, after commandos of the National Security Guards (NSG) landed on the roof of the building and began to make their way downwards. Similarly, those who were at the Taj and the Trident required advice on how to take position in the hotels' rooms and when to hurl grenades upon security forces' personnel.

It had appeared to me earlier that the attackers must have been trained as well or perhaps even better than the Indian commandos, since such a small number of them had managed, for so long, to hold off commando forces that are supposed to be India's best. However, as is clear from the audio intercepts, it was not the case and they managed to pull off that feat, to a large extent, on account of live assistance (available round the clock through telephone) from experts.

2. In light of the above, it may be fair to conclude that had communication between the attackers and their handlers been jammed, the terrorists may have been overpowered much sooner than they actually were and, possibly, at a lower cost in terms of loss of life and property. On the other hand, it could be argued that listening in could keep the security forces apprised of the terrorists' activities as well as plans and, therefore, be the more effective approach. That the latter was adopted is now part of history. Whether it was utilised to save the lives of as many non-combatants as possible is something I am not very sure of, however.

During a conversation, after negotiations for meeting some of the terrorists' demands in return for the release of two Israeli women taken hostage in Nariman House had come to naught, a handler ordered them to shoot the women dead. The one who took the call told his superior though that his partner had gone off to sleep, since he was too tired. So, together they decided to postpone the killings for half an hour, when the mentor would call his wards again.

It is difficult to be absolutely certain about whether the women's lives could have been saved if the NSG commandos had stormed the building at that point of time, but that was the only chance they had. Nothing of the sort happened, however, and the security forces continued to listen in, as both women were done to death during the next telephone call, a good 30-40 minutes later. They stormed the building only the next morning, soon after they had heard the terrorists' advisers tell them to move out and attack the security forces in a final and, possibly, suicidal assault, if the besiegers did not enter Nariman House within a certain period of time.

From the aforementioned sequence of events, one may reasonably conclude that whoever was making decisions on behalf of the security forces that day found the hostages' lives to be far less valuable than the opportunity to capture the terrorists alive and to minimise the casualties among the commandos, on account of the terrorists becoming hungrier and thirstier as their food and water supplies ran out and, therefore, their fighting abilities being diminished.

3. If the tapes are to be believed, the television coverage of the attacks did prove to be of assistance to the terrorists, particularly in the case of those besieged at Nariman House. With the help of the visuals provided by various news-channels, those at the command centre informed the foot soldiers that the NSG's men had taken up position on some of the surrounding structures and included snipers with their rifles aimed at the windows of the building, which should be kept away from for that reason. They conveyed to the men that security force personnel were finding it difficult to find a place in the narrow lanes that could provide sufficient cover for them to take up position at and was close enough to the building, in order for the final assault to be launched. Among other vital pieces of information that were passed on was an approximation of the number of commandos dropped on to the roof of Nariman House by helicopter, at a later stage.

The continuous coverage by electronic news-media was also utilised by the controllers to boost the morale of their boys. Details of the number of policemen and soldiers killed, along with their ranks, proved useful in this respect, in addition to the expressions of fear and anxiety by prominent personalities in front of television cameras.

4. Any one who listened to the conversations recorded from Nariman House would know that these were in the Urdu language, whereas those recorded from the Trident were in Punjabi and those from the Taj were partially in Urdu and partially in Punjabi. The Urdu speakers among the mentors sounded, at least to me, like they had a distinct Punjabi accent, however.

Furthermore, it seems to me that some of the mentors had been to schools and/or colleges where the medium of instruction was English, because just like I often tend to do, whenever they were at loss for the appropriate word in Urdu/Punjabi, they made use of an English word instead. Those who have been to educational institutions where the medium of instruction is a regional language also use English words while speaking in the vernacular, but such usage generally tends to sound deliberate.

Colours

2009-03-07T14:32:00.001+05:30

Dusk

2009-02-24T16:38:00.001+05:30

If a picture paints a thousand words...

Quote of the Year

2009-02-15T13:42:00.000+05:30

"You can't make corruption an issue for deciding the political programme and understanding between political parties. (In this manner) we can't have an understanding with any political party."

- Prakash Karat, General Secretary, Communist Party of India (Marxist)

Ashok Chakra awarded despite controversy

2009-02-06T20:25:00.000+05:30

At least one of the winners of the Ashok Chakra, the highest peace-time gallantry award in India, this year, has been granted the honour despite controversy surrounding the supposed act of valour.

In view of the above, the hope for an impartial enquiry being conducted into the incident has receded further. There appears to be a strong possibility that those who decided upon the list of awards might also have arranged for reliable material evidence like autopsy (post mortem examination) reports, which could have proved that there hardly was any bravery involved, to vanish.

The main-stream news-media have mostly remained silent on the issue.

Cellular Silence Day_30th January 2009 Petition

2009-01-29T22:55:00.000+05:30

Cellular Silence Day_30th January 2009 Petition

A Thought for Republic Day

2009-01-25T20:17:00.000+05:30

"Kya banaane aaye thhe aur kya banaa baithhe
KahiN Mandir, kahiN Masjid, kahiN Gurdwara, kahiN Girja banaa baithhe
Hum se toh achhi hai zaat parindoN ki
Kabhi Mandir, kabhi Masjid, kabhi Gurdwaare toh kabhi Girje pe ja baithhe"

(It would be difficult for me to attempt a translation, with my limited talents, without some of the impact being lost. However, it can be safely stated that the poet laments upon the rigid manner in which humanity has been divided on the basis of religion and seeks to compare humans against birds, which visit places of worship of different religious faiths without discrimination and which, therefore, may be considered to regard all religions as equal.)

Peaceful Co-existence

2009-01-19T20:34:00.001+05:30

The king meets some of his subjects.

Defenceless Victims of Reckless Driving

2008-12-29T19:48:00.001+05:30

My mother tried to coax the little one to drink some milk, but he would not come anywhere near her. She chased him for a while, but he ran into the park across the road. So, she returned to her chair in the front-yard, where she and I were sunning ourselves that afternoon. A few minutes later I saw him running along the inside of the boundary-wall on the farther side of the park. A little while after that my mother noticed that he stood at the park's corner and was poised to cross the road. We resumed our conversation about something else and then heard him squeal briefly, once or twice, like he would when his brother bit his ear too hard, while playing. We did not turn around to see what might have made him do that.

"Woh pilla aap ka hai?" (Is that puppy yours?), said a woman's voice that broke the subsequent silence. She had been pruning some of the bushes in the park. The little brown dog's body lay sprawled in the middle of the road. The driver of the vehicle that crushed him had either not bothered to apply the brakes at all or not hard enough, since we heard nothing unusual.

The pup was one of three born to a stray bitch nearly a month ago. She was killed in a similar manner, a few days after giving birth, leaving her offspring in a hole in the ground, in the park mentioned earlier. My mother persuaded a couple of neighbours to take turns with her, to feed the young ones, with milk at first and then with biscuits or bread dissolved in milk. My friend Zakhmi guarded the orphans at night, coiled up on a mound of dirt next to their sleeping-quarters. They largely remained confined to the park until very recently.

Over the past few years, I have seen many such dogs, mostly young pups, mowed down by speeding cars around where I live. The drivers responsible for the deaths have little to fear in terms of complaints being lodged with the police (I am not sure if there even is a law in this country, regarding that.) or crowds gathering to beat them up and damage their vehicles or the news-media reporting upon their deeds, as might be expected if the victims happen to be human. Their own consciences appear to be the least of their problems, in any case.

The only plausible solution, it appears at the moment, is to construct speed-breakers on the road, but I do not have the resources and other local residents do not seem concerned. Government officials do not seem to have the issue anywhere on their list of priorities.

It would obviously be much better though, if people would drive more carefully and spare the lives of defenceless creatures that obviously can not be taught road-sense in the way that humans can be. I also hope that the readers of this blog-post will help spread the word around, since none of the animal-rights organisations in India seem to focus on prevention or to campaign for punitive legislation, even though some provide ambulance services for injured animals.

A Stark Contrast

2008-12-10T14:08:00.008+05:30

This is about two events, A and B, which took place in a country called India. Actually, both comprised a series of events, but these have been considered as single entities here, for the purpose of comparison. A large number of innocent people were killed in both these violent occurrences. That, however, is where the similarity ends. These were different in ways that include the following :

1. While A occurred only a few days ago, B occurred about 24 years ago.

2. While less than 200 people were killed in A, more than 4000 were killed in B.

3. While most of the victims in A were shot dead, in B some were hacked to death, while others were burnt alive after their hands having been tied behind their backs, their bodies drenched with kerosene and burning tyres put around their necks. The women-folk amongst the victims were, in the latter case, forced to watch the male members of their families being killed, including young children, after which they were raped and then killed. Some of the youngest victims were tossed in the air, to be killed by falling on to sharp-edged weapons like spears.

4. The victims of event A mostly included those present in the hotels and the railway station under attack, but during event B, people were dragged out of their own homes to be killed, after which their houses were set on fire.

5. While the police force fought hard against the killers in A, in event B it was either inactive or, in some cases, even assisted the killers by blocking the victims' possible escape routes.

