My grandmother's tryst with the outer world

Halloween always reminds me of my grandmother's tryst with the outer world. She used to narrate us this story from her childhood which till date fascinates me.

 

When she was young, she was seriously ill. Her parents quit on her, when they saw her eyes closed and her body became cold. She remembered floating above her body, watching her parents crying. She saw some of her dead relatives. That included her sister who was close to her and succumbed a year earlier to Small Pox. She told my grandma, not to worry about the neither world, as she got familiar company.

 

Then a big burly guy came, yelling" What she is doing here ? She needs to go back, her time hasn't come yet." Soon she opened her eyes, to see her crying parents relax and wipe off tears from their eyes. She miraculously recovered from that point and lived well into her 90s. She never ever suffered any major ailment after this and led a very smooth life, living until the age of 95. Till he died, she took care of herself and passed away peacefully in her sleep, a blessed death for any human.

 

In modern day Clinical terms, it is called NDE (Near Death Experience). I would think, this was a short term Post Death Experience. Whatever it may be, my grandma forever insisted on this event, took RAANA (sweared on the lives of her near and dear ones) of speaking the truth. I do have reasons to trust her, as ladies from that generation took their RAANA seriously, especially when it comes to their kids and grand kids.

Dino Zoff and Imran Khan

When Italy won the World Cup Soccer in 1982, Dino Zoff, their skipper was 40 years old. He was the oldest person to captain a World Cup winning team.

Exactly 10 years later in 1992, Pakistan won the World Cup Cricket, captained by Imran Khan, who was also 40 year old.

Both Italy and Pakistan were upset winners, defeated more fancied sides on their way towards winning the Cup. Italy defeated the much favored Brazil. Pakistan defeated New Zealand. Both Brazil and New Zealand were having a fantastic run, until they met unexpected Waterloo in the hands of Italy and Pakistan respectively.

Finally, Paolo Rossi of Italy and Inzamam-Ul-Haq of Pakistan were not among the better known players before the tournament. Paolo Rossi's hat trick sealed the fate of Brazil, the star filled team which was having a fantastic run until they met Italy in elimination round. Inzamam's 32 ball 60, sealed the unstoppable Kiwi's dream in the semifinals.

Son Of the Soil

Fell in love with the fiery, falling Red leaves on a fabulous Fall day overlooking the Fair skies. With the advent of Fall and Frost, the farming season is over. Plucked my final harvest, chaffing them out of the dried leaves of the dying plants. The pleasure of watching the plants nurtured by my own hands, growing up and yielding produce in the backyard of my home, is next to none, not to mention the much needed exercise and lung full of fresh air I get.

 

It reminds me after all, I am still Son of the Soil, down to earth. One day I am destined to blend in it. Nothing beats being close to the Nature in the months extending from Spring into Summer and early Fall. The gentle waves of breeze fluttering the leaves of Pines, Oak, Sweet Gum and Mimosa trees overlooking the fair skies, is the ultimate treat to the soothing eyes. Love watching the bees whizzing past, chasing each other, competing to suck the nectar, as they move from one flower to another, helping in pollination.

 

As the soothing breeze caressed me, I found myself transported back to this song and couldn't help murmuring this one from the movie ARADHANA....

 

GUN GUNA RAHI HAI BHANWAR KHIL RAHI HAI KALI KALI

(The bee is humming by, flowers wavering in gentle breeze).

 

The chirping and humming of birds, sight of Squirrels, occasional Raccoons, Coyotes, Deers and even Snakes brings me closer to the nature. Swaying little birdies crisscross the crimson sky, as an array of Pelicans pass by cawing PAAON PAAON. Can never forget the bright yellow flowers of JANHI (Ridged Gourd) and KAKUDI (cucumbers) are smiling at me reminding my childhood days when we used to sing

JANHI PHOOLA THO THA,

KAKUDI PHOOLA THO THA

(Ridge Gourd flowers go burst, 

 Cucumber flowers go burst).

Goodbye harvesting season of 2015 and the warm weather. See you again next year.

Jhopadpatti Zindabad

Other day I was watching a Hindi song where the main actor dances to the tune of song

JHOPADPATTI ZINDABAD,
MEHNAT WALLE ZINDABAD,
DAULAT WALLE MURDABAD.

meaning...

"Hail to our slums,
Hail to the hardworkers.
Hell to the rich folks."

I have no qualms about praising the hardworkers. But there is hardly anything to be proud about living in slums. Also, nothing wrong in being rich, as long as the wealth is acquired by honest means.

