Why This Kolaveri Di

"Why This Kolaveri Di is cacophonic enough make Cacofonix run for the woods.


Nothing is happening in India. There is this small issue of FDI and BJP tussle. Politicians are stalling the Parliament session. The 2G scam continues. Oh, Kingfisher is struggling to stay afloat. Apart from these tiny hiccups all is right in every part of India. And credit for such a pleasant weather goes to the singer of the Tanglish song Why This Kolaveri Di - Dhanush, who is also Rajnikant's son in law.

The worst wave to hit India since Macarena, Barbie Girl and Saturday Night, the song has simultaneously murdered two cultures - the English language and Indian cinema. That's not enough. The pathetic video to the song has become a Facebook viral, finding fans in Japan, Thailand and NRIs all over the place. Imagine your five-year old singing, "Yo boys I'm singing song. Soup song. Flop song... Why this Kolaveri di?... Distance la moon-u moon-u, moon-u color-u white-u, white background night-u night-u, night-u color-u black-u."

The ill-effects can already be felt and sadly, a fellow journalist is involved. Employed by one of India's most reputed papers, she had the courage to compare the song with Sukumar Ray's Abol Tabol and Lewis Caroll's Hunting of the Snark. She has, in fact, gone out of her way (and mind) to find meaning in the song. This is solid s*** maestro!"

This is taken from a column in The Statesman of today and I found it very interesting. A friend of mine introduced me to this song saying that this was the most brilliant song and it is just awesome (she can be pardoned as she is head-over-heels about Dhanush). I did not find the song brilliant in any way. The tune is quite nice and the best quality of the song is that it can be sung in tune even when one is drunk. Well, the previous statement will surely put my physical safety in jeopardy! I hope this is not the last post I write, but frenkly speaking, I did not get the song and still do not get it. The same friend tried to male me realise that the song had a meaning and that it was a bit chauvinist, but I still fail to see her point. But then, love is blind and lovers cannot see, and neither can she.

For A Few Pieces of Silver: The FDI Stunt

The Indian government has shown an absolute lack of understanding of the Indian economy. They seem to be living in their own world of dreams without any clue as to the reality. The Indian government has announced a 51% FDI (Foreign Direct Investment) in retail. The major retail outlets from all over the world are now going to flock into the Indian market. The so-called reason for such a stunt is that this move will create millions of jobs and reduce unemployment. Can anyone give me a lamer reason?

The world economy has been facing a large number of problems recently and has even undergone a major recession that has seem the collapse of many a company and a hike in unemployment. This was true for most countries but India was more or less cushioned against these upheavals. Our economy maintained a decent growth rate and the rise in unemployment was marginal. This was a result of our partial seclusion from the world economy. Thus, when international companies were collapsing due to their stupid policies, the Indian economy was stable as these companies did not have a major share in our economy. The economic troubles are not over yet and the short-sightedness of the international  companies promises an imminent recession that is going to have a far worse effect than the last one.

Opening the Indian market to these companies at this time only exposes the Indian economy and growth to the vagaries of decisions of nincompoop managers who think they know the working of the world economy. This is madness to say the least. Retail market expansion would also lead to food inflation as most of the agricultural produce would be under their control – giving them an opportunity to manipulate the price of food. And talking about employment, if the government had looked at the ground realities in India it would have realized its folly. Millions of people are engaged in retail marketing and make a living out of it. This market is very stable and caters to local needs which in turn lead to more employment at the local level. International retail companies would be destroying this fine economic balance and more people would be unemployed as compared to the number of people who get employed by these companies. I do not blame these companies as it is their job to tap newer markets and the Indian market is a diamond mine. But it was the job of the government to look into the economic welfare of its citizens. With the innumerable corruption charges and scams against the present government, I am inclined to believe that this move had nothing to do with economic considerations, apart from narrow selfish ones for those in power. They have sold us out for a few pieces of silver.

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Vampires Don't Die

Vampires do not die. That is what I learnt when I became a vampire in the late 1800s. I was very happy when I found out that I would be young forever as I would hate to be Tithonus. But then I was young and inexperienced and could not foresee my future in the 21^st Century.

The 21^st Century is a very different ball game altogether. Throughout the 20^th Century, we vampires had had fun. We are generally harmless as opposed to how we are portrayed in Hollywood movies. We only hunt for food and in that too we are very gentle. We will make you unconscious and drink only a part of your blood through small cuts. When you will wake up, which is generally a few hours later, all you will feel is a bit dizzy. We vampires were originally mere mortals but were converted into vampires through a process that is a trade secret.

I was a peasant boy from Italy only having turned 18 when I became a vampire. The times were great and our numbers strong. We roamed from country to country and even fought in the two World Wars. The wars are always a feast for us as men kill men and we get to drink the blood. No one seems to mind that. I have been to almost all the countries in the world, met numerous people and I know several languages. A century is a long time but it passes so quickly. I remember everything I did ever since I became a vampire, but I shall not bore you with that. Ah, they were good times….

But these days it is very difficult to make two ends meet. Even though we are vampires, we love people and we love to be in their company. Humans show so many emotions, eat so many different foods, drink so many different drinks and they have so many ingenuous ways to have fun. But we vampires began to shun their company almost overnight during the 1990s. This was the time when glasses and mirrors were used widely for construction. You must know that we have no reflection and so does everyone. As more and more places began to have buildings and houses with mirrors, it was becoming difficult for us to be with people lest our identity be revealed.

By the 21^st Century, it has become impossible for us to go out and meet people. We now stick to the back alleys. Now here we faced another problem. Get hold of a fellow who comes to the back alley and you could be sure that he takes drugs or drinks too much. Their blood is already poisoned. This we learnt to our dismay when a large number of us fell very sick after drinking this poisonous blood. Initially we did not know what was wrong. So we went ahead and made a scientist a vampire. We provided him with all the facilities necessary and after a year of research he came up with this reason. So now when we get a fellow in the back alley we have to ask him several questions about whether he or she takes drugs or drinks, check for needle marks, and mostly we find that their blood is poisoned. Many of us are very weak and sick due to the lack of blood. Lack of blood can even lead to our death. Many of my companions have died out of thirst and we are only a handful left to fend for ourselves.

