How two rainstorms shaped history

How two rainstorms decided the fate of British Empire by defining the outcome of two major wars and the future of two British colonies on both sides of the world.

The Englishmen were lucky from the outset of the Battle of Plassey fought in a mango orchard of Bengal. It was the month of June and a heavy pre-monsoon downpour wetted the gunpowder of the Army of local Nawab Siraj-ud-Daula who was preparing to take the British Army head on. His generals were foolish not keep the gunpowder dry from the pouring rain. In contrast, Robert Clive, the master strategist leading the much smaller British army had the foresight to cover his gunpowder stock with rain proof tarpaulin.

No sooner the rain cleared and the war started, than English cannons came blazing in full force. The Nawab's army already weakened by treachery of Mir Jaffer and his soggy gunpowder failing to ignite, the helpless cannons were witness to a crushing defeat of the Nawab's army. This victory was a major step towards the establishment of the British empire in India. The year was 1757.

Exactly 20 years later in 1777 on other side of the globe, the same British were engaged in a fight to the finish with the American army led by the legendary George Washington near a city to be later named after him close to river Potomac. Washington was a bit nervous due to the size and sophistication of the professional, experienced and battle tested well trained British Army and the French help on its way was days away.

Just before the battle began, the wind started gathering speed. The sky started turning into gray, suddenly becoming dark with lightning as powerful Nor'ester approched which is very typical of North Eastern America during summer. The Armies from both sides failed to see the gathering storm and were rattled, but it was the British standing on a lower ground were at the worst receiving end. Their powerful but heavy artillery and cannon got buried, stuck in slush mud. The horses and men were scattered helter skelter. Damage caused by the weather was devastating enough to stop the war not for hours but for several days before the French troops arrived from the North to bolster the American troops. Boisterous with the new enforcement, the Americans led by an able General in George Washington managed to defeat Lord Cornwallis's British Army in a bitterly fought yet divisive war which led to the foundation of the United States of America.

A frustrated, dejected Lord Cornwallis under whose wings the British faced a rare defeat at that time, later went to India to establish the British empire there, its crown colony by defeating Mysore's Tipu Sultan few years later. This is how two rainstorms in 12 years shaped history of the world separated by 12 time zones.

Happy birthday Binod Kanungo

 Today is the birthday of another 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 fancy 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 in full fledge the Freedom movement against British.

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 cultural epicenter, a happening place Odisha at that time, the state's capital and a counterpart of our present day Bhubaneswar. To give him company was his frugal possession of a 1 Rupee note (bill), 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 forget Internet and Google, electricity was strictly fantasy and out of reach for a rural centric Odisha. On December 2, 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. Happy 114th to the creator of the first Encyclopedia in Odisha.

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 42 years ago in the year 1984. The Congress party which perfected the art of mishandling crisis (Bangladesh war of 1971 being the exception), completely blew the situation in Punjab at that time 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 Akali opponents. 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 butt.

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 of that generation.

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 quickly 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. He just ran away and 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 home 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 butchered 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 37th 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. So beware of the Ides of June !

FATURANANDA - the forgetten Odia writer

 He is a fellow Gemini like me. I doubt many from current generation would remember him today. A talented but underrated writer he was born on this day more than a century ago in Odisha. He possessed the typical traits of a Geminian, being an excellent communicator and artistically inclined since childhood. His real name was Rama Chandra Mishra, but went by his pen name FATURANANDA - a writer of Odia short short stories who has physically blind.

Born in Jhanjhirmangala, Cuttack he was a non conformist and his writing mostly satirical. He suffered from a disease during his childhood which took out his eyesight. Growing in an era when Odia literature was not appreciated a whole lot, nor could buy a decent, comfortable living - he vented his frustration and cynicism in his writing using satire as a weapon. His language was lucid with a unique flow, his black humor and sheer poignance driving the images of his characters. 

Faturananda's description in minute details of the ethos and pathos of life was amazing - especially of the human feelings. He was very young when he lost his eyesight, so could never fell in love at firstsight. He described the feeling of love in his unique way, the way a blind man sees it - "PETA RU GOTE GARAM PABAN BAHARI CHHATI KU KUTU KUTU KALA PARI ABHINGAYA" (Love is the feeling of a warm air emanating from the stomach and tickling your heart). I fell in love with that expression of a person who could see his feelings which he was unable to see through his eyes.