This movie was from 1980s, when it was fashionable to glamorize poverty back home. Politicians, media and some in the movie industry survived on selling poverty. When China was chugging ahead with double digit growth, removing poverty in the process, we were still glorifying it, gloating in the reverie of communism, demonizing the rich.

Indira Gandhi promised GARIBI HATAO in 1971, but nothing tangible happened until 1991, when liberalization set in. Though we could have done better, we still have come a long way from days of "Jhopadpatti Zindabad". Consumerism has set in. As Deng Xiaoping, one of the architects of Chinese growth said, "it's fun to get rich". He wasn't far from truth.

In this context, let me mention about Rajeev Dash, a young entrepreneur operating from Bhubaneswar, a place not  known to be conducive towards business. The other day he mentioned about low amount of money being in circulation in Bhubaneswar. To a businessman, it sounds like music when he hears the sound of money circulating in town, a sign of consumer confidence and more money in their pocket. Stagnant money leads to less spending and more unsold inventory, which is a trader's worst nightmare. Our ancient Sanskrit scholars aptly named money as CHANCHALAA (The moving one), which should circulate around, never stay static.

In spite of such bottlenecks, he strives hard, contributing to the economy by generating employment, who would spend the money they earn, continuing the cycle of more money spending, resulting in more employment.

We should be eulogizing entrepreneurs  like Rajeev, rather than dancing to the tune of "Jhopadpatti Zindabad ". Otherwise we will forever be stuck with building world class Bullock carts, when China's sells state of the art Bullet Trains.

Indian food at Cafeteria

This week we had Indian food available at our Company Cafeteria. I grabbed my lunch and asked the Manager how the Indian food was selling. He told me, that more Americans and lesser number of Indians these days are buying Indian food, and asked me what could be the reason behind that. I replied, "as most Indians are already used to this taste from back home, they lined up in droves initially out of curiosity. There was also this added feeling to fill themselves with their familiar food cooked inside their Company. Like most things in life, after the initial craving is gone, the novelty factor slowly wears off. This is exactly the case here". Seemed satisfied with my response, he smiled and walked away. But what I didn't tell him, is the other reason behind the waning trend. Unlike Americans, we NRIs are not big Spenders (The usual disclaimers apply), rather big Savers. The Indian dishes cost at least a couple of dollars more, which hugely impedes the DESIs (as Indo-Americans are often referred here), known to keep track of every penny spent from their pocket. If the price goes down a bit or someone else foots the bill, our folks can be champion eaters, immediately making a a beeline (same goes with liquor too). At the same time, we NRIs are poor tippers at restaurants, compared to the Americans who liberally open their purse with hefty tips. Americans love spending money, nearly 2/3rd of their gargantuan 16 trillion dollar economy is based on consumer spending. But the contribution of NRIs towards it via spending is minimal, especially those from my generation. Most of us grew up in middle class, in an environment where saving, not spending is important. Old habits, die hard. The mindset retained from childhood refuses to fade away. Indira Gandhi is a classic example how childhood psychology stays late into life. Her mother died young. Her father was mostly away busy in freedom movement, spending long stints in jail. She had a lone, insecure childhood. As a student she went in and out of Santiniketan, a Swiss school, Oxford and so on, insecure as ever. As a lonely teenager hungry for company, she readily fell in love with Feroz Gandhi who gave her attention and later married him. But like many crush based marriages, her marriage crashed. Perennially looking for that elusive emotional security, she got separated from her husband and moved into her father's den. Later she became the Prime Minister, yet her sense of insecurity was apparent, from the way she handled herself. She ruthlessly consolidated her power inside the Congress Party eliminating her rivals. When Allahabad High Court declared her election null and void she imposed Emergency and put the entire opposition behind bars. She would never allow someone from her party to complete a 5 year tenure as CM of a state, lest that person becomes a threat to her. These actions represent a classic insecure mindset, her stigma of childhood days forever stuck to her. I'm sure the world would have seen many such examples. Childhood psychology never dies with adulthood, carries itself till death. So also the spending habits.

