Lessons from 2026 Midterm elections

Remember the Bollywood movie HUM from the late 1980s where a Jailer played by the legendary actor Dilip Kumar slaps the Evil Dr. Dang ? After receiving the thunder slap Dr. Dang responds - "ISS THAPPAD KI GOONJ SOONI TUMNE" (Did you hear the reverberation of this slap) ? Hopefully Trump has heard the echo of the slap given to him by the American voters in the just concluded midterm as the Democrats swept to majority in both House and the Senate.

Though the midterm was about races for House and several Senate seats and Governors, no doubt it was a referendum on Trump and his policies. This election yet vindicated that aggressive vocal rhetorics and demagoguery may sound influential, but it doesn't necessarily mean that one's influential and followers would stay loyal and numerous forever. Everything has its own expiry date and there can be crack in the wall of loyalty. Nothing lasts forever.
What was the main reason for the Democrat's victory ? Elections boil down to one thing - it's economy stupid. End of the day it's not the GDP or Data centers, it is the price of gas at the local gas station and the cost of grocery at the neighborhood supermarket which matters. Stubbornly high inflation and high gas price due to Iran war hung like an albatross on the voters neck. They breathed a sigh of relief by venting their frustration at the polling booth. One thing was clear - the voters though not very fond of the Democrats didn't show no love lost for Republicans - because of the two "I" - Iran and Inflation.

At the same time Democrats shouldn't be prematurely popping up their Champagne. By taking over the House and the Senate they have their tasks cut out for them. Just opposition to Trump isn't what they should to do. They need to spell out their narratives and agenda, especially about the middle class and the economy - which is their Trump card. Simply being anti-Trump will take them nowhere. It's time they let the keep the voters trust on them with a bipartisan plan for the future, so that they won't get blamed if Trump won't cooperate. Democrats should go back to their drawing board, be the champion of the American middle class, not the party of the woke, or the extreme left. In nutshell, Dems should realize that this is a vote against Trump's policies, not a mandate for socialism. Otherwise they will have the same fate as Republicans. What goes around, comes around.

Going forward both parties need to do some homework from lessons learnt. GOP should be the party of moderates, the party of Abe Lincoln. Democrats shouldn't breathe a sigh of relief that the Republicans are getting decimated. They are being seen more and more as the party of the woke. They should get back to their basics and be the champion of the American middle class who had been the traditional the base of the Democratic Party. America is a Center - Right nation, so harping on defunding the police, unbridled illegal immigration isn't going to help the party on long run. They need to have a coherent messaging for the public rather than sitting and waithing for Trump to fail. Hope both parties have learnt their lessons in this midterm election. May going forward, common sense and bipartisanship prevails and becomes the sine qua non of the elected officials in Washington.

Gloomy Sunday

 It feels gloomy when you wake up after taking siesta on a cool, cloudy Sunday afternoon with the spectre of a long work week ahead and a morbid feeling engulfing the mood. It feels gloomier when you remember an article from your childhood days published under the section "True tales stranger than fictions" in a magazine in the 1980s named MIRROR (now defunct).

One not so fine Sunday afternoon, a nondescript jilted European youth dumped by his beloved composed this fateful music in between the gloomy times between the two World Wars, aptly naming it - "Gloomy Sunday". Whenever this ill fated song was played over Radio and hit the European Airwaves, it led to several suicides across the continent ranging from Italy to Germany. Some jumped off the bridges, some shot, hanged or poisoned by killing themselves, blaming the music on their suicide notes.

The saga of the suicides did not end there. The ill fated music took its toll as the jilted composer was jolted by the news of his ex-girlfriend, the reason behind his composition of the ill fated music committed suicide by consuming poison using a paper on which the song was written. The unfortunate lover, an already heartbroken guy, was totally devastated as he didn't want his ex-girlfriend to die.

The song had to be banned and the radio stations stopped playing it, never to be heard ever again. Thus ended the saga of Gloomy Sunday.