6. While the army was called in within hours of the attacks having begun in the case of event A, it was called in after several days of the commencement of event B, in order to give the killers a free run for that long, even though it acted in an unbiased manner, once it was sent into the affected areas. It is a different matter, however, that there was not much left for it to do.

7. Whereas 9 out of the 10 killers in the case of event A have been shot dead and the remaining one arrested, nearly all of the killers in the case of event B are still at large.

8. While the alleged masterminds of A are said to be located outside India and are sought to be captured at the earliest, even if that involves launching attacks on a neighbouring country, those for B are all present within India and yet none of them have been brought to justice over the past 24 years. As a matter of fact, some of them have been legislators and even cabinet ministers in the government of India during that period.

Some of them, ironically, are protected by the men of the same elite commando force i.e. National Security Guards (NSG), which was sent in to fight against the attackers in A. The political party that these alleged masterminds belong to, won a huge electoral victory in the general election that followed event B, almost as if it was being rewarded by large sections of India's population for its 'good work' that was widely perceived to have included the organisation of the massacre.

9. Following event A, the prime minister of India declared that such events are a threat to pluralistic societies, while the (then) prime minister of India said following event B, "Jab baRaa peyR girtaa hai toh dharti toh hilti hi hai." (When a large tree falls, the earth is bound to shake.).

10. Following event A, there has been a large-scale outpouring of grief by various sections of the general public in the form of demonstrations replete with banners, black arm-bands and plenty of slogan-shouting, in addition to candle-light marches, chain-letters circulated through email, etc., while very little of anything like that was in evidence after event B or for the 24 years that have gone by since then.

11. Whereas politicians are being criticised and even being abused following event A, the politicians perceived as being largely responsible for event B were able to build up a huge fan-following, on account of which, as mentioned above, they were able to win general elections with a huge margin of victory, soon after the violence.

12. One of the most prominent slogans that have been raised after event A is, "Enough (of terrorism) is enough!", but since there have hardly been any protests after event B, over the past 24 years, except by some of those belonging to the same community as the victims, there is no question of any such slogans having been raised. However, soon before event B, one of the slogans raised was, "Khoon ka badlaa khoon se laiNgay!" (We shall avenge blood with blood (of innocents who had nothing to do with the incident sought to be 'avenged')!)

Incidentally, if event A is substituted by any other instance of terrorist violence in India and event B is substituted by any other instance of communal riots in the country, the contrast is likely to remain almost as stark.

The foremost question that arises in my mind, in view of all of the above facts, can be summed up in one word i.e. why?

Update: March 7, 2009. Apparently, I am not the only one who has noticed the contrast. The following is an excerpt from a letter published on page 14 of the March 2009 issue of the Indian edition of the Reader's Digest:

"This country is known for its double standards. Orissa was targeted by our "in-house" terrorists and no one really cared about the innocent civilians who were burnt alive or about a nun who was gang raped in front of mute policemen. But when it comes to Mumbai being terrorized, every politician is playing his part and the whole nation is voicing its opinion."

Prima Facie: A Few Observations on the Mumbai Attacks

2008-12-01T15:34:00.015+05:30

In view of the recent events in Mumbai, in particular, and India, in general, after I put aside the feelings of pride based on the valour displayed by the officers and men of the Mumbai Police and Fire Brigade Departments and those of the Indian Army, Navy and various special forces, the staff of the Taj Mahal and Oberoi-Trident hotels, in addition to those of grief on account of the loss of so many innocent lives, I have the following observations to make:

1. Hemant Karkare, who was the chief of Mumbai police's anti-terrorism squad (ATS), died in the course of the attacks, having been shot thrice in the chest, even though he was wearing a bullet-proof jacket. It leads me to wonder whether those who were responsible for procuring the jacket decided that Mumbai's policemen did not need a jacket that could stop bullets fired from an AK-47 or whether they, in fact, accepted bribes to procure jackets that were not up to the requisite quality standards.

2. A contingent of the National Security Guards (NSG) was flown in from New Delhi to tackle the gunmen. Their flight took off from New Delhi at about 1:15 a.m. on November 27, even as the attacks had begun at about 9:15 p.m. on the previous day. They are reported to have gone into action at only about 6:00 a.m. on November 27.

The Marine Commando Corps (MARCOS) of the Indian Navy, stationed at Mumbai itself, was ultimately called into action, but that too happened several hours after the NSG contingent had become airborne.

The NSG's men are supposed to be able to get ready to board an aircraft with all their equipment within 30-45 minutes, but in this case it took much longer as an aeroplane had to be arranged for first. Later, apart from those who were dropped by helicopter on to Nariman House's roof, the rest had to be transported there by buses requisitioned from the Brihanmumbai Electric Supply & Transport Undertaking (BEST).

Apparently, no one had ever considered before that action by an elite commando force may be required in a city like Mumbai, in case of a terrorist attack, at any point of time and planned for it at all.

3. The press-conference conducted by a section of MARCOS that took part in the operations made two things very clear. They were not even provided with a copy of the building-plan of the Taj Mahal hotel, before they were sent in and secondly and even more importantly, some essential equipment that they did not have included night-vision devices.

The terrorists were able to strike at will, more or less, since they knew more about the building-plan than the commandos. It may be worth noting here that if a skilled set of commandos are provided with the layout of a building that they are about to storm, even a few minutes before they move in, a huge difference can be made in the effectiveness of their operations and, therefore, help them save more lives.

Since the MARCOS did not have night-vision devices, the terrorists could escape when they encountered the commandos in the dark and cause much greater damage later. It also led to two of the commandos suffering from serious injuries in that particular fire-fight.

The building-plan could have been provided to the MARCOS by Mumbai's civil authorities, if not the hotel's management.

As far as the procurement of essential equipment is concerned, perhaps the chiefs of the three defence services could exhibit the same kind of unity and strength of will while asking for it, as they did while trying to get a salary raise equivalent to bureaucrats and policemen for themselves and the soldiers they command. The bureaucrats and politicians in the Ministry of Defence might then let them have it.

4. The NSG not only lost one of its men during its operations at Nariman House, but also failed to save the lives of five people that the two gunmen holed up there had taken hostage, even though it managed to kill the gunmen. Another commando of the NSG was killed during its operations at the Taj Mahal hotel. Although I am not fully competent to comment on this, but I do wonder whether the NSG's skills are getting rusty owing to a lack of time and resources to practice for such situations, as a large number of its men have been employed as personal security guards for the country's top politicians.

Incidentally, some of the politicians protected by the NSG have been widely accused of embezzlement of crores of rupees, nepotism, incitement of communal riots, deliberate inaction during widespread communal violence (in which thousands of innocent people were robbed, raped and/or killed in a brutal manner and their properties set on fire) while serving in positions of power, among other such grave charges.

5*. Unlike the MARCOS, who were very careful about protecting their identities, many of the NSG's men did not wear the balaclava helmets issued to them in a proper manner, while they were in action at the hotels and at Nariman House. As a result, the faces of many of them were revealed to television cameras. A number of them spoke briefly to television news-channels after the encounter at Nariman House was over, with their faces uncovered. An injured NSG commando admitted to a hospital in Mumbai has been interviewed by television news-channels including BBC World Service and NDTV 24x7. Although they do not seem to have realised this, such actions could expose the men, while they are off-duty, as well as their families to retribution by terrorist organisations.

Perhaps it is time for their senior officers to remind them to be more disciplined, like the MARCOS.

6*. The interviews with the injured NSG commando made it clear that the NSG's men also did not have night-vision devices, just like the MARCOS.

7. When Lieutenant General N. Thamburaj, chief of the Indian Army's Southern Command, held a press conference on the morning of November 28, he mentioned that the NSG had suffered casualties, but he would rather not say whether these had been fatal or non-fatal, since that could, according to him, affect the remaining terrorists' frame of mind. I knew as soon as the words were out of his mouth that the NSG had suffered fatal casualties i.e. some of its men had lost their lives. If I could make that out, obviously the terrorists also could, if they managed to listen in to the Lieutenant General's statement.

8. The electronic news-media in India, it appears, has still not come of age. While the BBC World News channel called in intelligence analysts and anti-terrorism experts to discuss all that was unfolding, Indian television channels interviewed actors and directors from the Hindi film industry, in addition to members of the general public, to discuss the state of affairs in Mumbai, besides making an attempt towards sensationalising minor discoveries, even as bullets flew and their reporters stood outside the buildings under attack, counting the number of gun-shots and explosions that they could hear. Also, news from all other parts of the country and from the rest of the world was almost completely taken off air for the duration of the attacks, which was nearly three days.

9. I think I will not be surprised at all if it is found that the terrorists and their arsenal came in through a regular route for smuggling via sea, after the usual amounts of bribes having been paid to the staff of relevant government agencies that were on duty.

10. Not so long ago, investigations by the Hemant Karkare-led ATS revealed that recent bomb-blasts in the town of Malegaon, in Maharashtra, which led to the loss of many innocent lives, were planned and executed by certain Hindu right-wing organisations and subsequent arrests included Sadhvi Pragya Thakur and a serving officer of the Indian Army i.e. Lieutenant Colonel Srikant Purohit.

