STOP PRESS ! Mars sends a satellite to learn about the Earth....

News has just come in about the Union cabinet giving its nod to India's first umnanned mission to Mars. The whole idea is to be in an orbit close to Mars and conduct scientific experiments that reveal something about the geology, the climate and so on about Mars. The cost? A  piddling  70 to 90million US dollars.  Ever since the scams happened  the perception has changed, although we may be unsure of the number of zeros....

The mission to Mars may commence in 2013, or 2014, and if that doesn't work out for whatever reasons, the the next dates possible are in 2016 or 2018. And whats more, the 2016 mission might be manned (or womaned ?)...! (And no , applications are NOT invited, there will be no centralized selection test, and you cannot go on a fast)

At this point , one remembers the Chandrayan , unmanned mission to the moon, that happened a few years ago and was lauded because it found water and a  "protective magnetic field" on the moon.

I wonder if we can launch some kind of satellites, to simply hover around India, and tell us something about the climate, water and geology .  I know there may already be such satellites; but clearly , like our ministers ,they are not doing what they should

I even wonder sometimes, if we actually see the negative ( in the old photographic sense)  of the actual picture from the satellites, and do not realize it.  Because our meteorological folks simply keep on getting things wrong. A normal monsoon prediction changes to a drought in a matter of 2 months. 

It might actually be interesting to think about some other planet, say Mars,  sending a satellite to hover around the Earth, and specifically India . And it would be more than interesting to speculate on what they would see. 

Lights going on and off across half the country, as if in some celebration. Studies would later indicate that it was because of power thievery, losses in transmission and distribution.

And those collecting the information via the satellite would be aghast to see that  these same 3 things keep happening everywhere all the time.  Powers of ministers change officially even in the subcontinental dark.   Transmission losses and dicey distribution, per se, will be observed as routine  things, happening in all walks of life.

Not only will the analyzing  satellites observe our water, but they will observe how we alter the flows, sometimes by building huge dams, sometimes by simply discharging industrial muck into it, and sometimes, deliberately, by guiding it into canals, so certain power agriculturists benefit at the cost of entire cities.  They will also observe, how fields on the banks of some of the big rivers are slowly giving way to huge townships, and fancy expressways.

It might be also possible to notice floods  in some parts of the country, and folks checking  the satellite photos might simply wonder at the logic of powerful folks in helicopters  flying around trying to see the floods, as  ordinary types congregate in relief camps pointlessly expecting relief.

The geological observations , particularly in the south and east, would reveal amazing things like entire mountains being dug up, packed into trucks, and surreptitiously sold as mineral ore, as various power plants struggle with their meagre supply of coal.

Way up north, they would notice icy glaciers, where they would observe folks with weapons and flags, making do with substandard stuff and still winning , because that's what they were issued and that's what they were trained to do. And the satellite fellows would wonder about folks in a different uniform sneaking in through mountain passes and tunnels.

It would be amazing to see the  sea near Mumbai all agitated given the fact that it was being displaced by some folks trying to push it back and claiming the land for themselves. A Satellite view of various hills in and around Mumbai-Pune being emptied of trees to build hill stations would probably teach the satellite fellows a thing or two. And they would be totally perplexed to see that ten miles away from such places with Jacuzzis and infinite pools,  a line of village women could be trudging up and down across hills, with pots to collect drinking water for their daily use.

And of course, they would be amused at the number of towers sprouting up across the land, which they will learn , is for the cell phone folks.  And just within a mile of that there would be this locked up, collapsing schoolhouse with rusted windows, and an empty water tap hissing air. Flying a bit closer and they would capture images of folks carrying their sick and aged through hell and high water to reach the nearest ill equipped rural health care centre 10 miles away, because proper roads didn't seem to exist.

But the most amazing thing noted would be the number of bipeds, walking around tapping on small and big keyboards, wires in their ears, falling like garlands around their necks, side by side with visions of old chaps , in houses, sitting with rectangular maps , discussing, planets and unions of two families , and saying how Mars was causing all the problems.

Clearly the guys trying to learn from satellite observations would be confused, to say the least.   Such a let down , when their bosses  spent so much of their planets money, sending satellites into orbit to study what they saw on Earth. 

And then they would, just out of curiosity, check about the science of forecasting via planets.  Like they saw folks on the Earth doing.

Guys in green, antennas on elongated heads, pouring over charts.

And one of the big chaps would look up, clear his super long throat , shake is head, fold up his antennas, and announce, " We need to call off this project. Earth is malefic.  Won't work for us ...."   
  









  

Care of the Intense type....

It's recently been more or less an "S" less month.  (S is my household help for almost a quarter of a century now, and has figured prominently on this blog).

When "S" returned 5 days ago, she looked a bit different.  

First, there was a message saying she was down with typhoid. Her son mentioned that she could barely get up and was advised rest.  With 8 adults, and 4 small kids living there, I actually worried about the young ones catching it, till I was told that you couldn't catch typhoid sitting next to someone. 

A week later I called to find out how "S" was, and was told by one of her sons (who is on my phone contact) that she was getting better , but her eldest son was in the ICU of a neighboring big hospital, with a combination of pneumonia, jaundice and typhoid and that she had taken it very very badly.

