I wish Rajiv Gandhi were alive today...

My lasting memory of one of India's most famous sons, Rajiv Gandhi, was the printed acknowledgement that I received via snail mail in the 1980s from the PMO's office in New Delhi. I had sent a greeting card to Rajiv Gandhi wishing him a very Happy Birthday. I was too young then to understand what it meant to receive a thank you & acknowledgement card from the office of the Prime Minister of India.

But, I realise the character of the man very well today, based on that one card I so treasure. It was not just any other card - but a carefully worded thank you note that was sent out to me to MY mailing address with HIS autograph (even if printed & not his actual signature). It showed that the Prime Minister of India then cared for his citizens.

I just wish Rajiv were alive today. He looked every bit like a Prime Minister, spoke such terrific English in international conferences, had the conduct and personality to handle international affairs and people in the global league. The charisma apart, the man, I believe, had the forward-looking vision for India, that the current crop so sadly doesn't have.

He was the first guy to get computers to India. He understood the value and importance of sports for India, and got so many things approved on the sports front. He represented India in so many international conferences and made commitments that were followed up with some action or the other. He was one of the earliest to understand the meaning of a multi-national, long before liberalization hit India in 1991.

I think he was assassinated because he was good. Too good, for the other politicians who are regressive and not at all forward-looking. He was young too, which meant, he could have served the country for a longer time and done justice to his talent and India's potential. He also appeared to be a person, though foreign educated & a pilot, in tune with the realities of the country. I always recall his famous speeches, where one sentence or the other started off with the words, "humein dekhna hai..." (we have to see...), rather than a staid, "hum dekhenge... " ( we will see..."), that today's politicians chant (with no accountability).

The man was ahead of his times for me. And that one act of sending a citizen an acknowledgement for a birthday greeting, was a sign of his individual connect with the citizens of the country.

I just wish he were alive today. I am quite confident that he would have had some measures to root out corrupt politicians from the system, gotten in infrastructure and accountability within the system, and also done something about the inefficacies of the Home Ministry. We can always get a P.hd from Harvard or Oxford to run the Finance Ministry and provide dream budgets; but, we need a far greater visionary to run the affairs of the country. Rajiv Gandhi might have been that person.

I wonder if this blog will go to Rahul or Priyanka Gandhi now...and if I will get another card!:)

Two days for the vacation to begin

It will be the second and third country outside India that I will see. Singapore and Kualalumpur. I have been in vacation mood for the last week or so. And given the lean season of work, the mood of not wanting to get up in the morning and going to office, just gets accentuated.

This is one of those goody-goody trips: free tickets, accommodation taken care of, friends to hang out with, places to see, X'mas and New Year season, shopping time, looking at the development in the neighbouring regions of India and checking out a completely new set of people - Chinkis and Malays!!:). From what I hear from my friends, all Chinki babes look alike, and one can never decipher how young or old they are: a 40 years old Chinki woman will look exactly like a 24 year old Chinki hottie!:).

Let's see what the trip has in store. Am looking forward to the cultural nuances of the trip as well - the similarity to Indian food, Tamil being a second language, tons of Indians in these 2 places, a cusp between the West and the East, shopping delights, concrete jungles and a way of life that is unique to these 2 cities.

More on this, once I get back from the trip.

Bumped into an old neighbour

It felt as if I was transported back in time - a good 15 years, at that. 1989-1993, to be precise, when I bumped into my old neighbour at Sankey Tank today. I was busy on my usual weekend jog and as I made the final lap, I saw this dashing chap with a kid in his hand. I was not sure if he was my neighbour, because the last time I saw him, he was busy with many girlfriends, and I could never have picturised him with a kid in hand! But, that was exactly the situation - the guy is married, runs a music school, and still lives in the same house that we were a part of. And to see him with a kid was a bit amusing and good!

The best part was when he said, "you look just the same; ever since you have grown up, you are still the same". For those of who are wondering or laughing at that statement, he was referring to my height!!:) And in subsequent conversations, I discovered, my frame of mind!:) Not the best thing to be hearing, but well, in the company of an old friend, these things are bound to happen.

Of course, he was not short of advice for me - what with recommendations on how to woo a woman, how never to give up in life and what is life without a girlfriend, et al. All in all, a nice evening with an old pal!:)

Fight for your rights, come what may

I have learnt in life to respect elders and people with vast experience with life in general. I have also been brought up to respect Indian traditions and values and am personally a big fan of those things, irrespective of how modern I may be. But, there are times in life, when old people need to be told not to mess with the younger generation.

What would one do when a person who is 2.5 times your age accuses you of things that have no basis? Especially when you have extraordinary counter proof to tell them, that they are wrong. The matter gets accentuated when people such as these are arrogant, have a temper of a lion and an attitude of "only I am right; rest of the world is a bunch of fools". In such a scenario, I firmly believe that such people need to be dealt with head on. They need to be told that they are not as perfect as they consider themselves to be. They need to firmly told that others can also be right. More than anything else, such people need to be firmly dealt with.

In fact, the way to handle these types of people who never value other human beings, is to present hard-hitting, indisputable facts that will make all their allegations against the "so-called, weaker folks", fall flat on its face. That is the only language they understand and will understand.