Finally a Song on a cold, cloudy gloomy Sunday 

Yeh Facebook ki Duniya,
Yeh Like ki Duniya.
Yeh Share Ki Duniya,
Yeh Posting the Duniya.
Yeh Duniya Agar Mil Bhi Jaye To Kya hai...

Transliterated...

"This Facebook world,
This Likes 👍 world.
This Share world,
This Post world.
So what even if I get this world ?

(Based upon the famous song from Guru Dutt's PYASA, an actor known to make gloomy movies and committed suicide).

Death Anniversary of Indira Gandhi

Exactly 42 years ago, on the morning of 31st October, 1984 Indira Gandhi, India's Prime Minister was assassinated by her Sikh body guards. Incidentally she was in Bhubaneswar in the state of Odisha the day before and I saw her from close quarters. I vividly remember that day as our classes in BJB College were suspended. An ongoing cricket match between India and Pakistan got canceled midway through the match. Coincidentally her father PM Jawaharlal Nehru and youngest son Sanjay Gandhi were in Odisha just days before they died.

Eminent writer Khushwant Singh once used to be very close to Gandhi family, especially to her younger son Sanjay Gandhi, but later fell out of her favor after Sanjay's death in an air crash. He wanted to visit her place to pay his last respect in spite of their estrangement. When he was about to leave he got a call. A well wisher on the other side cautioned him - "Sardarjee (as Sikhs are addressed), Have you lost your mind ? Don't ever dare going out now. The goons of Congress are dragging Sikhs out of vehicles and roasting them alive. They are going to make a Sikh KABAAB (roast) out of you".

Needless to say, the hired goons of HKL Bhagat (An East Delhi Mafia) and goon troika of Lalit Maken, Jagdish Tytler and Sajjan Kumar - all HONORABLE MPs from Congress party, were directly accused of conniving and in complicity with the rioters against the hapless Sikhs who had no connection with Indira's killers except their religion. Thousands of Sikhs were killed and maimed in the days followed. Estimates vary - from the government issued figure of 2,800 to the independently assessed numbers 8,000 - 10,000.

All said and done, hardened criminals were released from jails that fateful evening in full police protection. Scores were armed with iron rods and Kerosene oil. Bribed and motivated by the handouts of 100 rupee note (had a decent purchase value then) and fueled by bottles of liquors alleged supplied by Sajjan Kumar and Lalit Maken (Uncle of Congress politician Ajay Maken who was a baby when his parents were mowed down by Sikh gunmen months later for his dad's involvement in anti-Sikh riots in Delhi), went on rampage, destroying life and property of Sikhs they came across.

Indira's son Rajeev Gandhi who took over as the Prime Minister immediately after his mother's untimely death shrugged off the Sikh massacre as "When a big tree falls the surrounding earth shakes". Government controlled All India Radio and Doordarshan blacked out the mass killing of Sikhs. People tuned in to British Broadcasting Corporation(BBC) to get the stunning news of Sikhs being killed not in the hundreds but in thousands (Ironically the news of killing of Sikhs by iron rods and garlanding them with tyres set on fire would have stayed hidden from the same folks who today despise BBC for reporting some unpalatable truth).

This is not the sole example. Our great Congress party, espousing soft Hindutva has a history of involvement in several large scale killing of minorities including Muslims whom ironically it now portrays itself as their savior. The following ones come on top of my mind, though I am sure of many more such incidents taking place under the auspices of our Grand Old Party Congress.

1983 - Nellie massacre in Assam (3,000 killed)
1987 - Maliana near Meerut (50 Muslim youths picked up from their homes and killed by the UP police)
1989 - Bhagalpur in Bihar (1000 killed).

Congress was in power in both at the Center and the above states during the above mentioned pogroms of Muslims.

