On My All Fours

The very first images of ajmal kasab and the other terrorists gave me a cold sweat. It is one year to the dastardly act of terrorism that shook India. But even now the image of ajmal kasab in his black t-shirt and cargo pants, a haversack on his back and preparing to fire with his AK 47, cooks up a mix of emotions. And you say to yourself this is what fear looks like. Fear doesn’t mean you are a coward. This is not the kind of fear that you experience as you are about to leap in bungee jumping, or you prepare to rappel down a mountain cliff. That is more primal kind of fear. Man has known that kind of fear for hundreds of years now. Even when man was not man yet.

This is a new kind of fear. Man’s ingenuity really knows no boundaries. If this is where evolution is going, I would rather humankind stops evolving. Or better still, I would be happy enough to go down on my all fours again. I would rather die finding food or a mate, than for some kind of false group-identity that man has created and continues to fool himself with.

And after every such blood shed, all we can muster to say is terrorism lost- we won. We won?? Pardon me. We lost more than 170 innocent lives to mindless terror on 26/11. How can we win? How can any body win in this mindlessness? Reopening our hotels and shops, or travelling by the local the day after bomb blasts is not victory. It is merely staying honest and dedicated to our vocations and daily chores at best, and a meek surrender to life’s mundane helplessness at worst.

That misplaced feeling of victory and ‘resilience’ apart; we are as much sitting ducks today, as we were a year ago. What happened on 26/11 a year ago is a shameful, shocking and frightening reflection on the state of preparedness of our internal security set up. And this when we had Mumbai Police in action- probably the best in the country. No doubt we witnessed instances of exemplary courage by Mumbai police. Some brave men lying down their lives in the line of duty – but the question is, was it needed? When kasab and abu ismail were on the loose near CST and Cama hospital, what kind of professional competence does it reflect as three senior police officers got killed? This, when the police had a chance to kill them in the premises of Cama hospital itself where they had been holed up for almost 45 minutes. Please, let us have martyrs for far-far bigger causes, and not for tactical errors. Please let us not loose some of our fine men in uniform to utter lack of preparedness in future.

So as we observe the one year anniversary of Mumbai attacks, let’s question our own existence. Let’s question what right does a trigger happy, illiterate street urchin – who probably hasn’t used a branded toothpaste in his life – have, to snuff out innocent lives from this earth. The next time any such cannibal walks with a piece of molded metal in his hand, let’s question what preparedness do we have to shoot him in his temple before he gets to pull the trigger? What preparedness – and eagerness really - do we have to tell him that it’s your existence that indeed is a burden on this earth, and not us.

The Candle Burns At Both Ends?

(Just to get the context right. This blog was written in January, 2009 but is being published now.)

Two news items particularly caught my attention last week- ‘IIT student commits suicide as he fails to get placement’ and ‘Former IAS officer and Time hero Gautam Goswami dies’. Immediately, I knew the week is going to be a bit gloomy for me. It saddened me to see two of the country’s brightest talents leaving this world in such an unfortunate and tragic manner.

The IIT student (G Suman) had completed his M. Tech. from IIT Kanpur but failed to get placed. To me this event was tragic not only because it was a sad loss of such a talented life; but also because it brought out in open, very starkly, the anomaly that our society is witnessing. Sure we do have lots of sectors opening up, throwing up new job opportunities; but an economy and a society that can not find a job for a post graduate from a premier technology institute has a lot of soul searching to do. So, here we have, a (well paying) job for a commerce graduate who has done a certification course in SAP or any such IT course; but we fail to find a job for a post graduate from IIT. Don’t get me wrong, I have absolutely nothing against a commerce graduate, or anybody getting placed after doing his SAP certification; but its absolutely lamentable when we can not guarantee employable opportunities for people pursuing studies which are academically more pure and disciplined, if I may say so. I mean, you can boast about your MBA degree (even though you might have got it from an institute which is on the third and fourth floors of a shopping complex); but if you have done a M.Sc. from the state university, having a sprawling campus, you would be a non entity.