Just when I was about to go see her at her house, one morning, she and her sister landed up at my house.  The minute she saw me she burst into tears.  I have never seen her this way, despite she having faced such tough odds in her life.

Turns out that the eldest was coughing a lot, and one evening started coughing blood; so they rushed him to a local hospital that had an ICU of sorts.  The way "S" told it, there were breathing difficulties,  and they were advised to shift him to a larger hospital  with better ICU's as "the oxygen in this place was "smaller" than the oxygen needed."   S had seen stuff on TV shows, and that was her comment on the size of the oxygen mask placed on the face. 

Then followed days of watching him from a small window. The other brothers rushing around day and night getting medicines, raising money, attending to the hospital requirements. S had seen him heaving laboriously  to breathe once through the observation window, and she couldn't get it out of her mind.  She would go there daily, and return extremely worried , not just about the son, but his young wife and two small school going kids .

I offered her financial help , but she said she would keep it in reserve. Right now , they were somehow managing.  The daily payments were in double digits in thousands, and there were some strong injections, that put you out of 8 thousand Rs for one jab. The other sons seemed to have understanding employers, and they rushed around meeting doctor appointments, their rounds, waiting outside  the ICU, and  trying to discourage their mother from making trips there.

Apparently, one of the medications, had shown an encouraging change, and the fellow would recover, but very very slowly.

" You know, money can be earned anyhow, but a life must be saved. It is so heartrending to see my son struggling like this"  she said amidst tears.

Someone had asked her to do a short prayer at the Devi temple, and offer the prasad items to the lake.  She , who followed Dr Babasaheb Ambedkars teachings, didn't really worship these Gods in real life, but she was willing to pray to anyone, and so she had done that and on her way back stopped at my place with her sister.

The entire family, including her other daughters-in-law, offered their jewellery to raise funds. It wasn't anything stored in lockers, but something they wore daily.  Her sons wore some gold chains as was the custom, and those came off too. The women offered their bangles , chains and mangalsutras.   Everyday items they wouldn't ever move out without, but then these were not "everyday" times. 

By and by, the patient recovered enough to be moved out of the ICU to a ward, and after 3 days of proper observation, was allowed to go home, with lots of restrictions of diet, movement, and enforced rest for some time. 

S did return 5 days ago, and yes, she looked a bit different. 

Her neck was totally bare.  

Although a victim of domestic violence of the worst kind in the pre IPC-498 days, it had been more than 25 years since she had left her husband behind .  Her children went and visited whenever they heard of his illnesses and problems,  were insulted by him, and returned.  But "S" insisted they follow their own standards, and do their duty by him.  She would not go. But they needed to go.

 "S" had continued to wear her old sturdy mangalsutra out of habit along with some tiny string black beads. The husband figured nowhere her scheme of things, but in a society with double standards, and preying males, it was convenient.

She was the first one to sell off all this.  The sons sold off their chains, the other daughter-in-laws offered theirs.  The current high price of gold came in handy, and they were able to raise resources at short notice.

The real riches in "S" life were not these pieces of gold. 

It was the people around her. Her own brothers and sisters, her various other son's in-laws, her own in laws, (who she, amazingly , is on excellent terms with, despite the useless husband,)  all chipped in, some staying at home managing the school kids, some making lunch tiffins for the fellows rushing around for their brother, waiting nights outside the ICU, and some even offering what monetary help they could.

S, is a proud woman. She didn't want to be in a debt, at the mercy of someone. If it came to that, she would borrow against her salary from folks she worked for, all of whom knew her for the last 20 years and more.  And we would give , no questions asked.

But she didn't.

As she said, "Should something happen to me, the worst thing would be to leave for my children, a debt that needed to be paid back. The jewellery we sold was not important. The real jewels are the kids. "

........
........

For me. There was so much to learn.



 

Oh My God !

Highlighted and translated by

One of Mumbai's temples, from the early part of the 19th century, in fact , consecrated in 1801.  Constructed by a contractor called Mr Patil, and financed completely by a rich Agri lady called Deobai. Such was the munificence of mind then that , although she herself, was,  and remained childless, she built this temple, because she was convinced that many other women would be granted their wish by the  Lord resident inside.  

A November night in 1975. It was then, from the outside, a very ordinary , managlore-tile-roofed  single storey set-up, situated in the heart, of what was then , solid middle-class-Mumbai,  on the main western thoroughfare of Mumbai that went from south to north.   Traffic was then  a delight , and it was still possible to make impromptu decisions to stop the car, park the car without tow-truck-trauma, and go visit the place .

There was one entrance, unguarded, but with a gate of sorts. You could walk right into the sanctum sanctorum, pray, acquire prasad , and leave leisurely after enjoying the ambiance.  Newly weds came there to pray, sometimes straight from a wedding reception, when the bride travelled to her new home with her newly acquired family. Folks came there with their newborn kids, to lay them at the feet of the deity, and the Lord always showered his blessings. Then there were the regulars, who came daily, some who came and recited stuff to one side, and some, who came to redeem a promise made to the lord.    

Times have changed.  For that matter, everything has changed.

The place is now a multistoreyed place, with offices et al, and priests travel up  and down in elevators to perform their assigned worship duties vis-a-vis the public.
There is a dome above all the floors, gold coated, that glistens far and wide on a sunny day.   The old entrance is now an exit. And in an adjoining road, named after one of India's greatest economists,  is a huge line of shops selling all kinds of things like flowers, sweets, souvenirs,  pooja items, and  some spurious services.

