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...

First world war and history

 Exactly 121 years back on June 28, 1914 a young Serbian Gavrilo Princip shot dead Archduke Ferdinand and his wife to trigger the first World War which went on till 1918 with Germany being humiliated, soeimg the seeds for World War II.

It is said that Gavrilo and his group were a rag tag bunch of nationalists who were plotting an act of terror. For some reason the cavalcade of the Archduke and his wife on whom life attempts were made moments earlier took a wrong turn and stopped right in front of the anarchists.

The couple's cavalcade was destined to take a turn to destiny on that fateful day. For Gavrilo it was a God sent opportunity not to be to missed. Couple of his bullets found their mark as the Archduke and his wife slumped lifeless into each others arms. This event had its ripple effect triggering the First World War.

The war went on and one over several years. In the same war, a short, lean German soldier who was poked fun at by his taller, heavily built fellow Germans for his short height and funny moustache was sleeping inside his camp when he had this strange urge to get out. He duly followed his instinct and stepped outside. Moments later a bomb wiped out the rest of the soldiers sleeping inside the camp.

The rest is history as this man was no other than Adolf Hitler who survived the attack that night and another day in order to rewrite history by adding the chapter of World War II to it. One successful assassination started a war and another failed attempt prepared for the second. War can be treacherous & unpredictable. A small act of terror like a bunch of teenagers killing an Archduke can be like a matchstick lighted in a room filled with inflammable gas, leading to a larger and wider conflagration. One war leads to another, another war to another which can end up in a World War. History repeats itself and hope we learn something from history and don't condemn ourselves to repeat it.

Happy birthday PV Narasimha Rao

An episode from the year 1991 might ring a bell. This is how Subramanian Swamy, a man who has been in almost all parties and now-a-days a BJP man turned into a BJP critic, who then was a Commerce Minister in Chandra Sekhar's government, had this conversation with the US Ambassador to India.

This was during a very crucial time in early 1991 when the American led coalition forces were fighting the Iraq War and Indian economy was totally in shambles. The American Ambassador asked Dr. Swamy what India needed in exchange for refueling facility provided on Indian soil to the Gulf bound US planes fighting the Iraq war.

Here is how the conversation was reported. US Ambassador - "What do you want in return" ? Swamy said - "We want $2 billion because we are on verge of bankruptcy". The Ambassador replied, "You want it from the United States" ? Swami responded - "No, from the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and without any condition attached".

The Ambassador went on, "How can I get you money from IMF" ? Dr. Swami replied, "You Americans have 87 percent voting right in IMF. So, if you want landing rights, then on Monday I want $2 billion". The American played hard - "Today already it is Friday". Said Swami, "In Washington DC it is still Thursday night. I know you have the ability to get it." (And unlike many believe that world leaders get ecstatic by looking at Mahaprabhu's white beard and fake laughter, we know in international matters it is always a give and take relationship. It invariably needs some negotiation and hard bargaining before a deal is settled).

So US gave India $2 billion and they were given the landing rights. We changed our non-alignment policy overnight. 2 billion dollar, even adjusted to inflation is not a gargantuan amount by today's standard, considering India a USD 4 trillion plus economy and $700 billion in its Forex reserve. But it was no laughing matter then, when India's Balance of Payment position was extremely precarious and its coffer was on the verge of depletion. India with few hundred million of USD in its reserves and its gold mortgaged in a London Bank was staring at nightmare scenario of economic catastrophe.

Long rule by the Congress Party and its disastrous, leftist - socialist economy policy followed by years of classic Hindu rate of economic growth took us to the doorstep of impending bankruptcy. Yet it took another Congressman, incidentally not from the Nehru - Gandhi family to fix it. A huge credit for this transformation we are seeing 34 years down the road goes to one man, who almost retired from Politics, but became Prime minister of India by fluke on the aftermath of the tragic, untimely assassination of Rajiv Gandhi. He is the polyglot, erudite ex -Prime Minister of India P.V. Narasimha Rao.

Rao's contributions to India are many. Like all politicians he had his share of failures and shortcomings which is beyond the scope of this post. So, I will touch base with two of his significant achievements during his 5 year tenure as India's Prime Minister. 

First, salvaging the economy from brink of disaster as I mentioned upstream and heralding era of economic liberalization, ending the Licence - Permit Raj and red tapism which for years hung like an albatross on India's neck constraining and contributing to its meager growth.

Two, solving the Punjab Problem which looked beyond solution when he stepped into his office in June, 1991 in the middle of the state burning. Within months of becoming PM, Rao called elections in Punjab and managed to conduct one amidst fireworks of bullets and bombs. As we say in Odia, KANTA KU KANTA KADHE - A nail is needed to take out another nail. The Congress government that followed gave a free hand to the Super Cop KPS Gill whose motto was very simple - Kill a terrorist, earn a promotion. The Punjab police responded spectacularly by reaping bounties on the terrorist heads as bountiful as a successful Ravi crop harvest during the BAISAKHI (a popular festival in Punjab). By end of the year 1993, little more than two years after Rao taking office, terrorism in Punjab was a thing of past.