The October Surprise

October reminds me of " The October Surprise". It's a political term often used in American elections, which are held on the first Tuesday of November. October is the month of peak campaigning and debates. A surprise like a scam, scandal or a misstep by candidate can create havoc and cost a candidate the election. The most recent one I remember was the Senate campaign in Missouri in 2012. Todd Aiken, the Republican was all set to defeat his Democrat woman opponent, leading her by 5+ points. Early October he came up with his famous "legitimate Rape" comment. It was too silly a statement. Rape is after all rape, a heinous crime, period. It can't be quantified. Backlash, especially from women followed. His lady opponent easily won that seat. 11 years ago, around this time in the year 2004, George Bush and John Kerry were running a neck to neck in the USA Presidential election. Kerry, performed well in his debate and was catching up with Bush (Democrats are better communicators than Republicans, perhaps with the exception of Ronald Reagan). John Kerry was closing in fast, until came the October Surprise on 28th of that month, hardly a week prior to the elections. A video of Osama Bin laden was released. It reminded the Americans of 9/11. During the time of crisis the Americans cling to their leaders and give them a free hand, letting the status quo prevail. (On the aftermath of 9/11, Bush's approval rating went up to a record 91 and no one demanded his resignation). The video gave Bush a 2-3% lead in the polls, enough to romp home for his 2nd term. Please feel to call me a Conspiracy Theorist, but let me connect some dots here. John Kerry spoke virulently against Pakistan's double standard (it's another matter he now cuddles the Pakistani Army Chief, the man who matters). The then Pakistani President Musharaf must have figured out its best in his interest to bet on Bush's 2nd term. So he did his best to get this video made from Bin Laden, who we all know was living in his backyard, all along.

The Senator at Minneapolis Airport in the year 2007

I hope this incident from the year 2007 rings a bell. A young Police Officer was inside the stall of a Men's restroom (toilet) at Minneapolis International Airport, USA. His next stall neighbor extended his legs and started tapping the Officer's shoes. This is a classic style of gay solicitation in public restrooms in America. To the Police Officer's surprise his next Stall solicitor and would be paramour turned out to be Larry Craig, a US Senator from the state of Idaho. He (incidentally once sought impeachment proceeding against Clinton on moral grounds) was waiting to catch a connecting flight, but ended up in making the wrong connection. The Senator probably thought of getting little kinky, done and fly out, anticipating this rendezvous to end up like "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas", all staying gay and happy. Unlucky for him, he couldn't escape this escapade. This Police officer who the Senator expected to be his "One Day Stand" partner, charged him for lewd conduct. The Senator took a guilty plea. I was imagining a similar situation in an Airport back home, where a Police Inspector catches an MP in such an unsavoury situation. We can visualize several outcomes of such a scenario. First and the most likely one - the Inspector falling on his knee, touching the venerable MP's feet, profusely begging for forgiveness, "Sir..Sir.. YE BESHARAM KO GALTI HO GAYA (this shameless guy has committed a mistake)..MAAF KAR DIJIYE(please forgive me). The MP and his reputation stays lily white as his starched DHOTI (white loin cloth worn around waist by many politicians). Second and Quite possible scenario - if the inspector is smart enough, he can cough up some good amount of money from the hapless MP. The third and least unlikely scenario - the Inspector the MP into Custody ( I do believe many efficient and honest officers are still there, though they are a rarespecies in the verge of extinction). In that case the MP soon gets a bail and the poor inspector gets severely reprimanded by his supervisors for having the audacity of suspecting the integrity of an Honorable MP. Long story short, Larry Craig never ran for any political office again. Like many American politicians caught in scandals, his political carrier ended soon. In India no politician even admits a mistake even after conviction. As far as their political carrier goes, some further it. The fact that a bunch of legislatures, mostly from UP and Bihar get elected over and over again speaks for it.

Retirement of Virendra Shehwag

Ravi Sastri, who is famous for batting at snail's speed, once stayed more than an hour on crease on 199, to complete his century. But one player would step out and risk a century when on nervous 90s. He was an exception to the rule, as the word nervous was not in his lexicon. Caring the least, he would hit a massive six or boundary to reach the milestone. He is Virendra Shehwag, the Indian opening batsman who just announced his retirement from cricket. From Najafgarh, a suburb of Delhi, better known for its rustic milieu, Shehwag came a long way. It's said that he had travelled numerous times standing on crowded DTC buses squeezing himself and his cricket kit, traveling long distance to play cricket. Not endowed with an athletic figure of a sportsman was ever a deterrent to his batting, for he made it up by his tremendously gifted unique hand - eye coordination. Cricket after all is more a game of skill, than physical prowess. It's said he could see the cricket ball like a football and for a few years snatched the limelight from the leading cricketer of his time, a legend called Sachin Tendulkar. For years many, including I, cherished his batting more than any Indian batsman. India owes many victories, especially against our all time rival Pakistan to this man. Wish you a happy retirement life Viru (as he was fondly called by his teammates). Watching aggressive batting will never be the same without you.

