Happy Utkal Divas 2017

 A scene from the Hindi movie ASHOKA still rings a bell. When Prince Ashok, played by the popular actor Sah Rukh Khan arrives in KALING (modern day Odisha), he is offered food by a native who says KALING MEIN KOI BHUKHA NAHI RAHTA (nobody goes hungry in Odisha). 

History depicts Kalinga as an Independent, indomitable Republic of the time. A maritime superpower, rich and robust enough to challenge the powerful Maurya Dynasty. Chandragupta Maurya and his son Bindusara, both spectacularly failed to conquer it. 

CHANDASHOK (Ashok, the Cruel), their scion, won a pyrrhic victory over his old adversary who fought bravely till end. The war was bloody enough to transform CHANDASHOK (Ashok, the Cruel) into DHARMASHOK (Ashok, the Pious). Couple of centuries later, KHARABELA, the emperor of Kalinga avenged the defeat by conquering and ransacking Magadh (modern day Bihar). 

From 11th to 15th century AD, the Gajapati (Lord of Elephants) kings of Odisha built embarkments on rivers, created impressive architectural feats like the Sun Temple of Konark (Black Pagoda), defended aggression from enemies and built a great civilization. At one point of time the Kalinga empire extended from Ganges in North to Godavari in the south under King Kapilendra Deb.

But in the age sans contraceptives, the mighty King maintained both Queens and Kepts who kept delivering broods of legitimate and illegitimate progenies. His descendants involved themselves in internecine fatricidal wars and managed to sow the seeds of the demise of the great Kalinga empire.

This downfall accentuated with the advent of BHAKTI (devotional) movement and KIRTAN (devotional chant) culture introduced by Sri Chaitanya Mahaprabhu, a mendicant of 15th century, who arguably was the harbinger of the beginning of the end of Odias as a martial race. Our last independent rulers Pratap Rudra Deb, Mukunda Dev and their army of generals soon considered themselves as the Gopis of Lord Krishna.

The soldiers known for their bravery laid down their arms and started begging alms; singing BHAJANs and doing KIRTAN in chorus. (This trait continues, as the state still prides begging from center and abroad). Their KHANDA (sword) was replaced by KENDARAA (mini violins). The fearless soldiers, who for centuries walked with their heads held higher, now held KENDARAA high above his head, similar to the one held by Sri Chaitnanya.

Odisha was soon be conquered by the Islamic invaders and the marauding Marathas who never believed in KIRTANs (Marathas though had their share of Bhakti movement of Tukaram and Eknath did not relinquish their martial traits). It yet vindicated that swords carry more weight and conquer more effectively than the Violins.

Traces of the martial trait was still visible in the form of the resistance offered by Buxi Jagabandhu, leader of the PAIKAs (a warring class), who fought bravely against the British during early 18th century.

Now, as they say in Odia - KARPUPRA UDIJAICHI, KANAA PADICHI (camphor gone, cloth remains). It means what remains to cherish is the little perfume of past glory lying ruined in the drifting sands of time. Let's hope we can get back some of the past glory in our lifetime. BANDE UTKAL JANANI (Hail Mother Odisha) and HAPPY UTKAL DIBASA to all.

Autobiography of Nilakantha Das - IV

This is the 4th in series of recapitulation in my own words portions of Pandit Nilakantha Das's Biography in Odia....

Those days it was common for men to get married during their teens and girls before reaching puberty. Still in School, an educated Nilakantha Das was very much in demand by the prospective groom hunters. His father was approached by one such gentleman with a NAGADA (instant payment) cash offer of Rs.4000, a hefty anount those days - with the additional assurance of the bride's father bearing any addition cost involving higher studies by prospective son-in-law.

The young Nilakantha reacted by reciting the following couplet in Sanskrit :

UTTAMMAM SWA ARJITA BITTAM,

MADHYAMAM PITRU ARJITA.

ADHAMAM BHATRU BITTAM,

STHEEE BITTAM MAHAMADHYAM.

Roughly transliterated....

"Excellent is money earned on your own,

 Okay is the money received from dad.

 Bad is living upon Brother's money,

 Worst is to live off on wife's earning."

His father got the message and did not proceed further on the proposal.

While studying in Puri JILLAH (district) School, Pandit Nilakantha Das was fortunate to see the first Odia to join as the Headmaster of the institution. His name was Chandramohan Maharana.

He made history of sort - for the prestigious post of Headmaster of one of the leading schools of Odisha were invariably Bengalis and from the upper caste. Chandramohan Maharana was neither. So, he was expected to get some brickbats which came soon in the form of a taunt. Some one placed hammer and chisel on his desk, alluding to his caste of MAHARANA or Carpenter - comparatively lower than the usually dominating higher castes. But he wasn't from BADHEI (carpenter) caste, he was a THATTARI ( I have not idea about this caste).

