Current crisis in Pakistan

 I occasionally watch Pakistani channels on the YouTube, curious about what's going on on the other side of our fence, especially in context of the current instability in a country which was part of us only 75 years ago, with which we share a lot in culture, traditions and languages but a turbulent relationship. I take a peek at their milieu, especially at the pretty girls who come to the discussions held on myriad panels they have on TV with a sizable number of women participants. 

It did not go unnoticed to me how charming and pretty the Pakistani girls were. Going by the typical male psych when we men look at a group of girls, our eyes tend to scan for a face which is pretty Just the opposite happens when I look at the Pakistani girls clustered around. My eyes were scouring all these pretty faces to find at least one face which can stand out NOT beautiful. But my hope was soon belied as I didn't encounter any. Damn, every Pakistani girl was pretty - tall, svelte, chisel faced, fair skinned and endowed with elegance par excellence. 

Sorry, ladies. Our Pakistani counterparts beat us by miles. You may blame it on proverbial Odia saying - "GAAN KANIA SINGHANI NAAKI" or "Country girl, phlegm filled nose". Or its Hindi version "GHAR KI MURGI DAL BARABAR" or "chicken cooked at home tastes like boiled lentil". Both mean the same, grass looks greener on the other side of the fence. But the beauty of these Pakistani girls need to be seen in your own eyes rather than visualize in order to vindicate. 

Many girls arrive at the shows veiled in black color Abaya covered from tip to toe. In one such popular show a girl got excited on seeing a performance, started cheering and clapping, breaking into a rapturous delight and suddenly lifted her veil. And voila, she reminded me of this stanza from a Kishore Kumar's song, 

WOH ACHANAK Aa GAYEE

YOON NAZAR KE SAMNE,

JAISE NIKAL AYEE

GHATA SE CHAAND... 

transliterated from Hindustani (mix of Hindi and Urdu). 

"She suddenly arrives

In front of my eyes;

Bolstering my mood

As if moon ventured out of cloud". 

On social matters I was surprised by the closeness they bear with us. They have dowry problem like we have in India, although Islam prohibits dowry (who doesn't want free money). Suppression of women is worse than India. Yet obsession with India is very much in the air, especially about Bollywood, Cricket and Modi - not necessarily in that order. 

But on top their discussion chart is politics (the ex cricket player and playboy Imran Khan is now a player in politics currently surrounded by controversies), followed by talk about their fledgling economy already lying in the ruins. Like us many conspiracy theories going around there, a few blaming Modi behind there current crisis (this is something peddled by their bete noire Modi supporters in India that PM of India by some magic stroke has destroyed Pakistan's economy). A panelist from Lahore said that the flow of American money trickled down to a halt ever since the Yankees left Afghanistan, Pakistan's utility being devalued resulting in the stoppage of inflow of free dollars. I see some logic in this. 

On one panel a discussion was going on about the precarious stage of their economy. All grudgingly agreed that India has gone years ahead, its economy juggernauting towards $3 trillion and counting. The panelist asked - "We hear that India is ready to help us in this economic crisis we are facing. What you all think". "We will rather eat grass, die of starvation. But we will never ever beg from them". Hatred and fascination towards India exist together akin to two sides of a coin. 

I am no fan of Pakistan. But those who glee at their current discomfiture should note that it is in our best interest not to want an unstable Pakistan which could be followed by these utter nightmarish scenarioes happening right next door. 

1. A chaotic Pakistan may lead to a bad refusee scenario which could get worse, putting pressure on our fragile Radcliffe line. 

2. When a country is in turmoil it can give rise to fanatic leaders like Hitler in post World War I Germany. We don't want a Mullah in the possession of nuclear bomb sitting next door. It could be an unpredictable situation of "MANKADA HATHA RE SALA GRAMA" which literally means "Lord's statue in the hands of monkey", or giving a pivotal role to an ignoramus can backfire big time. We don't want that to happen.

The saga of my Paita

 I as a Brahmin is supposed to religiously wear my PAITA or what we call JANIYU in Hindi (the sacred thread worn by Brahmins) across on my shoulder. But it lies well tucked inside my luggage which I normally carry when I travel to my home back home in India. No sooner I reach home than I make it a point to take it out from my bag and wear the six stringed thread across my left shoulder extending to my waist. 

But last time when I took my PAITA out from my bag it looked old, crumbled. Its cotton strings in an haphazard shape looked like the flyovers in Atlanta downtown seen from top of an Airplane, like a maze of unknotted hair strewn all over criss crossing each other. Unknotting it was a nightmare. So I gave up. 