When we visited on a Saturday noon, we had to park at least 5 blocks away, and then walk through a road with police roadblocks,beeping doorways, folks in uniform peering into an xray machine, as your purses and bags tumbled by them on a conveyor belt, like at airports.  There were also some folks frisking visitors with some kind of probe.

There must have been at least 1000 visitors ahead of us as we continue walk towards what we thought was the end of the line. All the while, there were touts outside  the shops, offering to  store and look after your footwear,  advising you on specials deals by them which would allow you to skip the huge line, and or jump it. "VIP Darshan" as they called it was repeatedly on offer.  Then one enterprising guy took a look at the silver wisps of hair   predominant on our crowns, and  told us there was a special Senior Citizen's gate through which we could get in. Even accompanied by a junior citizen daughter. (I later looked for such a gate , but could not find it.)   All this while, our queue kept snaking ahead in the shape of a U, before we entered into what was a barricaded area, where you went up and down through  a maze.  At one end , we saw a gate festooned with official signs that announced priority entry for folks buying a 50Rs ticket, as well as thrilling entry facilities for folks choosing to buy a gold, or silver pass, like a season ticket.


The queue soon snaked around close to the road entrance from which folks were emerging after being frisked. Some folks develop selective vision at such points. They could not see the queue, and pretended to seamlessly merge with the queue, at a point, where at least 500 people were still in line.  The selective vision meant their feet moved surreptitiously while they looked at the temple in a dedicated manner. Fortunately, and much to their chagrin, some folks took the trouble of pointing out to them the end of the queue, and they went off trying to suppress a huff. Inching ahead, and we were soon inside, with the sanctum in sight, brilliantly lit up, profused with puja flowers and worship items.

Mumbai roads habituate us to adjusting suddenly from 6 lanes to 2, and something similar happened when it was suddenly a single line to the Lord.  True to reputation, folks simply pushed and changed lanes. I wondered what the Lord must have felt, day after day, month after month, year after year, this surge of humanity flowing in front. Several temple volunteers and folks in uniform, pleading with folks to keep moving, hold their children together, and after a quick darshan , we were out.  Collected our prasad at the exit gate, amidst assorted pushy folks, and proceeded on the final trudge home.

This particular deity, is known to grant wishes.  Its devotees are many, from all the religions.There are many stories on how people walk barefoot all night from far off places  to visit this deity, and ask for favours and blessings. I've even heard of someone who walked backward from a far flung suburb of Mumbai. Many prominent folks from the film fraternity, do this walk, followed by their security guards  and assorted cars  driving there to take them back . And millions of ordinary folks crowd there to see them. You see countless young folks in line, with families , friends, and many who make it a regular thing  as soon as examination time approaches.

I grew up in another town , where too, there are several extremely well known temples, as old as this temple, and even dedicated to the same deity, and unique  in the style and rarity of form of the deity.

As a child , I lived  on the road leading to one such temple, and was witness to several old devotees , who had their own methods of paying obeisance to the lord.  And old gentleman, would , without fail, go by at 5:30 am every single morning,  doing suryanamaskars  instead of walking all the way, reciting the concerned prayers. Regardless of season and weather.  And unaccompanied by caretakers. On reaching, he would sit inobtrusively, recoup his energy for a bit, recite his prayers, prostrate himself  before the deity (even from a distance) , collect the prasaad, and then leave,  like any other devotee, walking.

This deity also had its share of folks who got desperate as exams approached. Close to the date of the board exams, you could see young fellows doing 108 rounds around the inner sanctum, muttering their prayers earnestly.

Somewhere in the late 80's , my mother was amongst and  a member of the board trustees appointed by the government for temples such as this one and some others , like the Parvati Hill temple,  associated with this one. Then (and till to-date), the only woman amidst the board of trustees, she had been a daily visitor to these temples for several decades and was known to many.  A very god fearing, knowledgeable, fearless, and  terribly down-to-earth person, she once stopped one of these students  to ask about them spending hours doing these 108 rounds.  Turns out that they were totally depending on this deity to see them through an exam when they had not bothered to study for it.

For someone who thought studies and sports were to be pursued with equal dedication by students, and prayers and worship was part of a daily short routine
she thought, this business of throwing the onus of passing exams on the Lord was like cheating the lord.

She took them aside, and urged them to actually go back and concentrate on their studying.  Advised them that the Lord would help anyone who made an honest effort at the exams,after putting in preparatory efforts at the highest level, and that just doing 108 rounds of the inner sanctum without studying was not going to work. Of course, some listened, some did not. But she tried.  I like to think some lives changed in the way they thought about things.


I don't know if she would have succeeded today. Everyone wants quick answers and solutions.  Some folks also think that money can be earned by dubious means, and then you can redeem yourself by worshipping the lord with some huge gift  and a special family puja session with all the trimmings. Elections fought with unaccounted money power, and wins celebrated by documenting your very public gifts to some temple.   What those at the top do, the folks at subordinate levels, emulate.  Gold passes, silver passes, special entries to visit the lord, and shower him with gifts. I doubt if any crooks ever come there to apologize for their crooked sins.