The man proved his mettle, carved his niche, vindicating that a leader can deliver sans histrionics in public. HAPPY BIRTHDAY to PV Narasimha Rao - Thanks to you, the country will never have to resort to mortgage its gold reserves once again.

50th Anniversary of Emergency

 One fine morning in June 1975, Justice Jagmohan Sinha of Allahabad High Court judged Prime Minister Indira Gandhi's victory over her rival Raj Narain, a political buffoon of the time, as null and void. This unexpected verdict was followed by calls for her resignation. Strikes and violence spread across parts of India as anarchy reigned. Soon she imposed internal emergency on the sultry midnight of June 25, 1975. That was exactly 50 years ago.

At that point, India was independent for less than 30 years. The hangover of being ruled in an undemocratic way was still strong (hasn't changed a whole lot since), so also the obsequiousness towards the ruler hadn't faded yet. It manifested itself by Indira Gandhi behaving herself as if she was the "Empress of India", not a democratically elected leader.

She couldn't be blamed alone, as a pliant media branded her as "The Iron lady". We can see this in the current disposition. The success of Bangladesh war and its subsequent liberation probably went on to her head. It is said that even a senior opposition leader A B Vajpayee of Jan Sangh (the precursor of India's current pro-Hindu ruling party BJP) who later went on to become India's Prime Minister famously idolized Indira Gandhi by describing her as our "Goddess Durga". RSS was soft on her those days.

Indira had become a cult figure by then. With cult status came sycophancy. Deb Kanta Barooah, a Congressman from Assam famously said about her - "India is Indira, Indira is India" (We have similar thinking these days by a few who say India is Modi, Modi is India. If you are against Modi, you are anti-Indian). She was soon surrounded by pliable sycophants who fed her what she liked to hear. Her younger son and groomed political heir Sanjay Gandhi was already behaving as a bully.

All fundamental rights were snatched from the citizens. Those who protested were put in jail. Indira and Sanjay Gandhi expected the opposition and the media to bend. Yet to their surprise barring a very few, most of the contemporary media decided to crawl. (Now history is repeating itself as the Godi or laptop media crawls before Mahaprabhu). One exception during those days was Kishore Kumar, an extremely popular singer at that time. He refused to sing for Sanjay Gandhi and was promptly banned from government controlled All India Radio and TV.

Not everybody opposed emergency. Barring a few incidents in Kerala, the rest of South India stood solidly behind her during the emergency and after (We see some parallels now as our Vishwaguru has the backing of his staunch supporters, mostly in North India). South of the Vindyas she stayed very popular among the masses as AMMA INDIRAMMA (mother Indira). In the Election that followed after emergency was lifted, Indira Gandhi swept the South though she was defeated from rest of India. (It needs to be noted that RSS and Siv Sena admired her for teaching its arch enemy Pakistan a lesson by carving a Bangladesh out of it. Both extended their covert support to her and she reciprocated by occasionally taking the help of RSS and Siv Sena during the Emergency to further her political goals).

Indira shrewdly played soft Hinduva card to her advantage as and when needed. But her son Sanjay had no soft corner for anyone and had no patience for the rule of law. He bulldozed slums of Delhi and rumored to have organized forced castration of Muslims, blaming them for India's population explosion.

But many who still remember those days say that though the freedom of citizens was clipped, the emergency had some positive outcome. People in government offices (biggest employer those days) came to work on time. Public sectors started making profit. Buses, planes and trains were dot on schedule. Though short lived, it was proven that we Indians respect the power of DANDA (rod) more than democracy.

I still believe a benevolent dictatorship with a vision is better than the chaotic democracy we presently have. We can disagree on this, but Jeffersonian model of democracy is a myth, a mirage and certainly doesn't fit to all milieu. Yet we can agree that Emergency was one of the important events in the post Independent India and there is always something to learn from history. 50 years since history is still keep repeating itself.

US attacks Iran

 So finally the President of the United States, Donald Trump who came to power with a promise of not only not starting a war, but to  stop the existing wars in a day, has attacked Iran within 5 months of coming to office. That too, not to fight America's war, but Israel's. Sometime back I wrote that whenever Republicans come to power, they have a history getting involved in avoidable wars, causing a loss to human lives and contributing to America's rising debts leaving Democrats to clean up the mess. The cycle repeats. Only difference, this time the Trump administration went to the war saddled in a cloak of hypocrisy - the promise to stop wars all over the world, unlike the prior Republican administration who were more sanguine about it. 