Why do the youth of today take poisonous drugs, smoke and drink so much? Why can they not be like their ancestors who had so many other ways to enjoy themselves other than taking drugs? Why do they not play games? Why do they spend so much money on buying drugs and drinks when they can eat healthy food with that money and live longer? Why are they depriving us from our life blood?

We cannot grab hold of people and drink their blood because if people find out that we exist, they are going to burn us to death with no sympathy at all. Men can be merciless you know. The poisoned blood is also present in the countryside these days. Humans have become very inhuman. They no longer wage proper wars so that we can drink the blood. We follow the news minutely and whenever a war breaks out we run towards that location but even before we reach the war zone, the war is over. We got a lease of life when the USA attacked Afghanistan and Iraq, and we will support them if they want to wage another war with Iran or anyone. We need blood or else we shall perish.

Vampires do not die, but when they do not get blood for long, they die. Me and several others are at our death beds. Some are terminally sick after drinking poisoned blood. It is our humble request to mankind to become human once more. You have lost all your human instincts. You do not kill or slay anymore, you do not spill blood anymore. Look at your illustrious predecessors who ruled by the blade of his sword. Why do you not do the same? Become humans, wage wars, and save the life of this poor vampire.

Human Resource and India

I have been reading these books on human resource management for some time now. These books talk about the innate capacity of human beings to work and their desire to do something useful. I do not at all agree with most of these theories. These theories do not seem to apply in the Indian context, or rather, they do not support my own experience with employees and employers. I agree that I am not qualified enough to question these theories as I have never held a ‘real job’ and have always worked as a volunteer for NGOs, but I have friends and acquaintances who are employees in various corporate and government organizations. From what they have to say, these theories seem very baseless in the Indian context.

Three of my cousins and most of my friends work in software development companies and are located in various companies. I have known them for childhood and I know that they are not interested in making a mark in society. They want the money. They took the job as a job in a software company means greater social status, relatively more money and postings at metropolitan cities where they can party (basically get drunk). Some have taken up the job because they do not want to study anymore and others have taken up the job because everyone else was doing so. They do not like the job, they do not want to look for a new job and they do not want to do something different.

Here many will point out that this is because the organization is not giving them enough incentives to work sincerely. If that is the case, then why is the scenario the same in corporate houses that are known to be one of the best employers? Why is this the case in MNCs? Why is this the case even in public organizations?

I live in an industrial town. The main industry here is the steel plant and almost everyone around me works here. The employees are provided with subsidized living quarters, electricity and water, and are even given coupons for shopping. The pay is great and on top of that there are a number of bonuses and holiday packages throughout the year. The working hours are also not very taxing. This being the case, most people are not very happy with it. They crib and cry all the time about how bad their condition is and that they are being exploited by the management. There are uproars if the management asks them to work an extra hour. There were other industries in this town but they have all been closed down due to militant trade unionism. Now the employees have no jobs and many are poverty stricken.

How can you use Western ideas of Human Resource Management to the Indian scenario? Here people do not want to work at all but want to be paid more than they deserve. Here all people care about is money and social status. They do not care about the world at large. They do not follow the news and they do not want to make a difference. They just want to be rich and show off. India needs new theories of Human Resource Management keeping in mind the character of the people here and what motivates them. Western ideas need to be modified when applying to the Indian scenario.

Despicable!!!

Rahul Gandhi is called the Prince of the Congress Party. Politicians and party members alike kiss the ground he walks on. This fellow decides to address a rally in the village of Phulpur in UP. At this rally, a student from Allahabad University protested by carrying a black flag. The student was not shouting slogans, nor was he armed. He was standing there with the flag. Police and Rahul Gandhi’s aides were quick enough to attack him and beat him up mercilessly. Jitin Prasad, a politician and close aide of Rahul Gandhi, went ahead and kicked and beat the student severely along with police. Are we supposed to tolerate this? Is this democracy? And after all this, we still kiss the ground that these politicians walk on? The police could have arrested him or made the student leave the venue but instead they chose to beat him up mercilessly. Maybe he belonged to another political party but that is no civilized or democratic way of treating dissension or opposition. This issue will be hushed up very soon. The media will forget about it tomorrow and we shall go on worshiping these politicians. Are these people to decide our fate, who beat up people who have something different to say? This is despicable and there are no excuses.

The world at large calls India a democratic country but pray tell me where is the democracy? Corrupt politicians abound. Criminal cases against them are hushed up. They are reelected time and again. They always break their promises. They tolerate no opposition and even use force to subdue dissenting voices. We are scared of complaining against them for fear of our own physical safety. Where is the democracy in this? I once heard in a movie, “Peace is not the absence of violence, but it is the presence of justice”. I paraphrase it in this context, “Democracy is not the presence of innumerable political parties, but it is the presence of justice”.

Watch the video on YouTube at this link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xgpzpxbz9hI

The Endangered Sparrow

I was reading this article in the newspaper today about why the common sparrow was becoming so rare to come by these days and I was surprised how much I agreed with the finding and also by the fact that they had omitted looking into another dimension of the problem. The article stated several reasons for the decreasing numbers of sparrows in general and their absence from city life. One of the main reasons this article pointed out was the availability of food.