Somewhere in all these folks, are the old faithful. Who have immense faith, but whose resources are not so full.  Those who worry about savings being depleted, and how they are going to manage someone's school fees. Visiting temples , for them, is like having food, a simple meal. A daily affair.


But it gets more and more difficult. Some feel I shouldn't even be complaining.

A news item in today's Times of india, refers to  the fact that the waiting time to see the idol at the famous Hill Temple at Tirupati, is 21 hours. With close to 65,000 pilgrims on weekdays, a view of the deity for  0.80 to 1.5 seconds amidst a lot of shoving and pushing by temple guards and Srivari volunteers is defined as adequate.
   
    A time-motion study found that 2,000-2,200 pilgrims are able to ‘finish’ the darshan of the Moola Virat (main deity) in one hour when they are pushed around. If temple volunteers exercise restraint, the numbers come down to 1,400-1,600 and further down to 1,000-1,200 if they only say ‘move move’ inside the garbha griha.
    

With Arjitha sevas and other rituals taking up 8 hours and VIP pilgrims allowed darshan for 3-4 hours, common pilgrims are left with only 10-12 hours.
   

 In the Maha Laghu darshan (100 feet away from the Lord), the line moves at lightning pace as some 5,000-6,000 pilgrims are accommodated in 60 minutes. “Even a glimpse of the Lord is difficult as pilgrims are dragged away like players in a kabaddi match,” a temple insider said. .....

Just wondering. Why things have reached such a stage ?  Should money be the deciding factor in defining classes of worship ?  Is this like bringing in "reservations" ?

Are we as a people sinning more ?  Has it reached such proportions that a disgusted  God is feared  and placated  with limitless resources ?  Does anyone think an entity like a God  can be bought, like some folks in the corridors of power ?  

 What happened to thinking of God as a kind of benevolent monitor in our daily life, where we put in a lot of thought before responding  to some underhand, illegal or plain cheating stuff ?


Is God now an industry ?

      

Rs 585,000,00,000 ? ONLY ?

Money has always been money, with the same magnitude of importance. Whether you talk about it now, or say, 30 years ago.  The concern was the same.  All this holds true, if you belong to the unfortunate tribe classified as "general tax paying public".


When I started working,  particularly  in a government organization, 35 years ago, I was at one point introduced to the concept of "someone in audit, raising an objection ".

It's not as if millions in funds were being squandered here and there.  I was simply directed to go attend an  IT workshop at a place  about 25 kilometres away for 4 days. This was not a residential program, and would involve daily commuting.  While I was well versed in the science and art of creative bus and train travel thanks to my previous job in the city,  I was advised by "experienced folks" to check out what my transport "entitlement" was .   I was told that I was entitled to taxi fare.  Wow !

I duly attended the aforementioned workshop, kept track of  number plates of taxis , and jotted down the details, of those, the time, and the fare paid , faithfully.   On return,  in addition to doing a report for those who had recommended me for the workshop,  I had to fill up some forms for conveyance expenses.   And send them to what was referred to  by everyone I know, as "admin".

I was duly called one day, and informed, that taxi fare was simply not for me, and I was being granted rickshaw fare .  Granting  me a closed vehicle with 4 wheels, for transport, would be objected under audit rules . And I was being given the expenses for an open three wheeler .  Not that this made a dent in my meagre nonexistent  fortune, but this was my introduction to a bunch of people called "Audit".  The conscience keepers for expenses incurred and submitted for justification.  

Towards the end of my career in the aforementioned job, I once noticed a discrepancy in salary, and checked up the rules in the  book of service rules.  My doubt was confirmed, and I approached the admin types with my doubts.  The whole thing was pooh-poohed in the manner a brilliant scientist would pooh-pooh, say, me writing about  subtraction-with-carry.   I was told the various steps, that were followed ,before a decision was taken. How things went through "audit",  before implementation.   And how they couldn't be wrong.

That same evening I ran into a friend from Audit in a wedding reception we attended ,  and  between jeera rice  and  hare-bhare kababs, we chatted about this . Corporate types do the same stuff and call it networking.  Just saying.  

Something must have a rung a bell and my friend said she would check and get back to me.  The next day, I heard from her. I was right, and admin was wrong. They owed me. Some. And when I asked her if I should write out an application with n copies for redressal , she told me, that things were in process, a note had been put up by audit, and I would be getting my dues, without raising my finger, pen or voice. 

And so  I ended up having immense respect for "audit", as someone who ensures money is being spent as per rules, points out anomalies and discrepancies, and defines how to right them.


Turns out, in some cases it is never so.

The Unique Identification Authority of India, initiated its UID card project under the experienced stewardship of Nandan Nilekani, who ventured into government after a very successful lifetime innings at Infosys.   We even ended up going for our biometric  cards  thing a few months ago, and I even blogged about that !


Today, I read in the papers, that after spending Rs 585,000,00,000 (give and take a couple of zeros here and there, I am sure),  the Parliamentary Committee on something or the other has moved that this project  be abandoned/stopped.  The Home Ministry has problems with it, the Finance Ministry has problems with it.  And so,  because Parliament decrees so,  the project will be stopped.   Just like that.  And no one ever bothered about how much has already been spent on the project.

