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.

Asios Windy city - Chicago trip 2016

Now the time arrives to bid adieu to the Windy city, post some wonderful time spent with the cherished company of family and friends. Age and having lived  long in South has taken a toll on my cold tolerance. Thankfully, weather for this time of the year was quite cooperative - except couple of days, it stayed seasonal and comfortable.

As the day of departure approaches, the excitement dissipates and a classic role reversal takes place. The ecstatic feeling before making the trip gives rise to a morbid, remorse feeling. In the wee hours of the trip it's the endless cycle of meeting friends and relatives, run errands, packing, weighing, repacking and re-weighing of bags.

What's the similarities between a vacation, a consulting assignment and life ? All have a start date and a end date. Like all good things in life, a vacation has to end one day. A week or a month, however long you stay, it is never enough.

Reinforcing Einstein's Theory of Relativity, vacations get over quickly, time flies where a working day go slow, never ends. Before the Chicago trip I was rejuvenated and filled with energy. Towards the end of the trip I feel jaded,
somewhat depressed. There is always an inherently internal wish you had a few more days to spent.

My visit to the local Jagannath temple of the local Odia society reminded me of this incident from one of my prior trips. It depicts 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.

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 the 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.

Adios Fridel Castro

He defied US way to long. A rare feat by the mighty leader of this tiny island called Cuba, just 90 miles off Key West, the Southern most tip of Florida. He finally died a natural death, in spite of his unnatural death being sought after living dangerously too close to an adversary called America, the Citadel of Capitalism striving hard for decades to eliminate him.

Fidel Castro, the bearded, Chain "Havana Cigar" smoking leader who defied Cancer along with multiple assassination attempts on him, was deified by the Commies World over. From Bay of Pigs from the "Capitalist pigs", to more assassinations attempts. Apparently God was on his side for the man who refused to believe in God. Cat has only 9 lives, Castro reportedly had 638, incuding one by his ex-lover Marita Lorenz.

Revered by many world over for taking on the might of USA, the Cuban Americans of South Florida have a different take on him. He prosecuted and persecuted many in his island nation using brutal tactics, motivating many to risk lives to migrate to United States, just a few hours of boat ride away. Apart from his opponents, his repercussions extended to the Cuban gays whom he loathed as the carriers of the Western disease called Homosexuality.

Castro steadfastly stuck to communism when the rest of the world slowly abrogated it. He refused to endorse the winds of change blowing from the Big Bear Communist Czar land of Soviet Union led by Mikhail Gorbachev's refreshing Glasnost and Perestroika.

As communist nations all over the world crumbled around him, Fidel Castro refused to partake it. He took pride in being the Black Sheep amongst the commie nations, as the only nation to join North Korea in boycotting the Seoul Olympics in 1988. He banned the Russian magazine SPUTNIK in the late 1980s, accusing it of no more toeing the Commie line.

From Dwight Eisenhower in 1950s till Barack Obama, Fidel Castro had dealt 11 US Presidents - most of whom harbored anathema to him, except Jimmy Carter and Obama who were less enemical. In fact, the later lifted embargoes which targeted the Island nation.

The inaguration of Donald Trump in January would have completed the "Dirty Dozens" of the Capitalist pigs he dealt with. But he never lived to see that day,  yet lived long enough to see the changing times.

His citizenry got a glimpse of the outside world and realized that getting rich is fun. As the veil of embargo lifted, with US Cruiseliners, a symbol of American capitalism started cruising towards Havana. His death marks the closing curtains of communism, which he painstakingly thrived over during his long reign. Adios Fidel Castro - Amigo to many, Anathema to the rest.

Thanksgiving Day shopping - 2016

Thanksgiving Day in USA is synonymous with Black Friday shopping. It is the harbinger of the holiday season, which culminates on Christmas day.

Traditionally these 4 weeks between the Thanksgiving and Christmas day are the most profitable phase for all retailers. Whatever loss they might accrued in the last 11 months, they end up recouping in the final month of the peak shopping season.

In accounting, red ink shows a loss on the balance sheet, whereas black ink is used to indicates profit. Hence the name - "Black Friday", as the retailers go black or profitable from the Friday following Thanksgiving.

Now a days it should rather be called "Black Thursday", because stores are open on the Thanksgiving Day itself, rather than the Friday, the day following. With plan to buy a luggage on sale in my mind, I arrived 15 minutes before the 3 PM opening at the local J C Penny store in Chicago suburb.

The line was pretty long, it felt longer while standing for quarter of an hour flushed by a windchill factor of subzero temperature. The conspicuous heavy presence of DESIS (a slang used for Persons of Indian origin in US), nearly half of the crowd surprised me.

Soon I found out the reason. They store was offering $10 coupons per person, a major attraction for freebie loving Desis. A four member family can fetch $40 in free coupons. So buy something for $45 and end up paying only $5.

It reminded me of the huge crowd waiting for KANGALA BHOJANA (food offering for the miserables) on Puri BADADANDA (Broadway). The difference - a different kind of jacket and overcoat clad KANGALAs were standing for cheap products as DAANA (gift) with $10 as DAKHINA (additional tip) in a faraway land.

Inside the store there was no space for mustard seeds to reach the ground, meaning so big was the crowd that even the tiny mustard seed couldn't be accomodated (transliterated from the Odia saying SORISA PAKEIBAKU JAGA NATHILA).