Goat meat and Ashtami

Durga Puja always puts me on a Time Machine, propelling me back to childhood days and certain related events. Once I brought some PRASAD (offering to deities) from Lord Jagannath temple, Puri, for the priest at my local temple here. The priest, a Brahmin from Gujarat, was very pleased with what I got for him from Jagannath DHAM (religious abode). We sat down chatting, as he asked me about my trip. I told him how much I cherish the fish and goat meat curry in Odisha. He was appalled and could not believe a Brahmin in me being a voracious eater of fish and a four legged animal like Goat. He asked me "AAP KAISE EK JEEV KO KHA SAKTE HAIN" ..how could you eat an animal ? I had no answer, but narrated him about my childhood days when we used to visit religiously our ancestral village near Puri, during the Durga Puja. The most awaited event would be ASHTAMI (8th day), for the annual ritual of goat sacrifice. On that fateful day villagers would walk in droves to catch a glimpse of BODA HANA (Goat slaughter). The sacrificial BODA (a non-castrated male goat with goatee and smelling horrible) would be brought and tied to a post. The priest would arrive chanting MANTRAS (hymns) amidst the cacophony of the beating of GHANTA ( large brass circular plates). A strongly built DHOBA (washer man) with twitched Walrus moustache would arrive on the scene, wiping off layers of sweat from his forehead. He would unleash a sharp sword, glittering under the morning sun and with one massive blow detach the head of the goat from its body. The goat's torso would meander a couple of feet before collapsing, with its still eyes still gaping at the crowd. The priest would collect its blood and offer it to the Goddess. Later it would be skinned and its meat divided equally among the villagers as PRASAD. This whose episode wasn't free from its aftershocks. For the next few days all that glittered wasn't gold, it was that unforgettable sword slashing through the goat's neck. I had nightmares of the goat torso chasing me, the detached head hovering over, with its eyes still open, staring at me. As it approaches, I try to outrun him, but still unable to move as the apparition closes on me. I would get up in a flash, sweating. My sister sacrificed meat eating after watching one such goat sacrifice on ASHTAMI. The same aftershock came back to the future, as the priest from Gujarat who was patiently hearing my narration almost fainted. He could not digest this scene happening in a Brahmin village where his counterparts had no issues digesting the scene and meat. I can vouch he was glad that I did not bring any PRASAD from my village.

Joe Biden Running for POTUS ?

Joe Biden is now sending serious vibes regarding throwing his hat into the Democratic field. (The official announcement could come in 48 hours). That means, Hillary Clinton now has got some serious competition. Competition and Choices are always good for Democracy as well as the Consumers in a society. It is the dream of every American politician to be the President of USA. They must be having the reverie of walking into Capitol Hill, with Senators and Congressmen standing up and clapping as the Speaker welcomes "Ladies and Gentlemen, Please welcome the POTUS". Not only it comes with White House, Air Force One, a Presidential resort at Camp David, a Presidential Helicopter, Limo etc, the world also looks for leadership in the sole Superpower of the world. Many multiple term Senators and Governors aspire life long for the cherished Post. For most it remains a dream. Vice president Biden, a 6 term Senator is just one step away from Presidency and at 72 it is last shot at arguably the most powerful position on the surface of earth, i.e. the President of United States. So why not give a last shot to a lifelong ambition John F Kennedy and Barack Obama were exceptions to the rule. In last 50 years, they are the only Senators whop became president (rest including Reagan and Clinton were Governors). Both became President before they completed their first term as Senators. JFK was already well known, he was from the famous Camelot Kennedy family. His dad Joseph Kennedy was a well known figure from New England who also served as Ambassador to England. (Many say the senior Kennedy was also a notorious playboy, his sons carried their father's traits). Similarities ends there. Unlike JFK, Obama was not so well known. He was and is still is a family man, untainted by any innuendos of debauchery. But like JFK, he had immense talent, charisma to connect to the audience, breezing his way towards presidency. Some say he was lucky, but I say he was at the right place and the right time (that's how I define luck as, to be at the right place at right time). In year 2002, he could not even one of the 435 Congress House of Representative seats, soundly defeated from Chicago suburb. In 2004, he got elected as a Senator. Only 4 years later, he bit multiple odds to become the first black man to live in White House. It makes perfect sense for Biden to jump into the ring, as for him (as well as Hillary), the is the chance of Lifetime.