The educationists and the planners have their task cut out. One can expect that in future one would witness emergence of new streams - like we have witnessed the emergence of bio-technology or Information Technology - only and only if we have sound foundation in pure sciences. If the system is skewed so much so that the youth today simply jumps to the employable streams (by taking up certification courses, or non-descript Business Management courses, etc.) - with the economy in general and employment set up in particular unintentionally encouraging such trend - the long term may spell trouble for us. Whatever happened to the interest and inclination quotient? Where is the matching of skills with careers? Though the economy has churned out employment for a lot of us; it has made commodities out of us in the process.

Increasingly there is less and less number of people genuinely interested in taking up Civil services as a career, for that matter. And this brings my focus to the second news item - that of death of IAS officer Gautam Goswami. His life story - a mix of high academic achievement, professional competence, hero worshipping on one hand, and serious allegations of corruption and malpractices on the other – is also symptomatic of the deeper rot in our society. Gautam had excellent academic credentials (MBBS, MD-gold medalist); but he chose civil services as a career over medicine. He was awarded the prestigious Time magazine’s “Young Asian Achiever Award” for his efforts in flood relief in Bihar in 2004. However, later he was accused of malpractice and siphoning off crorers of rupees in the same flood relief program. He was suspended from the services but later reinstated on health grounds. Gautam died of pancreatic cancer this week.

This was a tragically sad end of a life full of talent and potential. I don’t know whether the accusations hurled at him were true or not. And like umpteen other political scams in this great-great democracy, no one would ever know what the real truth was. In this case however, the truth, whichever way it is, is saddening and lamentable. Because, if Gautam was indeed involved in the scam, the administrative system and the whole political setup indeed, needs to answer a lot – as to how and why did a brilliant, committed and fearless IAS officer go astray. And if he was innocent of the allegations made against him, the whole nation should hang its head in shame. Once again, the country has not only lost a bright officer to the vagaries and malice of our political system, but the concerned officer had to pay a heavy price for it as well.

The message sent out to the youth today is loud and clear. Don’t burn your candles at both ends. Worse still, don’t burn your candle at all. Just borrow the sheen from some incandescent bulb burning nearby

This Is It.

The first time I heard him, I had no idea what is pop, jazz, rock or hip hop. (Nor did I imagine that by the time his time on this earth would be done, he would be a genre by himself).All music to me was classified as either ‘Hindi’ or ‘English’. And it will be pretty safe to say that He (Michael Jackson) was among the first artists to initiate me into the ‘English’ category, along with probably Enigma and Elton John (Sacrifice). Among the first songs that I heard of his was ‘Bad’. Although I couldn’t make a head or tail of what he was singing, he got me hooked instantly. And by the time I bought my first ever English album (Thriller), Michael had well and truly got me a strong footing in the realm of ‘English’ music.

And as I went from naïve to discerning and graduated beyond Enigma to Enya and Alanis Morissette, Michael always held fort. While he effortlessly managed to wear the crown of the ‘King of Pop’, endeavors in his personal life were far from effortless. Born in the family of musicians, he was destined to touch greatness. He was the youngest among the Jackson brothers and easily the most talented as well. As the music and entertainment world saw in years to come, it was not only his singing and music, but also his superlative dancing skills that made him a complete rock star and a complete entertainer. Michael epitomized entertainment. And if you ever heard of people loving their profession, a look at Michael while performing on stage was a proof enough that he belonged there and loved every moment of it. Whatever the state of his life off stage; on stage he felt possessed.

And what makes this king of pop stand all the more tall as a human being is the fact that he was a giver. He gave away his childhood for the cause of not only music, with which he was immensely blessed, but also for all the expectations that came with it. He would never know what a careless and joyful childhood is, as he started performing with his brothers at a very tender age. He gave the entertainment world the magic that it would have never known. It in deed was magic, whatever he did. It was far beyond music. Never ever the music and entertainment world has seen such a diverse and mass fan following. Never ever the world has seen thousands trying to impersonate one person and his brand of art. He was a genre in himself. Never ever the world has seen or will ever see, one person capture the imagination of people cutting across the lines of race, caste, country, colour, sex and even age. If it was not for Michael, we would have never known what ‘Moon Walking’ is. If it was not for Michael, I would have not known that pelvic thrust and crotch clenching can not be vulgar. No other generation would be as lucky and as blessed as the one which witnessed this legend in flesh and blood.