It won't be be an exaggeration to call Israel the 51st state of the United States. Ever since 1948 when Truman as the President of US was the first world leader to recognize the newly formed state of Israel, the bonding between the two nations has been rock solid, with America providing military and diplomatic support, using its veto power in UN regularly in favor of Israel. That's clearly due to the influence the Jewish lobby in American politics. The Jewish population of America is almost equal to the population of the Jews in Israel, if not more. Not only that, unlike us DESIs (a slang used in US for the folks of Indian origin, often in a deregatory way) who are mostly small time businessmen and software coolies like me, the Jews constitute the backbone of American economy - including and not limited to Rich Businessmen, Wall Street hochos, CEOs of large corporations, Doctors, Lawyers, Media persons,  Congressmen, Senators, Governors etc. More importantly unlike us Desis who are divided in lines of Gujjus, North Indians, South Indians etc, the Jews in the United States are extremely united. The Who's Who of America are jews who are known to bankroll politicians to sustain America's pro-Israel tilt. 

Most Jewish immigrants came to USA  around the World War II, especially from the Mainland European nations of Germany, France, Poland, Hungary, Lithuania, Bulgaria etc. No immigrant community has carved their niche in USA as the jews have, probably with the exception of the Irish immigrants. Notable among them are the famous Scientist Albert Einstein who came to America when Hitler started persecuting Jews in Germany. Many worked as scientists in the Manhatten project developing nuclear technology. Jewish immigrants who desperately fled Europe to America in rat infested ships to escape Nazi gas chambers lived in soup kitchen after their arrival in ports. They learned A, B, C, D literally to learn English as they were mostly from Mainland Europe with little or no knowledge of English. They worked as delivery guys, cab drivers etc. One child of a Philadelphia cab driver was Sheldon Adelson who died as a Billionaire Casino Mogul. Another Jewish guy who once delivered newspapers died few years back as the owner of one of the biggest Poultry chain in America. Even the grandfather of Marc Zuckerberg was a Bulgarian jew who emigrated to USA in 1940s. There are many more success stories of jews as entrepreneurs which beyond the scope of this blog. 

Coming back to the current Iran imbroglio, both Israel and America are taking advantage of the existing Sunni and Shia divide in the Middle East. The influential and powerful Sunni Islamic world led by Saudi Arabia, UAE, Qatar etc are conspicuously silent at Shia Iran's battering. Except Russia to certain extent, no world power has come in support of Iran. But that doesn't mean that Iran can't be a nuisance to America and its interests world over. It can choke the oil supply at the Strait of Hermoz in its backyard, shooting up the global oil prize and creating havoc in world economy. 

It is America who time and again meddles in the Middle East and continue to create a mess there. In 1953 it removed the elected Iranian government to replace it with its stooge - the Dictator Shah Reza Pallavi. He created as much public anger to harbinger a Mullah led revolution in 1979 followed by a theocracy. Then it was Saddam Hussain who kept Iran under control by fighting a war with its Persian neighbor with tacit US support until he went against the American interests. Then USA removed Saddam only to release the lease around Iran's neck who stepped in to fill the vacuum left after Saddam's removal to expand its control over Iraq and beyond. Then Iran started extending its tentacles to finance Hamas and Hezbollah who were perennial thorns on Israel's butt. And now we are again in this mess as Israel attacked Iran,, followed by US and don't know how long this war is going to continue. A war is always unpredictable, bringing in nothing but loss of innocent lives, followed by destruction. God only knows how this thing is going to end. So be afraid, be very afraid !!!

Cholera in Odisha

 Latest news from my home state back home is about Cholera - an epidemic thought to have been extinct decades ago is now back as several cases has been detected in Bhadrakh and Jaipur districts. A dreaded diarrhea and dehydration causing disease, Cholera along with Small Pox used to eliminate families in matter of days and thought to be eliminated after the arrival of vaccination is raising its ugly head again.

During my childhood, I often used to spend long Summer vacations in my native village, not far from the temple town of Puri. One commonly used GALI (rebuke) in our village was BAADIPODA. Growing up in Bhubaneswar, I wasn't familiar with this slang, which literally means "Barbecued from Cholera" - a death wish curse to perish from a malignant, dangerous disease of "BADI" or Cholera, dysentry followed by dehydration due to a disease which was a scourge only few decades ago.

It's not Condom, but Cholera which kept India's population under control couple of generations back. Life then was a matter of surviving the next cholera season (small pox was a close second). Both wiped out entire homes, leaving many rudderless in matter of days. Many of my grandparent's siblings and cousins perished from Cholera. So much so that, after cremating one, there will be more dead bodies in pipeline to be picked up along with firewoods. Three of my grandpa's Cousins, 2 of his sisters and a brother, all perished from Cholera within a time frame of 48 hours.

Lack of knowledge and awareness - like soaking rice with water for PAKHALA (A staple Odia diet) from the same pond where folks washed their bottoms post ablution took a toll on hygiene and helped in spreading the disease. But  superstitions galored. During the epidemics, the entire village would shut down after dark. No sooner the twilight sets in, than the villagers liberally filled huge earthen pots outside with PITHA (cakes made from rice and grams), PANAA (a sweetened puree made from yogurt and fruits like Banana and Stone Apples or BEL) for the consumption of BAADI THAKURANI (Cholera Goddess) or Maa SITHALA (Small Pox Goddess).