This clearly racist treatment meted out to Sri Maharana did not go unnoticed to young Nilakantha, which he ascribed to lack of enough High schools of stature in Odisha to churn out educated folks. So, along with his erudite friends, they planned on starting a school in the lines of the famed English Schools of Ferguson College, Harrow and Eaton. 

Their dream came true with the formation of SATYAVADI VIDYALAYA in 1909, the year he passed BA and went to Calcutta to do his MA with a monthly Scholarship of Rs.30. In spite of ill health during the final exams (test) he got his MA Degree in 1911.

At Calcutta he had his fill of exotic veggies like Cauliflower, Cabbage and a dried fruit called Raisin. (Incidentally my grandfather who along with his brothers operated a hotel in Calcutta prior to Independence would bring Cabbages to his native village. The new vegetable won't be cooked in HANDI SALA or main kitchen, rather at centre of the house under open sky. The spicy smell of Cabbage curry would attract droves of curious onlookers, sniffing at it from a safe distance.

Back to Odisha, with his rare higher qualifications, he did not have to look for jobs. Lucrative jobs were looking for him. But he settled down as a teacher in the SATYAVADI school along with his other friends. The year was 1912.

Though corruption was hardly rampant, it wasn't entirely unheard of either. A certain person known to him, working in Khurda court wanted to be a teacher at the School, which was now gaining momentum, starting to get a name. One fine morning he showed up at school and approached Pandit Nilakantha to join as a teacher. There was no need for any additional teacher at that time, so Sri Das politely declined.

Refusing to relent, the man offered him a bribe of Rupee 1. As it did not have any impact, he then increased it to Rs.2, not a bad amount those days. This would be considered normal today, but a little more than a century ago Pandit Das felt sick to his stomach, astonished with this disgusting behavior of someone he considered a gentleman.

A few days later, Mr. Godabarisha Mohapatra, a towering figure with a towering name, joined the noble profession of teaching at the school. He had plenty of credentials of his own and didn't need to bribe anyone. Godabarisha Mohapatra, Nilakantha Das along with his other friends Gopabandhu Das, Krupasindhu Mishra and Acharya Harihara now formed the Famous "Five Friends" or PANCHA SAKHA.

TO BE CONTINUED, AS I READ 📖 FURTHER

Autobiography of Nilakantha Das - III

This is the 3rd in series of recapitulation in my own words portions of Pandit Nilakantha Das's Biography in Odia....

Pandit Nilakantha Das's rendezvous with dreaded Cholera epidemics continued, for he would soon get bitten by the dreaded bug. After several bounds of dysentery, when he was too dehydrated even to get up, his bosom buddies Gopandhu Das and Acharya Harihar would carry him out to let him relieve, then cleanse him befitting a Brahmin. This continued half a dozen times, at which point they left all hopes on him.

The nature of the fatality associated with the much feared disease broke their nerve. A lead doctor of Puri, Ananda Lal Mitra was immediately summoned (there was a clear Bengali dominance in almost all eminent high qualified professions in Odisha at that time). His vision became blurred and he started to sweat. Sensing an impending death, Pandit Nilakantha requested his friends to chant his favorite SLOKA (hymn) from Geeta. Streams of tears rolled from the eyes of the friend duo as they cried like kids. They lifted him to a single room to take exclusive care of him. Fate had different things in store for Pandit Nilakhantha Das. He slowly started getting better and fully recovered in a week.

Das and his friends' tryst with the lethal disease hardened their resolve to fight it. Encountering it from close quarters helped them overcome the its fear. They did something unthinkable of that time, to take the Cholera Bull by its horn - Getting close and taking care those infected with this marauding ailment, from administering them medicines to doing their last rights - for no one would dare to touch a person cursed by BAADI THAKURANI (The Goddess of Cholera).

Sometimes the Cholera was so widespread that there was no time to give them to nurse, not even give them a proper funeral as the dead bodies abound dime a dozen. Once in Cuttack at the peak of the epidemics, Nilakantha and his small army of friends put fire on the mouth of dead bodies before dumping them into river Mahanadi at spate - as Cholera would happen invariably during monsoon time.

In 1912, there was NABA KAKALEBARA (Change of Body by Lord Jagannath). Due to access to rail thousands thronged Puri, followed by one of the worst Cholera epidemics Pandit Das had seen. He took a tab of it - out of 118 patients he nursed, only 19 died. It was a grand success, considering the reverse happened. It was mainly due to the indomitable spirit of Nilakantha Das and his friends, the relentless treatment and homeopathic medicine administered following the instructions from "Salazar's 3 lectures of Cholera", a book he grabbed from Calcutta.

