A night of full moon

 Today being the Lunar eclipse night I went out to see the blood moon as predicted. Alas, on the semi cloudy, full moon night I could barely see the moon, but was awed by staring at several sparkling stars on the western horizon. I could see on the crispy fall night couple of airplanes high on the sky were looking like walking stars on the dark sky amidst a plethora of stars, big and small, bright and pale.

The stars looked like tall, beautiful fairies in some distance land, smiling, probing the sky, savoring the beauty of the cool weather beneath, showering their "MUKTA JHARA HASA", a la thousands of pearls sparkling on their lips, smiling at us mere mortals below. I was immediately reminded of this stanza from this Kishore & Lata duet from the 1970s Hindi movie "MEHBOOBA" about a lover and his beloved -

"TAARON KI SAATH WOH 

JAGTE HAIN RAAT KO,

JHARNON HI SAAT BEHTE HAIN"...

Roughly transliterated...

"They awake in the night amidst the stars,

Flow together along with the streams".

All my romantic thoughts were brutally, rudely interrupted, coming to standstill as a moon headed guy came walking his dog and walking past my driveway, waving his hands at me. The white doggy with his conspicuous rock and roll walk was looking golden under the neon lights on the street, trying to keep pace with the man as the guy's bald head acted like a convex mirror reflecting the street lamp.

The blood moon was still elusive, partially visible, still playing hide and seek in the floating cloud, shy behind the gargantuan looking pine trees in the dark. I was reminded of another Bollywood song :

"CHAND CHUPA BADAL MEIN 

SHARMA KE MERI JANAA;

SEENE SE LAG JAA TU,

BALKHA KE MERI JANAA".

Transliterated into English.

"Moon is hiding behind the clouds,

Feeling shy, my love;

Come close to my heart".

Finally the moon suddenly showed up out of the veneer of bluish, fleece like clouds like out of the blue a pretty Iranian girl took out her veil in a soccer match I saw a while back

WOH ACHANAK A GAYEE

YOON NAZAR KE SAMNE,

JAISE NIKAL AYEE

GHATA SE CHAAND...

Transliterated from Hindi.

"She suddenly arrives

 In front of my eyes;

 Bolstering my mood

 as moon ventures out of cloud".

It finally made my day, rather the night of moon watching on a full moon night. 

Teachers Day 2025

Today is TEACHER's Day, all other brands are prohibited. (Teachers is a popular brand of Scotch). Joke apart, I salute to all my teachers who have made a huge difference in my life by shaping my knowledge and character. It is not just limited to my teachers in school and college. My parents were my first teachers. Then came some friends, relatives, acquaintances as teachers in various forms at different stages in my life. There is always something to learn from every human being, a prince or a pauper, a beggar or a sorcerer, an animal or an inanimate object. Life is the biggest teacher. 

A good movie can be a good teacher too. In the iconic movie 3 IDIOTs, on the Teacher's Day of 5 September, the character Chatur Ramalingam goes on stage to recite a Sanskrit Sloka (hymn) eulogizing the teachers of his college. He rotes the Sloka by memory, without understanding a single word of it, nor caring about its content, without realizing that the original speech was altered by a playful and witty Rancho (played by Aamir Khan). As Chatur on the stage was about to vomit the Sloka he rote from what Rancho wrote, the later told his friends to get ready to hear a sermon about the former's farting prowess. Chatur recites:

UTTAMAM GAD GADATA PADAM,
MADHYAM PADAM TUCHAK TUCHAK;
THUR THURIYA KANISTAM PADAM,
SUR SURIYA PRANA GHATAKAM.

Roughly transliterated...

"Loud farts are majestically thundering;
Medium farts come along stuttering,
Small Farts arrive whisteling & sirening;
The silent ones can be life threatening."

As the crowd goes berserk rupturing with laughter and poor Chatur gets kicked out of the stage, Racho's dark humor taught us another lesson in academics - Knowledge acquired through roting sans understanding may earn you a Degree, but will take you nowhere. My father always emphasized on learning through understanding rather than roting.

Decades ago there was this incident, when a sub-collector in Sonepur district of Odisha did this shameful, cowardly act of kicking a hapless school teacher, abusing him as a poor MASTRA (the way the word master is often pronounced in Odia, a term mostly used in derogatory sense for teachers back home). 

I remember a cartoon related to the above incident which came out on the local vernacular Newspaper with the following caption, (rhyming with our famous Sloka "GURU BRAHMA GURU BISHNU... "

GURU DEENA GURU HEENA
GURU SAMANYA MASTARA;
KANDOOKA SAMAN GURU
TASME SRHEE GOITHA MARA
ITI UPA- COLLECTOR
JILLA NAMA SONAPUR.

Transliterating in the same rhyme form to keep the theme intact,

"Teacher is poor, Teacher is mere;
Teacher is just an ordinary Master.
Teacher is akin to a football;
To be kicked for sure.
Courtesy Sub-Collector,
From the district of Sonepur."

I have heard parents asking in Odia to their children "KIRE MASTRA AJI KANA PADHEILA" meaning "Hey, what did the master teach you today". The English transliteration may not sound so bad but the way it is delivered in the native language is not a sign of great adulation. It shows the respect they the guardians give to their teachers.

My simple take - A society which does not respect its teachers, can never  prosper. Period. Great nations are made by great men. Great men (and women) are shaped by their teachers. HAPPY TEACHER'S DAY to all.

Uttam Kumar - the legend

Today, September 3, is the birthday of Bengali actor Uttam Kumar. Many girls confide that he is the only Bengali man they ever had a crush on and could have readily married him as women of that era swooned over him. The man had grace, style and a killer smile. It is said that talented artists are "Gandharvas" reborn who live for a small time, but leave early leaving their mark. He died early too, a week before the death of legendary singer Mohammed Rafi. Both were of the same age.

Uttam Kumar’s death at a young age of 53 brought Calcutta to standstill on July 24, 1980. The Bengali hero of all ages was a natural actor who won over generations with his charm and persistence. After getting symptoms of a heart attack he drove himself to a clinic in Calcutta where he was attended by a team of cardiologists. But he died the next day in spite of the best effort of the doctors to save him, stunning the entire state of Bengal and nation.

Sharing a small incident of his life which stands testimony of his polularity and his stature as "Mahanayak" or the mega Star by his fans. Sometime in May 1966, the famous director Satyajit Ray called Uttam Kumar - “Uttam, my movie 'Nayak' premieres tomorrow at Indira Cinema. I hope you will be there".

"But Manikda (the nickname of Satyajit Ray in movie industry), the press and public will be in attendance. Do you think I should go? There possibly will be pandemonium,” he replied.

“Uttam, don’t forget it is a Satyajit Ray film (movie is also widely called as film in India, especially in Odisha and Bengal, the two states bear a lot of resemblance in language and culture). Please be there,” - Satyajit Ray commanded. It wasn't easy to say no to Manikda, even for a man of superstar status. Uttam Kumar relented, though reluctantly.

The next day, the news of Uttam Kumar’s appearance at the cinema house spread like wildfire and all the hell broke loose. By late afternoon, roads leading to Bhowanipore in Calcutta had to be barricaded. Uttam's car (probably a Chevrolet Impala) was piloted through the bylanes. The theatre was shaking under the weight of uproarious chanting, ‘Guru, Guru’ (Uttam's nick name given by his fans) with demands to see the Star. 

The hall manager rushed to Ray. “Sir, if we don’t bring him up on stage there will be a serious law-and-order issue.” 

Minutes later, the lights came on and Uttam Kumar was seen standing on the platform in front of the screen. He raised his hand. The crowd fell silent, as if by the waving of a magic wand. “I request you to please be silent and watch the film. Don’t forget it is a Satyajit Ray film.”

This story, a piquant testimonial to two of Bengal’s foremost immortals, is probably apocryphal. But that takes nothing away from what this tale protrays, which testifies two stalwarts in 1966 – from Ray’s sway over his cast, the pliant theatre manager and finally the phenomenal stardom of Uttam Kumar. In some ways, this story encapsulates the fantasy that was Bengali cinema. But as is known, it is not Ray who colonised that cinema, either as fantasy or as commerce. It was Uttam Kumar, and the one and only Uttam Kumar. Happy Birthday to the Mahanayak who if alive would have been 98 today.

Ides of August

August, one of the longest months of the dog days of summer finally coming to an end. This month has been hot, humid. It has seen devastating floods and lots of political heat in the Indian subcontinent, its two prominent nations who were partitioned this month celebrated their 78th birthday and 78 years of separation. US President Trump who imposed a  hefty tariff on goods from India keeps Indian subcontinent in news by claiming to have brokered the ceasefire during their short lived conflict few months ago. keeping it as a flashpoint of nuclear conflict still in the news. India's bette noire Pakistan as usual is basking in all the attention it is getting. Asim Munir, the Chief of Pakistan's all powerful Army is pulling all strings and basking in the limelight he is getting from the American President. In contrast, the otherwise self proclaimed self confident government of India is following a confused foreign policy like a fox caught in front of headlight and running like a headless chicken. Its blabbermouth supporters akin to frogs inside a well and a la Ostriches with their heads dug inside the desert sand, churning out one nonsense - the same way I churn out my nonsense blogs on daily basis.