Violence during College Elections

The news of violence back home during the Student Union elections, including kniving and bomb throwing, did not surprise me. It seems students now a days are more proficient in building bombs, rather than career. I happened to be an alumni of BJB college, Bhubaneswar for couple of years. Though never participated in any election - vilection, I had witnessed many from close quarters. Violence of such nature was unheard of, goondaism mostly limited to verbal threatening. Friendship with so and so from the village of BADAGADA in the outskirts of Bhubaneswar (now melted into the megalopolis) was enough to assure ones safety. Aspirants for different posts of student's body, would push their candidatures via " Pushing Cards" into the hands of prospective voters. The girls standing in clusters around SANATAN CHAT (a fast food joint selling tangy, often stale stuff, yet popular, mostly with girls) stall, would attract the scented pushing cards. Those were laced with cheap perfumes miserly strewn over a thick, rectangular abrasive paper, would be exclusively reserved for them. The boys had to contend with the blander versions. No one ever dared to take on candidates from BADAGADA. The post of Sports Secretary was unofficially reserved for them. The BADAGADIAs (the inhabitants of the village were referred as) were supposed to be slow witted, could boast of more brawn, but hardly any brain. Often butt of jokes, their heads were rumored to be stuffed with cow dung. But most were in awe with them. A friend of mine, an outsider who dared to aspire for their reserved post, was kidnapped and threatened. But no bomb or bullets flew around. The day of reckoning came to climax on the day of "Why I stand meet", when the contestants are supposed to go at length explaining their candidature on stage. Yet it invariably turns out more histrionics, substance whatever if any, is lost in the cacophony. Post elections, the promises were rarely kept. Yet this annual farce continues. The icing on the cake used to be the much awaited arrival of the candidates for Dramatic Secretary on the stage. They try their best to outsmart each other by singing loudly, jumping to the tunes of the latest Bollywood hits and telling semi vulgar jokes. The more the giggling of the girls in audience more enthusiastic are those on the stage, their presence enticing the prospective Dramatic Secretaries to swing their hips in more dramatic ways. Once a candidate tore off his pants on stage, while emulating a dance number from a Jeetendra movie, exposing his DORA, a popular underwear of that time. He continued further until the muffled laughter from girls in the audience with their face covered in palm, gave away to cat calls from the boys. It made him realize that something was wrong. After discovering his plight, he took out his handkerchief (a must carry for youth of that time), covered his exposed area and ran backstage. But hardly any goondaism was there, basically limited to only verbal threats. Bullets or bombs were strictly fantasy. If someone threatens you then taking the name of so and so from was enough to assure your safety. Apparently things are a whole lot different now.

Happy Birthday to Odia legend Akshaya Mohanty

Today is the Birthday of the legendary Odia singer Akshaya Mohanty. Like Kishore Kumar, he was a virtuoso, a multifaceted artist. Though more famous as a versatile singer, the lyricist in him penned many songs. The all rounder in him arguably stood him above his contemporaries from his generation, which included a field of gifted talents. KHOKA Bhai(his went by this alias), started singing and was at his peak during 1970s. During that time he made the cardinal mistake of quitting his government job to fully focus on his musical career. Unfortunately for him, he was from a state, better known as the graveyard of artistic pursuits, a milieu which harbors anathema towards anything but secured SARAKARI (government) jobs. He could have rubbed Clarified Butter on his mustache (NISARE GHIA MARI) and worked nonchalantly, nonstop till 58 and still doing amateur singing. But he took a risk to pursue hi first love, music and paid big time for his decision. He sang many Odia hits, his records sold well, he hugely popular and admired, yet his going pro did not fetch the remuneration to compensate his ability. By mid 80s he was nowhere and not exactly in great economic shape. He took to alcohol, which probably cut short his life and career. Akshaya Mohanty visited America multiple times and enthralled the NROs (Non Resident Odias) with his nostalgic songs. My memory goes back to 1979, just back from America, he was quoted in the popular local daily SAMAJA, that even cats and dogs are better off in America. Soon came out a song composed and recorded by him, based on his American experience, AMERICA RE PREMA HUE BEECH ROAD UPARE, AAU CUTTACK RE PREMA HUE RASTHA PACHHARE. (Love in America is a road side show, In Cuttack love happens behind Rickshaw). India has come a long way since 1979, economically much advanced. The young generation since have lifted their veil of shyness, moved to parks and pubs, as hand pulled Rickshaws have given way to their Auto cousins. Saluting the Maestro and wishing him a Happy Birthday, let me end my ode to him with this funny number, which he most probably penned himself, "PREMIKARA BARIADE BAIDHANKA AU BICHHUATA BANA... DEKHIBAKU MANA CHHANA CHHANA KUNDAAI KUNDAAI GALA PRANA".. Roughly transliterated " My beloved's backyard has a jungle Filled with Poison Ivy, In the eagerness to watch her stealthily, I had to scratch myself heavy."