My warm comfort inside the store was short lived, as I was trampled on my feet by a Desi bhai's (brother) trolley and a Desi Behen's (sister) stilletolike shoes. I jostled my way towards the luggage section, tip toeing carefully to avoid any further collison.

A bunch of Travellers luggages were on sale at a corner. Sensing some privacy, a Desi bhai was scratching his private parts in public. It didn't escape my prying eyes. When our eyes met, he appears like a fox caught on headlight. He grimaced back, returning a half baked smile while shaking off and straightening his legs.

I grabbed my share of KANGALA BHOJANA. Combine that with my "Made in China" 5 piece luggage set of which only few were left, the final price came to 32 bucks. Not bad, huh. As I kept rolling on with my just acquired luggage set towards the checkout counter, near the kickenware section, I saw another Desi bhai picking his nose, sticking it to the back of a Toaster and looked around with a "Not I" look on his face. I would like to raise a toast to the guy who bought this nasal toaster.

The next stop was Best Buy, the popular electronics store which opened at 5 PM. It wasn't offering any free coupons. No freebies on menu, no freebies seekers - which explains why unlike the previous store there weren't many Desi bros and sis on the line. Us constitute 1% of US population. In freebie lines we constitute 50%. More later...

Happy Thanksgiving - 2016

It's Thanksgivings Day in America. Like every year this day I take the opportunity to thank all my friends on Facebook for taking the pain and patience to go through my posts. As far as possible I try to inform you, amuse you, occasionally irritate you. But I love you all. Your comments and likes keep me going.

It is always okay to agree to disagree on my views as long as it's not done in an utterly disrespectful way. If I am wrong please free to correct me, but not the freedom of my free thinking.

Ever since I started writing 5 years back, never in my wildest of dreams I imagined coming this far. A decent number of compliments started trickling in, many from unknowns who admit (some grudgingly) enjoying my writing. One went on even further "even if you write junk I still make it a point to read it, don't know why. You have converted Bullshit into a form of Art." I took it as an infallible compliment.

People love spicy stuff, be it food or writing. I may give a long speech about the Odia dish SANTULA (a boiled mix veg dish) or DALMA (a dish of boiled Dal and veggies) being healthy. But in reality I cherish a dish of chilli chicken or goat meat curry. I cater to it, dishing out spice laced flavor.

I get my share of brickbats and gauntlets too, for being occasionally blunt and extrovert. Not long ago, someone inboxed me, threatening me of thrashing upon my arrival at Bhubaneswar for a self deprecating joke alluding to Odias. I responded him back, a la some convict asking for last wish - "May I have my wish fulfilled before getting thrashed ?"

"What" ? He sounded confused. I went on - Before beating me up, please spare  me 5 minutes of your time and a can of JADAA TELA (Castor oil). PITHI RE LAGEI KI ASIBI (I will smear a liberal dosage of it on my back) and you can thrash me to your heart's content. He didn't respond any further.

I am not a brave person, but the threat of being beaten by some lumpen element doesn't disturb my night's sleep. Also, not sure why castor oil is prescribed as an antidote for thrashing and its efficacy. Does it relieve the pain from getting beaten ? Does it act as a lubricant making the marauding hands slip off from one's back ? Not sure.

By no means I feel flattered. It fills me with a feeling of immense gratitude and I extend my wholehearted thanks to them, as their threatening hardly hurts me.

Many solicit advise about writing. My answer to them, is there is no magic bullet. It's like any creative skill. If it's inside you, one day it gonna burst out. So just pen your thoughts and let it take its shape.

Some even suggested me to chose writing as a career. It is a great creative outlet and escape from daily drudgery in life, accompanied by a sense of pleasure and fulfillment. I don't have an iota of doubt about it, so plan to keep penning my thoughts till I go over the hills.

But writing as a profession? I don't think it is a pragmatic path to chose at this stage of my life. There is an immense sense of satisfaction, but frankly no money in this line. No offence to their professions, even the PANA and MADA DOKANIs (betel and liquor shop owners), petty DALAALs (brokers) make more money than writers these days. It's the reality of our age.

My current profession does not pay me a whole lot, but pays my bills, with the additional safety net of some post retirement benefits. A la the electrical Main switch of a house, it keeps the power turned on in my home. Everything else falls in place and would stop once the main Switch is switched off. So at most I will keep it as a hobby, with a book or collection of articles sometime down the road.

To those in USA, HAPPY THANKSGIVING turkey gobble day. To those in Odisha, happy early days of CHHHADAKHAI (fish/meat gobble day). Stay safe and enjoy the day with your family and friends.

On top of Sear Tower - Chicago trip 2016

Any visit to Chicago is incomplete without visiting the famous Sears Towers (now Wills Tower) - one of the tallest buildings in the World, standing tall at 108-story, 1451 feet tall in Chicago downtown.

Close to the lake front, the windchill added to the chill factor. We knived our way through the mad rush of evening homebound crowd, all huffing & puffing towards warmer comfort, exhaling white steam swept away in seconds to be engulfed by the incessant lakefront wind meandering through the cold concrete jungle.