Initially, when the Sadhvi was sought to be linked to senior leaders of the principal opposition party in the lower house of parliament, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), on account of information dug-up by the news-media, it sought to distance itself from her. However, later on, when it became known that no substantial material evidence had so far been gathered against her by the ATS, the party's president, Mr. Rajnath Singh, and its prime ministerial candidate, Mr. L. K. Advani, began to defend her in a big way through public statements.

More recently, however, Mr. Karkare and his men were reported to have obtained clinching evidence in the form of video and audio recordings of meetings in which the Sadhvi, the Lieutenant Colonel and their cohorts were seen and heard planning the bomb-blasts. These were, apparently, found on the laptop computer of one of their co-accused. It was also reported that the ATS meant to make the entire plot public, after tying up a few loose ends, very shortly. If that had happened, Mr. Advani, Mr. Singh and their party-men might have found themselves at a loss for words with respect to this issue, especially while facing the electorate in the upcoming general elections.

Now that Mr. Karkare is dead, though, no one really knows as to what is likely to become of the investigation. The new chief of the ATS may not be as upright an officer and may not pursue the matter as vigorously. In any case, the accused in the Malegaon bomb-blast case and the BJP have already benefitted from the Mumbai attacks, in this respect, since the attention of the news-media has been diverted completely.

So, ultimately, the Islamist militants who attacked Mumbai appear to have come to rescue of the Hindus accused of terrorism in Malegaon. It seems as if there is greater solidarity amongst the Hindus and Muslims who are terrorists than those who are the common citizens of India. As a matter of fact, India might not have been a victim of terrorism at all if there had been greater solidarity between the majority community i.e. Hindus and the various minorities like Muslims, Sikhs and Christians.

I have seen in this country something that can only be termed as 'selective grief'. Whereas there is a huge outpouring of grief and rightly so, from all over the country, when nearly 200 people are killed in a terrorist attack, it is also true that there are large numbers of people who celebrate the killings of 2000 or 4000 people during communal riots by rewarding politicians widely perceived as having organised and presided over these with huge electoral victories, as happened in the elections for the Gujarat state legislature in 2002 and for the Lok Sabha in 1984, following anti-Muslim and anti-Sikh riots, respectively. Many of these politicians, as pointed out earlier, are now protected by personnel of the same NSG that battled against terrorists in Mumbai over the past few days. It is almost needless to add that these powerful men and women have been able to successfully prevent or stall legal proceedings against the majority of those responsible for communal violence or, when proceedings have been completed, to have them acquitted of most of the charges. Factors like these help provide fresh local recruits to terrorist organisations, in the form of actual combatants as well as those who provide logistical support.

*Updates to original blog-post, on December 04, 2008.

Punjabi Poetry From Across the Border

2008-11-24T12:39:00.001+05:30

The following videos show Pakistani poet Anwar Masood reciting two of his Punjabi poems.

The latter poem refers to the famous Anarkali Bazar in the city of Lahore.

Recitations of some more of his poems, in his own voice, can be listened to at the website of the Academy of the Punjab in North America.

I would like to thank Asma, for introducing me to Masood saaheb's poetry.

Reflections

2008-11-13T09:46:00.002+05:30

Gurdwara Bangla Sahib, New Delhi, photographed by yours truly on Guru Nanak Dev ji's birthday, in the year 2005.

Little Drops of Water, Little Grains of Sand…

2008-11-06T13:51:00.002+05:30

Apart from the rather well-publicised opening of a trade route between India and Pakistan across the Line of Control (LoC) in Kashmir, efforts made recently towards improving Indo-Pak relations have also resulted in the organisation of a music festival and a series of Kabaddi matches in Punjab. The latter, it appears, have not been covered as extensively in the news-media, nationally as well as internationally, as the former.

Three Centuries with the Eternal Guru

2008-10-28T17:05:00.001+05:30

To mark the celebrations of the tercentenary of the elevation of the Guru Granthh Saahib as the Eternal Guru (teacher) of the Sikhs, a rather comprehensive yet concise write-up has appeared in the Sunday Magazine section of 'The Hindu', on October 26. In it have been described the events leading up to the elevation, those whose writings have been included in the holy book, besides the nature and structure of its contents and the manner in which these have been set to Hindustani classical music.

Where Do We Go Now?

2008-10-16T14:08:00.003+05:30

My father and I were at a local chemist's to pick up some of my medicines, when I saw two young women leaving a neighbouring shop. One look at them and I was convinced that another sport India could possibly expect gold-medals from, as soon as it is included in the Olympic games, is Sumo wrestling. In any case, they walked away carrying polythene-bags filled with their shopping. As they did so, however, one of them dropped something. It looked like a very thick pen, but probably was a make-up tool. Since they failed to notice the loss, I rushed to pick up the instrument and return it to them. They left after briefly mumbling a few words of thanks.

A day or two later, I found out about a young lad who had tried to act as a good Samaritan, in a crowded market-place in New Delhi, and had his head blown off in the bargain.

These incidents reminded me of the lyrics of an old Hindi film song that went somewhat like:

"Ab kahaaN jaayeiN hum, ye bataa ai zameeN
Is jahaaN maiN toh koi hamaara nahi
Apne saaye se bhi loag darne lagay
Ab kisi ko kisi par bharosa nahi..."

(This can be roughly translated as:

"Where do we go now, tell us O Earth
There is no one that we can call our own in this world
People have begun to fear their own shadows
No one trusts any one else any more...")

One kind of organisation that is being trusted to a great degree these days by a large proportion of India's population though, especially with respect to the arrests of several 'masterminds' responsible for bomb-blasts in different parts of India and some such men being shot down in New Delhi, is the police.

It is quite interesting to note that the police did not inspire the same kind of trust amongst the public when they claimed to have solved the murder of a teenager, Aarushi Talwar, in Delhi's suburb of Noida and arrested her father for the heinous crime, in addition to having provided 'details' of the teenager's 'affair' with one of the family's servants, who was also found murdered at the same time, as well as the manner in which her parents were supposed to have swapped spouses and performed orgies along with another couple. In fact, some senior police officials were not only transferred by the concerned state government, but also severely reprimanded for making such 'wild allegations' by no less than the Union Minister of State for Women and Child Welfare.

The police also failed to inspire the same kind of confidence amongst the public when Manu Sharma could not be prosecuted for the murder of Jessica Lal, whom he had shot dead in front of several people in a restaurant, or when Santosh Kumar Singh could not be prosecuted for the rape and murder of Priyadarshini Mattoo, in the trial courts. Both these men were convicted in higher courts only after a massive public outcry, especially amongst members of 'civil society', and an intense campaign by some sections of the news-media.

Even if one were to put aside charges of inaction and even complicity, levelled against the police, the fact remains that hardly any convictions have been secured in cases related to the anti-Sikh communal riots, in 1984, in several parts of North and Central India and the small number of convictions achieved in cases related to the anti-Muslim riots that occurred in the state of Gujarat in 2002 have largely been in those cases, which have been moved to courts in states other than Gujarat.

It is rather strange that a large number of people are prepared to accept police officers' statements as the gospel truth, whenever these are related to any action of theirs that has the words 'terrorist' and 'Muslim/Sikh' associated with it. I recall a time when, in my home-state i.e. Punjab, one could literally have any one bumped off by the police, for an appropriate 'fee'. Soon thereafter, a report would duly appear in all major newspapers, describing the deceased as a 'dreaded terrorist' who had been shot down in an 'encounter' with the police and providing details of the arms and ammunition supposed to have been found in his possession. At other times, young men from well-to-do families were picked up and demands for ransom made from their near and dear ones, threatening them to pay up unless they wanted their boys to meet a fate similar to the one described in the previous sentence. Later on, when enquiries began to be carried out regarding police excesses, some senior officers preferred to commit suicide than to face up to their past deeds. During these men's heyday, they were, of course, hailed as heroes by the news-media as well as large sections of the country's population. Among extra-judicial killings in other states, the alleged murders of Sohrabbudin Sheikh and his wife Kausarbi by some policemen in Gujarat and the subsequent arrest and trial of the errant officers have been well-publicised in the recent past. Condemnation for such abominable acts has come even from within the ranks of the police, at the highest level.

Coming to the recent 'encounter' in the Jamia Nagar area of New Delhi, the police's version appears to have been accepted completely by most Indians, including members of the news-media who had raised a lot of din regarding the investigation of cases related to crimes against Aarushi Talwar, Jessica Lal and Priyadarshini Mattoo. Questions, even as there seems to be plenty of scope for these, are being raised only by some leaders from within the Muslim community, a few politicians from the Samajwadi Party, in addition to two civil rights groups.

Although the doubts that have been raised are based on a rational line of thought, I suppose these could have been far more specific, had the questioners had a good look at Mail Today's issue dated September 24, 2008. It includes an eye-witness account that can turn the police's version on its head. However, since there appears to be little probability of the witnesses quoted in the report ever testifying in a court of law, it should perhaps be more prudent to concentrate on some of the contents of the autopsy (post mortem examination) reports of Inspector Mohan Chand Sharma (who was the only policeman killed) and one of the slain 'terrorists' that have also been published.