August has been a disturbing month for our Western frontier neighbor. It is this month of August Imran Khan, Pakistan's better known Alpha male, playboy Cricketer who has a history of bedding a number of lasses and producing at least one bastard child from his groin was coronated as the country's Prime Minister few years ago. his month also saw with the 37th Anniversary of the death of another all powerful Army man and ex-President of Pakistan who once successfully persuaded the charismatic, cricketer Imran Khan to reverse his decision to retire from cricket after the 1987 world cup. Imran's comeback resulted in him leading Pakistan to win the Cricket world cup only time in history in the 1992 version of the Cup. That  President was General Zia Ul Haq. 

For Pakistan it would be the case of "The Ides Of August". It reminds me of one muggy day in August many monsoons ago in year 1988 when inside my hostel room in NIT (then REC), Rourkela BBC radio broke the Breaking News. It was the death of Pakistani President Zia Ul Haq in a plane crash. I also remember many of us ragging our juniors by forcing them to dance to celebrate the death of India's bete noire Zia-Ul-Haq whom the Indians loved to hate. At the same time I heard from a friend from our counterpart REC in Srinagar, J&K about the Muslim dominated College campus mourning the untimely death of the Pakistani leader. He said - "UDHAR ZIA KE SAMARTHAK SAALE NAACH RAHE THE JAISE UNKA BAAP MAR GAYA", roughly transliterated - "Those guys whose sisters I seduce were mourning as if their dads died". (Sala means wife's brother but in this context it means I am the seducer of the sister of whomsoever at the receiving end).

Zia was a diminutive soldier and a shrewd strategist. His regime would shape the politics of the subcontinent for long time to come. He set the stepping stone to keep its rival India in check by getting his country nuclear and bleeding India in Kashmir and Punjab. He once reportedly said referring to his support to Sikh terrorism - "Keep the water boiling just enough to the right temperature, so that it doesn't spill over but simmers enough to give our enemy, aka India a hard time". Hard time he did gave to India - so much so that he emboldened the Pakistani secret service ISI enough to subsequently stage spectacular attacks after attacks inside India, successfully protraying India over time as a clueless weak state.

Born in India, educated in St. Stephens College, Delhi Zia migrated to Pakistan where he rose his way up in the Army. He was a frail man with a short height, but a master strategist. He was lucky to be recruited by the British Indian Army as Officers were is shortage towards the end of World War II. Promotions were hard to come by until fortune favored him after Bhutto became Prime Minister of Pakistan. Bhutto trusted Zia against the advices of his close confidants,  as he thought his diminutive Army Chief as harmless and malleable, as the later was always obsequious to the Prime minister. Bhutto promoted Zia making him the Army Chief superseding others.

Bhutto used to poke fun at Zia by calling him our "Monkey General" in front of the foreign dignitaries, alluding to the later's short stature and long protruding teeth. Zia would always respond with his inscrutable smile. But these innocuous teeth would later become fangs with a vengeance, delivering a venomous bite to Bhutto as the "monkey general" had his last laugh by dislodging the PM in a military coup and hanging him in less than couple of years of ascending power. It is said he ordered Bhutto's genitals to be checked post hanging to ensure that the ex Prime Minister wasn't a closeted Hindu, a prevalent rumor in Pakistan.

It's said that Zia was a champion conversationalist. He would call his contemporary Indian Prime minister Morarjee Desai and flatter him by asking the formers view on benefits of drinking urine (Desai used to drink his own urine first thing in morning). Soon our first PM from Gujarat was conferred "Nishan-e- Pakistan", their highest civilian award. God knows what transpired between them but I am sure the cunning Zia didn't give Pakistan's highest award to the Prime Minister of their sworn enemy country for the Desai's sermon on Urine therapy.

An alumni of St. Stephens College Delhi,  he once invited a delegation of its ex-students, fed them well and gave them free luxury rides across the scenic and historic sites of Pakistan. The entire team, a member of which was K Natwar Singh would heap paeans of praise about Zia's hospitality. At the same time he pushed terrorists into Punjab and Kashmir. This Pakistani general proved himself a master Jekyll and Hyde personality.

Pakistan is a nation where Allah, Army and America rule. General was a staunch Mullah who permanently veered Pakistan towards fundamentalism. In the movie CHARLIE WILSON's WAR based on the Soviets involvement in Afghanistan actor Tom Hanks who plays the role of the Texan Congressman arrives in Pakistan and immediately proceeds to meet Zia. After meeting he asks for "Bourbon on the Rocks", eager to unwind a long travel from United States. 

He was bluntly told that alcohol is not served in the Presidential Palace and he has to shift to a hotel or American Embassy which is usually stuffed with alcohol to have his desire fulfilled. In another scene when the Congressman asks Zia (played by Om Puri) if any legislative approval is needed to supply weapons to the Mujahideens Zia retorted back - "I am the Constitution and my words are Law". He sure was. Had he survived assassination he could have hung all of Pakistan military's top brass if he suspected them of involvement.

He allowed Pakistan as a conduit for the Americans to supply shoulder fired missiles (ironically one of the experts in firing them was Osama Bin Laden). Those weapons each costing $50,000 brought down Soviet military aircrafts which cost millions. The financial loss was devastating for the Soviets already toiling under a bad drought and down spiraling economy. The mighty USSR was brought to its knees so much so that during Breznev's funeral they approached Zia for a face saver exit. But the shrewd Zia knew on which side the the wind was blowing and kept quite.  Rest we know is history.

Nothing lasts forever. The all powerful Zia's more than a decade of power came to an abrupt end as he died in a mysterious plane crash. It's rumored that KGB took him out as a revenge on him for openly siding with America in their Afghanistan imbroglio, bringing the Soviets to their knees. Only Allah knows the truth about Zia's death. Asim Munir should learn something from history and beware of the Ides of August as he steers his country through these turbulent times - his nation facing floods, bankruptcy although he has managed by make Trump dance to his tune, at least for now. 

The Day I of 50% tariff

 So, the 50% tariff on India went off the blocks starting today. All major markets in the world who were watching this closely went through a major sell off, including the New York Stock exchange. Pressure was mounting on Trump administration to come down to a negotiated settlement with India and reduce the tariff to a manageable level.

Nothing of that sort happened. I just woke from my midsummer daydream, getting up startled. However, something close to my dream happened not long ago, but not with regard to India, but China when Trump announced tariffs against China. The Dow Jones and Nasdaq were on free fall. When China sneezes USA catches the cold, when China farts, the whole world can smell it. Sensex in India has made some major loss today while it was a normal trading day in the Wall Street. It yet vindicates that Mumbai isn't Sanghai, China has already moved 50 years ahead of us. We missed the manufacturing bus in 1978 when China ran with it. Now our "Make in India" move is a classic case of too little, too little. Even if we get closer to China some time in future, our generation won't be there to see it.

Today, the beginning of 50% tariff imposed on Indian exports to America negates a steady and healthy relationship between India and United States built-up over 25 years, going poof in a period of 6 months. It is a classic enacting of the popular Odia Adage - "BAARA BARSA RA TAPASYA SUKHUA PODA RE GALA", transliterated, "Twelve years of penance has been swept away by consuming barbecued dry fish". It simply means, down the time travelled road all the accumulated efforts and perseverance in creating the image of India as a powerful, emerging economy, a vibrant, aspiring middle class, a burgeoning global powerhouse - all stand decimated by a single stroke of multiple events in sequence. Like the story of the monkey on a bamboo pole, we climb one foot on the Indo-US development ladder, only to be brought down by couple of feet - now back to square one.

The relationship between India and USA has been on a steep decline ever since India fought a 4 day, inconclusive war with Pakistan on the aftermath of the heinous, cold blooded killing of tourists in Pahalgam, before agreeing to a ceasefire. It nose dived further with India's attempt to demonstrate its superiority over Pakistan didn't yield the intended result, but backfired with downing of an unclear number of Indian fighter jets in the dog fight. Despite bravado Pakistan had its share of heavy losses, so had no interest in a long protracted fight. It readily took the exit ramp by agreeing to ceasefire and giving the credit to the US. But India didn't do so for two reasons. One, it would have impacted the 56" strongman image of Prime Minister Modi, senting a wrong message to electorates in the upcoming crucial election in the state Bihar. Two, it will internationalize the Kashmir issue which India has succintly avoided for decades.

However, India ended up earning Trump's wrath who wanted to bask in the glory of ending the war and thought India denied him that right. The Chief of Pakistan's all powerful Army, Chief Munir displayed consistency in his strategic outlook and messaging where India spectacularly failed. Not sure how long the bromance between Trump and Munir will last knowing the former's mercurial tantrums, the so called brotherly bonhomie and love between Modi and Trump fantasized by Indian PM's followers didn't last very long. Modi's supporters ever since are behaving like jilted lovers.

For now, the score is Pakistan - 1, India - 0. Pakistan's Army Chief Munir yet vindicated that crass opportunism and pragmatism displayed by grabbing the right moment at the right time with substantive diplomatic engagement works better than hugs, scripted events which are good for optics but yield nothing concrete. Foreign policy isn't done in media glare. If we couldn't see this coming given the fickle nature of Trump, then we have ourselves to blame for miscalculation.

