Random rambling.....

The great ages of prose are the ages in which men shave.  The great ages of poetry are those in which they allow their beards to grow.  ~Robert Lynd

The cold and chilly weather of the south Indian city of B'lore is the last thing one would want to even wake up in, let alone shave! However, last night, the monumental meeting of the blade and flesh was facilitated by a bucket full of steaming hot water and an intense drive to get rid of the mountain bear look which resulted in a fine young gentleman who could finally feel his face. So, in honor of the traditions of the age, I decided to write today. However in the absence of any bright ideas, I thought I would merely remark upon some observations I made in the recent past.

1. Always say nice things to girls. No matter how close a friend she might be, just don't say anything nasty even for the heck of it. And remember not to ever call her 'Plastic'. Never ever ever!

2. An internship in most cases than not is clever use of euphemism for sheer idleness in an air conditioned office with an unlimited supply of Diet Coca-Cola and super fast internet. Expect some kill time activities like blogging though.

3. From a purely statistical viewpoint, the second cubicle from the restroom door is most preferred by people when they rush to take a leak. 

4. Its pointless planning outings too much in advance. For all you know, you could go to a Go Kart Track all geared up to burn some rubber only to realize there is a huge Rock competition happening on a stage set on the track!

5. Unless you are carrying a wallet which is tattered on all sides with nothing more than used bus tickets and 6 rupees in change, never board an ordinary public bus in B'lore. Did I mention the cheap jack 3 year old mobile with no SIM and contacts in it you must use in case you insist on boarding one?

6. At your friend's b'day party, don't try to make more than necessary conversation with the girl you were introduced to. It is alright even if she knows nobody else in the party and you are just being courteous by keeping her company. For all you know, she could label you a flirt the next day.
 

7. Girls wear black nail polish because it is the only color they can use and not worry too much about it looking good with the other accessories.

8. If somebody forgot to switch on the water heater in the morning and you still decided to go ahead and bathe, I suggest you buy a strip of D-Cold plus and a box of tissues while going back home from work.

9. When you get your first pay check, you are supposed to be absolutely jubilant about it. In case you are only somewhere near plain happy and considering depositing the check first before going about telling others, DONT! Call up your family first thing and tell them how special you feel about it. Otherwise, you might probably hear words like traitor and ungrateful dog from your sister!

10. Telugu girls from the City of Joy are cute! Especially the ones with black nail polish on their feet!

A state that will be.......

A morning no different from any other. That was how today started. I came back from the sink after making sure my teeth were gleaming white and was searching for my spectacles, when I noticed a neatly folded paper on my desk. Knowing that nothing in the world would make me fold a paper so meticulously, I was sure it didn't belong to me. Naturally, I opened it to read its contents..............

Dear Leela,

I am sure you just got back after giving those teeth of yours a nice brushing. And I am sure the only reason this piece of paper caught your attention was that it was so disciplined and white. Makes me glad that your desk is perennially cluttered with ruffled papers. And please get rid of those purple shorts you sleep in. They are horrendous. They remind me of how big a disaster I was then.

Now,  before you start questioning your sanity and read this letter further, I ask one thing of you. Please believe yourself. You will understand what I mean when you are done reading. The reason I came back all this way is to tell you a story. A story of the land which you will go on to call 'Home'. A story called Telangana.

It has been 20 years now since the state of Telangana came into existence again. With the city of Hyderabad as its capital, it was the long cherished dream which came true and opened doors of opportunity to the people of the region. Or so, they thought. I have not come back to talk about what it is now, but to reflect on why things will turn out to be the way they will turn out to be. For when the issue of the statehood of Telangana was burning, the only thing which everybody seemed to care about was the flaring emotions of the people involved and their mindless actions. The media would rant on about the reasons for the hasty decision of the congress, the agitations for and against the new state; dig deep into the history of Andhra and the erstwhile state of Hyderabad and keep playing images of people destroying public property with a vengeance. But none, not even one, would even bother to talk about the sustainability of the new state that will eventually form!