Regarding Inspector Sharma's autopsy, the newspaper report states the following:

"The autopsy report on Sharma, which is with Headlines Today, says he was shot at from extremely close range, no more than a few centimetres from him. He was hit by three bullets.

All of them entered through the back and followed top-to-down trajectory."

"Inspector Sharma was first shot in his left shoulder.

The next shot hit him a little lower with the bullet missing the spine and then, for the last time, he was shot just above the waist.

All three bullets exited his body from the front. No bullets were lodged in his body as an X- Ray showed. Also, the bullet wounds show that they entered Sharma’s body from a top angle. This indicates that whoever shot him had the advantage of height.

Under these circumstances, it’s very hard to say who shot the officer."

Whereas, with respect to the autopsy of one of the 'terrorists' it states that:

"The body of one of the ‘terrorists’ bears injury marks, sharp wounds and multiple internal injuries in the stomach. Doctors say such injuries are usually attributed to a scuffle, actually a violent physical assault. Someone may even have stamped on him."

For the uninitiated, the wound caused by a bullet at its point of entry into a human body is quite distinct from the wound at the point of exit, thus making it possible for experts who conduct an autopsy to clearly distinguish between the two.

So, it is quite difficult to comprehend the mysterious way in which the so-called terrorists were supposed to have shot at Inspector Sharma from his front-side, according to the police's version of the shoot-out, and yet the bullets that hit him were actually fired from behind him, as the autopsy report proves.

Also, since one of the 'terrorists' who were shot dead was obviously beaten to the ground and hit rather hard, as evident from his autopsy report, the reasons for which the police then let him go and fetch himself a gun to shoot at them are difficult to fathom. Anyhow, his being beaten up forms no part of the police's account.

If we assume that the 'encounter' was not fake, perhaps it so happened that as soon as the 'terrorists' opened the door, the policemen pounced upon them and gave them a sound thrashing (which the autopsy report provides credible evidence for), but soon the law enforcers were tired and decided to take a breather. During that interlude, one of the terrorists sneaked away and got his assault rifle and pistol from inside the house. Subsequently, he either jumped over Inspector Sharma's head or crawled between the Inspector's legs, without being seen by him (otherwise the Inspector might have turned around to face the 'terrorist'), to get behind him and then shot him three times from extremely close range. To my mind, however, it appears highly improbable, if not impossible, for anything like that to have happened, because the 'terrorist' would have had to be a comic-book super-hero with super-human powers, rather than a normal human being, in order to accomplish such a feat.

As the demand for a judicial probe into the incident is yet to meet with a favourable response from the government and the principal opposition party appears opposed to it as well, in addition to the courts not having taken suo moto notice of relevant reports in the news-media, there appears to be little hope for truth to triumph.

Besides, as shown by the mutually contradictory reports presented recently by the judicial commissions headed by Mr. Justice Nanavati and Mr. Justice Bannerjee, set up to investigate the events that led up to the anti-Muslim carnage in 2002, even judicial enquiries seem to have become politically motivated.

As the country continues to slide towards becoming a Communal, Capitalist, Undemocratic Republic, instead of the Secular, Socialist, Democratic Republic envisaged by those who wrote the Constitution of India, where does one turn to for justice, in the real sense of the word?

The Communal Psyche

2008-10-08T00:48:00.000+05:30

The following article appeared on page 12 in the E-Paper edition of Mail Today dated October 7, 2008. In the print edition, the article appeared on page 10, in the issue dated October 7, 2008.

Hapless Christians handy for minority bashing

by Dipankar Gupta

Why the Christians? Have we run out of Muslims and Sikhs, that a small and insignificant minority should be slaughtered, pillaged and raped at will by right wing Hindutva forces? This may sound strange, but in a real sense that the saffron mob has in deed — if not in words — run out of options. This is why they have now turned against Christians. They are the last soft target.

The Sikhs set the retaliation game in motion. They hit out, often randomly, at designated targets making it known to Hindu sectarians that taking on a Sikh will not be a picnic any longer. This stopped further attacks against them. The Muslims picked up this lead and set their own pace by orchestrating the Mumbai blasts of 1993, and several after that in quick succession. So the Muslims can no longer be hunted down either for casual Hindu amusement.

This only leaves the Christians. It must be borne in mind that Hindutva activists are at their predacious best when the kill is easy and their own safety assured in advance. This is why where Christians are in sizable numbers, such as in Nagaland, Kerala or even Goa, Hindutva sectarians dare not touch them. Instead they turn to areas like the Dangs in Gujarat or Kandmahal in Orissa where Christians are scattered and isolated. In these places it is easy to kill without the fear of being killed.

Rationale

Ever since the Mumbai blasts the Muslims in that metropolis feel much safer. In many sensitive areas they have had no difficulty in increasing the plinth area of their mosques or the height of these structures. In fact, word has gone around among Muslims in the city that they can count on Shiv Sena support for these activities. If truth be told, the day after the Mumbai blast in 1993, the Shiv Sena newspaper Samna editorialized in a most conciliatory fashion asking for greater understanding between communities. Till then Bal Thackery, through this daily, was spewing hell fire and brimstone. What led him to alter his tone? What had changed?

The answer is ridiculously simple. One of the bombs in the Mumbai blasts went off outside the Shiv Sena office. This scared the Shiv Sena heroes into changing their tone and going immediately on the defensive. Something quite similar happened in Gujarat. After Godhra, bombs went off in different parts of India, including Ahmedabad, but this time there was no Hindutva “ retaliation”. If Modi could not control the Hindus after Godhra, how did he manage it in the face of a clear and direct challenge from Muslims in his own state? Clearly, fear of Muslim retaliation filled the bullying hearts of Hindutva partisans. They now realized that hate shrapnel could also be directed towards them. This took the shine off from anti- Muslim carnages. This gave them more than enough reason to pause.

And while they paused they pondered. If not the Sikhs and the Muslims, who then? Then the paisa dropped — of course, the Christians!

This is why it is important to distinguish between those who are willing to die for a cause, from those who are only willing to kill for one. Hindu extremist parties and organizations, all the way to the BJP, can encourage, condone and organize mobs to kill for Hindutva, but none of them is willing to die for it. This trait also separates fundamentalist from pure ethnic baiters. A fundamentalist like Khomeini, and even Bhindranwale, would encourage the faithful to go back to the foundational principles of their religion and draw strength from there. Khomeini said that America may be the house of the Shaitan , but Muslims must pay attention first and foremost to the five pillars of Islam.

No such catechism for the Hindutva mobs. Bal Thackeray said that to be a good Hindu one must be ready, willing and able to attack Muslims. He believed that this was the surest way of avenging centuries of hurt. It is, therefore, not necessary for Shiv Sainiks, or for most Hindu sectarians, to be well versed in Hinduism. This is why Shiv Sainiks believe that good Hindus can be in blue jeans, as long as there is hate in their hearts and saffron in their flags.

It should be clear by now that there is no social science behind the killings of Muslims, Sikhs, or Christians. Even so, academics, intellectuals, commentators and secular do- gooders are always searching for social and economic reasons behind these ethnic slaughters. What they do not realize is that the moment one gives into this kind of weak secular urges, Hindutva mobs find easy justification. Muslim terrorism today has nothing to do with Al Qaeda, Taliban, Palestine, or even Iraq. These terrorists are home bred and are direct outcomes of Babri Masjid and Godhra.

Cowardice

So when Christians are being killed let us not search for its causes in the rising graph of conversions. Such an exercise is not only fraught with difficulties, but it may also direct our attention to poverty- based explanations. Which in turn would be the reason for something else, and the regression exercises could go on. What such analysts should ask is: Why don’t these Hindutva activists go to Nagaland or somewhere else where Christians are in a majority and show us their nationalist derring- do there? Why is it that they are only active where their safety is guaranteed? In places where there is no administrative encouragement, sanction or connivance, Hindutva activists, of whatever description, dare not strike any minority community.

This is why such attacks take place largely in BJP run areas like Gujarat, Rajasthan, Karnataka or Orissa. Wherever Hindutva presence is built into the state administrative system, saffron forces are assured that every ethnic attack will be like a picnic. Even as L. K. Advani, Rajnath Singh and BJP national leaders assembled on September 14 in Bangalore, 16 churches were attacked in Dakshina Kannada, Chikmaglur and Udupi.

Martyrdom

When it comes to linguistic and caste wars there is social science involved as jobs are to be won or lost on these grounds. But when Muslims or Christians are killed, nobody wants their income or livelihood. They are attacked only to make Hindutva organizations look good, and nothing else. This is why, in such contexts, social science of any kind is irrelevant. Social forensics, however, can be of some use in these circumstances. It would be interesting to know who killed whom, for how much and for what?

But it will not be a smooth run for too long. When people have their backs to the wall, they have to hit back. True, battle is not built into the Bible as it is in Sikh and Muslim texts, but that can be easily overcome. Remember the early history of Christianity is all about martyrs. In the medieval years it was about the Crusades. These are background memories that can always be enlivened.

The most effective way however is not to set up vigilante groups, or terror outfits, but to make the state responsible for protecting minorities, and ensuring that the Constitution and the law of the land are upheld. Citizenship knows no colour or creed, and if the Christians are the new Muslims of today, our state should bear the responsibility for this outcome.