The chances are that such people will still not buckle down and take the stand, "how dare he talk to me like that? You are half my age?", etc. But, one needs to be extremely strong mentally to take on such people. To fight till the finish; especially when one's very existence is challenged, questioned, insulted and rebuked, with absolutely no basis whatsoever.

Nobody has any business to be accusing anyone else personally; that too, without a single fact in hand. And more so, when the person being accused has enough ammunition in the form of facts, to throw at the accuser, that make all such allegations fall flat on their face.

The matter gets gravitated when one's very own tends to leash out at you, for no fault of yours. That's when, I believe, that content, structure and facts need to be used very carefully, to let the person know not to mess around with you. This is because, emotions have no play when one is dealing with a situation of being accused of flawed personality or character.

Fighting for one’s rights is an extremely big test of a person’s temperament, character, will power and ability to prove to “interested” parties, not to mess with them. It becomes even more critical, when the battle is one-on-one i.e. the person hates YOU the most, and gets along famously with most other human beings (for NO fault of yours).

Its better to live a life of dignity and character fighting for your rights, rather than buckling down under the pressure of elements that are out to question your integrity. At the end of the day, one's name and credibility are far more important and lasting than any designation or money power. Fight, especially when you are 500% right, and can prove it to elements that think otherwise.

The 2 sides of Pakistan that I know...

I have no words to say this. But that feeling of immense sub-continental belonging was at its highest when I went to the Wagah border earlier this year. To see folks from across the border, divided by just a massive gate at the Indian border, was an exhilirating experience.

I will never forget that moment when the gates opened, and soldiers from either country had that regal guard of honour, hoisting flags, singing their respective national anthems, and so on. Most of all, people from either side of the border rose in unision when some famous Bollywood songs were played. There was thus, a classical people-to-people contact that I had only heard about on national television. I will never forget that moment when I saw tall Pakistani pathans, dressed in authentic 'sherwani-types' of attires, with long beards and a smile that was worthy of a model for a toothpaste advertisement!

There is another part of Pakistan I love and admire. That is the set of sporting and political icons that this politically damaged country has churned out over the years. Imran Khan, Javed Miandad, that all-conquering left-handed genius, Wasim Akram who I had the great fortune of seeing up, close & personal in a sports competition in Bangalore. How can I forget the elegant Benazir Bhutto. Hell, she went to Harvard! And had so much grace! And the Pakistan that loves a Shahrukh Khan or produces a Nusraft Fateh Ali that delights and unifies people from both sides of the border. Cultural unification, I guess. Sheer appreciation of art and talent on display. No artificial bifurcations.

But, there is the other side of Pakistan. The Pakistan, that bombs innocent parts of the world. The Pakistan that has no democracy. The Pakistan that has such severe military interference that the average citizen possibly does not know who real Government is - the civilian, 'elected' folks or the men with the guns and uniforms in the military. Not to mention, the famous terrorist training camps that the world keep reiterating as being housed in Pakistan. Of the immense access to underworld dons that these terror outfits enjoy. Or, the unforgettable and sadly, indefatiguable connections with (though unproven, I guess) Al-Qaeda and the likes. Or the Taliban. And so on...

These are the two sides of Pakistan that I know. And given a choice, I would clearly opt for the first one that I have described here. Its a far greater option in this generation of terrorism.

I just hope that we are able to unite in this grief (Mumbai), such that we are able to root out the part of Pakistan that nobody likes (or wants).

Time for introspection, for both countries, as to what future do we want to leave the sub-continent to contend with.

Why India is angry today?

Most corridor-conversations in recent weeks revolve around the recent Bombay terror attacks. Old-timers talk about the lack of resolve in the political world. The US is putting pressure on Pakistan. World opinion stacks up against the terrorists who arbitrated this henious crime. The whole country is furious. And about time too.

Never before in the history of the country has there been such public outcry against the politicians. These people in positions of power, running policy matters and saving their own fiefdom have never been bombarded by the wrath of public opinion. People hate politicians. People are asking answers from the powers-that-be. People in India are demanding accountability. There are public marches being staged in the heart of Mumbai city with people telling politicians never to come to Bombay city ever again. Indians are questioning politicians about where the tax money eventually goes? People are asking politicians about the merit of their z-security.

Adding fuel to fire, is the ridiculous and insensitive remarks made by the politicians. Some nerds had the nerve to say, "these sorts of bomb attacks happen in big cities". Good thing is, he was fired from his exalted position of Deputy Chief Minister & State Home Minister of Maharashtra, the next day. Another politician, a Chief Minister of a state at that, had the gall to tell the father of a martyr, who laid down his life in the fight against terror, that "even a dog would not come to your house". Good thing is, this Chief Minister faced public wrath and was summarily dismissed from the residence of the martyr's residence; hope he is fired soon, as well.

In all this, people are asking questions and taking things into their own hands. The phenomenal success of www.jaagore.com makes a lot more sense in the current times of terror. There are scores of people-driven initiatives happening in the country, such as assembling people in different localities together, getting things such as car pooling to beat traffic congestion and so on. Things which the politicians are supposed to provide the average citizen of India, is now slowly getting away from them, as poeple are taking things into their own hands.