In one of his short stories, a talented but failed painter was surprised at the sudden adulation in his art gallery. He painted a portrait of BUDHHA DEBA (Lord Goutam Buddha). But suddenly he noticed some changes on his painting. Without his knowledge, the night before his infant son played with the paint brush, crisis crossing Lord Buddha's painting with his playful hue straight out of his shit. A connoisseur of art interpreted the brownish shit coated portrait as BUDDHA DEBA (a Gentle God) turning into KRUDHA DEBA (An Angry God) and its aroma depicting the non-violence protagonist Buddha's disgust at the prevalent go of the world. The poor and struggling arist got a hefty price when that painting was auctioned, least knowing that the credit should goes to his child's fresh shit on his canvas.

There is this story behind his unusual pen name FATURANANDA. Every evening he and his friends used to gather together (called GULLI KHATTI or light hearted chatting in local parlance) inside a dilapited room of a local Club in Cuttack. In one such Gulli Khatti gatherings everyone was asked to give a nickname to the other guy ending with the word "Nanda". The participants gave each other a name like Prema (love) - Nanda, Dharma (righteous) - Nanda, Dhana (wealth) - Nanda, depending on their proficiency in love, spirituality and wealth. Nobody could coin the appropriate name for him, so he came up with FATURANANDA - which basically means nothing. But the name stuck to him and he used it as his pen name. 

His Biography "MO PHUTA DANGA RA KAHANI" (The story of my punctured Boat) was a bare all of the morbid milieu and his struggle in a feudal, poverty stricken Odia society of the time known to be a graveyard for any kind of creative pursuit. I believe he was the proverbial "BANA MALLI BANA RE JHADI JAE" - "Jasmin flower in the forest falls off without its fragrance ever getting noticed".

Mortal man with immortal contribution. My two cent of tribute on his 111th birthday - to the man who is one of many talented Odias ignored by the sands of time, hoping it inspires the current generation and many more generations to come.

American vs Indian (British) Format

 Am sure those who travel to India from USA must have encountered this situation. Foremost is the driving on the left side with the driving wheel on right side of the vehicles. It always baffles my son when he travels to India, so also the electrical switches in India working reversely.

During my India trips, especially on the initial days after my arrival, I have opened the door on the driver's side of car by mistake to invite a hearty laughter, sometimes a muffled giggle if the person observing my plight chose not to be impolite. Using mobile instead of cell phone is another one. I always feel the mobile sounds more appropriate as you are immobile without a mobile phone these days. Once I left my house without a mobile and felt that as I have left my liver behind akin to the wise monkey (of PANCHATANTRA fame) who faked to his Crocodile friend that he left his liver behind when the giant lizard wanted to eat his simian buddy's sweet liver in the middle of the river. It was a sweet relief for me when I got my cellphone (oops Mobile) back - the feeling was no less sweeter than the elusive sweet liver of monkey cherished by the greedy Crocodile.

Writing dates is another area where I stumble. June 12th, I write as 06-14  in America (which would be rather 6th December in India). That is because dates are written in DD-MM-YYYY format in India, a British legacy while in America it is MM-DD-YYYY format. Inadvertently I have wasted several checks for writing wrong dates on them. A simple mistake like this in a bank can cost you an additional unwarranted trip to go back to the line (it is Queue in India) and wait for minutes before your turn.

In India my son mentally convert temperature from Centigrade to Fahrenheit to get a hang of the heat, similarly convert kilometers to miles to make out the distance. For me it doesn't matter so much as I am more familiar with MKS (Meter Kilogram Second) system than my son. When I came to US, I was doing exactly the opposite, converting from FPS (Foot Pound Second) to MKS. Living in America for 30 years now, I am pretty much familiar with the FPS system.

Weather is a favourite topic of discussion in America. Many conversations commence discussing about the current weather situation.
A typical American husband when returns home from work addresses his wife, "Honey what's for the dinner and how is the weather ?" Talking about weather is very much ingrained as part and parcel of American life.