Not all episodes and escapes during his stay in Cuttack were tragic, there were a few comic instances as well. Those days couple of gentlemen, Gopabandhu Das and Lokanath Patnaik, both considered as connoisseurs of Odia literature. Their answer paper in the BA exams was evaluated by a person no other than the eminent Odia Poet Madhusudan Rao.

Lokanath Patnaik failed to pass the exam. Those days very few Odias cleared BA, so few eminent persons asked Mr. Rao - "Why did you do injustice to an Odia. As if you reinforced the notion of the Bengalis calling us uncouth and worthless fellows".

"Why not ?" - responsed the great Odia poet. "Loknath Patnaik had written some really ASHEELA (indecent) stuff here, you expect me to make his pass? " Poor Loknath simply quoted a stanza from Krushna Singh's MAHABHARAT :

SABHARE BASICHANTI KARPURAMALIA

GAN**TA TANKARA JESANE OLIA.

Roughly transliterated...

"Clad in camphor garlands

Assembed are the Extra large asses;

Resemble they to Spectra wide rice sacks."

Loknath Patnaik's goose was cooked, in spite of having a stupendous answer paper. But the memory of this episode and the sarcasm associated with it was funny and worthy enough to get a mention in the autobiography of this legend of Odisha.

TO BE CONTINUED, AS I READ 📖 FURTHER

Autobiography of Nilakantha Das - II

This is the 2nd in the series of recapitulation in my own words portions of Pandit Nilakantha Das's Biography in Odia....

A pre teen Nilakantha Das shifted to the temple town of Puri, the place closest to his village for studying in Middle School. While staying in a CHHATRABAS or Student's abode (also called Mess in the local lingo), it was essential to get a Brahmin cook, as the boarders won't eat food cooked by cooks from any caste other than a Brahmin. Finding cooks was the easier part, but retaining them over a longer period of time was a challenge. 

Luckily for them one cook stayed long enough to form a bond with the fellow boarders. Being a fellow SASANA BRAHMANA (from upper caste Brahmin dominated villages surrounding Puri), he was familiar with their needs and was never treated as a servant. A religious person, he religiously prepared frugal but freshly cooked hot meals for the kids befitting the occasions. The food was mostly Rice, Dal with boiled Eggplants (Brinjal)   interspersed with occasional fish, shrimp HALADI PANI (turmeric laced curry).

During exam nights, he would wake them up early in the morning, the best time to study, motivating them to focus, never forgetting to keep tab on the errant students who would escape to watch JHULANA JATRA (Swing Festival of Radha and Krishna), a popular religious fair in the town. "Do well in academics, you will succeed. So and so is a HAKIMA (big officer) now, for he studied hard. You should emulate him" - he would read the riot act, yet never going overboard.

But it was not in Nilakantha Das's fate to become a HAKIMA. Destiny had other things in store for him. Soon he came in touch with Gopabandhu Das, a locally well known charismatic figure, later famous as UTKALA MANI or the Jewel of Odisha. Along with his other friend Acharya Harihara, they would often travel to Gopabandhu's native village of SUANDO on the banks of river BHARGAVI to serve the local populace troubled by the recurring, frequent Cholera epidemics.

One evening the friends were sitting on a CHAANHA (a carpet to seat on, sewn from coconut leaves which is plentiful in that area) overlooking burning funeral pyres on the river bank at twilight hour. As they watched jackals fighting over half burnt cholera corpses, the friends promised to themselves - rather than going for government jobs, they should devote themselves to SAMAJ SEVA (Social service). 

No disease was as devastating and scourge among the people, as the dreaded Cholera was. The dysentery causing disease would create havoc, cause quick dehydration, killing in hundreds, often wiping out entire villages in matter of weeks. Nilakantha Das has vividly described the cholera epidemics of the year 1899, just after the famous RATH YATRA ( Chariot festival) in Puri. 100s of dead bodies were strewn around the famous BADA DANDA (the Broadway), the lifeline of Puri connecting to the temple. 

No one would ever dare to get close to BAADI MADA (the cholera carcasses) lying to rot on the road. The few HADIs or untouchables enlisted to clean would ply them on carts and dump them after digging mass graves on sallow, sandy soil closer to the sea. It was a common sight to see those left for dead often crawling out of the pits, begging for water as passerbys would avoid them - lest they earn the wrath of BAADI THAKURANI, the Goddess of Cholera.

Young Nilakantha's School was closed for 15 days. With nowhere to go, he started walking on the Jagannath SADAK (Highway) towards his village of Sri Ramachandrapur. The road of 6 miles was full of dead bodies, he counted 39 of them. The stench was unbearable. He saw a group of snarling jackels vying for a corpse, scavenging from whatever the meat left, already turned white from dehydration. This unforgettable scene was ghastly enough for him to mention in his autobiography.