Sparrows survive on seeds and insects. The rampant use of pesticides has affected the availability of insects that the sparrows feed on. The use of engineered grass in a large scale in the cities has also led to the disappearance of local varieties of grass and its seeds on which the sparrows used to feast. The use of artificially modified food grains are also being seen as a reason for the depletion of the sparrow population. Ornithologists say that these modified food grains are acting as slow poison for the sparrows. In the context of the almost absence of sparrows in cities, ornithologists have blamed the modern architectural style. They argue that the best place for sparrows to make their nests is cool dark crevices that old large and open houses used to provide. The present structure of box shaped architecture provides inadequate locations for sparrows to make their nests. I more or less agree with all these findings as they seem logical and I have no means of verifying these findings. But I have been taken aback by the fact that everyone seems to have missed one important factor (at least I think it is important).

When I was very little, our backyard used to be filled with sparrows. There was a pomegranate tree in the back and sparrows used to make their nests on it. They were numerous. But by the year 2000, their numbers suddenly declined and now I rarely see them at all. When I go to the outskirts of the town, I see sparrows in abundance. This made me think a lot and I have come up with a theory. I have noticed that the sudden reduction in the number of sparrows in my neighbourhood coincided with the construction of a transmission tower for cellular services. The sudden disappearance of sparrows from other regions of my town, I found out, also coincided with the construction of similar towers in these regions. The sparrow population has moved back to the outskirts because there are no transmission towers there. I think that this is too much of a coincidence. The disappearance of the sparrow from city life has got to do, to a large extent, something with the spread of cellular services. The radio waves used by the cellular service seems to be affecting the sparrow which is forcing it to flee areas where these waves are strong.

Research has been going on for a long time about the effect of these radio waves on living tissues but no conclusive study has yet been published. If what I propose is true then it is time we looked into the matter more closely. Corporates will not be willing to agree to the fact that these waves have harmful effects on living tissues as such a finding will affect their business and they will be forced to spend more on finding alternative solutions. But it is time we broke out of this vicious circle of protecting a few at the cost of the rest. No one profits in such an arrangement for a long time. Dictatorship needs to be replaced by democracy.

Weddings and Food

I live in a small town in the state of West Bengal in India. Here things are done very differently from that in a metropolitan city like Calcutta. One such difference I would like to talk about – weddings. Weddings in small towns and in the rural areas are very different from those that are held in Calcutta.

A marriage in a small town is a very familial issue and is held dear by everyone around. Neighbours voluntarily take part in the rituals and the celebrations and they take it upon themselves to make the wedding a success. But sometimes this over-enthusiasm gets too unbearable for people who are not used to such an environment. I love the whole wedding ceremony but I hate the part where guests are supposed to eat. That, my dear friends, is a nightmare in itself.

In almost all small town and rural weddings, the buffet system is frowned upon and deemed too impersonal. Guests are expected to be seated and served their meal. In many cases family members taken upon themselves the charge of serving the guests and in other times caterers are hired to do the job. A temporary construction of bamboo and fancy cloth is erected to serve as the dinning space. This construction, called the pandal in the local parlance, can be of varied size and shape and design to reflect the wealth and status of the family. In general, the dining space can accommodate 30 to 40 people in one batch. So obviously when 300 or 400 guests are invited for a wedding, arrangement is made to serve 8 to 10 batches of 40 people. I guess you can imagine the scenario that I am about to describe.

The whole wedding area is divided into two sections – the area where the wedding takes place and the dinning area. The crowd invariable gets concentrated near the dining area. Everyone wants to eat as early as possible. When the dining area is opened for the first batch, a cry goes around that informs everyone that the ordeal has begun. Every guest in the wedding then starts slowly to drift towards the dinning space. Soon the area outside the dinning space becomes claustrophobic. People keep peeping in to see how far the previous batch has proceeded with their meal. The moment they realize that people are starting to come out there ensues a rush. People, irrespective of their religion, gender, social status, profession, start pushing and shoving their way inside the dinning space to get a table for themselves and their family and friend.

Now, if you are having your meal inside and it so happens that you are either a slow eater or love to have a lot, there will be quite a few people who would finish their meal before you do and their exit will trigger off the mad rush to get inside the dining hall. People start filling the area very rapidly and soon you are surrounded by people. Some stand behind you and some stand in front of you, staring at you and your platter with hungry eyes, waiting to grab the seat as soon as you get up. It is impossible to enjoy a good dessert when is in such a situation. Obviously you are forced by decency to finish your meal in a haste and leave the seat to be occupied by the strongest or the cleverest. These people sit down at the table as soon as you leave, even when the leftovers are still on the table and are yet to be cleaned. It is quite disgusting for certain people, including me, to be a part of such a situation. Not many people seem to mind this arrangement though. They say this is tradition. Words are very insufficient to describe the situation that I have dared to portray. I welcome you to attend such a wedding yourself and experience it yourself. I can guarantee that it would be an experience of a lifetime.

Being Fat

I am fat. I am not very proud of that fact. The fat has increased my waistline by 4 inches and my backside. Everyone in my family teases me by saying that I have a backside side a woman. I am trying my best to reduce the fat but in reality I am not trying hard enough. I have cut down on my food intake. I am having just 4 chapatis for dinner whereas I can have 12. I have very little rice for lunch. But dieting has never done anyone any good. What I need to do is exercise. I try to exercise regularly but end up skipping it as something more interesting seems to be cropping up all the time. My sister is supposed to be getting married next month and I am really scared as I do not want to look fat. But there is no time left to do anything about that.

Dieting is not for me. My parents will allow me to have food only three to four times a day and really get furious if they see me eating at odd times. I am eating one third the amount I used to devour and this makes me feel hungry throughout the day. All I can think of the whole day is food! I even dream of food! I do not feel like exercising these days as I have laid my hands on some wonderful books that I want to finish reading before I have to return them.