A state is not just about people and their emotions. It is also about plain economics, practicality and fulfilling the human need. It is not just about having a major metro as its capital. It is also about having a self sufficient system which has its own economic activities to feed itself. The formation of Telangana missed three major logical inconsistencies which eventually led to what it is now.

First, it assumed it had the great metro of Hyderabad on which it can simply piggyback. The problem is, Hyderabad was never a natural capital city or metro. Delhi, for instance was the power capital from the days of yore. Chennai, Mumbai and Kolkata were also cities which grew in their own right and sound economics. The cities of Bangalore and Hyderabad however were never meant to be cities. Nothing about their nature makes them what they are. They just happened to be cities where the geek lords of your age decided to set shop. Nothing more than that. They were cities of chance which owe their existence to the soul of their citizens. And so, when Telangana did happen and Hyderabad went there, it lost its multi-cutural cosmopolitan soul. The people no longer wanted to be part of something which existed for something so narrow as regionalism. As people moved away, so did the city. Before it knew, there wasn't one.

The next mistake was the assumption that the region of Telangana is a dreamland. The truth is, most of its districts are arid and even the rivers which cut through them cannot be used for irrigation purposes without draining the exchequer. It was never a Chattisgarh either, to fall back on its mineral wealth. With no major minerals except the few scattered coal reserves, it hardly presented anything lucrative for the manufacturing industries. Also, except for the few centers of wealth in and around the city of Hyderabad and the two hydel power plants, Telangana had no ammunition. Now, with Hyderabad's image as an investor destination hit thanks to ludicrous policies of the regional sentiment backed governments which hold power here, the investment flows into the state have come down to a trickle.

But the biggest mistake was ignorance of the concept of fringe benefits. As long as Telangana was a part of Andhra Pradesh, Telangana complained about injustice in the allocation of power and water resources. But, what never occurred to it was the benefits it enjoyed being a neighbor of the Rice bag districts of India which fed it with their surpluses and the fact that it reaped the benefits of the richer coastal districts which pumped in their money into Telangana or might I say Hyderabad. So unlike Uttaranchal, where it was the richer region which wished to get away from U.P which was laggard, Telangana was asking the prosperous Andhra region to move away when it should have been using it to power its growth.

From where I come, Telangana is a reality and a harsh one. It is a little less shocking encore of Jharkhand. So, I just wanted to tell you to please put your baseless loyalty to Hyderabad aside and start working your bottom off to build a life outside it. That would mean you would save yourself the effort of writing this letter and leaving it for you again!

Love,

Leela

P.S: Dude, do watch James Cameron's "Avatar" first day, first show at Prasads. You might bump into somebody you would really love to meet.

An irony called Chaos

A great alter ego by the name Tyler Durden once said this. "Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off." These lines which have now attained a cult following pretty much sum up something much deeper and mammoth than a war against mindless consumerism. It exemplifies the very nature of the human race.

The human being is no ordinary creature. It is a highly evolved and sophisticated being which is a little too intelligent for its own good. The human brain is in fact incapable of existing in a state of stagnation or non activity. It is a power house of ideas whose energy has to be constantly channeled in the right directions. Otherwise, the human spirit struggles to contain the energy. It becomes restless, uneasy and increasingly irritable. And when this unrest is contained and applied to the world around, the magic it spins leaves even Merlin spellbound. That precisely is the reason why our civilization has progressed so far till date, and it will further.

However, in this incredible journey of our kind there are lessons to learn. When the going is tough; when there are challenges and tough times, the human spirit is at work in full force. But when these tides are conquered and time beaten, the peace which ensues kills us. A calm and serene world where everything seems to be just right is where man the most ill at ease. The fact that there is no need for him and his intelligence torments him. And it is now, at this very juncture when the human mind finds its existence threatened by its obsolescence, it does the most obvious thing - it creates a need for itself.