The feel of walking couple of blocks within the sea of overcoats and jackets, wading through vehicles was as overwhelming as the feeling of a village simpleton inside the din and bustle of a big city. The ordeal turned to warm relief, as we turned the turnstiles to enter into the Skydeck entrance of Sears Towers.

The credit towards building this building of architectural marvel goes to a person of Indian origin (technically Bangladesh, where he was born in 1929 it was still part of India). He is FAZLUR KHAN, also known as - The Einstein of Architecture.

Born in Dhaka, educated in Calcutta, he migrated to USA to pursue higher studies. He earned two Masters degrees and PHD in Structural Engineering. Soon after, he was considered as the father of Tubular Design which is used in the construction of high rise buildings.

This design led to the foundation of Sears Tower and dominated the future of skyscrapers business. The man has left his indelible mark building cities in the sky, as most of the more than 40 storied buildings in the World since 1960s use his Tubular Design technology.

BANA MALLI BANA RE PHUTI JHADI JAE - goes the saying in Odia, meaning the Jasmine in the jungle blooms and eventually wilts, its fragrance never to be appreciated. Glad Fazlur Khan's fame spread far and wide, as the whole world  benefied from talent picked and nurtured by United States.

On top of the tower it felt like top of the world. Arrays of blinking light resembled Strings of Pearl strewn over a dark velvet carpet. From a birds eye view they all looked like twinkling stars on a sky fallen flat on surface of the earth.

Dwarfed by Sears Tower but distinctly visible, stood Trump Tower a few miles away, built by another man who must be feeling on top of the world. No one cared about taking a look at it, until now.

My 11 year old was quite forthright about his anticipation of taking a peek at the Trump Tower from the top of Sears Towers. A visibly lone, blinking red light on top of his own Tower should remind Donald Trump that it's always lonely on top of the world.

As the late evening crowd dissipiated, we felt lonely at the top and came down to take comfort in melting into the madding crowd on far from us on the cold sidewalks. More later....

Michael Jackson used my loo and media credibility

Since getting elected, President- Elect Trump has called up the prime ministers of Ireland, Australia, Canada, Japan, Italy, Israel, Denmark and the UK in addition to the presidents of Egypt, Russia, Turkey, France, China, Mexico, Argentina, South Korea and Ukraine. Trump has also spoken to German Chancellor Angela Merkel, United Nations Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon and Saudi King Salman bin Abdelaziz Al-Saud.

Though a call hasn't been yet placed to the Prime minister of India, it may come sooner or later. Our entire media will go ecstatic. The time and duration of the call, the degree of temperature in the warmth of Trump's voice, each word of the conversation will be fully analyzed. How many words in Hindi Trump used will be scrutinized to the core.

In case he doesn't, he may be chastised for not using NAMASTE (salutation) before starting the conversation. A comparison will be made to the more benevolent Obama, who was Modi's old friend Barack in first-name calling terms. It reinforces the notion of our media focussing too much on immaterial sound bites over substance.

Couple of decades ago Michael Jackson made a trip to not yet Mumbai Bombay. He visited MATOSHREE, the residence of Bal Thackarey. After giving the Rockstar a rockstar's welcome, the undisputed Don of Bombay and the self proclaimed Tiger who scared the hell out of the city's citizens, cowered like a kitten, posing for a photograph with MJ.

The lord of Bombay even went on boasting, being privileged of Michael Jackson using his loo. More than the Moonwalker's ever gyrating hips, his residues left in Balasaheb's residence mattered the most (Thanks Dipti bhai for this piece of info).

General Musharaf was the major brain behind the execution of Kargil War in 1999. Only a year after, in 2000, he visited India in the capacity of the President of Pakistan for the much media hyped "Agra Summit". Blood stains had not yet dried on the summit of Kargil Hills, as its chief architect was treated no less than a Rock Star.

Our media went ga ga over the menu of "Commando" Musharaf's breakfast, what he ate for lunch, how close he sat with his wife in front of Taj Mahal, how romantic the couple looked.

The media looked more like an ardent fan of the general. It's another matter that rarely major foreign policy decisions are made under media glare. Media's loss of credibility with the masses is neither new, nor unprecedented. Apparently not much has changed after 20 years.

Day of our tryst with CHAKADOLA in Chicago

Yesterday was the day of our tryst with CHAKADOLA (Round Eyeballs) - one of myriad lovable ways of addressing Lord Jagannath by us Odias.

The Lord was well ensconced inside a small house by the large hearted Odias who are a section of the devoted devotees from the Jagannath Society of Odisha Of Greater Chicago.

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 each house, 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 (oh 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 frequentltryst withy 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 grilled Eggplant ?

Now I could mentally tune in to the local context,

AHE CHAKA AKHIA
TAMA BOPA KALE KHAITHILA KI
BAIGANA SANTULA

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

Chicago Trip 2016 - 19th November

It felt really like the real Chicago, as by the evening the temperature dropped down to freezing. The howling wind gusts of 25 miles (40 km) per hour gave me a cold slap, forcing me cover my other cheek with the jacket hood and rush seeking warmer comfort.

It's not unusual for the weather in middle America to plummet in a few hours, as unlike India, there is no Himalayas in North to protect the cold winds blasting its way from Canada. Himalayas stands tall as a barrier from the marauding Siberian chill, while the runt Rocky Mountains in USA hardly help prevention the cold intrusion from North.