Jaago India, jaago, indeed. To hell with politicians. I am more than confident that the Indian public is going to summarily screw political careers built over many decades, in the democratic elections in March 2009. What is refreshing in these times is that the new crop of politicians - the educated, well-travelled, forward-looking and extremely global set of intellectuals - are talking about a revolt against their seniors. Maybe, just maybe, these are the kinds of politicians that the youth of India will work for. And throw away the forts built by the 70 and 80 year olds, who can barely make a contribution anymore to the country.

There is hope, in this crisis too.

Oh, Calcutta - day 2

Day 2 was not so eventful. But, it showed me that part of Calcutta that is cut off from reality. I went to the Ramakrishna Mission (Belur Math), Howrah, Hooghly, and most other parts of the old city.

What struck me the most was the abject poverty there. The utter disconnect that people in this half of the city had with the rest of the world. Old, old, old buildings, that nearly looked like they would fall off any minute. Clothes hanging from balconies. I saw potters, barbers, carpenters, cobblers, and the like. I even saw masons yelling at their workers who were lifting cement bags and other commodities onto carts.

There was a certain silence in these parts. As if, they were asking, "what wrong have we done, to be summarily dismissed and not included in India?" Some of the buildings I saw really scared me - they had flags of a few political parties hanging out of the windows. I was left wondering whether these politicians knew about these citizens and were doing nothing about their upliftment, or had people just given up and had no chance of revolting against these politicians. Sad, sad, sad.

I so desperately wanted to go on a boat ride on the Hooghly river, but lack of time did not allow me to do that. There is a certain melancholy about the Howrah and surrounds that is hard to capture in words. There is dirt on the roads, there is pollution in the locality, there is acute poverty around, there are dilapidated buildings that look close to run-down, people seem to get on with their lives with no great ambition but to ensure that they make their two ends meet. Two square meals a day seemed to be a luxury in this locality. I suffocated in the 2-3 hours that I was there and I can only imagine the health of these citizens in this sort of a very, very unhealthy locality -sure place for an epidemic to break out.

The irony is that, as soon as I came out of the Howrah bridge, I noticed that the main road leads into the Chief Minister's office - the Writer's Buildings, as they are famously called. I was left wondering whether these power centres were even bothered about doing something to provide a basic livelihood for these parts of neglected Calcutta.

I had rented a cab for day 2 of my trip in Calcutta. And I had a Bihari driver for company. His Hindi was so classical and different from the Hindi that the average Bengali spoke. He gathered pretty quickly that I was not from these parts and took me right around the city, showing me famous buildings and other locations of import. Very helpful chap, who validated a lot of the stuff that I had read up on the internet. And it also added to my knowledge of the city.

I spent the afternoon of my second day in Calcutta at the Science Museum. Fantastic place and a must-see for everyone who visits this metropolitan city. It has 3-D shows, a space show that talks about the solar system and how the sun impacts things in life, rockets, information about all the planets in the universe, GSLV, PSLV etc. Big domes that have graphics of science and definitions of scientific terms. Good place for kids too and to expose them to the world of science.

Now to the last bit. The Calcutta cops. These guys essentially adorn a white uniform and a white helmet. What stood out for me was that this uniform and helmet stays white, despite the heat and dust that the city throws up. I could sight cops from a distance, merely because of their attires. Phenomenally maintained! Or, for lack of better explanation, they use detergents well in the Calcutta police force!

The trip was also my first glimpse of a yellow cab in Indian roads. The only other place that I had seen them was in New York city. However, I felt these Calcutta cabs were far more reasonable than their Big Apple counterparts! I remember, that cabbie who asked me for an extra ten rupees, just because it was late at night and he had to drop me to the other end of the city. Forget, New York, any other Indian city would have fleeced me at that time of the night. That, in itself is a measure of the city - simple, uncomplicated, and living life on their own terms to a degree. What with extensive opinion on everything that happens in this country and the interest that people have for art, science, law and other finer nuances of life.

Oh, Calcutta - Day 1!

I had heard a lot about this city. About how laidback it was. About, how it almost lived in another era, while the rest of the country raced ahead. About the famous sweets and the chaats that the city offered. And how fish is vegetarian in Calcutta!

Well, my recent trip to Calcutta, rounded off the only metropolitan city that I had not been to, in India. And it lived up to its reputation. Staying at Salt Lake City, going in the famous yellow taxis and the underground metro train and into the new and old city, was an experience in itself.

The city is very crowded though. But the difference between the rush in Calcutta and the rush I find in other Indian cities lies in the pressure that people place on themselves to have a life outside of office. People have time here, or, ensure that they create time for themselves and their loved ones. Of course, during winter the sun sets at 5 p.m., so that helps matters, as people get home really early. There did not seem to be a concept of long hours here and extensive high-pressure life. During the day, I found many people sitting along the maidan area and watching club cricket. This form and league of cricket is taken very seriously here, and many a punter is debated, discussed and disputed at these clubs. The grounds are massive too, much bigger than I am accustomed to seeing back home in Bangalore.

