Happy New Year 2017

The year 2016 paves way for the next teen year of the Millennium to step in, the year 2017. As the old man 2016 bends his spine, extending his hand and opens the door to welcome New Year, it's time for some introspection. 

 

A la getting rid off old cloths for the new one, the soul moving from one body to another as famously extolled by Lord Krishna in BHAGWAT GITA, 2016 is reborn again at midnight tonight. The new year dawns as the cherubic smile of a newborn as another number is added to the year.

 

But hardly anything ever changes. Life trudges ahead as just the same shit, different day with different color and texture - as more or less the status quo is maintained. We may forget history but we don't forget to repeat it year after year. Similar to this starting stanza of the Kishore's song

 

EK RUT AAE, EK RUN JAAE PHIR,
MOUSAM BADLENA, BADLE NASEEB.

"One season comes and another goes,
Seasons change not the fateful woes". 

 

This year came with a mixed bag of good, bad and ugly, with additional baggage of memories to roll into next year. Made new friends, revived old ones and lost a few, once and for all. Yet the year comes with this stark reminder - life goes downhill from here, tasks become uphill and years are numbered before I go over the hill. 

 

To me, almost all the New Year wishes expressed over the years have been pleasant enough to makes them forgettable. Homo Sapiens inherent nature is to remember the unpleasant ones. I being no exception, remember this one from 1st January,1982. On the first New Year after his marriage to Diana, Prince Charles wished the nosey British Paparazzi, "Have a Nasty New Year".

 

Let me repeat the forgettable wish, as I do not forget to do at the end of every year, HAVE A WONDERFUL NEW YEAR. Stay blessed.

No accountability fixed post Olympics debacle

During my college days a friend used to tell us the story of the domestic help in his house. Once in a while, the young boy would be paid a few extra bucks to watch movies at a local Cinema Hall -Movie Theater in local parlance.

One such occasion, no sooner the guy returned back after watching a movie, my friend asked him how was it. The boy replied nonchalantly - "HERO ASILA, HEROINE ASILA, HERO NAACHILA, HEROINE NAACHILA, SABU SAIYA", meaning "The hero came, the heroine came, the hero danced, the heroine danced. It's all the same old stuff".

On the aftermath of India's poor performance at this year's Olympics at Rio, mired by our ever flaunting officials mishandling and mistreating our athletes, accountability was fixed with some heads rolling off the block. The forever selfie taking Minister was sacked, followed by the officials who were made accountable, suspended immediately from their service.

Hang on - as the year 2016 comes to an end, nothing of that sort has happened till date. Rather, the corruption tainted Suresh Kalmadi is made a Life President of the Indian Olympics Association - A wrong step in the wrong direction, with a wrong message sent out.

What sucks is that after the Olympics fiasco, so far we have seen little or no accountability. As far as I know, not a single head has rolled, not a single official has been held accountable. The Sports minister, heads of dud Sports bodies, Secretaries (assistant secy, joint, elbow sec, deputy, under or whatever secy), 501 secretaries with 601 different ranks, have been untouched so far.

The rehabilitation of an inept and corrupt official in Kalmadi neither sends the right message, nor augurs well for the future of our Sports. Cometh the next Olympics at Tokyo in year 2020, miles of ribbons will be cut and plenty of inagurations made, all by our pot bellied, lily white Dhoti (loincloth) Clad Netas and equally pot bellied Babus. Ironically most of those will take place on sports arenas, with their attires and figures neither bearing any sportive look or suggesting a sportive outlook. 

We may not have the same person as the Sport minister then, who unlike our bureaucrats, will be accountable to the electorates in the next election of 2019. There is no guarantee that he will win. Even in such an eventuality, it can't be assured of he getting in charge of the Sports Ministry.

But what is guaranteed, is the time bound promotions Sub deputy to Deputy secy, Deputy to under secy, Under to above secy, the Super secy to Super Duper Secy and so on. They would have tilled on stacks of files, wasting (synonymous with looting) tons of money from public exchequer, rubbing their moustache sans accountability (glad they have a retirement age of 60).

End result ? Expect more or less the same at the next Olympics. A la the pair of Sindhu and Sakhi last time, we will see a Sita and Geeta, Ram aur Shyam, Sakhi and Rakhi saving our grace once again. Those officials who till then be ignoring the medal winners, will pull up the sleeves of their Safari suits to pose for selfies with the nascent winners.