It felt so refreshing to see some snow on the ground - not a whole lot, but the sight of snow after 5 years was deeply exhilarating for some one visiting from the Deep South.

The north-west Chicago suburb is as white as snow, with a few Desis (Indians) and Chinese strewn in. Having stayed in the Dixie Land for a long period of time, it was a very different sight with a difference.

Chicago is located in the midst of the Northern Prairies. One can sees miles of its famous grasslands, undulated mounds of meadows interspersed with a few bald trees, some of them still sporting golden fall leaves, glistening under a setting fall sun, like Donald Trump's hair.

The commercial minded Americans have converted these rolling Meadows into Golf courses, a few I saw criss crossing the Chicago suburbs. The accent of the midwesterners is as flat as the flatlands of the Prairies. It is far cry from the Southern drawl I am more conversant with. Didn't hear anybody talking y'all at all.

The English accent varies a lot between the North and South, with the New Yorkers having their own Yankee accent. Same as in Odisha, we have Katati (coastal) accent, Barhampuri Southern accent and Sambalpuri western accent.

When a Minnesotan says "you betcha", it reminds me of "GAMATA EKKA" (Fun only), in Barhampuri Odia. Same as Mein (in Allahabadi Hindi), Hum (Bihari Hindi) vs Apoon Ka Hindi in Mumbai. Accents do vary, with regional punch in every language across the world. More later...

Arrival at Chicago - 2016

A blistery windy night aptly welcomed us to the Windy city of Chicago. Bursts of fresh air swarmed us as we stepped out of the airport. The balmy weather of 65 degrees close to minight in mid November Chicago, felt really unreal - vindicating global warming is for real.

The holiday season flight was full. The Airlines was offering $500 flight vouchers to be used for future flights, if I rebook on another flight leaving next day. I passed this generous offer.

May be one day will come, a la town buses in Bhubaneswar, people will be allowed to stand in flights. At time of landing, take off and turbulence, one can hang on to the plastic covered metal linked chains, hanging like hanging noose stuck to horizontal metal bars at the top. I am sure folks won't mind, especially during the peak holiday seasons in the short duration flights.

I once sat on a stool during an overnight bus service from Rourkela to Bhubaneswar, as all the seats were occupied. In the middle of journey, a junk movie named PAAP KA ANT (End of evil) was playing on the hazy TV screen, as the bus topsy-turvied its way forward. To my drowsy eyes the name looked Italian - PAAPA KA ANTA (Dad's Waist).

As I rubbed my eyes trying to figure out the movie, the driver suddenly slammed the brake. Every one surged forward in sequence, same way a bunch of bricks standing in a line would fall upon one another, if the chain reaction is triggered by kicking the one at the end.

Thankfully I was in the middle. The guy on the front stool who was gaping at the screen with his mouth wide open, savoring a scene from the cinema, was not so lucky. He bore the brunt of  Newton's Law of Motion (a body continues to be in rest or motion unless an external force is applied), as he was flung foward, his phalanx of front teeth hitting the thick metallic rod in front of him.

We Odias are very peaceful Gandhians, with a high sense of tolerance, with a higher forgiving mindset. Rather than being annoyed, he smiled back, exposing his swollen lips and bloody teeth, continuing watching the movie.

May be a day will come, stools will be placed in the middle for a Boing 757 to accomodate the overbooked passengers. More later...

Trump and I

Trump and I - tempted to compare myself with the President Elect Donald Trump.

I can see certain similarities between Trump's style of speaking and my style of writing - audience of both being the commoners. Trump speaks in short, crispy, impromptu sentences, directly connecting to the audience. I strive to do the same, writing in simple, crispy words, which from a layman's prospective is easy to grasp.

Trump's opponents - noticeably Jeb Bush during the Republican Primaries and Hillary Clinton during the national campaign, spoke using long, drab and often boring monologues, which failed to arouse any interest in the electorates. Both, who wanted to carry the legacies of Bushes and Clintons respectively, were decisively trumped by Trump.

Similary, my writing is an appeal to the general mass, who I know, have neither patience nor appetite to read inordinately long, bland stuff. No one has time or interest to read beyond 5 lines. Your 6th line has to be interesting to glue your reader. Trump speaks something stupid every 6th minute in his speech to rouse controversies. I share with him my share of controversies, punching a satire or two every 6th line, which can be a rabble roser, but rarely hurts me.

When it comes to imagery - we can be brothers at arms. We share our persuation skills. Trump says in his public addresses "Hey. Look at the crowd. There are tens of thousands of them". There might be actually a thousand, but the impression amplifies and sticks in the mind of the targetted audience is, "Wow - how popular is this guy !!!".

Trump says "ISIS douse you in oil, burn you in a cage, they chop your heads", making hand gestures. Don't think ISIS will ever come to the American heartlands of Tulsa, Oklahoma or Green Bay, Wisconsin do the same, but the image of such brutality created by his oratory skills creates a sense of apprehension of Trump being their protector, their Knight in Shining Armor.

Akin to Trump, I concoct many visuals in my writing which connect well to the readers (of course, they are not political types as I don't harbor any such ambitions). Such visuals inside the brain creates a persuasive image, inculcating a lasting impression, more lasting than facts and figures. Images created via Emotions is more influencial than logic - as love (its opposite hatred too) is strongest when its unreasonable. Human heart is known to override our judgemental head.

