Where Reality is a Nightmare

Saudi Arabia look out! Here comes India!

2011-12-06T19:15:00.000-08:00

China, Iran and Saudi Arabia. And now India. What hallowed company to join in "freedom of expression" quotient! Yet that is what Kapil Sibal and this Congress government want us to do! I can of course, see where they are coming from. It's vote bank politics.

Certain sections of certain communities have taken offense to criticism by others. Any others. And any criticism, whether valid or not. Appealing to the more radical sections of these communities is what the Congress is trying to do in this desperate attempt at communally divisive politics to divert attention from their horrifyingly corrupt and inept reign thus far.

The economy is in tatters, inflation is alarmingly high, policy is paralyzed and corruption is at highs that haven't been seen since Mugabe's awesome run in Zimbabwe. They can't or rather, don't want to, do anything about these issues, since they enrich them, so they're taking the easier route - communal politics. I wait to see how the media will pitch this. Will they have the bollocks to call the game as it is? Or will the paid minions and stooges of the Congress continue to pitch this as a brave Congress being the secular party here - batting to protect religious sentiments while any opponents - my hopes lie with you, BJP, on this one - are the communal ones?

It's an alarming situation overall. There are several posts one sees that may be objectionable all over cyberspace. But that is the definition of freedom of opinion, speech and expression! How could the Congrress defend MF Hussain and then take this stand here? Simple. Communal politics. I'd like to see anyone try to defend the Congress from that allegation - communal politics by the Congress - again.

Coming as it does - at the same time as the criminally awful Communal Violence Bill - it is quite clear what game the Congress is playing at. That Bill is the most biased, poorly drafted and legally nonsensical Bill I have ever had the misfortune of coming across. I don't see it being passed. In fact, I doubt very much if even the Congress sees it being passed. Drafted as it is by a committee founded and headed by Sonia, it is clearly however, a deeply planned move. So, like I said, it has to have a tie-in with the other things the party is doing...and it does.

Think about the major policy directions taken by the party recently.

1. The Communal Violence Bill

2. Rahul the Oaf's push for reservation on religious lines.

3. The decision to censor "communally sensitive" material on the Net.

If the minority community that has been targeted with these moves does not see this game for what it is and still goes ahead and votes for the Congress, the country is doomed. For that will be the clearest signal ever to the whole political spectrum that a large chunk of the country's population will vote for inept government as long as a certain narrow religious interest is projected as being served. We will then be safely able to abandon all hope of ever seeing real development agendas in politics as all politicians will be falling over themselves to be more "secularly" communal than the next. I fear that's exactly what will happen, but till such time as those fears are proved true, there remains hope. Forlorn, but still, hope.

Hammering Home

2011-11-28T11:02:00.001-08:00

Gary Speed's passing has just reminded me of something I remember thinking about a long time back. If I'm not wrong, I even wrote something stout it at one time. It seems strange to a lot of people, but sometimes the people that the world thinks have it best, are the ones that think of life as hopeless and a dead-end. It's never about the obvious. It's in the mind and the inner Self that life is lived. The rest is but a damned mess.

It's a dangerous game you're playing Diggy...

2011-11-18T10:01:00.001-08:00

Diggy has been quite the character over the past few months. But he's playing a dangerous game. In a lot of ways, it's easy to see what he is playing at. He and his entire party are pinning their hopes on some key assumptions:1. The Indian people are stupid and will vote for them anyway. 2. The media is so corrupt now that they'll ensure that the fence-sitters are pushed into their corner. 3. Even if they don't win, they'll have left behind such a mess that the next government will be destined to fail to solve it and will therefore never win again. One just has to hope he is wrong and I get the feeling that he is at times skating on impossibly thin ice. But he is after all just an idiot puppet mouthing off the words that a former waitress and now Queen Spider, wants him to spout, say some people and they are right in saying that what he says is exactly what she and her guides demand. But she is no idiot and even if she herself is, some of her coterie are not. They are some of the most seasoned, corrupt and criminal brains in the world. There should be no doubt in anyone's mind therefore, that it is a well thought out gamble and a shrewd bet that the party is making. Each of their assumptions has a solid foundation and the party is trying to play the odds. Oh well... More later I guess.

Ice Creams are for Fandroids...

2011-10-20T02:19:00.000-07:00

So apparently Android is out with yet another OS version. I suppose this just means that the Galaxy S II et al are now outdated and obsolete?

I somehow can't understand the Fandroids that keep touting the new OS release as a vindication of their decision to opt for Android. It borders on bizarre for a number of reasons:

1. I can't seem to recall any of these Fandroids ever getting an OS update on their own phones. The ones that bought phones with 2.2 when that was the latest things are now on...2.2. The sheer fragmentation of the market means that the OEMs never bother to release OS updates for their older models. Effectively therefore, you're stuck with the OS you have.
Which is in complete contrast with iOS. Even people with two and a half year old iPhone 3GSes are rocking along with iMessage and iCloud. No issues, completely seamless. Now, THAT is an upgrade path...

2. Android's catching up on apps, scream the Fandroids. Well, maybe they are, though I really think that's debatable at best. Now, how many apps work on any given device though? Apps, as any developer would tell you, need to be built for an OS as well as a screen resolution, at the very least. Now, given the fragmentation, that's an issue! I know several of these Fandroids who actually admit that when it comes to their own models, several apps are not compatible and several that are, were actually available for months on iOS as well as even some other Android models and even Nokia and WP7 before being available for them. So much for cutting edge, eh?
Again, iOS offers a total contrast. One platform means that an app is available when it's in the App Store. Simple as. Nothing more to it...

3. Looks, UI and UX. With all due respect, I wouldn't be seen dead with any of the present Android phones, having used iDevices and Nokia. The phones are at best plasticky and, most of the time, downright cheap and ugly. As for the UI, the less said the better. Personal choice you say? Show me a person who prefers any Android phone to an iPhone on these parameters and I'll show you a liar. Android had a long way to catch up on these metrics when it started and if anything, it has further to catch up now. And please don't slate me for being a fanboi here. I rate almost all Nokia smartphones (key word, 'smartphone') as being far superior on looks and hardware. As for UI and UX, well, iOS is way off ahead in the distance and WP7 too is well ahead of Android. It's lucky for Android that MS planted Elop at Nokia, because the N9 with Meego also looked well ahead of the curve compared to Android.

4. The ability to customize is the name of the game, I hear the Fandroids say now... Well, let's put it this way. Fandroids that 'customize' first root their devices. Well, for root, read jailbreak and now let's talk, shall we? In any case, just what IS this customization that Fandroids talk about? I actually don't get this part. Most can hardly seem to get their phones to work without a lag, so I'd welcome any answers on this one... "What is the customization you do on your Androids that I can't do on iOS?"

5. iOS - "It just works."

Enough said.

Man Who Changed the World...

2011-10-06T09:15:00.000-07:00

Steve Jobs - you shall be missed. For once, the hype and mourning is richly deserved. Just yesterday, a friend and I discussed what the future holds for mobile devices. Whatever that may be, it just seem that bit less exciting in a non-Jobs future...

R.I.P.

Surely You're Joking, 'Civil Society'...

2011-09-01T07:47:00.000-07:00

Of late, I find some people displaying openly the lack of application of intellect that one would normally not associate with an intelligent bunch, as they claim themselves to be. They rejoice in a "great victory for civil society". I find myself unable to join in their joy and can only shake my head in disbelief at their complete and mindless blindness to what seems to me, to be a set of facts, the inference from which should be patently obvious to anyone with a will to understand reality. Perhaps though, that is where it all begins to unravel.

Perry Mason was fond of saying that you can't fit your facts around your case. You should fit your case around the facts. That, to my mind is something applicable not just in legal fiction, but also in day to day life. When you see something that defies logic, it probably does and is therefore not what it seems or purports to be. So, let me jot down - for my future reference - the way I see what is happening around me today.

First let's look at the case that people are trying to fit their facts around.

The Case: Supported and then led by the mainstream media a Great Indian Civil Society Movement Against Corruption has forced government to finally act to clamp down on corruption in India.

The facts that should be looked at now and tried to be fitted around the case.

Fact 1: Through generations of a system designed to promote nepotism, the mainstream media is completely and absolutely dominated by those swearing allegiance to the party in governance and more specifically, to its first family.

Fact 2: The mainstream media has, for decades, stood steadfastly by the aforementioned party and family, through what would normally be considered indefensible and has consistently doctored and spun stories, facts and reporting to aid them

Fact 3: The media contains several members who have recently been alleged to have been acting - quite literally - as pimps in ministerial appointments among other more serious allegations.

Fact 4: The so-called representatives of civil society contained amongst other, a person who has since been alleged - through exposes - to be hand-in-glove with the government and who has been a vocal Leftist disowned by the very society of which he claims to be a 'guru' and 'swami'.

Fact 5: There has been for a long time, a man - let's call him AH - who has led small campaigns against regional and petty corruption, normally resulting in small token actions. He has now suddenly emerged as 'this generation's Gandhi' in a 'new fight for independence from corruption'.

Fact 6: The government seemed to make one blunder after another, lengthening a non-issue and allowing more and more mass support to build, before suddenly doing a phenomenal volte-face, led by the new 'scion' of their party's first family. These were token concessions made which could have been made on Day 1, but were not.

Fact 7: There was another agitation gathering steam that has lost the limelight completely on account of this 'mass uprising' of 'civil society'. That one targeted illegal wealth and demanded that details of the same be made public and the wealth be seized.

Fact 8: A day after the great victory, the Finance Minister announced that three committees have been given 18 months to study the issue and chalk out a plan on how to draft a report on the means to tackle black money and confirms that nothing is expected to even begin therefore, for at least the next 18 months.

Fact 9: The 'activist' and 'anti-corruption' mainstream media chooses not to report this piece with any fanfare - if reporting it at all.

Fact 10: The so-called 'great victory' has achieved absolutely nothing yet and beginning of any real action has not even got a timeline! What will follow is the process that would have been followed prior to the agitation as well... Quel surprise?

Now, why does it seem to me, to be something is massively amiss? Am I a conspiracy theorist? Or is it just blindingly obvious that there is something emitting a massive stink in this bunch of facts given the case that they're so clearly not supporting?

Now how about trying to create a case that does indeed fit the facts?

Case: The ruling powers, aided by the media, have allowed the public to release and vent all its energy in a 'struggle' that has resulted in nothing actioned against corruption, thereby effectively diverting attention away from the struggle against illegal overseas accounts, political corruption and the involvement of the highest offices in sundry scams and has allowed a general air of contentment to envelop a nation battling double-digit inflation.

In the whole act, there are certain outcomes that should actually be considered borderline depressing:

1. Nobody now has any more energy left to expend in the near future. The account holders on the Lichtenstein list can breathe easy.
2. The media - which had till recently been facing stinging criticism amidst allegations of insufferable bias - is now smelling of roses and being considered a powerful ally in the people's battle against corruption.
3. The first family of the ruling party has - aided brilliantly subtly by the media - positioned itself brilliantly as the ones that saved the day.
4. The scapegoats in the entire episode are actually people that don't matter at all in the electoral scenario - they're minor level functionaries (in public view, that is).
5. The media has now begun the subtle move towards again massaging public opinion to a favourable view of the supposedly 'honest' imbecile top-man and his mistress' family.
6. There are several people who actually still believe that "despite everything, the ones in power are still the best option we have."

It defies comprehension that people actually fall for all this. But it also surprises me that it surprises me.

After all, think about it. People will tell you that a chap, let's call him X, is 'an honest and good person'. Now think about whether without media intervention, you'd ever think that way about him when you look at his reality:

He works on the orders of someone else and has now done so for 7 years.
It's the people whose orders he works on, who decide who his support staff and aides shall be.
Both those he works for and those that are appointed by him, have been accused of massive corruption for years.
Scam after scam has plagued X's team and each time X has claimed that he didn't know about it.
X has not, however, ever denounced any of those accused and has never taken a single step to distance himself from his position - for seven years.

In no other walk of life, in no other corner of the world, could such a man be considered 'honest' or 'good'. Spineless? Of course! But also - at the very least - intellectually dishonest and ethically and morally bankrupt.

In-Credible!

2011-03-23T00:57:00.000-07:00

“Oh, so they killed him”. It’s a statement that everyone seemed to make when they read about the alleged suicide of Sadiq Batcha. On paper of course, it has now been pronounced death by asphyxia by the post-mortem and it’s accepted officially as a suicide.

The doctor that conducted the post-mortem though quit within a couple of days of the result and is now contesting elections. Coincidence? We’re supposed to believe so, but how many actually do?

The credibility of the government has never been lower since as long as I can remember – and since that time spans the rules of PVN, IKG, HDDG, ABV and MS, that’s really saying a lot! The systemic corruption has never been worse than it is today and the government seems to be looting the exchequer with a will never seen before. It’s almost as if they have assumed that they won’t return to power and so, should make the most of it while they enjoy it.

What is worse though is the other alternative, which is that they are convinced that the populace is stupid and will vote them back to power anyway. It’s something that sends shivers down my spine, but past evidence suggests that such an assumption may well be proved right.

We have a PM who claims to not know what happens in his government.

We have a government that has transcended all expectations of shame.

We have a Finance Minister who puts the privacy of those with unaccounted funds worth trillions higher than the need to “bring them in”.

We have a government that believes that the right punishment for a corrupt CM is a Central portfolio.

We have “Cabinet reshuffles” as the cure to all ills - a different portfolio obviously seems to be taken as the 'punishment' warranted for any ills ranging from incompetence to corruption to murder.

We have an Agriculture Minister who believes it is better to allow food to rot rather than distribute it to those dying of starvation.

We have our own equivalent of the ‘Royal Family’ that is immune to all investigations of corruption despite all roads seemingly leading directly to it.

We have a State that believes that the CWG scam never happened.

I really could go on. Are we really convinced that this is the best government we can have? If anyone thinks that the answer is yes, I despair for the future of the country itself.

Two turkeys do not make an eagle...

2011-02-14T02:30:00.000-08:00

Right, so first things first, let me admit that I had planned to buy the Nokia E7. It may sound odd, but I looked at it as a very sane and logical choice. I like mechanical QWERTY keypads, large screens, the ability to use Office software and the ability to customize. So, the E7 was just about the only phone that actually fit the bill!

I've had to defend my choice in the past from people who criticised the UI and the UX. It just didn't matter to me as long as the phone gave me what I wanted. And that, is just why I have such an issue with Nokia ditching Symbian and MeeGo to bed in with Microsoft and WP7.

A lot of people actually seem to like the idea of Nokia shifting to Windows. I wonder if these people can see past the first look of the screen! I mean, how on Earth can anyone endorse a platform that:

1. Can't multitask
2. Has horrid optics (No support for front-facing cameras?)
3. Can't COPY AND PASTE!!! (Didn't Microsoft pretty much come up with the whole idea?)

I've used Nokia for over a decade, so for me, most of these things - particularly the first two - are things that I can't live without. To my mind, Nokia has always made the best phones when it comes to hardware. Great design, extreme sturdiness and good build quality. What the phones always lacked was the UI - something that was shown up by Apple and iOS with such dramatic effect.

Tying up with Microsoft may give Nokia a better looking phone OS, but really, why on Earth would one buy into an OS that clearly lacks even basic features like those I outlined above, has a worse-than-pathetic app base (particularly for those outside the US), has shown no signs of living with the times when it comes to mobile computing and has been absolutely shafted on sales since its launch?

Qt offered Nokia the opportunity to change their UI and UX while also supporting a massive dev base with the promise of the upcoming MeeGo. It gave Nokia the freedom it has always touted proudly as a strength and was showing results with a fast-improving app base. What was needed was a massive UI upgrade and an overhaul of the Ovi store to make it a more appealing place to surf and shop.

Instead, by jettisoning first S90 a while back, Nokia fell behind the competition and by now jettisoning Qt as well as MeeGo, Nokia has ensured that its short term sales will most likely nosedive. I for one, am now about to procure an iPhone 4 and personally know at least 3 others who've jettisoned their own E7 plans in favour of iOS or Android. Why bother buying a phone, OS and platform that have no future and have already been announced as being well on the path to death? Whatever Nokia may say, for a smartphone user, this announcement has restricted the choice to 2 'ecosystems' - at least for the foreseeable future.

In the longer term, surely this is the biggest and most reckless gamble ever! WP7 is unproven and heavyweights like Samsung and HTC who are ruling the Android market have also failed miserably when it came to their own WP7 models - despite having years of experience with Microsoft OSes on their phones. What makes Nokia think that they would do otherwise? Unless MS really works at breakneck speed and overtakes the ever-improving Android and iOS, what could change things? Devs don't appear to like MS too much either. And will they now trust Nokia? After been sold up s*it-creek, who would blame them for preferring the established iOS and Android instead?

I wonder, really, at what is really in it for Nokia. I can't see Nokia being allowed to change the WP7 OS to customize it for their phones. Can you imagine the outcry from HTC, Samsung and the likes if that were to happen? And if they can't change that, surely WP7 is even less of a differentiation opportunity than Android - which, being open source, would have given them the greater scope to differentiate...

All in all, it's a Hell of a gamble and Nokia's just placed all its eggs in one - very - flimsy basket. They've also almost certainly lost a truckload of customers. Winning them back is going to be a far tougher job in 2 years' time - which is the earliest I see them having a viable 'ecosystem'. I may well be wrong, but this is one erstwhile Nokia user saying "So long and thanks for all the fish". It was good while it lasted...

Jab, Punch... Ouch...

2011-01-18T01:42:00.001-08:00

The best thing to be said about a punch in the face is that at least a reaction to the same shows the animation - or lack thereof - of the recipient. On balance therefore, I am inclined to believe that I am alive. In pain and probably not too content or happy with the overall scheme of things, but undoubtedly and most definitely in possession of whatever it is that imparts us with the ability to move without a significant amount of external assistance...

Of Insurance and the (lack of) Ethics of the Tatas

2009-08-04T01:42:00.000-07:00

I’m peeved at myself. Peeved for having wasted INR 10 and pissed off that I ever contemplated the Tata Group for anything whatsoever. I do however feel better at only having spent INR 10 and not more… Shall offer a brief explanation for the benefit, particularly, of people who claim to be believers in the whole “Oooh! The Tatas are so ethical” crap.

I received a call from Tata AIG the other day offering me accident insurance. Since I was a Platinum card holder with **** Bank they said, I was entitled to a special offer wherein I only paid a premium of INR 10 for the first two months. Thereafter, the premium would be INR 241 per month. They could obviously not offer too many details of this super-awesome scheme over the phone, but they would courier me the documents right away if I accepted the INR 10 charge. They assured me that once I saw the scheme I’d be thanking all my ancestors for all the good deeds they had ever done for me to have received this offer.

Normally, I dismiss these schemes out of hand but I had, that very morning, argued to all at home that I was immensely capable of getting myself quality insurance schemes without all and sundry chipping in. So I not just signed up for this scheme, but even got a 2-in-1 whereby self and spouse would pay only INR 461 (discounts! How could anyone argue with me now???)!

I got home and was roundly berated by one and all for having subscribed to such a half-ass scheme. A week later and close study of the document revealed what everyone had feared. The scheme was – only slightly, mind – worse than the average steaming pile of compost. So, I called up Tata AIG and asked for the scheme to be cancelled. A step-wise recollection of the call.

Step 1. They insisted on running me through the benefits.
I still refused to stick with the scheme and said I wanted out.

Step 2. They then said they would pitch in FREE insurance (up to a value of INR 5 lacs) for any household product I purchased, including furniture, laptops, mobile phones, TVs etc…
I still refused and said I wanted out. By now, I was feeling foolish for having agreed to the older scheme anyway, given that they were obviously willing to offer far more at the same value.

Step 3. They offered to reduce the premium to INR 307 instead of 461. With the same benefits.
Now I was furious. I said I wanted out.
So the man said he could go still lower. I insisted that he just cancel the scheme immediately. So the chappie on the line suddenly turned rude and aggressive.

He did finally cancel the scheme, but that, I assure you, is the last I ever do business with the Tatas unless it becomes unavoidable.

On the plus side, at least you now know how to get lower premia on your insurance schemes. Just threaten to cancel the blooming things…

Tatas and ethical? My left eyeball!!!

Nearly Dead, Only Worse...

2008-11-27T06:11:00.000-08:00

Just got confirmation that a very close friend lost her husband and that another lost a family member.

At around 1030 PM (That’s 2230 hours IST), I left my house to pick up an item I had left at a friend’s place. As I turned onto the Western Express Highway, I received a call from a friend who told me that Mumbai was under attack. I decided that there was really nothing I could do at that time. Nearing the airport I decided to take the flyover rather than go from below it, despite the latter route normally being quicker.

While descending from the flyover, I heard a bang, felt the flyover shake and smelt the acrid odour of gunpowder. I had, though I did not know it at that time, narrowly escaped being yet another victim of a terrorist attack. Some of my friends, acquaintances and others were, obviously, not as lucky as me. I need not delve into the happenings of last night as they are or at least should be, known to all by now.

It brought my mind though to something I read in last morning’s newspapers. The PM and the Congress Party had declared that Abhinav Bharat is the ‘biggest threat to India’s security’. I wonder why no news channel is bothering to ask them what they think about that statement now. But then, such wondering is my folly as should be apparent to anyone familiar with the Indian media.

Let’s do a recap, shall we? The year was 2001 and India’s Parliament had just been attacked. A certain Afzal was arrested and sentenced to death. He is still very much alive and has a mercy petition pending before India’s President several years after his sentence was passed. There are several in India’s political establishment and so-called intelligentsia (led by the prime bit*h Arundhati Roy) who proclaim that he is deserving of mercy. Where are these people now with their opinions on the situation?

2008 and 6 Muslims were killed in a blast in Malegaon. A woman who used to own a motorcycle that was used in the blasts was arrested. When the narco tests revealed nothing, she was subjected to a full 7 more narco tests. That is 7 narco tests more than the security forces deem as being the safe limit for even the most hardened terrorists. While Moninder Singh Pandher, the reprehensible Noida man (the one who stands accused of abusing, killing, cannibalizing, necrophilia and disfiguration of children as young as 6 years old) was not subjected to further tests, the ATS merely took the absence of confessions after 8 narco tests of the Sadhvi as evidence that she ‘is a tough nut’.

The Sadhvi and her alleged accomplices were labeled ‘Hindu terrorists’ despite even al-Qaeda being termed only as ‘Islamist’ terrorists with strenuous riders emphasizing that the term was clearly meant to imply that Islam is a peaceful faith as are most Muslims. Presumably, the Indian media and political establishment do not consider non-Muslims of deserving the same disclaimers.

Now, terrorists have struck at the heart of Mumbai. News channels took over 12 hours before they stopped calling them ‘alleged terrorists’ and ‘so-called terrorists’ despite the rapidly mounting death and casualty numbers. The political establishment still prefers to call them ‘militants’.

Manmohan Singh has now finally said that they will deal with the perpetrators in a tough manner. But what of Afzal? Is he not a shining example of just how tough our political establishment is capable of being?