The writer teaches sociology in JNU

Pillion-Rider

2008-09-28T19:44:00.003+05:30

This amazing scene was photographed at Bangalore, by my brother.

A Black-Out and Other Short Stories

2008-09-20T14:09:00.004+05:30

A few days ago, I had gone to New Delhi by local train. The train took about 45 minutes to reach the Shivaji Bridge (formerly known as Minto Bridge) station. From there, I walked to the middle circle of Connaught Place, where I had to deliver some papers at an office, on my father's behalf. After that, I walked on to Gurdwara Bangla Sahib, where I spent a few minutes, before walking back to the station. Usually, it takes me about 25 minutes, either way, to perambulate to Bangla Sahib and back and the Connaught Place errand was only a slight detour.

On the return journey, there were no vacant seats in sight, so I stood with my back against a wooden partition, surrounded by other travellers. Though the fans installed in the compartment were of little help against the heat and humidity, the wind coming through the wide open doors offered relief, at least when the train was in motion. At one of the many stops on the way, I began to feel somewhat dizzy and held on to an overhead rail to steady myself. Then, it happened. It was as if my brain had switched off for a few moments, almost like a computer that gets restarted on its own. When the lights came back on, my knees were bent forward slightly, because I had slid down a bit along the wooden partition. My turban was slightly disturbed, on account of having rubbed against the partition. I tried to stand up straight and to reach once again for the overhead rail, but could do neither. Some one suggested that I should squat on the floor, which I did. Some one else offered me a drink of water. By the time the train reached the station where I had to get off, I had regained my strength and walked back home from there.

Those who have seen me might imagine that I have a black-out every other day, if not every day, on account of my ultra-slim physique. However, it came as a huge surprise to me, since anything of the kind had never happened to me before. Intense physical exercise in the past had caused weight-loss, but not a black-out. For instance, when I covered more than 100 kilometres of hilly terrain on foot, during a trek organised by the Youth Hostels Association of India in the Melghat Tiger Reserve in the state of Maharashtra, over a period of 5 days, I lost a few kilograms and probably looked even more skeletal at the end of it, but never did my brain shut down even for a single second.

The family-doctor has attributed the episode to low blood-pressure and a consequent shut-down of oxygen supply to the brain for a few seconds. According to him, my liver and intestines are not functioning at full-capacity. So, all the nutrients from the food that I eat do not reach my blood-stream. He has prescribed iron and calcium supplements along with some tablets and capsules to help the malfunctioning organs regain a healthy state and has also told me to try and protect myself, as far as possible, against infections, since any anti-biotics prescribed to cure those could harm my liver even further.

If my body were an automobile, I could have just gone and got the carburettor and air-filter cleaned, I suppose, or perhaps even the engine flushed clean of any carbon deposits, in addition to a change of engine oil, so as to restore the fuel efficiency.

A Proud Punjabi

2008-09-15T13:45:00.001+05:30

The following article appeared recently in The Tribune, Chandigarh, India.

He proudly wears Punjabi attire

Sarbjit Dhaliwal
Tribune News Service

Chandigarh, August 31
In every society, there are only a handful of people who dare to tread uncommon paths. Balkaur Singh, who retired today as excise and taxation officer of the Punjab government, after putting in 33 years of service, is one such person. Of the nearly 6 lakh employees of the Punjab government, he maintained a distinct identity.

He did not wear pants and shirt unlike most senior and junior babus in Punjab and many other parts of the country, even once during the entire tenure of service. And he did not even wear a kurta and pyjama while on duty. Without bothering about self-imposed protocol by babus, Balkaur Singh wore the traditional Punjabi dress, chadar, kurta and tilledar jutti during the period of his entire service. He was the only employee of the state government who attended top-level official meetings in the traditional attire.

Before joining service as an inspector in 1975, Balkaur did his post graduation in English and Punjabi as a regular student from Panjab University in the early 1970s. He sat in the class room in the traditional Punjabi dress without bothering about what other students and teachers felt about his dress. “My colleagues and other students in the university and during service in the excise department used to taunt me, but I did not bother as I always feel proud of my Punjabi identity,” said Balkaur Singh.

A brief comment made by an English couple in 1966 changed his life forever. He was so hurt by the comment that he decided not to wear “pants and shirt” ever again. “The British couple was sitting in front of our college at Sirsa. Out of curiosity, I along with other students went to see them as we had never seen such people,” said Balkaur Singh. “As far as language and dress is concerned we are still ruling India,” said the Englishman. “Listening to that remark I felt so humiliated that I decided not to wear the attire given to us by Englishmen,” said Balkaur, who also holds post graduation degrees in philosophy, sociology and psychology.

He says public life is dominated by thugs, corrupt and dishonest people. Bureaucrats and other government officials take pleasure in harassing common people. Hypocrisy has become way of life. Ruling classes of all hues are dishonest to people to whom they pretend to serve, he says. “As I had the guts to confront dishonest people, no one asked me to do anything illegal. I tried my best to serve small traders and businessmen honestly and never harassed them. In fact, I tried to help them. I spared those who committed mistakes inadvertently, but never spared those who have been dodging the government by using influence and their status”, he adds.

Balkaur says, “I will now promote Punjabi culture and expose hypocrites, who in the name of serving and promoting Punjabi culture are playing their own politics”.

Recognition from Fellow Bloggers

2008-09-07T13:45:00.003+05:30

It feels good when the blog picks up an award or two or three.

It is time to recycle an old acceptance speech, I suppose.

Update: It feels especially good when the major inspiration for me to have started blogging is recognised.

Non-Verbal Communication

2008-09-01T12:30:00.003+05:30

The sound of my mother's voice woke me from a rather extended afternoon nap.

"TuuN B***y (my nick-name) nu milan aaya aiN, ke dudh peen?"

(Have you come to see Sidhusaaheb or have you come to drink milk?)

Shortly, my friend Zakhmi appeared at the door of my room. I beckoned him over and he sauntered up to where I sat. After getting his ears scratched and his head patted for a while, he turned around and trotted away.

A few seconds later, he stood in the dining room, facing the kitchen, where my mother was, watching her with rapt attention. (He never enters the kitchen, because the old lady has told him not to.) Off and on, he would wag his tail a bit and then lick his lips as well, very expectantly. He appeared downcast, though, when my mother declared, "Hun tainu kujh nahi milna khaan-peen nu!" (You are not going to get anything to eat or drink now!)

He went off and parked himself on the the living-room floor, from where he had a clear view of the refridgerator. When I walked up to him, he turned himself upside down and offered me one of his fore-paws, which I shook vigorously. He seemed happy and even more so when I scratched his stomach. Although he was quite engrossed in playing with me, he stopped to watch carefully and to lick his lips, whenever my mother opened the refridgerator.

After a while, my mother changed her mind and offered him a slice of bread. He sniffed at it briefly and then settled down even more comfortably. A biscuit was met with a similar response, but as soon as she cut open a poly-pack of milk with a pair of scissors, he jumped up and then followed her outside, where his feeding bowl was.

An Indo-Pak Joint Venture

2008-08-25T17:55:00.000+05:30

This pair of sandals was purchased from Hasan Abdal, Punjab, Pakistan, in April 2006.

Recently, when the inner soles required replacement, I sought help from the friendly-neighbourhood cobbler. So, at present, this is the handiwork of Indian as well as Pakistani craftsmen.

Happy 62nd Year of Independence!

2008-08-21T15:43:00.002+05:30

Song Title: Bilqis
Album: Avengi Ja Nahin
Artiste: Rabbi Shergill

A Secular Ruler and a Statesman

2008-08-15T17:20:00.000+05:30

A book that has been released recently seeks to highlight the secular and meritocratic principles on which Maharaja Ranjit Singh's administration was based, besides his qualities of statesmanship that enabled him to stave off British attempts to usurp his empire, for as long as he was alive.

Connecting personally with the Tenth Master

2008-08-07T23:05:00.002+05:30

I suppose I must have heard of him for the first time from my parents or grand-parents, while I was very young. Later on, a few years after I had started going to school, I read about his life and times in an illustrated comic book.

I do not recall how much information my text-books at school provided me about him, if at all. However, I do remember that a considerable amount of information was available in the books for the History and Culture of Punjab course that I had to take up as one of the two compulsory subjects at college, in accordance with the syllabus prescribed by the Panjab University, Chandigarh.

Although I had a fair idea of the main precepts of my faith i.e. Sikhism and the Khalsa panthh (the foundation of which marked a quantum leap in the evolution of Sikhism, in my opinion) initiated by the tenth Guru (teacher) of the Sikhs, Guru Gobind Singh, since my early days, like belief in a single, formless, indestructible, eternal Supreme Being i.e. WaheGuru, who is never born and never dies and is omnipotent and omnipresent and whom people that practise different religions address by different names, it was much later, when I actually started reading the scriptures that I realised that Sikhism is more of a way of life than a religious faith.