So – I am fat, I do not want to exercise, I cannot diet, and I want to be slim! Well, that is asking a bit too much I guess. There is nothing wrong being fat except for the fact that I have a tough time stooping down and tying my shoe laces while standing up. Also, everyone makes fun of me as I have always been very thin and because I love to eat. I really do not know what people do in such a situation. Some of my friends are fat, but they have always been fat and they do not complain. They love to eat and no one teases them. But me becoming fat all of a sudden has encouraged people to take potshots at me. But I am trying to reduce the amount of fat around my midriff and it is really an uphill task. One day I will succeed.

Taking The GRE

I have already taken the GRE, the revised GRE. When I was planning to take it and even now, I hear various myths that shroud the GRE and make people panic for no rhyme or reason. When I was planning to sit for the revised GRE all my friends and acquaintances tried their level best to make me take the old GRE. I have already taken the old GRE once but did not fare well as I had fallen seriously ill on the day of the exam. The reason they wanted me to sit for the old GRE again was that I had already taken the test once and knew the pattern, also, there was a huge surplus of guide books and test papers and what not to help me crack it. But I did not listen to them.

I have taken the old GRE once and I know the exam well. It is or was a test of how well you can memorize a set of word-lists, the meanings and antonyms of the words. It was not at all a test of one’s knowledge in English. Also, the words that one had to memorize were mostly of no use. I am sure no one has ever again used or come across half those words after taking their GRE. Only people who can memorize very well can do well in that sort of arena. I am not one of those.

I chose to take the revised GRE for various reasons. The most important reason was that it was absolutely new and no guides were yet available. This gave me an equal advantage with others who were taking the test and this uncertainty was very challenging and exciting. The second important reason was that the verbal section of the revised GRE was completely new and far more difficult. Thankfully it does not require one to memorize word-lists and actually tests one’s knowledge of English. You can crack this section only if you really know English. No crack courses can help you score well in this section. The fill-in-the-blanks required not only the knowledge of what the options meant but also the knowledge of how a sentence is created and how English is written. No amount of memorization can help you in this. Another reason for me taking the revised GRE was the 50% off on the cost of the exam that ETS was offering. I did not have enough money at the time to pay for another GRE.

But even though the GRE has changed, people’s attitude towards it has not changed. I was looking at a website yesterday and saw the review of books that offer guidance for the revised GRE. I was very astounded to find that the reason Barron’s guide was ranked lower than the one by Princeton Review was that Barron had no new word-list for the revised GRE! I mean, why do you need a ‘new’ word-list? Isn’t English and a knowledge of its words the same? I have miserably failed to find the need to learn newer words for a newer exam. Knowing the vocabulary helps a lot but selective learning like this is just chasing the wind. Either you know or you don’t.

The results for the revised GRE are not out yet and I do not know how I have fared in the verbal. Maybe I have done worse than the last time, but given another opportunity, I would rather take the revised GRE than the old one. All my friends had rushed to take the old GRE as it was changing from August of this year because they were scared of the unknown, scared of doing something without a guide. They have done quite well in the GRE and will surely get through good universities. Me – I am happy being myself as I know exactly what I am capable of and I do not need an exam to make me realize that. I love challenges and I love to prove others wrong when I am certain that what I am doing is right. The revised GRE gave me just that challenge but I am yet to prove that the fear of others that taking the revised GRE will only result in a poor score is groundless. People are so scared to walk the path less travelled.

The Goose That Lays Golden Eggs

Today I am sad. I have been very saddened by a news I heard today. It’s about my school, my first school, where I have studied for 11 years of my life. It has always been a practice there to show parents the answer scripts of their child for the annual examination and in any other examination the answer scripts of those who have failed used to be shown. My parents were never very interested in looking at my answer script, even though they are teachers themselves, and trusted in whatever the teachers had to say about me and my work. Well, I cannot complain because if my father had looked at the answer scripts he would have killed me for the awful handwriting. My mother did go to have a look at my answer scripts, but that was only a few times. The practice has continued till date and nowadays, due to pressure from the parents, the answer scripts of all the exams are shown to them.

I heard this from my mother today. She had met a teacher of mine from school and heard it from her. My school now shows answer scripts, but has also been forced to bring out a circular that prohibits parents from carrying pen, pencil or eraser when scrutinizing the answer scripts! Why does the school have to state this in writing?! This is because some parents are covertly correcting minor mistakes that their child has done and then confronting the teachers, accusing them of carelessness! I used the word ‘scrutinizing’ because this is what the parents do these days. They are least interested in why their child did not do well or how the child’s performance can be bettered; rather, they are interested in pointing out the teachers’ mistakes and accusing them for the bad performance of their child.

I agree that sometimes teachers make mistake while correcting copies and some take their duty very casually. These teachers should be taken to task for their insincerity. But the worst thing is that parents are using this vulnerable point to attack them, and are so ready to use deceit. The fact that the school had to issue such a circular is evidence enough that this is not a rare occurrence but is becoming rampant. I fail to understand why parents are stooping so low? Are they ashamed of their children? Ashamed of their childrens’ performance? Too busy to find out what is wrong with their children? Too busy to even look after their children? Are they so selfish that they do not care about what is good for their children? Or are they confused about what is good for their children?

Children and their marks and ranks in examinations have become a symbol of social status. Parents shun other parents whose academic performance is not as good as their child’s, and are very eager to join the social circle of parents whose children are doing better than their’s. Children have become just another commodity that you possess to increase your social status. Children are no longer being governed properly by their parents and are immensely pampered. They get what they want, they do what they want, and the parents have no problem as long as he or she fetches marks.

This is what saddens me today – the realization that children are no longer adored for being children. They are just being treated as a commodity – the goose that lays golden eggs.

The Intrigue

Let me tell you a story. This is a story of intrigue, a story of betrayal, a story of reconciliation. This is the story of my very close friend. I cannot divulge his name as many of you who may read this might just know him, but for the sake of narrating this story I shall call him Jack. Jack! Why did I even think of that name? This is a very common name and I do not like to give common names to the protagonists of my stories. Jack is the nickname for a person whose official name is John, but then why not call him John! Both are four letters and in that way two new names can be formed. Calling John, Jack, serves no purpose at all. I mean, John is a very nice name and so is Jack, so why waste two beautiful names on one person? This really makes no sense to us Indians who have millions of names to choose from and some parents even come up with new names by combining two old names!