Job done, the villagers rushed back to home never to dare venture out untill dawn, lest they earn the wrath of the Goddess. Not sure how far the diety was appeased, but the stray dogs of the village had a field day. They put on a lot of weight and seemed healthier and happier than their human counterparts.

Post independence, vaccinations virtually wiped out many communicable diseases. Since the MAHAMAARI or Epidemics like Cholera and Small Pox became curable, we are perpetually fighting a losing battle against the menace of explosive population growth. The term BADIPODA was relegated to the Museum of Slangs. Cancer Poda or AIDS Poda, both incurable diseases are better substitutes.

A dose of Cholera inoculations I received during my childhood was no fun. I have a very faint memory of small pox vaccine which was tattooed on my hand, the scar of which is still visible. But my first vivid memory is getting a shot (called injection in India) of cholera vaccination when I was in primary school. As the D-Day arrived I was scared to death. After getting the shot I mistakenly assumed that the ordeal was over. I was proved wrong. By evening I was running a high temperature and could hardly lift my left arm which was hurting like hell. My grandma gave me LUNA PODA SEKA, gently sponged the vicinity of the tiny orifice on my arm pierced by the needle with heated pad of salt wrapped in a piece of cloth. The pain subsided after couple of days. A piece of paper called Inoculation Certificate is all I got after bearing all the physical & mental agony.

Little I knew that this Certificate will come handy a few months later when I was on a bus to Puri days before the famous RATH YATRA. On the outskirts of the city near Chandanpur, the bus was stopped by a battalion of health officials eagerly waiting with syringe on hand. It was time to give cholera shots. I proudly brandished my inoculation certificate and they spared me.

Those who didn't meekly disembarked and lined up for the shots. A few who tried to flee were immediately chased down by the officials. Some escaped by wading over the paddy fields, melting away behind the coconut groves. Those not so lucky were grabbed by their collars and a DAMPHANA (the Odia term for thick needles used to sew jute sacks) sized needle was stabbed to their bottom with great force. They grimaced and screamed in pain, limping back to bus in full view of passengers peeping through the window. I was watching Wild Wild West enacted on the east coast of India.

Things are much better now and folks are able to overcome the fear of syringe. I think it is wise to take a Cholera booster shot to upgrade the last ones our generation took in the 1970s as it may not be still effective. Never know if your next GUP CHUP (As GOLGAPPA or PANI PURI is called in Odia) session could land you in a hospital. Prevention is better than cure and better safe than sorry.

 

Foreign policy and human relationships

 Many of us have this question in our mind that in spite of Pakistan being the breeding ground of terrorism, why countries still support it and remain neutral whenever India retaliates militarily or diplomatically being a victim of terrorism directed from across the border. At best these nations do perfunctory, statutory condemnation, preferring to call terrorists as gunmen.

I am no foreign policy expert, but here is my 2 cents of common sense, based upon what commoners like me encounter and familiar in our world every day of our life. I remember a scene from iconic Amir Khan starrer movie - "3 IDIOTS". When the comic character Chatur was inadvertently making fun of the college principal by reading from an altered script, the Minister sitting next to him was bursting with laughter. But no sooner the fun was directed at him, than he became serious and went over the stage to kick the poor reciter's butt. In the 1980s there used to be a saying in US State Department about Saddam Hussain who then was friendly towards America - "He is a bastard, but our bastard", until he went out of hand. In our common men's (women's) world, we keep relationships with folks with the full knowledge of the fact that they are bastards, but are our bastards, until one day they kick our butt really hard.

Like good girls get attracted to bad boys, sometime good people are attracted to bad folks. They are kept in good humor as long as they harm others, but not us. We only realize the hard way only when our butt is at the receiving end. Until then, we care less. I am reminded of the proverbial tale - "If you keep snakes in backyard thinking that it will bite only your neighbors, then you live in a fool's paradise. One day it will turn its head at you". Similarly, we in our small real life keep snakes in our backyard for various reasons - personal, social and financial. We care less as long as the snake keeps biting our neighbors fully aware that one day it could strike its ugly fang at us and inject its toxic venom into our veins. By the time we realize, as per this Odia proverb "NEDI GUDA KAHUNI KU BOHI JAITHIBA (The jaggery from the palm would have reached elbow), which simply means it's a case of too late.

We, who live in cities and villages encounter such human conundrum on a regular basis. Now consider the world as a global village. Foreign policy and international relationships is based on hard realpolitik, not emotions where a nation's self interest is primary and preserved at any cost. Like in real life friends turn enemies and enemies turn into friends like drop of a hat. A la sinusoidal waves, changes happen fast and relationships swing to and fro like a pendulum. Stray dogs who always fight but make up and make love during their mating season, repeating every year. We have seen humans repeat the same behavior everywhere and I am sure I am not the only one who noticed this.