It yet forces me to repeat my often quipped colloquial Odia proverb, 

NARATTOMA DASA KAHE,

KOU SALA BHALA NUHE.  

Roughly transliterated, 

Narottam Das says; Not a single SALA (scoundrel) is a good Fella. 

Suresh Kalmadi, accused of corruption during the Congress regime is now back firmly in saddle in a BJP led government, the factor remaining constant are the Bureaucrats, our public servants. But our servant 30 years ago was way ahead of time, as his saga of SABU SEIYA (all the same) continues.

Rise Of fake Nationalism

Judging the pulse from the News feeds on facebook, I can't miss the conspicuous rise of fake nationalism, divisiveness and intolerance. It wasn't so much during my growing up days. Due to the access to ever pervading Internet and Google, there is this rise of a huge, nascent society of "SUBZANTAWAALAHs" (Know Alls), leading to an overdose of pompousness. Any contradictory or balanced view is often frowned upon, ends up as the casualty of the day.

I am no BHAKT (devotee) of any human being. I religiously consider myself an Agnostic and a rare visitor of temples. But I do give credit where credit is due. If I praise Modi on his efforts of "Demonetization" (even some of his detractors grudgingly admit so) - it neither makes Modi a Mr. Lily White, nor makes me a trident holding supporter of communal riots.

At the same time, I believe the Kareena-Saif duo have every right to give any name of their choice to their child. One doesn't need to be critical of Saif - Karina duo to prove oneself as a Champion Hindu Nationalist and Patriot. Such a view shouldn't be construed as a spite against Hindus or Hindustan. Life ain't black and white - there is always 50 shades of Gray and always a middle path to chose.

So why this false vanity and fixation on (fake) fanaticism ? The reason can be attributed to our deep rooted inferiority complex after being ruled by foreigners for eternity. As many Odias whose prefer to speak in Hindi with another fellow Odia when the nearest non Odia could be miles away - we tend to imimate, rather than cultivate the positive traits of others. A la the famous NILA BARNA SHRUGALA (Blue coated Jackal), we end up as the imitator of the lion king, never ever close to being the King.

The root can be traced back to Before Christ (327 BC), when Alexander defeated King Puru was betrayed by Raja Ambi. After a good thousand years or so Muhammdad Bin Qasim in 712 AD created the stepping stone for Islamic invasion when he defeated the Hindu King Dahir, the later being betrayed by his minister.

Then came Mohd Ghori to replace Prithviraj Chauhan as the last Hindu king. Our history has been laced with tepid rulers and betrayals of corrupt insiders. We had our share of Jaichands, Shiladityas (who helped Allauddin Khilji who was after the legendary beauty Rani Padmini), Mir Jaffers and the backstabbers of Queen Chenamma. Thanks to the wall of the Himalayas, we survived the marauding Mongols - it could have been real worse, with Chinese claiming India as an extension of Tibet.

We never gained our independence on a battlefield, rather let the British bid their own time to leave. We got our freedom without much bloodshed - only blood we shed being lathicharged and from bullet wounds on our back while fleeing, not on our chest while fighting (the usual exceptions apply). A hard battle fought freedom would have acted as a morale booster, taking our nation in a different direction

Per Khushwant Singh in his book "India - An introduction", British ruled us with the support of the majority of Indians. The freedom movement was led by the richer and upper class, upper caste Hindus. The lower caste and the poor class (India was mired in extreme poverty days prior to Independence) was more bothered about the next meal - would care less if a Viceroy, Jawahar or Jinnah ruled them. The Sikhs and the Muslims had overwhelming support for the British, the later preferred to be ruled by them than a Hindu majority India. No sooner than the idea of Pakistan was floated, they jumped on to the new nation bandwagon led by Jinnah. The rest we know is history.

On the 70th year post independence, it's time for some introspection. All nations who earned their freedom and power in the real sense, have flexed their muscle sometime or other in history. Examples are British, Germans, Russian, Americans, Japanese and of late the Chinese, who feel their time to flex their 6 packs has arrived. We are still considered a weak nation by our recalcitrant neighbor, who instead of peeing at the sight of our might, frequently pee in our backyard and flees without the slightest fear or remorse.