Cholera was not the only epidemic of the time. The Calcutta - Puri train service was established in the year 1901. It brought many new things to the town, improving its economy. So also came a new disease in the form of Malaria, brought by the arrivals from Bengal. 

This hitherto unheard disease soon started spreading its tentacles in the city via female Anopheles mosquitoes. Nilakantha Das had its share, as he had a bout of Malaria and became extremely weak, but survived as destiny had more things in store for him.

TO BE CONTINUED, AS I READ 📖 FURTHER

Autobiography of Pandit Nilakantha Das - I

 Many thanks to my friend Dillip Babu who sent me a PDF copy of an autobiography - NILAKANTHA GRANTHABALI. Written in my mother tongue Odia it is a self Collection of memories of Pandit Nilakantha Das, a freedom fighter, social worker and reformer of early 20th century Odisha. 

A fascinating book which takes you on a time machine to Puri and its surrounding villages, a lot I could relate to, being originally from that area. Here are a few memorable excerpts of the book narrated in my own words....

Nilakantha Das was was born in 1884 in a village named Sri Ramachandralur, not far from the temple town of Puri. He was the product of his parent's desire for a male child, taking birth following his 7 sisters. 

His grandfather was a Tahsildar who died young at the age of 28, leaving his father in penury. (It was the practice those days to pay the tax to government from borrowed money in order to meet the deadline and collect it later. Unfortunately his grandpa died before the collection, so his property was auctioned away).

His father wanted him to succeed in academics. The young boy did not belied his dad's hope, being an outstanding student from childhood. Nilakantha Das's dad at 72 had a bad bout of cold and cough, during which he believed he had lived long enough at a time seeing 50th birthday was considered a luxury and won't survive the attack. Certain of dying, he took opium to relieve his pain and making his death painless. But he miraculously survived and lived till 89, a rare longevity those days.

It was pretty common for Children to die early, nearly half unable to make to double digit as fsr as their age goes. Most of them died as kids due to KRUMI (intestinal roundworms) though Hooping Cough, MILIMILA (chicken pox) and the ubiquitous Cholera had their share of toll.

Once Nilakantha had a bout of severe stomach ache which was a matter of concern for the parents of a son, their EKOIRABALA BISIKESANA (the one and only one) born after 7 girls. The villlage BAIDYA (quack) prescribed a BATIKA (tablet) to be taken with cockroach boiled water. His mother killed a dozen of them lurking around HANDI SALA (Cooking area) and boiled them in water, forcing the tablet down on the throat of the reluctant kid to be washed down with cockroached water. He started recovering from the next day.

After completing CHATASALI (Kindergarten) from his village, the boy Nilakantha Das went to middle school in Puri and housed himself in a students accommodation. He was happy to get a scholarship of Rs.4 per month - which in 1899 was a stupendous amount, considering a set of 10-15 tiger shrimps fresh caught from Bay of Bengal used to cost only 1 paisa, as they need to disposed off by the fishermen lest they get spoiled due to the tropical heat and humidity, in those days sans cold storage facilities.

Rice was not an issue in his MESS (local lingo for shared accommodation) as his father would make sure of its perennial supply is sustained  along with CHUDA (Parched rice) and GUDA (jaggery, the popular sweetener of the time) for breakfast. Rice was the staple food along and along with Brinjal boiled in Dal (lentil soup).

Fish was a luxury, though the scholarship enhanced its affordability. The extra money in pocket came as manna dew, as it lessened the burden on his NANAA (dad). The mess bill, struggling below 1 rupee, due to the BRUTI (scholarship) now shot up to Rs 1.90, a dream amount to spend as student, but butt of jealousy for their fellow villagers. 

(TO BE CONTINUED, AS I READ 📖 FURTHER)

Spring time in REC

Spring time brings back fond memories of "SPRINGFEST", a jamboree celebrating the arrival of the spring season at REC (now NIT) Rourkela. Semester exams over, the students were Engineered for fun. 

Weather in the steel city during end of February and early March was salubrious, neither hot nor cold. The mornings were cool, afternoons warm. The sun was warm while the air was cool, the perfect blend for festivities.

One of the major attractions in Spring Fest were female participants from outside. There was a saying during those days, God cursed Engineering girls to be plain looking (The Usual disclaimers apply and please don't shoot the messenger). 

A typical male student psychology, whenever we looked at a group of girls, our eyes used pry for a pretty face, often ending in disappointment. In the country of blind the one eyed woman can be queen. With few girls in Engineering Colleges those days, still fewer relatively better looking, some toon the advantage of turning into queen bees, attracting droves of boys towards them. Arrival of fresh faces from outside during the much awaited Spring fest, was considered as REGISTAAN MEIN BAARISH (Rainfall in the desert).

Still remember this funny incident. I was on the stage during the Quiz show, a popular item of Spring Fest conducted by O'Brien from Calcutta. (REC Rourkela was the only college to represent Odisha at the popular Siddharth Basu Quiz Time show on TV those days).