The Guru Granthh Saahib, I found, after I read certain portions of it, lays down a complete code of conduct that one can follow from birth to death. It will certainly not lead to the fulfilment of every wish, but can let one have something over and above that, which is peace of mind. Not every one who claims to be a Sikh these days, mostly on account of having forefathers who had, at some point of time, developed faith in the teachings of the Sikh Gurus, seems to understand that, though, and some seek alternative means for the fulfilment of their material desires. The truth is that even I did not comprehend that, until very recently, when I started reading Gurbaani on my own. At various points of time in my life, I have, in fact, been silly enough to pray for a certain score in my school or college examinations or even to request the Almighty to let some girl or the other to pay more attention to me, if not marry me! Little did I realise then that as a Sikh, when I pray for sarbat da bhalaa (the welfare of all), as a part of my daily prayers, I liberate myself from the need to ask for anything specific for my own self.

I suppose that if the entire body of knowledge included in the holy book is taken as being analogous to that acquired by some one with a bachelor's degree, then I am still in kindergarten. With the average level of intellect that I possess, I may never actually be able to assimilate all of it in my lifetime, it appears to me, let alone practise it. That realisation has brought home another more profound one, related to the wisdom of the ten Gurus of Sikhism. I have always thought of them as incredibly wise men, but this has added an entirely new dimension to that.

That the Gurus were all well-versed in music is quite obvious, since not only did they employ musical compositions to spread their message far and wide, but the contents of the Guru Granthh Saahib have also been set to music, with an appropriate raaga prescribed for each of the verses, to be made use of when these are to be recited with musical accompaniment.

Beyond that, when one tries to recall those amongst them who learnt and practised the art of war, the two names that come to mind are those of the sixth master, Guru Hargobind, who sought to combine miri and piri (the temporal and the spiritual) and raised an army of the Sikhs for the first time and the tenth master, Guru Gobind Singh, who, as mentioned before, founded the Khalsa.

Although both have been my boyhood heroes, I tend to connect more personally with Guru Gobind Singh, firstly, because I revere him for having made the supreme sacrifice (like the fifth master, Guru Arjan Dev, and the ninth master, Guru Tegh Bahadur) for the cause of righteousness and having inspired thousands of others, including all four of his own sons, to do the same. He infused a sense of immense self-belief among his followers and was able to remove fear of every kind from their hearts, including that of death, which is a source of great inspiration for me. He declared:

"Sawaa laakh se ek laRaauN
MeiN chiRiyaan toN baaz banaauN
Tabhai Gobind Singh naam kahaauN..."

(This can be roughly translated as:
"I instill the confidence in each of my soldiers to be able to fight alone against even a hundred and twenty five thousand enemy combatants;
I make hawks out of sparrows;
Only then do I get to be called Gobind Singh...")

Secondly, I have had the good fortune, like many others, of course, of being afforded a good look at some of the articles of his personal use. These have included weapons of various kinds like swords, spears, guns and arrows (Tales of his skill with the bow and arrow abound, to this day.), besides clothes and other personal effects, displayed at numerous Gurdwaras in different parts of India, in addition to some exhibitions held on special occasions.

On a recent visit to the town of Mandi, in the state of Himachal Pradesh, when I visited a local Gurdwara along with my parents, I learnt that it had originally been built by a local ruler, at the invitation of one of whose ancestors the tenth master had spent six months as a guest of the royal family. Among the articles on display there, was a rebab that the Guru is said to have played himself, every evening, while reciting verses from Gurbaani. Besides that, there was a musket that Guru Saaheb used for target practice and, most interestingly, a charpoy and a mattress that were made especially for the tenth master's use, during his stay there. Most intrestingly, because it became clear after taking one look at it that the man who slept on it could not have been more than five and a half feet tall or perhaps even less than that.

At that moment, the admiration and respect that I have for the Guru increased manifold. The man with that medium-sized frame, who has been and always will be a spiritual guide to millions, was, evidently, an accomplished poet, author, linguist, musician and philosopher, as well as being a skilled horseman, swordsman, archer, marksman and military strategist.

Camel Crossing

2008-07-28T13:24:00.000+05:30

A Thought for Today

2008-07-22T16:51:00.003+05:30

'Power will go to the hands of rascals, rogues and freebooters. All Indian leaders will be of low calibre and men of straw. They will have sweet tongues and silly hearts. They will fight among themselves for power and India will be lost in political squabbles.'

- Sir Winston Churchill (1874 - 1965). He was the prime minister of the United Kingdom from 1940 to 1945, and again from 1951 to 1955.

Save the Hummer!

2008-07-16T17:55:00.000+05:30

The General Motors Corporation is considering the sale of its Hummer brand or shut down of production.

As I had written in a blog-post, earlier, the Hummer is, arguably, the best small general-purpose vehicle available to the civilian population of the world, in terms of off-road driving capabilities (even if it does not look quite as good as, say, the Jeep Wrangler). I am sure that there are many others like me, around the world, who would be saddened immensely, if the Hummer's production were to be shut down. The brand being sold off might offer some hope yet, but it is difficult to anticipate the kind of changes that a purchaser might want to bring about in the vehicle.

One can blame it all on the ever-increasing oil prices, I suppose. However, the prices of oil are expected to stabilise in the long-term and in the short- to the medium-terms, the attempts being made towards increasing fuel-efficiency of the Hummers as well as to run these on alternate fuels should have a positive impact on sales.

Buyers, especially in North America, have been known, in the past, to revert to purchasing Sport Utility/Four-Wheel Drive (4x4) vehicles, as soon as prices of fossil fuels start falling. Besides, not only has a new, all-aluminium engine (which is, obviously, much lighter and, therefore, a vehicle powered by it is likely to be more fuel-efficient than one powered by an engine made of cast-iron) been built for the Hummer H3, but I have also heard that a hybrid version of the Hummer i.e. one powered by a combination of an internal combustion engine and an electric motor that runs on batteries, is already on the drawing board.

Hummers that run on 'greener' fuels like Hydrogen and Bio-Diesel have already been widely reported about, especially because of some famous owners, like body building champion-turned-actor-turned-politician Arnold Schwarznegger, of such vehicles.

I sincerely hope that all these factors will help tilt the scales in the Hummer's favour and that production will not be shut down.

Of sleepers and coaches...

2008-07-11T19:26:00.002+05:30

These two appeared intent upon demonstrating that one does not require a 'coach', in order to be a 'sleeper'. The location was a travel agent's office at Goa.

Trip to Manikaran

2008-07-06T18:58:00.006+05:30

A few moons ago, my mother and I received an invitation from my father, to accompany him on one of his business tours, to the location of an upcoming hydro-electric power project in the state of Himachal Pradesh. The site lay somewhere between the towns of Mandi and Kullu and that was the chief reason for our acceptance. We hoped to go on to Kullu and then to the 'hill-station' town of Manali, where we could do a bit of sight-seeing, while my father finished his work.

So, a taxi was hired and we were off, by road, early one morning. We expected to reach Kullu by late evening. Little did we know, however, that a change of plan was in the offing. Some time after we started, I could sense a bout of gastroenteritis coming on and soon had to get the car stopped every few minutes in order to throw up some of the contents of my stomach. I suppose I vomitted, in several instalments, not only the contents of the previous evening's dinner, but also the previous day's lunch.

The disease being one that I have been highly prone to since my early days, I had the sense to keep up the liquid intake in order to prevent dehydration, which is among the leading causes of fatalities caused by it. That, though, also led the doctor, whom we consulted when we reached Mandi (where we had decided to stay for the night, instead of Kullu, because of my illness, and where my father expected that the chances of availability of suitable medical treatment were quite good), to believe that I was in better shape than I actually was. He sent me away after prescribing a few tablets that he told me to swallow at regular intervals. Later on, as the night progressed, I continued to feel worse and, ultimately, had to go to a nursing home, where I was administered an intra-venous injection that helped stabilise my condition.

The next day, I spent the morning and early afternoon lounging about in bed and watching television, in the hotel room, while my father went off to work and my mother browsed through the shops in the local market. After lunch, by when both my parents had returned, my mother proposed that we should at least visit the Gurdwara at Manikaran, even as a visit to Kullu or Manali was out of the question.

We set off at about 4:30 p.m. and I was not absolutely sure whether it was such a great idea, starting off so late. The sky was cloudy and we encountered intermittent spells of rain and shine en route. A little past half-way, the road narrowed down to such an extent that a vehicle coming from the opposite direction could hardly be passed without slowing down to a crawl. The car had to be driven very carefully also on account of the fact that on one side of the road was a sheer drop of several hundred feet, at times to a river flowing at the bottom of the valley, with the hill-side on the other. Almost all the other vehicles on the road appeared to be going downhill, as we drove uphill. We had to have all windows closed and the air-conditioner turned on, as the exhaust-fumes from buses and trucks (that often included unburnt diesel) caused me to feel nauseous otherwise, even though I continued to sip from a bottle of soft-drink to prevent the contents of my stomach, literally, from boiling over. The scenery all around was picturesque, however, and, despite everything, I managed to enjoy the view immensely, until darkness descended all around.