BJP is no lily white, but it sounds utter hypocrisy soaked in double standards when Congies like Digvijaya Singh and Ajay Maken whose father incidentally handed out 100 rupee notes and liquor bottles as prize to teach the Sikhs a lesson, are accusing BJP of resorting to Communalism. This is nothing but a classic case of pot calling the kettle black. Death of Indira was itself the end of an era but the progrom that followed paved the way minority bashing in the future.

Kumar Purnima 2026

 The festival of KUMAR PURNIMA (The Full Moon day of Youth) is celebrated in Odisha on the auspicious day of SHARAT PURNIMA, also known as the "Hunters Moon", the Full Moon immediately following the DASAHARA festival. This year Kumar Purnima is being celebrated today.

Unlike the more prominent national festivals of DASAHARA and DIWALI, sandwiched between these two, KUMAR PURNIMA is very specific to the state of Odisha. The occasion is perfect when the prickly heat and slushy ground post the monsoon season gives way to a balmy, salubrious weather under a clear blue sky, culminating in full blown "Hunters moon" smiling on top of the sky, playing hide and seek with floating fleecy white cloud.

The young, nubile Odia girls pray on this day aspiring for a handsome groom, her Knight-in-Shining-Armor dream man to lift her in his strong, loving, caring arms to the distant full moon smiling up above the sky. Boys and girls alike attire themselves in their brand new sets of clothes. Varieties of PITHA (rice based cakes) are cooked at home from the thinner variety called CHAKULI to the baked variety of slightly larger than Golf ball size "ENDURI PITHA", which are no doubt healthy and tasty, but BIRI or lentil component in it produces a lot of gas. My favorite is the rice based MANDA PITHA which is stuffed with grated coconut laced with jaggery.

During our childhood days, we used to have an extended Puja vacation in our village near Puri, with the much awaited Kumar Purnima a fitting finale to the extended Puja holidays. My first memory goes back to 1976, exactly 50 years ago under a sparkling silver moon, we kids would moon around the tall coconut trees, creating clouds of dust in the surrounding, still struggling to digest the sumptuous lunch of NADIA KHECHADI (ghee laced yellow rice with sprinkled grated coconut), Sweet Dal and an array of other delicacies, singing together...

JANHI PHOOLA THO THA,
KAKUDI PHOOLA THO THA.
GUNDUCHI MUSA KAHI JAUCHI CHAULA MUTHE THOI THA.

roughly transliterated...

Ridge Gourd flowers go burst, 
Cucumber flowers go burst.
The Squirrel has spread message,
Keep a handful of Rice for forage.

Today half a century years later, I stand in my backyard under a spotted blue sky due to partly cloudy on a cool, windy American Fall watching leaves fall, deriving vicarious pleasure of another time looking at the full moon rising behind a starry sky through the pine trees - the virtual substitute for the coconut trees back home, as the swaying, chirping little birdies crisscross the crimson sky of the twilight. The plumpy, tabby feral cat in my backyard chases away a squirrel, reminding me of the lanky kitty cat "Tipu" staring at us kids in our village from a safe distance as we went frolicking around the coconut and betel nut trees. Tipu is long dead, but still immoral, alive in my memory.

The slowly rising full moon goes hiding behind the pine trees, as the leaves swaying to the wind gusts try to wipe the dirt off its surface like a wiper cleaning a car windshield, giving me a clear view of the rabbit on the moon. An array of  Pelicans pass by cawing PAAON PAAON. The brightly moonlit yellow dandelion flowers leaves look brighter, smiling at me, reminding my good old childhood days and the nostalgic memories of a bygone era to cherish forever. HAPPY KUMAR PURNIMA TO ALL.

Happy Dasahara 2026

Durga Puja is thick in the air, as thick as the smell of "JHUNA" (Saal Resin, sweet smelling powder sourced from bark of a tree when lit emits perfumed smoke). Today it culminates on DASAHARA (10th day), after passing ASHTAMI (the 8th day of worship of Goddess Maa Durga) when the worship is at its peak. The air is filled with a unique festive flavor - the sound of music blaring and the sight of huge idols of Maa Durga on the PANDAL (pedestal). Puja always puts me on a Time Machine, propelling me back to my growing up days in Odisha and certain related events forever etched in my memory.