It is reported that in recent past Trump has called Modi 4 times with the later refusing to take the call. Many Modi supporters are elated see this snobbing as the expansion of 56 inch chest of their leader. They should understand this is not a fight over a piece of land between the villages of Kapileswar and Sundarpada in Bhubaneswar, where one village Sarpanch gloats over the rejection of any overture of his counterpart from other. Foreign policy is much complicated and nuanced. It is an extension of one's national interest, done best away from media - social or otherwise.

We did a lot of Puja and Yagna (worship) back home, praying for Trump's victory expecting him to be more friendly towards India. Last April when I was in India our neighborhood "Kirana" (grocery) store owner told me - "TRAWMPAW ASILE AMA DESHA PAI BHALA. Pakistan UPARE BOMA PAKEIBA (Trump is going to be good for our country. He is going to bomb Pakistan). He must be a sad man. As Puja and Yagna didn't work, may be bringing a Tantrik to so some "Jaadu Tona" (black magic) on Trump could change his mind in the future. Foreign policy and international relationships aren't T20 cricket matches, it's a long drawn Test Series where fortune swings like pendulum.

Happy Birthday Mother Teresa

 I lived in Calcutta, a metropolitan city on East coast of India in the mid 1990s. One day I happened to see a leper whose almost entire torso was covered in wounds filled with yellowish-white pus oozing out of them. Let's face it - on his face flies swarmed around, feasting on his entire body from his head to toe.

I was too scared to stare, soon turned away my head and turned my back on this helpless guy. Engraved in memory, that abominable sight still refuses to go away. I feel short of kudos for those who shelter them and nurse their wound. MOTHER TERESA was one such person.

She has admirers and critics. I belong to the former category. In this age of 24×7 media, social or otherwise, it's imperative for the folks at the helm of affairs, to be judicious in what they say. We are a free country. There is no harm in being a critic of Mother Teresa or anyone else for that matter. Our Constitution does allow its citizenry to freely express their thoughts and practice their religion. If Mother Teresa or anyone else tried to convert within the parameters of state law, nothing prevents them to do so.

Christian missionaries do convert but they do some real good work of charity. My cousin was once the SP, Police in a remote district of Chattisgarh. He narrated me his AANKHON DEKHA HAAL (First Hand Information) of a densely forested area which was under his supervision to maintain Law and Order. Most part of that district was remote and totally inaccessible, evenly infested with Maoists and Mosquitoes who can carry you for miles. (He incidentally was infected with cerebral malaria and luckily survived). The district administration was virtually non-existent. Only folks who treaded inside and tend to the tribals were the local Christian Missionaries. They provided them food, shelter, education and healthcare. They did where our government spectacularly failed to do - to provide the basic necessities and governance to public.

If I am suffering from hunger and shivering from malaria, it may not take me long to prefer Jesus over Ram or Rahim if the need arises. We have a saying in Sanskrit, BUBHUKHITAM KIM NAKAROTI PAPAM (Why a hungry mouth will not commit a crime). In 1970s an Airliner carrying an Uruguay Rugby team crash landed on the Andes mountains. Without food for many days some players turned cannibals, did not think twice before eating the flesh of their dead fellow mates and attempting to kill live ones. It is also rumored that in the late 1950s and early 1960s China was so impoverished that cannibalism was reported. (It's is another matter China has come a long way since). Hence, in comparison, if we step into their shoes changing one's religion would be a walk in the park. If the missionaries take the gullible tribals for a ride, the fault lies in the system. They just take advantage of a failed system. As water turns to ice under right temperature and pressure, as long as poverty and hunger remains, Jesus could triumph over Ram and Rahim under right circumstances.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY (August 26) to Mother Teresa. The sick and destitute whom you whole heartedly served and the whole world forever will be indebted to you. You truly earned your Nobel prize for peace.

Stockholm syndrome

 Exactly 52 years ago, on August 23, 1973 a group of people were taken hostages in a bank in Stockholm, Sweden by Jan Erik Olsson - high on drugs and holding a gun. The world has seen several hostage dramas before and after this event. But what makes this one uniquely different is the hostages developing an emotional bond with their captors giving birth to a new phrase called  "Stockholm Syndrome".

The whole hostage drama got wide television coverage. The entire Sweden was glued to the TV round the clock. The audience were surprised when one of the girls taken hostage while talking to the authorities over phone started defending her captor. She had already developed a huge crush on her hostage taker who was a charismatic speaker and humored her by telling stories and playing Checkers. The drama ended on day six when police sprayed gas into the bank, forcing the culprit to surrender, freeing the hostages and ending the crisis. But the "Stockholm syndrome"  never ended and stuck around like a chewing gum stuck to your pants, refusing to go. It still continues unabated in many places, in various forms.

I have seen some of my college mates idolizing those professors who harassed them to no end, going an extra yard to eulogizing them, both before and after their demise. I am a son of a professor and I have ultimate respect for teaching profession. But needless harassing of young minds isn't something to be eulogized. It's Okay to admire the good things about our teachers, but to my surprise I have seen many victims of harassment needlessly going a long way harboring "Stockholm syndrome" towards them. The famous writer Khushwant Singh who didn't spare any one including himself once wrote - "A person doesn't become better after his or her death". He never spared anyone in his eulogy, he didn’t even spare himself when he wrote an self eulogy years before he passed away.

Coming from a feudal society, I heard folks eulogizing Babus (Bureaucrats), often smitten by them and the power they wield. It is not unusual to see victims at the receiving end of the Babus in Odisha saying -"ARRE SEY IAS OFFICER PEE KI BADEILA" (So and So IAS officer got drunk and beat some hapless folks). As if getting drunk and beating innocents by taking law into their own hands and taking advantage of their position is something praiseworthy. I know many who are forever stuck like glue to their marriages with "Stockholm syndrome" in spite of being in an abusive relationship. Once a girl confided to me about her abusive relationship from a perennially cheating husband. When I questioned her compulsion of clinging to marriage and being stuck to a toxic relationship, her response was reminding me the title of a Hindi song -

"BHALA HAI BURA HAI, JAISE BHI HAI.
MERA PATI MERA DEVTA HAI".

Roughly transliterated,

"Good, Bad or Ugly, Wherever he stands.
After all, he is my husband".

We see lots of examples of the "Stockholm syndrome" in real life. Psychologically many of us tend to sympathize with our perpetrators. Part of it is due to our inferiority complex which makes us see them as stronger persons doing things which we aspire to do but can't due to various reasons - it could be lack of courage, the societal pressure etc etc. We get a vicarious pleasure by seeing our wishes replicated by someone else. What happens then is a perfect example of - "if you can't beat them, join them". More than 50 years since we are stuck with the "Stockholm syndrome" forever.

A shocking encounter

 One of my friends and my senior in REC (Now NIT) Rourkela who is presently in a very high position in one of the most prestigious Institutes of Technology, narrated this funny episode which also reminds me of a scene from the epic movie "3 IDIOTS".

Hailed from a village in Odisha, there was no electricity in his village until he was in Class VII (7th Grade). When he was in Class III (3rd Grade) his father gave him a flashlight (torch) bulb and two batteries to play with. My friend used to enjoy lighting the tiny bulb. Slowly he graduated to tuning into the local radio station by connecting crystal to telephone. These activities provided him with an affinity towards Electrical Engineering from his childhood.

After his village came under electrification he started playing with electrical equipments and got used to the terms like phase, neutral, earthing etc. He noticed that many were making connections from phase to earthing to light incandescent bulbs. In addition, they used to conduct electricity through a big iron rod (called SABALA in local parlance) coating it with salt. So in order to carry further his experiment with electricity, my friend connected a bulb to the wire on the phase side and connected the other end of the wire to the ground. The bulb didn't emit any light. Then someone advised him to pee on the earthing so that the saline water will make it glow. Well, the bulb certainly lighted, but my friend got a lightening shock of his life and till this day considers himself lucky to see another day.

Happy Independence day to India

 A history of thousands years, an advanced civilization counted amongst the oldest of the old. An enchanting land of sages and the sagacious. Cradle of Eastern mysticism from which emanated some of the major religions now spread all over the world. A land of sages and ages of culture and traditions, opulence in art, literature and classical languages and music.

Hinduism, also called Sanatana Dharma, the oldest religion in universe, is the foremost among them. Buddhism was another religion which originated from India several years before Christ or Prophet Mohammed were born, subsequently spreaded south and far east, as far as China and Japan. So also Jainism, a religion which surfaced before the time of Gautam Buddha from the same exotic land and still in practice.

For centuries India was the El Dorado, rich and the land of opportunity during the medieval age. Its tales of riches attracted travellers, traders and invaders from rest of the world. Columbus, the legendary Spanish explorer died a frustrated man, for he was not able to discover his dreamland called India - considered the land of milk and honey. He died a forlorn man, forced to stay  content at discovering a chain of Islands called "West Indies", his consolation prize for failing to discover India.

Eventually and unfortunately, India lost its freedom and wealth to myriads of invaders - from Alexander to Afghans, from Turks to Persians, from Mughal to British. Many invaders from outside exploited India economically and politically, some looted and returned, some stayed back to rule us until we met our tryst with destiny on August 15,1947 when we finally got our independence. That's India, my motherland.