We have been caught pants down by our western neighbor on regular basis for last quarter of century. All I can do as the home owner, is condemn him more and more severely, as he mocks at us while relieving and shaking off himself on our own turf. After tolerating his nuisance since time immemorial, once in the middle of the night I secretly go 5 feet inside his fence, pee and come back claiming a great victory, with many of my family members at home still skeptic about the veracity of my boasting.

After 25 years being royally screwed fair and square by Pakistan, with its ISI proving far efficient and effective than our Secret service RAW which was pretty much cooked - a late and disputed Surgical strike not withstanding which takes us to a celebratory mode. So much so that a goal scored by India against Pakistan is attributed as a "Surgical Strike". No question our National security establishment is getting up to speed, but we have some catch up to do.

I am now reminded of Aamir Khan in his iconic movie "3 IDIOTS - SUCCESS KE PICHHE MAT BHAGO. KAVIL BANO. EK DIN SUCCESS TUMHARE PICHHE BHAGEGA". It means, "Don't chase success. Be capable. One day Success will chase you". Its time for India to build its economic spine and the rest will follow its own course. We don't have to chase the world powers, the world powers will chase us. World respects those who command respect, not demand it. And I am positive we will command one day, but it ain't time to pop up Champagne with fake nationalism.

Naming of Kareena - Saif's son

In the movie AMAR PREM (Immortal Love) when the nautch girl Sharmila Tagore tells Rajesh Khanna not to come to her abode as it gives BADNAAM (bad name) to her upper class paramour, the Superstar's response was via Kishore Kumar's epic song

KUCHH TO LOG KAHENGE,

LOGON KA KAAM HAI KEHNA.

Transliterated...

Something folks would say,

Their nature is to say something.

That was the year 1974.

Seven years later in 1981, Kishore's son Amit Kumar got Filmfare award in movie "Love Story" for his song "TERI YAAD A RAHI HAI" (Your thoughts come to me). Many accused Kishore Kumar, the one man Bollywood singer of the time, using his influence to tilt the coveted Award towards his son. 

When Amit Kumar aprised his dad about this innuendo, Kishore said to have famously replied - "BETA. KUCHH TO LOG KAHENGE, LOGON KAKAAM HAI KEHNA. TUM SIRF SOOR MAIN GAATE HI REHNA". Something folks would always say, because they have to say something. You simply continue to keep singing in tune.

Fast forward to the year 2030, when the grandson of the same nautch girl Sharmila from AMAR PREM, a teen Taimur Ali confronts his parents - "Why didn't you go through all the history books and take permission from everyone on Facebook on a Notarized Stamp paper to chose the name of your offspring ?". His parents respond could very well be,

KUCHH TO LOG KAHENGE

LOGON KA KAAM HAI KEHNA.

BETA, TUM APNA KAAM

KARTE HI REHNA.

Chal Chal Chal Mere Ram Piari

Recently I saw a song from an Amitabh movie where the ageless star pushes his car, with an overweight and overaged Amrita Singh looking over. The song was CHAL CHAL MERE RAM PIARI (Walk on, oh walk on my John Doe), where the Mega star's car named RAM PIARI (the Indian version of the common name Johny) walks besides him, sometimes smiling and winking at him.

This lively car is apparently alive and kicking, obeys the order of his master who stands and dances outside to the tune of this song.

This movie was from a time when Amitabh Bachhan, though at his declining phase, was still the one man Bollywood industry. So much so that, producers like Manmohan Desai et all churned out one junk after another from him. The girls opposite to him were mostly discarded actresses ftom yesteryears, who had nothing to lose and everuthing to gain from standing next to the aging superstar.

Not long ago, I was watching another junk INSAANIYAT (Humaneness) churned out of the legendary actor's superstardom. Lowering expectations, I continued watching it with some degree of amusement. As expected, Amitabh stood taller, towering above both his co-actors Chunky Pandey and Sunny Deol.

The overshadowed duo in this typical Bollywood formula movie would duel it out to secure their own turf, until our Super hero Amitabh, the peacemaker arrives at the scene. Chunky comes dancing like a monkey, together with Sunny Deol start singing locking their arms around each other "TU MERA BHAI, MEIN TERA BHAI (you are my brother, I am your brother). 

