27th marriage Anniversary

 They say beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder. I say a "BIG YES" to that as I have a fascination for svelte, tall, dusky girls akin to the Bollywood actress Tabu rather than the moon faced, petite girls as they say in Odia the ଡଉଲ ଡାଉଲ "Daul Dowl" types. My teenage crush was the tall American actress Brooke Shields. It is said that if a Brahmin who has his BRATA GHARA (Thread ceremony) done,  but dies unmarried turns into a BRAHMA RAKHYASA (The Champion Ghost). I made a promise to myself that I would rather die single and become a BRAHMA RAKHYASA than marry a girl who is less than 5 feet 5 inches tall. So no wonder the moment I saw her as a stunning 5 feet 7, I simply fell for her.

It just seems like yesterday our long journey began when I tied the marital knot with my wife Tanujaa this day exactly 27 years back. Remembering the day more than a quarter of century ago, it was a whole different era. The earth has revolved around the sun 27 times since, the world has evolved much more.

During that time the economy of the sole Superpower America was booming under President Clinton. On December 11, 1998 the term social media was strictly fantasy. Face and Book were two separate words with distinct meanings, juxtaposing them to form a social media platform was still a greater fantasy, until Mark Zuckerberg made it a reality a decade later in year 2008. The same year America had its first Black President in Barack Obama. Anybody predicting a Black President of USA a decade from 1998 would have been laughed off as a dreamer. 

Donald Trump of "Trump Tower and Casino" fame was still a New York based Casanova groping pretty girls. Predicting such a reckless vagabond as a twice elected President of the world's most powerful nation would make someone suspected of smoking something. Japan was still ahead of China in terms of GDP, giving America run for money whereas China and India were just emerging economies, global supplier of cheap goods. 

Whatsapp then sounded more like "What's Up", a way to greet rather than a mode of message sharing. Twitting is that ignorable sound from the window made by a little birdie in Spring or on those dog days of summer, rather than a celebrity's message to the world or Donald Trump's tool to massage his gargantuan ego. Apple was the fruit which famously kept Doctors away, connecting it to a phone was a Science fiction writer's fantasy.

Cell phone then resembled a foot long Subway sandwich, using it to take a picture was an innovator's challenge. Many flaunted this new gadget during our marriage ceremony as their newly acquired status symbol, extending its footlong antenna for public view to show off their new toy. You still had to pay for incoming calls in India on mobiles. In US the cell phones had their own share of restrictions, with calls made after 9 PM and weekends were free. Browsing Internet was still called surfing and visiting websites on cell phones was a distant pipe dream.

The name Modi was associated with the iconic Tata man Russy bearing the same last name and his daily breakfast of 12 egg omelet, not Narendra and his expandable 56 inch chest. Imagining the nondescript man, just another politician from Gujarat as India's future third term Prime Minister would be an outright hallucination demanding some urgent psychiatric treatment. Naveen Patnaik was regarded a tyro, a political novice misfit to Odisha milieu for his inability to speak Odia, expected to get trampled over soon by his more seasoned rivals and move back to his comfort zone in Delhi.

US Green Cards taking 3 years to get after the initiatial paperwork submission was considered too long. Cars were still playing audio cassettes and electric cars were toys. The ubiquitous Blockbuster store (now extinct) in every strip mall was renting VHS tapes of movie "Titanic" like hot cakes. Calls to India from the United States costing a dollar a minute excluding a plethora of hidden charges was considered a superb deal. Whirring of the Dial Up 56 kb MODEM was the ubiquitous familiar sound before getting connected to the world wide web (www). And much more...

27 years down the road, the world has seen many transformational changes, shrinking further into a global village with Google and latest AI having answer to everything, creating a new breed of SUBZANTAWALLAs (Know Alls). Not everything stood the test of time in the fast changing, more than quarter of a century.

Yet thousands of nautical miles away, nothing much has changed in our relationship as we are still knotted together, as time flies, life trudges on, reminding us of reaching yet another milestone in form of another Marriage Anniversary. 

