Differently Abled

 My heart goes out to poor Pooja, imagine the plight of this girl who braved artificially created or invented disabilities, ranging from vision to locomotor to even mental ones and then she had to suffer the ignominy of being clubbed with the backwards even. After having undergone such trials and tribulations this poor princess is being subjected to all kinds of trolling, and as if this wasn't enough now she is even being reverted back to the Academy for some chastising. 

Let us deliberate on each of her alleged misdemeanours, the first one being for ‘lack of vision’, that anomaly afflicts almost all, most of our babus have displayed this quality  in the 75 odd years of independent governance, so she is no exception and she should be given the benefit of doubt. I am quite sure once she rises in the hierarchy she will display this trait in ample abundance which will leave nobody in any doubt whatsoever. Locomotor disability was probably misunderstood by Ms Pooja as motor disability, as when she applied for the examination, she did not probably own the Audi then, so merely possessing an SUV obviously was a huge disability that too without the blue or red light perched on top to signify her eminence. This disability she was trying to overcome hence the efforts for having this ultimate symbol of power affixed on her Audi. Let us examine the mental issues now, this is quite obvious as with her shenanigans she has amply displayed temporary insanity, which is a clause which she will rely on to prove her innocence. After all an insane person is expected to do things out of the ordinary, and mind you geniuses are also borderline insane, as the famous quote by Nobel laureate Albert Einstein himself,"Only difference between genius and insanity is that a genius has his limits!" We have yet to ascertain her limits, so you never know she might just be a genius.

I am sure you recall that statement about ‘poverty being a state of mind’ by another genius, similarly backwardness is also a ‘state of mind’; i.e. it has nothing to do with belonging to the oppressed classes. As we all are aware, we have plenty of examples where generations have enjoyed the fruits of reservation, despite that they continue to languish in the state of backwardness as they haven't decided to progress into being a forward. Let me explain, in Football a Full Back remains a Full back, does he become a forward just because he ventures ahead once in a while. He retains his position and does not get convinced into changing it with that of a forward. Similarly a backward like poor little Pooja will retain this backwardness of mind irrespective of the best efforts by the state to con her.

There is another flimsy allegation against her about resorting to changing her names a couple of times, now that is actually victimising the lass, after all didn't the Bard himself state, "What's in a name, that which we call a rose by any other name will still smell as sweet!" So Khedkar Pooja Deeliprao will remain equally reverential as Pooja Manorama Dileep Khedkar. If you haven't got the reverential bit, well it is the literal meaning of Pooja, 'to offer prayers'. In fact we all should actually draw inspiration from her at this noble act of women empowerment, as she has inserted her mother's name with her name, like another celebrity film director Sanjay Leela Bhansali. 

 There are some other minor skeletons which have tumbled out like the divorce case of her parents being false. Once again instead of applauding this great couple at trying to salvage their marriage; despite having been divorced they are trying to put up a brave face and staying together for the sake of their precious pearl Pooja. Now who can possibly find fault with such genuine affection and no wonder they are seen together in election rallies too, even Dimple Khanna accompanied Rajesh Khanna when he canvassed for elections for New Delhi constituency in the nineties. Nobody pointed a finger at them. We can't be targeting these poor backward class parents. Her illustrious mother too was in the news for brandishing a gun; imagine she was only trying to protect her land, so just self defence and mind you she did not fire as she believed in just a show of force. 

So friends, tell me shouldn't we be honouring this girl rather performing her 'pooja' in place of harassing her. She is definitely differently abled, how differently is for you to figure out!

Big Faaaaat Wedding

 

There is an old song, "Begani shaadi mein Abdullah deewana" in a old RajKapoor film "Jis Desh Main Ganga Bahti Hai", senior citizens would recall, others will have to google. The movie was famous for the anti-dacoity stance and the movement to get them to surrender and rehabilitate them in civil society. But this blog is not about the Chambal dacoits, it is about the most talked about wedding of this century. No points for guessing, obviously the famous Ambani wedding, where Anant and Radhika tied the nuptial knot and the world watched the tamasha in awe. A topic for 'discussion over drinks' in the pubs, air conditioned lounges as also  'chai pe charcha' on the near by tea dhabas, some complaining of the obscene display of wealth and the unbecoming ostentatiousness of the latest edition of the soap opera, while for some others, their jaws dropped so vigorously that even dentists are finding it difficult to set them right at the razzmatazz and the extravaganza which left an indelible impression on the viewers. Some of us, hoi polloi who were not enamoured by this "big faaaat ( yes it was really fat)  Indian wedding were forced to watch it on almost all news channels and also in print media. With 5000 crores being spent on just a wedding, did I  say "just a wedding", well I apologise profusely before I invite opprobrium from all and sundry. No way, this was no ordinary wedding, even the Prince Charles-Lady Diana event couldn't come anywhere close, with the sheer spread of the event itself, shuffling across venues in two continents, guest list comprising the who's who of the Global Political, Entertainment, Sports, Multinational honchos, this one simply eclipsed everything else.