Now looking in a holistic way, Pakistan is not only a bastard, it is an important bastard to USA and the other countries which matter in international politics, China, Russia, Middle East, NATO etc for various reasons - strategic and military. That is simply because of Pakistan's very geographic position and it having nuclear weapons. However brilliant our Foreign policy may be, when push comes to shove, like we just saw in the recent 3 days war between India and Pakistan, the rest of the world chose to remain neutral. China, Turkey, Azerbaijan (it hardly matters anyway) sided with Pakistan, overtly or covertly, with China providing real time satellite imagery to Pakistan. For their own selfish reasons those world powers who matter still continue to hyphenate between India - Pakistan. Though we would love to see this change, it is unlike in unforeseen future. Foreign policy is filled with hypocrisy and double standards. It always was and going to stay same way, whether it's foreign relationships or in our daily life.

Raja festival of Odisha - 2025

 The month of June is regarded as the beginning of summer in USA, whereas in Odisha, my home state back home in India it marks the beginning of the end of the blistering, hot summer season. RAJA SANKRANTI is a popular festival during this time of the year - especially in the long, culturally rich coastal Odisha welcoming the monsoon rains which brings down the scorching heat. The festival invariably comes in mid June per the Gregorian calendar and marks the beginning of the summer crop plantation, especially rice. Raja festival isn't native to Western Odisha and frugally celebrated there.

The festival of Raja is also considered as the harbinger of the cooler rainy season, as the South West monsoon rolls over the state from the North East, lashing it with silvery stripes of rain. The nimbus cloud bearing dark sky gets alive with the spectacle of flashes of white lightning as if zillions of flashlights are switched simultaneously in the sky, a la the zigzag lights on circus stage. During daytime the rain is often followed by the sky getting rewarded in the form of a garland of rainbow. These long awaited rains bring much needed relief from the long streak of heat and prickly humidity, healing the parched earth dried from a long, extended Indian summer.

As the silvery monsoon rains ornament the thick humid air, the perfume of PODA PITHA (baked rice cake) pervades the environment. Young and old alike play on DOLI (swings), with men snarling their blackened teeth and girls exposing red pouty lips - post effect from chewing PAAN (betel leaves filled with colored condiments and scented tobacco for those habitual with the stuff). The drenched earth, now softened by the fresh summer rains on parched earth accompanied by petrichor, gets ready for tilling, marking the beginning of the KHARIP crop farming season when water supply gets plenty following the monsoon rains. 

I still cherish the memories of my trips to our ancestral village near Puri for a fun filled lunch of GHEE (clarified butter) laced NADIA KHECHUDI (coconut sprinkes sweet rice), thick sweet DAAL (Lentil soup), an array of Curries and fries, washed down with KHIRI (sweetened skimmed milk). It would invariably be followed by an afternoon session on the RAJA DOLI (swing). Dinner would be PITHA (Rice cakes) and more varieties of PITHA - the icing on the cake would be occasional PODA PITHA made from ripened TAALA, fruit from tall palm trees, as a fitting finale to a day of RAJA MAUJA (fun).

I remember the tall palm tree standing taller than the surrounding Coconut trees behind our house in our village, right behind our home facing a green pond perennially covered with a cessful of watercress in its dark, stenchful barely visible water where locals wash their utensil as well as their buttocks post defecation. During the early monsoon close to the 3 day long Raja festival these large brownish-black color fruits from the palm tree, looking like coconut sized plums with a yellowish orange pulp ripen and fall off from the tree. Many roll into the green swamp. Those who survive make their way to make PODA PITHA of different flavor. I was sad to hear that particular palm tree ruptured from its middle as it couldn't withstand the devastating force from Cyclone Fani a few years back, closing a chapter of the history of my ancestry.

A few summers ago in Odisha, on the morning of RAJA Festival I switched on the TV. A promotional song LEMBU, ATI CHUPUDILE PITA (Excessively squeezed lemon tastes bitter) from an Odia movie scheduled for the RAJA release (same as prominent Bollywood movies go for Diwali Release) was playing on screen as an Odia actress danced to the tune of a song from that movie. 

This was followed by an interview of the actress. It didn't go unnoticed to me that a discussion about an Odia movie, between an Odia anchor and a leading Odia actress getting released on a leading Odia festival, was taking place with a typical accented Odia with almost an equitable spread of 50% Odia, 30% English and 20% Hindi. Speaking in pure Odia is a sign of being a GAUNLIA (from village origin) these days, whereas talking accented Odia sounds so cool. A lot of billboards and commercials on local newspapers take pride in pronouncing RAJO instead of RAJA. 