The unreliable Middle class

 Laloo Yadav, the veteran politician from the Indian state of Bihar, known for his earthy remarks once said - "AGAR GARIB KA DIL KISI PE A GAYA, TO APNI JAAN TAQ LAGA DETE HAIN", if the heart of a poor person gets fixated on something, he puts his life into it. Being a grassroot politician from one of the poorest of poor states in India, he had a point about describing the poor.

But he wasn't the first who noticed this trait in those who belong to the deprived section in India. Years ago before Laloo was born, Mahatma Gandhi, India's Father of Nation figured this out. A smart strategist, Gandhiji realized the importance of assimilation of the underprivileged mass and class in India's Freedom movement against the British occupation. So, he started calling the poor and downtrodden folks from the lower strata of the society as "HARIJAN" (Children of God). He knew very well that most from the upper class were in the pocket of British, the middle class couldn't be trusted as they are selfish and change their allegiance at drop of a hat, their color more often than chameleon, but the poor class, if motivated can come to the front and take the blow from the LATHI (stick) of British police on their chest. Those from Upper and the Middle class, all creatures of comfort would rarely do that.

Talking about the fickle and unreliable Middle class, it reminds me of a scene from 1974 Amitabh and Rajesh Khanna Bollywood starrer "NAMAK HARAAM". As the movie progresses, Amitabh is advised by his rich father not to trust his friend Rajesh Khanna, because the later was from the middle class. The rich dad played by veteran actor Om Shiv Puri warns his son - "Your friend is not doubt a good guy, but belongs to the middle class. Folks from that class, though vouch on their ideology and principles, are also ambitious and hence could turn treacherous. They perennially look for an opportunity to move up, hence they can easily drop their pretense of ideology to do anything to climb up the social ladder. Keep in mind my dear son, most ambitious folks come from this middle class who can be dangerous and should never be trusted."

Very apt and prophetic statement. People from the Upper class born with silver spoon in mouth mostly have a smooth sailing and stay closer to the establishment. The barely ambitious lower class may look forward to their next meal, but can give their life for the cause they believe in. The middle class always has this feeling, "I would love to be there at top one day but I am not there yet, may be one day in this life". If I miss this chance to get it through treachery, I may not get a 2nd chance in life.

They day dream about reaching the status of those "haves". Competition is cut throat and jealousy is the highest amongst middle class. Some of them are capable of doing anything and everything, by hook or crook for the sake of upward mobility, to grab money, power and social recognition. The burgeoning middle class in last few decades just strives hard to do that, a desire to get rich overnight at any cost. They are the ones who are pretty much responsible most corruption and scams we see these days, as many corrupt Netas (leaders) and Babus (Bureaucrats) happen to be from this class. The tall ambition of the middle class told to the tall actor Amitabh by his father played by Om Siv Puri years ago still thrives.

In a more recent Hollywood movie "INSIDE MAN" the actor Clive Owens takes a bank into hostage. He blackmails the Bank owner using a letter he finds from a safe deposit box given to the Bank owner by Nazi authorities years ago during World War II in recognition to his service to the Nazis. The kidnapper keeps that note as his insurance, a safety net in case the banker turns revengeful in future.

The dejected Bank owner narrates his story to the actress Jodi Foster who was trying to mediate a deal - "During the Nazi occupation of France, my rich Jewish friend trusted me with his family's money and jewelry. I was young and ambitious, betrayed my Jewish friend to the Nazis who took him away to the concentration camp from where he never returned". The middle class man soon became rich by establishing his banking empire with his betrayeal blood money and his Nazi connection.

Chanakya, ancient India's legendary teacher, strategist and advisor to Chandragupta of the Maurya Dynasty famously said - "Never trust an ambitious person who can easily betray you to achieve goal". He wasn't far from truth. We live in an era where thoughts fly in twinkle of an eye, but the basis human nature hasn't changed since Chanakya lived around 300 BC.