On the way, we passed the little township of Kasol, which appeared to be some sort of a base for trekking expeditions. I remember that I saw a banner that proclaimed the start of such an expedition organised by the Youth Hostels Association of India, which was to originate from there. I could also see that a number of the local shops stocked the kind of equipment and rations that trekkers might require. There were a lot of foreign tourists, as well, carrying ruck-sacks and the place was dotted with restaurants serving not only continental cuisine, besides Indian, but (and it came as quite a surprise to me) Israeli as well! Since there were a few mechanics running shop there, who claimed to specialise in the repair of motorcycles, I presume that Kasol might even be on a route frequented by motorcycle expeditions, though I am not sure if these are comprised mainly of pilgrims going on to Manikaran or those headed towards other destinations as well.

At Manikaran, we found the Gurdwara to be situated down in the valley, on a river-bank, and we had to leave the main road and drive along a short one that was a lot more winding and a lot narrower than the one we had been driving on thus far. We stayed there only for a rather short period of time. After a brief prayer, we went to have a look at the hot-spring within the premises, where the visitors often have a bath and vessels are lowered into the hot water to cook rice or to make tea or daal (lentil-soup). I found it quite amazing that even as a broad stream of cold water flowed just outside the premises, a bridge over which one had to cross to get to the Gurdwara, a spring of hot water was to be found inside. A Hindu temple dedicated to Lord Shiva was constructed near the spring a few years ago, we discovered, within the boundaries.

Unfortunately, the management of the Gurdwara was not up to the standards that one is used to in Gurdwaras in other parts of North India, which are managed by the SGPC. This one, I learnt, is still operated by a clique of mahants. We could not even get parshaad, as the mahants distribute it only for a few hours every day and the joRhaa-ghar, where one might deposit one's shoes, before washing one's hands and feet and entering the sanctum sanctorum, was also closed. The facilities for washing one's hands and feet were also not available right outside the sanctum sanctorum, as these should be.

The drive on our way back was largely eventless and it was close to midnight, when we returned to the hotel. The next morning, we drove back home.

Later on, I could not help thinking that had the state of Punjab not been trifurcated in 1966, every single place that we drove through or stopped by at, throughout the trip, would still have been a part of Punjab, except for the areas that lay within Delhi.

An 'I' for an eye

2008-07-01T01:09:00.002+05:30

The tag, this time, is about completing a series of statements about oneself. So, without much ado, as always, let us get down to business.

I am: a human being.

I think: , therefore, I am (though I do not own the copyright to that statement!).

I know: far less than I think I do, I am sure.

I want: just about enough to fulfil my basic needs as well as those of my motorcycle.

I have: a lot to thank the Almighty for!

I wish: for a lot of things, not all of which I can attain.

I hate: lies, deceit, manipulation, dishonesty, hypocrisy, corruption and nepotism.

I miss: my grandparents, all four of whom are no more, besides other family members and friends (of both the two-legged and four-legged varieties) who have gone on to the happy hunting grounds.

I fear: being forced by circumstances, more often than not created by manipulative people, to say or do something that I would not otherwise have said or done, being the fiercely independent person that I am or, at least, like to think that I am.

I feel: heat, cold, softness, hardness, sharpness, bluntness, etc., like any other person with a normal sense of touch.

I hear: all kinds of sounds that any one with a normal sense of hearing might hear.

I smell: all kinds of smells that any one with a normal sense of smell might recognise, besides a 'rat' or 'something fishy', at times.

I crave: not much for any thing or any one, any more!

I search: through Google, even as I know that I can not find all that I search for through it.

I wonder: whether the egg came before the chicken or vice versa.

I regret: not having been born in a royal family in a country with a constitutional monarchy (since it is difficult to locate one with an absolute monarchy these days!).

I love: leisure!

I ache: when I walk more than I usually do.

I care: a little more than I should, at times, perhaps.

I am not: a super-hero.

I believe: in a single, formless, indestructible, eternal Supreme Being i.e. WaheGuru, who is never born and never dies and is omnipotent and omnipresent and whom people that practise different religions address by different names.

I dance: only when dragged to the dance floor and make my escape as soon as I can.

I sing: only when there is no one within ear shot, although a lot of people have had to suffer my singing in the past, especially my mates at the hostel, while I was pursuing my post-graduate degree.

I cry: to wash away negative emotion from within myself, but only when no one is watching me, usually, except when it becomes impossible to hold back, like at my paternal grandfather's cremation (He was the only one among my grandparents at whose cremation I was present).

I do not always: do all that others expect of me.

I fight: when I have to.

"Jab aao ki aaodh nidhaan banay, att hi rann maiN tab joojh maroN"

(This can be roughly translated as, "When the limits of tolerance are crossed, I shall engage in battle and fight till the end.").

- Guru Gobind Singh

I write: using a computer's keyboard, mostly, nowadays.

I win: when I least expect to.

I lose: when I really want to win.

I never: garnish chocolate ice-cream with powdered chillies. Coming to think of it, I never do that with any other ice-cream flavour either.

I always: try to be as honest as I can, even at the cost of hitting others where it hurts.

I confuse: people's names sometimes. For instance, I have a hard time remembering whether a particular ghazal singer is named Peenaz Masani or Meenaz Pasani. I do remember, however, that she has an unruly shock of hair and that I do not appreciate her singing at all.

I listen: to music.

I can usually be found: on planet Earth.

I am scared: of doing anything that might trouble my conscience later.

I need: food, water, clothing, shelter and petrol (for my motorcycle, obviously!).

I am happy about: having all that the Almighty has blessed me with!

Another year...

2008-06-26T14:00:00.006+05:30

..., another anniversary.

Riders On The Storm

2008-06-19T13:05:00.002+05:30

A chameleon appears all set to operate the accelerator, while another looks ahead, as they ride my mother's rusty, old moped that lies disused in a corner of our backyard.

Surface Transport

2008-06-11T12:48:00.001+05:30

I was reminded of this on account of the recent increases in the prices of fossil fuels, to exorbitant levels. I had borrowed my brother's camera to shoot this, at Ooty, since mine does not have optical zoom.

Covert

2008-06-06T15:40:00.002+05:30

Over the past few days, I have been reading through the first issue of the news-magazine Covert, after I received a three-year subscription from my friend Siraj Wahab, as a gift. Siraj bhai, himself, has contributed a couple of pieces, which appear on page 51 of the maiden issue. One of these, as a matter of fact, has been published on his blog as well, in the form of the blog-post dated May 19, 2008.

The magazine, apparently, has been started by veteran journalist M. J. Akbar, who is listed as the Chairman and Director of Publications. The first thing that struck my mind, when I looked at it, was that it is a fortnightly, unlike most of its major competitors, which are weeklies. I wonder if that is likely to change at any point of time in the future, especially when advertising revenues increase. The advertisements in the first issue are limited to the inside of the front cover and on both sides of the back cover.

The USP or unique selling proposition of the magazine seems to be that it not only contains rather interesting columns written by veteran journalists and writers, but those by prominent persons from other walks of life as well. The columnists include M. J. Akbar, Kuldip Nayar, Yashwant Sinha, Seema Mustafa, Akhilesh Mithal, Saeed Naqvi, Teesta Setalvad, Brahma Chellaney, Suhel Seth, Arif Mohammed Khan, Pawan Khera, Farzana Versey, Khushwant Singh, Joginder Singh, Jaswant Singh and Prakash Karat. The magazine could very well have been named as The Columnist's Fortnightly, perhaps. It remains to be seen, however, whether all such columns are going to be a regular feature or that many are meant to be a part of the first few issues only. I, for one, would certainly hope for the former to be the case.

Apart from the columns, I found the contents to be rather lack-lustre. The cover story, which is about the illegally-acquired wealth of a politician, for instance, seems to have been based entirely on hear-say or interviews with opposing politicians, besides circumstantial evidence. The magazine appears to have no documentary evidence to back its claims, other than a copy of a public interest litigation that has been filed against the man, which can hardly be considered as such, since the matter is sub-judice. The allegations that have been made are probably genuine, as the public generally knows more about the ill-gotten wealth of politicians and bureaucrats than those who have the power to prosecute them for such misdemeanours, but are unlikely to stand in a court of law, unless some material evidence is available.

The rest of the contents are based largely on politics and on sports, to a lesser degree, in addition to entertainment, lifestyles and astrology. The politics-based content, though, is mainly in the form of commentary or a compilation of gossip, rather than objective reporting.

Above all else, I am not sure whether making the contents of all columns available for free on the magazine's website is a good idea, if the magazine is meant to remain in circulation over an extended period of time, unless, of course, the website is to have a revenue model of its own. If one can read all one's favourite columns online, there hardly remains any reason to subscribe to the magazine or to purchase a copy from the news-stand. I believe that some of the competing magazines allow access to online content only to those who have a valid subscription number.

Indiscipline amongst Sikh Sangat

2008-06-01T12:12:00.001+05:30

The Sikhs have fought and won numerous battles in past, often against heavy odds. This has been possible, I believe, not only on account of immense courage, but also a strong sense of self-discipline. Sadly, many of those who call themselves Sikhs, nowadays, seem to have given up the latter, along with their Kesh (unshorn hair and, in the case of men, beard as well).

The following photgraphs were taken at Keshgarh Sahib, a few days ago. The painted signs are meant to request members of the Sangat (congregation) to deposit their shoes at the designated place, from where they could collect these before leaving the premises, simply by returning a token issued against the shoes. The service is provided free of charge.