Tendency of many Odias to talk in Hindi these days

The other day in a Facebook group, couple of Odias were chatting in Hindi. "YEH PHOTO DIKHAI NAHI DETA", said one Ms. Pati. " ZOOM KARKE DEKHO, AAPKO SAHI DIKHAI DEGA", responded Mr. Mohanty. Unable to resists my inherent temptation of trespassing with unsolicited satirical remarks, I wanted to play a bit with them. So I interspersed their tete a tete with my remark - "It's interesting to see two pure Odias talking amongst themselves in chaste Hindi." Weird is this latest inferiority complex prevalent in the new generation, especially in the Twin City of Cuttack - Bhubaneswar. It wasn't so during my growing up days, though an angry, agiated Odia would occasionally switch to SAALE KO DEKH LENGE in Hindi ( SAALA means wife's brother, but in this context means, I am the seducer of your sister). But non-agitated Odias, under normal conditions of temperature and pressure, are talking in Hindi these days. My sandwiched opinion put a break in their conversation, raising a red flag, hitting their nerve. As usual they resorted to instant GALUAMI, (the Odia term for stubbornly defending oneself, even aware of being wrong). Came their defense in fortified Nationalism, "Hindi is our national language, so we are chatting in Hindi". One of them I presume a fake Id (many facebook groups are flooded with males masquerading as females, only to gain companion of the fairer sex). Sure, everyone is entitled to converse in any language, whether in Hindi or anything else. And it's non of other's business. But that's besides the point, as both being Odia from Twin City, they didn't have. I lived in many places outside Odisha, where the natives love and adore their mother tongue. No idea, why the present generation of Odias (usual disclaimers apply) want to talk in Hindi, when the closest non-Odia would be miles away. Doesn't make sense. Ashok invaded Kalinga in 261 BC and earned a Pyrrhic victory after a lot of bloodshed. But no bloodshed was necessary when outside cultural invasion slowly conquered the Twin City' when the current generation youth invited the influence in open arms. CHHENA (cheese) has become Paneer, often pronounced as "Paneeyari" in local accent. Sangeet ceremony and Punjabi dance has taken over the marriage celebrations, not to mention the greasy out of state food flooding the menu. Many TV anchors and youngsters now a days prefer to speak in a fake, accented Odia liberally interspersed with Hindi and English. Odia movies have a sizable amount of Hindi laced dialogues, delivered with a fair share of South Indian voluptuous dance movements. We have become a net importer of alien culture, hardly exporting our's, running a net deficit. No wonder we Odias are a fast changing breed, brooding over other's culture and traditions. The eminent writer Khushwant Singh once wrote that the way the Sikhs are getting rid of their facial hair and turbans soon they would cease to be a separate identify, eventually melting with Hindus. Won't be surprised if the same fate awaits the Odias, their culture and traditions could very much face an extinction in the next quarter of century.

Memoreis from the Barabati Stadium

Barabati Satdium, Cuttack is in the news for wrong reasons, but it brings back nostalgic memories from past. In 1979, as a 10 year old cricket fan, I was watching a match between the touring Australian team and India at that venue. The gallery was full of transistor wielding spectators. I starkly remember during Australia's fielding, a  guy shouting HE HE (hear ye) Hilditch and threw a half eaten apple towards him. (Andrew Hildtich, the Aussie player, was the solicitor son-in-law of legendary cricketer Bobby Simpson). Hilditch returned the compliments gesturing like a Monkey, hardly a complimentary one. 

Mid afternoon, the Odia commentator's announcement blared from multiple transistors, "CHA PAANA BIRATI", or Tea Break. The person who was next told me nonchalantly , that the players will go outside for tea and chew a few betel leaves (PAAN) during this break, hence the name "CHA PAANA BIRATI". I believed him and imagined Alan Border along with Kim Hughes going out to a Kiosk outside and ordering GOPAL ZARDA (scented tobacco laced) PAAN, followed by a "Cutting Chai", brewed from a coal oven. However I took it for granted that Rabi Panda, a player representing Odisha those days probably be doing so.

Less than three years later came January 1982 and I came back to the same venue to watch the first ever One Day International match in Odisha. This game was unique and one of it's kind. For the first time an international match involving team India was going to be played at the picturesque stadium. India's opponent, a formidable English side, with star studded players, which included the likes of Botham, Gooch, Gower and Willis.

 

Enthusiasm was building up in anticipation of the match. There was a huge demand for the tickets, selling like hot cakes. My father managed to get couple of them, giving an ardent cricket fan in me the most cherished opportunity of life time. The demand was so huge, that a few government officials were openly selling their passes in the black market. 