Socrates - the maverick Brazilian Soccer player

The legend of Brazilian soccer, Socrates died this day, this month 14 years ago. He was unique of his kind, a rare multifaceted, contradictory and controversial talent. Apart from being a brilliant swift dribbler of the ball and a threat to Brazil's opponents, he was also a qualified Doctor, yet a smoker who loved to get soaked in alcohol, a rarity amongst sportsmen. Socrates was a maverick man, a player of caliber who happened to have captained a highly talented Brazilian World Cup squad in 1982 and a key player in 1986 - a team who should have won both the Cups but couldn't.

If you followed soccer in the 1980s, Socrates was that slim, bearded, wearing yellow jersey with Bandana and curly haired captain of the 1982 and 1986 Brazilian squad which was probably the best soccer team which never won the World Cup. Though eclipsed by the likes of his better known compatriots Pele, Zico, Romario, Ronaldo, Ronaldinho, Neymar et all from a nation who produces soccer players of class dime a dozen, this midfielder carved his niche with his swift, devastating counter attacks. A gifted midfielder Socrates could be of dangerous proposition to any opponent with his unpredictable moves catching the opponents unguarded.

I remember him being the captain of 1982 Brazillian World Cup Soccer Team when as a 13 year old I started following international football seriously. The team was managed by the legendary chain smoking Tele Santana who believed that attack is the best method of defense. The star studded Brazilian team with the likes of Zico, Socrates, Falcao, Eder, Junior breezed into the quarters. The legendary Pele boasted "Playing like this we are going to win the Cup". And everyone thought so, similar to Indian cricket team was expected by most to win last 50 overs Cricket World Cup held in India as it won all the matches until it lost the final to Australia.

The Quarterfinals of the 1982 World Cup was in a league format with Argentina (with a promising 21 year old Maradona in their side), Brazil and Italy clubbed together in a group of death, with one team to qualify for the semifinals. In the all important match Brazil, the overwhelming favorite Samba team needed just a draw against a struggling Italy to qualify for semifinals. 

But Paolo Rossi who had a lack luster tournament until then crashed the Brazilian dream with a hat trick as Italy narrowly won the match 3-2. Italy eventually went on to win the Cup. Clearly the marauding Brazilians let their defense down while focusing too much on blitzkrieg and paid the price. Believing too much on attack, the Brazilians left loopholes in their defense for Rossi to capitalize.

In the 1986 version of the Cup in Mexico city, famously known as "Maradona's hand of God" World Cup, Brazil was every one's favorite dream team. In the match against Poland, Socrates scored a philosophical goal, when he took the penalty shot looking aloof, pointing his fingers in one direction, putting the ball inside the net on the other side. He confused the goalkeeper with his guile, as the goalkeeper moved in the direction of Socrates's finger as the later netted the ball into the goal.

But in the crucial Quarterfinals against France, Socrates tried repeating the same, but it turned out to be a mistake repeated. This time the French goalie read him right, blocking the ball. It cost the Brazilians the match and the Cup. A world cup win, which would've been a fitting finale to a genius's marvelous career remained elusive.
Socrates continued to practice medicine after he retired from the game, a genius who was a world class soccer player as well as a medico, who later dabbled in politics. He wrote blogs and was often seen on TV panels to discuss soccer and politics.

He was 57 when he died of complication due to his long stint with alcoholism, on December 5, 2011. A tragic fallacy of human weakness - a doctor who succumbed to something he must have advised others not to do, whose ill effects he must been well aware of. RIP, the maverick genius.

Bhopal gas tragedy 1984

 Exactly 41 years ago, the killer waves of MIC (Methyl Iso-Cyanate), a highly toxic gas engulfed the skies of sleepy township of Bhopal in the state of Madhya Pradesh in India. Many who were peacefully sleeping, would never wake up again, only to breath their last in the form of the poisonous air. A leakage in the local Union Carbide plant killed thousands and maimed many when the Knight of Death visited that night.