Perhaps the star attraction of the city is the Victoria Memorial (VM). A phenomenal architectural wonder that has a museum with flavours of sculpture, paintings, photographs, Indian freedom fighters, evolution of Calcutta. There is a tremendous amount of history in this building too - frames and sculptures of British rulers, kings, viceroys, etc don the ramparts of this museum at different spots. Some names I remember are Lord Curzon, Lord Dalhousie. The highlight of them all, is the fantastic sculpture of Queen Victoria - standing tall, with a bright smile and overlooking the entire museum, right from the centre of the main hall. Great sight. It almost made me wonder, how could such a good-looking woman, be part of such a brutal agenda to rule us for 180 years!

The VM is quite spectacular at dusk, and even better at night. It overlooks the horizon of downtown Calcutta in a manner of royalty, that I have possibly only seen in New Delhi at the Rashtrapati Bhavan. Fantastic! And white marble, well-lit, in the evening, is a great sight!

Of course, my trip had its fair share of drama. I lost my cellphone! As I stood at the main gate of the VM and was busy clicking photographs, I guess my phone fell somewhere. Only after I got to the nearest railway station to get back to my guest house, did I realise that I had lost my 15 day old phone! So much for loving something so dearly in life - more often than not, it goes away from me. Sigh!

The drama didn't end with the lost phone. Given the recent coverage on the Bombay terror attacks, the last thing I ever wanted was my phone getting into the hands of some untoward elements in an alien city. So, I went up to the cops and reported the loss of my phone. They hardly spoke Hindi, and I didn't know a word of Bengali! It was quite amusing for me to speak Hindi slowly and try to get my point across to the cops. I have an observation about the cops, which I will write about later. Finally, I hopped onto the police van and went to the nearest police station and lodged an FIR, about the loss of my phone. It was such an old building, with even older furniture and files. No information technology in the Calcutta police forces, for sure!

In between all this, I must say that I had a good glimpse of modern Calcutta. I went around the maidan region, saw the famous Eden Gardens from the outside, the B.C.Roy Club House, and the Cricket Association of Bengal. Names that I had seen on television for years and which I had associated with the likes of Jagmohan Dalmiya and Saurav Ganguly. It was refreshing to see so many upcoming cricketers playing in the vicinity in the massive maidan region, trying to follow their heroes and make it to the top. I got the sincere feeling that this modern part of Calcutta strongly encouraged sports and had so many facilities for the club cricketers to display their wares, right outside the Eden Gardens. What was disappointing for me was the fact that I was not permitted into the Eden Gardens for the tourist visit. Of course, courtesy, the recent Bombay terror attacks. Anyway, just another one of those long-cherished things in my life, that didn't happen.

This part of Calcutta had corporate offices, five star hotels, small malls, restaurants, lounge bars, and a number of foreigners. My next stop was Park Street, which I felt was a striking replica of some of the main downtown areas in Bombay, like the Fort area. Old historical British buildings, head offices of famous companies, host of people running from pillar to post in the regular rush of their lives, roadside juice bars, famous landmarks such as St. Xaviers' College, Archbishop's Residence and so on. A mix of the old British life and the modern Calcutta, trying to put its best foot forward in a competitive world. I also felt that this was the only part of Calcutta that was possibly not affected so much by the crony socialism that the entire state of West Bengal is famous for. Maybe, I had the forward-looking eyes of the Indian youth, that this struck me. But, I am pretty sure that, this would be the observation that anyone makes about Park Street.

As I finally got back to Salt Lake City, trying to balance the rush on the metro and my need to be on time for a wedding reception at the Lake Club, I was greeted by the Calcutta traffic. Scores and scores of vehicles going from the expensive part of the city (Park Street & the like), to their respective homes. What was good about this traffic though was that it was free-flowing. The roads are quite wide in the main streets of Calcutta. Any average main road could accommodate 3-4 lanes at least.

On my return to the guest house, I quickly changed into my new red kurta and headed out to the Rowing Club, apparently, a famous landmark in the city. Took some time to get there, but, eventually did. Sprawling lake, and a fantastic setting to host a wedding reception. Thankfully, my friend had invited very few people, so it was not very crowded. I ended up being a topic of conversation, as nobody around had come in all the way from Bangalore! That made a few heads (read, Bengali girls!) bob towards me. I wasn't complaining, given that they were all looking so good! Enough number of them came over to me and mentioned that they were particularly appreciative of my trip all the way from Bangalore to Calcutta. I should thank my close friend for inviting me over, I guess!!:)

One thing I must say is that Bengalis are very proud people and their women take pains to look beautiful. The difference between the Calcutta version of beauty and the Delhi type of beauty is the natural flavour of these Bengalis. I never found even a single Bengali girl over-dressed, or smacked with a few litres of lipstick. They just seemed to be adept at carrying themselves very well, and their grace just added to the beauty. Maybe, just maybe, the fact that I found Bengali women more intellectual and possessing a good ability to carry on a conversation well, made them appeal to me a lot more!

Anyway, coming back to the reception, I made a couple of new friends there and we were talking about the recession and the politicians and the Bombay terror attacks. A couple of them were busy marketing the modernity of Calcutta in the form of a few interesting malls in the city, as a close competitor to Bangalore's growth story! Made for interesting conversation though.

I did not forget to have the famous rosagollas and sandesh sweets at the reception. Slurp! Simply terrific!

Move on to day 2 of my trip, in my next piece!