A car went to fetch our Quiz master from the Railway Station, but came back empty. We thought he gave the event a pass, scrambling for a last minute replacement. Suddenly the Quiz Master was stotted disembarking from a Rickshaw in front of AV Hall, the venue, bargaining for every Rupee he could save. We profusely apologized for missing him at the station. He wasn't amused, but nevertheless procceded to the stage.

One of his questions to the participants was "Which animal sleeps with one eye open and the other eye closed ?". No one on the stage could answer, following which the question was put to the esteemed audience. 

"So and so", some one shouted amidst the scores inside the Hall, uttering the name of one of our friends, known for his characteristic smile with one eye closed and the other eye open. The entire hall erupted with laughter. Our buddies from REC were creative, no doubt had great presence of mind with a greater sense of humor. 

The festivities concluded on the "Rock Show" night with hundreds engaged in bacchanalian twists and turns to the tune of the heavy metal music. Outside were drums of country liquor called BHATTI for those interested in some free liquor.

I was one of the volunteers assigned by our Cultural Secy to fetch it from a local hooch dealer at the junction of Sector-2 and Koel Nagar. No sooner we arrived, than the owner of the Hooch Store, a dark, burly guy with Walrus moustache jumped from his KHATIA (threaded bed).

He graciously offered us his samples in tin tumblers with big onion chunks sprinkled with salt and Bidi (locally made cigarette in India) as side dish. I took a sip of that fiery stuff, feeling it burning all the way down inside my food pipe reaching my stomach, clearing any doubts I had in my Biology class from my School days. My mouth was so bitter, I grabbed a bite of onion chunk laced with salt granules, snatched a Bidi from my friends hand, took a long drag to sooth my throat.

I always hated Bidi, but this time it was my savior. Then I took a big gulp, this time only water to wash down all the residual remnants of our DESI DAARU (country liquor), fomented at the local Rourkela Koel Nagar Distillery. 

Yet the elation of imbibing this premium Country stuff with friends, was no less than sipping any Premium Single Malt. Nothing has left such an imprint on my mind as much as the brand from Rourkela Distillery, graced with Chunks of salt laced onion. The drums were loaded on a trolley, we goaded it through our gate to the rock show venue.

Later in the night, it would act as the fuel propelling the Engines of the budding Engineers, as the Rock music concert commenced. The girls were giggling at our discomfiture, watching the proceedings safely ensconced within the locked gates over the 2nd floor overlooking the arena. They were the catalysts to the inebriated gyrating hips several feet underneath in the semi dark coliseum, a few throwing up the privacy of the darker corners.

Some, who were destined to collapse, would be dragged and loaded like sardines on top of the trolley. Drooling DAARU (alcohol) from their frothing mouth, with heads hanging downwards as the trolley trolls its way to the safety of the hostels. It would be the fitting finale to an occasion the students would be dreaming throughout the year.

Maichia Dukhei Sahoo

A few days back I posted an one liner - "Obedience of the bookish, good students from my generation has shifted from parents to wives". It was laconic, equivalent to the "Precis" we wrote during our intermediate college days (now Twitter is the modern equivalent of precis, restricted to 140 characters). 

Now it is time to convert the precis to an essay form (Facebook posts are modern counterpart of essays) - expand and elaborate my one liner. It is the ethos and pathos of the modern times, a test case of Human relationship which can be fragile unless handled with care. 

Nothing withstands the sands of time, certainly not relationships. I present the case of a brother duo, both academically brilliant and absolutely obedient to their parents. During my childhood days they were considered as Ram - Laxman duo (based on our epic Ramayan), epitome of sibling love. 

Everyone heaved paeans of praise on them. The siblings commanded immense respect and adulation in the neighborhood, worthy enough to emulate and idolize. But post marriage, it didn't take long for their obedience slowly shift to their wives, followed by relationship with their parents going bust. 

Far from Ram Laxman, now they were branded as the MAICHIA duo, which in Odia means effeminate, but usually alludes to the hubbies who have gone a complete transformation, a la from Caterpillar to Butterfly, now SAT PRATISHAD (100%) controlled by their wives. Roll reversed, playing "Maichia" they were more like modern day SITA devoted to their RAM like wives. They were the SATI BRATA PATI (the truthful hubbies), devoted SATYAVANs to their SAVITRIs.

The brothers still loved each other, but afraid to proclaim it in public, lest they earn their wives wrath. They blame the other one's wife for initiating the rivalry. It's a common occurrence these days - story line of many movies and soap operas. 

They say if your wife incessantly whispers vituperative thoughts against someone, spilling venom into your ear every day and night, sooner or later you will fall pray to it. As the poison percolates into your mind through the ears, one fine morning you wake up brainwashed, with a splitting headache and a reluctant desire to split from your family. 