It didn't take very long for my parents to notice that something conspicuously missing on my shoulder - it was my PAITA. They were aghast and bit dissapointed about me forgetting my roots and rituals by stopping wearing the sacred thread, a Brahmin identity they hold close to heart. I explained to them there was no point in hanging on to my PAITA hanging from my shoulders, simply because it has already gone MAARA (lost its sanctity) a long time ago. 

When I visit the restaurant "Jersey and Mike" and order my Chicken Philly sandwich the Chef cooks my chicken barely six inches away where he sautes ground beef. He uses the spatula to alternate cooking between chicken and beef. Eating chicken from there is similar to eating potato from meat curry and saying I am vegetarian. So beef of the story is my PAITA has lost its purity long time ago. Also I reminded them of the Odia proverb - "CHINHA BRAHMANA RA PAITA DARKAR NAHI (A known Brahmin doesn't need to wear a sacred thread). Those who need to know are aware that I am a Brahmin and I don't need to advertise it. My parents weren't convinced with my logic and hardly impressed. 

Years ago a friend from India arrived at the JFK Airport, New York on a short business trip. Close to the Boston marathon bombing, security at the Airport was pretty tight. He was connecting to another city. At the security gate some one figured out that he was wearing a PAITA and uttered in a voice audible enough for the passengers crowded nearby to overhear - "Hey this guy is wearing a thread", yelled the security personnel", then  told my friend to take it out and pass it to him. A bunch of his colleagues clustered around it and gave a curious look to the PAITA and the DEURIA (Amulet) tied to it as if they were in possession of paraphernalia of someone from a distance galaxy. 

In certain movies we have seen when an alien object is thrown at a group of monkeys, they pass it on like a relay baton, giving perplexed looks at each other, not sure what to do. Our  security folks acted accordingly, passing the PAITA to one another, holding it high, rolling the amulet tied to the PAITA with their fingertips and giving puzzled looks at it from both ends. After done with their eye scan they let the PAITA get a separate X-ray scan, along with his belt, wallet etc.   

Finally they concluded that "this guy wearing a thread" not a security threat and let him in. I told my friend that the Security officer might have eaten a Roast Beef sandwich for lunch. Far from washing hands post lunch, the best possible scenario could be wiping hands with a piece of paper. He or she has touched your sacred PAITA using the same hand and inadvertently you have committed a sin. So as soon as you get back home, take a shower in GANGA JAL (water from River Ganga which reputedly washes off the sins committed) and shoulder a new PAITA. A la the Narsena Naidoo character of JATIRA DHAKKA (The jolt from Caste) in our Odia Literature textbook from middle school, you have lost your caste.  

Before being ostracized, "JA PURI JA. GOBAR PANI PEE, TEBE JAI JATI PHERI PAIBU" - Go to Puri (sacred temple city of Hindus). Drink Cow dung laced water, then only you can get your caste back. 

He laughed. Thankfully he shared my last name "Dash" not Sahrukh's - the later has gone through enhanced security scrutiny thrice, at least one of which is rumored to be a cavity search - finger inserted inside his lower orifice for additional search. Imagine Sah Rukh Khan coming out of security check stuttering - M..M...MUJHE MAAR DIYA RE (I have been screwed) a la "KI..KI..KIRAN" which propelled him into limelight. 

Another Odia friend, a brilliant guy, B.Tech. in Computer Science from IIT Kanpur and a devote Brahmin used to seat a few rows from me at my work. An elephant of knowledge, he always has a techno-logical way of explaining things.  

Inside the restroom (toilet) as a sacred Brahmin should do, he would religiously make a knot of his PAITA around his ears and never talk to the person standing next to him. If someone spoke to him, he would utter a muffled "Umm, Umm". The PAITA has to be wrapped around the left ear once for pee and twice for poo, each with its own set of logic to be reasoned with - he would explain to the ever curious inquisitor after hand washing. 

It aroused the curiosity of many. When queried he starts explaining to them the Vedic reason of doing so. The conversation invariably continued from washing hands, drying it and proceeding till the Restroom door until one opens the door for the other.

I would wash off my hands from such conversation. Whether the listeners grasped the explanations of my IITian friend is still a mystery. No doubt the saga of PAITA has  travelled far and wide.