The ATS and the media says that Hemant Karkare was a great man. Is his refusal to see beyond the Sadhvi not the clearest damnation of just how incompetent he was in his duty? (I hate it that our policemen were killed by terrorists, but let’s not allow that to cloud our judgment)

The State Police say that the terrorists came by dinghy by sea. Oh yes. And managed to carry AK-47 and AK-56 assault guns and enough arms and ammunition into the Taj and the Oberoi and Nariman House to fight this long (nearly 24 hours as I write this)…and still have grenades left? And managed to blow up cabs at various places?

Mulayam and Lalu Yadav and of course Amar Singh were prompt in their strident declarations that the terrorist who shot dead a decorated and respected Police office was an ‘innocent Muslim’ (And since when do innocent Muslims shoot dead policemen? I have several Muslim friends. I don’t recall the last time one of them succumbed to such temptation, frankly). Where are their declarations condemning these attacks? But of course, how could they condemn these attacks? These, remember, are the men who say that SIMI is a peaceful organization!

There are millions of thoughts that swirl in my head. Millions of questions. When our ‘secular’ politicians fear that they will lose Muslim votes if they condemn terrorists, aren’t they effectively labeling the community themselves? Doesn’t that amount to identifying the community with terrorism and linking the two inextricably?

Doesn’t the common Indian’s life count for more than the fear of a stinking polity? Will any politician ever lose his life to a terrorist? Or have they bribed the terrorists and established a no-interference agreement? Even if one was to lose his life to a terrorist, would it really change anything? Will India ever be more than a soft target?

The ATS clearly failed us. They were too busy in their Congress-led witch-hunt to worry about the real terrorists. The establishment failed us. By bowing to the wishes of the terrorists and failing to have an anti-terror law, they left India open to attacks such as these. But most of all, the people of India failed themselves. By electing to power a party as spineless as the Congress, we ensured that our so-called guardians were not just incapable but uninterested in ensuring our security.

Will we right this wrong? For let us be in no doubt. The ultimate fault is ours. We are the ones that vote. Will the Indian population see the folly of voting for the Congress?

There are some clear steps that need to be taken immediately:
- Hang Afzal
- Admit that there are indeed Indian outfits that are actively indulging in terrorism in the name of Islam.
- Crack down vigorously on each outfit and/or individual that defends terrorists or their ideology. That should include the Shahi Imam of the Jama Masjid as well as Lalu, Mulayam, Amar Singh, Karunanidhi and others of their ilk.
- Re-introduce TADA or POTA or an equivalent law. Something on the lines of the Patriot Act too would not be amiss.
- Re-introduce the ‘encounter’ system

But even before that, for any or all of these to happen, there is an albatross that India must finally jettison - the ‘secular’ tag. It is this tag that has ensured that Lalu, Amar and Mulayam were not condemned for openly defending a terrorist and for proclaiming the peaceful and secular credentials of an openly fundamentalist terrorist organization.

It is this tag that makes each political party oppose an anti-terror law saying that it is misused and targets minorities. Is it the law’s fault if more terrorists hail from one community than the rest?

It is the ‘secularism’ tag that ensures that people send SMSes that read as below (I received this over a week ago. Before yesterday’s events):
“Afzal ko Maafi, Sadhvi ko faasi,
RSS par Pratibandhan, SIMI se anubandhan,
Amarnath Yatra par lagaan, Haj ke liye Anudaan,
Waakai, mera Bharat mahaan”.

The albatross of secularism was perhaps best summed up by a very moderate friend of mine who said the other day, “I’m not secular, you see. I am a Hindu”. I know of several who now believe that this is the establishment’s way of looking at the country.

I know that people will call mine a knee-jerk reaction. I however, do not accept that. I accept nothing less than the knowledge that I can walk the streets freely and without fear. I accept nothing less than a government that I know will, if not pre-empt, at least punish those that act in such a dastardly manner. I accept nothing less than a leadership that does not leave me ashamed of my country’s handling of such crises. I accept nothing less than a country that is finally rid of its tag as a soft target.

I don’t think any of us should accept anything less than that. People say that tough measures will result in collateral damage. But it’s time to ask ourselves whether that damage would not be preferable to the repeated and far greater damage that our inaction is causing and shall continue to cause...

In Mars We Trust - XII

2008-10-20T03:14:00.000-07:00

As in every other facet of life, I believe that there is no clear black and white in the field of lying and that there are degrees of lies. Now we men swim through, in our lifetimes, a virtually incessant stream of lies. Starting from the time some weird nurse or doctor or – if you were more fortunate – midwife, picked you up as an infant and actually refrained from telling all around just how abominably ugly the new arrival was, life and the various actors in it keep the momentum going.

Now, without getting into a blow-by-blow account, let me just say that I do believe that most of these lies are – in the eyes of the assorted liars at least – harmless. Like when your parents tell you that you can’t have a video game because they love you so much that they would rather you actually speak to them rather than lose your soul to the Nintendo. Or when they tell you that beating people up is bad and that little boys who fight will go to Hell and will not actually get rewarded with the ice-creams of the victims. Or when they try to tell you that getting into a good Engineering college is the last time you will actually have to work hard and that life will be like sex on toast after that.

Nothing that a man encounters in his constant battle for the truth though, quite matches what he is subjected to by the women that attempt to ensnare him. Women, in my opinion, are not just consummate liars, but are colour-blind too. Not to mention their being the truest and purest sadists ever. How else do you explain anyone making the statement “Pink is the new blue”? How on Earth can pink be blue? Quite aside from the obvious difference between the two, pink is – without wanting to sound homophobic or anything – completely and indubitably gay!

Women these days seem to just yearn to buy their guys some pink shirts and I can’t for the life of me imagine any well-wisher buying the object of those wishes anything pink in colour, particularly if the object in question happens to be male. Can you imagine any woman wanting her man to look like David Furnish (I just googled up his name and will not tell you who he is. Google it yourself!)? The only other category such a person would fall into would be an African-American rapper or a pimp or doped elephant! And then they try telling us that it’s because pink is the new blue! Surely even the most lovelorn idiot should be able to tell that as a blatant and image-threatening lie! Pink is blue? Can you imagine the NYPD traipsing around the city wearing shocking (in more than just colour) pink uniforms? Unedifying thought, eh?

However, I digress. The point I was making, before the aforementioned digression, was about the lying, which was meant to lead up to the point that it finally has led up to which is that women consistently and unfailingly – not to mention unflinchingly – manage to say things that they themselves do not truly believe! As an example, how many women do you see wearing pink shirts to office as compared to blue ones? In my experience, it’s the blue that the women themselves prefer to wear, while guffawing in delight at all the poor unsuspecting victims of their “new blue”.

The worst of this duplicity though is seen when women start describing the kind of qualities that they want in their men. For example, every woman starts off by stressing just how much she hates and detests the possessiveness of her ex-boyfriend and how she just yearns for a man who will let her be her own person. Well, we all know how that turns out, don’t we? The first step is the complaining of the “insensitivity”. It’s what I call the “You don’t care about me” stage. It’s a lose-lose for the guy of course (as is every situation involving both genders simultaneously, unless there’s sex at the end of it all). If you ask whom she is out with, for example, you’re liable to be told, “Aaaah! Jealous are we? I won’t tell you who I’m out with! They’re just friends!” On the other hand, follow your instincts and continue to watch the match and don’t ask and you get the classic, “You don’t care about me at all, do you? You don’t even care who I am going out with!!!”

This stage extends till the woman decides she’s met a guy whose looks+money score is higher than that of her present companion at which point the present companion is either labeled as over-possessive or insensitive, depending on whether or not he asked her where and with whom she was on the various nights she spent scouting the town for the guy with the highest looks+money score who was interested in her. Women, as you can tell unless you’re blind or single, are quite adept at getting the best out of any situation. They even got the Creator into a corner and made him give them exclusive rights over headaches and “that time of the month” to avoid unwanted sex…

Now, a load of women I know, stress that they can’t stand men who are not decisive. They would like, they claim, to have men who make decisions and who do not allow the woman to make all the decisions. Now, this, as any man would willingly aver – apart from the men who are now hopelessly caught in a woman-woven web of duplicity and deception – is the biggest load of bunkum ever spoken since the time that Hitler spoke of his great love for all things Jewish. It all dawned upon me a few days back in the most ironic circumstances:

P: I really liked him and we were really perfect together. Everything was just so perfect, but there was nothing to be done. We just could not have survived together.
Me: Umm…pardon my asking, but does not the word perfect seem to suggest that there was nothing wrong, thereby implying that…
P: Shut up! You idiot, I obviously meant that we were just incompatible!
Me: But you just said you were perfect!
P: No, no! I said everything was perfect and it was (Typically irrational woman-speak, as you can see) except that he used to allow me to make all the decisions!!!
Me: Ah! So that is why you liked him so much, eh? I always wondered how…
P: NOOOOO! You really are stupid, you know? I can’t stand men who allow me to make all the decisions. It shows that they don’t have a mind of their own!!!
Me: What? Are you – the consummate control freak, if there ever was one – telling me that…
P: Shut up, I tell you! I am not a control freak! Anyway, I told him that the only way it would work out was if he was a bit more decisive. And he called it off…
Me: Well, you can’t argue with that being decisive!!!
P: You are so irritating!

Now, take me out to lunch.Now, this, I must admit, was where I decided to be decisive. You know how every one of us has these urges at times to try breaking down a brick wall…

Me: OK. Let’s go to the ‘Devil’s Kitchen’ in Ptolemy’s Gate compound then.
P: No! I don’t like that place.
Me: Hmm…what kind of cuisine do you want then? (She’d got me to start wavering already!)
P: You know how I hate people who can’t decide! You decide!!!
Me: OK. We go to ‘Flyover’ then. That’s pretty close too!
P: No. I just went there last week. Why can’t you decide on something nice like ‘Caravan’???
Me: (completely missing the hint in the last sentence) OK, so how about ‘Carlos’’ then?
P: You’re so useless! Please decide fast now! And some NICE place. And I don’t care which one you decide. Just something nice. So, where are you taking me?
Me: ‘Caravan’?
P: Oh good! I like that place. See? I love guys who can make decisions…

Women, you see are consummate manipulators who believe that the ends more than justify the means. That’s why Elizabeth Bathory was a woman! You wouldn’t ever hear of a man called Elizabeth Bathory after all, though of course, the name has nothing to do with my assertion here. If you look at that conversation above, it should be obvious though what women do really want from their men. They want men who will make the decisions that they want them to make. Unfortunately though, women often underestimate the high IQ levels of us men. Women, you see, would like to kid themselves along with the notion that they allow us to make the decisions that they want and that we know nothing of this devious intent of theirs! I have however, devised a way to countering this, which I shall elaborate at length at some not-so-distant time (I hope). Till then though, I shall leave you with an exchange that both proves what I have said about women trying to manipulate us and also formed the beginning for my counter-attacking strategy…

S: So, can we have that wall painted pink then?
Me: No.
S: But it would look so nice!!! OK, you decide what to paint it then…
Me: Fine. We’ll paint it the same colour as the other walls.
S: No!!! That’s so boring. It has to be a different colour. Now you decide which colour.
Me: Umm…black!
S: No! No, no, no! Anything but black!!!
Me: OK then. Ash grey!
S: You’re making me cry now!!!
Me: Awww… OK then, let’s just do it…umm…cream!
S: What? But that’s the colour of the other walls!!!
Me: Yeah well, maybe we could have it a single mini-shade different then…

Sometime between the time we spoke and the time I found my underwear, she got me to agree to paint it “blue”… I promise you though. The moment I put my finger on just what it was that undid me, I'll have the solution in my hands...

PS: Please do not set the hounds on me for the truly dreadful innuendoes in the last line. I vow to try harder next time.

Binges, Trees, Pornstars and An Irate Mom

2008-04-29T05:57:00.000-07:00

The incidents that I am about to narrate in my own flawed and often meandering and boring manner, concern Wastrelius, a person I consider to be a close friend (although I know not how friendly he will be after this post) and one who has provided me with a fair few reasons to smile, some of which are of course, mentioned in the narrative that follows. For reasons that will soon be obvious though, I am unable to propose a toast to the man…

A single glance at Wastrelius would enough to inform all but the most innocent of observers that he is anything but a connoisseur of liquor. A gut that he needs to actually hold up to avoid friction with the Earth below shows all too clearly that nobody remembered to teach him in his impressionable years that the shapely figures that he clasped so joyously were to be caressed and not ravaged, specially when they bore the “44% V/V” legend. Of course, the law of mass and gravitation ensured that the two of us have been close pals for a fair while which gives me the authority to state quite conclusively that this was a man whose low tolerance for alcohol had no impairing effect on his consumption of the Divine Spirit.

And so it happened that ensconced in a hostel that consisted of inmates with a similar love for the bottle, albeit without Wastrelius’ low tolerance levels, it was not an infrequent occurrence to see Wastrelius in the company of Misera and Rajrotter, straggling across the roads at night asking innocent bystanders if they’d seen their underclothes flying by. It was on one such night that I noticed that Wastrelius looked rather more bogged down by internal worries than was the norm.

Wastrelius you see, was one of those souls that it was hard to hold down and I don’t just mean that literally. Given the fact that years of experience had taught him that the only shapely and curvaceous forms he would be permitted to clasp to his ample bosom were perforce the ones made of glass, nothing life could throw at him could contrive to make him blue, apart from a forced abstinence from the bar counters.

Given the circumstances therefore, I was naturally more than a mite concerned and began my endeavour to understand what was troubling his ‘chicken’-brain. “What’s up, Fatman?” I asked conversationally, only to have my head almost bitten off. “What’s the matter with all you morons?” he bellowed? “Can’t anyone talk in this place without being rude to me? Why does everyone always want to fight?”

I decided, I thought wisely, to turn to Misera for an explanation about the decidedly strange demeanour of the normally placid pachyderm. “Oh, he’s alright. Just a tad peeved at the fact that Building was slightly rude with him. Refused to carry his guitar case for him, would you believe it?” Misera told me. “But, he’s not carrying his guitar case,” I replied. “Oh! Don’t say that, you blot on the landscape. That’s exactly what Building told him and that’s what upsetting the bloke!”

It was at about this point that we heard emanating from the brush behind us, sounds of a skirmish with an unmistakable voice bellowing with rage. Noticing that the owner of the voice was nowhere to be seen – an unusual event in itself given his none-too-easy-to-miss size – we were naturally perturbed enough to head into the brush and investigate further. There he stood, facing a large black form.

“You bastard! Why the fuck are you being rude to me, eh? What’s the matter with you?” I’d have been completely on Wastrelius’ side, had it not been for the fact that the large form before him –which was several times W’s own size – was showing no inclination to respond verbally or physically. “Answer me, you c*nt! You *&%^$@! Take that!” and Wastrelius swung out a meaty right. I was about to start off to help him out and explain to him that the form was not responding solely because it was rooted to the spot and had branches and leaves protruding from it’s trunk, when I perceived Misera breathing heavily standing next to me.

“Let it be, dude. I know how to handle him” he whispered to me and I began to thank my stars that the unfolding events seemed to have brought him down more than just a couple of pegs, pun intended. He proceeded then, with great determination to walk up to Wastrelius, take him by the arm and lead him aside with a curt, “Let me handle this, my friend. Let me take care of this.” “He was rude to me,” panted Wastrelius, who seemed clearly to be exhausted with the recent skirmish having actually thrown four punches and even aimed a couple of half-hearted kicks at the enemy.

“Yes, I know,” said Misera as he turned to the offending tree. “Why the fuck were you rude to my friend, huh? Answer me! Why can’t you answer, you son of a bitch?” screamed Misera as he began pounding the tree with vicious rights and lefts that left no doubt in my mind that the health of his knuckles was not really the highest priority for him at that point in time. I felt distinctly alone standing there as I seemed to be the only one missing out on the fun. So, I lumbered off, leaving them to fight their own battles while I headed off to find my own bottle of joy…

Barely a day or two after this evening, I found myself at the ritual Saturday evening institute party. Yes, those very parties renowned for the invariable shortage of alcohol that would occur after 3 AM, regardless of the quantity that was started off with. I was feeling pleasantly chuffed I recall as I’d just conversed with Nicky who’d assured me she’d dance with me later in the evening as long as I could jog for 4 kilometers after drinking 2 jugs of vodka. While the possibilities of my getting a dance that evening were none too high by my reckoning, I thought myself justified in concluding that this was a distinct improvement on the last occasion I’d asked when she’d said she would consent only when I was down to 102 kilos instead of 120.

Humming pleasantly to the romantic tune of ‘Unite the Dead’, I was therefore not upset to hear the rumbling that alerted one of the approach of Wastrelius. “They’re playing crap music,” he bellowed. I wasn’t upset one bit at the bellowing mind you. Wastrelius you see had been a technician for a heavy metal band as a young man and as such was used to having to bellow to have himself heard over the sound of twin guitars. The experience had affected him deeply as he had never quite adjusted to speaking outside the environs of rooms where two guitarists were duelling with each other – musically that is, of course.

“Let’s get him to change the music,” he continued and I, in complete agreement with his sentiments accompanied him in walking across the room to the DJ’s table hoping to have a quiet word with the chap. What transpired of course was a mite different as Wastrelius stopped a few yards before the table and began shouting loudly. Even by his standards, which were quite loud as a norm, as I have just explained, he really was roaring now. “You c*nt! Play some decent fucking music, damn you! I said play Cannibal Corpse! At least play Deicide mother****er! I’m going to pour vodka on your system now!” I felt it my duty at this point to prevent Wastrelius from making a scene of me and therefore holding him firmly by the arm, I led him to the opposite side of the hall while he continued bellowing.

Of course, I needed a bit of help and by the time we were halfway through our journey there were four of us, resembling I am sure, flies trying to divert an elephant from his chosen path. It was here though that events took a turn that made me wonder if perhaps we may have been better off with Wastrelius screaming at the DJ instead. Spotting the female closer to his size than any I have ever had the misfortune to see, Wastrelius made a beeline for her. “You’re a pornstar aren’t you?” he queried. “Wastrelius, we really should be getting away!” I exclaimed. “What did he say?” asked the lady in question. “Err…nothing. He just said you look nice and dance well,” I assured her while Wastrelius decided that having failed for once to make himself heard, he would try harder this time around. “She’s a pornstar I tell you! I saw her movie last night! She does awesome things dude!” I smiled weakly Nishuska and realised to my relief from her expression that she had either not heard him clearly or had no idea of what a pornstar was.

Wastrelius’ evening wasn’t quite over though. We managed with no little difficulty to get him outside the hall into the lawns and decided we needed a breather. Wastrelius seemed to have regained his balance somewhat, so leaving Misera to hold him, we let go for a minute. A loud crash a moment later made us turn around to find that Wastrelius had decided to do a volcano impression and had then promptly lost his balance after the sudden loss of weight and fallen face first into the ‘lava’…oh wait, not face first really. He made a cushion out of Misera…

While this would normally have deterred Average Joe from drinking for the next few days, Wastrelius is by no means your Average Joe which made it a tad surprising when, upon inviting him for a party in my room, he told me he’d turned into a teetotaller.

“It can’t be dude! What happened? The pornstar turned you off that much?”
“Umm… No, not really. Bastard, don’t tell anyone about that please. It’ll ruin my reputation!”
“Uh, what? Oh c’mon. It was just funny dude!”
“No way dude! It was embarrassing! That was Nishuska! I mean, blech! And anyway dude. That never happened!”
“Eh what? You just said you even know who the girl was!”
“True. But it didn’t happen dude! You guys are just making it up!”
“Bah! Liar! Though I am sure you don’t recall the incident, so let’s allow that pass for now. Getting to the issue again then, what on Earth could wrench your beloved from your hands dude?”
“It’s sad maan. Dude, my parents call me every night ok. I mean, I’m the only kid, apple of their eyes and everything and so they call me every night at ten. Well, last night, I was at another party and for once, I started drinking at nine and forgot to switch off the phone.”
“Uh-oh. So you had to ignore her call when your mom called?”
“Umm… Well, I was high enough to not realise it was her and the conversation, well, was kind of, umm… emotionally draining, to be honest”

This is the transcript of the conversation as reported by Wastrelius and confirmed by those who were present:

W’s Mom: Tinku! How are you?
W: I’m gooooood. Verrrrry good… Who’re you?
W’s Mom: Heh heh! Nice nice. Enjoying yourself, beta? Where are you?
W: IIM Lucknow…
W’s Mom: Heh heh! Very funny. OK. Where are you?
W: Off Sitapur Road… Who are you?

:SLAM:

I don’t blame the bugger…

Wastrelius, I know you won’t join me in this one, but really, I propose a toast… Cheers!

Dreams Undreamt and Final Words

2008-04-15T11:58:00.000-07:00

Born to a world blind in belief,
Born with a wish that I could see,
Tamed by the times, a civilization breathes,
While I yearn for the air of the seven seas
Flustered and sweating, with time running short,
They call out to me as I stand by and watch,
Why do I feel they’re the ones left behind,
I’m just drifting away somewhere in time

Clinging to visions that haunt and strike fear,
Too familiar with fear to let go of the scare,
Fighting with outcasts and closing upon selves,
Cloaking the emptiness with nakedness and air
Striving to reach out, building their own walls,
Efforts to nothing when death’s on His way,
Riding alone in groups of made of millions,
Each one a minion, the same as the rest

Whispers are passions, a call unto no one,
A sermon all that’s needed to paint lands red,
Deriding the bystander, horses getting higher,
When was my joke turned into your prayer?
Their running gets faster and eyes close tighter,
My stillness still gets me further away from the race
Would you still hold me and tell me it’s all right,
Or will I lose even my closest friend?

The boy knows not for what he yearns,
Trying to please all the blind men that guide,
Lives spent in vain or in glorious reflection,
Aware of but little, but so wise as to decide,
Blissfully holding the boy to their own dreams,
Every road thronged these kinsmen born damned
There was a time when the mind ran free,
Now dreams are bounded; there’s nowhere to hide

The young man, he dances for those departed,
While praising the fires that consume the live,
Macabre motions while crawling down the heights,
That overlook those that embodied the strive
Scream while I sit here move closer to nowhere,
Aging not one day while years me by,
Laughing in madness at your desires,
That cause the insane to sit down and cry

Every tear unshed, every unrealized fear,
Every minute unlived while walking the line,
Desires fulfilled while life feels so empty,
Dreaming for the young boy his own successful life,
How do things end when they never begin,
What price a dream when someone knocks on the door,
Where live a life punished for unwilling treason,
Committed by an old man who’s dying once more

Maybe I should not have been alive,
Or maybe I should have felt pain,
When I tell the truth and contemplate the lie,
And when I know I’d do the same again,
The flame that burns; that ebbs and dies,
It wasn’t meant to be for we all die,
They chant as one; they’ll die as one,
But will anyone remember their lives?

Woooo...

2008-04-15T01:06:00.000-07:00

As I have alluded to in a Mars post (which of course reminds me that it’s been ages since I wrote one), people often mock my fondness for professional wrestling, questioning how I reconcile that fondness with my extreme displeasure over expressions of a Low IQ. Quite frankly, I believe that a person who belittles pro-wrestling quite clearly has no knowledge of the same and is therefore exposing his or her IQ as being low by belittling the sport.