During my initial days in America when my coworkers talked of temperature being in 70s, 80s, 90s and so on, my first thought was that they were talking about years like 70s for the 1970s, 80s for 1980s etc. Eventually I came to know that they are talking about the temperature in Fahrenheit. One afternoon when temperature reached 90 degrees Fahrenheit (32°Centigrade) in Philadelphia, heat was the talk of the town. I had to mentally convert from Fahrenheit to Centigrade to get a hang of the heat, similarly convert miles to kilometers to make out the distance. 

Another contrast I experienced while driving years ago from Seattle to Vancouver. No sooner we crossed the US border and entered into Canada, than the speed limit changed from 65 mph to 110 kmph. My first thought was Canadians drive at a greater speed until I realized the change in the Unit of measurement. 
Now 30 years down the road when I go to India part of the reverse cultural shock I get is to convert from metric to FPS (Foot Pound System) though it's not too hard to calculate. For me life has come to a full circle, same way you rotate the Globe a full circle you see India and US on the opposite sides. 

Several years ago I was on a flight to Las Vegas. An American couple in front of me were struggling to convert from Centigrade to Fahrenheit. I did it for them in seconds using the classic formula C/5 = (F-32)/9. "Oh, you are a genius" - out poured their impromptu compliment. As if they encountered a Math wizard. I enjoyed my two minutes of fame.

You call Rose by any different name it's perfume remains the same. You call it 100 degree Fahrenheit, or 38 degree centigrade the heat feels the same. 100 miles is no less than 160 km. If what's in a name, then what's in an Unit ? The whole world has switched to Metric system, well except America and Britain. They are the only ones I believe who still use foot and pound as measuring units.  Apart from the English language this is probably the only thing the Americans retained from their one time occupiers whom they drove away and gained their independence. Otherwise, the unfollowed everything British - they drive on the right side of the road, electric switches are opposite, they use date in MM-DD-YY format and many more. 

Birthday 2026

 Thanks everyone for your wonderful birthday wishes. Completely flabbergasted, floored and flattered, pleasantly overwhelmed by multiple number of birthday wishes on social media and still counting. Thanks for those being so creative to create a story for me on Facebook for this occasion. I can only write crap, can't be creative like you all.

Not much of a milestone commemorative type of person, for me my birthday and marriage anniversary is just another day. This year's birthday was no exception. On top of that, on a sombre note it came at a time close to the anniversary of my mother's passing away couple of years ago. It will be my 3rd birthday without her to whom I owe my existence. She would invariably be the first person to call and wish me, reminiscing about that very day more than half a century ago. Her is the wish I am going to miss forever for the rest of my life. 

Per Western Astrology I have the same zodiac Sun sign Gemini as every one else who is born between May 21 and June 20. Geminians are considered to be good communicators and tend to be popular in social circles. At the same time Geminians are known to be fickle, restless and mercurial in nature. It is the sign of twins. Apart from getting along with all star signs, Geminians get the best along with Librans and Aquarians. 

On a lighter note Geminians tend to be popular among the opposite sex, the famous Geminian examples are John F Kennedy, my teenage crush Brooke Shields, Clint Eastwood, Marilyn Monroe, Angelina Jolie, Donald Trump, Steffi Graf just vindicate this fact. Not necessarily all Geminians are Casanova, but many I know having this star sign end up in love marriages (a term used in India for those marrying after falling in love or in self negotiated marriages). Being a girl shy person, I am probably an exception to this very Geminian rule.

During my childhood, on our birthdays my mom would pray and cook KHEER (a sweet dish) for us siblings. An additional luxury could be a special dish from her kitchen. Those days birthdays were tame affairs sans balloons, cake cuttings or any kind of fanfare. It's still the same for me. We grew up in a collective society where our identity is more qualified by lineage, village, caste, community and so on (many South Indians and Punjabis have their village names tagged to their name. For example - for P. Ravi Kumar, P could be the first initial of the man's native village. For a Sikh named Jagjit Singh TALWANDI, the last part is the name of his PIND, or village). I or Me as an individual always came last after the society, village, city or district. Unlike the current generation, it was the norm for most parents of our time to have more than two kids. On top of that many lived in joint families who shared the same roof and celebrated thirteen festivals in twelve months. Birthdays of an individual rarely made into the priority list, always put in the back burner.  