Once I brought some PRASAD (offering to deities) from Lord Jagannath temple, Puri for the priest at the local temple in the United States. The priest, a Brahmin from Gujarat, was very pleased with what I got for him from the sacred Jagannath DHAM (abode). We sat down chatting, as he asked me about my trip. I told him how much I cherish the fish and goat meat curry in Odisha. He was appalled and could not believe a Brahmin being a voracious eater of fish and a four legged animal. He asked me "AAP BRAHMAN HO KAR KAISE EK JEEV KO KHA SAKTE HAIN" - How can a Brahmin in you could you eat an animal ?

I had no answer, but narrated to him my childhood experience when we used to religiously visit our ancestral village near Puri during Durga Puja vacation - the equivalence of Christmas break in US. It was fun time when post monsoon the air was calm, moonlit nights cool and crispy. The schools, colleges would be in holidays and us in a festive mood. Unlike Diwali in most parts of India, Durga Puja ending in DASAHARA (Dussera) used to the major attraction in Odisha followed by the festival of Kumar Purnima on the following full moon day. Of late this has been somewhat diluted due to rapid cultural invasion from  outside, as our DIPAABALI got converted to DIWALI. 

The most awaited event would be the ASHTAMI (8th day) for the annual ritual of goat sacrifice. On that fateful day villagers would walk in droves to catch a glimpse of BODA HANA (Goat slaughter). The sacrificial BODA (non-castrated male goat with goatee and smelling horrible) destined for slaughter would be brought in and tied to a post. The priest would arrive chanting MANTRA (hymns) amidst the cacophony of the beating of GHANTA (large brass circular plates). 

A strongly built DHOBA (washerman) of our village with twitched Walrus moustache with its thick end pointing downward would arrive on scene. Wiping off the layers of sweat beads from his forehead, he would unleash a sharp sword glittering under the morning Fall (Autumn) sun. With one massive blow he would detach the head of the goat from its body. The disoriented torso of the goat would meander a few feet before collapsing, with its eyes wide open, still gaping at the crowd. The priest would collect its blood and offer it to the Goddess. Later on the goat would be skinned and its meat divided equally among the villagers as PRASAD (sacred offering).

This whole episode which created an earthquake in my mind wasn't free from aftershocks. For the next few days all that glittered wasn't gold, rather the unforgettable glittering sword slashing through the goat's neck gave me nightmares of the torso chasing me, the detached head hovering over it, the eyes still open and staring at me. As I tried to flee, it was catching up on me. I tried to outrun it, but still unable to move as the goatly apparition closed on me. I would be up in a flash sweating profusely. My sister sacrificed meat eating after watching one such goat sacrifice on auspicious day of ASHTAMI. 

Back to the future - the same aftershock came back to life, as our priest from Gujarat in Georgia who was patiently hearing my narration almost fainted. He could not digest this scene happening in a Brahmin village where his counterparts had no issues digesting the scene, followed by meat. I can vouch he was glad that I did not bring any PRASAD from my village.

As the puja juggernaut trudges ahead, I am reminded of the night of DASHAHARA (Dussera) festivals, chariot carrying our village diety would roll on the narrow, dusty track in between the lines of thatched roofs. It would make intermittent stops in front of each house, as the designated priest would climb the stairs made from MANKADAA PATHARA (black poked sedimentary rock) leading to the main door.

He would swivel his GINI (another conical device made from brass) on his left arm and swirl few drops of water around the BHOGA, the sacred offering of PITHA (rice and lentil based cakes) from the household, uttering OM HING KLING NAIBEDYAM SAMARPAYAMI (oh lord, I offer thee these pious offerings). Soon the priest would walk down, followed by urchins from the households joining the melee, chasing the chariot. Most of them invariably wore loose fit shorts, frantically lifting their pants which would frequently slip off as they chase the chariot amidst the haze of dust lifting up under the  lantern lights in the dark.