A person usually speaks with an accent when speaking a language other than his or her mother tongue. Odisha is perhaps the only place on earth, where some (certainly not all) natives not only love to speak their own mother tongue with an accent, also chose to write it in another accent, e.g, RAJA as RAJO, MANSA as MANSHO bear testimony of it. Wish you a Happy RAJA (certainly not RAJO) from the bottom of my heart. Have a feel and fill of RAJA MAUJA - bound by the rules of social distancing as Covid may be down but not out as it has started showing its ugly head again.

Happy birthday Binod Kanungo - writer of Gyana Mandala

 Today is the birthday of one of Odisha's forgotten heroes. His name is Binod Kanungo, the man who wrote GYANA MANDALA or Encyclopedia in Odia.

Born this day in the year 1912, Mr. Binod Kanungo wasn't highly educated, nor he earned any fancied degree. But he was a brilliant student and a voracious reader. Like many famous creative persons he was a school dropout, though he left pursuing formal education for a different reason. Inspired by JATIYA KABI (National Poet) Bira Kishore he decided to drop out of school on 10th of April, 1930 to join the Freedom movement against the British on full fledge.

After being released from the jail, in post independent India he had the option of plunging into the more lucrative profession of politics. But spreading knowledge was his motto, so he settled down in Cuttack which was the happening place Odisha at that time, a counterpart of our present day Bhubaneswar. To give him company was his frugal possession of a 1 Rupee note, a cotton shirt, a MASINA (plain mattress) and his most prized material - An array of books.

He never pursued formal education, nor thrived for a degree which could have landed him a decent job those days. A la the famous dropouts Bill Gates, Steve Jobs or Mark Zuckerberg, he went above and beyond doing a job. He wanted to do something more contributory and beneficial to the society.

So he started writing GYANA MANDALA or an Encyclopedia in January, 1954 - a first of its kind in Odia and in Odisha. It took him six long years to collect, compile and present all the necessary information in an age when Internet and Google were strictly fantasy. On 2nd of December, 1960 his baby - PRATHAMA SANSKALANA or the first edition the first ever Odia encyclopedia was born.

Winner of the Odia Sahitya (literature) Academy awards and Civilian Award Padmashree, he carved his niche before passing away in June, 1990 - the same month he was born at the age of 78. May Odisha produce more pioneers like him.

The Odisha Bengal marital alliance

The hot news from back home is Pinaki Mishra, a multiple time Member of Parliament from Puri constituency, the constituency of my native village got into a marital alliance with the flamboyant female MP Mohua Moitra from Odisha's neighboring state of Bengal. 

Earlier Raja (Kings) and Maharaja (Emperor) used to marry their daughters and sisters off to their counterparts to bolster goodwill between the Kingdoms in order to buy peace or further strengthen their empire. These days Odisha and Bengal are at loggerheads due to government of Bengal's plan to construct a Jagannath temple at Digha near Odisha's border. This is seen by Odias as a needless attempt by Bengal to claim Lord Jagannath who is very close to the heart of Odias as their own and reduce the importance of the centuries old Jagannath Dham in Puri to just another temple. Hope this marriage will go a long way to bring peace and harmony between the people of Odisha and Bengal.

Marriages between Odias and Bengalis aren't anything new. Almost all of these marriages fall into the category of love marriages (The term love marriage is a misnomer as in many cases it is self negotiated or self arranged marriage of convenience rather than any kind of true love associated with it. The usual disclaimers apply). Most of these marriages to my knowledge are between Odia girls and Bengali boys. It probably got to do with the prevalent myth chose that the soft spoken, "Bhadralok" (gentleman) type, wife worshipping/fearing Bengali boys make perfect husbands. That's why I know more Odia girls end up marrying Bengali boys than the other way round. 

Odias and Bengalis are lot similar. I have many Bengalis friends. The states of Odisha and Bengal bordering each on the eastern coromondel coast of Bay of Bengal have a lot of similarities - from the dress they wear, the language they speak. They share common food habits, festivals, culture and traditions. Many call each other's state their home. There is hardly any Odia who has never been to Calcutta, nor any Bengali who has never visited Puri, a favorite holiday destination of the neighborhood state from all classes. Each year Millions of Bengalis throng the temple town of Puri, enjoying its pretty, pristine sandy sea beach. You can say Bengali is the 2nd language of Puri as the locals speak it in typical Odia accent to communicate with the Bengali tourists. Shops and restaurants all over the town have signs and hoardings written in Bengali. If for some reason Bengalis decide to stop coming to Puri, rest assured the township's economy will collapse like pack of a cards, at least temporarily.

Odias and Bengalis look very similar. Few years back a PANDA (Priest) in Puri mistook me for Bengali and started chasing me - "OH DADA, ESON ESON (Bro, come with me). I immediately switched to Puri accent, "HAIYE MALIKE, AME PIRA BALI SAHI LOKA" (Boss, I am from the local Bali Sahi, adjacent to the temple) faking the Puri accent, for being originally from that area. The Panda got confused and disappointed for dealing with a local chap, a stingy fellow Brahmin, not a vulnerable tourist to be ripped off. Still not giving up on me he made a last attempt - "HAU, MAHAPURU 10 TA TANKA DIA", "OK, master. Pay me 10 rupee in the name of God". I replied back, "Bhaina (my elder bro). I don't have a single penny in my pocket". As I moved on, I heard our frustrated Panda bad mouthing behind me -"KANGALA KAHASE AYA", "where from this impoverished bankrupt guy has come" ! (We Odias switch to Hindi when we get excited). It was quite a funny experience for me.