Since we gained our freedom and became a Democratic Republic, we haven't done a whole lot of justice to our immense potential. Very few nations can boast of abundance in natural resources, lushy green fertile lands, a wide variety of flora and fauna (India is the only country which has both Tigers and Lions, Africa which has varieties of wildlife doesn't have tigers). It got a diverse biosphere and a strong, talented workforce of English educated middle class. India has been a caged tiger, who needs to be unleashed to go for the kill.

I am tempted to lift these few lines from a popular Odia song LE NAVEENA from the year 1981. (Naveena here depicts the typical down to earth Odia guy, no relation to any person bearing the same name).

LE NAVEENA TIKE PACHAKU ANA,
HATHE BADI DHARI THIA BAPUJI NANA,
BAPUJI BUDHA RA AAKHI RE LUHA,
TA RAMA JAIJE AAJI YAMA RA BHAYA.

Transliterated..

O Naveena, just look behind.
Holding the stick in hand,
The Bapuji man is standing.
The old man's eyes are filled with tears.
Yama, the God of Death;
has filled his Dreamland with fear.

Mahatma Gandhi, the Father of Nation often credited for bringing independence to us, dreamt a RAM RAJYA (Utopian State) of India. But unfortunately, his dream remained stillborn, though post independence, we had a spell of ROME RAJYA (Romancing the indirect rule by a person of Roman origin). 

Lots of water has flown under Mahanadi bridge as we have come long way since 1981. We have come out of the miasma of poverty and malnutrition with classic Hindu rate of growth, now chugging ahead steadily, inching towards a $4 trillion GDP while moving tens of millions out of poverty.

Still a lot needs to be done, as multiple challenges lie ahead. Rocky are the roads, turbulent are the streams and miles to go before we sleep. And I am sure one day we will get there. HAPPY 78th BIRTHDAY to Motherland INDIA.

Dog menace

 On Monday, the Supreme Court of India, with its offices in the center of New Delhi ruled that the current legal practices for taking care of the city's stray dog population were inadequate. Within eight weeks, the court declared, all strays must be rounded up and detained permanently in shelters.

Great initiative and directive from the judiciary. But extremely difficult to implement in a country where government isn't the solution, rather the problem. Stray dog problem isn't something new. It has existed for decades. When their population grew, as usual the inept government of India not only slept, it became increasingly corrupt.

Reminded me of this incident from my college days. One late winter evening in Bhubaneswar I was bicycling back to my house after finishing my tutorials at the residence of our chemistry teacher Mr. Raghunath Panda. After crossing the railway tracks near SISHU BHAVAN - MAUSIMA CHOWK (those days there road arteries of Bhubaneswar were yet to be chocked with traffic cholesterol, so no bypass in form of flyover was needed). Suddenly the chain of my bicycle came out. I managed to put it back on the axle. No sooner I resumed my journey back home, than a crackling noise started coming out from the chain rubbing itself with the protective metal cover. Close to 9 PM there was hardly any traffic (not unusual those days on a wintry night when the city of temples was still a sleepy township of salaried people). Thinking of procrastinating the repair of my bicycle to next morning, I cranked on, sure of not getting  noticed.

Or so I thought. There were plenty of pariah dogs snoozing nearby who were soon alerted out of their slumber by the noise. Half a dozen of them gathered, baring their fangs and barking they approached me. I chugged on, switching between fast pedaling and  keeping my legs parallel to the ground like a gymnast performing parallel bar to avoid getting bitten. But more than their bite what bothered me was the harrowing specter of getting 14 injections (shots) in my navel (it was how the anti-rabies vaccine were  administered those days).

Luckily for me from a dimly lit corner came my savior, my Hero, the Knight in Shining Armor - in form of an egg vendor who wrapping up to close his stall, ready to call it a day. Lifting his LUNGI and swinging a stick he chased those canines away. I breathed relief. After profusely thanking him, I resumed my journey, thankfully reaching home without any further mongrel chase. That was the closest call I ever had with a canine in my life. A few years back my father was bitten by a stray dog during his morning walk. Since then he, along with his walking companions carry a stick for self diffence.

Not long ago, I read the news about a 10 year old kid mauled to death by a pack of dogs in Bangalore. Though I am all for animal rights and completely against the cruelty towards animals, I believe something must be done to alleviate the stray dog menace, whose population in India run into several millions and millions more are bitten by them every year.

I am an animal lover and do not favor taking the life of any animal, even if it is a snake, standing lock in step with the Animal Rights groups. Neutering them is the only solution to reduce the population of man's oldest friend and world's first domestic animal in a subtle humane way as culling them as an option is outruled. In USA which has its share of pet overpopulation and overflowing animal shelters, they citizens are encouraged to neuter the pets to keep them from breeding further. But in a country like India where millions of stray dogs flood in droves every nook and street corner, catching and neutering them is understandably a herculean task.

Hope after this directive from the 3rd pillar of democracy will make the government smell the coffee and wake up before it's too late. Whether GOI (Government of India) will get out from its Kumbhakarna like slumber mode (the legendary demon from epic Ramayana who was known to sleep for months) your guess is as good as mine. When a menace grows into an epic proportion and push comes to shove, I am afraid at one point they will be culled which can be very well be described using the Odia phrase - NEDI GUDA KAHUNI KU BOHI JIBA (Allowing Jaggery from the palm to flow into the elbow). It simply means, knowlingly allowing a problem to persist, until it reaches an unrecoverable stage. Till then we may continue to debate !

Why sensible folks aren't happy with BJP

 A lot of my friends are questioning me why am I critical of Modi led BJP government. Some of them who aren't blind supporters but support the party nevertheless say that Modi and BJP are better than the present available alternatives, Rahul Gandhi or Kejriwal as the duo don't provide any hope for the electorates (India, though a Parliamentary democracy, the elections are mostly run Presidential style of government where the people mostly vote for a person based on his or her charisma rather than party's agenda and policy).

It reminds me of a saga from India's famous epic MAHABHARAT composed thousands of years before Jesus Christ was born. Once the blind King Dhritarashtra was in a quandary. He had to decide to punish four persons who commited a homicide, each one of them from the 4 prevalent castes (a segregation based on profession) - Brahmin, Khyatriya, Baisya and Shudra. The King decided to outsource the task of deciding the punishment to the crown Princes of his Kingdom Hastinapur, his son Duryodhan and his brother's son Yudhishtir.

Duryodhan immediately jumped in and passed his verdict - "As the four persons knowingly commited the heinous crime together, all of them should receive the same punishment of death sentence". When Yudhistir was asked the same question he said there will be 4 different punishments for the 4 persons who committed the crime. "Four different punishment for the same crime ? It doesn't make sense to me", exclaimed Shakuni, Duryodhan's maternal uncle and mentor who had no love lost for Yudhishtir. "Yes, and here is why. The Shudra should get 1 year jail term because he is the least knowledgeable of the lot and lacks a sense of judgment without realizing the consequence of his action. The Baisya should get 5 years, because he was more educated than the Shudra, but less educated compared to the Khyatriya and Brahmin, hence should have shown more prudence. The Khyatriya should get 10 years in jail as in spite of more sensible than the Shudra and Baisya he still went on to commit the crime. The Brahmin should get capital punishment. Why ? Because the Brahmin who learnt Vedas and Sashtras (our sacred scriptures) should have dissuaded his other 3 partners from commiting the cold blooded killing. But he played his part by abetting the crime. So he should get the death penalty" - said the eldest son of Pandu.

Satisfied with the answer, Vidura, the Prime Minister of the Kuru court nodded in acknowledgement of the decision passed by Yudhishtir and relayed it to the King. Flipping his blind eyes, a recalcitrant Dhritarastra who was known to be partial to his son Duryodhan, reluctantly accepted Yudhistir's judgement and announced his verdict.

Similar to the Brahmin in Mahabharat, many who voted BJP to power in 2014 thought it will be different from the other party when it came to power after a decade, especially from Congress Party. It was supposed to be the party with a difference, a party which boasts of ideological values and viruses. As it didn’t fulfill the expectations, it deserves the worst criticism (incidentally overwhelming number of Brahmins, including most of my friends and relatives are strong supporters of BJP). Hopefully I drove my point.

The death of Registered Post

India Post has officially announced that it will discontinue its Registered Post service starting September 1, 2025, bringing an end to a communication system that existed from the British Raj and served 10s of millions across the country. This move is part of a broader effort to modernise postal operations and consolidate services under the more advanced Speed Post system. With the harbinger of modernity this follows little more than 12 years ago when the telegram services was closed forever in India. July 15, 2013 was the last day a telegram was sent.

For years telegram was the harbinger of news - good, bad or ugly. First the good news, which was mostly related to birth of a child (mainly son, birth of a daughter unless she is the first child is rarely an occasion to celebrate back home as the expectation for a second child is invariably is a son if the first born is a daughter). Or a new job offers for which the Mailman (postman) was rewarded with LADDOOS (sweets) or monetary tips, occasionally both. 

Bad news was mostly related to sickness and death. Often dreaded for delivering news related to death, the telegram was already on its death bed in the age of emails, internets, social media, texts and smart phones. Unsurprisingly, finally it died its natural death. It took a dozen more years to close Registered post as electronic signature, web tracking and usage of Apps on smartphones have made physical signature redundant.