Birthday 2023

Thanks everyone for your wonderful birthday wishes. Completely flabbergasted, floored and flattered by the number of wishes approaching 500 on Facebook and still counting. Also pleasantly overwhelmed by the overwhelming number of wishes on Whatsapp. To be honest, I enjoyed my rock star celebrity moment however short lived it may be. Thanks for those being so creative to create a story for me on Facebook on the occasion of my birthday. I can only write crap, can't be creative like you to create a story.

My finger almost ached while responding to all your wishes, yet I never got tired of it. In case I inadvertently failed to do so - once again a big THANK YOU to all of you for your lovely wishes. At peak in one particular time frame, Birthday wishes popped up every other minute on my timeline. No sooner I thanked one, than another Birthday wish was on pipeline. A "Like" option makes it a whole lot easier to respond. A like👍 on Facebook represents a lot of feelings - I really LIKE the wish, an acknowledgement that I read your wish or simply a thank you note - thanks to the smart and innovative Facebook Engineers who created the "like" button.

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

On a lighter note Geminians tend to be popular among opposite sex, the famous Geminian examples are John F Kennedy, Marilyn Monroe, Angelina Jolie vindicate this fact. Not necessarily all Geminians are Casanova, but many I know having this star sign end up in love marriages (a term used in India for those marrying after falling in love or in self negotiated marriages).

Years ago when I joined Facebook as a tyro, a relatively late entrant to Mark Zuckerberg's wild Jurassic Park. Yet in wildest of my dreams I never thought of seeing this day. (A la Spielberg's Jurassic park, though aware of the monstrous Dinosours, everybody visits and revisits Facebook). I got to admit, ever since I have been on Facebook, I have been bitten by this Birthday bug and the numerous wishes always flatter me in epidemic proportion. 

Prior to the age of social media, wishes used to come only from a few close friends and family members via phone or Birthday cards. Now with Facebook reminder, floodgate of wishes has opened, inching towards 600 count as I write this blog and belated wishes pour in. After all, expectations makes us to expect more, damn my human nature.

One more birthday, one more year tagged to my life. Call it a mid life crisis or mid life blues, it is a stark reminder that body and mind, if not the spirit, goes downhill from here, tasks become uphill and years are numbered before I go over the hill. This birthday is just another day, a stark reminder and a reality check. Myriad wishes on phones, e-mails and social media has left me with a bloated sense of self glorification. In reality it barely changes anything, life just trudges ahead.

During my childhood, on our birthdays my mom would pray and cook KHEER (a sweet dish) for us. An additional luxury could be a special dish from her kitchen. Those days birthdays were tame affairs sans balloons, cake cuttings or any kind of fanfare. It's still the same for me.

We grew up in a collective society where our identity is more qualified by lineage, village, caste, community and so on (many South Indians and Punjabis have their village names tagged to their name. For example - for P. Ravi Kumar, P could be the first initial of the man's native village. For a Sikh named Jagjit Singh TALWANDI, the last part is the name of his PIND, or village). 

I or Me as an individual always came last after the society, village, city or district. Unlike the current generation, it was the norm for most parents of our time to have more than two kids. On top of that many lived in joint families who shared the same roof and celebrated thirteen festivals in twelve months. Birthdays of an individual rarely made into the priority list, always put in the back burner. 

But things in India are changing fast with rapid urbanization. The bonding built as a result of long term fusion of Nuclear families is fast dissipating by fission. DITK (Double Income Two Kids) is the new normal, prominently proclaimed by the rise in birthday celebrations as the harbinger of neo individualism. While I hardly celebrate my birthday, my son plans ahead for months to celebrate his. It is quite understandable. For him growing up in America where individualism rules the roost, his birthday is a matter of celebration. 

No wonder in US they make a big deal about Birthdays. Years back one fine morning no sooner I entered my work place, than I found it nicely decorated with balloons proclaiming "HAPPY 40th BIRTHDAY". Half dozen teammates barged in, singing an impromptu Happy B'day song. A cake was cut. I had my few minutes of fame. They gave me a funny card signed with something like "Why Men Turn Naughty After Forty" printed on it. (Americans make a lot of fuss about celebrating occasions, liberally punching them with dosages of humor. We in India are fast catching up).

I forced myself a smile by fully exposing my phalanx of my 32 teeth and took a snap with them. Yet it was a stark reminder that being 40 in Chemistry lingo I have already reached the half life period, a la radioactive elements. In ancient India at this age people use to take VANAPRASTA (preparation towards retirement). In modern age life begins after middle age. Thanks again for your birthday wishes.

The Graduation party

 This evening I was at a graduation party. The crowd consisted mostly of Gujaratis and we were the only Odias present at the occasion. My son got busy with his friends and my wife found her companions. I was quietly sipping a large Mango Mohito cocktail at a corner by myself as company. 