 

My heart was pounding fast with unbridled excitement. Now I am going to actually see those I see regularly on Sportstar, Sportsweek and Sportsworld, the popular Sports magazines of the time.Finally the D-Day arrived. We got up early at 4 AM and proceed towards Cuttack, as we were told in advance that there were many fake ticket holders. It was wise for us to get inside the stadium before it got full. (Later I learnt that thousands of spectators with valid tickets were denied entry into the stadium. Ineptness of the authorities 30 plus years ago was replicated again, yesterday.)

 

The match commenced on time. There was no TV, but dad's friend who was one of the commenters in Odia, showed me the TV cameras. I gaped at them. (TV hasn't yet come to Odisha and won't come until the month of November, the same year, thanks to the Asian Games). I had my pocket transistor with me. England batted first with the Oriya commentary blaring " GOOCHA AAU COOKA (Gooch and Cook in Oriya accent) THIA HOICHANTI AAU MAHANADI PATU KAPIL DEV ASILE( are standing and from Mahanadi rive side Kapil Dev is walking in).

 

At lunch we helped ourselves with cold Puri and sticky Potato curry brought from home.  It was a long day. India easily won the match. After the match, we came out of the stadium, squeezing our nostrils using fingers, emanating from the yellow rivulets of urine almost flooding the exit gates. Finally got back home tired, with tons of memories to cherish down the lane.

3 years later in December 1984, England was at the verge of defeat, with the dangerous Allan Lamb still at crease. It was getting dark and England's defeat was a foregone conclusion. The spectators turned on their torch (flashlights) in unison to light up the stadium, for the game to continue. I left the stadium to beat the rush so that I can be back home before the roads get crowded. On my way, I learnt that Lamb swung the match in England's way by hitting several sixes of Yashpal Sharma. That was the last I saw of Yashpal Sharma, Lamb ending his career for good.  It was also the last time I watched any sporting event at that venue.

Burglary in my neighborhood

In my last blog on gun culture in America, I mentioned about the weapons acting as a deterrent against burglars. Reminds me of few years back, when in a short span of time, there were three burglaries inside Indian homes, all within two miles from my house. The closest victim was my neighbor from Gujarat, who lives hardly 100 feet from my house.

 

It was a Saturday, the weekend following Diwali (most Indian festivals are celebrated the following weekend in America). Most DESIs (a common way of addressing PIOs in America, in Odisha Desi is the term used to describe Pariah dogs) were expected to be at different Diwali parties across the town.

The intruders apparently did their homework before picking their target house, taking both Gold and Guns into account. I am sure they must have taken my home into consideration, but expected (and rightly so) my much richer neighbor is much more worthy of a target.

 

It was 8 PM when the unwelcome guests entered through their back door. Their alarm went off, blaring high decibel siren. The owners who were at their POTEL (Motels in US are owned by so many Patels, that they can very well be called as Potels) were promptly informed by the Alarm company. The intruders didn't stay long. Armed with gold detector, they grabbed the jewelries and fled in few minutes before the police arrived. Fortunately, the stuff they got were mostly imitation (fake) ones, so the owner's loss was minimal.

 

All these things happened and I had no clue (In America, there could be commotion in your neighbor's house without you having an iota of idea what's going on). After this incident, my neighbors made their home a Fort Knox, enhancing their security system with all possible features. They also brought a new member to their household in form of a dog (not sure about gun). Being strictly vegetarians who had never brought meat inside their house, they had to adjust feeding lamb meat (in form of dog food) to their huge, calf sized canine.

The Monday after this incident, whatever few jewelry we had, shifted their residence from my home to Bank Locker. Ever since, I live with the law of Averages, as my neighbor's home was chosen, I would be left alone for a while. Anyway, the stuff I carry inside my house won't worth a bucket of warm spit for the burglars, not worthy enough for them to take a risk.  

Shooting in Oregon

A gunman went on shooting rampage in a sleepy, small town College in Oregon. One more avoidable tragedy, and many more to come, unless something drastic is done about gun control in America.

Gun culture is ingrained in American spirit and blood for centuries, resulting in bountiful of bloodshed, since the nation got its independence. They take their 2nd Amendment, i.e. "Right to bear Arms" quite seriously, next only to their 1st Amendment of "Freedom of speech".  Americans value their privacy and don't like trespassing on their property. The laws also favor the gun owners. If you kill an intruder in your house, most likely you can get acquitted for self defense by the Jury.

 

No doubt guns provide deterrent to intruders, who would think twice before breaking into an American home. It probably explains why many houses of PIOs (Persons of India Origin) have been burgled in recent past, for they are perceived as hoarding lots gold and having no guns for protection.