Once a Babu (the way a government servant is addressed in India) went out on an urgent trip. He instructed his orderly (a British legacy where the menial jobs of a Bureaucrat is handled by a low paid assistant) system send a telegram to his family members informing them about his unplanned jaunt. The faithful servant sent a telegram in Odia "BABU AJI MARI JAICHANTI" transliterated "Our master passed away today".

In fact the Babu went to a place called AJMER in Rajasthan. So a slight difference in the spelling of AJMER and AJI MARI (died today) played havoc in the family, the ill fated  recipients of the fated telegram. When the smiling Babu returned back home a few days later his family members were startled to see him as if they saw a ghost. 

I sent one telegram in my life to fake illness in order to get some leaves from my Govt service where I once worked for a short period of time. I was told to do so, as a telegram message then was the best proof of authenticity to use in the SARKARI world. RIP, Registered postal service. Even years after your death you will have enough of nostalgia tied to you to be dug out from your grave, same as your predecessor Telegram.

Water and Milkman mix well

 Most of our cities in India these days get their milk supplies from their local Cooperatives. In Odisha it is called OMFED (Odisha Milk Federation). It was not so during my growing up days back in India. We had to depend on our local GAUDA meaning "The Milkman", a caste or section of the society who are primarily milkmen - in the business of raising cattle, supplying and distribution of milk. Sometime it could be the GAUDUNI or the milkmaid.

Either way, there was no concept of getting 100% pure milk. If you are lucky you might get it in less adulterated form compared to others. Even the most honest milkman or milkmaid would mix some water. Like gold, the milk would never be 24 carat, its purity depending upon the person's degree of honest dilution.

Adjacent to the BJB Flats (now called Apartments in India as British legacy has changed to Pax Americana, so Flats are called Apartments these days in India) in Bhubaneswar where we used to live were the government quarters of the class IV employees. Most used their front yard to fruitful use - farming fruits, vegetables and kept cows in sheds in their backyard to supplement their income. 

I was 11 or 12 years old at that time. After finishing my regular gully cricket, my task every evening was to trudge a furlong to one such dingy residences to fetch our daily quota of milk. This particular Milkman was known to be well versed with our ancient scriptures. With an impressive voice he could readily recite couplets from BHAGABATA and PURANA from tip of his glib, loquacious tongue. Rumor had it, he was blessed by Lord Krishna, the Hindu God from his own caste and his black cow delivered the sweetest milk in the town.

 

My mother had immense faith in him, flattered by him addressing her as MAA (mother) and touching her feet most mornings when she would venture out to pluck flowers. He would tell her how privileged and fortunate was he to serve a SASAN Brahmin from Puri, regarded as the best among the Brahmins of Odisha. It was impossible for my simple mother to have an iota of doubt on the milkman of such impeccable, lily white character.

A pious man of such stature would never do the mundane act of diluting his well accrued good Karma by diluting the milk with water while he sold to his gullible customers. Even thinking on those lines would be a sacrilege. 

Or so we thought. One fine evening as usual I reached the cowshed, swinging the classic white, metallic cylindrical container by its thin metal string tied to the top. In the twilight hours inside his shadowy cowshed, in dimly lit lantern light our milkman showed me his empty bucket to me to remove any iota of doubt from my mind that it contains any water. He placed his bucket under the cow's udder and started milking. To the unsuspecting me, it still didn't go unnoticed that he was surreptitiously tilting his milk bucket and stealthily pouring water into it from a dirty LOTA (pot) hidden in a dark corner.

After I got back home, I narrated this to my mom who dismissed it as a figment of my imagination. A few days later I contacted fever and wasn't in a position to go, fetch milk. My uncle who substituted me also saw the same and almost got into a fist fight with the milkman, who never admitted of any wrongdoing and resorted to the usual GALUAMI (The Odia term for stubborn refusal to admit). His hypocrisy exposed, we eventually switched to another milkman. But this incident reminded me of what the American President Ronald Reagan said - "Trust but verify". I learnt it the hard way.

It explains the popular Odia idiom KETE PANI MISICHI (how much water is mixed) to ascertain the degree of manipulation made. It is best seen in gully cricket matches where at least 5% score is added by the scorer to the ultimate tally. If a team scores 100 runs, it could be actually 95 or even less.

Like milk a little bit of adulteration here and there never hurts. I have heard how tiny pebbles were ideal mix for rice, grinded brick granules for Chilli powder, dried Papaya seeds for Black pepper and so on. It probably explains why Gold is 22 carats.

#autobiography 

Never borrow, never lend

 These days I am getting a lot of unsolicited solicitation for money. It is very flattering for someone who is far from being rich. However I enjoy my two cents and two minutes of attention. People think I have a Dollar tree in my backyard and harvest $100 bills like I harvest veggies every summer. In reality I am rather a frequent visitor of Dollar tree store in my neighborhood.

There are occasional posts on Facebook about people borrowing money and never returning. Not quite an uncommon phenomenon, something most of us at some point or other in our life have gone through this agony and ignominy of lending money only never to see it returned. In Odisha it is called HATHA UDHARI (hand loans), i.e., money normally passed from hand to hand at 0% APR interest purely based on faith. Invariably no kind of paperwork is involved. But as usual promises are made to be broken - especially in matters of heart and money.

There was this guy who came to my place in 1992 asking for Rs.5000 for his sister's wedding. He literally cried in front of me. Wrapping his arm around my shoulder he said " MO BHAITA PARA (you are my dear brother). You have sisters too, so you can understand my pain and plight. I will return the money in 2-3 weeks." We are champions at expressing fraternal love at the time of need, which  rarely stays the same after the deed. His gesture melted my heart like butter on a hot plate, as I get emotional especially when it comes to sisters as I love them to the innermost core of my heart. Without hesitating further I grabbed whatever I had and settled for Rs. 3000. It was a substantial amount for me then which was pretty much equivalent of my monthly salary.

More than three weeks passed. Months and a year rolled by. The promise of returning back my money was never kept. The money was never returned. One day I decided to storm by his place and demanded if he can return at least a part of his hand loan procured through his expression of filial love in a sibling related matter. I could instantly sense that his overflowing brotherly love during our last meeting has considerably dried up, like river MAHANADI bed during the peak summer.

Needless to say I returned empty handed with one more promise to return it in few days and the solace of recovering Rs. 7, Rs 2 for the price of two ALUCHAPs (Potato cutlets, a popular snack in Odisha) washed down with a bottle Limca priced at Rs. 5, fully paid by my debt owning friend. Rest Rs.2993 assured washed down the drain. I returned back gasping like the Cheetah on National Geographic Channel after a failed attempt to catch its pray.  

Here in US, I haven't heard of any story of hand loans gone bust, but some use hand guns to procure them. In that case there is hardly any expectations for getting it back. A la back home, when money is lent purely based on trust and emotions, there is hardly any barometer to measure it. The lure of easy cash can easily turn a person of trust to BHRAST (spoilsport), ruining the goodwill and eventually relationship. I wish I had listened to my father who said and these are the lines I repeat to those who ask me for money -

"If you want to keep a friend,
 Never borrow, never lend." 

RIP Mohammed Shahid

Do you remember Mohammed Shahid. Most of us probably don't. Following hockey was one of my childhood passions and Mohammed Shahid was very much a part of it. A dribbler of par excellence, stick work extraordinaire, he perennially posed threat to his opposite team. 

Along with Jaffer Iqbal and Merwin Fernandez, the troika would often dribble their way into the opponents "D" - the scoring zone of field hockey. Sadly India lacked a striker like Hassan Sardar of Pakistan to convert his art into goals. For Legends Ric Charlesworth of Australia, Michael Peter of Germany, Akhtar Rasool and Hanif Khan of Pakistan of that time - Shahid was the player to watch. But lack of quality penalty corner specialists like our Dutch and German counterparts prevented us from going Semi finals of major tournaments those days. 

Still the credit to most victories we had in Hockey during the late 70s - mid 80s goes to this man from the city of Varanashi. A gold medal in 1984 LA Olympics, would have been a fitting finale to a marvelous career. Sadly, his hard work and Indian dominance in that crucial game against Germany couldn't translate into goals, costing India a semifinal berth, forever sealing India's medal dream. 

It was a sad day for hockey and sad that arguably the greatest dribbler of our time succumbed to ailments at a young age of 56 exactly 9 years ago. May he Rest In Peace.

The tragic suicide death of a girl in Balasore

News about crime against women is nothing new in my home state back home Odisha. Few days back a 20 year old girl named  Soumyashree in the Balasore district of the state killed herself by self immolating as a protest against being sexually harassed by a college teacher. It's not just that, a plethora of news coming from Odisha on media, social or otherwise regarding crimes against women including rapes and molestation is not only disgusting, disturbing as well. Disgusting - can't think of a better word to depict these incidents. Disturbing - coming from a state where the folks are known to be laid back, docile and mostly law fearing, though not necessarily law abiding (fear of law enforcement authorities, the police keep their libidos in check). Not the case any more, if recent incidents are to be believed.