Years ago amidst skyrocketing prices of potatoes in Odisha the Mamata Banerjee government in Bengal, a high producing state of this vegetable regulated its supply to other states to control prices in their local market. Meantime in Odisha, the Chief Minister Naveen Patnaik who has good terms with West Bengal Chief Minister, wrote her a letter seeking her intervention to ensure a smooth supply of potatos from Bengal as it has stopped supply of the tubers to other states.
Now coming back to potatos, in Odia and Bengali we have a term called ALUDOSH (the potato flaw). Pronounced in different accents in Odia and Bengali, they mean the same connotation in both languages. Overall it denotes Idiosyncrasies or unusually irritating attitude, usually lascivious behavior by men towards women, though not just limited to it. That is exactly seemed to be happening between the both neighboring states. The Potato politics due to the ALUDOSH from both sides have stung the consumers for whom the vegetable is a staple side item to their primarily rice based diet.

Price of potato had reportedly shot into Rs.50 per kilo. It made the Odias mad, threatening Bengal for not releasing enough of the tuber to its neighboring states. Bengalis weren't too happy about it. There is an age old saying in Africa "When two elephants make love or war it is the grass which suffers". It is always the hapless consumers who bear the brunt. The brewing potato fight between the states could have been stopped by making them agree to rather brew some potato based Vodka. That can sooth their nerves by sitting together and having a friendly chat imbibing that fiery drinks together.

At that time, I suggested a solution to this ALUDOSH. Pappu (Naveen) and Didi (Mamata), the most eligible bachelors from the states should have tied the marrital knot. It didn't happen. Now that another celebrity alliance have actually tied the knot, hopefully this marriage between Mishra and Moitra will go a long way soothing the nerves between Odias and Bengalis, from claiming the patent of Rasagola to Lord Jagannath.

 

Ides of June

 The first week of June also reminds me of couple of events of far reaching consequences. One is the Operation Blue Star, which happened this week exactly 41 years ago in the year 1984.

Congress party which perfected the art of mishandling crisis (Bangladesh war of 1971 being the exception), completely blew the Punjab situation out of proportion by catapulting Bhindranwale, a Sikh with a flowing beard and aquiline nose from a small time preacher into a big time martyr. (BJP is fast catching up with Congress in mishandling issues - the longer is its tenure in power, the more screw ups are in making. But that's a different story for a different day). 

As Khushwant Singh mentioned in his autobiography, Giani Zail Singh, India's ex Home Minister and President famously described Bhindranwale as SADDE DANDA or "our stick" to beat the Akalis with. Congress party wanted to use him as an useful idiot to settle score against its opponent. Eventually the so called useful idiot became a genie escaped from the bottle and the DANDA became a huge stick to cause pain to Congress and the nation's backside. 

Bhindranwale's myth still lives on. It's not unusual to find T-shirts figuring his turbaned head and cassettes containing his speech in parts of Punjab, especially in the rural areas. His simple but powerful one liners like 'JO DARTA WOH SIKH NAHI AUR JO SIKH HAI WOH DARTA NAHI' (one who fears is not a Sikh, one who is a Sikh never fears) caught the imagination of the Sikh youth.

The violence and senseless killings reached its peak in the late 1980s when the Punjab problem seemed beyond solution. I met an Odia guy, who was lucky to survice one such attacks in JCT Mills, Phagwara. One night, a bunch of terrorists entered the plant compound and wrapped up those from outside of Punjab they could get their hands on. Then they forced them to stand in a line and shot them randomly. 

But before doing their cold blooded target practice, those heartless folks took some time to play with their victims who were crying and begging for their lives. Our Odia guy was standing in a dark corner. In the commotion, he decided to take his chances. He slowly stepped backwards, jumped off a wall and ran away, luckily surviving the volley of bullets sent after him. The darkness and his luck saved him. The next morning (Night time bus services were banned in Punjab those days) he left Punjab once and forever, determined not to return ever again. His story sent chills down my spine.

Sending out the Army into the Golden Temple to flush out terrorists was akin to bringing down a house to get rid of rat menace. Operation Blue Star on 4th June had its series of consequences. Prime Minister Indira Gandhi was assassinated by her own Sikh bodyguards not long after the operation to flush out terrorists from Golden Temple. Khushwant Singh who once used to be close to her family, especially to her younger son Sanjay Gandhi, but later fell out of her favor after Sanjay's death in an air crash, still wanted to visit her place to pay his last respect, in spite of their estrangement. When he was about to leave he got a call from a well wisher - "Sardarjee (as Sikhs are addressed), have you lost your mind by any chance ? Don't ever dare going out now. The goons of Congress are dragging Sikhs out of vehicles, roasting them alive. They are going to make a Sikh Kabaab (barbecue) out of you". 