A couple of weeks ago, the WWE held WrestleMania and the night prior to that was their Hall of Fame induction ceremony. Skipping over the non-essentials, I just saw excerpts of the acceptance speech given by Ric Flair, the first ever (and probably last ever, too) active wrestler to be inducted into the pro-wrestling HoF. It was quite an experience to say the least.

Seeing the whole hall rise to their feet for the man and then see that not a person had a dry eye in the entire place was an edifying experience. Seeing wrestlers and fans across age groups stand up to applaud the achievements of the greatest of them all was something to savour. Seeing a 7-foot tall man (Paul Wight aka the Big Show) blubbering and crying like a baby when Flair said it was an honour for him to have wrestled Big Show was stirring. Just as stirring was to actually realize that even after a speech that lasted an hour, those who saw it aver that they still wanted him to go on speaking.

As Paul Levesque (otherwise known as Triple H) stated, while introducing Flair, “people say that Ric Flair is arguably the greatest wrestler ever, but we’re all still waiting to hear the argument.” The man inspired most present-day wrestlers. He revolutionized the way mic-work was perceived and was the best mic-worker ever. His promos are the stuff of legend and his career – all 36 years of it – is studded with more landmark promos and 5-star matches than the rest of pro-wrestling combined.

(Let’s face it. No promo ever will come close in tone, wording or emotion to the near-shoot promo that Flair did when he tore into Bischoff (The ‘It was real damnit!’ promo) and nobody will ever forget the line, “To be the man, you gotta beat the man”. And his in-ring wrestling was classic too. As a famous wrestling commentator said, Flair and Steamboat (Ricky ‘The Dragon’ Steamboat) could have put on a classic on one leg with both their arms around their backs and drugged! And for Flair to then move seamlessly from that era to the current one where wrestling is more about kicking and punching is another pointer to his greatness. There seemed to be nothing he could not do…even at this age. Look at his Ladder match with Edge as an example, or his street fight with Triple H!!!)

Then, at WrestleMania the following night, Ric Flair wrestled the last match of his 36-year career. Once again, he belied his age with a match that was probably the best of the night. On a night that featured Triple H in a World Championship match, Undertaker and Edge in their Championship match and the awesome 7-man Money-in-the-Bank Ladder match, this was an achievement in itself, but it was hardly surprising, given the man that is Ric Flair. Special mention also to Shawn Michaels for working that match to perfection, but for a 59-year-old man to pull off a match like that? Divine.

The following night’s RAW (which aired last night in India) was something special too. The last 20 minutes were the Ric Flair farewell and what an experience it was. When Flair’s address lasted only a couple of minutes, you knew there was something special that was going to follow and for once, WWE did not let us down. When Triple H walked in, I expected him to have a block-buster statement to make and boy, did he or did he! We saw some of the most awesome scenes I can remember in a ring. Sorry, the undisputedly best scenes ever seen in a ring.

Seeing the original Four Horsemen walk out (without Ole Anderson of course and with Barry Windham), followed by Dean Malenko, another Horseman who featured in the next generation of Horsemen was a pleasure. Perhaps the best moment for most smarks and aficionados was watching Ricky ‘The Dragon’ Steamboat walk in, of course. Then there was Harley Race. Watching Shawn Michaels (the man who ‘retired’ Flair in the storyline) walk out and hug Flair and burst into tears was touching, but the real scene-stealers were yet to come. Triple H started it off when he went down on his knees and bowed to Flair. The crowd stepped in with the ‘Thank you Ric’ chants. Then each and every wrestler on the roster walked out and the entrance ramp was crowded with bodies as they stood there and applauded and chanted ‘Thank you Ric’.

There were only a couple of things that could – perhaps - have been better. The first was that despite the fact that Orton is a heel at the moment and may have been booed, he really should have been in the ring, introduced as the others were and not in the crowd that came out together in the end. The second was that John Cena should not have been in the former category. Orton was part of Evolution, Flair’s last great faction and a man who was elevated to the top (along with Batista, who was introduced as the Evolution stable-mate and was in the former category) thanks to that association with Flair. John Cena never had any storyline association with Flair. Still, I guess the WWE did that to avoid any booing and they may have had that down right.

It was something else to see the top heels, Edge and Orton standing at ringside and see tears flowing freely down their faces. I don’t think there was a dry eye in the arena. There were grown men in the audience who were weeping. Flair was weeping as he hugged his family who were introduced to the ring after the Horsemen. After RAW went off the air, Vince McMahon walked down to the ring too.

It wasn’t a soppy scene. Oh no! This was a landmark moment and I couldn’t help wonder what Flair felt like, standing there and seeing all that respect and all that adoration. How many of us get to experience that as we leave? Most people just fade away and become dim memories, if even that. Only the rare and really special experience the exhilaration that Flair must have felt.

For most of us, a farewell will probably comprise of a token watch, a short speech by our bosses and perhaps a small drinks party with close friends. Contrast that with the scenes I mentioned (and trust me, I have skipped a fair bit). You get to see multitudes of people thronging the funerals of famous people, but that’s when they’re gone!

Started wondering what I could ever do to experience the feelings that I mentioned. I don’t really think there is anything. Most of us don’t have the gumption that is needed. In 1975, after a plan crash doctors told Flair, he’d never wrestle again. I wonder what they think now…

For those of you who don’t watch pro-wrestling, perhaps you could try catching a re-run of the RAW episode I mention to understand what I am saying. For those who do follow pro-wrestling, missing this would be a crime. And go ahead and buy the WrestleMania DVD when it comes out. I’ve seen excerpts of the HOF ceremony and can assure you that it’s a must-have. And you can imagine what a speech it was from Ric that nobody mentions the speech that Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson made at the same ceremony!

Think about it. What wouldn’t a person give to be in Flair’s position? Pro-wrestling may not be something that the masses take seriously; the pseudo-intellectuals may deride it as ‘childish’; the authorities may criticize it for ‘portraying brutality’, but for me, the entire WrestleMania weekend and the RAW that followed it reinforced once again just how wrong these people are.

So, thank you Ric Flair. Woooo!

Binges, Hangovers, Trees and a Preet Parayee

2008-04-09T10:56:00.000-07:00

It’s been a really long time since I blogged – something I realized only when I read a comment that expressed surprise that my blog was still active. Not that I can really call it active I guess given the length of time that I’ve been inactive in the blogging sense of the word, but hey, let’s not get all caught up in the semantics of the situation – if that is what I mean to say.

Was flying KF the other day and the movie channel happened to be showing a flick called Dhamaal which is a blatant rip-off of the excellent Rowan Atkinson starrer Rat Race (which is a must-watch in my opinion and co-stars Whoopi, Cuba Gooding Jr, John Kleese and others). Anyway, a scene in the movie involved one character driving his car straight into a tree and that really reminded me of an incident that happened with me once way back in a time and place that seems to be covered in that ever-so-romantic mist of cobwebs and dust…sorry, memories and lust…err…you get the picture!

That reminds me rather that I need to provide a smidgen of background here perhaps. It was my second year of Engineering in the God-forsaken place I describe and while I grew to love it immensely later, this was the time when the sole benefits of the place were that I was free from the shackles of home and had an illegally-acquired credit card. It was a combination of my realization of my new financial responsibilities and the credit card though that had probably resulted in my state of pecuniary bankruptcy. I am convinced to this date that this was only because the restaurant I frequented had realized for some reason that my signature did not match completely with that of my uncle, whose card it was, but some people I know believe that it may have had something to do with the fact that my uncle had been dead for the last four years and the card had expired well before even that sad passing.

Anyway, I awoke this particular mid-afternoon with the mild remnants of a hang-over of the sort that afflicts those that stay up on a 7-hour long drinking binge. One of those mild affairs that involve your feeling like a highway stone-breaker is trying to hammer his way out of the confines of your skull on both sides and is using a pointed axe for the purpose. While I do acknowledge that this vision may test the imagination of a few, I trust that it has done the job of conveying what I intend to convey.

That apart though, I felt as fit as any hung-over drunkard with a combined financial fortune of Rs 200 ever can and decided that this would be the day I traveled to the city (which had a massive population of 50 thousand people I reckon, though one would hardly have suspected that, given the emptiness of the streets after 3 in the morning) and purchase replacements for my stilts which were beginning to creak in an ominous way and also grace my friend’s place with my presence for lunch; the latter being the one of the few bright spots that a hosteler in an Engineering college in the backwaters of Jharkhand (though the place is the capital now) can possibly look forward to during that four year course in sycophancy and globe-spouting.

With these noble and charitable intentions in mind therefore, I set about the odious task of availing for myself the services of an auto-rickshaw, that three-wheeled monstrosity which cursed though it is by every motorist and pedestrian on the streets of Bombay, happened to bear an eerie likeness to manna from Heaven in the afore-mentioned backwaters of Jharkhand. After a bone-jolting 3 kilometer ride in a cycle-rickshaw which seemed to awaken an even bigger beast than I had earlier suspected to reside in that stone-breaker within my skull, I reached the highway and a couple of failed attempts at skirt-raising later (failed, only because I was not actually wearing a skirt and auto-drivers tend to be wary of drunkards hitching their jeans above their knees in an attempt to entice them to stop), I actually managed to get myself an auto; a feat that caused me to indulge in more than a little marveling at my unexpected and hitherto (and thenceforth as well, with the benefit of hindsight) undemonstrated skill at hailing autos and negotiating rock-bottom prices with them!

A few minutes later though and the man in my head seemed to die a sudden death. A death as sudden as the vanishing of the pleasant sleep that had begun to descend upon me with the rhythmic jolting of an auto traveling over gravelly roads. The auto-driver you see had turned around and was addressing me and even in my heightened state of drowsiness and despite the fact that I was reeking like a few dozen breweries, I had the whiff of a distinct and extremely strong smell of hooch – country liquor that is, for the uninitiated.

“Aap eehaa se nahi na hain?” he slurred. (“You’re not from here, are you?”)
“Err. Nahin”, I responded with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach (“Err… No”)
“Par hum to yahinye ke hain”, he leered (“But I am from this place itself”)
“Hmm… accha. Bhaiyya, zaraa road ko dekh ke chalao”, (“That’s alright, but please look at the road while driving”) I said, with the uncomfortable and growing realization that the chappie seemed to think I was some buxom beauty or something, given that he had not turned his face away from me since I had stepped into the auto – an observation that caused even my own dim brain to realize that he really could not have been looking at the road ahead, which being a national highway was populated with a far from negligible number of speeding trucks.
“Arre bhaiyya, oo sab to theek hai, par hamaara usool hai ki dil apna aur preet parayee”, he told me cheerfully. (“That’s all fine, but my credo is, dil apna aur preet parayee” – I am unable to translate this quite frankly)
“Bhaiyya, road dekh lo. Aage se truck aa rahi hai” (“Look at the road. There’s a truck approaching”).
“Arre, oo sab theek hai bhai-saab. Aaj main aapko daaru pilaoonga. Apne type ka. Aapke paas paisa nahi tha, aapne kahaa tha. Toh chaliye, aaj hum aapko pilayenge. Humaara usool hai ki dil apna aur preet parayee” (“Oh, that’s all fine, sir. Today I will treat you to liquor. My type of liquor. You said you were short of cash – I had said that while negotiating and was repenting that statement by the split second – so today I will treat you. My credo is dil apna aur preet parayee”)

The truck managed to avoid us despite the best efforts of the driver and I had realized that I didn’t really know what I fancied more: a crash and subsequent hospitalization and amputation of my foot-long lower limbs or surviving and having to accompany the lunatic to ‘his type’ of boozer!

“Bhaiyya, road dekh lo please. Dono ko marvaoge. Aage turn bhi hai” (“Please look at the road. You’ll get both of us killed. There’s a turn up ahead as well!”)
“Haan bhaiyya, zindagi mein bhi bahut turn hota hai. Isi liye humara usool hai ki dil apna aur preet parayee” (“Yes, there are a lot of turns in life as well, which is why my credo is dil apna aur preet parayee”)
“AAGE DEKHO!!!” (“LOOK AHEAD!!!”)
“Haan bhaiyya, isi liye, dil apna aur…” (“Yes, that is why, dil apna aur…”)

We went into a tree as the road turned and neither the auto driver’s head nor the auto itself happened to turn in keeping with the principle that vehicles should follow the road. As I opened my eyes, I saw that the windshield was smashed, the wiper was hanging like a grotesquely severed limb and the auto itself was at an uncomfortable incline with me back therefore at an uncomfortable angle.

“…preet parayee. Arre sala, ee ka hai? Kaun hai be?” (“…preet parayee. Hoy! What is that? Who is that?”), continued my decidedly sozzled and self-anointed would-be drinking mate.

As I crept out of the auto and tested with great trepidation, my ability to stand without support, I saw to my disgust that the chap was standing outside and remonstrating with the tree, “Ka ba? Ka dikhta nahin hai ka? Hum to bole the ki humra usool hai…” (“What’s up? Can’t you see? I had said earlier that my credo is…”) and that was when I left the spot…

Without getting into what follows, let us just leave things with the following as taken. I left the spot in a remarkable hurry and without actually paying the chappie a dime, which was fair enough I thought, given the circumstances. However, given the sudden revitalization of the bloke inside my head, who had seemingly only gone missing in order to fetch his army of fellow axe-wielders and my newfound knowledge that my knees were in fact made of a particularly wobbly kind of jelly, I decided to let laziness reign over necessity and wisely opted to hail a shared vehicle (known in those parts as a ‘trekker’ – a peculiarity that I shall describe in greater detail in a future post) that transported me back to the comforts of my room…

Needless to say, I never bothered bargaining with an auto driver again… And to be quite honest, I still don't know whether I was more relieved at being unhurt or at the fact that I had just escaped the prospect of a drinks session with the man...

Next stop? More on consulting as a profession, a Mars continuation and of course, more from the Engg classrooms…

Bi*ch!

2008-02-16T01:45:00.000-08:00

I don't understand some people. Like this lady in my complex. A week or so ago, I noticed a new dog with 6 pups in a corner of the garden in the complex. Was amazed at how they'd suddenly materialized. Then I discovered that the dog was a pet! A house dog who had a litter. Then the owner decided she didn't want any of these! So she just dumped mother and pups out!!! The mother obviously being unused to the open is now in the SPCA hospital with a broken rib leaving the pups (a month old at best) out in the open...

The erstwhile owner says with great magnanimity that she will "feed them till they can take care of themselves". As I said, I don't understand these people.

If you, or anyone you know wants a pup, please do contact me (Mike) on +91-9920251603. I'm attaching pics (the pups are far cuter than they appear in the pics though, trust me) of the pups below. Oh and yeah, the pups (and me of course) are in Bombay...

Karan Thapar - Dangerous...

2007-12-30T03:57:00.000-08:00

Karan Thapar has always been a detestable person. As a host on chat-shows, he believes his role is to minimize the air-time of the guest and to regale the viewers with his own squeaky voice and if possible he also endeavours to ridicule his guest, ending up making a mockery of his own self more often than not. However, I have always looked upon him as an immature prat more than anything else. Today however, he has ceased to be that in my opinion and has descended to the level of being an inflammatory terrorist who deserves to be charged and convicted.

“Only the sudden removal of Narendra Modi can stop this. For he is the agent forcing this change. And whilst he’s with us, he will do just that. I have no doubt Indian politics after Sunday the 23rd is another country. We have to live with new challenges. Some of us have to accept new leaders”, he says in an article in HT. If this is not a voicing of his wish that Modi be assassinated, I don’t know what it is. And if there is one thing I find detestable, it is when the media starts airing their own opinions and judgments rather than the facts as they are. This however, is dangerous as well. The media itself has now become a mouthpiece for terror and against the rule of democracy, humanity and law and order!

Is there no line that the media has to toe? Sonia Gandhi was hauled up for calling Modi a “merchant od death”. Modi was hauled up for justifying the killing in a fake encounter of a terrorist. But who will haul up this dangerous lunatic who is openly calling for a lawfully elected CM to be assassinated? It could only happen in India of course. In other societies, such dangerous and inflammatory comments would be punished. In India however, the media seems to have transcended the law!

The ‘sting’ operation against the teacher in Delhi was reprehensible for the manner in which a reputation was murdered knowingly and willingly. Nothing has happened of course and I doubt if anything ever will. The ‘sting’ operation in Gujarat by Tehelka is another example. One of the people who the video featured has filed a case against the filmers saying that those people approached him saying they wanted a screen-test for a role they wanted to offer him. They handed him dialogues and he recited them. These are the dialogues the video shows and purports as being his boasting! The reaction of the chaps behind the ‘sting’? They seek anticipatory bail!!! Oh and yeah, they do not issue denials…

Way back during the Kargil conflict, Barkha Dutta ensured the killing of Indian soldiers as she openly described the location of the Indian base on Live television and also described how far off and in which direction the Pakis were shelling.

Then we have the DNA (newspaper in Mumbai) article written by a psephologist who said he was disappointed that Modi won the Gujarat elections despite the best efforts of the psephologists, pundits and journalists. By including his own ilk in that, he admitted brazenly that the predictions were rigged in an attempt to sway the electorate.

So, where does one get the facts? Benazir Bhutto, as we are all aware by now, was killed in a terror strike. Now, this is something that was condemnable. Terror in any form and against anyone is not something I can condone or justify. But, I do think that the Indian media seems to have gone crazy in the coverage that this event has been afforded! Benazir has been described as a warm person, the savior of democracy, the savior of Pakistan, the greatest Pakistani politician ever!!! She has also been described as a politician with a pro-peace tilt when it came to India. Oh really?

While I do not believe in maligning the dead (barring the Nehru-Gandhi breed), I find such blatant lies disgusting! Benazir was the politician who said she wished India death by a thousand cuts. She was openly in favour of terrorism in Kashmir and justified Paki backing for those terrorists. So much for her being pro-peace, eh? Then we come to her being ‘the greatest Paki politician’. She was elected to power twice. On both occasions, her government was DISMISSED on charges of corruption. Her husband was known as “Mr 10 per cent”. Why is no Indian news channel or newspaper reporting these bits as well?

There is apparently no will to report news or facts! The media featured a friend of Benazir’s talking about how there was a major wound caused by a bullet in Benazir’s neck which was such a major wound that it was still bleeding when they were bathing her body well after she was declared dead! Now, anyone who knows anything about death will tell you that after death, a body does not bleed!!! It is a biological impossibility as the heart is not beating. So, why has nobody picked on this fact???

The bottom line is that the media has gone dangerously overboard and needs to be reined in. We need laws to govern these people and we need the will in the political class to go against them when the situation warrants it. I believe the comments of Ravi Shankar Prasad blasting the media for ‘campaigning’ against Modi ‘rather than reporting’ were a step in the right direction.

It is time that the powers-that-be got over their fear of a media backlash and did what is needed to put the media in place and ensure that they do what they are supposed to. I also hope they do so before one of these dangerous psychos in the media causes bloodshed…

Good sense: 1. Media and P-Secs: 0

2007-12-23T02:09:00.000-08:00

The day so far has been absolutely phenomenal. I awoke this morning and switched on the TV and found Barkha Dutta looking as if she wished she were dead rather than on TV. A look like that on her face (or on the face of Srinivasan Jain for that matter) is a surefire boost to my spirit (and to the spirit of any right thinking person I should think), so you can just imagine how great the day has been when I say that since then, the day proceeded to get better every step of the way.

The Gujarat election this year has been unprecedented in my opinion in the manner in which the campaigning has proceeded. This election was never about the Congress campaigning against the BJP or about the Congress raising pertinent issues. It was about Modi talking about his achievements (which were many) and the Congress and the entire media embarking on a vicious, malicious and vile campaign to smear Modi, create a communal divide, defame Modi and endeavour to engineer divides even within the BJP. It was in effect, the media attempting to defeat Modi and install the ideologically bankrupt and morally corrupt Congress in power.

Just why the media attempted to do this is not something I want to argue about. But I do wish to counter in advance, those who will undoubtedly try to cry about how I am wrong and how the media is unbiased. I happen to have relatives who work in the media (both print and TV) for news channels/publications. They freely admit that each media outlet has an agenda and that they decide what spin they wish to give a story. Then, they portray it that way only and blank out anything that may inform the viewers about their bias. I can quote you an example.

I saw a speech made by Narendra Modi. He spoke for a total of 45 minutes on the development work that has been undertaken in Gujarat. He displayed figures to back his statements and spoke purely about the economic and social measures his government has undertaken. Then, in response to a question from the audience on what his thoughts were on Ram Setu, he said that the Central government was striking at the base of Hindu beliefs and as such, it was up to the populace to decide on how to vote. Quite fair, in my opinion. The next day however, there was only a single column in the newspaper on the speech. The headline read, “Modi raises Hindutva flag over Ram Setu” and the column spoke only about this issue. Not a word was mentioned about anything else he said.

For those who may be unaware, Modi has turned Gujarat into the leading state in India based on economic measures. There has been NO curfew or religious rioting in Gujarat since 2002. Every village in Gujarat now has uninterrupted electricity. Infant mortality (both of the mother and the child) in Gujarat is now the lowest in India. Literacy rates have shot up and the drop-out ratio is nearing nil. Foreign investment in Gujarat exceeds investment anywhere else in India. Errr… Even the Central Government in a move that was a HUGE embarrassment to Sonia Gandhi awarded Modi the Rajiv Gandhi Award!!!

So, why should people want Modi to lose? Why should he be vilified so much? The answer, as per the media, is that he is communal! He was responsible for the 2002 post-Godhra riots, the secularists (or pseudo-secularists) will tell you. Yet, these same p-secs are silent on the religious rioting in Congress ruled states! They are silent on the killing of 10,000 Sikhs in 1984. Rajiv Gandhi famously waved those deaths away saying that it was natural for the ground to shake when a great tree fell! When has Modi or anyone ever justified rioting in any manner, let alone such a callous one? What about Bombay in 1992 and 1993? I remember the Congress being in power in Maharashtra at the time. Why is the Congress not blamed for the riots? My own thoughts on the Gujarat government’s role in the 2002 riots can be best summed up in this article.

The fact is that the media and the Leftists are steeped in the pseudo-secularist rhetoric that has enveloped the ‘intelligentsia’ of this nation since Nehru’s time. That causes them to be illogical and rabid in their hatred of all that oppose the pseudo-secularist rhetoric or who question the ‘logic’ they claim to propound. Essentially, to not be pro-minority and anti-majority/upper-class (note, not unbiased, but clearly biased) is to be opposed to the p-sec rhetoric.

Let’s look at the reactions now to the Modi win. One school has said that this is Modi’s win and not the BJP’s. Ummm… Let me get this straight. Modi is a BJP leader and all his MLAs are BJP members. He was aided in his campaigning by the BJP. So, if he wins, surely the BJP wins? Moreover, every organization, whether political or corporate or social has a leader. Modi was the BJP’s in Gujarat. How is it his or the BJP’s fault if the Congress is too bankrupt to have a leader of any standing whatsoever, leave alone a standing to rival Modi’s?