There have been loud whispers in the press about certain sections of government being unhappy with it .  Simultaneously, there were also news items indicating how so many millions of people have now been covered under this, how anyone  could open a bank account  based on this single citizen identification,  how folks get buy their grains from the public distribution system, using this , and so on and so forth.

Did someone, doing and auditing job for the government take cognisance of this ?  No.  Did so many auditing agencies of the government that operate at state and even lower levels  think of looking into this? No. Did anyone ever get National audit types like Comptroller and Auditor General  (CAG) into the picture as all this money was being spent ? No. Must we wait while all the money is completely wasted before  some watchdog wakes up and demands a report on the costs and benefits? 

Are wishes of Parliament subject to audit ?  When doubts are being expressed , occasionally in the press and elsewhere about the veracity of information , and biometric security aspects  of the UID, do we have a national auditing entity that says, "Wait. Lets look into this before we spend any more money"....?

They say the Rupee is losing its value.

Maybe in the eyes of the Reserve Bank, Ministries, and those who are , as I call them, zero-enabled (ie every additional zero enhances them). Maybe in the eyes of those to whom it is just a statistic.  Maybe in the eyes of those , for whom everything in life is paid for.

To me , the rupee still has value.

It doesn't depend on the dollar.  I keep track about what it buys for me.  How much or how how little. I am careful about how I spend it.  I  pay my taxes, like so many others of my ilk. And I agonize when I get cheated.  Because one has worked honestly and for long to earn it. 

What is really sad, is when  folks think of the magnitude of scams currently being investigated,  and say, that this quantity Rs, 585,000,00,000 "isn't that much" !

   Even half that would have built some bridges across rivers, where children have to wade through water to reach school, or built a hospital in an area where normal medical help is 24 hours and a mountain away.

What has really lost value,  is not the currency, but those folks that purport to rule us, and represent us , and  decide  how to spend the money earned from the taxes that I pay. 

I guess we stay tuned for the next. Scam, that is. 

Another Laxmi Pujan.....

We are well into the various celebrations that are done during the four days of Diwali in Maharashtra, and the second celebration is that of Laxmi Pujan , or the worship and celebration of the Godess of Wealth, Laxmi.

This is called Lakshmi Pujan,  and in many families,  there is an elaborate laying out of jewellery and valuables, in honor of the Goddess, and a worship ritual is followed, with everyone in the family dressed in their Diwali best.   Different days of Diwali are celebrated by different families in varying degrees of importance, depending on what you have traditionally followed all along.

And then I came upon, what I thought, was a very unusual Laxmi Pujan , which, my household help S., (hitherto greatly blogged about and known to readers of this blog), was checking with me about.

This morning, she suddenly took out the traditional Indian calendar where it was hung on the kitchen wall, and brought it to me .  I know she doesn't really do a religious celebration of Diwali, but it is more of a social and family holiday event for her.  

" Can you check and tell me what the actual timings for Laxmi Pujan are, today (26th) ?"  she asked me .  The Indian calendar is moon based, and the moon calendar days can change during any time of our normal sun-calendar day. I checked and confirmed for her that the timings recommended for Laxmi Pujan were between roughly 6 pm to 8:30 pm.

And I was completely intrigued because S has never followed all these rituals in all the years that I have known her.

 
S had recently become a grandma for the 4th time, with the arrival of a grandson. The new mother and the baby were, as per tradition, at her maternal home, and would  return to S.'s  abode some time later after the naming ceremony and so on, most likely after a month or two.

" Today completes 12 days after the baby's birth.  It is Laxmi Pujan , a good auspicious day. I thought I would have a small celebration for the new mother(her daughter-in-law) and baby, invite 5 ladies, honor them, place the little fellow in their lap for blessings. She has enriched us with the new grandchild, and I thought this was a nice thing to do for the new mother during Laxmi Pujan".

And she went on to tell me about some new saree she had bought to present to the new mother, her youngest daughter-in-law, as well as a fancy bonnet for the baby boy. She discussed the refreshments she was planning to serve, and how her own daughter, who was a trained mehndi artist was planning to do a wonderful design for her youngest sister-in-law, on her hand, in honor of the occasion.

All this on the day of Laxmi Pujan, when you celebrated and worshipped the Goddess of Wealth.  

And i thought what a lovely thought this was about wealth and riches in a life.   Which did not necessarily mean money. And jewellery. And the like.

In a state where girls were being named "Nakoshi" (unwanted), because they happened instead of a son,  and where, having discovered several such instances, the government was  having a huge public renaming of these girls, here was "S.",  living in these amazing unimaginable conditions , secretly hankering after a granddaughter, but immensely pleased yet with the birth of the youngest grandchild, a male,   and celebrating with the new young mother, because she has enriched the family !

And yet again, I marveled at S.'s  thought processes,  and her ability to figure out what Diwali, the bright lights, the Goddess Laxmi, and her worship, was all about......

And how lucky I was to know her .

A question of statues....पुतळेच पुतळे

"Every block of stone has a statue inside it and it is the task of the sculptor to discover it”

The great Michelangelo, probably said this between finely chiselling away at someone's nose or giving a great gradient to someone's waist, on his way to creating another masterpiece in Rome. Michelangelo Buonarroti was , to put it mildly, a very creative person. Very fond of sculpting, he also had some other things to say (as above) , which , it appears, are being avidly followed by the government of this state.