This incident popularly known as the "Bhopal Gas Tragedy" had its consequences. The value of Union Carbide Chief in India, Warren Anderson from USA was so valuable that he was helped by the then Madhya Pradesh Chief Minister Arjun Singh who flew him out of the city on his way out of country. He couldn't have done this without the tacit approval of his all powerful boss in Delhi, Rajeev Gandhi who barely a month ago was made the Prime Minister of India on the aftermath of his mother's assassination. (Per Congress party culture, its regional leaders can't even go to toilet without the permission of their High Command, aka the Gandhi family at the helm of affairs. It is inconceivable that American CEO Warren Anderson was let go without the knowledge of Prime Minister Rajeev Gandhi).

We go an extra mile to transport an American who does felony in our own homeland miles away to his safety, but whine and protest vehemently when our diplomat is treated shabbily for breaking the law on American soil (ironically this incident happened in the month of December little more than a decade ago in the year 2013). We, the champion practitioners of hypocrisy and double standards, never lose opportunity to accuse Americans of the same.

More than 40 years down the road the justice has been both delayed and denied. Anderson the Union Carbide Chief, died of natural causes in his resident in Long Island, New York not so long ago. He refused to meet any Indian reporter and hardly took ownership of the disaster nor offered any tangible benefits towards the families of dead and the injured. Those who survived the Bhopal gas tragedy had to go through a lifetime ordeal, many of whom became maim for rest of their lives were given compensation thrown at them in peanuts - a tardy too little, too late. 

Have we learned anything from history about industrial safety and bringing rich and mighty felons to justice ? Your guess is as good as mine.

Our Day of tryst with Lord Jagannath

 This Thanksgiving Day reminds me visiting my sisters in Chicago ago. The windy city was considered considerably colder compared to Georgia where I live. We made a trip to the local Jagannath temple of the local Odia society where my sisters are actively involved.

It was the day of our tryst with CHAKADOLA (Round Eyeballs) - one of myriad lovable ways of addressing Lord Jagannath by us Odias. Our Lord was well ensconced inside a small house by the large hearted Odias who are a section of the devoted devotees from the Sri Jagannath Society Of Greater Chicago temple. The icy chilled abode soon warmed up, as the heating cranked up inside the building, followed by the high decibel cranking of hand held GHANTA (lummox cylindrical brass plates hit with stick) and GINI (runt, ear shaped pair of brass, more shoothing to the eardrums).

As the puja juggernaut trudged ahead, the sound transported me back down the memory lanes on a Time Machine, when on the night of DASHAHARA (Dussera) festivals, chariot carrying our village diety would roll on the narrow, dusty track in between the lines of thatched roofs. It would make intermittent stops in front of houses, as the designated priest would climb the stairs made from MANKADAA PATHARA (black poked sedimentary rock) leading to the main door.

He would swivel his GINI (another conical device made from brass) on his left arm and swirl few drops of water around the BHOGA, the sacred offering of PITHA (rice and lentil based cakes) from the household, uttering OM HING KLING NAIBEDYAM SAMARPAYAMI (O' lord, I offer thee these pious offerings).

Soon the priest will walk down, followed by urchins from the household joining the melee, chasing the chariot. Most of them who invariably wore loose fit outfits, frantically lift their short pants which frequently slip off as they chase the chariot amidst the haze of dust lifting up under lantern lights.

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

AHE CHAKA DOLA
TAMA BOPA KALE KHAITHILA KI
BAIGANA SANTULA

Transliterated to English...

O Lord Jagannath
In your father's generation,
Did you ever ate soup of boiled Eggplant ?
Now I could mentally tune in to the local context,

AHE CHAKA AKHIA
TAMA BOPA KALE KHAITHILA KI
CHICAGO PIZZA

O Lord Jagannath.
In your father's generation
Did ya ever had Chicago Pizza sessions.

Now back to the temple an interesting episode awaited us. It depicted how we humans are basically elements of contradiction. It would be hypocrite not to admit that we have some semblance of hypocrisy embedded within us.