Their parents are now mute spectator to the relationship turning sour, slowly drifting away like shifting sand in desert wind, on its way to lie ruined in the sands of time. The saying "A daughter is daughter all life, a son is a son until he gets his wife", stands never more vindicated these days.

One of my friends justified his forced hibernation at his inlaw's place in his Barhampuri (a local dialect) accented Odia - "FADRAA-IN-LAA (Father in law) GHARE BESI DINA RAHIBARA EKKA. SASHURA GHARA PARA SWARGAPUR HEY."

Another guy when confronted with accusations by his relatives as JORU KA GHULAM (the Slave of his wife) had this swift self defense, "I am proud to be the slave of my wife. But there are others who are slaves of others wives". Life is relative and full of relatives. He had no remorse as he drove his point.

Both drove their points equally well. As Lord Krishna (A Hindu God) said MAM EKAM SHARANAM BRAJA (surrender to Me). "If you can't fight them, join them" - can be the best policy.

This blog can't end without a mention of this well known Odia DHAGA (Adage) - 

MAICHIA DUKHEI SAHOO,

MAIPA HATARE KAHUNI KHAU.

Roughly transliterated...

The wife battered Effeminate John Doe

Perennially punched by his wife's elbow.

(Disclaimer - Any coincidence with any characters dead or alive is purely coincidental).

Why BJP won the election in UP - Election 2017

Results (soon to be followed by knives) are out in the just concluded Assembly elections in India. When everyone has an opinion about it, not to be left behind I scribbled mine, the 11,46,33,897th one on Social media. 

Held little after half way through the tenure of the current BJP led central government and months after the DeMo (Demonetization) move by NaMo (Narendra Modi) - the elections held in 5 States, which included the electorally crucial Uttar Pradesh, was billed as a benchmark of its performance and harbinger of things to come in the future.

The proof is in the pudding, as BJP's icing on the cake was its historic and spectacular victory in the State of UP, where 1/6th of India's population, close to the population of America live. It's rival Congress, the GOP (Grand Old Party) of India bit dust on the dusty cowbelt, with cow dung topping its cake.

The win can be ascribed to BJP changing its strategy with changing times, where as its rivals, especially the Congress still living in 19th century. It's not the India of 25 years ago. In a country with a huge, aspiring, young population with access to Smartphones and social media, the new generation doesn't buy old gamut of blatant caste and communal politics. 

The Harkishan Singh Surjit style of politics of "all secular parties joining their hands together to defeat communal BJP" no more holds good, so also stale Indira Gandhi kind of slogan Garibi Hatao (remove poverty). It is vindicated by BJP getting nearly 40% votes which would not have happened without a good chunk of support it got from the lower, backward castes, and minorities. 

The traditional naked pampering to the minorities by the non BJP parties is not futile, it backfires big time, in the form of backlash in the form of consolidation of votes behind the majority community. India is 85% Hindu and UP is 70%. A mere 5% of Hindu backlash can swing the election, and 10% can cause a landslide. The later happened.

It's not the local BJP leader K P Maurya or Yogi Adityanath who won the election in UP. It was Modi all the way, and he is not from UP, yet reinforcing my view that Modi has transformed himself to a pan Indian figure, a la Indira Gandhi in 1970s. 

A lot of credit should go to Amit Shah for his no nonsense approach towards aggressive micro targeting the voters and shaping the image of his boss as a man with a vision, who isnot afraid to take bold moves like demonetization. Politics is a matter of perception. Modi is regarded as a go getter, compared to his counterparts and his predecessor who presided over policy paralysis vis a vis Modi who is trying to get things done.

Not that Modi or BJP are perfect and free from lacunae. But the results are a tell-tale sign where the nation is heading to - a Congress Mukt (free) Bharat (India). It hasn't happened yet. A party at the helm of affairs for most of the 70 years post Independent India is well entrenched to be dislodged overnight. But the die has been cast, for a while the ball has been set rolling in that direction.

It's not just that Congress has been constantly facing one electoral debacle after another, it's the vacuousness shown by its leadership at the time of crisis. Sonia Gandhi, the Party's unquestionable leader is in USA right now, supposedly for medical check up. As they say - JAHAAJ JAB DUBTA HAI, TO PEHLE CHOOHE BHAGTE HAIN (Rats flee a sinking ship). Don't want to be rude, but if her days are numbered, then without her being not so young and Rahul Gandhi being forever young, Congress party will splinter. That won't be bad at all - my dream of a Congress Mukt (free) India will come true. Time for Rahul Gandhi to retire and start GHAR SANSAR leaving the party to its fate.