I apologize for diverging from my story. So, I have this friend Jack… but wait! If I narrate the story as it is and keep the names of the places then some of you might just find out who Jack is and that will be very embarrassing for him and for me. This means that I will have to start over once again.

Let me tell you a story. This is a story of intrigue, a story of betrayal, a story of reconciliation. This is the story of my very close friend, Jack. His parents had shifted to the small town of Campamento…

I think I have heard that name before… it sounds like the name of an actual city… let me check the atlas…

THAT is a real place! Campamento is the name of a place in Honduras. Let me think of a new name for the town my friend Jack shifted to and where the action happens…

Let us call the place Tulun… Well, even this seems to be the name of a place in Russia!

Let’s call the place Quanzhou… and this is a real place in China!

Humpolec! Now that is a unique name for a place to stage such a powerful story! ….and even this is a real place in Czech Republic!

I give up! This is impossible! I never realized that it was so difficult to narrate a story with fictional names and places. How does the author of the Lord of The Rings or Eragon come up with those names?!?! I cannot even come up with a fictional place and they come up with new languages! I am a pathetic story-teller. I think it is time I gave up.

Quantification

I really fial to understand this concept of ranking women by beauty. It just does not make sense to me. Beauty seems to be defined by skimpy clothes, struts and pouts. Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder. So how come we rank them. The oddest thing is, it is those women who have become celebrities who are being ranked as the most beautiful women in the world! These women form just a fraction of the whole world population of women. There are so many pretty women out there who do not have to wear make-up or undergo surgery to look beautiful. I have met stunningly beautiful women in metros and buses who can easily outshine these celebrities. I realize that it is very difficult to rank everyone and so the celebrities are chosen, but then why this craze to rank women. It is also true for men, who are being ranked according to Most Handsome, Most Desirable, etc.. This is just a personification of the society’s urge to comodify everything around them so that they can talk in numbers. We seem to have lost the ability to analyse anything that is qualitative, and thus this urge to quantify everything. I was reading about some sociological and psychological experiments that are being carried out and I have come to know that psychologists have a table to rate social events that may affect a person in a negative way, for example, divorce carries say 4 points while the death of your father carries say 6 points. It is a scale of 10 with increasing emotional trauma. This just does not make sense at all. I know people who have been more emotionally affected by the death of their dog than the death of their father.

I see around me a massive effort to quantify everything – starting from business to emotion. Scholars are devoting their entire lives to bring out a formula to calculate how much I am happy when I see the colour blue. The space for emotions is slowly being eroded as it is far simpler to believe in numbers than in the abstract. Where is the difference between us humans and a robot? Their actions and emotions can be quantified and we are trying our level best to achieve that. I think it is just a big waste of humanity.

Science Trauma

Both my parents teach science at the secondary and college level. Ever since I was young, I was very interested in their books as they had a lot of diagrams. I had my mother order test tubes and beakers for me and my father bought me batteries, wires, switches, and sometimes brought home a voltmeter or ammeter. These things fascinate me even now and I am quite good at making simple circuits, and science in general. I had planned to go into applied science ever since I was in the 5th grade. This plan was somewhat dampened after my health failed in the 8th grade, but still I had my heart bent on studying science after school. But an incident in the 10th grade made me despise the way science is taught here.

It was a Physics laboratory in the 10th grade. It was a Saturday. I had been given an experiment on optics – to find the focal length of a lens. I am very diligent with experiments and as usual I did the whole experiment with great care. I took the observations minutely and carfully jotted them down. It was perfect and I was very proud of myself. I went ahead to show my results to my teacher.

When my turn came, he looked at my copy and frowned. What he proceeded to tell me, or accuse me of, mortified me. He accused me of cheating because my observations were “too perfect”. He concluded that such observations had to be a work of plagiarism from a book. He admonished me for such an act and ordered me to start the experiment all over again. I sulkily went back to my table, erased the observations and tinkered with the results to give it an imperfect look. After that I sat down and chatted with my classmated for some time. I did not touch the experiment at all. I went over to my teacher with this work of fiction and he seemed to be quite proud of me.

After that I never took experiment very seriously. I did my experiments diligently but when it came to writing reports – well, that was just a work of fiction. It was after this incident that I decided that I could not study applied science under such circumstances. So after school, I just took up a subject I liked as much as science – History. I still love science and toying with circuits and gadgets, and I know a little bit of concepts too. Maybe, given the right opportunity, I would like to study applied sciences again.

The Maoist Boogie

There has been a lot of hue and cry over the Maoist problem in Junglemahal in West Bengal, India. The Communist government of Bengal went ahead and deployed paramilitary forces to contain the armed Maoist threat. Accusations flew like the wind. The Maoist accused the Communist government of oppressing the people of the region and stalling development in that region. They took up arms and murdered Communist cadres and started a guerrilla warfare with the armed forces. They also accused the police and the armed forces of heinous atrocities against the people of the villages. The government accused the Communist of revolting against the state and forcing the local village folk to join their ranks at gun point. The new government offers to bring peace to the region through developmental projects and holding peace talks. But the Maoists have threatened to resume their armed struggle unless the armed forces are withdrawn.

I am no analyst or intellectual. I am just a student of History and what I see I do not like. It is a fact that the region of Junglemahal has been neglected by the state for far too long. It is a fact that the armed forces stationed there by the state have committed heinous human rights violation. The rest is all shrouded in mystery. I have always loved History and have been studying History ever since I was a child. What I have come to realize over these years of studying History is that Indians in general, are averse to armed struggle and revolution. They have to be led. They cannot organize a protest by themselves. The only time they have joined hands unanimously is during occasions when their physical existence has come under threat, like the Santhal Rebellion. In such cases, the people of the whole region take up arms and not a single person remain in the region who do not support it. In all other cases, the people have been led, and many have stayed aloof. In most of these cases, the few who have been at the head of the movement had a personal motive behind the struggle. The Maoist scenario looks like a struggle led by a few, for a few.