On that particular day in November, it felt very cold inside the temple as the heating system inside was not working. The Head Priest was already aware of this, but did not inform the Utility guys. The reason being quite silly but not unusual, he felt that he was not properly approached by the members of the temple committee. The man, a 4 feet personna loaded with 4 tons of inflated ego, felt it was punctured as the tyres of a bicycle on a rocky road.

I was patiently listening to the conversation between the priest and other members of the core temple management committee. Finally I concluded that it was nothing but priest's BIG ego which put a spanner in the wheels. In the meantime I noticed a few lines in Sanskrit scribbled on the temple wall AHAM BHAV ATMA KE LIYE KHARAB HAI.. meaning "Ego is bad for the soul". Earlier the same evening the Priest also mentioned the same during his 30 minutes long PRAVACHAN (sermon).

When it was time to leave, I asked the priest "PANDITJEE (Respected priest), can you please explain those lines written in Sanskrit on the wall to me ?" He duly obliged. I thanked him, did my NAMASTE (Indian tradition of greet and good bye).

As I started walking towards the exit door, I heard the Priest's voice from behind - "Dash Jee, I have a feeling you knew the meaning of those lines but still asked me". He shied and continued " I agree, we don't always practise what we preach. That's why we are mere humans needing guidance from God".

I chuckled back when a burst of howling chilly Chicago wind at my face gusting through the semi-open door reminded me to run towards the warm comforts of my car. Late that night I heard that to every one's delight the priest did a volte-face and agreed to call the maintenance folks to fix the heating, the first thing next morning.

Anniversary of Mumbai's 26/11

 Whenever I travel to India, I am forced to take a break in Delhi or Mumbai for few hours before catching the connecting flight to my hometown Bhubaneswar. On my return journey if I have time, I take time to spend some time in those cities. Never ever I fail to take the opportunity to talk to the cabbies and commoners to gauge the pulse and the mood of our nation.

In Mumbai the outsiders are often branded as GUJJU (Gujuratis), GULTI (Telugus), MALLU (Malayalis) and so on depending on their states of origin. Not sure what they call Odias behind their back - probably folks from the state of Odisha are insignificant, not numerous or influential enough to earn a specific tag. The South Indians as a whole are packaged as "YENDU GENDU WALLE", poked fun of their accent, often put under the same bucket as Behenc**d (sister slammer) Madrasis as they are called in Delhi.

The worst in Mumbai is reserved for the Biharis (any one from the cow belt is considered as a Bihari including those from UP) who are regarded as betel chewing, foul mouthed, smelly, dirty ones living in squalors. They are accused of having a criminal bent of mind compared to the cultured, broadminded and brave heart Marathis. The Bihari cab drivers reciprocate by accusing the Marathis of being arrogant, snobbish and intolerant to outsiders. Folks lose no opportunity to backbite each other community, often in a deregatory way. So much about the much boasted cosmopolitan fabric of Mumbai where reality is every community speaks ill of each other behind their back.

But a notable difference was little more than a decade and half ago when I was travelling through Mumbai barely a week after the 26th of November, 2008. The patriotic fervor was high on aftermath of the infamous 26/11 incident when terrorists from Pakistan caused multiple deaths and injuries inside the city. My brother-in-law, my wife's cousin Saurav Mishra was one of such victims who took a bullet at Leopold Cafe when he was sipping coffee with his friends. Luckily he  survived as bullet hit his shoulder.

On that day I didn't come across any community specific character assassination by anyone in an apparent show of unity which overrode the all pervading parochial feelings.
It is said that crisis can be the best leveller - a tiger and a goat are known to live in peaceful coexistence and collaboration when cornered inside a boat during flood. No wonder Cricket and Pakistan, especially when both juxtaposed together brings the best Indian out of us which is divided along caste, communal, linguistic, regional lines.