Of course, the similarities between us ends there. Trump is a billionnaire who lives in plush Manhattan Penthouse and travels in his private jet. I live in a 4 bedroom house in a mid-size town, driving an antique, mid-size Honda, the perfect mid-dle class guy with simple living and hallucination laced high thinking.

Cholesterol and awareness about Healthy heart

I heard the word Cholesterol for the first time in life during my first year in Engineering College Hostel. I used to frequently order double egg Omelette with my meal. One day my friend Prakash Patnaik sitting right across the table told me to be careful as egg has a lot of cholesterol.

"Cholesterol ? What's the hell is that ?" I queried. Prakash went on explaining what it was and how it can clog the arteries.

In my Engineering college I had numerous friends who were Elephants of Knowledge. They were moving encyclopedias in a googleless iFree world. Now-a-days an answer might be a click away on a computer or a touch away on iWHAEVER. But I can proudly proclaim that in our REC (now NIT) hostel we had human computers.

One does not have to look beyond his next table in the dining hall or a few rooms down the hallway to find an answer to any subject under the sun. (There were a few GULIAs too who used to Kill GULLIES or harmless White Lies, but were ignored).

Coming back to cholesterol - those days there was hardly any awareness about it and its relation to heart disease beyond those who studied Biology or Medicine. In mid 80s there was this Gentleman who was then in his early 50s who complained to wife in the middle of the night MO CHHATI MAARUCHI (I am getting pain in my chest). "CHHATI MARUCHI NA TUMA GA**I PADUCHI (Your are getting a heartache, or your a*s is farting a lot)," - dismissed his wife, alluding it to her husband's chronic gas problems. She rolled over to sleep. Moments later when she shook her husband, he was no more.

Odisha those days lacked a decent facility for the treatment of heart related ailments. The best cardiac equipment our hospitals were equipped with were ECGs. Odias had to travel outside, mainly to Vellore for any major heart surgery, if lucky to be identified beforehand.

Things have come a long way. Thankfully, awareness has gone up these days. Even Middle schoolers are well aware of Cholesterol and beyond. Thousands of lives have been saved and many lives prolonged, dissatisfaction with the health care system not withstanding.

There is something about America

Do you remember a popular movie back in the 1990s, "There is something about Mary" ? Looking at numerous posts from back home, mostly from those who often proclaim "Indians don't care about America", vindicates what psychologist often say - "An open critic can be your secret admirer". I don't care, is often the human way of admitting "I do".

We talk or gossip  about celebrities, not commoners. It explains why we rarely discuss about the elections in Nigeria, though it's as foreign a nation as the United States to us. Rarely I have seen any discussion about elections in Britain, Germany, France, Japan or South Korea, all first world democracies. A friend's transliteration of a Tamil proverb - People love to throw stones at a tree filled with fruits rather than a barren one, now makes hell lotta sense.

Probably explains why the combined media coverage of a Putin, Xi Xingping or Cameron on a trip to India make as much of a media coverage (social or otherwise), as a single Obama visit to India.

Define irony. The same America haters have no qualms about guzzling Jack Daniel with Coke, watching the latest Hollywood flick and flocking to the nearest KFC or McDonald, not to mention the craving craze to send their kids abroad for higher studies - while doing America bashing on a social media forums which are after America's gift to the world. One more thing, Thank God, it's Friday - TGI Friday a popular restaurant chain in every major Indian city is an American franchise.

I can go on and on, but its beyond the scope this blog. But enough to make my point well made, I would love suggesting a sequel of the romantic comedy movie "There is something about Mary". It should be aptly named "There is something about America", a comedy about Romance, one sided of course.

Post Election Blue - Elections 2016

2016 US presidential election is now over for good. Lots of my Democrat freinds are having Post election Blues. Daggers are out, Monday morning quarterbacking widely prevelant.

In Oriya we frequently say - EITA HEITHILE SEITA HEITHANTA (if this would have happened, that could have happened). To all my Hillary supporters, what had to happen, has happened. It's time to face the inevitability & move on.

I still remember April 1986 when the Pakistani cricketer Javed Miandad hit a six of the last ball to clinch a match against India. I was shell shocked. Inside my immature teenage mind there was an infinite loop of thoughts, what if the ill fated bowler Chetan Sharma bowled a bouncer, yorker instead of a full toss, until i realised there is no ifs and buts in life, sports and now Politics.

The stigma of that defeat lasted long in the psyche of Cricket India. This election is nothing compared to the 1968 Presidential election, which was preceded by the assassinations of Civil Rights leader Martin Luther King Jr and the leading Democratic candidate Robert F Kennedy moments after he won the California primaries.

That election season saw race riots and violent anti-Vietnam protests in America, still as a nation it didn't run riot or collapsed. It has grown stronger since, no Soviet Union now as a challenging Superpower. Because, the nation's fundamentals and founding pillars are strong, not built as castles in air based on empty rhetorics.

Having said that - Trump's election is not the end of America or world. Such views envisoned by those on the basis of this slugfest election are both preposterous and premature. A bad hangover never lasts forever, it gets over healed by time.

Last day before the final polling day - Election 2016

Only a few hours to go as the curtain falls on a gruelling vetting process of numerous debates, campaigns and voter reach outs - a process commenced 1 1/2 years ago and culminates tomorrow.