Good suggestion - get some youngsters into the Indian Parliament

It was refreshing to hear 2 young Bombay politicians admit that the political class in this country is nothing more than a shame. One of them even stuck his neck out and told politicians to "shut up", if they do not have anything constructive to state or do. Perhaps the defining line in this interview with these 2 young Bombay politicians was, "I find it better to be a Mumbaikar, rather than the BJP spokesperson for Maharashtra".

Fantastic words. Refreshing words. And words that echo the thoughts of teeming millions in the country. There has been incredible angst and curses hurled at the senior parliamentarians in New Delhi. The average citizen has become tired of the same old names doing the rounds in the Indian political system for so many years. The worst situation is that these politicians are on the other sie of 60 or 70, and are still power-hungry. They will do anything to get their votes, hold on to their seat and boss around, with nil accountability.

To see these 2 young, vibrant, ambitious, pragmatic and well-educated Bombay politicians this evening prompted a thought on national television. A thought, that perhaps, it would do the country a world of good, if we manage to elect these sorts of forward-looking and constructive youngsters, who are not thawed by the experience of dirty politics, and may yet be our best hope of reconstructing India, from the debris that it finds itself in.

Enough, again, is enough.

Government of India - you don't deserve my taxes

In all the time that television channels covered the recent Mumbai terror attacks non-stop over the last week, there was one particular opinion by an expert that stuck in my mind. This was by a famous chartered accountant who said in a very matter-of-fact way, "what if we stop paying our advance taxes that are due on Dec 15 of every year?". That statement, which may have been in rhetoric and anger, summarised the sentiment of the people.

There was one more comment - by a veteran Mumbaikar, who frequents the Taj hotel often. She asked all politicians to stay away from Mumbai and went on to add that they should be stripped of their security and that the Government does not deserve the taxes that she pays(and so do millions of others in India).

I couldn't agree more with these extreme suggestions made in the unprecedented times that we find ourselves in. If the politician is stripped of his own security for some time and is exposed to the "normal"situation that all of us face every day, there MIGHT be some hope of the realisation dawning on them. Moreover, if these politicians do not get their money from the public in the form of taxes for a short-term, say, a quarter, it will choke the government machinery. Sure ways of letting these ridiculous powers-that-be are elected by us to know that they are accountable and answerable to the public. If not, like in the private sector, if you don't perform, go home.

The worst of them all was the Deputy Chief Minister of Maharashtra, R.R. Patil. The man had the insensitive nerve to state that "these sorts of attacks happen in big cities". I silently thought to myself, "how I wish he had lost someone near and dear to him, had his house burgled, not to mention, been denied his security cover". Moron! Thank God, he was asked to leave by his bosses. About time too!

In all this, I am convinced that the Government does not deserve my taxes. I mean, here I am slogging 15-18 hours a day for super demanding clients and then paying taxes every month when my salary comes. So do many companies that produce goods; so do millions of other people like me. And I am sure, that almost all of us in India, expect some basics - roads, lesser traffic jams, a police force that works, security and so on. Just the basics.

Forget about GDP growth of 8% - we as individuals are smart enough to work hard and make our country grow. But, if my taxes do not even give me the basic things in my life, this sort of a government does not deserve my taxes.

Enough is indeed, enough.

Mumbai...I will see the Taj Hotel again.

Like every other Indian national who is proud to be a citizen of this country, I am also extremely grieved at the recent terror attacks in Mumbai. The last time that I didn't sleep much at night, or did not get sleep, was in 1992, during the World Cup in Australia - had to balance the time zone. But, this time was different; I was unable to sleep; I could not digest what was happening to that magnificent heritage monument, the Taj. No less credit to the towering Oberoi and the residential complex of Nariman House.

Let me put this in perspective, as to why I think the choice of these locations for terror mean so much to me. These are parts of Mumbai that the world sees, when foreigners enter India. The minute someone enters Mumbai through the Gateway of India, one sees the towering structure of this 106 year old building. Like every television journalist has been screaming, this building is not just another building in Bombay. Its a building that makes a difference. Its the sign of how India has transformed itself over the last 100 years. Yes, its an old building, but its majestic, stylish, classy, and immensely loved by every discerning Indian. It attracts the who's who of India and the world - politicians, prices, emperors, heads of state, CEOs, senior managers, investors, journalists and so on. The Taj also accommodates every fabric of Indian society - workers from every class of the society work in this grand monument. It hosts shows that impact decisions on future investments and growth in our nation. There are 5 major financial institutions near the Taj, and many other corporates whose executives spend much of their productive time in this magnificent building, nay, monument. The Taj is not just another five star hotel - it has so much history and is a symbol of national pride.

I had more than just a lump in my throat when I saw the different parts of the Taj going up in blames. I had immense sorrow and grief to see the Oberoi hotel being held to ransom. What's more, I remember going on a long walk behind the Taj and into Colaba; while I am not sure if I crossed the Nariman House, I am pretty sure I would have seen it during my trips to Mumbai. Those long evenings that I used to sit opposite the Gateway of India, digesting the breeze and fresh air from the ocean behind me and looking at the magnificent Taj in front of me, is my lasting memory of this great monument.