A Common Thread

2008-05-25T17:28:00.002+05:30

A book has been published recently, which presents its author's attempts to explore the thread of commonality that runs through Islamic and Sikh precepts.

The Figure of Eight

2008-05-15T15:40:00.000+05:30

This is the second one of the two tags that were pending. I would like to offer my sincerest apologies for the delay in doing this one.

Eight things I am passionate about:

1. Doing nothing.
2. Relaxing.
3. Watching movies. One fine day, when I sat down to list the titles of the movies that I have watched, I was able to write down about 200.
4. My motorcycle (12bhp, 135cc, single-cylinder, 2-stroke, 4-speed manual, kick-start). I bought it in 2001.
5. Animals (excluding humans). Love them and they love you back unconditionally. They bear disease, infirmity and suffering with the utmost grace and when death comes calling, they go along quietly. They behave more like true gentlemen or have more lady-like qualities than most humans seem to, nowadays.
6. Travel. I try not to miss any available opportunity to go to a place I have never been to.
7. Photography. I purchased my camera-phone only so that I can have a camera in my pocket, wherever I go.
8. Being a couch potato. My favourite television channels include BBC World News, NDTV 24x7, Star Movies, HBO, Discovery and Animal Planet, even as I spend a good deal of time channel-surfing, in general.

Eight things I want to do before I die:

1. Stay alive.
2. Stay alive.
3. Stay alive.
4. Stay alive.
5. Stay alive.
6. Stay alive.
7. Stay alive.
8. Stay alive.

Eight things I say often:

I do not have any pet-phrases, presently.

Eight books I have read recently:

I have not read any books recently.

Eight songs I could listen to over and over:

1. 'Vindicated' from the original sound track of the movie Spiderman.
2. 'Imagine' by John Lennon.
3. 'Man Who Sold the World' by Nirvana.
4. 'Mann Kunto Maula' in Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan's voice.
5. 'Allah hoo' in Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan's voice.
6. 'Shabad-kirtan' (recitation of verses from the Guru Granthh Saahib, with musical accompaniment), provided the Raagi-jathha follows the Raaga prescribed in the Guru Granthh Saahib, for the recitation of each of the verses.
7. 'Bulla Ki Jaana MeiN Kaun' in Rabbi Shergill's voice.
8. 'Dilli' by Rabbi Shergill.

Eight things that attract me to my friends:

The one who has tagged me has consulted her spouse, while filling in this section, whereas another blogging buddy she has tagged has asked her friends to provide inputs. Since I do not have a spouse or too many friends of the human kind, I decided to ask my animal friends and here is what they had to say.

1. Woof, woof
2. Woof, woof
3. Poof, poof
4. Poof, poof
5. Moo, moo
6. Moo, moo
7. Meow, meow
8. Meow, meow

His Highness

2008-05-06T12:40:00.002+05:30

May the tribe of nomads prosper!

2008-04-28T13:36:00.002+05:30

This tag is one of the two that are pending and I am attempting this one first only because the questions appear easier to answer than those in the other one.

Last movie seen in a theatre?

RV

What book are you reading?

None

Favourite board game?

Scrabble

Favourite Magazine(s):

Reader's Digest, India Today

Favourite Smells:

Lime, Cocoa

Favourite Sound:

The exhaust note of my motorcycle, guitar riffs accompanied by drums

Worst Feeling In The World:

The burning sensation that follows having found out that something I would never have wanted to happen has happened and when I can not seem to either laugh or cry.

What Is The First Thing You Think Of When You Wake Up?

Is it morning or is it afternoon?

Favourite Fast Food Place:

McDonald's and the most likely purchases there include Chicken McGrill, Cold Coffee, Vanilla ice-cream with hot chocolate sauce.

Future Child’s Name:

We shall cross that bridge when we come to it, if at all.

Finish This Statement. “If I Had A Lot Of Money I’d…”

...spend it on myself and on friends and family.

Do You Drive Fast?

Not really. I have never driven faster than 110 kilometres an hour, even on a national highway.

Do You Sleep With A Stuffed Animal?

Nope!

Storms-Cool Or Scary?

Any kind, as long as I am at a secure location.

Do You Eat The Stems On Broccoli?

I have never eaten Broccoli.

If You Could Dye Your Hair Any Colour, What Would Be Your Choice?

I am not sure if I would ever want to dye my hair.

Name All The Different Cities/Towns You Have Lived In.

Hardwar, Chandigarh, Indore, National Capital Region of India.

Favourite Sports To Watch:

I am not particular about watching any sport any more. While I am channel surfing, however, I am likely to stop if I come across a telecast of motor-sports of any kind or Football (Soccer) or Cricket.

One Nice Thing About The Person Who Sent This To You:

He writes very well.

What’s Under Your Bed?

There is nothing under my bed, but inside it are the quilts and blankets that are likely to stay there until next winter.

Would You Like To Be Born As Yourself Again?

Only if I am born with a large inheritance, the next time round, so that I never have to worry about making a living.

Morning Person Or Night Owl?

Night Owl

Over Easy Or Sunny Side Up?

Sunny Side Up, with a generous sprinkling of salt and pepper.

Favourite Place To Relax:

Any place with a couch and access to a few newspapers, magazines, a computer with an internet connection, besides a television with a cable-television connection that shows my favourite news-channels and the appropriate appliances for climate-control (which could actually be a ceiling fan or a room-heater, depending upon the weather conditions). A large window offering a nice view would be a bonus, of course.

Favourite Pie:

Apple pie.

Favourite Ice Cream Flavour:

Vanilla with hot chocolate sauce

Corn-cobs, anyone?

2008-04-17T13:03:00.002+05:30

These goats were lounging about on the foot-path besides one of the main streets in Ooty, until one decided to inspect the stock, when a corn-cob seller stepped away from her stall for a while.

Southwards bound: At Cochin

2008-04-10T23:06:00.001+05:30

After having enjoyed an interesting journey from Delhi to Goa, seen some marvellous specimens of architecture there, made some new friends and having enjoyed some of the sea and sand at Goa's beaches, we went on to Cochin. It was a little more than an overnight journey and we arrived there on a rainy afternoon.

Lunch, comprised of traditional South Indian fare including rice, daal (lentil soup), curd and pickle, was had at the Ernakulam railway station itself and then an auto-rickshaw was hired to take us and our luggage to a budget hotel. By the time we had checked in, relaxed for a while and freshened up, it was already evening and we decided to set out to explore the place.

The driver of the auto-rickshaw that we hired to go to the nearest point on the sea-shore turned out to be quite gregarious. He told us about the antipathy between the local people and migrants from the neighbouring state of Tamil Nadu, who are mainly engaged in unskilled and semi-skilled labour.

As we drove over a bridge across a channel to reach a man-made island created by the British from the materials dredged while deepening the port in 1935-39, where the headquarters of the Indian Navy's Southern Command are also located, we could see a couple of naval boats that had been painted completely grey to match the colour of the sea. Many other multi-coloured civilian craft bobbed up and down around them.

We saw several colonial-era buildings on the way, some of which, I believe, were occupied by the Indian Navy. The style of architecture certainly appeared somewhat different from that of those we had seen in Goa. That could have been because apart from the Portuguese, Cochin had been occupied by the Dutch as well as the British, during different periods of time in its history. We passed a museum, as well, but it was closed, either because it was well past its closing time or it was meant to remain closed on that particular day of the week.

At the sea-side, there was an elevated, paved path along the shore that was separated from the edge of the water by rocks and pebbles of all shapes and sizes. In the distance, we could see some ships at anchor. As we walked along, we came across several wooden platforms that were supported by wooden poles and extended well into the water. At the far edge of each of these, were fishing nets of a peculiar kind that had been mounted on large wooden frames.

A dog hopped, skipped and jumped over the rocks to find its way to a shiny little fish that lay dead on one. It is difficult to imagine whether it was already dead when the waves deposited it there or it died later as the tide receded or if being smashed against a boulder made it lose its life.

Soon, as it began to get dark, we returned to where the auto-rickshaw was parked and asked to be driven back to the hotel. The driver, however, had another idea and took us to the baazaar (market-place), where he knew of a shop that sold a huge variety of the most exotic of spices. My mother was obviously pleased to be there and made several purchases.

A gigantic structure that we saw while getting there, my father told us, was part of a ship-building facility. I also noticed that several of the buses plying on the roads did not have any glass window panes and had tarpaulins instead, which could be folded up to let in plenty of the breeze, in order to provide some relief from the hot and humid weather.

Finally, we bade farewell to the taxi driver and went for dinner at a restaurant near the hotel. We had biryaani and Kerala paraathha, a variant of the Punjabi paraathha that Keralites have devised.

Early the next morning, we left for Ooty.

Golden Oldie - II

2008-04-04T13:12:00.002+05:30

Here is another rare gem that I have been able to unearth, once again, with the help of Tasveerein on the B4U Movies channel on television.

Film: Funtoosh (1956)
Singer: Kishore Kumar
Music Director: S. D. Burman
Lyricist: Sahir Ludhianvi