Their bromance (brotherly romance) continued, as the song progresses they wrap arms around each other's waist and touching each other's cheek just short of kissing. Any westerner who would see this might mistake Chunky and Sunny as perfectly eligible for gay marriage.

They shake their hands and legs a lot to which the apparently visible crowd of bystanders in the background hardly care. But things change when Amitabh joins in at the end of the the song to shake his long lanky legs a little bit as a fitting finale to the song sequence with the crowd erupting with cheer. 

The same would apply to many movies of our time, when Mithun or Govinda would dance their hearts out but a single leg swish from Amitabh will madden the audience with whistles and applause. Sitting on my sofa and watching this movie, I could feel transported to a vicarious deja vu which engulfing me, recapturing these scenes at movie theatres and my Engineering College Audio Visual (AV) Hall, as they would erupt at the slight shake of the superstar's long, lanky legs.

It's another matter, I can't watch such movies these days, even if someone buys me a movie ticket to a Dolby Digital Theater, along with ample supply of pop corns, soda and headache relieving Mortrins, you still wont be able to drag me to watch this movie again. But those were the days of unique dominance in Bollywood by a unique actor.

Gone are those days. Now only two remaining superstars on their own rights are Amitabh who is already into his 70s and the Tamil icon Rajnikanth who is inching towards 70. With no one presently commanding the same stature, after them the concept of "one man industry" is destined to die its own natural death.

Hindi Serials These Days

SAAS - BAHU (Mother-in-law and daughter-in-law) episodes are so passe. Now a days the Hindi Tele serials fall into mostly three categories, often old wine sold inside new bottle :

1. MYTHOLOGY -  Mahabharat, Ramayan or recycled versions of the same in the guise of "Surya Putra Karn" , "Hanuman" and again the same name "Mahabharat". Hairs of the actors are invariably long, Shakuni still limps and twitches his moustache running over his beard, rubs his palms to roll over the invisible dice, perpetually playing his game, even if he is not actually playing opposite to Yudhisthir. Duryodhan is more muscular with six packs, a sign of changing times. 

2. HISTORY - (80% fiction and 20% history). Best example is "Chakravartin Ashok", where it the King of Kalinga (modern day Odisha) is named as Jagannath. I am not aware of any king of Odisha with such a name around when the famous Kalinga was fought in 261 BC.

Neither, there is any mention in history of Karuwaki, the princess of Kalinga living in Magadh and engaged to Ashok. Nor did King of Kaling, the state who valiantly fought against Ashok, ultimately handing the later a Pyrrhic victory, was a petty thief who stole the revenue from Magadh while he was Bindusar's royal guest, as shown in the serial.

 

Nor I think Karuwaki jumped down a 500 feet waterfall, followed moments later by Ashok. Both come out miraculously unscathed and unscratched, with a moon eyed Karwaki swoons over, being held by the muscular arms of her Knight In Shining Armor Ashok.

 

3. BHOOT PRET WALI : The TANTRA MANTA (black magic), the Ghost & Ghoul serials. They are more comic than horror, but seems pretty popular with the masses. The 2 feet long bearded Tantrik (Black magic man), who weaves his black magic over. The magic weaver can occasionally be a woman too, who substitutes her lack of hair with a big red dot of SINDUR, or vermilion on her forehead) casting her spell chanting MA TARA MA (Hail to Goddess Tara).

 

In one such serials, I saw a Trantrik slow roasting humans who are dangled upside down like tandoori (broiled) chicken over funeral pyre. The dripping juice from their body is collected on a glass vessel to be used for future application as VASHIBHOOT VIDYA (the art enchanting someone into submission).

 

Most of these episodes, which are supposed to be 30 minutes long, are actually 16 minutes serial and 14 minutes of commercials. But 16 minutes of entertainment for masses nevertheless.

RIP Jayalalithaa

A tea stall owner once cut off his tongue as he had made an offering to God if his PURATCHI THALAIVAR or revolutionary leader gets elected, he will sacrifice so. Now that she is no more, many are going to kill themselves in grief as the day dawns in India. The reason, their Demi Godesses Amma is no more.

Jayalalithaa, popular as Amma, was one of the movie stars who migrated to the world of politics following the footsteps of her mentor MGR, a cine Superstar in Tamil Nadu - a state where a very thin line divides between tinsel town and politics.