But, the good thing is, this great structure is still there. And make no mistake about it, the next time I make a visit to Bombay, I will make my customary visit to the Gateway, and do the same thing that I did last time & every other time in Bombay i.e. eat bhelpuri or grab some groundnuts, and sit on that same stone and look at this great monument, with greater pride. You terrorist, you ain't killing any Indian's passion for a new India (be it a Mumbai-ite or anyone from outside Mumbai like me).

I will be back at the Taj and go on my walk across the Oberoi, next time I get to Bombay. Make no mistake about it!

Before I sign off, hats off to the NSG and all the other security forces who nailed those militants. It may have taken time, but hats off to them. And yes, a vast majority of them were north Indians, Mr. Raj Thackeray!

Should we fly to office?

How do we beat this traffic nightmare in Bangalore? How does one go about beating a good 4 hours per day, spent in transit? Isn't there a more efficient way to spend time? Just add up 4 hours a day, and on an annualised basis, it translates to almost 960 hours of transit time per annum (assuming a 5-day week). That's obscene!

I have been thinking about how to circumvent this madness and am convinced that we need to find a way to use the Indian skies more efficiently. Why can't we fly to office? Ban all the buses, shuttles, rickshaws and other forms of public transport on the road. Instead, get the government to invest in chopper services that have a point-to-point operation i.e. home to office and back. Need not fly from your doorstep, but a group of surrounding neighbourhoods deciding a central spot from where they could take a flight to office. Make the public pay for this service - try to make it a volume game and keep the pricing affordable.

This might work exceptionally well for folks in our IT industry, who are either concentrated in Whitefield or in ITPL. Or, increasingly concentrated in Hebbal. Three major blocks in Bangalore city. Which means, we can have fixed take-off timings in the morning to these 3 blocks in say 250 seaters, from different parts of the city. Ok, in order to accommodate flexi-timings of various companies and their work timings, try and plan 3 take-off times the morning to these 3 blocks - say, one at 7 a.m, one at 8 a.m and one at 10 a.m. Similarly, for the return journey, 5 p.m., 7 p.m and 9 p.m.

Such a system will eradicate pollution, transit time and also act as an immensely productive and faster mechanism of commute within the city. Not to mention, save the public the ignominy of suffering a Deve Gowda and his public excesses, time and again!

When Deve Gowda said "Sorry"

It is not very often that one hears Deve Gowda say sorry. That too, in public.In the firing line for the fiasco that his party caused to Bangalore's traffic earlier this week, the "son of the soil" and "farmer's man" (with a few millions in his kitty!), said a polite(read, meek) sorry on national television.

I will never forgive this man. He made me sit in my shuttle for 3.5 hours & made me miss my client calls. Forget me - thanks to the excesses of this man's celebration of his party's program in downtown Bangalore, little kids were left starving in the middle of nowhere for hours on length. I mean, imagine a school kid who would have left his/her school premises at the regular time of 4.30 p.m, still struggling to reach home at 10 p.m. - hungry, crying, tired, and super worried to see his/her parents. Not to mention, the paranoid parents across the city.

I just wish that there is way to curb the excesses of this man. I firmly believe that he has gotten away with his clout around the state and national politics for far too long, without an iota of accountability for his actions. Worse still - he has been booted out of state politics in the last Assembly election, when every discernible Bangalorean that I know of vowed to show him the door. Yet, the man has not learnt his lesson and is far from humble.

Sun TV only adds to depression

We are Tamilians, and it is but natural for folks at home to watch the action on Sun TV and other regional Tamil channels. We have obviously lived in Bangalore all our lives, and I can therefore understand my parents' need to stay connected with the state where they migrated from all those decades back - Tamil Nadu.

But, I personally hate that channel called Sun TV - thankfully, I never have the time to watch TV, but the audio reaching your ear is not something you can avoid, even if I manage to avoid viewing the visuals on these channels. Sun TV in particular is a disaster -I have never heard anything positive in that channel. It has a perennial cry-baby tone, depressing musical tones, movies that harp on the super emotional high drama (read tears), overdressed anchors, etc. The channel also makes a farce when it tries to be super modern whilst being ultra-traditional - pretty sad, at doing that balancing act.

What I hate the MOST about this channel is its ability to pervade depression - due to the types of things I have mentioned above. Never have I heard anything positive in that channel, and I find that the more the folks on this channel cry, the greater is its "attempt" to entertain. 

High time these guys in-charge of programming schedule and choice of programmes, does something to show something more positive. I just hate to hear (am gonna get earplugs, to avoid the audio as well!) such depressing music at such loud decibels that just adds to the "depression" around. As it is we have enough going on in the world, with falling stock markets, eroding networths, recession, depression, Somalia, hunger, poverty, and what have you. I don't think we need this channel that plays on sheer melodrama, and passes it off as entertainment. It is purely depressing. I seriously think that people over the age of 60 need not be dished out this sort of entertainment, that just brings down tears in their eyes and plays on melodrama again and again. 

Ok,I am young and will not understand or appreciate that sort of melodrama, because I fundamentally dislike it and disapprove of it. At the same time, I firmly believe that melodrama(replete with sad music and endless tears on TV), is not good for a retired person's frame of mind. Such people have had a long, hard life and the last thing they need is melodrama to reinforce the types of struggles they had in their lives. It kills the psyche at that age, I am sure. What people at that age need light-hearted entertainment. Not an overkill of melodrama, that too with such high decibels of depressing music.