India is moving slowly towards a Presidential form of government in guise of Parliamentary democracy. But every democracy needs a viable opposition for doing checks and balances. In a future Congress Mukt Bharat, a credible opposition is the need of the hour. AAP (minus Kejriwal) can very well fit the bill. Otherwise, BJP may turn into another monster like Congress.

Now basking in a comforting majority in Lok Sabha, a win in the most populous state of UP and soon going to be in majority in Rajya Sabha, BJP has never seen better days. It has come a long way since with only 2 members elected to Lok Sabha in 1984, it was mocked as the party of HUM DO, HUMARE DO (Us two, our two), alluding to the famous Family Planning campaign those days to limit couples to only couple of kids.

A note of caution - nothing lasts forever. What goes around, comes around. A week is a long time in politics, a year can be eons. BJP should beef up its governance, not worry about who is eating beef. Then only they can be the beacon of a new India. Otherwise, it's going to be same old, shame old.

The day of the Phosphorous Jackal

One day our Chemistry teacher in College, Mr. Raghu Nath Panda was tutoring us how Phosphorus reacts after coming in contact with Oxygen, produces Phosphorous Pentoxide (P2O5), a glowing compound which emits illumination. 

I instantly remembered, how folks in our village were in awe at the sight of the unexplained faraway moving lights in the night, ascribing it to the local DAHANI (in Odia meaning witch) who walked upside down, using her hands as feet. 

We were fed on this shit of the DAHANI eating shit left by the villagers defecating on open fields. More shit - no one ever survived to see the face of a DAHANI, for a glance by the witch would result in the demise of the onlooker, caused by instant RAKTA BANTI (Blood Vomit).

But our teacher explained the myth behind this superstition. Jackals who roamed villages aplenty, would eat bones from carcasses which contains the element Phosphorus. It gets stuck to their teeth and so no sooner it comes in contact with atmospheric oxygen, than it forms the glowing P2O5. Every Jackal has his day, so also there used to be Night of the Jackal. 

But the saga of superstitions doesn't end there. The moving crawlies ruling the nights are not just limited to faece eating faces. Everybody was advised to stay indoors, safe from the legendary rolling ball of fire (called MAADALA), which loves to chase their victims to death.

No one has ever succeeded in out running a MAADALA. The best way to avoid death while being chased by this marauding juggernaut of fireball is not to allow it pass between your legs, failing which one is destined to vomit blood and die. 

There was nothing to confirm my skepticism, as I haven't encountered a single case case of someone dying from their wrath of DAHANI or MAADALA, accompanied by spasms of RAKTA BANTI (blood vomit). Or may be, dead men tell no tale.

RIP Rabi Ray

Rabi Ray, a highly respected politician from Odisha, prominent Socialist leader and ex-Speaker of the Lok Sabha (Parliament of India), passed away yesterday. He was 91.

It was the year 1984 when I first came to know about him. That was the time when the teenager in me started taking an avid interest in politics. The Parliamentary Election that year was the first major election I was following keenly. Those days the the voting age was still 21 years in India. There was no electronic voting, though it was tried on an experimental basis in a handful of booths in Kerala.

In the run up to the Lok Sabha elections that year, Indira Gandhi was the Prime minister of India. An iconic figure in India at that time, she was akin to Narendra Modi - there was no one close to her stature at national level. All we had a bunch of faddists and obscurantist leaders in a fragmented opposition. Though she made fiasco of in Punjab leading to Operation Blue Stat, her Congress Party was expected to be re-elected, albeit in a lesser margin.

The legendary Biju Patnaik, who was the sole non Congress MP from Odisha, was expected to get re-elected hands down, unlike in 1980 when he barely scarped through. Other opposition leaders like Rabi Ray were expected to win easily, with the opposition all set to improve its tally in the state of Odisha, mostly due to the misule of Congress in the state.

But the tragic assassination of Indira Gandhi barely couple of months before the elections changed the dynamics. Those days manual counting of votes would start in the morning but continue late into night, with the one Channel Television, named Doordarshan, showing Bollywood movies interspersed with election results and trends.  

The fate of opposition stalwarts of Odisha, Biju Patnaik and Rabi Ray would go sinusoidal, toing and froing between leading and training between the movies shown on TV. At one point they would be leading by 1000 votes, to trail by 1500 votes one movie later, again to lead by 1200 votes after the end of another movie. Finally Biju Patnaik managed to scrape through by a few thousand votes from his home turf of Kendrapada.

Rabi Ray lost his Jagatsinghpur constituency by 1000 odd votes to his tainted rival Laxman Mullick, who was accused of shielding the perpetrators of an heinous crime involving the rape and murder of Chhabirani, the wife of a local journalist. It was an extremely narrow margin to lose a Lok Sabha seat. The sympathy wave due to Indira Gandhi's assassination stalled what could have been a cakewalk for him.