Movie industry in Tamil Nadu is no ordinary business, especially in this Southern state of India where it's a way of life. The treatment of Movie stars would put Gods to shame, who would feel jealous looking at the adulatory worship some of the mere mortals can command on earth.

So much so that if the Matinee Idol MGR, a two time Chief Minister of the state, sipped a glass of Orange juice, the leftover would be mixed in buckets of water and offered as PADUKA (sacred offering) to the fans who would make beeline for it.

Cine actors are known to have a different reel life vs real life, many with double lives and double wives and MGR was no different. The duality is best symbolized by "Two Leaves", the symbol of AIADMK party which he founded and steadfastly steered through. Though MGR never smoked or drank on screen, he was known to drink in private, his favorite being Gin. Jayalalithaa was his known other woman in life, who became the de facto career of his mantle.

But Gods are known to fall. Mere mortals are after all mortals. MGR passed away after a long battle with ailments, passing the baton to Jaya, who soon became a Goddess by her own rights - so much so that voyeuristic display of wealth accumulated via illegal means, multiple corruption scandals and propagation of a culture of obeisance didn't stop her to make incredible political comebacks. 

But Godesses on earth are mortal too. After struggling for several weeks in hospital, she finally breathed her last. Obituaries and RIP messages poured causing deluge on social media. I had to scroll a mile down on my phone till my finger hurt, so also my eyes seeing no end to RIP messages. 

We Indians are a bunch of emotionals. Unlike the West where Obituaries can can be pretty judgemental, we tend to dwell on only the positive side of a dead person, given the negativity a pass. Though marred by corruption, nepotism and high handedness, Jayalatihaa will go down the history as a lady who carved her niche on her own way, leaving behind a vaccum - this time no Matinee Idol ready to pick up the baton. May she RIP.

Ten Coomandments of a Khanti (Pure) Odia

You're not a KHANTI (true) Odia from our generation, unless you follow the following 10 commandments.

1. You have been chastised, some affable and adorable, some not so much - "GADHA" (donkey), BALADA (Bullock), "GHUSURI" (pig), GANDA MURKHA (Diehard moron), CHORA (Thief) and CHANDALA (Uncouth one).

2. Your staple food is BHATA and DAALI (Rice and Dal), taken as dollops of GUNDA (a mound of rice and dal blend) liberally tossed into my volcanic, open mouth using fingertips. 

If from Puri background, RUTI (Chapatti) and DALMA (Dal mixed with hard veggies) is our standard dinner - with occasional milk or milk based sweets thrown in the menu.

2. You are not an Odia, especially of Puri origin, unless  you follow the 4 golden principles of

SANGA (A circle of friends)

BHANGA (A conciction of cannabis consumed in evening assures you a sound sleep followed by a flawless bowel movement next morning)

SANGEETA (Love for music)

PANGATA (Gluttony)

3. "BUJHILU, BHALA PATHA PADHI BHALA CHAKIRI KARIBU. DAKTARA, ENGINEERA, IAS HABU. AMUKA RA PUA PATHA NA PADHI CHHATARA, BAZAARI HEI GALA". (Understand, you need to do well in studies to get a good job as doctor, engineer or an IAS. So and so's son didn't study well, turning out to be a girl chasing, free roaming vagabond). Academics is the only passport to success, where failure is not an option. Any job beyond doctor, engineer or IAS is unacceptable, with the soul exception of the POLISI CHAKIRI (Police job).

MACHHA KHAIBA ILISI

CHAKIRI KARIBA POLISI"

"Hilsa is the fish you should cherish;

The job you should do is Police".

4. Tulu, Bulu, Kalia, Babuli, Kuna, Kuni, Nina, Mini is the nickname your friends and relatives prefer to address you. Behind your back, it's often a combo of your nickname and last (sur) name or an alias. Examples - Bunu Panda, Muna Sarangi, Lulu Patnaik and so on. A la Newton's law, here goes the Odia law of Names - Nickname overrides first name, with the last name remaining constant.

They come juxtaposed to form an alias, such as MOTA, MOTU (he fatty), MOTI (She fatty), PETA (potbellied), POTALA (Rotund), PENA or PENI (He or she Nincompoop), DHAIN (Useless), GEDA or GEDI (He or she shorty), LAMBU, DENGU,(He tall), DENGI (She tall), TERA or TERI ( He or she squint), MIAN or PATHANA for Muslims , e.g. PETA Bulu, GEDA Gopala, Haq MIAN, PENA Prafulla and so on.