Another reaction has been the media to say that Modi’s win is bad for the future of the BJP’s central leadership which will now be threatened. I’d love to understand why they believe that every party should be as bereft of leaders as the Congress! Surely it is commendable for a party to have multiple credible leaders!!! As Advani said, when any member of a family excels, the others congratulate him and revel in his success. Why would they dislike it?

Then of course there is Kapil Sibal. So rattled was he by the results that he said that “Madam meant the state of Gujarat” (Quote, unquote) by her ‘merchants of death’ jibe. Surely one can’t then blame the Gujaratis for voting against the Congress!!! I'd sue him if I were a Gujarati. How can anybody label the entire state like that???

Finally, there was the Congress jibe about how the BJP campaigned on the basis of ‘personality’ while the Congress has ‘never done that’ and has always fought on ‘issues’. A bit rich surely from a party that begged Sonia Gandhi to ‘save them’ and that in 2004, subjected the nation to the vision of MP after MP walking up to Sonia on the House of Parliament beseeching her to become PM as she ‘was the only reason for the Congress’ success’. How many non-Nehru-Gandhi PMs has the Congress given us? Oh and lest one forgets, the Congress stridently proclaimed to the nation that their ‘Brahmastra’ was ‘Rahul Gandhi!!! Oh wait! I can’t call that off the mark ;-). I mean, not even the biggest idiot on the block would accuse Rahul Gandhi of being in possession of a personality!!!

Finally of course, there is the contention of the media and of every pseudo-secularist in this nation that this is a victory for divisive politics and communalism. Oh yes? Every single time I have heard Modi or any of the BJP leaders speak, they have spoken purely of development and of the socio-economic indicators in Gujarat. The Congress on the other hand has repeatedly harped on Godhra (without mentioning the Hindu casualties of course), on the ‘communal’ nature of the BJP and of the killing of Sohrabuddin! So, who was indulging in divisive politics then? Who was it who used the ‘merchants of death’ moniker? Who was it who started calling Modi, “India’s Osama”? (This was Rajiv Shukla of the Congress lest you not know this).

Ultimately, this was a win for development and good governance over the forces of divisive politics and pseudo-secularism. It can be summed up by Kapil Sibal saying on NDTV that the Congress will now ‘study how the various communities voted’ to understand what to do next!

For those who differ with me on what I have said, I have for once, no better words than those uttered on this issue by Navjot Singh Siddhu. “It’s not the Sun’s fault if an owl can’t see in the daytime.” (Uttered as “Agar ullu ko din mein nahin dikhta hai, usme Surya Dev ka kya dosh?”). To wrap up, let me ask: Where were all the media-persons when people were shot and women raped in Nandigram? Where were Javed Akhtar and Teesta Setalvad then?

Thank God It's Over... Or is It?

2007-10-29T00:44:00.001-07:00

So the F1 season is over on the track, but not yet decided. Appropriate really, given the way the season has, literally and figuratively, unravelled. It should not really surprise anyone that McLaren has chosen to appeal the Stewards’ decision in the final race of the season and much though I wish I could deride the team for this, I really can’t find any logical reason to do so.

To recap – I love doing this – it all started in fairytale fashion for Raikkonen. Pole and victory in the first race was really the stuff that dreams were made of for him. Hamilton though, caught the eye as a driver for the future, or so at least, one thought, given the presence of double World Champion Alonso in the same team. The race while uneventful, had huge ramifications off the track.

This was the race when McLaren showed it’s possession of confidential Ferrari data when the team reported the movable floor device on the scarlet cars. It led to a modification and clarification of the rules and Ferrari and a number of teams had to change their floor design. While this is not a generally well-known fact (thanks to the amazingly biased British media) McLaren too was one of the teams that modified the floor design on the cars.

Without wasting too much time on race results, it suffices to say that McLaren and Hamilton were on the ascendant after Australia while Kimi suffered his usual luck with technical glitches and retirement. He as well as Alonso though, started facing something that neither was used to viz, team-mates who were outpacing them! Massa overtook Kimi in the standings and Alonso found himself trailing Hamilton. That of course was where the similarity ended as Alonso promptly threw all his toys out of the pram while Kimi chose to get along with racing. Not, mind you, that he is ever the most expressive, but surely the contrast is worth noting.

Ferrari continued to be dogged with reliability issues and also lacked speed on certain circuits (Monaco and Canada spring to mind as does Indianapolis) and both the team and their drivers slipped off the pace in the Championship tables but something else overshadowed all of this – Stepneygate of course. The spy scandal seems simple enough for all those that care to see it without wearing rose-tinted glasses.

McLaren as a team was in possession of confidential Ferrari data which they used to garner an unfair advantage. Let’s face it. Set-ups and fuel levels combined with pit-stop schedules are just about as good as information can get when you’re racing each other. McLaren therefore benefited as the team had not just these pieces of information, but also design details as well detailed information regarding the weight distribution of the cars.

This was where the FIA began shooting itself in both feet with a shotgun. The initial decision that held McLaren guilty of unsporting conduct but let the team off for “lack of sufficient evidence”, was farcical to say the very least. After all, how can the team be guilty if there is no evidence? And in the face of the evidence, how can there not be sufficient evidence to penalise the team when there is sufficient evidence to pronounce the team guilty?

Then of course, things got even worse. Mad Max shot his mouth off in the Press and went to the Court of Appeals which quite rightly held McLaren guilty and imposed a massive fine and also disqualified the team from the Constructors’ Championship. Now, McLaren’s decision to not appeal this vindicated the decision and showed that the team was only too aware of its guilt, but here too, the FIA goofed up. They decided to let the McLaren drivers retain their points saying that they could not be punished for the team’s crimes. This just increased the farcical nature of the judgment.

Can anyone really say after the e-mail transcripts that Alonso was not aware of the truth?
Can anyone say that Alonso or Hamilton turned in evidence thereby getting under the ambit of that exemption that the FIA promised the team members that did so?
Can anyone say that the team did not derive any advantage on the track from the knowledge that they had?

The answer to all these is an obvious no, so it’s quite clear that the FIA and Formula1 clearly had the commercial side of things in mind when reaching this decision. After all, the audience does not really care too much about the Constructors’ Championship. Most watch F1 for the Drivers’ Championship and this was the closest race in decades. So, the show went on and finished so memorably in Brazil of course. All done? Not quite…

McLaren has chosen to appeal the stewards’ decision to not strip the Williams and BMW drivers of their points. While this may seem like a childish and churlish response to Kimi winning what many see as a deserved Championship, one needs to look at this from the other perspective also. After all, what if this had been the first race of the season or the fifth for that matter; essentially any but the last. Would people still be accusing McLaren of being sore losers? I think not.

Also, once again, are the FIA and Formula1 administration just brushing things under the carpet to just bring an already chaotic and controversy-marred season to an end? How can the Stewards not have evidence in this matter? It is the simple matter of measuring temperatures! Surely in a sport as highly technologically advanced as Formula1 there can’t be too much doubt about temperatures! There are clear rules governing this aspect of the sport and like it or not, if a team breaks those rules, there needs to be a punishment.

Saying that a team should not be punished or should not appeal the lack of punishment in the last race is like giving the entire field a license to cheat in the last race of the season. Surely an avoidable scenario, this. The tragedy of the entire affair is that these drivers would very likely have finished ahead of Hamilton regardless and the result would still have been Kimi winning what I too regard as a deserved title, but that does not, sadly, change the facts.

My opinion? Well, the FIA would do well to take actions similar to the ones when meting out punishment to the McLaren team. Penalise the team the positions and let the drivers retain their places. It matches the amazing let-off the McLaren drivers had and also lets the season standing stay intact. Still, I regard this as a sad state of affairs in the sport. How can a team be guilty of benefiting from unfair methods and their drivers be let-off? A bad precedent to set for future seasons, but the FIA has only itself to blame for this situation today.

It’s the fans who lose in this, once again. F1 has lost a lot of credibility in this season. While the close race for the WDC kept the viewers tuned in despite the retirement of F1’s greatest driver ever, the off-track shenanigans have stunk to the high Heavens and barring another close season, F1 seems destined to lose fans whichever way the November 15th hearing goes.

The appeal can be summed up in Heidfeld’s latest quote, “We were not illegal, because we were not punished”, he has said. Quite. Just like the McLaren drivers then. “We were not illegal because we were not punished. Out cars may have been illegal (since they were punished) but hey, what do the cars have to do with our racing?” Ironic…

A last word on Alonso. One can’t help but feel that while he deserves a lot of the vilification he has had to endure, a lot of it has been undue. After all, he has indeed been the driving force behind the McLaren being a fast car this season and his contribution to Lewis’ success can also not be overlooked. Just look at what happened to Lewis when Alonso stopped sharing his set-up data! Out went the toys from the Lewis pram then… And remember too, that while signing him up, Dennis could scarcely have told him that he would be in the same team as a British driver who would be favoured by the team. Forget the British media and look back to Dennis’ statement about how “we were not racing Kimi. Our race was with Alonso”, and ask yourself if you would like being in a team that was literally fighting against you.

Alonso and Ron really do deserve each other in that sense. Both are childish and churlish and love throwing their toys out of the pram and wailing to the world about perceived atrocities against them…

The man who shone the most – apart from Kimi – this season? Undoubtedly Felipe Massa. Barring some reliability issues, he too would surely have been in the mix come Sao Paolo and one should not overlook the fact that for a significant portion of this season, he was ahead of Kimi in the standings. Surely a driver to look out for in 2008…

The Beautiful Game...

2007-10-25T00:58:00.000-07:00

Every once in a while, I start looking in a slightly more kindly way upon the Arses from London, yep, the ones managed by the aptly named Arse-ne Wenger (euphemism for Whinger). This season was one of those occasions. With them having got rid of the worst footballer I can recall – the Simian Ape ‘Terry’ Henry also known as ‘The Bottler’, ‘The Knob’, ‘The Excuse’, ‘The Invisible Man’ and ‘The Twat’ – I stopped detesting them as I used to and still believe that they have a good team of youngsters who can do better than they have done in the past.

The problem though, as always, is that the moment one starts thinking of them in a nicer way, their supporters – appropriately named the ‘Gooners’ and as big a bunch of Arses as you could ever hope to see – go and start crowing so loudly that you immediately see them for the Arses they truly are (and will always be, it seems). Take the last round of European games for example.

Arsenal beat a sorry Slavia Prague side (yes, I too asked that, “Slavia who???”) by 7 goals. Now, of course, the London-based press and every Arse fan in the world (yep, you can actually count them. Small club, after all...) are proclaiming them as the greatest team ever ever ever and are waxing lyrical about how this is a game that nobody will ever forget etc etc and how it’s one of the greatest football games ever ever ever… You get the picture.

Remember though, that this is the same side that crashed out against a woeful PSV side last season (which in turn lost to Liverpuddle, thereby giving you some idea of how poor they were to have lost to even that bunch of tossers). Man United of course, were busy thrashing a flying AS Roma with a 7-1 win!!! Why didn’t one hear the same strains at that time? Errr… Big club, big ambitions. We (United fans) knew that there’s nothing to these wins unless you go all the way and win the Cup. We didn’t. End of matter.

Bottomline? Well, a small club like Arsenal will always search for these rare wins to crow about (remember how they went on after beating Inter in that fluke?) while for a big club, these are routine matters. Like Real beating Barca 5-3, United thrashing Arsenal (at Highbury at that) 6-1 and so on… Hardly worth one’s while to get worked up about these things…

On the English League front, things are interesting albeit predictable. The Bin Dippers (Liverpuddle, in case you didn’t know that already) are of course on their patented path downhill. With a manager like Rifle Bunny-Toes, they really do need Clattenburg in 'charge' (though you could be excused for thinking that the ref at Goodison was someone in a red shirt) of their games. Can’t see them making the UEFA Cup spots without him to be honest. I mean, when you play Stevie Wonder as your midfield lynchpin, you don’t really give yourself much of a chance…

Chelsea, well, can’t see them going on a sustained title charge. Ten Cate will help them for sure, but there’s only so much he can do. They’ll still do well though. Lampard may be a real knob as a bloke, but regardless of what the press tell you, he’s better than Liverpuddle’s Stevie Wonder. He and Drogba along with Malouda should ensure that Chelsea finish in the top 4 at least.

Arsenal? Well, surprisingly, they are my pick for second spot. With 'puddle being as woeful as they are and Chelsea lacking the inspiration of Mourinho – and facing the spectre of the prolonged absence of Drogba and co for the ANC – they really just need to ensure that they don’t slip up too often to ensure that they finish clear of ‘puddle, Chelsea and the rest.

Manchester City are actually my pick for cracking into the Top 4. They have a class manager in Sven. I said it all along that the British Press really did not know what they were saying when they slagged off Sven. Bottom line is that he is a class manager who led a below-average bunch of over-hyped and overpaid inflated egos (the England squad) to greater success (the QFs) than they deserved and only really lost out when their ineptitude really couldn’t be masked tactically (in a penalty shoot-out, there’s really not much the manager can do if the players insist on shanking!!!). At City, he has got some excellent players in via transfers (Elano for buy of the season so far, anyone?) and has some good names coming through the ranks (Johnson has been phenomenal for them). With Sven at the helm and no European distractions, City could surprise a lot of people…specially with the implosion at Chelsea and the downward spiral of the Scum from Merseyside.

Manchester United now. They’re my pick for champions and I’m not just saying that as a fan. They have battled - and are still battling – a huge injury list from the start of the season and are still flying high and with the goals now beginning to flow, they are looking like an irresistible force: the only glimpse of class in the mediocrity that characterizes the Premier League. Their demolition of Villa (who have been good under MON) was just another performance that speaks of a growing assurance. Anderson and Nani have settled in well and while they are far from the finished product yet, they are still superior to what their opponents have to offer (the likes of Stevie Wonder, Alonso and company). With Hargreaves, Neville, Saha and co yet to return to action, United can only get better. Their clash with the Arse at Ashburton 'Grave' (I'll really miss the 'Highbury Library' chants...) should be a real test of an under-strength United team, but should they win that one, people will be forgiven for thinking that they will stroll to the title.

The relegation battle seems simple too really. Derby are certainly heading down I’d say and Bolton too. Bolton had a chance till a few days ago, but with Megson tipped to take charge there, there is no way they are staying up. I only wonder whether Anelka will move on in January or wait till the summer. For the third relegation spot, well, much as I’d love to say Fulham or ‘boro, I think it’ll be Wigan. They sorely lack any sort of quality and to top it off have an inept manager (Bramble for England? What???). Sunderland have a squad that really should never have made it to the Premiership and a squad that could so easily have gone down immediately, but I rather think that Keane will save them. He’s proven to be an astute and capable manager and I think he’ll literally drag the Black Cats to survival. It will be a lot tougher for him though if Jones gets injured…

My tips overall then?

1. Manchester United
2. Arsenal
3. Chelsea
4. Man City (How I hate to say this... Must wash my tongue...)

Relegation:

18. Wigan
19. Bolton
20. Derby

So there! Oh and yeah. Disclaimer: I can’t be held liable for any money anyone loses due to gambling on my predictions. I also refuse to be held liable for any notional losses people may sustain for not gambling on my predictions based on this disclaimer. Now go ahead and bet. Till I return with something on the sumptuous La Liga then, cheerio!

Of a Nation becoming a Senior Citizen...

2007-08-19T23:56:00.000-07:00

"Nation Turns 60", scream the headlines. I can't for the life of me think of anything as ridiculous as this assertion. What utter bollocks, poppycock, balderdash and complete tripe! So, am I to believe that India did not exist before 1947? Then there's the other stupid thing of saying, "Wish the Nation on its 60th Birthday". Huh? Birthday? Nations have birthdays? So what of those Indians born before that time? Older than the nation, are they? I'm getting confused…

It seems to me to be a sign of the utter hogwash that the Congress and pseudo-secularist Left have spread that most people seem to regard Independence Day as the 'Birth of the Nation'. How else do you explain a nobody like Mohandas being called the 'father' of the nation? To make it slightly easier to understand for those Congress and Gandhi apologists among you, how can you be the father of your motherland? Ridiculous, but that's the kind of tripe that the 'masses' today seem to believe in. 'Gandhigiri'… Sigh…

A sign of the abject depths the Indian media has plumbed was one the Aaj Tak headlines today. "Amitabh's 60. India is 60!'. What an honour for India, eh? Maybe it's just me, but it seems sometimes as if the powers-that-be in this nation (read: the Leftists that seem to own the 'academia' and 'intelligentsia' today) wish us to forget everything about the India that existed before 15th August 1947!

Don't get me wrong. I'm as happy as the next fellow on the street that India won her Independence and all of that. I also have nothing against celebrating Independence Day (though I do so detest the national anthem being what it is – a paean to a British monarch) and believe that we should take pride in the day and must make a show of it. But to proclaim that the Nation was 'born' as a nation on that day is preposterous.

I shall refrain from entering 'controversial' (read: the truths that the Left will not admit to) territory here and stick to 'accepted' (read: the stuff that even the Leftists can't deny) historical facts. Now, as per these, India was a rich and prosperous nation in all senses of those words. She had such material wealth that none could but plan on invading and looting her. She had a knowledge reservoir so vast that even centuries of Muslim invasions followed by centuries of British oppression – both of which actively attempted to destroy this reservoir – failed to come close to destroying it.

Now we have those that proclaim that India is only 60 years old… Err… So what was that land that existed before that day? Pukistanis would be entirely correct in saying that their excuse for a nation is just 60 years old, but India? I mean, on the one hand we proclaim that we have the most (or one of the most, if you go by the Left… They seem to think that the Arabs are an older 'civilization', whatever they mean by that) ancient civilization and culture. We boast about our heritage, our traditions and blah and blah and blah… I wonder how we reconcile that with being 60 years old as a nation…

Hey! It just struck me, but maybe what they mean is that we should forget that India existed at all before 1947! Now that sounds cool in a way! So, now, let me see. Out with reservations in India, since there was no oppression in India… The pre-1947 era was not India!!! It did not happen at all!!! Whoop-dee-doo! Also, out with that stupid Gandhi and his boy-toy Nehru! They didn't do anything positive after all! All that the former did was ask for Pukistan to be given some money for nothing and the latter just presided over the rack and ruin of the Indian nation, its foreign policy and economy… Oh and he started and then lost the China war while he was at it too… What Independence struggle? Whose Independence struggle? India didn't exist, so whose Independence are you speaking of?

The British Invasion never happened… It was prior to 1947, so if you think the British invaded your land, you couldn't be Indian as there was no India at that time… So let's also get rid of this silly Independence Day concept… Oops… You mean that's where we started? Waitaminit! I'm getting all muddled here. What was it that we wanted anyway?

Get it? Savvy? Now, I can already hear the apologists screaming out the Leftist rhetoric that 'India' as a nation did not exist at all! That there was just a bunch of what they so love to call 'princely states' that did not owe allegiance to anyone but themselves. Now, this is going to come as a bit of a shock to most, but I would love to ask these Leftists and pseudo-intellectuals a few questions, rather than embark upon a lecture.

1. If they had no allegiances, what was the concept of the 'Chakravarti Emperor'?
2. Where on Earth did the name 'Bharat' spring up from… It's been there since more time than is documented (and definitely aeons more than Leftist thinking, much though the pseuds will hate me for saying this)! So, umm… where and why did the name originate? Since the Leftists are going to hate that one, I'll make the question more palatable – Why was the name 'Hindustan' chosen by the Arabs for the land as a whole? Surely those infinitely-better-than-Indians Arabs had more brains than to lump together a disparate and disunited set of 'princely states' and give them one label! Or do the Left dare admit one of the two impossibilities for Indian Leftists? The first being that the Arabs weren't really smart at all and the second being that these 'princely states' did actually form one large nation... After all, decentralization and federalism must have started before the USA came up, eh? How's that for a Leftist dilemma?
3. All through history (including the history that the Left grudgingly accepts), why does every historian and traveller refer to India as just one land? This is not true of any other geography in the world. What made this particular 'group of princely states' unique if they were not truly one nation?

I could speak on this for hours. The sad thing though is that I know for a fact that nobody who reads this – apart from those that already believe this – will even think about this madness. As a wise man once said, 'There is none so blind as he who will not see!' So I've decided to come out with my own line of tees. Slogans will run as below:

- If Gandhi fathered your mother (India), where does that leave your family?
- Rename India, We should call it Kasturba now…
- The PM is a foreigner, he's older than the country!
- Sonia 'desh ki bahu' is 61. She's the 'bahu' of a younger woman…
(It'll be past December when these tees hit stores in a mall near you!)
Do message me more if you can come up with more… I think this could just be the new rage… Err… Rage against moi? Naah… Ow!

Oh and by the way, I wonder if anyone has yet told the Americans about how George Washington is the Father of their nation and how Churchill is really the father of France (His actions led to the liberation of France in WW2, didn't they?) and how Churchill and Eisenhower and some others are therefore the fathers of Austria and half of Europe… And how Indira Gandhi is really the Mother of Bangladesh…

Oh and there's more really. Maharashtra is younger than India, since Maharashtra's formation happened only later. So really, there is no such thing as Maratha history before 1960, therefore meaning that Shivaji really was not a Maratha hero. He was something else, don't ask me what exactly, but something other than Maratha. Is there a Leftist or pseudo-seccie out there who can explain this to me please?

Wet Knickers and Chysanthemums...

2007-07-06T03:32:00.000-07:00

Was directed by Father Murgi – Priest of the Wastrels (Sri Murgi Vella Swamy) to his latest blog post about, yes, you guessed it, his love for his name and the varied mutations it has undergone at the hands of the followers of the Dark Side, such as…well, such as everyone who knows him frankly. Which self-respecting bloke could ever resist having a crack at a name like that after all?

Not that I have been exempt from ‘name woes’, mind you. My surname is given to easy mutation and the worst of it is that the mutation – and there is basically just one – is never creative! It is simply, well, there! Anyway, I still think I get off quite lightly. After all, being a guy, there are far worse things that can happen to you than being called a woman’s undergarment! But there were so many poor souls who really had no such luck either…

Parents, you see, have this great yearning to name their children in the image of either what they truly love most… Or what they believe their children should be like…

And then of course, there are those who want their children to be advertisements of their own prowess at…well…child-bearing I suppose… The Goans and Mallus were quite exceptional in these fields I found out when in school. For all you Gults out there who complain about your names being the directions to reach your great-grandfathers’ birthplaces, imagine living with the names below. At least you chaps get away with initials!

Cinderella D’Costa: I don’t know if she slept in the cinders, but I assure you that she was constantly and cruelly assured that she looked as if she did…

Whiskey Chacko: With an elder sister named Brandy (spelt with a ‘y’), what chance was there of this being an accident? (All puns and insinuations fully intended)

Conception Dias: What did I say about the kid being an advertisement?

Aashik Pinto: Didn’t help having all those Hindi movie titles. Couldn’t have helped him with the women either. “Hi! I’m Aashik…”

Koshy Kosky Koshy and also Varghese Varghese… Do I really need to state the issues here?