But then we Indians are like that only, the scale has to be grand, here of course they also had the means, but just look around each one of us is guilty of overdoing it. So much so that even our domestic help spends almost 30-40 grand on her grandson's first birthday, with a 10000 bucks gift thrown in. everything is on credit of course. The other help has been in a celebration mode ever since he has a nephew in the family with four major events already held, where the guest list list was close to 500 on each occasion. Now he is no Ambani or even his country cousin, but the celebrations must be grand in keeping with the occasion, else, "what will people say?"

Tongues have a dirty habit of wagging, they can't help it, but who gives a damn, Ambanis definitely don't, you may smirk as much as you want. Ambanis are businessmen, for them everything is just a means to network, so that more business deals may be struck on the sidelines making them richer. Why do you think people like John Kerry, Boris Johnson, Tony Blair,  Bill Gates, Mark Zuckerburg, Ivanka Trump and Bob Iger make a beeline for this event. Why should we be complaining, the money which they have spent, a major portion of that has been rerouted into our own economy. The consumption model of economy gleefully accepts any and every such 'band baaja baraat'.  Since I started with a Hindi movie song, let me finish with one as well, this time from Rishi Kapoor's "Khel Khel Mein", ".sab dekh rahe hain, to dekhne do, sab jal bhi rahe hain, to jalne do..khullam khulla pyar karenge.."

As for me, I am mighty disappointed that I was not considered worthy of an invite, after all I too am a celebrity in my own right, at least in my own circle of friends and family. Obviously Ambanis aren't impressed they haven't been shared a link to my blogs so far, me thinks high time someone does the honours, may be next time i too might get lucky! So for people like us, it is just a case of "Sour Grapes!"

Son of a Gun

 "Son of a gun", 'chickens have finally come home to roost', this is the common refrain at the assassination bid on Donald Trump. Isn't it ironical that ardent supporter of US Gun Laws became a victim of the very same gun, which is supposed to be meant for self defence and protection? A gun is a gun it doesn't distinguish between who is a supporter or who is not, it just does its task. So Thomas Matthew Crooks decided to put it to 'good use' as per him. After all second amendment to the US Constitution empowers each American citizen to bear arms and form part of a militia should the need arise. That may have been the case way back in the 18th century, wonder who in his right frame of mind would like the presence of armed militias roaming around the streets? The yanks think it is their right and that is not negotiable, well in that case they might as well go to Somalia, Sudan, Congo, Syria or any of the other strife torn places, where militias roam freely unchallenged. If things carry on like this the US may actually be heading in this very direction.

Guns wield power, "power flows from the barrel of the gun" as Chairman Mao said, no wonder US is the most powerful country in the world, a super power, they have more guns than people. People they have no dearth of, as there is a beeline for immigration to the El Dorado and guns are available in plenty, so more the merrier. We normally have been following or rather aping the West in most activities, so it is quite surprising that our leaders haven't thought of this short cut to power, just authorise them to wield guns and watch the fun. But on second thoughts, we don't need to, as our desi kattas (country made pistols) are easily available in the badlands where they could get you votes, organise kidnapping, carry out assassinations with the supari or merely threaten the people at large merely by carrying one. Whoever asked for a licence, that is for sissies, the bahubalis are supermen who are a law unto themselves.

We in the Army have been handling weapons since our training days, starting from the good old .22, 303 to SLRs, INSAS, Kalashnikovs, Uzis,  Pistol 9 mm, Glocks, Carbines, Dragunovs and what have you. The key to becoming a marksman was the grip of the weapon, as our Weapon Training Ustaads would say, "Nimbu nichod pakad", i.e. hold as tight as though you are squeezing a lemon, then just keep your weapon stable by taking a deep breath, exhaling just partially and holding it, thereafter squeeze the trigger gently not with a jerk. With the tripods and bipods, the stability issue was addressed by itself, so the wannabe assassin Thomas Matthew Crooks did not have to bother about undergoing extensive training in carrying out his operation. It was providence which saved Trump, a tilt at the last millisecond saved him from being a dead Donald Duck. So Donald literally ducked the Crooks' bullet.