The trouble was, you needed to find free ,available, and unencumbered blocks of stone, possibly with a clear title, in this city of Mumbai. And that was the tough part. But, as someone said, where there is a will, and a possible early election, there is always a way .

And in Leonardo da Vinci,(1452-1519), Italian draftsman, Painter, Sculptor, Architect and Engineer whose genius epitomized the Renaissance humanist ideal, they found some great support when he said:

"I have been impressed with the urgency of doing. Knowing is not enough; we must apply. Being willing is not enough; we must do.” (Italics mine. Leonardo possible couldn't have known about the current intricacies of "applying" for stuff and "getting stuff done").

If you cannot find a block(s) of stone(s), not to worry. For a government which has managed to convert water into land at an amazing and profit making speed, why stop at blocks of stone?

Aim high . Create an island.

And so the powers that be got into a speedboat, skimmed through the crashing waves, life jackets and all, assisted by what may be called "affirmative" men and women , and did a recce of the wild waters of the Arabian Sea a mile into the sea. They came back, and decided that they would create an "island" .( Eat your heart out, Aristotle Onassis. Gifting your wife an existing island may be a laudable proposition, but I bet you never created one).

Why all this ?

The urgent need to create a Shri Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Island, as a grand home for a huge statue of Shri Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj, that will look down victoriously in international globalized splendour at the Statue of Liberty, which will now be 4 feet shorter. This feat , that is, the "gazing down" at Old Liberty, appears to be a bit difficult due to various guys like Galileo declaring that the earth is round, despite modern Friedman types declaring flatly, that it is, what else, flat.

The Shri Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Island, will host a Shri Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Museum, the Shri Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj sound and light show, the Shri Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Gift shop and Food Court. Special buses will be run from The Shri Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Train Terminus(CST) and the Shri Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj International Airport. When visitors of ranks higher than you and me visit, there will be an n-star hotel on the premises, so they can have "Paav sur le Vada", "Misal a la Kolha" "Soul Kadhi Supreme, "Thal-i-Peeth au Konkan" and unnamed carnivorous items (unknown to shakahari me) , about which details will be known later. Various motorized water vehicles, will skim across the Arabian Sea (now to be shortly renamed as the Shri Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Samudra, as soon as the PM is free of the Nuclear stuff, for the inauguration), carrying passengers to the island.

Did someone ask about a freeway being earlier planned through the waters , to ease the traffic congestion in South Mumbai ? Simple. The Government is all set to drop nearly four kilometres of sealink between Malabar Hills and Nariman Point which is part of the ambitious Rs4,500-crore Western Freeway sealink project. The reason apparently is to give an unobstructed view of the Chhatrapati Shivaji statue which is to be installed in the sea, off Marine Drive.

The cost of all this ? A mere 25 million dollars. One billion rupees. The number of zeros is enough to send arithmetically-disabled-me into a dead faint.

And another cost too. A long term one. Without Zeros.

The Indian Express of 24th June 2008, on page 4, reports that a bunch of politicians have been visiting the chief minister, and asking that a statue of Dr B. R. Ambedkar be set up ,off the sea of the sea coast of Mumbai. What the Chief Ministers reply was , is not reported.

Why not also, a statue of the Rani of Jhansi, Laxmibai, who was a part of the original war for independence, thus also celebrating the outstanding contribution of women to the nation's independence, as well as giving it the honor it deserves, as a precursor, to a series of women in power in India over the years since 1947. (And we will just forget about those insecure types who keep opposing the 33% women's reservation bil in Parliament)

People in Kolkata will not rest unless the Marxists, currently reeling under Sangrur and Gorkhaland, agree to install a statue of Shri Subhash Chnadra Bose in the Bay of Bengal, and flights from Anadaman Islands to Chennai will fly low over the approach to Chennai to point out the huge statues of MGR, Annadurai, Jayalalitha, Karunanidhi and others , standing somewhere in the ocean, looking back at the land they called theirs. Of course Gujarat would not rest unless their Iron man , Vallabhaiji Patel was given his rightful place , looking benignly across his land of birth from his perch in the Arabian Sea, maybe just off Dwarka.

Helpless ignorance allows me to avoid mentioning who Kerala, Karnataka, Rajasthann, Haryana, Punjab UP, MP, and Bihar might nominate for an honorable place in the Sea. And lets not even think of states that would start clamouring for Statues in the mountains of the north.

The possibilities are endless. The consequences , frightening.

It is very clear, that someone needs to pay great attention to this new fashion of erecting statues, on what would essentially be, land stolen from the sea.

Cut to Mumbai monsoons in the year 2030. There will be no flooding in Juhu, simply because there will be no Juhu. The sea will have taken over. Folks will look back nostalgically at the walks they took on various promenades at Bandra, Worli, and Marine Drive, and mourn their loss, and look angrily in the direction of the statues on islands, then hidden by the south Mumbai smog, thanks to vehicle exhausts. The Thane Creek will suddenly look huge, what with most of its banks, minus the mangroves, flooded with sea water , consequent to an all round rise in sea levels. People will stand on the Pedder Road flyover, and look down into the water swirling below, and wonder about where Breach Candy used to be, and how they stood in line for their US visa 22 years ago. The US Consullate, having switched to the Bandra Kurla Complex, at a huge cost, will wonder why flooding is inexplicably linked to their location, now that BKC is also water engulfed. The Commissioner of the Municipal Corporation of Greater Mumbai will be relaxed at the sudden decrease in maintenance of manholes and storm drains, since everything is now officially , "the sea", and will hold a press conference on a ship to announce his success. The Taj will now be a 10-star floating hotel, and school children will wonder what the idea of the Gateway was, if King George had to wade in through deep water anyway, since the gateway was way out in the sea.