This blog piece may not go down too well with folks who like Sun TV or like that melodrama. But, its just my point of view and I don't think its wrong to look for better avenues for entertainment, than the type that just has so much of depression steeped in it.

A fantastic quote by Abraham Lincoln

We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave, to every living heart and hearth-stone, all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature."

I can relate this quote to many other realms of life, not just restrict it to the battlefield....

The fine line between a relationship and friendship

This might be as good as a Catch-22 situation, which I think many people in our current generation would have been exposed to. Of course, at varying degrees, if I may add i.e what is the line that one draws when one gets along so famously with a member of the opposite gender, and is one who is your greatest ever friend? What sort of a line does one draw in defining the space for oneself, and the space for the sublime friendship? And most importantly, how does one react when the line is breached and enters the realm of a relationship?

I am increasingly convinced that the loss of a friendship, especially a sublime,special and ever-lasting one, is a far greater loss than losing the same person in a relationship. Such relationships with one's greatest friend ends up being a double-edged sword, as it promises such a fantastic future together, only to topple not only the relationship, but also the fantastic camaraderie, that exists between two people. I am not trying to generalise here, but I am quite convinced that it is never a good idea to lose one's greatest ever friend to a relationship. That can wreck havoc on the psyche, as the aura of companionship that was so much a part of one's life as friends, gets eroded under the magical aura of a relationship.

I think the line between friendship and a relationship with one's greatest friend is incredibly fine. And not too many people are good at reading that line. That can have devastating effects on the psyche. Permanently so. This is more damaging as one gets older, and one longs for such rare, genuine companionship, only to find that he/she is no longer a part of one's life - neither as a friend/companion, nor as a partner. 

It is much better to salvage a friendship and enjoy the incredible camaraderie of such equations between two people from the opposite genders. I am convinced that the agony of losing a friendship, especially, a very special one, is far more damaging and leaves a greater void, than does the agony of the relationship going all wrong. Yes, the loss of a relationship devastes a person but when that very relationship had its roots in extraordinarily genuine friendship, the loss of the latter is catastrophic. And when both losses happen, there is more than a reasonable chance to experience trauma that may never be cured.

Friendship! Ah, that sublime bond that teaches us so much about ourselves, makes us grow in the fond camaraderie and care of one's greatest/best friend ever and makes you an enriched human being. Losing it, can mean, losing the sounding board of your life. In many ways, losing a massive pillar of one's life. 

American elections on a Tuesday?

Ha ha ha, the age-old Indian superstition is being put to the sword. I am not for one moment ridiculing Indian history and tradition, just amply amused. We have grown up in an environment when the more momentous occasions, and new beginnings in life are never done on a Tuesday, in India. I have seen people put off decisions on a Tuesday, reconsider paths on other days of the week, delay the joining dates in companies (if the joining date is a Tuesday), look at other days of the week when they book tickets on flights and trains et al. Such is the superstitious adulation that a Tuesday gets. I have never managed to fathom the logical essence behind this superstition, but that's the way it is.

Yet, if we were to take a moment to universally accept that if Tuesday is not a good day for Indians to start something new, the same would be the case for a large part of the world. My logical being, human beings are human beings, and what is not so great in the realm of superstition for human beings in one part of the world, should hold true for human beings in other parts of the world too. But, looks like this superstition is getting summarily questioned now, what with the American President's election happening in a couple of days from now - Nov 4, a Tuesday!

So much for superstition! I just wish, we stick to tradition, history et al, and get rid of these sorts of superstitions, because they have no logical bearing. Every day, is a good day. If you think you are good enough to do something on some day, just do it. I mean, if things are expected to go so horribly wrong if you start something on a Tuesday, then why in the wild world do we need that day in the week? May as well see if we can scrap it, right? Hell, anything could go wrong on any day of the week. What's so special about a Tuesday being a sure recipe for disaster? Beyond me, these superstitions are. I just prefer tradition and history, rather than following these mad superstitions, which have no sensible explanation.

Anil...you inspire confidence,pride and supreme dignity

I am not the first one talking so highly of Anil Kumble. Nor am I the last Indian to be saying that I am so proud that such a fantastic individual graced the game of cricket at the international level for us, for such a long time. Makes me feel so proud as an Indian.

I consider myself quite fortunate of having spent 30 seconds next to Anil Kumble at the Bangalore cricket stadium in 1993. This was when he was not so famous. But, even then, I could not resist from going up to him and taking his autograph on a plastic cap that I had. Something about that man was inherently inspiring. I felt it even at that time - all of us are wiser in hindsight. But my gut feel told me about this man's greatness even then. I just felt a sense of immense pride getting his autograph on that Saturday afternoon back in 1993.

Another moment was the Titan Cup in 1997 in Bangalore. He and Srinath single-handedly took India to victory, after Mark Taylor hit his first ODI century. And the scenes in the stadium was a sight to behold. Cheering, even a good defensive shot against the impulsive, super-charged Glenn McGrath.