What makes this man taller is also what he had to go through in his life. That how the world expressed its gratitude towards all what he had to offer. From the accusations of child abuse to the merciless persecution about his cosmetic treatments and other aspects of his personal life; the world made sure that Michael died a troubled soul. It’s not about the truth or falsity of such accusations, but the real pain is how such things overshadowed the beauty of his soul. Or, how the world easily forgot that his music had made their troubles melt away every time it saw him perform. Or the callous assumption that he had no right to show the slightest signs of being human, lest it reminds all of us of our own weakness and vulnerability. Time and again world has tested beautiful souls. Michael was no exception.

And as I ponder as to what it is that makes beauty and goodness intolerable to this world, I can not but thank Michael. Thanks for touching that indescribable part of me and my life with your gift. Thanks for giving us a glimpse of the talent and goodness that this mankind is capable of. Thanks also, for showing the basic human vulnerability and the grit to stand up to your difficult moments. Thanks for walking this earth and making this journey that bit exciting, for all of us. One of my constant complaints about life is that it has no background music. Because if it had, I would be playing ‘Heal The World’ as I pay my little tribute to you. So long Brother!! This is it.

Rejuvenating Gasps - My Trek to Ratangadh

A kiss; smile of a baby; picking up a stray puppy from the roadside; helping an elderly cross the road; a hug from your mother; the first kick of a fag - these are a few things that reaffirm to us that our otherwise routine lives are boring at best or pathetically wasteful, at worst.

My trip to Ratangadh was one such thing. The moment I summated the ‘peak’, I knew that I will return to a routine life which is all the more stale.

Thankfully, this time ‘shit’ didn’t happen at the last moment, and this escapade was not flushed down like many other plans, even before it happened. Ratangadh is a part of the beautiful Shayadri ranges in Maharashtra. A few kilometers from Igatpuri, you can approach it via the Mumbai-Nasik highway (NH-3). You can approach Ratanwadi village-which is the base of Ratangadh-directly by road. Alternatively you can take a local train from CST up to Kasara. From Kasara you can drive up to Shendi village (shared taxis available outside Kasara station), and than take boat trip across the lake formed by Bhandardara dam, to Ratanwadi. This is the way we chose to reach Ratanghad, and although a little tiring, it was equally exciting since it involved travel by train, road as well as water.

The first sight of the peak can demoralize those who mistake trekking for a stroll in a park. But there is also a bunch of people who would look at it and say “there it is”. Coming prepared is the best way to allay your apprehensions. Take enough food with you that would last at least a day, if you are planning to camp at the peak for night. But one should be judicious in carrying the kind of food with them, as more the load you carry, more the peak would test your endurance.

The climb could take anything between 90 minutes to three and a half hours, depending upon the strength of the group and their speed. While most of the climb is a classic trek with streams and dense foliage dotting the route, it is the last 100 odd feet which is trickier. It involves what one can call some basic rock climbing. Since this stretch consists of vertical rocks, it’s not trekking any more; it is proper ‘climbing’. You climb up a pair of iron stairs, very precariously placed and wobbly. This leads to a narrow passage between two vertical rocks. This is the last part of the whole trek, and also where you have to be the most careful. Cross this and done. It’s time to exhale now.

As you try to catch your breadth atop the hill, the panoramic view that you get from there would do exactly the opposite- take your breadth away. And for once, the gasping would leave you rejuvenated. And as we sat there looking down upon the vastness below, our minds went into a trance. The next hour or so, as the night slowly descended and the stars flooded the sky, the trance slowly deepened as we puffed away on ‘classic milds’. When you are so far above the ground, with vastness below and above you, trance comes naturally. And these would be one of the most unconditioned thoughts that you are going to get in a long time. Soon enough it was time for ‘dinner’. We had carried with us two packs of ‘ready to eat’ meals. We collected few dry sticks for fuel, and a few minutes later the ‘Paneer masala’ was hot enough to eat. We devoured the food, like we had been hungry for two days on the trot. Siesta came calling very soon, as we rested for the day in the caves atop the peak. This was a thrill in itself. Next day we woke up to a golden sun and started our descent.