The incessant cacophony from the GHANTA continued, as the chariot juggernauts ahead. I queried a fellow village youth, what a particular tune of DHAIN DHAIN DHAIN..DHAIN DHAIN DHAIN means. He told me it rhymes with,

AHE CHAKA DOLA
TAMA BOPA KALE KHAITHILA KI
BAIGANA SANTULA.

Transliterated to English...

O Lord Jagannath
In your father's generation,
Did you ever ate soup of boiled Eggplant ?

Happy Durga Puja and DASAHARA to all..

Happy birthday Akshaya Mohanty

 If he were alive, the legendary Odia singer Akshaya Mohanty born this day in October, 1934, would be 92 year old today. Like Kishore Kumar, he was a virtuoso, a multifaceted artistic talent from Odisha. Though better known as a versatile singer, the lyricist in him penned many songs - from serious to romantic, from comic to melancholy ones. Arguably the musical all rounder in him placed him above the rest of the contemporaries from his generation, which included a field of gifted artistic talents from the state of Odisha, the likes of Pranab Patnaik, Chitta Jena, Sikandar Alam, Prafulla Kar.

Khoka Bhai (Akshaya Mohanty went by this nickname), started singing in the 1950s and was at his peak in the 1970s. During that time he made the cardinal mistake of quitting his cushy government job to fully focus on his musical career. Unfortunately for him, he belonged to a state better known as the graveyard of artistic pursuits. Those were the days when government was the main employment provider. Odias in general looked down upon and harbored anathema towards anything but secured SARAKARI (government) job. He could have continued "NISARE GHIA MARI" (rubbed Clarified Butter on his moustache, meaning worked without fear of losing the job) and carried on nonchalantly in his secured job nonstop till he attained superannuation at the age of 58. He still could have continued to sing untill his death, completely assured by the safety net of "Sarkari" pensions. But he took a risk to follow his passion, his first love music. But unfortunately for him like most first loves it didn't materialize for him and remained stillborn, him paying a big price for quitting his government job.

Khoka bhai sang many Odia hits. His records sold well. He was hugely popular and immensely admired, yet his going professional in the field of music did not fetch him the remuneration to amply compensate for his ability. By mid 1980s he was not in good economic shape. Everyone admired his songs and music, but going professional didn't provide him a sustainable source of income. He took to alcohol and continued to abuse himself. My brother-in-law who interacted with him extensively during the maestro's trip to Chicago in June, 2001 often found him drunk, staggering and blabbering around. His reckless habits cut short his life and career as he died a year later in the year 2002. He was only 68.

After listening to Akshaya Mohanty's title song from movie "JAJABARA", Lata Mangeshkar suggested him to try his luck in Bollywood. But a laid back Akshaya Mohanty would never do that. He visited America multiple times and enthralled the NROs (Non Resident Odias) with his songs, making them nostalgic. My memory goes back to the year 1979 when his trip to America was well covered in the local Odia newspapers. Those days coming to America used to be a big deal. The legendary singer, post returning from his American trip quoted in the popular local Odia daily "SAMAJA" - "Even cats and dogs are better off in America than humans here in Odisha".

India has come a long way since 1979, now a 4 trillion dollar plus economy chugging ahead. Visiting America is no longer a big deal to get publicized in local newspapers. But those were the days. Soon came out a song composed and recorded by him based on his first hand American experience,

AMERICA RE PREMA HUE
BEECH ROAD UPARE,
AMA CUTTACK RE PREMA HUE
BHAI RIKSHAW PACHHARE.

Transliterated....

 (Love in America
  is a road side show,
  In Cuttack love happens
  behind Rickshaw).