If the opinion polls are to be believed, heading on to the final polling day, Hillary Clinton has a slight lead over Trump. She is just a breath away from the arguably highest elected office of the land, a record first for a woman.

But remember - opinion polls are not the actual poll, the real poll matters. The counting of the real poll starts less than 24 hours from now, which can be so near, yet so far.

Let me repeat my often repeated quip from Amitabh's movie HUM (Us) released in 1991. In a scene Anumam Kher who plays a crook cop, delivers a very meaningful monologue - BAGAWAT MEIN TIN KISAM KE ADDMI HOTE HAIN (There are three kinds of people in a mutiny), ATYACHAARI (the tormentor played by Danny), KRANTIKARI (the mutineer, played by Amitabh), AUR UN DONO KA JHAGDE KA FAIDA UTHATE HUE HAMARA JAISE BYAPARI (Taking advantage of their rivalry are our kind of businessmen).

Very aptly described indeed, its the media, the BYAPARI being the real winner of this election cycle. Not to mention Trump, also a PUCCA BYAPARI who knows his business has already made his business. Win or lose - he will be immensely helped by his newly aquired brand status.

As Ronald Reagan famously said the closing statement of his only debate with President Carter in 1980, when you head tomorrow to polling booth as yourself - Are you better off now, than 8 years ago ? If you think yes, your choice is obvious. If you think no, you have your choice too. You are the best judge, so be judicious. The game is still on folks - as it enters the final stage, into the end of the 4th quarter or the final overs. 

Making caricature of our leaders

Come election time, Saturday Nights Live, also known as SNL, a late night program show, comes into prominence. It makes spoofs of the Presidential candidates with lasting impact on the audience and electorates.

The spoof of the all Presidential debates between Trump and Clinton made me laugh until my stomach ached. (It's available on YouTube). Alec Baldwin (the Baldwin brothers are great actors and comedians) did a wonderful caricature, copying Trump's voice, bullying mannerisms and his ridiculing look with a pouty, snorted face. The message was, Trump not only didn't know the answers to policy matters, he didn't understand questions.

Bill Maher, the half Jewish liberal comedian and one of my favorites, once countered Trump's claim that Obama wasn't born in USA by demanding a proof from the orange hair Republican nominee to validate that he wasn't sired by a Orangutan. Trump didn't find this very funny and threatened to sue Bill Maher.

The comedians often make mincemeat of the politicians, the end result can be devastatiIn 1976 on SNL, comedian Chevy Chase made a mockery of Gerald Ford, slipping off stair cases and stage. It made look him like a bumbling buffoon in front of the electorates and certainly contributed to the Republican candidates defeat.

Tina Fey's epic caricature of Sarah Palin in 2008, made her look like dumb (she wasn't far from bring so) and unprepared for Presidency. She made a hilarious clone of Sarah Palin, making satire of the later's lack of foreign policy experience when she spoofed - "I am great at foreign policy as I can see Russia from my home".

It is always easier to make fun or creatate cartoon of extrovert and flamboyant characters. Apart from Trump and Sarah Palin is Bill Clinton. Clinton jokes galore in America, especially at the height of Monica Lewinsky scandal when comedians has a field day.

At the same time, it is difficult to make caricature of those with cool demeanor. Obama is one such celebrity, who is not much mocked at. Eminent Indian cartoonist R K Laxman famously said it was most difficult for him to make a cartoon of Jawaharlal Nehru for the same reason.

Making fun of our political leaders is the hallmark of a healthy democracy. In many cases, the politicians make their audience laugh at their own expense. It make them more respectable and acceptable.

In contrast, if one dares to do mock the leaders of Russia, China or North Korea, Gulag or a gun squad await you. Glad we are living in democracies, where we dare to poke fun and make satire of our leaders.

To err is Huma(n)

For those who came late and those who don't know - Huma Abedin, Hillary's (wo)man Friday and at the center of  email scandal, is of Indian origin. Her father, Zainul Abedin, a graduate of Aligarh Muslim University migrated to the United States, sometime during 1960s. He died in 1993, when now 40 year old Huma was still in her teens.

Huma is known to be extremely close to Hillary Clinton, her indefatigable and inseparable organ. Hillary, who knows her since the later was 19 year old, supposedly said - "If I would ever had another daughter, she would be Huma".

Huma's mother, once told is jest, that she was jealous of Clinton because her daughter spends more time with her with her mom. Perennially seen in company of Hillary, a quick learner of the art of maneuvering in the Washington's milieu, her rise has been nothing spectacular. But her meteoric rise in heaven, where marriages are supposedly made came crashing down to earth.

Her marriage in 2010 to the talented but controversial politician Anthony Weiner turned out to be a fiasco. A Jewish Congressman from New York, Anthony's claim to fame was being caught during his wreckless, irresposible act of sexting with teenagers.

His laptop contained Hillary's emails which were traced by FBI, turned out to be a perennial albatross on Huma's neck. A constant companion to Hillary for close to two decades, she is now staying away from the Democratic nominee, lying low, at least till the campaign ends.

Marriages might be made in heaven, but marital tragedies are made on earth. A plum post which awaited Huma in a Hillary cabinet, now looks like a mirage.  But Huma is after all human, she made an error in judgement marrying a voyeur, caught on cameras. To err is Huma(n) , but forgiving may not necessarily be the policy. 