Couple of Falls ago, I called a Plumber. I watched standing on my driveway, as the strapping 6 feeter closed in his mini truck. Something instantly caught my eyes. All that glitters may not gold, but it can be a Gun. I could not miss the sight of it lying on back of his truck, shining under a bright Fall sun. Though safely ensconced, the sight of a rifle, interspersed with thick bullets sent a chill down my spine, chiller than the cold Autumn air.

 

He could sense my discomfort and his nonchalant response of getting ready for the upcoming hunting season assuaged me. I could breathe easier now. Our tete a tete continued. Apart from this hunting rifle, he owned 5 more guns, totaling half a dozen. I asked him "why you need so many of this weapon? Don't you trust police". His response "Police would come in minutes, but it takes seconds for someone to shoot".

 

Point well made. Though the Oregon gunman was killed by the police before he an out of ammo, he still managed to kill a dozen or so. At the same time I pondered back home the police would take hours sometimes days to arrive. I hope he has not seen those Bollywood movies, when the legendary Inspector Saab Jagdish Raj takes his sweet time to arrive at the crime scene.

 

An average American family carry multiple guns. Many, including women carry them inside the car dashboards. One can easily buy guns, available in shops, dime a dozen. The other day some one at work was surprised to know that I don't have guns. "What if some one tries to break into your property", he asked. I said, "I will call police. Wont you do that ?" I asked. "No, I would first kill that Son of a Gun ( meaning bast***)."

 

I could not imagine myself as a gun slinging Cowboy on a shooting spree. It's way beyond my wildest Wild Wild West fantasy I have never held a gun in my life, let alone fired one. Neither did anyone in my extended 14 generations from both sides. I have no intention of being ambitiously different. God bless America and save innocent lives from untimely deaths.

Happy Birthday to Bapu

Happy Birthday to the man about whom Albert Einstein said, "It's hard a believe such a man in flesh and blood ever walked on the surface of earth". He wasn't far from truth, the man he was referring to, earned it. He is non other than our Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi, popularly known as Mahatma (the famous soul) Gandhi.

Newton's 3rd Law says every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Every violent action would naturally follow with an equal or more violent reaction, continuing the never ending cycle of revenge. But Mahatma Gandhi decided to fight violence in exactly opposite manner, something different called "Non-violence".

 

He experimented it in South Africa against Apartheid and subsequently applied the same in India against the British rule. He experimented with different vices and virtues early in his life, prompting him to write "My Experiment with Truth". However after his wife's death, his experiment of sleeping naked with his nubile niece, attracted some controversies.

 

His method of protest being unique, caught the attention of the world, at a time when electronic media was at its infancy. The world stood up and took notice, appalled when the DANDI March protesters were brutally brought down by the DANDA (stick) of British Police. The victims did not show an iota of retaliation or remorse. His ideology of non-violence was later replicated by Dr. Martin Luther King, half a world away in United States to fight for Civil Rights. Dr. King, like his idol Gandhi was assassinated, but vindicated the efficacy of "Non-violence".

When India celebrated its independence, brought arguably by the non-violence means, instead of celebrating, Gandhiji spent the day praying and fasting. He was steadfast in his pursuit for Hindu-Muslim unity, but India was partitioned amidst bloody violence on communal lines, exactly opposite to what he stood for.

 

Post partition, Pakistan asked India to pay Rs.48 crore (480 million), a princely sum those days. India refused to oblige. Bapu (as Gandhi was popularly addressed as) wanted India to pay the money to younger brother Pakistan and went on fasting, forcing India to relent. Pakistan used that lump sum amount of money to buy arms, certainly not directed towards Iran or Russia. Gandhi was an idealist. But his idealism failed as he fell to an assassin's bullet.

 

After his death, his countrymen hardly retained his ideologies. India continued to be riddled with violence of all sorts, later in form of terrorism. The current affairs of our nation can aptly be described by these few lines lifted from the Odia song LE NABEENA from 1981, depicting the sad saga of the Mahatma. (Nabeena here depicts the Odia version of Johny, no relation to any person dead or alive).

 

LE NABEENA TIKE PACHHAKU ANA,
HATHE BAADI DHARI THIA BAPUJI NANA,
BAPUJI BUDHA RA AAKHI RE LUHA,
TA RAMA RAIJE AAJI YAMA RA BHAYA

( O' Nabeena, take a peek behind.
Stick in hand Old man Bapuji is standing,
The old man's eyes are filled with tears,
Yama, the God of death has filled
His Dream Land with fear.)