Plagues, floods, droughts and famines are one thing. They are Mother Nature's way of reminding us of her. Wars, depressions, riots, emergencies, coups and terrorism on the other hand are the making of man. No, they are not the makings of evil men hell bent on being a blotch on the fabric of human spirit. They are the joints where two strings meet with one going over the other perpendicular to each other. Without these, there is no fabric. Just strings which fall down as empty threads when left. Chaos is an irony. It is the human mind's ultimate defense mechanism. If there is none, it merely creates it only to seek to destroy it and give meaning to its existence. Nothing sinful. In fact, nothing new. It has been happening from the time humans existed. Just that we choose to ignore it and blame a few for the state of affairs of the world we live in. What we do not realize is that without any chaos, we would probably be itching to create just that.

We are Mother Nature's biggest mistake. We should not have been created. We should not have walked this planet at all. But now that we have, God save us!

Mera pehla pehla pyar..........

An appeal: The following is an account of a very important and life altering day of a 12 year old written with the same unblemished innocence and intent of a kid of the same age. So, it is best enjoyed when read from the eyes of a 12 year old.

It was a Wednesday. I still remember vividly. I was out on the porch with Varun taking some last minute tidbits from him when I first saw her. She was waving at someone and smiling brightly. Oh! I doubt if I will ever forget that first glimpse of her. But, before I realized what hit me, she was gone. As the world around came back to me, I realized how slowly my heart beat now, how funny my stomach felt with a weird tingling and how rhythmic my breath had become. I looked around in vain but alas! she was gone already.

The next time I saw was again a Wednesday. I was pulled off the line for untidy hair and made to stand aside after the prayer. I was doing the ceremonial lowering the head with shame when I saw her again. Sleepy and puffy eyed, she wore a straight face as she silently walked to her class in the line. My eyes followed her till it became too obvious to the others where I was looking. And then, it happened.

I should have seen it coming. Life was being a little too nice to me. I was doing well in the class, was having a great time at school with Nick, Tanmoy and Varun and an even better time back home with my gully friends, scoring well for our side in cricket and taking some good wickets too. In fact, I even managed to successfully execute a coup against the local bully and make sure he batted only twice every match! So, that morning I returned to the class after being roughed up by the physical trainer for the untidy hair and asked Nick what I had missed. He was telling me something when we were interrupted by Miss Kalpalatha. "There will be no classes in the after noon session today. Instead, there will be a reshuffling of students into sections", she announced and left.

Honestly, I had no idea what shuffling meant then but all I cared about was that we had no classes in the afternoon. So that afternoon, we guys had our meals late and lingered in the corridor till all the students were asked to vacate the classes with all our belongings. It took me a little less than a minute to put the pencil and the solitary book I wrote in back in the bag, pick my lunch basket and walk out. Nick, Varun and Tanmoy followed a little later and we stood in wait for our names and new sections to be announced.

"Tanmoy Mondal", shouted Kalpalatha. "E Section". He looked at the remaining three of us, assured us at least the remaining three of us will be in the same class and left to join the group of students from the other sections who were now going to be his classmates (We knew we wouldn't be joining him as he was being placed in the Sanskrit section. We on the other hand picked Hindi.) "S Varun, C Section", came next. He looked at me and Nick, puzzled and desperate, and left. Nick and I waited with bated breath hoping our names would also be called under C Section. But, C Section came and went with neither of our names being called out. "Nikhil D, B Section", was next and I looked silently and helplessly as my last best and only friend was herded into his new section. Intuitively, I felt my name wouldn't be called in this section. Yet, I stood there praying and waiting for my name to be called. "Leela Krishna, A Section" came and with it, I felt the little solid ground under my feet being pulled away throwing me into a deep endless tunnel of solitude where I had none of my best friends. It was while I was walking back slowly to my class (I was previously in the same section) dragging my basket along when I heard it. "Her, A Section", yelled Kalpalatha. I looked stunned as she slowly walked ahead of me and settled in the desk right next to where I sat in the class! Fumbling, half elated and half dazed, I walked to my desk, turned to her and said "Hi".

And that is how I uttered my first words to Her, the most beautiful thing that I have ever known.

And the award goes to...........

Once there was a school boy who was very notorious for mischief in the class. Coming from an influential family, he had his way in everything and was pretty much in public glare. No matter what the class teacher tried, the boy simply wouldn't mend his ways.