5. Our concept of beauty - A tall, lanky girl, however pretty may be is written off a DENGI GHODI (Tall Mare) vs a Plump, fair, stocky girl being a DAUL DOWL (Chubby) beauty - the fair complexion rules the roost.

6. Combo of CHUDA KADALI (Parched rice squeezed with Banana) with NADIA (especially in Puri where ample coconuts are available) is our breakfast, BARA and GUGUNI (Lentil donuts soaked in chick pea curry) is the evening snack. Dinner before 9.30 PM must be frowned upon. PITHA (Rice based cakes) is a must for festive occasions.

7. A siesta is much sought after, post a stomachful, sumptuous lunch of PAKHALA eaten in our unique way - Rice soaked in water chaffed out from the mix, followed by lifting the bowl to the lips to suck off the TORANI (The leftover water from PAKHALA, the more BASI or stale it is, more sleep it induces).

8. Come Sundays, come lunchtime, it's mutton time (Goat meat day). BHATA MANSA, BHOJI BHATA. Any celebratory occasion calls for a FEESTI (feast) of Rice with goat meat curry, a sorta status symbol, goat being the costliest meat in town.

9. HAIRE KEMITI ACHHU (Hey, how are you ?) will always be greeted by "HA BHAI CHALICHI" (Yes, bro. Just going on). LAZA KARENI, PETA PUREI GANDE BHATA KHA (Don't feel shy, Eat a stomachful of rice, no food other than rice can get you a sense of fulfillment). A MISSI CALL (Missed call) on a phone must be fast returned, lest it earns the anguish and wrath of the caller.

10. For us Odias, the unit of measurement of distance is not miles, but minutes. No one is ever more than 5 minutes in away. "ARRE KOUTHI ACHHOO?" (Hey, Where are you ?) is invariably followed by an imprompu response - “BHAI AU MANCHA MINTI RASTA" (Bro, Another 5 minutes away). It's another matter, an hour before I heard the same "BHAI AU PANCHA MINTI..."

Trump calls on the Taiwanese leader

Trump talks to the Taiwan leader over phone - something no American President has dared to do in last 37 years. Obviously China is irked and pissed off.

US and all those powers who matter have adhered to the "One China policy" - recognition of Mainland China as the real China, which is a tacit way of acknowledging Taiwan being a renegade province of the real China.

On the other hand, the official position of the nations in the world who matter, with exception of India is Kashmir is still a "Disputed" territory, thanks to Jawaharlal Nehru and the Mandarins of North Block (houses our experts of foreign policy).

Reminded me of the liberally Hindi mixed Odia saying..

"ABE PARASU, JABE PARASU,
BABU PARASURAM;
PAISA KYA NA KARE KAAM."

Roughly transliterated....

Come Peter, Go Peter,
Oh My Lord Peter,
Money Can do Awesome wonders.

Money talks, money matters, money builds Diplomatic backbone. China has proved beyond that.

Politics and Imagery - A matter of perception

At his first post election rally yesterday in Cincinnatti, President-Elect Trump with his trademark hand pumping and trumping gesture said, "People pouring into our country from Middle East".

This is of course a far fetched outlandish statement, no where close to the truth. Much more people come from India which is farther east of Middle East and China, which is Far East. So also East Europeans, Latinas - far more than those migrate from the Middle East.

Yet, for Middle Americans from the middle class, it connects well with the image of marauding Muslim killers from Middle East, coming in droves to snatch their life and freedom.

Trump went on, reflecting on his victory - "It's so big. It's so enormous. It's so amazing". His bombadistic words punched with superlatves like "Great", "Fantastic" etc immediately strikes a cord with the applauding audience.  

Why it's so ? More than the actual object, it is its image which virtually matters. Imagery laced with emotions created inside the brain has a longer lasting effect, which casts itself into a larger than life impression, which facts or reasoning may not fathom. It probably explains why we remember the emotional moments in life more than the moments defined by logic. 

Another politician who has mastered this art of imagery is Narendra Modi. Politics and the image associated with it is after all a matter of perception, the reality be damned.