Then of course, there are those names where you really can’t tell the name. I remember this chap introducing himself to my manager at an earlier organization I worked with…

“Sir, my name is Dixit Roy Mahidhara”
“Oh! So, don’t mind my asking, but is your surname Roy? Or Dixit?”
“Sir, my surname is Mahidhara…”

Not that initials always help of course. There was the curious fate of the man with an initial at the end of a perfectly normal-sounding name. Shrikant Kiran… How unfortunate then to have an initial ‘D’ appended to the end of that name… I wonder though, if it was merely evidence that someone in his family had a particularly sadistic sense of humour… As anyone can see, the most common question among people who knew him was, “Well then, who is Shrikant?” So much for being a Gult who did not have a roadmap substitute for his name…

Then of course, there was this chappie in my college called Pradeep Singh Brar. At the ‘Senior Hunt’, the clue for his name read, “His name is Deep; preceded by a Pra and succeeded by a Bra”. Ouch… Being a Punju didn’t help with the Pra bit either I guess…

I fail to understand though why people can’t be more considerate with their kids’ names. I mean, just lay off, please! You name us and that’s the beginning of the end. What about the fact that the kid is the one that labours through life carrying that insane burden? Imagine going through life with a name like one of those mentioned above.

I know that there’s nothing really that one can do with the surname, but surely you can be careful with the name you curse the kid with! I mean, Father Moogooran, Lord of the Wastrels, may have grown to love his name over time, but how can one live with being called Conception? Or, well, having your name denote your belonging to the oldest profession?

I know that people think the names are beautiful, but hey, if you’re toying with the idea of naming your kid Chunamani, please do think again. I know that the Southies think it’s an exquisite name, but for just a moment, think of what that name’s going to become on the playgrounds…

I swear I know a chap called ‘Virgil’. I mean, puh-leeze! Ban that name already. Others include ‘Chastity’ and ‘Purity’. Not to mention that I have heard of (not met, but heard of from a very reliable source) a person called…wait for it… Immaculate… Sigh… I wonder… Do they have a chance? (at whatever your twisted mind deems it fit for them to have a chance at ;-) )

Then of course, there is the matter of the part of the name that the parents really can’t do anything about. Like that prof who entered our class in junior college and sternly informed us that she didn’t like her name being ‘mutilated’. Unfortunately, turning Gulanikar to Geela knicker did not really involve any genius… Sigh…

And then there was the sad case of the guy named ‘Bhaiya’. Of all the luck he had…

So the next time you think of complaining that your name makes you the Lord of Wastrels or sounds like a roadmap, pause a tad and think of what could have been… As they say, ‘a chrysanthemum by any other name would be easier to spell…’

Of Vince's Death And Clients' Breath

2007-06-22T11:41:00.000-07:00

“Dude, Vince McMahon died dude. Did you see that? Bad dude…”

Huh? I mean, like, WHAT? Now I really have seen it all. The chappie who said that stuff to me was a 29 year old Engineer. Heck, he refused to believe me when I told him that the WWE was all fake. He actually believes that the little twit John Cena really does all that stuff and that the Undertaker really is what they show him to be and all that… And there I was thinking that guys learn about the WWE being fake about a year before they’re told that Santa Claus doesn’t exist… Just shows you how much I overestimate the IQs of my fellow humans…

Well anyway, this incident – happened yesterday in case you are wondering – prompted me to look back upon some of the time I have been working and recall all the stuff I have been forced to listen to over the past year that has been at such a level. Surprisingly, I find that there is an over-abundance of riches in this regard and that’s what has prompted me to jot them down here. The intent, quite honestly, is not to get a laugh, but to record these here and be able to read them later and laugh rather than bang my head against the walls and tear my already thinning hair out… Oh and yeah, none of this is doctored… It’s all written verbatim.

During client interactions:

V: M, in this field on this screen where it asks me to enter the coupon number, can I enter alphabets instead?
Me: No V. As it says there, you need to enter a number.
V: OK. But is it case-sensitive?

V: M, how could you miss out this feature in your design yaar?
Me: Miss out? You never asked for that at all!
V: Oh come on M. If I am expected to tell you everything I want, then what are you here for?

V: But M, while I acknowledge that you are right, I can’t accept what you are saying.
Me: But V, someone here needs to be logical!!!
V: Yes. But I can’t be.

Me: See, compare the Parent and Child Items given here with the values for the Child and Parent given in the other place and if they match then blah blah…
(2 weeks later, in the middle of chaotic scenes where the stuff is just not working)
Me: But what the Hell? Isn’t it made as I said?
R: Yes, I matched the Parent here with the Child there and the Child here with the Parent there…
Me: Yeah, sue me for thinking you were higher than 1 on the IQ scale…

Me: V, you said that this was what was needed last week! Now how on Earth can you ask for something completely different???
V: M, don’t talk about last week yaar. I forget things after 4-5 days… Just go by what I tell you… That’s all…

V: Guys, but why has work on Phase 2 not started?
C: Because work on Phase 1 is not yet complete.
V: That’s ok yaar… Just make Phase 1 later. Right now ,just make Phase 2 properly…

V: M, is that document complete?
Me: Eh? How can it be? I don’t yet have any of the detailed process parameters you are supposed to give me… What will the input parameters be?
V: Actually, we are not aware of the input parameters right now…
Me: Hmm… OK… And what is the output required?
V: That we shall decide next week… But please design the process flow for the system by tomorrow…

At a client meeting:

A: Hmmm… So, from the BCS side, M will be handling this. Who will handle this from our side?
V: (raising hand) Me! I’ll take care of it!
A: OK. Now, in the next two weeks we’ll need you to prepare the initial documentation with M and then taking M’s inputs, you will need to make the presentation for the SMC.
V: Yes… Yes… Will do.
A: So, can we set the presentation date as being two weeks from today?
V: Yes. Absolutely! One thing though, from tomorrow, I am going on leave for 3 weeks…

Yeah, I swear these incidents really have happened. No kidding. Then of course, there are the delightful exhibitions of intellect that I endured in my classroom sessions in college that I have detailed. And what can one say about the experiences I have documented in my Mars posts? All in all, I think I can deem myself to be fairly fortunate going by the share of hilarious experiences that life has hurled my way… Like this one at the Airtel showroom the other day:

Me: I’m having a problem paying my bill online.
Rep: Oh sir! (sorrowful expression) Sir, may I ask what the problem is?
Me: I’m unable to login. It tells me to reset my password and says that the new password will be SMSed to me, but I never receive the SMS!
Rep: Oh sir! So sorry sir. Sir, then, can I ask you to please login using your password and then lodge a complaint online?

Or a great bank:

Me: I need to
Rep: Oh sir. Sir, for this you need to have your PAN number associated with your account and that is not done as of now.
Me: Oh! Can you do it right now then?
Rep: No sir. For that you need to use the online banking facility.
Me: Ah! OK. Now, I have forgotten my password for that.
Rep: No problem sir. You can apply to reset it and we will mail you the new password within 5 working days...
Me: Mail me for an online thing? Damn! I need this urgently. Can’t I get it faster?
Rep: Yes sir. You can visit the nearest branch and request them. Then they will complete the task…
Me: And how long will that take? It's faster you said. So will it be reflected immediately?
Rep: No sir. Not immediately, but it will be done within 7-10 working days…

And a classic from the client to close:

V: M, yaar, don't say that this is not within the scope and it's impossible and all yaar. I am also human yaar. I also breathe. So, think of that and try to help me and do this not for my sake but for that sake...

Yep. Thanks guys… It’s been a pleasure…

Stop Reading - Rant Ahead

2007-06-08T08:14:00.001-07:00

Yeah, it’s that time of the year again when I finally get off my lazy backside and hammer away at my keyboard. Let’s face it, this is not being written with the purpose of writing anything, but simply with a view to breaking my workstation down and causing me, therefore, to have a nice break under that excuse…

One thing I have never understood is the levels of asininity that people so frequently descend to. Take a look at the comments on my previous post if you like. There are people there who say that I should not ‘unleash my acerbic tongue’ and others who believe that I should be politically correct because someone may someday crack a joke at my expense…

Guess what! I’m ok with that!!! I’ve said in the post itself that I don’t freaking mind! People who can’t take a joke are so like that little kid in the playground who screams and attacks the other kid with the line, “You called me a b*stard? You insulted my parents?” Jeez! Will you grow up?

Your comments are as sensible as a twit who wears a black suit with a light blue tie!!! It’s astounding really that anyone could wear anything as hideous as that and be allowed to live by those around, but then, so are your comments. Not that I give a rat’s ass by the way… And if you do, too bad.

Can’t put my finger quite on the reason, but I do seem to be a bit pissed off. Small wonder really. I am a consultant to a client who asks me if numbers are case-sensitive. I wonder now… Is that the person who authored those comments? He’s certainly capable of the blue-tie bit, so who knows? There surely can’t be too many people of that ilk in this world!!! Probably as rare as a brain cell in George W Bush’s head…

Life’s good, it must be said. Introduces one to all these sundry examples of brain-dead people and makes me feel quite nice and even charitable at times.

Oh and yeah, I know that this is not a proper post. It’s about as proper a post as Bangalore a ‘city’ or Gandhi a ‘Mahatma’. But hey, everyone has the right to rant.

Now, with all that out of the way and having spilt all the bile, let me start off by mentioning how glad I am to be back posting again… Now, I sure hope I can manage this regularly, but hey, gotta start somewhere… Chow-time now… Laterz…

Right on the Wrong Side!

2007-02-18T09:44:00.000-08:00

OK, call me what you will (retrograde, racist, parochial etc), but I simply can’t understand what all the fuss is about being politically correct and all of that. I mean, if I don’t like someone, I now have to think before I let loose a verbal volley if I want to be ‘politically correct’! Hey, I might call him a ‘Paki’ or a ‘fag’! Whoa! Frankly, I don’t give a rat’s ass if someone thinks I am racist or anything like that! Whatever happened to ‘freedom of speech’?

Recently, I cracked one of my very typical parochial jokes and someone called me a racist. Now, that was just laughed off by people because hey, it was a joke cracked at a community that was Indian…just one of those typical jokes y’know. The next day, I called Thierry Henry ‘Monkeyface’ because he looks, acts and behaves like a simian. All of a sudden there were people on my back calling me ‘racist’. Uh? Of course, it did not strike these people as even remotely ironic that they called van Nistelrooy ‘Horseface’. After all, he’s white! Quite frankly, political correctness bewilders me.

It’s even funnier coming in India of course. What with Classifieds advertising for ‘fair, good-looking girls’ and fairness creams ruling the roost. Let’s face it, we Indians are as racist as it gets and let’s also admit that it doesn’t really make a jot of a difference to anything! I mean, just what do I get by being ‘politically correct’?

If I am racist, there’s no way you will make me change my mind by restricting the vocabulary that I am allowed to use in public. If I dislike somebody, my dislike will only be heightened if I am not allowed to speak of it in public. All that will happen is that we generate an entire world of civilized hypocrites. People who are just not allowed to speak about the way they feel.

Personally, I have nothing against someone who doesn’t like me. As a matter of fact, I’d much rather be aware of his feelings than be faced with simmering hatred garbed with a fake smile.

The OJ Simpson judgment was one of the most blatant exhibitions of racism if you ask me. The final line of the defence counsel made certain that the decision was made along racist lines and the defendant was released because of the colour of his skin.

Now, don’t give me all that trash about how certain races were oppressed for thousands of years and how there was so much injustice in the past and how it must be corrected. I for one - and I don’t care if I am alone in this - don’t think that placing censures on the use of certain words and phrases goes even a millimeter in that direction…

Fair enough, words like nigger are not in great taste and I, as much as anyone else, would hardly be inclined to look very kindly upon someone who uses the word, but that’s about all! Racism today has just become one of those catchphrases that has every public figure indulging in a race to look holier-than-thou. Everyone wants to be more anti-racism than the other and it’s all just hypocrisy as just about everybody is racist at the core.

In India alone, there are several laws that are discriminatory (and therefore 'racist') by their very nature, but which it is 'politically incorrect' to speak out against.

1. Reservation is caste-based. It therefore discriminates against those of particular castes as it favours those of other castes.
2. An educational institution run by a religious minority is FORCED to implement 50% reservation for members of that religion, so it discriminates against those of other religions.
3. There is a similar rule for institutions run by a ‘language minority’.
4. There are different Personal Laws for those of different religions.

The list is endless!

The next thing that amazes me is the selective nature of this ‘political correctness’. The rules, it would appear are as follows:

1. Racist jokes are ok if they are aimed at whites, but not at blacks…sorry, African-Americans or even Asians.
2. Jokes about men are alrite, but a joke about women is sexist and is plain trouble.
3. Jokes may easily be cracked at the expense of communities like the Amish, but not against communities that take offence in a violent way. The former are a harmless form of humour while the latter are racist to the extreme.
4. An African-American may crack any type of joke, an Asian may crack an ‘Asian’ joke or one aimed at the ‘whites’, but a ‘white’ may not crack any jokes other than ones aimed at his own community.
5. India-specific: Political leaders, activists and just about any runt on the street can crack a joke about the upper castes, but to even call a person of the lower castes by the name of his caste is a non-bailable offence as per Indian Law.

My question: If I claim to dislike and shun politics, do I get to ignore ‘political correctness’ and get away with being politically incorrect?

Oh and yeah, if you’re one of those that want to tear my guts out for this, here you go: I think you’re a faggot and a Paki and deserve to be consigned to the trash-cans behind a society of lower-caste sweepers! So sue me!

A Man's Journey Through HelL - VI

2007-02-15T08:05:00.000-08:00

“See, in fact, depending on the method you use in fact, your calculation can give you different answers for the same numerical”, spewed the emaciated Wall Street wannabe. Strange though this would undoubtedly have sounded to him before he had entered the hallowed campus, by this time, he had been rendered immune to such hilarities and he barely paused in mid-snore as these words whizzed past his barely-conscious brain. It was the last class before the mid-terms and all he could think of was just what he would write in that endemic irrelevance of his campus, called the ‘Feedback Form’. Comments like “In Term1 he merely shredded my interest in Finance…in Term3, he truly massacred the remnants…” were rife in that, but everyone knew that it was merely more fodder for the shredder… Ah well, how the cynical had fallen…

The first lecture after the mid-terms was decidedly different though. It was, all of a sudden as if everyone had returned to that bright-eyed and wide-eyed attention of Term1 and then some. As the Hunchback of Notre Campus entered the class, so too, it seemed, did the Angel of Doom, for there descended upon the room a deathly silence and upon the faces of the students, a pallor that matched. Reputations, they say, precede one and for this Quasimodo, the reputation was that the deformities that mattered were hardly those that were apparent to the eye…

“Understanding? Or confusing?” he sneered from the elevated platform, gazing upon an offender who had dared to lower her eyes to her notebook for a second. “That’s an F for sure,” whispered someone. Not surprisingly, the lady in question happened to score a very respectable B, but the very fact that this happening was not surprising is the beginning of the mystery and enigma that is called Baba. Rumour of course was very inaccurate about him, citing reasons like mental instability and a deep-seated sadism coupled with a lack of understanding of basic statistical rules. The deep and dark truth was actually quite different. Hunchie, it was ultimately discovered, took all the uncorrected answer sheets and stood at the bottom of the staircase of the Faculty Block. Then, at the stroke of midnight of the first full-moon night in March, he took the name of Devi…oops, Satan (That was the beginning of Devil, you dim-dums, before you get any ideas), swigged a double scotch, slit a rooster’s neck and tossed all the answer sheets high up in the air. Then, depending on which stair the sheets landed on, he awarded grades… Marking was then completed by him to ensure that the results were fair…

This of course was all very fine with the mid-graders as suddenly a chappie with only a D and an F to show for his first two attempts at Statistics, landed up being the topper, while of course, J Pappoo ended up with a remarkable D…although the Math Olympic Gold Medalist topped him as well…with an F. 29 Fs, 17Ds and no A+s or As…now THAT’s what constituted a REAL normal curve… It was only now that the people of the class began to understand the true depth of that seemingly innocuous question that someone had asked in Term1 (“But why do we use the same normal curve for all the questions???”). Here, at long last, was evidence… They didn’t… Normal is as normal does, it would seem, eh?

All, of course, was not dark and morbid in these days. The college fest had been and gone and had been quite spectacular in terms of the spectacle it provided…depending of course on how much you cared for it… The inauguration had set the tone really, when the opening address began with the immortal quote, “I welcome you to IIML, the best B-school in Lucknow…” Thereafter of course, the fest followed this honest tone, with an introduction going, “I would like to welcome Mr. S Raha, the Chairman of IOCL”. “Psst…sir, that’s ONGC!!!” went an usher… “Yeah, yeah, same thing” announced the illustrious speaker. These two, quite sadly, formed the acmes of the fest…along with the amusing reality that the website that carried the fest’s name, seemed to be a gay porn site… Ah well, the effects of being late with registering an oh-so-creative name…

For the remainder of course, the term ‘drogged’ on and enthusiasm ‘dropped’ just like the ‘drog and drop’ that they were subjected to in the classroom… The bright spot of course was that the Fin Prof had changed after the mids and they now had a Bong who seemed at least, to be aware of what he taught. The fires in their Financial bellies now had a new vigour…until that fateful day… “Too-day, bhee will laarn the Oraan-gootaan thyo-raam. There was an experiment in bheech there was waan team of phinaancial ex-paarts and the aather team was sitting with an oraan-gootaan and a dart-board with stock names written on it. The phinancial ex-paarts made and aapdated their portfolio on phinancial principles and the aather team invested on the stocks that the oraan-gootaan’s darts were hitting. Aapter three years, there was a dipherence of .25% in the retaarns…”

It was fairly raining Bongs of course…what with their penchant for the Methodolgy of Research… “Iph a paarticular question is not quaaanteetative…” went this one, “than it eez saamthing aather than quaaanteetative.” It was just the orgasmic smile on his face that prevented the brighter sparks from perhaps pointing out to him that this may actually not be as big a revelation as he believed it to be. Not, of course, that it made any difference in the bigger scheme of things, but these brighter sparks always seem to be on the lookout for things to discuss with the professors after the lecture…

HR of course, was a totally different cuppa. The prof quite obviously shared the students’ view on what a classroom really was made for, but that was about where the similarities and the prof’s sympathies ended. Sleeping in class, when one is a prof, presents one with the slight, although easily surpassed, difficulty of just how to ensure that the class is not disrupted more than normal. The pre-mid guy had apparently perfected his strategy over the years though. It was simple and effective and ensured that any lack of sleep elsewhere did not in any way hamper his productivity professionally… The strategy was so surprisingly simple, that it’s a wonder that the others in the Faculty had not thought of it yet… Get the students to conduct the lecture, occupy the seat of one of those conducting the class and then do exactly what the student would have done, had the prof been the one talking. Smooth and simple…and vindictive of course, but hey, who’s complaining? Oh wait, nobody’s thought of it? Hmm… I think VG may have something to say about that…

Post-mids of course, things had stabilized with a guest lecturer who believed that he would rather see the students sleep than bother himself with the tedium of listening to them… But hey, he did reveal the questions before the paper, so one is probably safe in saying that he was one of the more popular figures on campus…till he reneged of course…

Quotes of the Term: (Taken from the written material handed out in the course regarding the Management of Materialistic ‘things’.

“Temperature is measured in ‘Celsius’. Earlier it used to be measured in Centigrade…”
“Simplification reduces the nature of parts of a product.”
“Parts and components can be defined as parts and components that are used.”

Perhaps the one real hallmark of the Institute though was that those in positions of authority did not seem to consider it at all necessary to believe in the importance or the necessity or indeed the veracity of the topics they taught. How else could one explain a Communist teaching Keynesian Economics or an MIS professor who believed that ERPs were the worst thing to happen to the corporate world or a Quant professor who did not, seemingly at least, know what a normal distribution was or, of course, a Marketing professor who spoke for an hour on the importance of listening? Ah well, summers were approaching and with them came the promise of a new experience…one of freedom, professionalism, learning, stipends, networking…and most importantly, beer…plus of course, the opportunity to meet, from a position of considerable advantage, all the girls that had gained admission into the new batch… Yes indeed, pride goes before a fall…

A Man's Journey Through HelL - V

2007-02-08T23:08:00.000-08:00

Hmm... A few days ago, sombody asked me if I was in possession of a fifth installment. As it happens, I now am. I shall not, of course, for reasons of not wanting to be arrested for treason, divulge who exactly it was that authored these pieces, but suffice to say, that I know him well and he has not objected - thus far at least - to my using these on my blog. Should you care to read the previous ones of course, they are at the links below:

A Man's Journey Through HelL - I
A Man's Journey Through HelL - II
A Man's Journey Through HelL - III
A Man's Journey Through HelL - IV

“And in fact, in this in fact, we can use simple in fact, compound interest formula…” He rose, bleary eyed in a state bordering on disbelief as he heard the emaciated monstrosity on the classroom platform spew this as the response to how a certain case in Financial Management was to be solved. They had faced this commando trainer in the first term, yes, but surely this was beyond the realm of the slightly-more-than-mild insanity they had believed the clown to be suffering from!

It did not stop there of course, as there was more to come in the next class…and the next one… Yes indeed, if Term 2 could be called the Crowning Glory, this term was definitely making a case for itself to be christened Reclaiming Glory… There was incident aplenty to be found now, so much so that the oddity now was to have a sane moment…whether within class or without.

The Finance Professor of course headed the pack out of the blocks. With unforgettable gems like, “Of course we can use in fact this CAGR. In fact, can you tell me in fact what is this CAGR which you are talking about?” to “In fact the case says that interest is 5%, but in fact we will in fact assume it to be 14% so that in fact we can reach this solution which I have in fact solved in this Excel…” But the nadir of the nightmare session was perhaps endured by the then not-so-Express American who approached him to request a relook at a quiz paper.

AE: Sir, in this question, you have given me a 0…
SCB: In fact beta, what is this a/(a+b) and b/(a+b)???
AE: Sir, in a weighted average question, that is simple arithmetic!
SCB: Hmm…ok, come to see me tomorrow…leave this here with me…

The next day:

SCB: See beta, in fact I looked at your solution in fact and I saw that after the third decimal place in fact your answer is wrong… So, I think that you must have got this far by accident…

Ouch!!!

Oh yes, there was a lot of fun to be had in this term…if one could first wake up in time to reach class…and then stay awake through lectures! There was the fat, little geriatric cove that the administration had dug out of his grave to teach how Materialistic Management students had become and of course, there was the quintessential HR professor (Which term could be complete without one?) who was quite obviously leading a troubled life at home…

“Materials Management is about learning how to manage materialistic things…” said old Geriatrix (Sorry G&U, but I couldn’t resist lifting that one) as he kicked off his course; the same course in the course of which (sorry, but once again, I just couldn’t resist that one) he was to ensure that his resurrection - approximately four centuries after he was interred - was not in vain and that the authorities that had sanctioned his exhumation would never have cause to complain that he did not provide entertainment. While it would take more than a few volumes to encapsulate the wisdom of the ages that the old cove endeavoured to spread, a few samples would surely be in order as one attempts to eulogize the hallowed One.