Maybe we need to create a single island for all statues. Mark out areas. The government will have its work cut out, trying to balance all the political demands. New statues will come up as new coalitions come into Power. Parliament will have an entire session to decide reservation issues in statues. All those great men and women immortalized in stone will look on aghast as the representatives of the people resort to fighting,sloganeering, and flinging of microphones and chairs. Regional infighting on the island consequent to political compulsions, will make people stay away. Mumbai Police, will come steaming in in their Maruti launches, IPC section 144 at the ready. It will be an island of statues, of people, who if they could, would simply shake their heads, as if to say "I told you so"......an island of figures, standing tall, looking out at their land, and wondering what it had come to..

And far away from Mumbai, in a load-shedded small town in Interior Maharashtra, thanks to all the power concentrated in Mumbai, electrical and otherwise, a child will be pouring over his homework, in the light of a lantern; something he needs to finish fast, since he needs to get up very early as his school requires that he walk there 8 kms each way, thanks to the school in his village that exists only on paper, and the broken bridge that no one wants to repair. And nobody really cares.



The homework assignment ? An essay on Maharashtra's greatest glory : The Neta Island - off Mumbai.

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Chronic Croritis****

Words fail. Mouth agape. ( In keeping with the shape of zero. The key to converting nothing to crores).

But the finger types on. We have become a nation of extremes.

Another nation twitches its eyebrow over one of our border states, and our PM puts off his trip there. The same nation goes into a frenzied tirade about a torch related to their forthcoming Olympics, and the Indian Ministry of External Affairs , sits back, eyebrows arched in importance , with eyes closed, as the Chinese Ambassador, in an unprecedented breach of protocol creates history , by being the first high level diplomat to tangle with a overly eager-to-please New Delhi Police.

The Indian Olympic Association, which specializes in sending more officials than athletes to the Games, year after year, decides to run a torch relay for itself, and the public be damned. Barricades, barbed wires, rod wielding, 18,000 police and 50 national security personnel (in a cordon around each runner) , guarding the route of 2.5 kilometres.

A chosen lot of 70 runners will do the torch relay, swearing eternal allegiance to Samsung, Lenovo, CocaCola, and maybe, just maybe, the Indian Olympic Association and Olympic Movement . From a torch relay run of 32 kilometers in 2004, watched and applauded by men, women and children, this will be like doing a sophisticated passing-the-parcel every 30-40 metres or so. With tens of thousands of securitymen dressed in track suits lining the path, applauding as ordered....(while another tens of thousands of securitymen, chase the Tibetan protesters, who are simply having a torch relay of their own, some distance away, in what I thought was a free and democratic country)

Who pays for this ? Well, don't ask. National Prestige is involved.

When the government has no funds to improve the abysmal living conditions for policemen, no funds to enhance the living conditions in our highest security overcrowded jails, no funds to buy ammunition for the Olympic shooters for practice, no funds for badminton shuttlecocks for the national team, and no funds to give airfare to a champion woman carom player representing the country abroad, we need to redefine National Prestige as National Shame.

Crores are allowed to flow through without any results or accountability. Meetings, flights, ostentatious displays, expenditures for individual offices , security for laughable relays. At one time, one hesitantly talked about lakhs. Today, everything is in crores; costs, rewards, people, fees, contracts..... Stupid me.

Is it a complete coincidence that the other travesty in Crores, IPL, otherwise called Itna Pakad Lo, is to begin the next day in Bangalore.

Every single cricketer "who counts" (as a player, not money), is injured or close to it, thanks to the factory type slogging playing schedule the BCCI sets up , in a cruel effort at shoring up the crores. Cricketers who made weedy comments, cricketers who spat into their hands and discussed their integrity, are now, thanks to the shining crores, talking about the sportsmen from various countries getting closer. Discussions of the Simian variety take a back seat, as the crores blind some.

While stock markets fall, inflation rises, industrial production falls, I wonder if this has to do with industrial houses dealing in cement,telecommunication, liquor, textile yarn, construction etc finding enough crores in their pockets, not only to pay crores to expert flingers and hitters of the red cherry, but also to import a bunch of dancers to teach us Indians how to enjoy a sport. (The BCCI filled its coffers till today, thanks to the Indian audience that braved badly designed , infrastructureless, unorthopaedically and unergonomically designed stadiums; as the just imported Washington Redskins cheerleaders would (never) say, "man, we don't need no dancers....").

As if this is not enough, everyone who acts in Hindi movies is now being paid, what else, crores, to depict improbable personalities in unreal situations, with dances in minimal clothes thrown in. In case you think that's a saving, the costumes actually cost a crore.