So, the great man has called it quits today. That too, at his favourite ground, the Ferosha Kotla, New Delhi. I dare say, it was simply terrific to see his family next to him, the entire stadium going up in unison cheering him, and on this occasion, seeing the Aussies credit the great man. It was simply terrific to see such unadulterated and sincere appreciation, respect and pride for a man who played international cricket for us, with such character.

I actually thought I'd have tons to write about this man when he retires. But today, as I see the headlines on the news, I am just lost for words for the manner in which this fine individual conducted himself even in his retirement. Simple, uncomplicated announcement, a last declaration and short stint of 4 overs on his favourite ground, greeting his opponents, fellow-players and umpires and heading out of the ground. The moment of Kumble's retirement at the Kotla has to his holding the Indian cap in his hand and waving it around the ground in his final lap of honour.

Hats off, Anil. Hats off. I am too little to be writing anything about you, except being inspired by you, to make a decent contribution in my own life. Hope to see you at the Bangalore stadium, in the future. I will definitely get your autograph again.

Vishy and VVS - simple champions!

We have a new world champion in chess. And I feel so proud that the title is in the hands of a fantastic champion. Viswanathan Anand has single-handedly put India on the world map of chess. I cannot forget the number of times his name has hogged the headlines for his wins around the globe. He has taken on the best of them in every corner of the globe for 25 years! Imagine, 25 years of concentration!Most people cannot get past 25 months! Hats off to this champion player and making India so proud. Imagine, WORLD CHAMPION. Wow! This great achievement sends inspirational goosebumps down my spine!

Of course, the other genius - VVS Laxman. MY GOD! That's my reaction to the man's displays of genius on a cricket field. Yes, the game of cricket has a far greater fan following in India, compared to chess. But, the number of genius' in the game, is rather small. VVS for me, is sheer genius. He makes the game look so ridiculously easy. I mean, how can somebody be so calm, completely assured, and still play some strokes that are nothing short of magical? It is beyond me as to how this man is able to lift his game to such levels, especially when people have written his epitaph for the millionth time and, when he plays against the Aussies. There must be something about the Aussies that he likes - it just can't be the pace of their bowling or their fear towards him. He just takes them on, in a way, that belies aggression, but is still merciless. I can never forget that 281 that he scored at the Eden Gardens against the Aussies in 2001. That was a seminal innings for me and taught us (not just cricketers, but Indians at large), that we are capable of routing the best in the world.

And today, 200 not out in Delhi by VVS! Same class, same magic, same genius, just getting better with age - something like old wine I guess.

What intrigues me is the similarity between a Viswanathan Anand and a VVS. Both are genius material in their respective spheres. Both hail from normal, middle-class backgrounds in India. Both have nurtured their talents over many years of training and exposure to world arenas. Both have won against the very best in the world, in the most trying of circumstances. Both of them are the best to watch when on song - irrespective of other champions & other people's records, these 2 are sublime to watch. When both of them play their game, I don't feel like doing anything else, simply because, I don't want to miss their magical contributions. It is like sitting on a Saturday afternoon on a hammock, listening to your favourite music, reading your favourite book, and getting merged with nature (assume for a second, that you are on the countryside) - natural, free-flowing, complete & uninhibited talent on song! Classical, too!

Most of all, they are simple south Indians. I am not making any regional statement here (I am all for uniformity); but, at the end of the day, if they get their normal idly or sambar, that is enough for them. But, how many simple south Indians borde such magic?:). That in itself, should be a theme for another blog.

Hats off Vishy! You make me proud as an Indian -world champion! I hope to get your autograph someday in life & a photograph with you, so that I can tell future generations about the first world chess champion that India produced - say it with pride.

And VVS, when you retire, I will get hold of a DVD of all your famous centuries against the Aussies. I just need to relive the word genius, again and again.

Of Diwali and television anchors

I couldn't stop myself from writing this. It just caught my attention! The television anchors over the last 3 days have been a revelation. The female anchors are usually clad in western clothes, with low cut tops, skirts, coats, long hair, high heeled sandals and so on. And the guys live up to the reputation of the pin-stripe community; you know, coats, ties, trousers, shoes et al!

But the last 3 days have seen Indian dressing at its best on new channels. I have been mesmerised by the choice of fantastic sarees by the female anchors - red, cream, ivory, green, olive green, brown, maroon, orange - every discernible resplendent colour possible. More importantly, I found that these female anchors were able to balance their presence on stage as well as, if not better than, what they normally manage during the rest of the year. Their colourful presence on stage was not at all a distraction, which might be the case at other times!

What I particularly liked was the energy of these anchors. They remained focused on their jobs, spoke with the same level of conviction that they had on other days, and did not make a mess of the paraphernalia that they had brought on to stage - earrings, flowers, nose rings, dupattas, and what have you! The guys were resplendent too - with sherwanis, or kurtas, pyjamas, big red tikas on their foreheads, and so on.

Just reinforced what I have long believed - Indian dressing, is one of the finest fashion statements to make. And increasingly, it is getting blended with some terrific sex appeal! You just need to take a look at Shireen Bahn on CNBC TV 18 on the Diwali night, and you will realise what I mean. Class journalist, who looked astonishingly beautiful, in a red saree. Her smile, just added to the beauty!

Cheers to Indian journalism and Indian anchors, who are seeing value in bringing world news to our doorways, with a very Indian look!