It is true that the Maoists have a large support base, but there is a large majority who do not support an armed struggle. How do I know this? Well, because many people of the region have come up asking for assistance and jobs from the government – the Maoists proclaimed enemy. I do not care about the accusations as they easily may be propaganda. I only believe in those that are supported by evidence, and I believe that the Maoists do not have the support of a large number of people in the region. This can only mean one thing – the Maoist cause is led by only a few with their own goals of coming to power. And why is it that when the government is offering to bring about social development projects in the region, the Maoists are opposing it? Simple. Bringing about social development will take away whatever base they have now as people are too eager to give up war. They do not like war.

I do not trust the Maoists at all and I do not have faith in the government either. Both are looking for their personal welfare at the expense of the people. I suggest that the paramilitary forces are reduced in number but a sufficient number should stay back to counter any attempts by the Maoists to take over the villages in the region by force. The government, on the other hand, should start development projects on a war footing. I know that the finances of the state are too low for an extensive project but at least some projects need to be undertaken on an emergency basis. The more the issue is delayed, the more confused people get and very soon they will forget what started the controversy in the first place. We need to act, and act fast.

Child Labour

India has banned child labour and declared it punishable by law. The Indian intelligentsia has hailed it as a victory of morality and it has been used to showcase the human side of the corrupt politicians. It does not come as a surprise to me that this ban has been rampantly flouted everywhere.

The first thing we need to ask is who are these legislations made for and what are their purpose? If the ban on child labour was implemented to safeguard the child, then the legislation absolutely failed in its mission even before it failed in practice. The legislation provides no solution to the problem of child labour or the exploitation of children. The legislation attempts to remove the child from labour without going into the realities that bind these children to exploitation in India. Let us look at the realities that have so easily been shoved aside while formulating the legislation.

In India, slums are a part and parcel of urban life, and these slums teem with people of all ages. Families who live in these slums beget themselves large families, even while they do not have the means to feed them. The reasoning behind this is that more the children, more the working hands, and more the chances of earning money. So the urge to get children into the labour market from a tender age starts from the family. Parents refuse to send their children to school, mainly because free schools are rare and the education there serves no purpose and the parents know it. When I was associated with the SSL and trying to get street children to attend evening classes for an hour every day, many of the parents refused to send their children because they felt their children will be able to earn more if they work for that hour than study.

Banning child labour at this stage is not the solution. The question that we need to ask ourselves is how can we keep the children out of the labour market? One way is to provide alternatives to labour keeping in mind the concern of the parents. There should be schools where these children can be sent and where they can also be fed. This will at least convince the parents to send their children to school, where their children will have an opportunity for a meal. At the same time, legislation needs to be passed that enforces equal pay for children at the rate at which an adult is paid. If this law is stringently enforced, employers will refrain from employing children, except in the tea and tobacco industry. Both these combined will result in the lowering of the number of child labourers. The government might view this as an expensive proposition as immense amounts would have to be spent on building schools, employing teachers and providing food. But this is only for one generation. When this generation grows up, they will be educated enough to control the size of their family and the pressure on the government will be lowered.

But rest assured nothing of this sort is ever going to happen in India. The population is enormous and everyone is trying to better their condition by any and every means. This compounds the problem of corruption. The politicians will refrain from making this a success as their electoral success depends heavily on the continuation of poverty and illiteracy and inefficiency. They will never make it a success. All that the children will receive are hollow legislations and insincere promises.

Banning The Bands

Bands are now everywhere, and here when I talk about bands I mean the rock bands. The infestation of the bands has turned into a plague. Go to any town or city, nay any village even, and you are sure to find a band even though there may not be a school. What are these bands? Where do they come from? What do they do? Well, these are the questions that haunted me after a series of auditory torture at the hand of bands!

I grew up to the music of bands like The Beatles and The Carpenters and I had a lot of respect for them. When I was about to enter college, band music entered Bengali culture through bands like Bhumi and Chandrabindoo. There music was refreshingly new with a touch of Bengali folk music. But before I came to college I had never been to a live band performance. The first bands I heard in college were Indian Ocean and Mother Jane. It was a wonderful experience and I simply loved it. But that was it! That was the last time I wanted to hear a band play!

My experience with bands after that has been very traumatic. I have been forced to attend live band performances where high pitched cacophony is regarded as music, with a sprinkling of bad lyrics and worse voice. I have also been forced to tolerate live band performances that lack melody, lyrics or music, being hailed through the Public Address System! I have had enough but no one else seems to mind. So I decided to study the various bands active in my town and in Calcutta and Delhi. I must admit that the whole experience was a test of my sanity and sensibility and also a test of my temper. I have come across only 3 bands out of about 25 who can perform decently.

Most of the bands start at school. Students who think they are ‘cool’ and whose parents can afford an electric guitar or drum set and amplifiers are the ones who start a band. It is mostly a three or four member band and the lead singer is always the leader of the band and is the ‘coolest’ of the lot. The knowledge of music or any talent whatsoever is unnecessary as long as one has the money to buy the gadgets or is ‘cool’. Since not many have the money to buy these instruments, each school has one or two bands, and the band members regard themselves as elites. They have a place to jam, where they let their animal instinct loose and the result is apocalyptic noise.