An Authentic Halloween Story - the Confederate Cellophane lover

This is not one of those traditional ghost stories. I would never have shared this incident, unless it was recorded and reported by the researchers of US Paranormal activities. This one took place in Olustee State Park in Florida.

An Annual Civil War Ball was held in the state park, where a major Civil War battle was fought in the early 1860s, between the Northern Union Army and the Southern Confederates. It attracts Paranormal activity folks who have captured Orbs and Ribbons of light on digital cameras. Unusual Floating orbs have appeared on video recordings in that park.

While enacting mock battle, one enactor recalled getting an eerie feeling, hearing a voice repeating "Have you seen the elephant" - a Civil War euphemism for experiencing combat.

Another enactor strayed deep into the park and saw this guy decked in old "Confederate" garb. This skinny, ragged, tired looking guy was barefoot, sitting next to a tree in a sparsely vegetated area.

This unusual looking man walked to this enactor, addressing him "Howdy" in a strange, croaky voice - Do you have a "chaw", a slang for chewing tobacco. The reenactor pulled a strip of chewing tobacco out of his pocket and handed over to this strange looking person, whom he thought as another fellow enactor.

The guy unwrapped it and popped the tobacco into his mouth, as he held the cellophane up in the air and looked through it. He studied it a bit and asked, "What's this made of ?"

The reenactor replied, "It's cellophane", thinking this stranger is poking fun at him. He again asked, if he can keep the cellophane. The reenactor nodded and continued his trail.

Moments later, when he turned back to wave goodbye to the stranger, the later simply vanished. That area was flat land with sparse shrubs, typical of marshy Florida. The lone tree standing was too short and too thin to block the view. No human could have vanished too fast, too soon.

The reenactor now walked faster, panting and puffing, never bothering to look back. He soon narrated his experience to others. Neither he, nor any one from rest of the enactors saw anyone matching such description.

After reaching home, the reenactor looked up information on cellophane and learned that it wasn't invented until year 1908. The American Civil War took place a good 50 years back. It explained the stranger giving a strange look at the cellophane wrap and kept it as a time warped souvenir.

Ab ke baar Trump Sarkar

Donald Trump spoke a few words in Hindi AB KI BAR, TRUMP SARKAR - meaning, "It's now turn for Trump government". He perhaps speaks better Hindi than our Chief Minister's Odisha speaks Odia.

Indian Americans, the Americans of Indian origin (not to be confused with American Indians or Native - Red Indians who are the original inhabitants of the land) constitute little more than 3 million - nearly 1% of the total population of USA. Though small, they can make a dent in the electorally crucial swing states of Florida, Ohio and Pennsylvania.

Demographically they are 51% Hindu, 18% Christian (many born Hindus are converted influenced by Evangelicals), 14% non-believers (I am veering towards that), 10% Muslims, 5% Sikhs and rest immaterial. So unlike India, where Hindus make 82% of the population, they are just above the halfway mark in US.

Hence, knowing well that 2/3rd of Indians are Democrats or Democratic leaning, and the antagonism of Muslims towards him, Trump is betting on the Hindu audience amongst the Indian Americans. That's the reason he used the occasion of Hindu festival Diwali to target his base amongst Indian Americans.

With time running out and the election tightening over the FBI doing further investigation into Hillary's email, Trump is leaving no stones unturned, as every vote counts - from Indian Americans or otherwise.

Won't be surprised if Hillary Clinton also comes out speaking a word or two in Hindi, though a 2/3rd support is assuring, nothing can ever taken for granted in politics.

Importance of Florida in Election 2016

Exactly one Tuesday from now, just 2 weeks ahead, America is going to decide arguably the most powerful person on earth. DonaldTrump and Hillary Clinton are Campaigning hard in the crucial swing state of Florida, which opened its polling booths for early voting from yesterday.

As voters line up to vote in this warm, Sunshine state - better known for no State Income tax and Tourism, the candidates had several campaign events lined up past few days, including today. Learning from last election of 2012, when Hispanics stood on line for hours mostly voting for Obama, the candidates are leaving no stones unturned to making their supporters turning out to vote.

Why Florida is so crucial ? Because it carries 29 crucial Electoral college votes - next only to California (54), Texas (38), New York (34). With California and New York solidly voting for Hillary and Texas for Trump (though by a lesser margin), Florida is too important a swing state to be ignored.

So stakes are higher for Trump to win Florida - as it is a must win state for him. Without winning Florida, his path to White House is virtually sealed.

North Florida is mostly Republican and South Florida, Democratic as the state's demography is changing fast. It's said the more South you go in Florida, more North it gets, alluding to the baby boomers from North of United States who settle in South Florida post retirement, lured by its warm, salubrious weather. They tend to be mostly Democratic who, along with a sizable number of Hispanics, have changed Florida's political landscape.

The important I-4 corrider, connecting the populous cities of Tampa and Orlando could very well decide the next US President - as this sector is evenly populated with Republicans and Democrats, though of late, it is showing a tilt towards Democrats.

In nutshell - indications are there of this race keeps tightening, the Corrider of I-4 Highway in Florida could very well determine the outcome of this election. Buckle up for a rough ride on the election night.