Indira dead proved more powerful than Indira alive. The opposition was decimated in every state, exept Bengal and Andhra. BJP with only 2 members elected to Lok Sabha was mocked as a party of HUM DO, HUMARE DO (Us two, our two), alluding to the famous Family Planning campaign those days to limit couples to only couple of kids to arrest the explosive growth of population.

Rabi Ray made a spectacular comeback in 1989, winning easily in an election I remember for voting first time in my life, as the voting age was reduced to 18. His experience and stature was rewarded, as he was made the speaker of the Lok Sabha in the short lived V P Singh led government.

I lost track of him after that, but not my respect for him. He was one of the rare breeds, from the generation of genuine socialist leaders in the mould of Jayprakash Narain, arguably was last of his kind to walk on the surface of earth RIP, Mr. Rabi Ray.

Turning once weaknesses into Strength

What is the similarities between Naveen Patnaik, the Chief Minister of Odisha, Donald Trump (needs no introduction) and the current Australian cricket team visiting India ? Their uncanny ability to convert their weekness to strength.

The Chief Minister of Odisha doesn't speak Odia. At best be has minimal knowledge of the language. Many call it his weakness and predicted that his inability to speak the local language would be detrimental to his survival. Considered a novice in politics, he was expected to be trampled by his more politically savvy opponents.

Eventually he proved his detractors wrong. His lack of understanding the local language and aloofness from public was instrumental in surrounding him with a mystic aura - avoiding an over exposure to a milieu known for their obsequiousess and overwhelming feeling of reverence towards outsiders. He outsmarted, outlived and outfoxed all, all set now to complete two decades in power.

The Australian cricket team currently touring India was considered weak and vulnerable against spin bowling. But their dual weaknesses of lack of home advantage and spinners who are considered as tyros turned into strength, as they turned the tables in a turning pitch on their more fancied opponents, making them bite the dust. The visitors batted to potential, bowled accurately and took brilliant catches, catching the home team off guard. They simply converted their weakness to strength to eke out a memorable victory.

In the last US Presidential election the wily fox Hillary was caught flummoxed like the animal in front of headlights, when her opponent Donald Trump crashed her White House dream. Trump's weakness of being an Washington outsider, who is not a politician worked for him and trumped over a stale Hillary from the same old political establishment. 

Trump was successfull in channelizing his weakness to his strength, his image of an outsider who is not a politician (people look at politicians with cynicism these days) upped his ante with the common Americans. Rest we know is history.

And history stands testimony to myriad such instances of turning weaknesses into strength, listing all of them is beyond the scope of the blog. But success lies in using the weakness effectively to turn the tide, which makes these individuals or groups rise above and beyond the rest.

The curious caseof Gurmehar Kaur

The curious case of Gurmehar Kaur. No one outside the Social Media knew about her a week ago, any one who isn't linked to media probably don't know have an iota of clue about her.

In a short period of time, she has gained a celebrity in her own rights and we, the people, have contributed to that. She is the daughter of an Army Officer who was Killed in Action while fighting against terrorists (No offence, but I chose the word killed instead of the more patriotic sounding word "martyr". The choice of words is matter of personal choice, so using "killed" instead of "martyr" doesn't make one less patriotic, nor it is any kinda vilification of a soldier. Killed in Action is a term officially used by nations known for patriotism and no one raises an eyebrow).

It all started when the girl studying in Delhi University posted a picture on social media, holding a placard "Pakistan didn't kill my father, War did". We might agree to disagree on her action, but our Constitution guarantees her right to Freedom of expression on a social platform.

Soon she was trolled, several of them by celebrities, including the retired cricketer Virendra Shehwag. She was accused by many of misrepresentation of facts, spreading fake news. The girl probably threw a bait, and others readily took it. 

No one might care about my blog, but if Donald Trump comments on it, it makes me a celebrity. Same as an ordinary piece of iron gets magnetic in contact with a strong magnet, the high prifile trollers have magnetized her and her supporters.

In the summer of 1990, V P Singh, the then Prime minister of India forced moribund "Mandal Commission" on the nation. It was followed by widespread protests by students. Many student set themselves on fire. Those who died were eventually forgotten. Some of those survived got elected to Student Union bodies, a stepping stone to political career.

Has she planned this from beginning to launch a political career ? Or may be her innocuous protest to get some attention was blown out of propertion by trollers, forcing her to bite more than she can chew. We don't know, as myriad views on her are partisan, depending on the Left or Right side of the Isle. But what we know - her detractors might have played into her hands, handing her a celebrity status, crashing her into the limelight, inadvertently or otherwise.

20 years old is the ripe age to shape one's career. She is pretty well known now and she is pretty, a perfect media sales pitch, both mainstream and social. Media is already helping her brand. Win or lose - she can cherish her newly aquired brand status while it lasts, because nothing lasts forever.