These bands perform at school by playing songs of hit bands, and in the absence of any competition, they are hailed as awesome and talented. By the time the band members reach college, their ego has been bloated up to the size of the universe, and they regard themselves as authorities on music, fashion, coolness and women. They have this weird accent copied from some rockstar which they impose on others. They start keeping shabby long hair, and strange and dirty looking beards, dressing up in clothes that are either too small or too big for their size. They stop hanging out with guys and start hanging out with girls, and you are sure to find a gang of girls swooning over them. These bands start performing more regularly and even go for competitions. They now sing their own songs that are unpalatable. To hide the harsh voice and the bad lyrics, they resort to playing death metal and metal rock and other such genres where the electric guitar and drum drowns the voice and lyrics. But even then it is a torture.

In my town, bands are now playing at all occasions, even the pujas. The puja held near my house had a band night this time and the performance was broadcast over the PAS. The band had no tune or melody, and sitting in my house I felt a strong urge to borrow some money, buy some rotten eggs, go over to the event and throw the eggs at the band members. Thankfully my sanity prevailed.

But seriously; does no one mind what goes as music these days? Do we have to tolerate whatever is served to us in the name of music, consoling ourselves by saying that we do not have the money to hire better bands? Should we even allow anyone and everyone to perform in public? Do we not have a law against noise pollution? People have every right to form bands and jam but why can they not play melodious music, if not lyrics? Why can the band members not understand that they are singing rubbish and improve themselves? I guess the answer to most of these questions lie in the fact that people who form these bands is not driven by the love for music but by the urge to be popular and get girls.

I do not know about you, but I hate these bands and their music.

Poems from Arabian Nights

Stint thy blame man! 'Twill drive to a passion without bound;
My fault is not so heavy as fault in it hast found.
If true lover I become, then to me there cometh not
Save what happened unto many in the by-gone stound.
For wonderful is he and right worthy of our praise
Who from whiles of female wits kept him safe and kept him sound.

- Arabian Nights, pp: 13

Art and the Pujas

The Pujo is here! Goddess Durga has come down to Earth with her two daughters and two sons and it is a time for rejoicing, but she will soon be gone, back to her abode at Mount Kailash. And there will start another wait till she comes again next year.

People all over Bengal do their utmost to make Her stay on Earth as pleasurable as possible by building pandals and idols of exquisite form and beauty. The idols and pandals are a work of art - art that is as temporal as Her stay. And that I feel is tragic.

Artists, sculptors, architects and designers get together and toil for months to create monuments with bamboo, cloth, straw, cardboard, thermocol and other items of temporal construction (even buiscuits and candy!) that are built to the model of temples, churches, mosques, historic buildings and even ships. The effort that goes into the construction of these aweinspiring pandals is gargantuan in proportion and deserves all the praise.

The idols are also works of art, examples of exquisite sculptures. They come in various sizes and shapes. Sometimes all five members of Goddess Durga's family are put together and sometimes they are paired and at other times they are created individually. They are adorned with intricately designed ornaments and dresses that would put any emperor to shame. The idols are made mostly of clay, but sculptors also create idols from straw, from wood-shavings, from paper, from chalk, and from other materials.

The sad part of this is the end - these works of art last only for the duration of the pujas, after which they are dismantled or sold off in pieces. It does not feel right that these works of art should stop existing so soon and so easily. We need some way of preserving them, but their size and their number are too daunting for any conservationist programme. It is almost impossible to preserve them. It is very difficult to preserve pandals that replicate the Ajanta Caves or the Taj Mahal or the White House, and are at least 20 feet tall and covers the area of a football field. Where do you keep such pandals, how does one preserve them? But I think if we try a little harder, we might be able to preserve the idols. They do not take up so much space as the pandals, but even then we would require a huge space for preserving them as thousands are created every year but only a hundred can be regarded as works of art.

I hope that the pujas bring joy to everyone and everyone enjoys themselves as I will, but at the same time I wish I could do something to preserve these works of art. Anyone has any ideas?

Nights on trains

Have you ever travelled in an AC compartment in a train? Have you ever walked across the aisle from one end of the compartment to the other in the middle of the night? If you have, you will understand what I am talking about. The AC compartment at night is very eerie feel to it if you have an active imagination.

People in an AC compartment tend to fall asleep very early, most probably to enjoy their sleep in that cool environment. Every passenger is supplied with their own set of bedding – two white bedsheets, a blanket, a thin pillow, and a hand towel. Almost everyone makes good use of these. As the hands of the clock cross nine o’clock, one by one the passengers start getting ready for bed. The middle berth is pulled up, people jostle to make way for the person trying to make his or her bed, good Samaritans help others make their bed, some line up near the bathrooms to wash or brush, and one after the other the lights begin to get switched off. Voices die down and the whole compartment is silent and almost dark within two hours.

If you wake up in the middle of the night, all you will hear is the rumble of the train. You will the slight swaying and, for the first time, you will be conscious of the bluish atmosphere inside the compartment. With your eyes attuned to the dark, the faint blue glow from the night bulbs seem all pervading. The bluish hue takes on a deathly feel as its effect is exacerbated by the powerful silence. For a weak hearted person, just registering this atmosphere is sufficient to make the hair at the back of his or her neck stand on end. But it does not end here – the eerie feeling I mean. This is just the backdrop.

With the atmosphere all set for a murder mystery, take a walk from one end of the compartment to the other. The only thing you notice during this walk is bodies covered with white cloth lying around throughout the compartment. These white figures lie motionless, only the ends of the cloth moving with the breeze or with the sway of the train. This, my dear friends, is very scary if you have an active imagination and if you have been brought up on horror stories and murder mysteries. Even today it gives me the gooseflesh to walk across the AC compartment in the middle of the night. But do not get caught up in the moment as you will be scared to the bone when this overpowering silence is broken by a moan or a creak or when a white figure suddenly stirs. One of my friends almost screamed when she heard a moan in the middle of the night.

But if you can neglect this minor discomfort, train travel in an AC compartment is quite pleasant. The climate inside the compartment is much pleasanter than outside and this makes me sleep like a log – and I love to sleep.