Every person has right to live. It hurts utmost when someone commits suicide by taking his or her life. And it hurts more, if that person happens to be young. Like every man and woman of their age, they too have a dream, but unwisely decide to procrastinate their unfulfilled dream by killing themselves.

When does a person decide to end life ? It's not just because of the frustration with life, it's more due to their lack of care or concern for rest of the world, which includes their near and dear ones. If I feel suicidal for some reason, I may resist that thought for a moment, if I think of my family, my wife, my son or cat, if not me. Apparently the person ending his or her life don't care about the loved one and go for it at the spurt of the moment, never getting a second chance to regret it later.

Suicides in college campuses are not uncommon. Surging teenage hormone gone wild can create havoc in heart and mind, which can be due to failure in romance, academics or bullying by others, or as this case alleged sexual harassment by teacher. It reminds me of this scene from the iconic movie 3 IDIOTS where a student kills himself due to his frustration at his creative and innovative project being pooh poohed by the Principal of the College. The student Rancho played by the actor Aamir Khan complains about the mental stress the students undergo, leading to such avoidable tragedies. As the Principal gets defensive and refuses to take the blame, Aamir Khan replies - "I am rather blaming the entire system, not you Sir".

My first memory of one such heinous incident, a crime though not suicide, goes back to 1980 when as a 11 year old, I was not old enough to comprehend the depth it - yet old enough to recognize its evilness and impertinence to any civil society. It was the rape and murder of Chhabirani, the wife of a journalist who went above and beyond his job to expose the nexus of a cabal of crooks of petty politicians, local officials and small time businessmen in coastal Odisha's Jagatsinghpur, then part of the undivided Cuttack district. It was an unusual bold step for a journo from a state where his fraternity's ethics can be judged by the paens of praise they can heap on you for a bottle of liquor. (Khushwant Singh once wrote that Indian journalists are suckers for freebies and champion consumers of alcohol as long as someone else paid for it. Usual disclaimers apply).

The tragedy happened when chased by criminals, the journalist accompanied by his pregnant wife and child were trying to flee his village in the middle of night. The moon was pale as they tried to cross the BILUAKHAI river, one of several river distributaries criss crossing the vast Mahanadi delta in coastal Odisha. Here is where the details get sketchy. Some say the pregnant wife along with her little kid could not cope with his faster walking husband and fell behind getting separated for ever. Another version - the man had to attend his nature's call and took time to relieve himself near the sandy bed and wash clean with the river water as many villagers do. He lost some valuable time only to come back and regret later - for his wife was nowhere to be seen. We don't know which one of these versions is true.

But what we know, the men on chase took their turns to rape Chhabirani to death along with her yet to be born child. Her semi buried body from the sands of river was recovered later in a decomposed state. But this incident survived the sands of time to become a folklore of the area for a long time to come. It was the age sans social media when internet and cell phones were strictly fantasy. TV was non existent. "The SAMAJA", the only widely circulated vernacular newspaper of the time with some reach to the interior parts of Odisha carried the news. The brutality of the crime against a pregnant woman raped and killed in cold blood caught the imagination of the common man of Odisha - at least in its thickly populated coastal belt. A local JATRA (Folk Troupe) made a lot of money acting an episode named RAPE and MURDER made out of this ghastly incident.

Laxman Mallick, the contemporary MP of Jagatsinghpur from the Congress parry was accused of shielding the perpetrators of this inexcusable act. It is said he was made a scapegoat, the fall guy as the entire chain of the higher ups, including the contemporary Chief Minister J.B.Patnaik allegedly tried their best to protect their political turf by containing the fall out of the crime.

Time flew. Years later, I read the news of the berieved journalist getting remarried, becoming a father again and leading a low profile life. Was justice ever delivered to Chhabirani then and those who commited the crime got punished ? Your guess is as good as mine. Nearly 50 years later will justice delivered to the deceased girl Soumyashree from Balasore. Again your guess is still same as good as mine !!!

Trip to a Dentist's

A man and a woman were traveling in a train. The woman said to the man - Every time you smile I feel like inviting you to my place. Man, excited - "Are you single ?" Woman - No, I am a dentist.

Recently I had a trip to my Dentist's office. Though no big of a deal, invariably a dental visit has a mental syndrome associated with it. Glad the trip went well. Sad, I still had to come out of the habit of touching and feeling the filling's coating 1001 times a day using my tongue tip.

During the fancy dress competition in our school a guy playing dentist would try to uproot his patient's tooth using a hammer and chisel. The scene was hilarious. That impression of a dentist lasted in my mind for a while as the childhood memories tend to linger longer, shaping one's character. When I watched the scene from movie CASTAWAY where Tom Hanks takes off his aching tooth using a skating ⛸ shoe and a coconut, like deja vu I instantly remember this fancy dress competition.

The apprehension of visiting a dentist's probably has to do with my growing up days when dental hygiene was not given a priority. Flushing in between the teeth and professional dental cleaning was hardly heard of. When I had occasional dental pain my mother would give me some clove oil and it stopped it. I never saw a mouthwash until I was into my 20s. Brushing and KULUKUNCHA, the Odia word for rinsing the mouth post eating was the best dental care we used to do. A POKA KHIA DANTA, the Odia term for germ eaten worn out tooth warranted a visit to dentist. Fortunately for me, so far I have encountered only minor dental issues. 

Rather than fluoride coating most people in Odisha had black coated teeth due to chewing of tobacco filled PAANs (betel), with the GUA (betel nuts) giving them first a red coating which over time turns into a brown crust. The accompanied tobacco gives the teeth a dark hue. The parents of a nubile girl who got into this bad habit of chewing ZARDA (a popular scented tobacco brand) PAAN received a marriage proposal for her. She was paraded in front of the Candidate (local lingo for a prospective groom) - a salient feature of the parody of the arranged marriages in India. 

Before being paraded, the visiting groom's side were served warm "cold drinks" (as soda is called in India), followed by chilled Singada (Samosa) and piping sweet and syrupy hot tea, claimed to be made by the prospective bride-to-be. However throughout the evening she deliberately kept her teeth clenched while serving the food and drink to groom's family. But no sooner she opened her mouth, than the proposal was doomed as the closely observing groom's mother (the prospective mother-in-law) opened her mouth with this snide remark - "JHIA TI RA RANGA JEMITI, DANTA BI SEMITI" (Like the girl's dark complexion, so goes her teeth). Fair complexion rules the rule in India. The point was well taken.

Many eventually score 32 all out (all 32 teeth gone) in their 2nd innings after their first innings of "32 all out" happens around 10 years of age old when all the milk tooth come out. But the 2nd innings can come way too early if you don't take any dental care. The tooth gone the second time is gone forever.

Back in those days there were a few dentists in Bhubaneswar, only one I knew was a man of Chinese origin who had a dental clinic in Bapuji Nagar. Folks would visit the dentists only if a toothache gives them sleepless nights. These days many dentists are doing flourishing business in Bhubaneswar. May their tribe thrive. A "32 all out" exposing the phalanx of white teeth is a far better sight than uneven tobacco stained blackened teeth.

Reminds me of a funny incident, how bad we are at following personal safety as far our DANTA (tooth in Odia) and it bears a lot of similarity with the English word associated with Dental). One of my friends from Berhampur, Odisha just day before his interview, in order to hide his betel stained teeth told me - "Interview AGARU TUPAZZA BLADE DHARI DANTA KURIBARA EKKA (using a topaz blade, I will clean my teeth). He was quite a smart guy, but still did it in spite of me advising him not to do so. Not only this action can damage the tooth enamel, there is danger of severly hurting the gum and making it septic. Still he went ahead and did his "DANTA KURIBARA EKKA".

It is said that in old paintings you will rarely find people smiling as they were reluctant to expose their teeth while sitting for the artist because of their bad teeth. Those days people didn't take care of dental hygiene and many lost their teeth in their early days of life. Not anymore. Dental hygiene, dental care, wearing of braces etc has gone up, so also business of the dentists. We live in changing times.

Trump’s Humiliation of BJP MP

US President Donald Trump still continues to hyphenate India - Pakistan to the chagrin of his supporters back home in India. He doesn't care about the adulations and accolades he received from his fans in India, especially from supporters of Modi/BJP/RSS. Mr. Trump is no more our Fraand Dolaand (it was purely an one sided love affair as it was never reciprocated with my friend Narendra). Fraand Dolaand has left his supporters stranded in hot water, utterly disappointed. 

In this context we would think the sulking Trump fans in India learnt their lesson and would hold on to their horses, but if several recent news reports to be believed, they suggest otherwise. A young, unnamed BJP MP (the finger points to Tejaswi Surya of Karnataka) was reportedly humiliated during a meeting with Donald Trump. The MP allegedly sought a meeting with US President after other individuals, including Milind Deora, an old Indian hand with close business links met with Trump's sons. Failing to secure a meeting through official channels, the MP reportedly arranged a separate meeting via a personal US-based contact. He reportedly traveled to Trump's Mar-a-Lago estate and was introduced as a "close associate of the Indian head of state". 