Birthday of United Nations

Today is the Birthday of United Nations, world's biggest, bloated bureaucracy,  housing a bunch of entitlement seekers, famous for their efficiency and lack of accountability. A spineless organization, it is known more for failures than success on its Balance Sheet ever since its inception in 1945.

A sizable amount of its maintenance is born by the Americans Taxpayers. Now high time it is dissolved, or US kicks them out of its own soil. What a blatant waste of prime real estate properties in New York and Washington DC, which can be used for far better purpose.

The nations in United Nations, in contrary to the name suggests, are hardly United. In spite of tons of money poured into many poor nations (mostly American money), those nations still languish in poverty. Those who have succeeded in moving 10s of millions out of poverty (notably China and India), have done so by helping themselves and with some help from Private charitable agenies, rather than anything remotely from UN.

At least a year ago Saudi Arabia headed the UN council of Human Rights. Amongst its other members is China, another Champion of human rights violation, completing the league of distinguished gentlemen of the so called protectors of Human rights.

The Security Council is used as the personal fiefdom of its veto wielding members, to further their own selfish agenda. It has hardly achieved any world peace and stability, which was supposed to be the primary goal when the organization was formed 70 years ago.

In June, 1981 following the Israeli strike on the Iraqi Nuclear Reactor on the outskirtsof Baghdad, US promptly vetoed any UN resolution against Israel.

I still vividly remember this cartoon by R K Laxman on the front page of Times Of India, where the UN Secretary General says to the recalcitrant, mockingly grimacing Israeli PM - "The more you launch such an attack, you will be condemned more severely".

35 years down the road, not much has changed. Now Philippines threatens to come out if UN, a trend would be set for more nations to come out of this behemoth global Babudom. Hopefully it is the harbinger of the demise of this monolithic structure, the sooner the better.

So, Why stick to an institute which after scores of years of existence, has far more failures than achievements to its credit. In my opinion completely getting rid of it, won't hurt anything. A world without UN will be more or less the same - sans billions of wasted dollars.

How Macaca moment changed the political landscape of Virginia

The state of Virginia, which once was a reliably Republican citadel, has now turned Blue. For those uninitiated about American politics - Red is the color of Republicans and Blue the color of Democrats.

Arguably the first breach in this Republican fort, just south of US Capital Washington DC came in the Senate election of 2008 - the credit for which goes to a young Indian American named S R Sidharth.

20 year old Sidharth was filming a campaign by the 2 time sitting Republican Senator George Allen, who was running for his 3rd term. When he saw Sidharth, the senator exclaimed - "Let's give a welcome to the Macaca here. Welcome to America and the real world of Virginia".

It was clearly a racist comment and was exploited to the hilt by his Democrat opponent. In spite of the prompt apology from George Allen, the poll numbers of the otherwise comfortably leading Republican candidate started to sink, enough for give his Democrat opponent a narrow victory on the election day.

No question Allen's " Macaca moment" led to his downfall, from which he could never recover. Once considered a prospective Presidential candidate, he could never get elected, his racist remark being the last nail on his political Coffin.

No doubt Sidharth was the harbinger of the beginning of the end of Republican dominance of the state of Virginia. Two years later, Barack Obama carried the state - by a Democratic Presidential candidate after 44 years, first time since 1964.

Obama again carried Virginia again in 2012. Now both the Senators, the Governor being Democrats and Hillary leading Trump by double digits, the transformation of the state from a solid Red to a Blue state is complete.

The main reason behind this change - the demography of Virginia is getting more and more the reliably Democrats, as the College educated, immigrants are flooding the northern part of the state of  DC suburbs (same case in Research Triangle area of Raleigh, North Carolina has made it a swing state).

Yet, S R Sidharth will go down in history as the pioneer who opened up the floodgates of Republican levee, letting the Democrats to barge in, by handing George Allen his "Macaca moment" and changing the electoral map of Virginia and America.

Trump's low support amongst women - Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned

Trump is either leading or is pretty competitive with Hillary among most segments of the electorates, except WOMEN where he is now trailing his opponent by 20 points. If only Trump can reduce this gap by half, he will give Hillary fun for money. But it's not likely, as time is the luxury he doesn't have.

It's not unusual in America for husband to vote Republican, while wife votes Democrat. Fair and balanced. Not so in our house. I voted twice for Obama (he didn't win Georgia), whereas Tanujaa being apathetic to politics didn't even bother to vote.

My mother, least inclined towards politics, religiously accompanied my father to the nearest voting booth of BJB College, Bhubaneswar. She would cast her vote in favor of the person my father nods at, except one occasion when she violated the norm.

In the Parliament election held in the year 1984 on the aftermath of Indira Gandhi's assassination, she voted for the Congress Party nominee against my father's instruction to vote for the eventually losing candidate from CPM, Shivaji Patnaik.

My dad voted with his head, while mom voted with her heart - her change of heart was due to the sympathy generated from watching the funeral of a slain woman PM and undisputed leader of India at that time, vividly telecast TV.

I am sure women played a signified role in giving a massive, historic mandate to Congress in that election. Even the Left bastion of Bengal suffered a jolt, as Jyoti Basu opined - Indira dead is powerful than Indira alive.

They then voted Indira Gandhi out of sympathy, they will vote against Trump out of scorn. Either way - the decisive factor are the women, who form the single largest minority. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.