But things in India are changing fast with rapid urbanization. The bonding built as a result of long term fusion of Nuclear families is fast dissipating by fission. DINK (Double Income No Kids) and DITK (Double Income Two Kids) is the new normal, prominently proclaimed by rise in birthday celebrations as the harbinger of neo individualism. While I hardly celebrate my birthday, my son plans ahead for months to celebrate his. It is quite understandable. For him growing up in America where individualism rules the roost, his birthday is a matter of celebration.  

No wonder in US they make a big deal about Birthdays. Years back one fine morning no sooner I entered my work place, than I found it nicely decorated with balloons proclaiming "HAPPY 50th BIRTHDAY". Half dozen teammates barged in, singing an impromptu Happy B'day song. A cake was cut. I had my few minutes of celebrity fame. They gave me a funny card signed with something like "Why Men Turn Naughty After Fifty" printed on it. (Americans make a lot of fuss about celebrating birthdays, annivarsariew and graduations, liberally punching them with dosages of humor. We in India are catching up fast). 

I forced myself a smile by fully exposing my phalanx of my 32 teeth and took a snap with them. Yet it was a stark reminder that being 50 in Chemistry lingo I have already reached the half life period, a la radioactive elements. In ancient India at this age people use to take VANAPRASTA (preparation towards retirement). In modern age life begins after middle age. 

Thanks again for your birthday wishes. As my mother wasn't there to wish me, for her wish was the one I always long for and I still can hear her wish from heaven. Let me yet again repeat this stanza from the famous Mukesh song in movie "MERA NAAM JOKER" dedicated to her :

"CHAHE KAHI BHI TUM RAHO,
CHAHENGE TUM KO UMR BHAR
TUM KO NA BHOOL PAENGE".. 

Roughly transliterated... 

"Wherever you are going to live,
I will long for you all my life,
Shall Never be able to forget you"....

Cockroach Janata Party

 India's Cockroach Janata Party began as a joke in response to comments made by Supreme Court Justice Surya Kant, who compared some young people and critics of institutions to “cockroaches” and “parasites.” His insensitive statement - “There are youngsters like cockroaches, who don’t get any employment or have any place in the profession,” Kant said. Coincidentally in short form its CJP, which sounds like BJP rhyming with it.

Regardless, the Justice's action had its unintentional consequences. His remarks quickly ricocheted across social media, drawing criticism and meme-making in equal measure. Kant later said he had not intended to insult young people and that his comments were directed at individuals with fraudulent degrees.
But it was too little, too late. As we say in Odia - "NEDI GUDA KAHUNI KU BOHI JAI THILA", meaning the jaggery on the palm had already reached the elbow. It simply meant, his regret came too late. By then, the internet had already done what it does best. On Instagram, the movement has amassed roughly 19 million followers — more than double the number for the BJP,  which has approximately 9 millions.

One thing happened for sure. Apparently it made BJP and its supporters nervous, which tells us that irrespective of all these bravado the right wingers are essentially a bunch of  nincompoomps filled with inferiority complex and insecurity. BJP and its famed IT Cell is doing everything to discredit this movement by trying to block 🚫 it on social media, blaming the movement being funded by George Soros to Pakistan, US to Bangladesh. If Soros and Pakistan are able to do all this, then what's our secret service is doing ? Our NSA, Doval 007 should throw away his dark glasses and should be sacked immediately for his inability to see this coming.

It reminds me of the heyday of Congress party when Indira Gandhi blamed every ill plaguing India on the ubiquitous foreign hand, alluding to the CIA. People bought them, people buying its now too. History is repeating itself in India. It clearly says that despite being a $4 trillion economy, not every thing is hunky dory in India as this movement is a reflection of the discontent amongst the youth due to lack of opportunities and rising inequality. Not every thing can be brushed under the carpet citing fake nationalism, jingoism and foreign hand. Problems are genuinely internal. 

The current millieu is akin to all sitting inside a room filled with inflammable gas with someone waiting to light a matchstick iIt's high time the Modi/BJP led government do a reality check, do something decisive than get defensive. They better be aware - Cockroach has a lot of resilience and tenacity,  it is the only animal which is capable of surviving a nuclear warfare. Current BJP disposition is nothing !