One day, the teacher was in the loo doing his business while reading the newspaper when he read "The News". And Eureka! That year, he gave the prestigious "Best Student of the class" award to the naughty kid. The whole school cried foul about the award; some openly, some in whispers. But, there was no undoing it.

On the other side, the kid was in a fix. He knew that the award is given only to the best in recognition of their achievements and conduct and he was nowhere in contention for it. Yet, now he found the shiny "Best Student" badge pinned to his tie binding him with invisible ropes of obligation to be good in public. He could no longer make any rash moves or be aggressive as the whole school was watching him keenly. The weight of the expectations and the glare of the eyeballs which followed his every move crippled the devil in him and he found himself trying to appease the others. Before he knew, his time at school was over and he was out.

On the last day, he walked up to his teacher and asked him why of all people in the world, he had given the prize to him. The teacher just smirked and said "Oh! I just borrowed the idea from the Norwegian Nobel Committee. You were just my little make-do Obama dear".

The Fairer Sex

It is already the last week of September and the clock is ticking faster by the minute. A sudden sense of urgency and purpose has crept into everybody and it is showing on their faces. With non-existent placements and dearth of aid in the US universities, people have suddenly discovered the manager in them and wish to hone their skills with an MBA. So, keeping up with the mood and time, a post to relax all those who give endless AIMCATS, SIMCATS and ProcMocks.

Directions for questions 56 to 60: Answer the questions on the basis of the following information.

A group of 6 young people A,B,C,D,E,F go on a picnic to Neverland. All of them are either male or female and straight. Each of them work in 6 different organizations. Also, each of them likes one genre of movie. Further, the following information is known:

(i) A loves to demand one of those "ladies" seats  in a public bus.

(ii) B loves to throw a nasty look at all those men standing in a long never-ending line waiting for their turn at the ticket counter of a multiplex while she catwalks in her special line to get hers.

(iii) C is a strong and independent naari who works for the "equality with men in all spheres of life" cause on behalf her fellow naariyan.

(iv) D is a go getter who proudly flaunts her "girl power" and loves to get up the corporate ladder using it.

(v) E is a lawmaker in the parliament. He/she proposed two bills in the house. One asks for 50% reservation for women in all urban and semi-urban municipalities. The other wished to make it mandatory for all corporate companies to publicly acknowledge and give EQUAL opportunities to women at workplace.

(vi) F is a psychology student doing his doctoral studies on "What women actually want?"

56. Do A and B enjoy the special treatment given to them?

(a) All the time.

(b) They can't stop grinning.

(c) Obviously it is their birth right.

(d) More than one of the above.

57. What would D say about herself?

(a) If you have it, flaunt it.

(b) Men have their advantages, I have mine.

(c) I am helpless. People crush me.

(d) Both (a) & (b)

58. Will C who fights for "Equality" use the privileges used by A & B?

(a) Barack Obama is the president of the US.

(b) Duh!

(c) She will stand in the long queue for tickets.

(d) She never sits in a bus, seat or no seat.

59. What is E?

(a) An alien from Mars.

(b) A woman.

(c) A man.

(d) A confused asylum runaway.

60. When will F finish his PhD?

(a) Very soon.

(b) 5-7 years if he changes the topic.

(c) Eternity if he doesn't.

(d) Either (b) or (c)

Sands of history

For the past one and a half month, the first page of every newspaper in the republic of India carried nothing but never ending articles about the book on Mohammed Ali Jinnah by one Jaswant Singh and the consequences he and his party had to bear, as they were thrashed from every direction for writing about the man in question, Jinnah in slightly positive light. Even the editorial page was not spared and every notable editor and celebrity writer in India, even those who had nothing much to say on the topic picked up their pen and wrote. This one book alone gave Jaswant Singh more publicity than his entire stint as the external affairs minister of India. Now that the issue has finally lost steam and the press has suddenly discovered that there is a whole world to write about, I thought I can have my say in peace.