“If I have to explain to you a supply chain, I can do it best with a comparison. Mere bachchon, imagine a cycle. A cycle uses a chain. Why does a cycle use a chain? We can use something else. Imagine a long short rod. If it pumps up and down, it will not move the whole thing efficiently. So, we use a chain. Now, a supply chain is like a cycle chain, because both are having links that make the chain move smoothly as if it was lubricated… So now, you know what is a supply chain. So remember that if you ever have to think of a supply chain, just first think of a cycle chain and your solution will be complete and obvious…” I swear by all that I hold sacred (like my Jennifer Aniston poster and my pink knickers) that he actually said this in these exact words…

“Mere bachchon, I want you to be like the Taj Mahal. After my classes, all of you should be like Taj Mahals. Lots of Taj Mahals…” Yeah rrrright! Like, housing dead souls, perhaps?

While all this and more transpired within the walls of the classroom, there was yet more entertainment to be had on the ‘other’ side. With their departure nearing fast, the senior batch seemed suddenly to have become acutely aware of the fact that the junior batch was blessed with more than thrice the number of girls than their own batch. This phenomenon of course, coupled with the knowledge that they hardly stood (ok, I don’t even know if there is a pun intended here!) a chance in an environment where women were not solely restricted to the specimens on campus, led to yet another round of the - by now – routine exposure of the depths that the male gender can plumb when faced with the hugely favourable odds of 1:500 rather than the 1:5 billion that would be faced outside campus. (The fact that the female gender may be willing to wait for more favourable odds for themselves, has never really struck the male gender. This is perhaps aided by the fact that Jerry Seinfeld summed up in the words, “We men seem to end up with women anyway!”)

DG: Wow maan! She’s hot. I think I shall propose to her before I leave campus.
DM (spilling coffee all over my jacket in my shock): Whaaa? Errr… as in…WHAT?
DG: Yeah! Can’t hurt… I mean, this is my only chance after all…
DM: OK, so you think you have a chance, but like, isn’t it true that you’ve never spoken to her?
DG: Yeah, but she must surely know who I am…

Then of course, there was the Students’ Council election that was coming up. That was brilliant of course, what with the fact that only the ones with the lowest absolute IQ seemed to deem it fit to ‘stand’ for election. Not that anyone was complaining of course, given the manifestos that were written and the deep and philosophical thoughts that the candidates revealed themselves to be in possession of. Like this candidate, who revealed that her top priority if elected would be “to ensure that there is student representation on the Faculty Council.” Of course, in her esteemed opinion, it was a completely different proposal to that of having Faculty members being on the Students’ Council, but hey, perhaps the rest of the campus was just not smart enough to see her point… That she still ended up second in the polling stands as testament to the fact that even IIM students have senses of humour…and compassion…and libido…

The Term was not even half-way through and already there was plenty to talk about…unless you were the HR prof of course. For want of any other evidence, it was never alleged too seriously, but there were serious doubts over his state of affairs (No, no idea if the pun is intended, but his appearance would suggest it isn’t anyway) at home, but he did seem to have a major point in common with the students… The opinion that classrooms were quite definitely contraptions that were invented by those that had a very good idea of what surrounds would stimulate the best sleep…

Till later then… The mid-terms are here and surely that merits a break… and no, not of a leg…

A Third Coming? Sigh Oh for the second to be the last!

2006-12-10T13:45:00.000-08:00

I wonder if any of you has ever wondered as to the extreme nature of absolute and complete incompetence, asininity or of course sheer suckiness of some people in this world. I am pretty sure you must have, for the world, in my limited experience, seems filled with specimens of the type of GWB or OBL or course the SRs, T and K…

I must admit that these qualities failed to appeal to my sense of humour as much as they used to after a while and I began to look upon these sundry people almost as irritants, rather than objects of hilarity. Then, I managed to come upon that rarest of rare commodities – a community or committee or family (call it what you will) that not only exhibits a heady mix of all of these traits, but even manages to perform the supreme task of instilling the same into every person that happens to be admitted into it!

You may of course claim that perhaps the reason for this is that the rights of admission to this abomination are based on the pre-requisite that the candidate must already be in possession of these qualities, but I refuse to accept that. I have seen creatures that I would quite possibly have deemed as being worthy of being exempted from the penalty of death before birth, being converted almost overnight into those walking monstrosities that one casts eyes upon and immediately decides that if there is indeed a God, then he is certainly either prone to grave errors or of course that He is a sadist of unprecedented proportions who loves inflicting upon normal mortals the misery of having to tolerate such brain-dead morons.

This community or committee or family – call it what you will – is therefore, in my opinion a case that should really be studied by all these goonks that like to tread the Earth in the name of social scientists and of course Human Rights activists. I must admit that were I a member of the latter group, I would be baying for this community’s or committee’s or family’s – damnit, let’s just call them MF henceforth – blood. Surely the greater benefit that Humankind (yes, yes, I like to use politically correct vocabulary at all times) is to be rated as being above the lives of those 12 or whatever creatures that can’t really be described as anything above the term ‘nuggets’!!!

And then of course, I realized that quite frankly, the humour that the MF nuggets provide is something that really should be appreciated more than decried or bemoaned. It’s not everyday that one sees self-important nutters strutting around in their pomp while everyone around that has even the slightest iota of brains – something that MF seems to eradicate in an extremely effective and systemic manner - sniggers at their incompetence!

It could of course be claimed here that I am merely ranting against MF for being incompetent, asinine and sucky and that by doing so, I am going against all those things that Human Rights activists hold so dear to their hearts, but tarry a bit, think a tad and you’ll realize that the only reason that I am not concerned about these – apart of course from the fact that quite frankly, I (really) don’t give a damn – is that hey, I may care about human and animal rights or even viral and bacterial rights for that matter, but I don’t really classify MF as belonging to any of these categories…and given the fact that I don’t yet have any activists (apart from the Bachao! Mahila! Andolan) baying for my blood, I seem to have made a quite impeccable call on that classification…or the lack thereof…

Now, you may well ask who MF are and what they ‘stand’ for. For the moment though, I must refrain from answering these questions apart from the affirmation that all of those that have been claimed by the darkness that is MF, seem quite limp in their makeup and nature… Ah well, not for everyone the joy of freedom and intelligence I suppose…

Oh and yes, in case your curiosity seems to you to have been sufficiently piqued, let me assure you that later ravings of mine shall quite possibly shed more light on these things… I am, after all, not particularly renowned for my adherence to the socially acceptable niceties that most allow to inhibit their expressions…

An Experiment in Stretching It

2006-12-02T12:49:00.000-08:00

It is with not just a little trepidation that I begin this assault on my keyboard and by all accounts other than my own - and the list of those accounts is undoubtedly led by the device in question - any attempt I make to generate an electronic record of those feeble electrical impulses that I euphemistically choose to call thoughts, can only be called a brutal assault…and that is not just on the sensibilities – if there are any – of the unfortunate souls, who being devoid of any better and publicly acceptable activity to entertain and pleasure themselves with, choose to actually attempt to wade through my wild ramblings…

Now, in case you have not noticed it already and have still managed to get this far, or of course, if you have been sensible and just decided to skip that rambling introduction, let me point out to you an ability of mine of which I am immensely proud – specially as by virtue of the sheer confusion it causes, it is the one skill that saw me clear B-school at first attempt without ever flunking a paper – and that is that this sentence that you are currently skimming over and pretending to read happens to be just the second in this post of mine that already seems to have assumed epic proportions judging by its sheer volume. Oh yes, I am reasonably adept at continuing to add meaningless words to rambling sentences that lead nowhere. It’s an art that I have found to be completely ineffective in Mathematics papers (leading to my flunking one of those confounded monstrosities while in Engineering college), but a skill that takes near-scientific proportions in B-school.

Getting to what prompted me to write this however, I wonder if you have ever remarked at the remarkable irony of the situations that life seems to present one in a seemingly endless stream. Take for example this person I happened to chance upon a few days back who assured me that he represented the Society of Free Thinkers. Now, before I begin my narration, let me assure you that I bear these Free Thinkers no grudge and would willingly let them be as free as they like as long as they let me enjoy the same freedom and of course, as long as specific appendages of their male members (pun fully intended) are deprived of that very same freedom. After all, while not quite a member of their free society, one does always endeavour to be looked upon kindly by those that one sees as wishing to believe themselves to be above one.

Well, getting down to the incident then, this particular specimen of the society was attempting, as I remember the scene, to persuade me to part with some of my employer-given (and Tax department spared) gravy for a cause that he assured me was imperative for me to champion if I wanted to retain control over the free nature of my blog. I was, not unnaturally a bit concerned, given that I am quite often accused of being quite a miser (I have actually ventured as far as to install pedals inside the chassis of my Esteem to save on the petrol costs and I kid you not on this), but ventured to enquire from him why he believed that this was necessarily so, to which he responded that this was quite necessarily true as the Elders of the Society of Free Thinkers had decreed this to be necessarily true which necessarily necessitated the belief that this was necessarily true and also necessitated the fact that people must believe it to be so!

Now, as you can well imagine, I was quite astounded at the depth of his arguments for a moment, but thereafter it began to dawn on me that there was perhaps no real free thinking involved in this process…or well…not at least, on the part of any person or persons other than the ones he so reverently referred to as the Elders, unless of course, one is to look upon his decision to believe their decree as an expression of free thought in itself, which in my opinion would be stretching the thought a bit thin and stretching, to me at least, is something that is best left to appendages best left unmentioned and not to points that tend to get thin from the stretching, much in contrast to the afore-mentioned appendages. (Another one sentence paragraph! Damn! I’m good at these ;-) )

Well, to cut a long story short, I decided to conclude that while there may be a lot to be said for free thought, the idea of a society of those that follow it’s philosophy seems a tad ironic. Something like a governing body for the Anarchists almost, you might say ;-). To top it all of course, he revealed to me that the Society of Free Thinkers apparently had an admission fee if one wished to join it, which in itself seemed ironic given that I viewed it as him telling me that I needed to pay something in order to declare myself a member of a society that essentially proclaims itself as pioneering something that, for all practical purposes at least, is ostensibly free!

Yes indeed, irony is something that seems all-pervasive. Just like a certain professor who, in an Innovation class, happened to say, “This is the solution to this case and no, your point of view is not relevant to the school of thought that needs to be followed to arrive at the solution for this case…”. Hmm…or of course, if I were to draw on the paltry time I have spent in my workplace, I’d refer to the time I was told that the ‘Employee Satisfaction and Retention Workshop’ that I was scheduled to attend had been postponed as the Human Resources manager who was conducting it had quit his job…

Yes, life is quite entertaining in its vagaries and of course the ironies that accompany them. Take if you will the fact that I, despite my protestations to the contrary am taken by most to be quite a hard man to please! I do, of course, take that as quite a compliment given that hardness when pleased is something that any bloke would be content to display, but hard to please?

Oh and lest you are still searching for the point that I was trying to make in this post, as apparently a particular commenter was in one of my previous posts, hey, quit while you’re ahead! I’m a GUY!!! There is no point to this one… I did try to make one, but found the entire job a bit too hard to finish on my own… Ah! Now that’s a nice one, eh? ;-)

Just a Dream (Beyond Words)

2006-10-26T23:59:00.000-07:00

Been a while since I blogged and it’s not at all due to that mysterious entity we call work, let me assure you. Indeed, I have discovered over the past few weeks that work happens to be the one quantity that one can actually compress to as little as one wants with no significant impact on that other mystical entity that is termed as productivity. Apparently I had it figured out correctly all through… Nice feeling to know I was right.

What though is it like at the time that one does not really have any facts on which to base one’s opinions? However rational one may be – and I certainly like to delude myself with illusions of my own ‘rationality’ – there are always certain notions one holds; certain ideas that are created and that reside solely in the realms of our own selves and that really have nothing more to them than the mind.

What of these notions, the possibility of attainment or existence of which, one can never really be sure? Time, of course, as is its wont, eventually rears its head and reveals all on most occasions. The aftermath of this is something that I would rather not dwell on at the moment, as that would possibly take up a few more reams of paper (ok, e-paper ;-) ), but the period spent in that state of animated suspension is in itself quite an experience.

The highs that accompany the conviction of being right as well as the lows of fearing the seemingly inevitable; the hilarity of watching the optimists who envision the details and the despair of not knowing just what even the attainment may be like. All of these seem to roll into one at times and at other times, each can provide an agony or conversely an ecstasy that is not quite matched by the real.

Even more confusing are some of the random events and situations that confront one from time to time; each offering the hope of fulfillment and yet each creating the risk of losing something that one never really had, but something that is perhaps dearer than anything one does. After all, a vision is never the easiest to give up on…and yet, how can one be said to possess it?

But visions are a must if one is to achieve true exhilaration. After all, how could one exult the same way in winning an objective and concrete reality when compared with achieving something that may so easily have remained just a figment of a mortal brain’s limited and poor imagination? Some things just so completely exceed words…

Forever Champion - Farewell to The Greatest Ever

2006-09-18T08:22:00.000-07:00

Some 13 years ago, for the very first time, I saw on my television a young man in blue and green overalls, pulling off one of the most fantastic moves I had ever seen. It was the moment that marked the beginning of an addiction that I thought I’d never lose. For the next 13 years, for 16-18 Sundays a year, I was glued to my seat for two hours of electrifying entertainment…seeing in action the greatest sportsperson in the world plying his trade and mesmerising one and all who were fortunate enough to be alive and witness to his feats.

There were of course the huge rants that I had to bear initially. My travel plans, my playtime, jamming, my entire schedule, regardless of exams, hell or high water had to be built around the race. Dad was hardly a fan and the only words I heard on those days would refer to how I was wasting my life pursuing ‘these vicarious thrills that would never help me in life’. Didn’t last too long though. Today, it would be hard to tell who between him and me, the bigger fan is.

Come B-school admission time and every single interview I gave revolved around F1. Every question, including which the last book I read was, was met with a response that drew the interviewer into the world of F1 and Michael Schumacher. Hardly hurt that even the most clueless interviewer had at least heard the name of the man who is undoubtedly the greatest driver ever seen in any form of racing and who may well be the greatest sportsperson at least of our times, if not of all time. Talk about a vicarious thrill that never helped…given that I cleared all the interviews…barring the lone one where the interviewers (bless them) consciously stayed away from the topic despite my best efforts… Ironic :-).

Tiger Woods recently labelled him the greatest sportsperson in the world and the reasons are hardly difficult to see. For four long years after 1995, Michael was not Champion. Yet he always carried the label of the best driver in the world. In 1997 and 1998, despite the horrendously slow machinery he had to work with, Michael made the fight for the crown a close one and both seasons went down to the last race of the Championship.

The genesis of the label though has to be the defining 1994 World Championship, when in a Ford V-8 powered Benetton, Michael beat off Damon Hill in the Renault V-10 powered Williams. That too without having raced in 3 of the races that season. The man was in town and there was no disputing who the demigod of the sport was.

The canter in 1995, followed by the shock move to one of the worst teams on the grid at that time, were the moves that would define the man later. Unlike Senna, Prost, Mansell and the rest before him, Schumacher had chosen the difficult path. He had chosen to reject offers from the best teams on the grid and rack up the wins and the records with the best machinery on view, choosing instead the mission of restoring the glory years to the sport’s most glamourous and storied, legendary team.

While Prost had attempted walking the same path (towards the end of his career), he gave up in a year. Michael was made of sterner stuff. Winning with a car that in Eddie Irvine’s famous words, “handled like a bullock-cart” is no mean feat. Winning when your team-mate, in identical machinery is not even in the top 10, is the stuff of legend. To do so repeatedly is folklore. To do so for over a decade is Divine.

Inevitably there are comparisons with Senna. Tosh! Look at the win/race ratio. Look at the pole/win ratio and you realise how silly the comparison is. Schumacher has rarely had the fastest car on the grid. Senna almost always did. Yet, Schumacher has comfortably more than twice the number of race wins Senna had. All said and done, Senna is who Senna is more because of the romance that is always associated with ones who die in the manner that Senna died in. Had Senna not died, he would probably have been forced to quit by the dominant German anyway.

As Michael retires from the sport, so shall I from viewing it. People speak of how I should mark my respect for the man by continuing to view the sport that he gave so much to make. Yet for me, F1 is Michael. Without him, there is no joy in the sport any more. I know of several who feel the same. That is perhaps the most worrying thing for Bernie Ecclestone. Never has the sport known such a phenomenon and the dip in the viewership when Michael was not competing in 1999 with the fracture is sure to be on Bernie’s mind…possibly that is what has fuelled his hopeful statement that he believes that the Red Baron may race with Renault in the coming season.

A dip in viewership is a foregone conclusion. How major of course, remains to be seen. Perhaps F1 will now be more about the sport than anything else, but that can only hurt. None of the current crop of drivers has anywhere close to the charisma that Michael does. None has his aura and none can even think in their dreams of comparing any aspect of their ‘talent’ with the Maestro…

As Michael leaves, perhaps the biggest wrench I feel is due to not having seen him race live. I had planned a trip to the Bahrain and Malaysian races next summer. That plan now lies in tatters. I hope though that Michael leaves as 8-time Champion. It would be justice. It would be the only deserving farewell to the greatest sportsperson to have walked the planet.

Thank you Michael for lighting up all those years and making the weekend so truly worthwhile. Thanks for all the brilliance and the exhilaration. Thanks for giving us the opportunity of seeing history being made and seeing the marker being laid down. Now make that 8 Championships and give us the high that you and we deserve to see you go out with.

Forza Michael. Forever Champion!

Intent Is Everything

2006-09-04T04:30:00.000-07:00

Office seems fast to be replacing the L classrooms as the place where I doodle and ramble on...much to the dismay of those that are later forced to read of course, but then again, it's a matter of choice to read...and not that much a choice to write...somehow, my hands get restless...and then they can't be held down...

It was not without mild trepidation that he considered what he was doing. He was not entirely renowned for being the fastest driver around. Indeed, it would be fair to say that he was perhaps the most cautious that one was likely to find; a man loath to pick up speed unless convinced completely about the lack of any setback, foreseeable or otherwise.

Yet, today had been an entirely different experience for him. Looking back on it, perhaps it had been inevitable, considering the way the circumstances had played out their role. The drive had begun in perfect weather, weather the kind of which he had not really seen before...not in as long as he could remember at least. It seemed inviting; inviting to the extent that he had been conscious almost from the very start, of an irresistible urge to throw caution to the winds and surrender himself to the will of what seemed like a higher power that was willing him on. It had still taken him a bit of time, but he was now rolling merrily along, at a speed that he had not known before, but that seemed not to trouble him in the least on this day.

The estate-owner had heard of him. Not particularly known for moving at any kind of speeds, was the reputation that had floated in. True, the source of the information had been the subject himself, but there seemed little reason to doubt the veracity of these words. At this moment though, it would seem that either the reputation had been left behind, or else the driver was possessed…not that there were too many reasons to complain about that of course.

He had been quite slow when they started the journey and the trip home had begun to seem as if it would take a frustrating while longer than earlier thought. Then, all of a sudden, the Devil seemed to have come over him and he seemed to have floored the pedal. He was taking the curves with an effortless ease now and it was pleasantly astonishing to see how he seemed to be relishing this new experience. A flick of the wrist and a step further they hurtled on. Speed, it would appear was definitely a high he was not disliking…

As they approached the gates of the estate, he became acutely aware of the fact that the journey should really be drawing to an end. There were issues that cropped up, he knew, and decided that it was perhaps best to bring them up now…albeit in a roundabout manner. He slowed abruptly and turned to his co-passenger who seemed to be regarding him with an amused smile. “Err…I think I’m running out of gas”. “That’s alright. I didn’t intend to let you in anyway…” "Oh...ah...well, fine then..." He was conscious of the embarrassment he had caused himself, but was also relieved in a certain way.

On his way, he decided to drive around the outer walls. It was lovely…the sheer beauty rendered him speechless. The contours of the surface, the richness of the surrounds and of course, the exhilarating feeling of bliss and peace were not something that he had experienced before. It was as if time stood quite still and for once, he didn’t want it to move on. Drinking in the experience was like staring into the eyes of Infinity.

Jerking abruptly back to consciousness, he became aware suddenly of his phone ringing and drew to the side to take the call…

“Like what you see?”
“Yes, but it must be said that it reminds one quite a bit about the iceberg.”
“Surely there is less unseen than with the iceberg.”
“Very true, but looking at it from another perspective, perhaps what is hidden is – as with the iceberg – more important than what is so visible to the eye.”
“Well, then it may just be the eyes that need a slight refocusing, or of course, it could well be that the viewer sees but little right now and a slight change of perspective, or of course a shift in the fourth dimension shall bring more wisdom to the beholder!”
“One does see the point you make and must admit that given what has passed and the conviction and belief that one possesses - apart of course form one’s prided appreciation and devotion of all that is so exhilaratingly beautiful - that there is no doubt in one’s mind that what needs to be done, shall indeed come to pass.”
“And why would there be so much faith in such a conclusion?”
“Well, as I would say, ‘Intent is Everything…’ ”

With Twilight Will Come Bliss...

2006-08-29T10:58:00.000-07:00

Frozen dreams and a day that stays,
While days roll on and dreams still die,
Would you call me a dreamer still,
Just for my dream was not a lie?

One rainbow shines and another comes to life,
While my eyes still fail to rise up to the sky,
I can see what the clouds sweep,
But it’s in those oceans that life lies

Some moments are born to be made,
Some made to be reborn,
And then some are found in a place in time,
When life becomes a dream of a song

The picture may speak of a thousand dreams,
But could a dream be just a framed reality?
I closed my eyes and dreamed away the cage,
Did that make the real a fatality?

Awake, alive and with open eyes,
I dreamt me a life, for them denial,
A lie a dream could never tell,
When did that dream I befriend?

The stars may shine on,
But it’s the mind that’s alive,
For while the miles are real,
The distance is a lie...

Mid-Midnightmare

2006-08-19T09:55:00.000-07:00

I doubt if there is anyone who would remember this, for I am sure that reading even one of my ramblings is generally more than most sane people can handle, but anyway, I once mentioned in a post of mine how I have the most amazing luck when it comes to mobile phones.

Anyway, I really should have known when August began that it was time…time for me to start looking at the new handsets on the market. I mean, it was 8 months since I had purchased the last one and quite frankly that’s about as long as most of my handsets last… This one was working alrite actually, barring a couple of keys that had decided to take a bit of a break from work, but that’s ok. I don’t particularly resent employees taking sick leave and this was not really impeding me on a basis that was regular enough for me to get unduly perturbed and issue show-cause notices or the like.

Being the Crab that I am though, I obviously forgot all about this and chose to look instead at the beauty of the fact that my phone was indeed still functioning. End result of course, is that I am in Bangalore now, while my handset is gallivanting around Singapore, having reached there in Business Class aboard a Lufthansa flight. OK, now don’t ask me how it happened and how I know this, but just accept it. It’s me! And it’s technology that we’re speaking of here. I can hardly be blamed if our relationship is slightly dysfunctional!

Well, I hope that this explanation mollifies all those that may be nursing a grudge against me for now calling back or anything… I don’t think there are that many people of that variety anyway, but still… I mean, I can’t really be expected to have had a backup of my contact list! I mean, I tried to have one, but it was too damned tedious jotting all the numbers down on paper…and technology scares me beyond reason, so expecting me to Sync with the Nokia PC Suite etc is something that I really can’t be expected to do. Sorry, but that’s the way it is :-).