The young generation in Odisha since have lifted their veil of shyness, enjoying their amorous aventures in middle of parks and pubs - even on BEECH (Middle of) roads as hand pulled Rickshaws have given way to their Autorickshaw cousins. Saluting the Maestro and wishing him a Happy Birthday, let me end my ode to him with this funny number, penned by himself,
"PREMIKARA BARIADE BAIDHANKA
AU BICHHUATA BANA,
DEKHIBAKU MANA CHHANA CHHANA
KUNDAAI KUNDAAI GALA PRANA".

Roughly transliterated

"My beloved's home backyard
Has a jungle filled with Poison Ivy,
In the eagerness to watch her stealthily,
I had to scratch myself heavy."

Happy birthday JP

Jayaprakash Narayan is amongst the numerous great persons born in the month of October (incidentally he died in the same month also). He is one of our much forgotten heroes. For me, JP, as Jayaprakash Narayan was popularly know as, was synonymous to the public's opposition to the historic, draconian Emergency imposed in June, 1975 and his role in the India's Lok Sabha (Parliament) elections that followed in March 1977, when Indira Gandhi who had imposed emergency called it off and announced fresh election only to be drowned by the Janata Party Tsunami.

As a child I have little memory of Emergency, but still remember the headlines on newspaper "The Times of India "JP WAVE UNABATED" (used to be delivered in Bhubaneswar by flights from Delhi in the evening). Jayaprakash Narayan, also known as LOK NAYAK (Leader Of The People) was creating waves across North India which wiped away the entire Congress from the cow belt. His slogan "SINGHASAN KHALI KARO, KI JANATA A RAHI HAI (Relinquish power, as Janata Juggernaut is on its way) caught the imagination of the masses in North India where the Congress Party was literally wiped out. (Though North India punished Indira Gandhi for Emergency, South India solidly stood behind her as she swept the Southern states).

I remember my father and uncle clinging to the radio to get the latest election results from BBC whom the public those days trusted it more for authentic news as AIR (All India radio) was the government's propaganda mouthpiece (Have things changed much these days) ? Late in the night came the news of Indira Gandhi and her son Sanjay's defeat followed by spontaneous celebrations on streets.

Indira Gandhi was defeated by Raj Narain, a political buffoon of the time and her son Sanjay by a local duffer goon. I remember fireworks going up lighting the sky and celebrations near SOOCHANA BHAWAN (Information center) in Bhubaneswar, only source of latest news those days, when internet, social media and for the most TV was strictly fantasy.

Delhi also didn't sleep that night when its denizens went on a frenzied celebration spree. I still remember the pictures next day of folks in bell bottom pants and long sideburns dancing on streets of our capital city flashed on Newspapers.

The man who sowed the seeds of the first anti-Congress government at the center with his concept of "Total Revolution" and united different political factions from socialist left to Right Wing under a single umbrella called Janata Party, is now India's a much forgotten and neglected hero. Khushwant Singh who interacted with many Who's & Who's during his long life span, mentioned JP as the top 5 personalities he admired -  "this man was so powerful and charismatic, yet so down to earth that though an extremely busy person he would give an audience and a patient hearing to everyone, big or small who visited him". 

Without him, Indira Gandhi could have defeated the fragmented opposition (she in fact swept the South and portions of Gujarat and Maharashtra who stood solidly with her despite the Emergeny) and possibly christened herself as the Queen of India and her son Sanjay as the Crown Prince. Thanks mostly to JP,  it didn't happen and democracy survived in India. Indira was to be taught a lesson. Otherwise she could might have made India her dictatorship. Emergency was probably her testing ground for that.

Soon after his death, the Janata Party splintered. Many likes Laloo Yadav who grew under JP's shadow promising to help the poor, ended up making himself and his family rich by indulging in rampant corruption. His followers forgot him and his ideology. Lot of things currently across the country echoes the times of Emergency days, yet vindicating history repeats itself and those who forget history are condemned to repeat it. HAPPY BIRTHDAY Lok Nayak Jayaprakash Narayan, last but the least one more of our forgotten heroes.