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Playing With Fire

It was raining hard as I drove slowly down the road heading for the Cafe. It was almost 8 at night and it had been raining for the past two hours. Traffic was sparce and hardly any pedestrians were to be seen. As I drove slowly down I remembered a similar evening. It was almost a year and a half now.

I had been married for almost two years to a girl I had been dating for a few months. My wife is pretty and smart and it was her smile that I fell in love with when I met her. Our marriage was going smoothly and none of us wanted any kids till a few years later. She had a job, I had mine. But somehow, after a few months of marriage, the chemistry between us was not working. We were becoming too involved with our own individual existence. But we rarely quarrelled and had our own sweet moments.

It was at such a juncture that I met Rebecca. She worked in the office right across mine. She was a marketing executive. We met at the local coffee shop during lunch break and hit it instantly. She had a tantalizing charm and I was my chivalrous best. Soon the meetings at the coffee shop became a regular affair. I did not turn up one day and she called me up on my cell phone to know whether I was fine. It was a great friendship and slowly it became more than that – much more than that. She became my passion, my obsession. We exchanged sms and often called each other up secretly.

I became a changed man. I was enthusiastic to go to my office for the first time in my life, spent lesser and lesser time at home, the dinners became more silent and I slept well. I began to spend time with Rebecca after work, calling up my wife to say that I had some work and would be late. Rebecca was unmarried and did not mind the fact that I was. We got drunk and things proceeded to the ultimate level. But this was to become a ritual.

But the ease with which I had got involved in the relationship with Rebecca was slowly passing. We were two months in the relationship and I was a feeling very slightly guilty about cheating on my wife. Not that I cared about her too much, now that Rebecca had completely charmed me.

It was my wife’s birthday the next day and Rebecca had also asked me to come over on the same day because she wanted to celebrate her promotion. She promised me a great time and I was looking forward to it. I had got her a necklace and was dying to see it on her neck. My wife had other plans though. She wanted to throw a small party for our close friends at 9 in the evening and Rebecca had asked me to come over at 7. Now, who is going to go to a birthday party? I told my wife that I had some work at the office that I had to finish that night and so would be late but I shall surely do my best to come home early for the celebrations.

Office got over at around 6:30 and it was a 40 minutes drive to Rebecca’s place. It was raining heavily, like it is now, and it was darker than usual. I had to drive slowly in the downpour and as I reached the main road the engine gave a grinding sound and stopped. I checked my fuel meter but it did not indicate any problem. I tried starting the car but it was no use. I got out in the pouring rain and opened the hood to check what was wrong. Smoke was coming out of the engine and there was the smell of burnt rubber and metal. I realised that it was not something I could fix by myself.

It was 7:30 already and I decided to call up Rebecca and say that I would be late, but that was not to be. I had kept my phone in my pocket and the rain water had ruined it. I was now stuck. There were no phone booths in sight and none of the cabs that passed me were empty. I could not even call the garage. I was soaking wet by now and did not want to get into the car as it would ruin the new seat covers that I had installed. I stood there outside my car trying to figure out my next plan of action – how do I reach Rebecca’s place or inform her.

A car screeched to a halt a few meters ahead of me and them reversed to where I was standing. The window rolled down to reveal a friend. He offered to give me a ride – home! He did not even ask me whether I wanted to go home and I refrained from speaking my mind.

Drenched to my bone, I reached my home at around quarter to nine. My wife was clearly very pleased to see me. She looked at the packet under my arm and asked, “Is that my gift?”
I fumbled and handed the packet over to her. I did not know what else to do. I was not prepared to meet my wife. She opened the packet and found the necklace that I had planned to give Rebecca.
Her joy knew no bound. This was the first gift I was giving to her for months.
“It is very beautiful. You got this for me?”
“Do you like it?”
“Do I like it? I love it. Thank you so much.” And she gave me a tight hug, as she had never done. She held my hands and said, “I have something to tell you. Come with me.”

She led me to the bedroom, made me sit down on the bed and stood in front of me. Looking at me long and hard she said, “I know you have been having a relationship with another woman for sometime now.”
I gulped. I had been caught. This was the end of it all. Why was I such a fool? Why did I have to run after another woman when I already love my wife? She was standing there right in front of me, looking gorgeous in her blue dress and somehow I did not want to lose her now. I felt so guilty that I prayed the earth would swallow me. I tried to speak, tried to tell her that I was sorry, that I loved her – but no sound came out.

“You had been acting weirdly for the past two months and I suspected that something was wrong. Then when you started staying late in the office regularly my suspicion rose. I called your office five different days and every time they told me that you had left a long time back. My suspicion was confirmed when I saw you in the evening one day with a woman with your arm around her. I even saw the sms she sent you yesterday asking you to come over this evening. So I decided to test your love for me. If you had not come home for my birthday you would have had it from me. But since it seems you still love me and care for me enough to leave that woman and come for my birthday party, and cared to buy such a lovely gift, I will give you a chance to redeem yourself and come back to me. Look dear, I love you. I really do. What is wrong with us that you need another woman in your life?”

I was speechless. I somehow felt very guilty and relieved at the same time. I held her close to me and professed my love and told her how sorry I was. I asked her to give me another chance and told her that I would break up with Rebecca the next day. We cried together and I had never felt happier with my wife. The birthday party was just so great. I could not take my eyes off my lovely, amazing wife. Destiny had averted a catastrophe and I thanked the powers to be for saving our marriage. I broke up with Rebecca the next morning and never met her or called her again.

That was almost a year and a half ago on a night like this. I am still with my wife, who has now gone to her parents house for a few days, and I still love her. I drive slowly towards the cafe which is still a few kilometres away. A woman is waiting for me there. Her name is Alice and she is just gorgeous. She is witty and has mesmerized me. My wife does not know about it, I am sure. At least I have learnt something from my last mistakes.