Do we have a lack of entertainment in this country ? We produce the largest number of movies, play cricket for maximum number of days a year resulting in the richest cricket association in the world, we have the largest number of impoverished sport associations in the country, we are probably the largest set of mobile phone users in the world. While we bask in the glory of 3 more IIT's and how it has become a brand across the world, we are probably the backbenchers, when childhood and women's literacy levels across the country are concerned.

What to do. There is a crunch.
Of money.
In some places.
We are like that only.

In other places, money is today being flung around in a frenzy, as if it is going out of fashion. What this will do, is affect the psyche of those who still , well entrenched in the middle class , correlate efforts with rewards, in daily life , that is.

Not under lights, not under police protection, not on television, not on any kind of show.

Maybe these folks know something Richard Armour once said

That money talks

I'll not deny,

I heard it once:

It said, "Goodbye."

****P.S. Apr 18, 2008. Read Mini T20 at North Pole to know how some people are still immune t0 the epidemic of croritis. Way to go, Indian Navy !

The value of so many zeros.....

Zeros.

India discovered zero.

Some ancestor of mine, n generations ago, where n is improbably huge, went ecstatic over it in a scholarly way.

Carved as they are into one corner of my DNA, too many of these zeros , generally cause a sense of unease and anxiety.

They still boggle the mind. Mine, that is.

I have always looked, mouth agape, at people who talk about crores and millions , with a level of familiarity that I have with , say, tomatoes and potatoes.

Inflationary life has brought me into a certain level of familiarity with up to 5 zeros, but anything beyond that tends to cloud my already operational macular degeneration as I trudge towards completing the sixth life decade.

So it is with a sense of some frustration as well as derisive wonder that I read all this news about various cricketers across the world being "bought' for millions and crores by the Indian Premier League, otherwise considered the moneybags of the BCCI.

What does a million dollars mean to someone as ordinary as me ?

Maybe its the funding from the worlds leading IT company for free computers for India's municipal schools; it could be a much awaited funding for creating much needed transport infrastructure for the disabled; or it could be a very sorely needed finance for running the Learning Disabilities Clinic in Mumbai's premier public hospital, which actually would have had to shut down, till an industrial house temporarily pumped in some green adrenaline.

But NO.

To some industrial moneybags, who crib continuously about corporate taxes, while placing orders for their 5th personal aeroplane, being able to say "Dhoni, bought for a million dollars" , is an avidly anticipated "high". Having cricketers of "iconic status" advising them, kind of makes it fine in the eyes of the potential game audience.

Buying and selling dedicated cricketers, between sips of celebratory champaign, in plush 5 start environs, has further increased the myopic ignorance of these people who never read newspapers that report on the unavailability of badminton shuttles aborting the Indian team practice, or a 25,000 Rs shortfall stopping a carom champion girl from attending an International meet.

And lets not talk about hockey teams having to bed down on airport floors, and runners running with thighs scalded by boiling tea that spilled when too many people were accomodated in a place meant for half as many. And what do you say about someone who spends millions of Rs and minutes organising a swimsuit calendar with folks emphasizing everything else but swimming, while swimmers' parents are asked to fork out airfare for meets outside India, with a vague promise of reimbursement , and never mind that they represent the country...

That cricketing sportsmen, who came up through small towns, (still valuing their ordinary coaches who had extraordinary dedication), will now shift and play in towns with completely arbitrary culture, as "products" with a sell-by condition, is probably a confirmation that globalization is alive, well, and raring to take over .

While a nation came to a cricketing standstill as a result of Australian cricketing types abusing and falsely implicating one of our own, the main Australian culprit today is probably having the last laugh after hearing that he is the second highest "priced" player, over whom our moneybags fought.

Abuse ? Turning the other cheek ?

India's richness is its diversity. It is what makes things interesting. This mixing of cricketers from various regions, like the the Agricultural Produce Market Committee bidding for tomatoes from 3 different places, , ultimately reduces the price of tomatoes, but takes the zing out of allowing the consumers to enjoy the different tastes.

It's all happening in the name of money and speed. These guys are not playing test matches. They play the T20. Fast games, quick results, quicker money. The players, hitherto having cribbed about a crowded playing schedule leading to inadequate rest and injuries, have even signed away their wellbeing in medical clauses as part of this league set up. Play for 44 days for us every year. If you don't perform we will trade you like Harshad Mehta stocks.

What was wrong with playing as a country team ? Why negate the sense of national unity the team had naturally developed ? There are reports of some parents of players even cautioning their children about keeping their mind on the game and not on the money.

But it's difficult to take a position in a society which supports doing everything bigger, faster, and applauds its heroes who are paid by oil companies for appearing in their commercials ,saying a single word, "speed" , and then revving up those cylinders to race across the country, and the overall costs be damned.

One of India's greatest sons, way back in 1940's led the populace innovatively towards independence; no dictators, no flinging around of money, it was more "we" than "me"; and fifty years down the line, we enjoy the fruits and preen ,as folks call us the world's most successful and biggest democracy, while our neighbors still struggle to spell it correctly.

The effects of our money centric attitudes will be clear 50 years from now, may be even sooner.

The Great Man said "There is more to life than increasing its speed..."

He also said something else . "Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever"......

In this great hurry to reach somewhere very fast, we, typically, are half learners.