Despite having lost four Presidents to assassinations and attempts on couple of others, the Gun lobby continues to wield such powers that even frequent shooting incidents in schools, public places the public is not outraged. Wonder when sanity will prevail…

Devil is in the Details

Monday morning 1000 hours the standard time for the Weekly Conferences and meetings in all HQs. I often wonder whether the conferences serve any purpose at all, on the contrary I think they are the bane of decision making. I am sure quite a few amongst us will wholeheartedly concur. If the boss finds it difficult to decide on a course of action and still wants to be seen as working diligently then the easiest way out is to call for a meeting. This malaise of meetings is a universal phenomena and cuts across all boundaries of corporate, bureaucracy, uniformed or academic fraternity. Deja vu! 

A surefire way of sending a proposal into an orbit is to call for a conference of all stakeholders. Firstly the boss has successfully avoided taking a decision, secondly he has put the complete team  in a spin, draft out an agenda, circulate it, although the agenda gets hijacked by the first speaker himself, if he is due for his report or appraisal not leaving the floor for the ones to follow. He has come prepared to put the attendees to death by power point. Microsoft Office has let this ghoul loose on this world which till then was happy with their Overhead Projector view-foils or slides. The beauty of these transparencies was that it required a draftsman to do them up for you, so there was a limit to the number of iterations it could be subjected to. But this means of torture called power point unleashed the devil in the commanders and bosses, where they could endlessly squabble over the scarlet, magenta, indigo.. pastel colours...their choice of colours would put any woman to shame. The animations and statistical charts available at the click of the mouse caught their fancy like that of a child with his new toy. As if this was not enough they would take a print out of these slides home and would not hesitate to call you in the middle of the night without as much as an apology for having woken you up, go on to explain the amendments which they wanted done by 0800 hours in the morning. Groggy and disoriented you were still trying to come to grips with what the boss's instructions when he disconnects, leaving you fully awake facing the nightmare of carrying out these corrections first thing in the morning.

Once the conferences commence there are many like me who switch off almost immediately and resort to testing my artistic skills by doodling with the sole purpose of keeping awake as it is, their sonorous dull monotone acts as a lullaby. Of course in between look at the speaker so as to appear to be really grasping every word and dutifully noting them down. At times I have even completed my blogs also in such long drawn affairs.

Agenda of most of the conferences in the Army is "danda", i.e. a good dressing down for anything and everything under the Sun. This danda is delivered within the first few minutes of the meeting, thereafter the participants are merely going through the motions. As if this wasn’t enough this Corona introduced another devil, the ubiquitous video conference, which has made life even more miserable for the employees. While the Armed Forces have always been a 24x7 round the clock job, for the first time even the Corporate guys were required to be available on call and that too on video. Naturally the frequency of conferences increased and misery multiplied manifold. The perils of video camera being on and the attendee not aware resulted in many a gaffes, some literally with their pants down.

I once attended an International Conference where I got to see the working of diplomacy at close quarters, language is a barrier but the way these diplomats play with words is to be seen to be believed. Every coma, full stop can convey a different meaning to the joint statement and hence the foreign office mandarins have to be masters of the language. While the conference itself was an update on the activities which was quite drab and dreary as nothing much had been achieved, but it had to be put in a way that appeared as though a lot had been accomplished. At the end of the day after squabbling over semantics for almost half a day, finally a joint communique was arrived at.  Devil was obviously in the details.

In complete contrast it’s a treat to see a unit in action, minimal orders, no time wasting conferences, just plain and simple action. If you want the work done, no conferences should be the mantra.

devil is in the details

Mhow in Monsoons

"Rain rain go away, little Johnny wants to play!" Oh those British, who suffered the terribly gloomy overcast weather back home, naturally  they always looked forward to a clear  bright sunny day and thus we had to endure such  nursery rhymes. We Indians, who have been scorched in the summer heat desperately wait for the very welcome monsoon showers for some respite. Our farmers depend on this very monsoon for their sowing season to begin, a drought year spells doom and disaster for their fragile home budget leading them into the debt trap.  Bimal Roy's immortal "Do Bigha Zamin" based on Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore's story where Balraj Sahni played the protagonist still gives me the goosebumps. We celebrate rains, welcoming them with Raga 'Megh', 'Megh Malhar' and even 'Miyan ki Malhar' which is supposed to be a creation of Tansen himself. These ragas could literally draw the clouds and rains would follow. Our folk songs be it 'Kajri' from eastern UP and Bihar or 'Teeyan' of Punjab, 'Bhilari' and 'Shetkari' in Marathi and even Meiteis of Manipur sing their 'Kumdam Eishei' delighting in the torrents of rain quenching the thirst of the parched mother  earth. 