Anyway, there are people who have asked me what I think of Bangalore and how I like it here. Well, here are a few snapshots of Bangalore…some that make me wonder, some that make me smile…and some that make me contemplate how bad it could be to be in the gas chamber after all!

- Auto drivers here don’t seem to want to go anywhere. You can ask them about any place in the city and the answer is a common, “No saar”. If you’re really, really, really lucky, it’s a “Saar, dubbal meter”.

- Real estate agents here don’t work on Sundays and work only half the day on Saturdays… Yes…that’s a fact.

- Shops here shut after working hours (7PM) and stay shut on Sundays…

- ToI has launched it’s ‘Refresh Bangalore’ Campaign… The tagline reads, “Put the ‘bang’ back in Bangalore”. Err…yes, this is true as well…

- Above one of the traffic signals here, there is a HUGE signboard that reads, “Red Means Stop”.

- There is no left, right or straight in this city. It’s leftaa, rightaa and (get this right) stry-taa”. Yep, the last one being pronounced as rightaa with an ‘st’ at the beginning.

On the positive side of course, since this isn’t home, there are no restrictions…then again, given the deadlines of this city, who needs parents? Oh and before I forget, I have also managed to coerce (for want aof a better word) my folks into promising me an N-series or something 30+ anyway, in return for buying a cheap handset this time :-).

Oh and just another point of similarity. That last post I mentioned at the start of this one, was made at a time that I had launched a pre-doomed attempt at quitting. Twas five days then. Over 3 weeks now...life's good...even better than the real thing...

Overadequate Inadequacy

2006-08-06T22:17:00.000-07:00

There seem to be a thousand thoughts that encircle my mind at the moment, which of course is a massive departure from situation normal which normally is a huge void in that part of the body that is called the male brain. Anyway, this isn't a normal day perhaps, but be that as it may, I find myself unable to type anything remotely coherent given the fact that there seem to be no two sentences that I am able to string together that are not on quite different topics.

In a strange kind of way, that paragraph leads quite neatly onto one of the things that I was contemplating. Reading what I had written left me quite lost about what, if any, point I was trying to make and that is only reinforced the belief that was driven home last night by a question that I found myself faced with. Quite simply, words, for all their adequacy in certain situations, are so woefully inadequate when they are truly needed.

Could you define the expression on the face of a person who looks upon the endless sea and sees therein simply the concept of complete and absolute freedom? Could you describe in words the feelings of parents casting their eyes for the first time on their first-born? Could you describe in words what you mean by perfection and your emotions if you were perhaps to be confronted by it or him or her in your astonishingly short lifetime?

That of course, is another issue at hand, for what is it that deserves a superlative? Being, as I am, a follower of the school of thought that would have us believe that superlatives are best used sparingly, a subject I find worth contemplating is about what - if anything – constitutes a person, situation or happenstance that would warrant the use of one of those words that I am so disinclined to use.

And then what exactly is it that causes one to pause and look around and then feel like one in a dream looking about as Barrett so beautifully summed up “on the outside looking in”?

Then too, one wonders why a dream can’t be made to follow the direction one wishes it to take. Why for instance, does my noble steed always seem to end up either tripping over my shoelaces, that seem to start growing inordinately in my dreams, or rear up and neigh in fright at the sight of a hedgehog or some such? Why does it always happen that just as I find myself in a lovely place, there’s a truck that runs me over?

That of course is so different from the waking dreams one has that seem to follow the straight and narrow, so to speak, without any real conscious effort. In that drowsiness, somehow one is always smiling as the dream meanders down the path one would have wished it to…without one actually knowing what is happening. Even the silken touches seem more real at that time… Strange perhaps…and then again…

Talking of silken touches, has anyone ever quite understood the sheer joy of standing by the seaside and feeling the reality that is the mystery of everlasting and never-ending bliss? Just that one moment of connection, while gazing out at the setting Sun seems to last forever. The sea, afire and alive and yet so astonishingly silent as it roars out with the smashing of the waves on each other and on the walls of the sea-front…

However, while so woefully inadequate at times, words seem to possess a life of their own when woven by those who seem to create an interwoven mesh of pure magic. At times, a verse can scream out thoughts; thoughts that nobody could word or mouth, but which through that verse seem to take a life of their own. To be honest, I envy such persons and can only bow down and hail their extraordinary and blessed talent and wonder whether such a level could be attained by another who wasn't perhaps born with that magic touch.

It is not of vivid descriptions I speak here, but of abstract thoughts, worded in seemingly simple lines. Herein lies the true art, for the words by themselves are apparently masking nothing and stating but simple facts. As is quite obvious, I find myself unable to express just what I am thinking, yet not attempting to do so seems impossible. 'The essential dilemma of the reluctant ignorant' would perhaps be an apt statement of my state of mind on this one.

If dawn was all and dusk never fell,
Would the farewell last no more?
Would you still await the morn?
But then, there'd be no night at all...

Honey-Flavoured Cyanide

2006-07-26T00:36:00.000-07:00

Of all the days that have passed in the last few months, this is one of the toughest I’ve had to spend. I can’t for the life of me figure out just what I should be doing and for some reason, even my usually ultra-reliable laziness is not coming to my rescue to ease my restlessness. Strange when one pauses to think of just how inert (No, not inept, inert) and lazy I am under normal circumstances… Ah well, the trick is to keep breathing…

A much better dawn may await the sleeping,
Than the dusk you hold in your embrace.
But would you see the never-ending sea,
Or choose to live the next man’s Fate?

Don’t lose your way, stand still at the fork,
I’ll rescue your faith as I’ve done before,
Try not to fail as you try no more,
Nobody suffered in oblivion

Stand still and cry or walk and smile,
For a little while, leave the fear behind,
For each one that tried, a million died,
Fame is naught, but what of pride?

It wasn’t the day, but the mind of yore,
When you spoke again of the holding of more
For each step you ponder in your mind,
Hark back to when the past left you behind

If that was you, what would I be?
Or would you perhaps light it up for me?
A million flames now lick the sky,
Where a moment before the last spark did die

A wall behind but that’s still the way,
I can’t go on, for I’m not there,
Of those that are, not a word I say,
For maybe tomorrow, myself I’ll betray

Help Me Roll Away the Stone

2006-07-20T10:11:00.000-07:00

There can’t be anything that is less gratifying to a person like me than seeing people not err and trip up over their own shoelaces once in a while. The dear SD Sharma (then President) proved himself incredibly astute in gauging the desires of the adoring and expectant masses and did not disappoint on that count – obliging all of us by very nicely falling over at the Republic Day Parade while trying to wear his slippers. *Sigh* I think we can safely refer to those as the good old days.

Yeah, well, things move on and sadly cameramen these days are far more astute, but I quite frankly think that this is only half the problem. The bigger problem for the adoring and ever-willing-to-be-entertained masses – me obviously being a part of this category – is that the protagonists of these situations have grown even smarter than the cameramen and editors.

In today’s era of smart thinking, quick action and infallible logic, there could never arise a situation like the SDS one I mentioned above. If Sonia Gandi happened to trip over Sheild D’s backside, you’d hardly be able to see the photograph on the front page of the next day’s ToI. Sure, the cameraman may have captured it and the editor may even be allowed to bung it in and publish it, but circulation and viewing of the paper would be banned.

Indian Express of course would also be banned as their not carrying the picture would not by any means be a guarantee that they didn’t perhaps have some other anti-national stuff – like an article detailing how FIFA has handed Zidane a 3-match ban (It’s true, they have. Wonder what they thought retirement means, but still…) or how the editor believes that women’s education is a must for the way forward.

DNA and Hindu would not be banned of course, since the circulation of these two would be regarded as being too low for them to be considered as threats to national unity and homeland security. Oh well, too bad if you don’t subscribe to those because changing newspaper brands would need you to buy back-dated copies of your new choice from their date of beginning circulation…except of course that access to these back-dated copies would also be banned…

Yes, life-forms around me these days seem so logical and intelligent! The poor Doctor declared with complete faith that India would win the “War on terrorism” as he called it and then fired his first salvo already, by getting the G-8 to condemn the attacks in Bombay. The effect was shattering to the enemy, as in a departure from normal, the G-8 leaders actually condemned terrorism for a change and told him that India had been a very responsible child. As a result, they rewarded Doctor by telling him he was doing a sterling job and that India was headed in the right direction.

If there were any terrorists who did not renounce their paths due to this, they are surely going to be forced into giving up terrorism forever and be forced to live a mundane life after Doctor Singh fired his bonus weapons. I mean, really, with blogs blocked, we really have them on the run! They’ll never know who is to bomb what, nor when to call up the Mastermind blogger whose comment book too will obviously be inaccessible…

Having got them on the run – if not shivering in some jail cell post-surrender – Doctor is now going to let loose the biggest Indian weapon of them all – peace talks with the General. If I were a terrorist I would really prefer being in Lebanon at this moment…really…after all, who wouldn’t prefer the much safer atmosphere there, with friendly air-drops and the palsy-walsy country across the border? That nice Hezbollah there would ensure that I didn’t ever have to figure in peace talks et al…sheer bliss and lifelong safety and security for my family…

Bombs away then...

A Big F*ck You To Peace (Alternative - Of Terrorism and Impotency)

2006-07-13T02:05:00.000-07:00

The cleaner version of the post below...altered and edited for family reading...

"We make no distinction between those who comitted these acts of terrorism and those who harbour them"

"In this war, there are only two sides. With us or with them"

Statements made by GW Bush after 9/11.

If only India had even a shred of pride, a response would be given. To date, not one person has been even convicted in the 1993 blasts case. Pakistan continues to be a target for "friendship".

To date, India has yet to mount even a single pro-active campaign against the bases of any single terrorist organisation, barring the terrorism in Punjab.

To date, India has yet to even label Pakistan as an antagonistic nation.

India continues to spend hundreds of crores, nay, make that thousands of crores, every year on defense expenditure. Most seems to go towards the last rites of the soldiers killed by terrorists whom they are not allowed to shoot.

To date, India has yet to display even once that she has the steel and resolve to respond appropiately to any act of aggression on her citizens.

To date, India has yet to inspire even an ounce of fear in any terrorist.

India is the softest of soft targets. It is similar to the scenario where a man rapes your sister, stabs your brother, shoots your father and strips your mother and you call him a brother and try to embrace him. Every day Indians are killed, women are raped and the country is stripped and shamed and every day we make overtures of friendship to the perpetrators.

Sad to say, it is perhaps time that we made it official that Gandhi is not the idol after all. He was a violent man. He turned his other cheek to a slap. We don't believe in such harsh acts. We turn around, take our pants off and bend over before the slap is delivered...except that it is much more than a slap.

How much longer are we to tolerate being shafted? How much longer do we praise the 'resilience' of the Indian people? It's not resilience, it's apathy and numbness. We no longer seem to feel the anger. Instead we continue as if it were just a daily occurence. The way things are going, it may soon become a part of daily life.

Perhaps I am a nationalist. Is that bad? Is it bad to love your country? Is it a heinous crime? Every time an American citizen is taken hostage, the entire nation unites and demands that justice be served and the offenders punished fast and in ruthlessly.

Every time an Indian is killed, we...well...we don't even realise it. Pride? We have none. Post 9/11, say what you will, no act of terror has been comitted on American soil, despite a stream of statements and commands from the snake in the hole, Osama. The war on Afghanistan was a failure? Err...I think it accomplished what it set out to do.

Every act of terrorism is a sort of call to the nation that suffers it, to rise up in arms and stamp out the perpetrators. As long as that is not done, the offender continues to gain strength and spirit.

America showed that even destroying an entire country was not beyond her, if she was attacked. India showed that even self-destruction is not beyond her in her quest for being seen as a 'resilient' and 'peace-loving' nation. Take your pick of which you would rather be. Personally, I'd prefer being alive...and only one of these paths can get one there.

Dawood Ibrahim - In Pakistan
Memons - In Pakistan
Masood Azhar - In Pakistan

The list continues. Yet, of course, Pakistan is a friend! "India must resolve the real issues" was the response of the Paki Foreign Minister to the blasts. For once, I think he is right. India must finally get off her backside and resolve the real issue. And the real issue seems obvious to me...

When a weed is to be exterminated, one strikes at the roots. Perhaps therein lies the clue. It's not as if anyone in this country is blind to the truth. Yet what is vexing is that for the most part, people are now accustomed to shutting their eyes to the obvious...someday the pain will hit close to home...what a tragedy that perhaps the day they join the fight will perhaps be the day that they'll have lost what they're fighting for...

A Big F*ck You To Peace

2006-07-13T00:41:00.000-07:00

The post below is not hot-headed. It is written in cold blood. Something has snapped within me and I’ve had enough. If you’re offended by the post or if you don’t agree with any aspect of it, don’t try debating with me because I won’t bother listening to you.

So Mumbai has suffered yet another terrorist attack and we sit by and praise the resilience of the citizens of the great city. People shower praise on the “Spirit of Mumbai” and politicians praise the people for helping those affected in this, the hour of extreme need. Yet I, and I am sure I am not alone, can’t help but feel disgusted by this attitude.

Since 1993, Mumbai has suffered six major terrorist attacks. Websites publish articles on the 5 must-dos and list making of the will etc as the imperatives. Is this all that we can do? Have we no balls? No self-respect? No pride? Are we to accept terrorism as a part of daily life?

The Home Minister of India said he was clueless and would talk to Soniaji about it. The PM said he was surveying the situation, had beefed up security in Delhi, put several areas on high alert and was scheduled to meet…yes…Soniaji. Who is that fucking bitch anyway? The c*** holds no position of any authority and is a damned nobody. In this hour, why is that c*** the one being consulted? What does she know about the situation anyway?

Yet, let me not diverge from the point I was getting at. When George W Bush addressed the US of A in a state of the nation address after the 9/11 attacks, he made a statement that is etched in my memory. “We make no distinction between the terrorists who committed these acts and those who harbour them”. I became a fan of the man who wrote that line as well as the ideology behind it.

When Parliament was attacked, I awaited similar steel from the Indian Government. It started off all right, but then fizzled out. Then there were serial blasts in Mumbai and once again I awaited a show of pride. Now, there have been serial blasts yet again in Mumbai and all I feel is despair. Is this what we are? A nation of impotent peaceniks with no pride who are just waiting to be hit by terrorists whom we would rather call ‘militants’ lest we offend them or their masters?

I for one can not understand the national psyche of India and Indians. Let’s see now. Dawood Ibrahim? In Pakistan. The Memon brothers? In Pakistan. Masood Azhar? In Pakistan. Terrorist training camps? In Pakistan. So, what should we do? Umm, have confidence-building measures with the country and try enhancing trade with them. Love them and say that they are great, friendly people. Yeah, makes sense. Fuck you too.

I hate Pakistan. Want more? I think every single Pakistani without exception should be exterminated in a war that would put to shame the WW2 casualties. I also think the ungrateful extremist bastards in Bangladesh should be annihilated for the role that they now have and their al-Q links. Want still more? I think I am being nice. Personally, I’d like to torture the miserable bastards to a slow death over a week’s period…

I also think that India should stop all defence expenditure if we are not going to follow the course of action I described above. We have an impressive array of arms and weapons, not to mention missiles, tanks, aircraft etc. Yet, if we are never going to use them, why spend on them at all? Deterrent? Excuse me, but it kind of works as I will outline blow:

Someone comes up to you and taunts you. You don’t react. Then the person taunts and insults your race, religion and family. You still stay impassive. Then the person slaps your parents. You try to make friends with the chap. Then that guy rapes your sister, stabs your father, shoots your brother and strips your mother. You try to embrace him and call him your brother. If that is what a person is like, then I think you’d agree that any money this person spends on a gym or buying a revolver is kind of a waste?

Now, while that example may seem extreme, it is exactly what has happened with India. People are killed, women are raped and the country is stripped of its pride in each of these attacks and yet we respond just like the loser in that example. Makes sense now?

I know that people are going to talk about how war is senseless and never resolves anything. All I can say is that this is untrue. If a war is fought and seen through to its end, it works. Look at WW2. And let’s also acknowledge one fact. At times, war is the only solution. How does one deal with those harbouring terrorists? If someone can outline a plan that will work, I’ll gladly tear it apart. Want an example? Look at that disastrous attempt that was made by the previous government in Kashmir, when they declared a ‘unilateral ceasefire’. Huh? Why wasn’t I surprised at what followed? Terrorists want nothing less than to own you. Where is the middle ground then? They are extremists and the only way to deal with an extremist is in extremes!!!

They are governed by no laws and make a mockery of the ones that govern us. Murder, for them is the aim. Will they ever be satisfied? No! Their existence is based on finishing ours. In that case, for me, it is damned simple. Better me than them.

I think it’s time to say that enough is enough. We’ve lain down far too long now. We’ve taken all the shit we could and now its time to kick some terrorist butt. Bomb them, nuke them, torture them, but kill at any cost. They deserve no mercy. Balls to bloody human rights. That’s a topic I will address later though.

How much longer will we continue to just talk about resilience and spirit? Is that what life is about? Ask those dead. Ask their families. Resilience? The biggest example of resilience is that fact that India survives as a nation despite the impotent whores who govern her. I don’t think India is a strong nation. I think India is among the weakest nation in the world and if we fail to respond even now, we will have proved it.

Why is terrorism on the rise in India? Simple. Because by reacting the way India does, India has convinced every terrorist that come what may, we shall not take any action. We do not believe in it. The collective psyche of India is: “Slap me and I won’t turn the other cheek. I’ll turn around, take my pants off and bend over”.

And yes, if you don’t agree with me, I don’t accept your opinion. I think you’re a loser whose self-respect is nil. I think you’re an impotent loser who will never be respected by those around you. I also think you’re anti-national. To borrow a quote from George Bush (much though I dislike the man, he has a brilliant speech-writer), “In this situation, if you’re not on our side, you’re on their side”. After 20 years of seeing impotent bystander reactions and the results, I for one think you’re a lunatic if you still can’t see sense.

With Finality Begins Eternity

2006-07-11T01:35:00.000-07:00

Why try to look beyind when you can't see a few feet ahead? Does the mind ever tarry a moment to ponder over the beauty of a life that lacks nothing but a life? Maybe it's only a kind of fear, but there are moments when the endless ocean seems to hold less secrets than a body shorn of all covers but one...

They want to be somebody and then blame me,
For every time they tried and fell,
And every bruise of which they don't tell,
For every smile they faked and then hid,
For every time they tried to themselves forbid,
And when they looked and saw the time,
Realising the years that had passed behind,
But then it was all just an accident

The spirit rose but the wick had burnt out,
When you're afire, would you lie back and sigh?
But of the promise that I had held out,
They betook only the part of which I lied,
Where they sought, they found it all,
Yet what can you find when you're blind?
If truth be told, they'd sooner I die,
But they linger in hatred and hilarity

When the dark is made of pure light,
Take a leap lest you open the eye,
For it was never meant to be the way you see,
I'm hiding lest you get me in your sights
They seek a Grail they'll never find,
And stand tall where great men crawl,
The everlasting irony,
Will haunt the one that glances down

Await the day you dig my grave,
Await the day you carry me away,
Maybe I was just that hateful slave,
And maybe I was the gift you gave away,
Wanted not but wasted still,
A mind so full it saw in life peril,
Take it to the one that haunts my dreams,
Forsake the pain and rest six foot deep

It burnt, it pained and singed the hair,
Yet the parting never was betrayed,
Could a ditch ever take me full,
Or would it be the dance floor?
The music plays and tears them apart,
The words will swirl for Eternity,
When facing the lie no one could ever buy,
Every joy will rest on mourning

Still the one remains apart,
Twisting away from the feeble tries,
They encircle and raise victorious cries,
Before finding once more a denial,
That caresses a self lost in another,
Yet that last ember it can’t find or kill,
But when die is cast and Fate unfulfilled,
The toil still never will be uphill

To find a peak let’s go rushing down,
Leave the guide behind and seek what I hide,
When hands that laid the peace to rest,
Rise to exhort another pause in life
Hallowed is what lies beneath,
A tear unstained, unfelt, unseen,
Just as they seek the liar’s dream,
Of what I speak you’ll never feel

To Be True Is To Lie...

2006-07-10T03:43:00.000-07:00

Why do you take that ‘breather’ of yours every five minutes?
I like it. I like having those few minutes to just relax a bit and think of things other than work.
Do you realize how much time you end up wasting every day because of that? Try cutting that out. It reduces productivity and disrupts concentration.
I don’t think it is a waste of time and quite frankly, I couldn’t care less about what you call ‘productivity and yeah, lest I forget, my concentration span is less than 20 minutes anyway. And please stop nagging me about work. I don’t like it. I work because I have to, so stop trying to ‘motivate’ me already!
Don’t you have any pride? Don’t you feel like you should fulfill your potential and do something worthwhile?
Refer above for the first bit and as for the second, trust me, you don’t want to know what I call worthwhile…

You are capable of being so sociable at times! Why can’t you always be like that?
Perhaps the temporal aspect is less relevant in the ‘at times’ which may have more to do with the recipients of the afore-mentioned behaviour.
You know that is not true, so stop fibbing.
Untrue? Perhaps it is, come to think of it, when you say that from a solely grammatical and syntactical perspective, but what about the circumstances that surround such instances? Call it choice or whatever you will, but there is always an environment.
That would be hypocrisy, wouldn’t it? And let’s face it, what I say is also true of purely social interactions.
Some people deserve better and some worse. As for hypocrisy, once again I suppose that depends on perspective and the priority one gives to one’s various priorities…

Why don’t you learn from your errors and just take the plunge for once in your life?
And on the same note, why don’t I try wearing a toga to work tomorrow?
Stop being the clown and think seriously about what I am saying. Time and conviction has cost you so dearly in the past. As they say, ‘Better to bend than be broken’.
Try telling that to an oak tree.
Then stop trying to be an oak tree and learn from a willow.
Then again, perhaps you would appreciate the toga, huh?
Talking sense to you is like trying to break a brick wall with one’s head!
Would you like that toga red or black? Oh and yeah, experience tells me that a lie is generally more flexible…

It’s time you started loving yourself. Nobody can love anyone or anything, unless he or she loves his or her self first!
Yeah, Narcissus was such a great example of that. Ever wondered why the vain are so alone?
It’s got nothing to do with vanity. Everything does not exist only in extremes, you know.
True and yes, I do know that, but could you please enlighten me on that illuminating opening comment? Somehow, the more I contemplate the subject, the less coherent your remark seems to be.
Well, it’s simple. A person who feels inadequate would be so consumed in his own perceived shortcoming that they would engulf his being and become at least a pseudo-reality.
Perhaps a good read on the difference between confidence and vanity is in order for you. Oh and of course, a refresher course on verbosity would suit you well too.