While at the top, with every breadth you loose yourself. You loose that self of yours that takes uninvited phone calls and says ‘hello’ every time. You loose the self that has got used to getting up in the morning yet miss the sunrise every time. You have also left behind all the time that other people keep for you. You loose that self of yours which has been enslaved by the world with your own connivance.

So than what do you gain? Not much. A night amidst the stars (literally), as you camp in the caves formed within the rocks atop the peak. You gain the refreshing air which has started detoxifying your lungs long before you realize it. You gain the solitude in which you find your most comfortable company. You gain the dark of the night which has given you best vision ever. And you gain the pulse of your heart, which has a lot to say to you. And this time you would listen!

Bring Back The Britishers

I went back to my history books to check what did Gandhi, Bose, Bhagat Singh and Balgangadhar Tilak have in common. I was startled to learn that it was getting ‘India’ its freedom. What if these great personalities had espoused different causes- Gandhi wanting freedom for Gujarat, Bose for Bengal, Bhagat Singh for Punjab and Tilak espousing the cause of freedom for Maharashtra? And back then it would not have been completely out of order as the idea of India as we know now was still nascent as East India Company slowly but surely took over the reins of princely states once the Mughals receded from the scene. What ever their (heroes of our freedom struggle) individual tenets and beliefs about freedom struggle, their aim was one and thank God for that.

What is out of order however is our present day politicians, shamelessly playing the game of identity politics. Because now we are India, not a scatter of some princely states. And it has been more than six decades now that it has been that way. What I am referring to here is Raj Thackerey’s tirade against all the non-Marathis living in Mumbai/Maharashtra. Yes, the matter is not as fresh so as to elicit a write up now, but this comes after I happen to watch Raj being interviewed by Arnab Goswami on Times Now on 23rd September.

First things first. In his zeal to practice what he preaches, he was responding in Marathi to the questions put by Arnab in English. Raj, I am a Hindu, and a very proud one at that. I respect the fact that you are proud to be a ‘Marathi Manus’. I respect Marathi language, and I respect a zillion other languages that are spoken across the world. I am also cognizant of the fact that English today has eclipsed or is eclipsing our national language and other vernacular dialects, and honestly I can’t propose any solution to it. Because I feel, and India has already realized it, that English is indispensable if you want to communicate with the world. And communicate you must. However, what was surprising was that Raj was replying to the questions in Marathi and not even in Hindi. No Raj, I don’t approve of that, and I am sure so would a lot of other Indians who happen to watch your interview. Unless of course, you were incapable in answering in English. Oh come on, you are talking prime time (almost) national television here. I know you are espousing the cause of Marathi language; well kudos and all the best for that. But I, as an Indian, do not believe that answering in English to an interview in English on prime time national television would in any ways weaken any of my native languages. I, as an Indian, do firmly believe that none of India’s languages is that weak or feeble.

Raj, you might have a lovely cause at your hand, but am sorry to say that your methods have been grossly wrong. Beating up poor and helpless daily bread earners won’t help the cause of Marathi or Marathi manus. Depriving a poor family of their daily bread and making them go hungry for the day will not in any way make another Marathi manus better off. And it is out rightly deplorable, even if it did. What will help Marathi manus or a Gujarati bhai or a marwari seth is when at least 10% of our politicians did what they are supposed to do! What about thousands of Marathi manus, working in the USA, or Hyderabad and Bangalore for that matter? Would you beat them up and thrash them in order to make them leave those places and come back to Maharashtra? Would you Raj?

I appreciate the zeal and energy that you have as a politician. But don’t waste it on utterly disgraceful activities. Ask a thousand Marathi people randomly; who they are more proud of- Tilak or Raj? Keep the answers to yourself, because frankly, I have my own answers. And while you are at that it won’t be a bad idea for me to extend an invitation to the British to come back and rule over us once again. At least they brought us together!