As kids we would sing, "Pani baba aya kakdi bhutte laya" ( "Rains have brought fresh cucumber and corn along"). Moreover rainy days were declared holidays by school, we got to a chance to step into every puddle on our way back,  and although there were no " Daag achhe hain!" kind of advertisements those days, our mothers didn't mind, the only rebuke was for having got drenched in the rain, but were immediately handed over a glass full of hot milk after wrapping us up in something warm. The only time we resented rains was when it would pour the whole night but would clear up at daybreak and a trudge to the school had to be endured rather than sailing those paper boats in any and every small stream of flowing rain water. Jagjit Singh fans would recall the "Kagaz ki kashti barish ka paani" evergreen gazal which immediately transports you to your childhood days. Even later in life rain gods would be upto their mischief when they would teasingly sort of switch off the rains from up above, as we would be huddled up in our quilts just about 30 minutes before it was time for the morning PT. Grudgingly we would all land up for the parade and in just about 10-15 minutes the drizzle would be back just about enough for the warm up jog to continue. Then it didn't make any difference as it is we were drenched so just went through it mechanically. 

Monsoons in Mhow are special, this place is heavenly, the greenery, the gentle breeze, the undulating rolling hills, one just can't have enough of it. The fragrance of the earth wafts in the air as though she is grateful as her thirst is quenched. The shades of green makes us marvel at the beauty of creation itself, grass is darker, mango leaves are greyish green, leaves of Neem are with a yellowish tinge, Hibiscus is even darker in shade, Mogra leaves are light green and so on, we can just go on admiring it. All our lives we have been wedded to the Olive Green not realising the many hues and shades of green, mint, sea green, emerald, sage, pine, forest, hunter, tea and so on there are more than 240 shades, naturally making the other colours turn green with envy. Then there are the hot pakodas, roasted corn  with piping hot chai which are available at every nook and corner to make us savour this even more. Malwa region is blessed, no wonder Kalidas composed his epic "Meghdootam" in Ujjaini describing the pangs of separation of the Yaksha. The romance in the rains is best described in Hindi movies in the month of  Shravan in Hindu calendar and God forbid if the lovers are separated during this period then their "virah vedna" sort of oozes out in a lyrical form. If they are together it is "Rimjhim gire saawan sulag sulag jaye ye man.." where Amitabh Bachhan and Moushami Chatterjee sing hand in hand while enjoying getting drenched in the Mumbai monsoon.  

Mandu near Indore where the immortalised lovers BazBahadur and Roopmati once roamed, whose mesmerising bewitching beauty would surely have been helped by the monsoons to cast a spell. No wonder their love bloomed and became part of the folklore. May be it is the "M" factor, Monsoon, Madhya Pradesh Mhow, Mumbai , Malwa ,Mandu....

TULA-DAAN

In a landmark decision the State Cabinet of Madhya Pradesh has decided to get their ministers to file their own income tax return and hold your breath, pay from their own pockets and not from the state treasury. Now that does call for a celebration, after all, whoever heard of politicians giving away something voluntarily. I am sure most of you would be quite surprised to learn that since 1972, the income tax of State Ministers was being paid for by the exchequer for their exemplary service to the state. Freebies or 'revadis' begin at home, and since they all have benefitted from the largesse so is it any surprise that they want to share this booty with their ardent supporters as well. No not the income tax variety but 'free rations', 'free electricity', 'free housing', 'free mobile phones/laptops', cash incentives 'khata-khat' types as most of this lot are not tax payers in true democratic traditions.

The parliamentarians are unanimous only when they discuss the increase in their pay, allowances and pensions. There are no stipulations in terms of minimum service, even for a day if you have had the privilege of being the representative of the people, you are entitled to a pension. As if this is not enough they are eligible for multiple pensions for each term they have been MPs/MLAs. Recently it was the AAP govt in Punjab which has put an end to this multiple pensions. But then like the erstwhile royalty, today's politicians too are no less, in terms of privileges and perks. These extend to their extended family as well, one of our ex Presidents was known to have taken her complete clan for foreign jaunts on state expenses obviously.