Sources suggest Trump was unimpressed and made his trademark blunt, harsh insulting remarks during the interaction, leaving the MP embarrassed. We say in Odia - "AJA GA GHA DEKHI HUENI KI DEKHEI HUENI", closely translated - "The wound on your ass could neither be seen, nor shown". The humiliated MP reportedly kept the details of the meeting quiet upon returning to India, but the news leaked out nevertheless. He was later reprimanded by the BJP leadership and issued a warning not to venture beyond protocols, for our MP wasn't on the US soil on a personal trip, rather as part of a mission sanctioned by Government of India. 

Most of Trump fans in India who are mostly supporters of Prime Minister Modi and BJP were upset when cold shouldered by their Mahaprabhu's Fraand Dolaand due to the later's stance during the recent skirmish between India and Pakistan. Fraand Dolaand not only chose to stay neutral, he proclaimed and took credit for stopping the India - Pakistan war from escalating into a nuclear conflict, he followed it by mollycoddling the Pakistan's Army Chief by inviting the Chief architect of the belligerence directed towards India to lunch with him in the White House. 

Many Right wing leaning folks in India saw American Conservatism and Donald Trump as their natural ally. Just because their Mahaprabhu held Trump's hands proclaiming "Ab Ki Baar Trump Sarkar" (next time it's Trump government) taking Trump's reelection in 2020 for granted, they thought that Trump will make America tilt again to India and declare Pakistan as a terrorist state. Nothing close to that happened. A few had even gone to the extent of requesting me to cast my vote in favor of Trump in both 2020 and 2024 US elections. Don't think Trump knew or even cared about his fans back in India. 

During the first few months of Trump's Presidency his foreign policy has been whimsical rather than strategic. He has hardly initiated any kind of pro India foreign policy beyond the perfunctory optics and succintly followed America first foreign policy. When Modi was gleeing with joy by exposing his phalanx of 24 teeth holding the hands of the American President in Houston, Trump's body language showed that he was clearly uncomfortable. It needs to be understood that American administration, regardless Republican or Democrat, always follows a deeply self centered foreign policy in a world where there is no permanent friends or enemies. Only permanent interest thrives. 

So much about Fraand Dolaand is our Fraand as perceived by members of Mahaprabhu's party. The perception is in ebb, but as this incident indicated we behave more like a jilted, jealous lover who still wants to impress her beau after getting slighted. Apparently the one sided affair hasn't ended yet !

Happy birthday Sanjeev Kumar

 If he were alive today, he would be celebrating his 87th birthday. He is Sanjeev Kumar, arguably the most versatile Bollywood actor of all time, born this day in 1938 in Surat, Gujarat as Haribhai Jariwala. A la his other brothers with congenital heart disease running in family, he couldn't complete 50, nor he could become a star like Amitabh or Rajesh Khanna. But he was an awesome actor to whom acting and his characteristic smile came naturally. Give him any role - old, young, comedy, tragedy, father, husband, brother or a leader, he would bring the best out of the character. His smile, his style of smoking, whether a Bidi of a slum dweller or a pipe smoking business tycoon was unique of its kind, perfectly fitting to the milieu and the role he chooses. 

The other day I was watching the movie KOSHISH, where Sanjeev Kumar and Jaya Bhaduri played the role of a deaf and dumb couple who stammered, communicating using broken words and sign language. Stellar, emotionally choked performance from both actors moistened my eyes. Watching him one never feels that he was ever acting, he was just the next door man having a casual look with a harmless smile just leading a normal life. In that movie Sanjeev Kumar was paired with Jaya Bhaduri, an actress with whom he had great on screen chemistry. Both of them excelled playing all different combinations of relationships between a man and a woman to perfection - Lover and Beloved (ANAMIKA), Husband and Wife duo (KOSHISH), Father-in-law and Daughter-in-law (SHOLAY) and so on.

In the movie LAKHON KI BAAT, a wonderful family oriented comedy movie Sanjeev Kumar played a comic lawer fighting a Worker's Complenation lawsuit for his brother-in-law Farooq Saikh. In the same movie, Utpal Dutt played the role of a Private Detective with a skull cap. He doesn't laugh at all, but can't stop you from laughing by occasionally winking his over enlarged eyes, swinging around his eyeballs - no actor has ever made me laugh more. 

Sanjeev Kumar's personal life was turbulent. He remained single all his life. Actress Nutan slapped him when Sanjeev Kumar proposed her at the set of movie "Devi". He had proposed to Hema Malini in 1973 which was rejected too and they remained in touch even after he suffered his first heart attack in 1976. Dharmendra who later married Hema Malini was so insecure that during the shooting of the iconic movie SHOLAY ensured that Hema Malini (Dharam was chasing Hema and later took her as his 2nd wife) and Sanjeev Kumar were not seen together in a single frame in any scene in that movie. During the shooting of Gulzar's "Aandhee" Sanjeev Kumar got drunk and knocked the door of actress Suchitra Sen's hotel room in the middle of night during the shooting. An insecure and insulted Suchitra Sen almost left for Calcutta after this incident but for the intervention of legendary Gulzar stopped her. The movie which had resemblance to Indira Gandhi's personal life was banned before getting released, but was a huge success afterwards.

The singer and actress Sulakshana Pandit later recounted been in love and having proposed marriage to Sanjeev Kumar who politely declined her proposal. It is speculated that as a result of this rejection, Sulakshana Pandit chose to remain a spinster. It is said that Sanjeev Kumar grimaced and famously told Sulakshana Pandit in his distinctive soft, lyrical voice - "Mein Kisi Aur Ko Pyaar Karta Hoon, Aur Toom Mujhe aur Wo Kisi Aur Se. Zindagi Kuchh Ajeeb Si Hai" - "I love some one and you love me, and she loves someone else. Life is somewhat weird". He wasn't far from truth.

Sanjeev Kumar's smile, expression and sarcasm filled dialogues came naturally to him. In one of his movie he is held hostage by a big, burly man. In order to escape he pretended to go to pee and showed his little finger to his captor. The big guy asked - YEH KYA HAI (What is this) ? Sanjeev Kumar says - "PEHLWAN JEE, AAP SCHOOL-WOOL NAHI GAYE THE KYA" (Mr. Bodybuilder. Didn't you ever go to school) ?

In movie SHOLAY he answers a puzzled duo Amitabh and Dharmendra querry about hiring them post a staged fight - TUM DONO KO YAHAN BULA KE KOI GALTI NAHI KI (I have done no wrong by calling both of you here). "LOHE KO LOHA KAT TA HAI" (only iron can cut iron).

Sanjeev Kumar was eqully deft in both comedy and tragedy, until tragedy struck him as he died of heart attack on the morning of  November 6, 1985 at the young age of 47. It was reported he Sanjeev Kumar was drinking till the wee hours of morning when he had a heart attack and breathed his last. 

What a multifaceted actor he was. He was a good man too, having helped many in Bollywood, an industry full of selfish folks. Satrughan Sinha mentioned about how Sanjeev Kumar helped him with money during a phase when the Bihari actor was going through a rough financial phase in life and Sanjeev Kumar was one of the highest paid. In the movie SHOLAY Sanjeev Kumar was paid Rs.1.25 lakh, more than any of the other actors in that movie.

Happy Birthday Sanjeev Kumar. You will forever be remembered for carving your niche in Bollywood and beyond. But you have done wrong to the Hindi movie industry by leaving too early when a lot was still left in you. Rest in Peace where you are.

Happy 4th July 2025

The Spanish explorer Christopher Columbus discovered a land in the year 1492, though the name "America" came from Italian navigator Amerigo Vespucci. Columbus (the name taken by multiple cities in US including the one where I live) died a frustrated man. Because the legendary Spanish explorer was never able to discover his dreamland called India - considered the land of opportunity those days. A frustrated man, he had to settle for a group of Islands which he aptly named as West Indies (India of the West) when his ship "Santa Maria" sailed far west in the Atlantic Ocean instead of East where India was located. The name "Indies" was the consolation prize for his failure to discover the El Dorado of the time - the land of milk and honey called India.

Wish Columbus had lived half a century longer and found solace in the readings of the famous French Seer & Clairvoyant Nostradamus - the man credited for seeing the future centuries ahead of time, which includes correctly predicting the arrival of Napoleon and Hitler as well as the two World Wars accompanying these two anti-Christs, dwarfish looking men trying to create a tall world order. Around the year 1550 Nostradamus predicted that "The New World", as America was called then, will rise to its zenith of power close at the turn of millennium. He was half right. United States of America went a step further and become a Superpower at turn of the millennium.

A new star was born little more than a century after Nostradamus's famous prediction. Western settlers adventured their way to North America which those days had more Bisons than humans. The Pioneers (explorers in the form of initial settlers who moved further west and south) would expand the American horizon - from its initial 13 states to 50, each star representing one state, combining to form the United States of America. The last ones acquirer were Alaska - a lucky buy at a darn cheap price from Russia and the Island of Hawaii, a vacationer's paradise. When Alaska was sold by Russia for a darn cheap price, American press howled - "Russia sold a sucked orange to us". US is now sucking oil and gas from the mineral rich state, not to mention the revenue from tourism in Alaska.

America became independent on 4th of July, 1776, commemorating "Declaration Of Independence", after defeating the undefeatable English, arguably the only nation ever in history to have convincingly defeated the British and drive them out of their land. (Although America retained the English language, Foot, Pound Unit of measurement and modified the English game of Cricket to their own Baseball). A defeated Lord Cornwallis had to beat retreat and accept defeat. Cornwallis who was driven out of America went later to India to establish the British empire over there.