I have always been very fortunate to have a well networked father, Satan. So, I had the pleasure of writing to Mr. Jaswant directly asking him why like the sudden spurt of rainfall all over the country, he had this urge to write about something so clichéd like Mr. Jinnah and the partition era. He was courteous enough to reply promptly and elaborated in detail why he had taken such a decision. He also wished I address him as Jaswant uncle for he felt a lot more liked then. He wrote that one evening when he was out for a walk in the local park, he bumped into a guy who was sitting peacefully on a bench and reading the evening news. When he looked at him, he was surprised to see that he looked freakishly similar to Mr. Jinnah. Amazed with the resemblance, Jaswant uncle blurted it out. The other man looked at Jaswant uncle alarmed, and smiled back. He said, “Yeah, I get that a lot. Big man he was, Mohammad Ali Jinnah.” The pleasant manner in which his hasty remark was taken took Jaswant uncle by surprise, for the post-independence Indian history has scrutinised every single detail of Jinnah; distorted and conveniently played with it making Jinnah nothing less demonic and iconic than the dark lord, Sauron from the Lord of the Rings series. He sensed Jaswant uncle’s surprise and asked him to join him. And then, he began.

“A time not so long ago, there was a nation of over 350 million. It was ruled over by a smaller but, more powerful nation. The ruling nation was a rather selfish one and didn’t care much about the subject nation. This created a lot of dissidence in the people regarding the policies of the ruling nation. So, a few rebelled. When they were crushed by the government, they rebelled harder. Still, it yielded no results. And the entire nation of 350mil shouted in unison and the ruling nation peed in its pants. The fact that it itself was going through an internal turmoil didn’t help matters. So, they agreed to withdraw and grant independence to the subject nation.

Now, the catch came here. All this time, the entire population of 350mil was more or less represented by a group of leaders. Gradually, their popularity and reach grew to such colossal heights that they became larger than life personalities. In fact, they were so large that the nation swayed if one of them sneezed, or groaned in pain if one of them had an upset stomach. Now, of these leaders, three leaders towered over the rest. Though many argue there are more; for the sake of this story, let us just say there are three. One of these was a man of high morals and principles. He had no political ambitions whatsoever. The other two on the other hand were smart, articulate, charismatic orators who had great visions for the country. They were very ambitious too. Both represented the hopes, aspirations, and apprehensions and fears of two particular sections of people. However, they were hardly anything like the people they represented. One represented the Muslims but, he relished pork, loved liquor, never did his namaz and wore nothing but the finest of English suits. The other was a more secular face but since the Muslims backed the first one, the Hindus backed him. He too was not exactly a devout Hindu. Either way, they were 'judwa' images of each other. These similarities became the core reason for the revulsion they had for each other.

They differed in just one thing, and it was the dream they had for the new independent nation. The Muslim one wanted a loose confederation of Balkan states which functioned independently. The other envisioned a great socialist power in the new nation with a strong central government working in tandem with the state governments. So, when the time had come, they wanted their own way. Since both held high posts in the interim government, they started pulling it in two different directions. Their aides simply followed the leaders and didn’t help much. The Muslim guy’s aide controlled the finance of the nation. The other was involved with the planning. Now, he was not getting the money he wanted. But, there was nothing he could do about it. Also by this time, the idea of splitting the spoils had come up in both their heads. So, as one of them put it, ‘If you have a headache, chop the head off and it is gone’ the head and body were torn apart and both got their way. As this division happened, both bled and the blood that flowed formed a thick stream of hatred and loathing which kept the two new nations apart.

Honestly, the mistake was nobody’s. The Muslim was never the communal prick he was and the Hindu was not always the thick headed git he acted like. It was just that as things shaped up, they had to take those routes for what they felt in their own ways was the common good. And like they say, there is never a ‘if it would have happened in another way’ in history. Everything in history happened the way it had happened because it was the only way it could have happened. The best we can do is to study and learn from it. However, it is incredibly foolish to dwell upon it.”

And it stopped. Jaswant uncle who till now, was busy absorbing every word keenly opened his eyes and saw there was nobody around. Actually, there was not a single human soul anywhere near where he was sitting. He had no clue how the other guy who was talking to him till a moment ago, had vanished into thin air. The sudden eeriness of the situation gave Jaswant uncle goose bumps and he rushed back home. But, the story clung in his head for a long time to come. And that is how he ended up in the soup he is in right now.