Then there is 'horse trading', wonder how come loyal horses got associated with this term which is essentially used for driving a hard bargain to win over the assembly/parliament with pecuniary gains thrown in, in ample measure. If "Chetak" the ride of Maharana Pratap was alive he would have sued English language itself for this defamation. World over defections are frowned upon and politicians stick to their respective ideologies and parties, but we Indians do not suffer from any such qualms, we can switch loyalty at the drop of a hat or topee if you prefer, as hats were for the British. After all we are the descendants of Jaichand and Mir Jaffer, who could join hand with the enemies for the proverbial 40 pieces of silver. The infamous "Aya Ram- Gaya Ram" in the late sixties have been the inspiration for generations of our parliamentarians. May be there is a case where defections should be legalised like the IPL, an auction could be organised post elections and highest bidder walks away with the trophy.

Elections are a costly business and it can't be managed with just regular pay and allowances is quite obvious. I have a suggestion for our worthy leaders to consider, as they obviously are in need for that extra something to keep their electoral machine  up and running always. We must reimburse their food intake like the "tula daan", those of you who are not familiar with this term, let me explain, we have a tradition of weighing our kids with grains etc to donate to the needy, which is considered a holy and pious deed. Politicians also get weighed in at times on special occasions such as their birthdays with laddoos etc, but we need to modify this a little, after every meal that they take, they ought to be weighed against sackful of currency notes, which should be presented to them. I know even that may not be enough, so like the mythological King Shibi from Mahabharat, who was known to have offered his own flesh to save a dove from a kite, we may have to resort to do just that in days to come.

Its not over until its over

 

"You just dropped the World Cup mate!" that is what Steve Waugh reportedly told Herschelle Gibbs and guess what, the Proteas lost the match and the Kangaroos went on to win the World Cup in 1999. I am sure most of us would recall that moment. Similarly it was Surya Kumar Yadav who literally the grabbed the World Cup, in what was a spectacular catch. It was a fitting finale for the Wall, Rahul Dravid as the coach of Team India and both Rohit and Virat.  The men in blue really worked as a team, if it was not for Virat Kohli, we wouldn't have reached this fighting total, as at 34 for 3 we were literally looking at the end of the barrel. It was Axar Patel whose 47 kept the score board ticking when Virat was consolidating. Even Shivam Dube came to the aid of the party and scored a brisk 27, so far Virat and Shivam had a forgettable outing in this world cup. Now it was left to the bowlers to deliver, who started off well with both Arshdeep and Bumrah sharing the spoils reducing the South Africans to 12 for 2. Then the tables turned, as de Kock and Stubbs built a partnership  till Axar bowled him as he got over ambitious. Spinners were not effective on this pitch was obvious, but the disdain with which Klaasen treated them was to be seen to be believed. He made them look like novices, hitting back to back sixes, scoring 24 off an Axar over, he had almost snatched the match from the Men in Blue. 

But Team India had Hardik and Rohit looked at his Vice Captain to deliver, Klaasen chased a wide ball into Pant's safe gloves and there appeared a slim chance to be able crawl our way back from that 30 off 30 balls with 4 wickets still in hand and Miller still at the crease. Then the miracle happened in the shape of Surya running and catching what would have otherwise been a six. The precision with which he grabbed the ball, tossed it in the air when he himself went out of the boundary and jumped in grabbing it again without as much as touching boundary line markers speaks volumes about the  athleticism  of today's cricketers. Thereafter it was left to Arshdeep and Hardik to ensure that the tail did not wag and that they managed in style, bringing home the coveted trophy after 17 years. Catches win matches, this one won us the Championship, almost everyone was reminded of Kapil Dev's catch of Vivian Richards in 1983 World Cup. It turned the tide for India when they managed to defend 183 against the formidable West Indians. I can still recall, as I was listening to the commentary of the match, it was near midnight and so disappointed at our batting I was almost in tears when I told my father that we had goofed up and there was no hope whatsoever. I still recall what he told me, "Son it's not over until it is actually over, don't lose hope." Last night too I was watching the match with him and the feelings were similar when Klaasen was hammering away at everything thrown at him. My father said we just need this wicket and it seemed as though Hardik heard him and the prayers of 140 billion Indians, rest as they say is history.