It’s funny in a way when I think about how tragic and melancholy your existence is. It’s funny because it’s the melancholy that makes it tragic.
How do you know it’s melancholy? Maybe it’s not melancholy, but just the way the entire scheme of things pans out. Perhaps you aren’t able to see the other side and while the road there may seem one way, the destination may be the exact opposite. As may the road itself to the traveler…
Err…life’s a journey, not a destination.
Stop giving me clichés. And as far as that crack is concerned, who spoke about life being a destination? It may be a journey, it may be a road, but remember that both those have destinations too.
That’s the point, isn’t it? This is life. It’s not about destinations. Life is to be enjoyed. To be lived! It’s not a trip to a certain point!
And if that is so, then what is death? What is life itself for that matter? Is it really just that interlude that is defined as the span of time between a ‘birth’ and a ‘death’? Or is there more to it than that? Is that ‘birth’ in itself a small part of a larger continuum? What is sleep? Why does one remember things otherwise but not when one sleeps? What is…
*Sigh* There you go again… And perhaps that answers my question more than any other answer you could ever give me…
Or perhaps your question itself has now become an answer…or my answers could have become your question…

Fever...and it's B&W (like the ball)...not Yellow ;-)

2006-07-08T14:51:00.000-07:00

Have just finished watching the 3rd place match of the World Cup and just felt like making a post about that. I love football and I think it would be a crime if I let this occasion pass. Coming into the WC, I was open in my support for the Dutch, Germans and Portuguese in that order. As it happened, things did not quite work out, but hey, that happens. Here’s my take though.

This edition, more than any other that I have seen though, seemed to have a lot to do with the managers, rather than individual players. In most tournaments, you have a particular team that is excellent in terms of work-rate or more importantly and more commonly, a fantastic player who makes the difference. This time though, it was the managers who came to the fore and determined what happened to the teams…

1. Holland: My pre-tournament favourites. They had been playing breath-taking football and were on a real roll. And then, it all fell apart in that match against Portugal. The main reason I support Holland is Marco van Basten. I am convinced that he is the greatest footballer the world has ever seen and given the way he started shaping his squad, I felt he was headed for the moon. His aim, first and foremost, was to create a squad that would not squabble and would be united.

Ironic then, that this was exactly the point where he himself failed. In the match against Portugal, Holland created chance after chance only to see each one wasted. Yet, van Basten did not bring on Ruud van Nistelrooy, who is arguably the best finisher in Europe…at least one of the top 3. Why? Well, if rumours and statements are to be believed, it was an ego issue. How typical… I hope they get over it, for this team is certainly one to watch out for in the future. Young, dynamic…and all they need is a striker who converts chances and a manager who plays him…

2. Germany: For some reason, I have always liked German sportspersons, be it Becker, Graf, Michael Schumacher or Klinsmann, Mattheus,Ballack and Schweinsteiger. Before the tournament therefore, despite what people were saying, I backed the Germans to do well. I believed that with a striker of Klinsmann’s quality in charge, they would definitely do well and make a mark an quite frankly, they did not disappoint.

The Germans forsook their normal defensivce style and took on a more scoring-oriented approach and it paid off! They were entertaining and took their opponents by surprise and got far further than they were expected to! I am extremely glad they took third place at least for they really did deserve reward for their attacking approach in a competition that has seen teams adopt a predominantly defensive approach. The error that they made? Well, why on Earth was Schweinsteiger on the bench for the semi???

3. Argentina: Well before the tournament began, it was apparent that the Albicieste had the best squad in terms of talent as well as depth, but that they had a manager who could easily waste all of that and more! And that is exactly what happened. What more need I say than the fact that against a German team that was bent on equalising and had the crowd behind it, Pekerman substituted all the attacking players with defensive ones, with more than 15 mintues to go and Lionel Messi and Saviola did not get a look-in in that match. Sad but true. The most talented and perhaps best overall group of players left empty-handed thanks to a terrible, terrible manager.

4. Brazil: Parreira really didn’t have a clue or a plan, did he? He seemed to be praying that the individual brilliance of his players would see him through and it may have done too! But what was Ronaldo doing on the pitch…with that paunch of his…while Robinho was on the bench? And pray, just why is Roberto Carlos thought of highly? That goal in the quarter summed it up for me. He is useless as a defender…

5. France: Pure luck and screw-ups by the opposition. No skill whatsoever. No talent whatsoever. Barring Zidane in that one game against Brazil that is. With a simian as a striker, what more can one expect?

6. Italy: Great, great squad. I remembering a friend of mine before the WC started that this time around, Italy had the best squad they had had in years, yet they were under-rated (partly due to the scandal) and expectd to flop. They started badly, but have really picked up. Once again though, and I say this before the final, they may yet regret the manager’s decision to play Toni as lone striker. They have a formidable array of strikers with Gilardino and Inzaghi, not to mention Iaquinta, on the bench…yet Toni, who has been disappointing, seems to retain Lippi’s faith. I hope he can pay it back..or that Lippi sunbs him early 

7. Portugal: If it was not for Figo and Ronaldo, I would say that this team was a bunch of very ordinary players. But they are not… The sad part? The manager, the universally acclaimed Scolari, was unable to see something that everyone else seemed to see. When you are trailing, it makes no sense to play a lone striker!!! Specially when that striker is a Pauleta… Still, they will learn and in Ronaldo, they have a world-beater.

Overall, I hope Italy thrash the living daylights out of the French tomorrow. I hate Italy normally, but simians like Monkeyface Henry, who do not know how to play football, do not deserve to touch that trophy and hence I am backing Italy which clearly is the better team. Yet, given the record of my favourites over the past two years, you can rest assured that France will nick it . If that happens though, I will really start believing that the entire WC is a farce and a rigged competition…something like WWE wrestling…

Already the Golden Ball nominees have made me believe that there is massive corruption that riddles FIFA from within…and if France win, there will be no further doubt about that…

In Mars We Trust - XI

2006-06-29T23:37:00.000-07:00

I have really never understood why women are so obsessed with this whole maturity trip! What makes maturity such a desirable quality? Specially considering that none of them is able to define it!

I personally believe that ‘maturity’ is something invented by women who lack any fun in life to explain just why they are so lifeless and why people who are full of life are to be pitied rather than admired. That’s why a ‘mature’ person won’t go out and party or just decide to do something that he/she feels like regardless of what other ‘mature’ people would think about it!

She: What? You watch WWE??? (The erstwhile WWF for those who’re wondering)
Me: Yeah, so? I think it’s funny!
She: But that’s so immature!!!
Me: Eh? Why?
She: Well…it…it just is!

Immature. Ever counted how many times women use that word? It’s almost like they have some sort of fetish for using that word. Everything a guy does that a woman doesn’t like or approve of, it’s immature! So, drinking beer in a pub with friends while watching a football game is of course the height of immaturity.

Please note though, as a guy, it’s highly recommended that you do not try to debate the relative maturity of sitting all evening watching Desperate Housewives, Sex and the City, contemplating falling in love with a plumber or of course, discussing the dimensions of the assets of the sundry partners that one has had. Experience tells me that women tend to segregate the maturity of these activities based on gender…and then of course, they call us the sexists!

Sample this, if you will:

Me: So, what did you do over the weekend?
S: Nothing much. Some friends came over, so we were discussing what X plans to do when she gets married…as in on ‘that night’.
Me: What?
S: Yeah! I mean, she was discussing how they got to Base 2 last time and…
Me: Excuse me! I mean, you discuss explicit details…damn, you probably even discuss dimensions in that case!
S: Yeah! So? Big deal!

Next day:

Me: Yeah, well K was just talking about how his fiancée has pretty weird taste in tops…
S: What??? You discuss your girlfriends with each other???
Me: Err…so? I mean, it’s not like we mention even a tenth of the stuff you people do!
S: No way! That’s so ungentlemanly! It’s so…so…so immature!
Me: So, what is maturity?
S: Well…just acting…I mean, just behaving in a mature manner…you know…well, you know what I mean…it’s just being mature!!!

There you are then. Typical female hypocrisy… This really got me thinking though. Just what is it with women and this whole maturity trip?

You watch WWE? That’s so immature!
You spent the entire evening watching football and drinking beer? That’s so immature!
You like driving fast? That’s so immature!
I can’t watch a Rowan Atkinson film! It’s so immature!
Mithun? Ewwww! How immature!
You like blondes? That’s so immature!
How can you wear T-shirts with slogans? It’s so immature!!

And then, in a moment of pure frustration, the truth struck me, like a teak bulwark would strike a sailor doing an Archimedes impression on the deck on a sinking ship (Tragic analogy perhaps, but at least you get the drift!). It’s the same concept as that old joke:

Q: Why do women close their eyes while kissing?
A: Coz they can’t bear to see a man having a good time!

It’s true. Women, I have grounds to conclude, essentially believe that men have no right to have any fun, lest it is with them around to approve and thereby make the men feel even more slavish than they did before! It’s their complete lust for control in its most blatant and uninhibited form, though some might say that the word blatant is misused here as they do mask it ever so beautifully in the garb of ‘maturity’ and trying to ‘alleviate the poor male soul’, trying to - as Florence Craye and Vanessa Cook so beautifully worded it – ‘nurture the latent potentialities of the sleeping mind’. *Sigh*.

I rather think that this is the very reason that women prefer older men. Let’s face it – with no offence meant to the senior citizens that the mayor of Bangalore would have us believe are out assets – older men don’t really have that many outlets for fun apart from those nubile young women they romp with…and of course, the women enjoy the shopping for those ever-so-mature beauty aids!

Come to think of it, when was the last time a chappie with a girlfriend really had a good time? I can’t think of anyone who can claim to have had one…without his girlfriend being around to approve of course…and of course, apart from those romps in the back rooms which I should not mention (since I am a guy) and which the woman is around to approve of as a mature act anyway…yeah…the same romps that the women dissect when they are indulging in mature verbal intercourse!

I wondered after reaching these illuminating conclusions though, as to what the remedy to this dilemma may be. After all, one does not wish to upset the fairer sex for fear of the fact that we may deprive them of the opportunity to discuss a romp – a romp which, if I be permitted to say it, we men enjoy much more than the women enjoy the discussion (after all touch is more potent – in more ways than one – than words! How much can a Penthouse letters do for one after all?).

The bottomline guys, is that unless you’re really stupid you will fall for that maturity thing. And no, there was no typo in that previous sentence. Remember, at the end of the day, she can’t really police you all the time…and hey, there’s no real match in the real world for a good old-fashioned romp… And to top it all, Ten Sports re-telecasts WWE in the mornings…so you don’t miss the really good and enjoyable part of life either!

Then Again...Perhaps It's Just Me...

2006-06-14T08:53:00.000-07:00

The past few days have really been a breeze. I’ve had no time for doing anything at all other than lounge around and chill out, from when I’m making a mental list of all the things I need to buy to furnish my apartment to watching the football at the TGIF next foor. Given me tons of time for thinking of all kinds of things, ranging from work to my future and also why I seem to perpetually be in a state of abeyance when it comes to deciding just what I should do next…in more senses of time than one.

One thing that has stood out more than most others in this time though, has been the fact that just about everyone in the current generation – and that includes me – seems to move less from one state of mind to another and more from one complaint to another. It’s a malaise that is so widespread that I don’t think we even notice it ourselves. It sets in real early of course and for that, we can thank our fantabulous education system and the Indian obsession with academics and qualifications.

For more time than I care to recall, I have moved from one goal to another…constantly accompanied by a growing and gnawing feeling of dissatisfaction. There’s been only one phase in my life when I can’t recall having felt any such emotion and needless to say, that didn’t last too long either.

I’m not saying that it’s wrong to be dissatisfied or to have high aims. I happen to endorse aiming high. It’s just that I feel that at a certain point we tend to allow the dissatisfaction to cloud our judgment in gauging just what is causing the feeling. It’s endemic really and it’s not a very nice thing to see happening around you – particularly when you start feeling that perhaps you’re prey to the same syndrome yourself…

One thing that has almost always made me laugh is reading these celebrity interviews where the interviewee declares that he or she absolutely detests hypocrites. Oh yeah? Awesome mate…ironic, but good for ya ;-). The sad part of course is that the older people grow and the further they drift apart, particularly geographically, the more hypocritical they seemingly become. Helps me smile a bit once in a while to think of it, but that’s the way things are.

The conclusion I have reached on that of course, is that the greater the timespan since your last interaction and the more courses you’ve done since then, the more hypocrisy you will be privileged to be witness to. Like people claiming to be your best buddies after having thoroughly despised you over the course of half a lifetime.

It seems as if people are so diffident about themselves that they can’t even decide whom they like and whom they don’t. They seem so lost that at times you begin to wonder whether they are indeed the ones of whom it was so appropriately said that they are to be pitied rather than censured.

Yet, we move on…and then the realization hits home that for some reason, it seems to be this very hypocrisy that gets people places. Look down upon it if you will. Frown upon those you deem to be that way or the ones you term sycophants…but after a certain point of time, people start saying it’s jealousy that causes it…and it’s not because they’re tired of hearing you say what you think…it’s mainly for they’ve understood and chosen the course they wish to follow. Would you care to do it? Your call. Do you do it already? Think and the answer may shock you…

That of course brings one back a full circle to the question of just who you are! Are you the person you imagine when you’re with yourself? Are you the person the ones around you think you are? Or are you just an elusive construct that nobody including you ever gets to see?

At the end of the day, it all depends on the confidence one places in oneself. That’ what will determine the definition one chooses to choose, so to speak. It’s a function of the person one wishes one was correlated to the person one has been successful at projecting and of course, the person one realizes as perhaps existing…with the twist of course coming from the element of honesty one is willing to throw in when pronouncing judgment in each of these areas.

Ah well, as Bruce Dickinson once said, “Maybe someday I’ll be an honest man. Upto now, I’ve done the best I can…” Wasted Years indeed…

Lunch? Dinner's On The House Too! - II

2006-05-25T23:33:00.000-07:00

None of us – neither those that write or post on the issue, nor those that read the same, nor the ones that participate in or lead marches and rallies on either side – has investigated the entire issue of reservations. The only investigation into the same was done was by the ‘Group of Ministers’ and one of the leading lights was of course, Monsieur Pranab Mukherjee.

Post the inevitable thumbs-up from this group, Mr. Mukherjee said openly on a television interview that the GoM was unanimous in their opinion and that the government would not permit any ‘non-political’ body or person to look into the issue. Arjun Singh too (as you would have read in that interview with Karan Thapar) has refused to really divulge any details at all on this increased reservation by 27%! Strange, when one considers that the Act ensuring Free Access to Information to the public was one of the closest to the PM’s heart!!!

I mentioned that there were a few issues that I had not touched upon in the previous post. Well, here they are:

Point #6
The merit argument is unfair as can be seen in the fact that over 65% of the top 2000 candidates in TN are from the reserved categories.

Counter
Sure! But then, TN (by virtue of a Constitutional Amendment that over-rides the Supreme Court ruling, has 69% reservation anyway! Do the Math for yourself and then let’s reopen the discussion on this point.

Point #7
Reservations will ensure diversity in batches and show the ‘real India’.

Counter
Sure. Let’s also have the IITs and IIMs adopt a better policy! To ensure more diversity in the intellectual capital, let’s have them recruit the top 50% and the bottom 50% after the Entrance exams. After all, the ‘real India’ can’t be all smart!!! There must be a fair number of people with low IQs in the public…we need that perspective too, don’t we? As per the law, there is no caste system and in today’s cosmopolitan society, different castes don’t have different ‘cultures’. It’s region, language and economic strata that cause this diversity, not caste.

I think it is quite obvious by now – or should be at any rate – that reservations are merely a sham put on by the politicians to earn – or at least to not lose – votes in certain sections of society.

Now, I’d like to raise a few other points which the pro-reservation guys also touch upon. For one thing, they blame the general category students of looking down upon those from the reserved category and say that this is a great example of the crying need for reservations!

I think this is totally asinine! If anything, this reason actually proves why caste-based reservations defeat the very purpose for their existence. I have yet to see any student looking down upon a financially less fortunate person who avails of the need-based scholarships. Indeed, these students are greatly admired as everyone realizes the effort that these students have put in and the hardships they have endured to reach the position that they are in.

The scholarships do not detract from the achievement. They are seen as a just and sometimes even ‘not-really-enough’ reward for these students. Reservations however, earn the scorn of the same students. The reason is obvious. The recipient of the benefits of reservations is more often than not, from the more affluent sections of society and is, most often, one of the laggards in the class (as proved by the fact that 50% of all reserved category students that enter the IITs fail to graduate even after 6 years!!!). This is then seen through the eyes of students who have seen several deserving acquaintances and friends fall by the wayside by the last 10th of a percentile. How do you expect these people to react to seeing someone with 10 percentile lower score than that person in their Institute by means of a crutch? Are they (and I too fall into this category) not justified in their judgment of the ‘quota’ student as undeserving and as a person diluting the concept of a meritocracy?

It is ironic that just a couple of years ago, Arjun Singh’s voice was the loudest in opposition to the then HRD Minister’s (MM Joshi) decision to slash fees in the IIMs to make the education more affordable and increase the number of seats to provide education to more students and also to ensure that the IIMs still drew in enough cash. He claimed that increasing the number of seats would ‘dilute the quality of education’ and that this decision ‘violated the autonomy’ of the IIMs.

Now, he has imposed reservations on the IIMs; reservations that I know the IIMs bitterly oppose. Did he consult them? I’d like to end this post by highlighting just how unfortunate the fallout is of caste-based reservations. I’ll give you three examples from my personal life, but here’s a bit of background before that.

I hail from the North of India and have spent my entire life in Bombay. Never for a minute in my upbringing was caste ever spoken about. Caste was a word I read about in the History texts; a word that we considered a relic and a reminder of a bygone era. We didn’t even know about how various castes could be gauged from surnames. Yes, that was what society was like…and then came the VP Singh government and the Mandal Commission Report…the self-immolations and the brazen bulldozing of the government. Caste politics were here to stay and these are the results.

I, along with two really close friends, have often discussed our ideas and ideals regarding how we ought to stay in India and do something good for the economy. Give back something in return for all that the nation and every single taxpayer gave us in the form of education, facilities etc. For the past few weeks, we have been discussing if it may actually be time to do a rethink now. As one of my friends pointed out, “Would you be willing to entrust the lives of your loved ones to the hands of a doctor who only got admission through the quota system?”

My friend’s father is a recruiter for one of the world’s most reputed and famous companies. He told us over dinner the other day, “I always ensure that I don’t recruit the quota candidates. Regardless of what they may seem like in an interview, you can never really be sure!”

A professor at one of the IIMs mentioned to a group of students, “The super-strict rules regarding failing students in the IIMs were framed with the intention of weeding out the quota students.”

Yes, these facts sadden me. I sympathize completely with those deserving people among the quota candidates who face these prejudices and are unfairly penalized. Yet, these are now a sad and cruel reality and the blame for this scenario quite clearly lies squarely at the doors of those that have put this unfair system in place.

Lunch? Dinner's On The House Too! - I

2006-05-24T20:37:00.000-07:00

“Government gets Dictatorial”, screamed the headlines of today’s newspapers and I did not even need to read the article to know that it spoke of the government forcing through the reservation policy that now means that from the coming academic year, all central Institutions of education – including therefore, the IITs and IIMs – will have an additional OBC quota.

At the outset of this post, I’d like to enlighten those of you that may not be aware of this fact, that even Jawaharlal Nehru, the biggest proponent of caste-based quotas at the time of Independence, had by the 1960s realized the futility and the folly of this method of ‘social justice’. In this post and the next, I just thought I’d address a few points that the proponents of quotas like to raise in their arguments. After all, if I oppose the system, I believe that I ought to have enough valid reasons and facts to contradict those that support the system!

Point #1
The entire Parliament was – for once - in unanimous agreement on this topic.

Counter
Sure! It would be political suicide to oppose these reservations in the political climes that prevail in India today. Add to that the upcoming elections in UP and you can see for yourself the reasons for not opposing this bill!

Point #2
OBCs form a huge percentage of the population of the country.

Counter
Firstly, there is no accurate or dependable survey or census that proves this point. Three surveys have thrown up numbers ranging from 28% to 52%. The argument in favour of the quotas is based on the latter figure. What if the reality is the former? What of the argument then?

Secondly, even if we do, for the sake of argument, accept the figure of 52%, so what? How does that, in any way, reinforce the argument for the system? Which survey shows that these people are ‘underprivileged’ and backward? As a matter of fact, the Communists are asking that the ‘creamy layer’ of the OBCs be excluded from the quotas. The government does not dispute that this layer exists. So, how big is this layer? And how are the ‘underprivileged’ upper castes any different from the underprivileged lower castes? Does caste determine where the person is in society today? After 50 years of Independence in a ‘caste-free’ society?

Also, is there any evidence at all to support the fact that reservations do in fact help those that are the beneficiaries of the policy? If so, why does the government refuse to exclude the progeny of those that avail of this benefit from availing of the same themselves? Surely once they are provided the education, they cease to remain backward! If not, then are quotas serving their purpose?

Point #3
The Entrance procedures for these Institutes are incorrect and do not check the merit of the students in that profession anyway. So the merit argument is pointless

Counter
This is the most fallacious and ridiculous argument of them all! Firstly, does this mean that the Entrance procedures for Engineering should check if the person is a good Engineer, for Medicine that the person is a good doctor and so on? In that case, the very course is unnecessary!

Secondly, even if we were to grant that these are indeed the wrong methods, that still does not have anything to do with the quotas! After all, if it is wrong, change the system! After all, the general category students go through the same procedures too! The very fact that one student does better than another in this system shows that in this system he is the more meritorious in this system. Why should he then be penalized based on his caste?

Moreover, reservations in this regard would then mean that the people who get in through reservation are not meritorious anyway then, right? So, what point are you trying to make?

Point #4
An increase in the number of seats will ensure that the general category students are not harmed

Counter
Firstly, being from an IIM, I can assure you that none of the IIMs has the infrastructure to support the kind of increases that would be called for. Even the HRD Mininster, the Damnable Arjun Singh, admits as much. Secondly, the issue is of merit here. So, this argument is totally irrelevant.

Point #5
Access to quality education must be provided to these sections of society and this is the best way to do so.

Counter
I agree that access must be provided. But access is a problem to the ‘backward’ sections on mainly economic grounds! Reservations do little – if anything – to address that problem. That is the reason why candidates that I see availing the reservations are all middle if not upper class citizens! So, they didn’t need the reservations anyway. The ones who needed the access are still deprived of it. That is why, to this day, almost six decades after Independence, almost all the people that were ‘backward’ at that time, remain that way.

I know that I have overlooked a few arguments, but as I mentioned at the outset, I will have another post on this issue and aim to tackle the remnants in that one and if you let me know any that you feel I ought to, I will gladly counter them too. I also know that I have not yet said anything about what I feel could be done to address the undeniable issue that there are indeed people that are deprived of the opportunity to avail of a good quality education. I intend to do so as well in the next few days, but this post is already too long to incorporate that into this.

I you see any flaws in my reasoning, please do let me know of them and I will try to either clarify or will rethink my stand.

Also, please do go through an excerpt of Karan Thapar interviewing Arjun Singh at this link. I think that interview puts beyond the realm of any doubt, the issue of just why this step has been undertaken.