America is still a baby, considering only 249 years old compared to the most civilizations of the world, some of whom are at least 10 times older. But the baby has taken some giant steps in a short span of time, which no one has ever done in history of mankind. A land of immigrants, it has come a long way since the days of the Mayflower (the ship which carried early immigrants). Isolated from rest of the world, America coped well with changing times - began as an agrarian society, followed by industrial revolution which made it self sufficient, whereas trading by selling its surplus made it rich.

Soon it surpassed Europe in opulence. By the beginning of the First World War, 90% of American households had access to car, 4 times more phones per person than British, 6 times more than Germans, the two nations considered compatible to US at the time. Except a blip post during the 1929 financial crisis which exposed the ugly underbelly of American Capitalism, its opulence prevailed. The reason - America's uncanny ability to continually innovate, invent and improvise. From Electricity, Air Conditioning, Airplanes to this platform called Facebook and its host internet, the Apple iWhatever devices we use to connect and communicate across globe as well as use these American products to be critical of the United States are all America's contribution to the rest of the world.

Those who built America from the scratch were adventurous, because they arrived at a time when they left home knowing that they aren't going to come back. They also didn't know what's in store for them at their new place of arrival. They also  knew that they can't communicate to their folks back home in an age sans telephone and internet. Patriotism is ingrained in this nation, vindicated by still able to stitch the country together post Civil war which lasted from 1861-1865.

America is known for its resilience. Those pejorative towards the USA should know that it has been through shittier times and came out unscathed. Bad times too shall pass. So stuff your wishful thinking to the of your most convenient orifice. Time and again this nation has proved wrong its detractors who predicted its early demise. The end of America as they see is premature and preposterous. The nation will thrive as long as it retains the edge in technology and juggernauts ahead on its wheels of unbridled innovation and free market. Happy birthday to the United States of America. WISH ALL A HAPPY 4TH OF JULY. Enjoy the fireworks and stay safe.

Summer trip to Savannah - Day II

 Savannah is a quintessential tourist town which has enough history to showcase. The first tour a Trolley ride through its historic streets. We stopped by the oldest house, its first owner was a Pirate in 1735 and still preserved. The tour guide stopped by the bench made famous by Tom Hanks in his iconic movie "Forrest Gump" who sitting on the bench delivered in his thick, Southern accented monologue - "Life is a baax (box) of chaacklates (chocolates). You don't know what yaa going to geyt (get)". 

USA is blessed with gigantic water bodies to sustain the river cruise liners. The rivers are fed by rainfall which is well distributed throughout the year, not just limited to a particular season. It explains why there is no particular "rainy season" in most parts of America. In the relatively dry West, snow clad mountains feed the rivers, making them perennial. US is filled with big lakes of different shapes sizes - starting from tiny ponds to Great Lakes in North, all gargantuan sources of freshwater. 

It was a cooler, slightly windy and humid day here in Savannah with intermittent rains for few minutes. Water, water every where - coming down from top in form of rain and the Savannah river brimming in water below the River Cruise liner with the drenched American flag fluttering on the tall flagmast atop the ship. 

We all were ensconced inside the ship followed by shifting to the deck for a better view of the shore as the ship snaked its way through the great Savannah river, dredged to 50 feet deep to let ships pass through. From the comfort of cool enclosure we watched the seagulls brave the rain, diving into the river water for a fresh catch. The Seagull catches fish the hard way, under harsher circumstances and lower visibility. It yet vindicates that fishing on your own way gives you better confidence than being an armchair angler. 

Americans have mastered the art of commercializing things which even Science doesn't explain. The country is full of hunted hotels, mansions where folks pay a premium price to experience. It is said that the Actor Jim Carey once stayed in one such famous Hunted hotels paying heavy price. In the middle of night he was seen running bare bodied with only his shorts on in the hotel lobby. He promptly shifted, never going back to his room again. When asked, he never disclosed the reason for his weird behavior in the middle of the night but vowed never go back to that hotel ever again. 

Same goes with the Ghost tours and Savannah in the state of Georgia is famous for those. A trip to Savannah is incomplete without taking one of the several ghost tours available after dark. Many stay in the Hunted hotels for the sake of experiencing spooky stuff, but we preferred to avoid such hotels. I am afterall a meek Odia without much water stored in his ass (GA**I RE PAANI NAHI, as they say in Odia) chicken out of any such adventures. 

Last time when we were here in the winter of 2019, the weather was perfect for a Ghost tour - Cold, Dark and Stormy. We took a guided tour of the most famous Hunted House of Savannah - Andrew Lowe's mansion. Andew Lowe was a rich and influential man who minted money by exporting Cotton when the demand for the cash crop was high at in the initial days of the Industrial Revolution. 

But even stinking rich people are not immune to tragedies as one after another struck him at the height of his money and fame. His wife and couple of kids died young. Andrew Lowe was left crestfallen. Many since have witnessed shadowy figures in that mansion, a man in a Butler's dress named Tom. Smell of cigar suddenly wafts inside the hallway with no one seen smoking around.  

A few have smelled a rosy perfume close by as they felt like suddenly brushed aside by some. The perfume was supposedly worn by Mary, the second wife of Andrew Lowe who died young in that house.  

Following the hurricane of 1979, men working around the Mansion heard the painful sobbing of a woman. Their first thought was it was someone taking refuse there, as many mansions were used as temporary shelter homes for the hurricane evacuees. They followed the sobbing sound to one room above the staircase, but found nobody there. However, they found that it was the Anniversary of the death of Mary, who died in that exact room where the crying came from. 

As a finale to our Savannah travelogue here are a few Spooky Jokes told by our Ghost tour guide retold here. 

Why the Skeleton didn't go to Prom ?Because he had nobody.  

Why the Ghost didn't couldn't get his crush?

Because he had no guts. 

What's the cross of a Vampire and a Snowman- Frostbite. 

We made a short trip to the Tybee Island beach, a popular beach close by. It is arguably the best sea beach of the state of Georgia and I found it muddy, hardly worth of taking a stroll. Saw a few angles fishing and tourists wading through the shallow brownish blue water as a sea gull couple were struggling to make love in the sky. Thus concluded our short and sweet tour to Savannah, Georgia.

Summer trip to Savannah - Day I

Come summer time in America, schools are closed and closing on to the July 4th weekend, it's time for some downtime by taking some time off from work to enjoy the holidays, shugg off the jaded nerves recharging your batteries. As human beings we all are entitled to take a break from the daily drudgery and nothing helps better than taking a vacation. Being a busy year for me (each following year it invariably gets busier) a vacation had been long pending to prevent any burnout. 

We, gang of 4 friends from REC (now NIT) Rourkela with families decided to spend few days in the historic city of Savannah, Georgia - a place diametrically opposite of the city of Columbus where we live. Georgia is a big state, area wise it is pretty much close to Odisha, my home state back home. If you fold a map of Georgia by the Piedmont line extending from its North West corner to South East, Columbus on South West and Savannah on North East will probably overlap on each other.

Georgia was one of the first 13 states forming the United States of America. Savannah was a major port city down South, a center of trade where most of the cash crops produce - especially Tea, Rice, Indigo and Cotton were exported. It explains why cold Sweet Tea, (rather than hot tea we are accustomed to in India) is very popular in the South, served in almost every restaurant to help wash down the food.

Savannah was a prosperous city in the 18th and 19th century. But slowly except Cotton the demand for Tea, Rice and Indigo reduced over time as the main customers British started Tea and Indigo plantations in India. And India being their prized colony Great Britain, they got Tea, Indigo and Rice from India virtually free with plenty of cheap labor to exploit. 

The English found a better way of profiteering - plunder your own colony than compete with an independent country. However Savannah still remained the main port as far as exporting Cotton was concerned as England still needed American cotton. Though the Americans drove the British out of their country, the trade between the nation continued. Business and Politics have a strange contradictory relationship, similar to married couples they bicker with one another, yet stick together for the sake of mutual gain. English language created a bond between the two nations of common people separated by a common language.


Prohibition started in the year 1908 in Georgia which went dry 12 years before the complete prohibition was imposed in rest of America. It led to flourishing of bootlegging and the rich, port township  of Savannah was its epicenter in South. History has vindicated that prohibition has been a failure across the globe. Great Innovators they are, Americans distilled some of the best Bourbon Whiskeys during the prohibition era. (Lot of English words are shortened in American English, e.g. colour is called color, Cocoanut as coconut. But Whisky is called Whiskey in America, a rare instance of a longer version of the word in American English vis a vis British).

On a hot, muggy day while taking an evening walk on the famed River Street bustling with tourists and loud music on sidewalks and convertibles passing by, we saw a couple smooching and fondling each other with youthful enthusiasm ahead of us. They were high on Holiday spirit. The bald beau looked much older than the younger girl. I suddenly remembered a popular Odia DHAGA (Couplet) used in my village about Sugar daddies - the much older husbands of younger wives.

LANDA MUNDA KU SORISA TELA, 
BUDHA GHAITA KARUCHI GELA.

Mustard oil atop Bald Head
Old hubby is Kissing Ahead.

More later...