It also didn't go unnoticed to me the lack security in the Mumbai Airport inside and out barely a week after this heinous crime. You would expect a Fort Knox at the Airport and it was far from it. Have we learnt any lessons from this attack ? Are we better off more than a dozen years after this incident. Your guess is as good as mine. Yet as mentioned earlier by my friend Ambika Prasad Mahapatra aptly reminds of this fateful day.

A Blood thirsty nation
A dozen rotten souls
An incompetent State
A few brave hearts
Hundreds of innocent victims
Thousands of devastated families
Millions of vulnerable commoners.
And the line - "We salute the Mumbai spirit"..

Death Anniversary of JFK

 On this day, on a fine bright, sunny, late Fall November morning in the year 1963, at strapping 6 feet 1, a young, handsome and charismatic American President John F. Kennedy touched down at the Dallas Love - Field Airport accompanied by his elegant wife, Jacqueline 'Jackie' Kennedy just before noon. Jackie was pretty in pink from head to toe, including a fetching pink pillbox hat shining on her head. The American President popularly addressed as JFK, dashing as always, was outifitted in a grey suit and blue tie. They made a stunning couple.

Tragedy is known to strike at the most inopportune time. The Presidential motorcade passed through Elm Street near Dealy Plaza in Dallas with JFK and the First Lady perched upon a Convertible Limo, smiling and waving to the crowd gathered on his right. Suddenly at 12.30 PM local time, three fatal shots, fired by an assassin Lee Harvey Oswald hit him in succession as he slumped into his wife's lap. Jackie held him muttering forlornly repeatedly: 'They have killed my husband'. This happened exactly 62 years ago.

JFK's Assassination is a major event in the history of last century. Though Americans make fun of the British for their obsession with their Royal family the Kennedys are treated no less than Royalties in USA. Conspiracy theories galore the untimely death of their Camelot President who once told the British Prime Minister - "I get a headache if I don't have sex every day". Multiple women who had affair with JFK found him irresistible. To many he looked like a Greek God.

Lee Harvey Oswald who killed JFK was shot dead only 48 hours later by Jack Ruby, a Dallas nightclub owner who had terminal cancer. He died soon after killing Lee Harvey Oswald, eliminating any thread which could lead to the identity of the real killer. In the movie JFK, Oliver Stone says that President Kennedy was shot from close, the back of his skull was blown away. But later after autopsy it was found to be intact, leading to myriad conspiracy theories.

I have visited the room in Dallas, Texas, now an exhibit for visitors, from which Oswald supposedly fired his shots. From the window one can see the spot where the President was shot at. Firing from a bolt action Rifle from that range and hitting a target on a moving vehicle one has to be a damn lucky shooter. 

Never mind the conspiracy theories, nobody has captured the public imagination of Americans as the Kennedys. Couple of JFK's speeches "Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country " and "We should not negotiate out of fear nor we should fear to negotiate" still resonates with many, raising goosebumps. A truly inspirational and charismatic figure during a trip to NASA he told the scientists to send a man to moon by the end of 60s decade. The idea which sounded crazy at that moment came true in 1969, just before the end of that decade as he envisioned. An inspiring leader, sadly JFK never lived to see the day of moon landing.

The legacy of the Kennedys has never died. Many still remember JFK and his charismatic younger brother Robert (Bobby) Kennedy who was assassinated on June 5, 1968 just after winning the California Primaries for the Democratic Party in the corridor of Ambassador hotel in Los Angeles. The youngest of the brothers, Edward (Teddy) Kennedy lived much longer, being a Senator from the state of Massachusetts for long time. He was controversial too, linked to the death of a young girl in an accident whom he supposedly impregnated. It is said that the Joseph Kennedy, the father of the Kennedy Brothers who was an Ambassador to England had the reputation of a notorious womanizer and it is said his son's inherited his traits. Yet the Kennedys were patriots. Teddy Kennedy is still remembered for his famous speech at the Democratic Convention of 1980 - " The work goes on, the cause endures, the hope still lives, and the dream shall never die". The American dream lives forever.