Indira Gandhi's death was followed by killing of many innocent Sikhs who were buthered by hired Congress goons. The Sikhs retaliated by killing many innocent Hindus in Punjab as the terrorism continued for many more years to come.The other event in June is the 36th Anniversary of the Tiananman Square massacre in China. The famous picture from the 1st week of June 1989, of the lone young man standing bravely in front of a Tank carries a lot of connotations.

It is an image of defiance and a strong desire for freedom by the contemporary youth. Sadly the Chinese government effectively quashed the freedom movement. The movement became dormant, but is far from dead. Quarter of a century later in that nation well connected with microbloggers it's sitting on a tinterbox who knows one day could implode any moment. History could be made any time. One never knows.

Memories from Graduation party

 Summer in America is time for young minds graduating from Schools and Colleges, followed by Graduation parties to celebrate the occasion. I am reminded of one such graduation party evening couple of years ago. The crowd consisted mostly of PIOs (Persons of Indian Origin) - Gujaratis, Punjabis and South Indians. Incidentally we were the only Odia family present at the occasion.

My son got busy with his friends and my wife found ladies for company. I was quietly sipping a large Mango Mohito cocktail at a corner by with me and myself as company. Sensing my loneliness a guy approached me, sitting next to my chair. After we exchanged perfunctory pleasantries, as normally Desis (an ubiquitous nicknamed for folks of Indian origin in America, often in a deregatory way) do, the Gujarati man asked which part of India I was from. I replied - "I am an Odia from Odisha". He appeared confused. I continued - "Have you heard of Jagannath temple in Puri. I am originally from that place", hoping it could ring a bell. 

"Oh, Jagannath Dham ?" - He exclaimed and went further "We have the Lord's Rath Yatra in Ahmedabad every year." I responded - "Of course, you do. But Puri Jagannath Rath Yatra is very special. About a million congregate on the world famous occasion. Puri is in Odisha". He said - " Oh, is it so ! I thought Puri is located in Bengal". 

The ignorance about Odisha and Odias wasn't new to me. In one of my trips to India, inside my Paris to Delhi flight I was sitted next to a Punjabi lady who was traveling with her baby. During our tete-a-tete she mentioned that she lives in Boston and glad that her long journey ends at Delhi. I said to her - "I am not so fortunate. It will be at least a five hour arduous wait in the middle of night with jet lag at the Delhi Airport before I catch the morning flight to Bhubaneswar". 

Now I could see surprise in her eyes - "Bhubaneswar ? Where is it and how far from Delhi ?" I replied - "It's the capital of the state of Odisha". "I am sorry, I have no idea where is Odisha", she said. "Well, do you know Jagannath Puri ? " was my response thinking the better known Lord Jagannath temple of Puri will at least ring a bell. The Punjabi lady's eyes sparkled a bit as she suddenly came with an answer - "I have a relative Jagannath Puri who lives in Greater Kailash, Delhi". I got my answer. 

It was getting late in the evening at the party. The western sky suddenly turned darker, cool wind started blowing as harbinger of impending rain, brutely forcing the giant crimson son in the horizon into hibernation as constant drizzle forces us to get inside the house. I had already imbibed couple of large glasses of Mango flavored Mohito cocktails. My bladder was full. I went inside looking for bathroom and found it locked and occupied. I checked back minutes later. The bathroom was still occupied. My bladder was about to burst and I desperately needed to open my valve. The sole unisex rest room kept on being occupied, testing my patience. 

Twilight had given away to darkness outside as rain had tapered into light drizzle. Looking around and making sure no one was noticing, I ventured to a corner of the fence to relieve myself, whistling a song, letting out a jet stream. As a fitting finale I was about to shrug off the residual piss - a rare pleasure to urinate under "MUKTA AKASHA" (open sky) in America, looking around to make sure no one was noticing my sneaky escapade. 

So I thought ! All of a sudden I heard a growling sound of a big, burly canine across neighbor's fence. It was followed by loud barking, only the wooden Deewar (fence) separating us. Not impressed with me encroaching its neighborhood territory, the doggie was standing in two legs on the opposite site of the fence, snarling, baring its fangs just inches away from me peeing and him peeping through the the narrow gap. The fence saved my day. Otherwise a scene of the doggie pulling me, catching me pants down and I screaming at my top of my voice trying to extricate myself from the mess would have been enacted. If someone recorded the act, the video would have got multi million hits on YouTube, making me an overnight superstar celebrity. It could have made headlines in the local Newspaper "Cocktail led to Cock snatched away by a doggie". Glad it wasn't my day being a celebrity. Since then every graduation party I attend or is invited to reminds me of this memorable incident.