Sensing my loneliness a guy approached me, sitting next to me. After our exchange of introductions Gujarati man asked me which part of India I am from. I said - "I am an Odia from Odisha". He appeared confused. I continued - "Have you heard of Jagannath temple in Puri. I am originally from that place", hoping it could ring a bell. 

"Oh, Jagannath Jee Dham ?" - He explained and went on "We have His Rath Yatra in Ahmedabad every year." "Of course, you do. But Puri Jagannath Rath Yatra is very special. About a million congregate on the world famous occasion. Puri is in Odisha." was my response. He said - "I thought Puri is located in Bengal". 

The ignorance about Odisha and Odias isn't new to me. In one of my trips to India inside my Paris to Delhi flight I was sitted next to a Punjabi lady who was traveling with her little child. During our tete-a-tete she mentioned that she was from Boston and glad that her long journey ends at Delhi. I said - "I am not so fortunate. It will be at least a 7 hour arduous wait in the middle of night at the Delhi Airport before I catch the morning flight to Bhubaneswar". Now I could see surprise in her eyes - "Bhubaneswar ? Where is it ?" I replied - "It's the capital of the state of Odisha". "I am sorry, I have no idea where is Odisha", she said. "Well, do you know Jagannath Puri ? " I mentioned this thinking the better known Lord Jagannath temple of Puri will at least ring a bell.  

The Punjabi lady's eyes sparkled a bit as she suddenly came with an answer - "I have a relative Jagannath Puri who lives in Greater Kailash, Delhi". I got my answer. 

It was getting late in the evening at the party as constant drizzle forces us to get inside the house. I had already imbibed couple of large glasses of Mango flavored Mohito cocktails. My bladder was full. I went inside looking for restroom and gladly found it. It took me back on a time machine when years ago I wasn't so lucky  in one such party where my bladder was about to overflow and I desperately needed to open my valve. The sole unisex rest room was occupied, testing my patience. 

It was already dark. Looking around and making sure no one was noticing, I ventured to a corner of the fence to relieve myself. Whistling a song, letting out a jet stream and as a fitting finale I was about to shrug the residue off off - a rare pleasure to urinate under  "MUKTA AKASHA" (open sky) in America. I was glad thinking that no one was noticing my sneaky escapade. 

So I thought ! All of a sudden I heard a growing sound of a big, burly canine across neighbor's fence. It was followed by loud barking, only the Deewar (wall) of the fence separating us. Not impressed with me encroaching its neighborhood territory, the doggie was standing in two legs on the opposite site of the fence, snarling, baring its fangs just inches away from me peeing and him peeing through the the narrow gap. The  fence saved my day. Otherwise a scene of the doggie pulling me, catching me pants down and I screaming at my top of my voice trying to extricate myself from the mess would have been enacted. If someone recorded the act, the video would have got multi million hits on the YouTube, making me an overnight celebrity. It could have made headlines in the local Newspaper "Cocktail led to Cock  snatched away by a dog". I wasn't so lucky.

Sabitri Brata

 Today (in India) and tomorrow (in USA) is the festival of SABITRI which is exclusive to Odisha. It is widely celebrated on the New Moon day of the Lunar month of JYESHTA, which per Gregorian calendar comes anywhere between mid May to mid June every year (it is to be noted that the Hindu festivals are celebrated per Lunar Calendar). On this day the married women pray for the long life and well being of their husbands. You can call Sabitri an Odia version of "Husband's day" though no such day exists in the  Western world, the closest would be Valentine's day.

In our PURANAs (ancient religious texts), it is mentioned that a young man named  SATYABAN died a sudden, unnatural death. His wife SABITRI who was a SATI (the pious and chaste one), ardently  prayed Lord YAMA (God of death) to restore her husband's life. Gratified by her devotion and penance, Lord YAMA duly obliged. Her husband woke up to life as if he just woke up from sleep.

Following this mythology our ladies do UPABAASA (fasting) on this auspicious day eating frugally; surviving mostly on fruits and yogurt. Parents send SABITRI BHARA (the gift bucket for Sabitri) to their married daughters, which apart from SINDOOR (vermillion) and Bangles symbolizing long marital life also contains a wide array of fruits, including but not limited to locally grown tropical fruits like Mango, Banana, Jackfruit, Lichi, Guava, Date, Palm and Pinapple. Now a days non native fruits, a la Apples, Oranges and Grapes have added taste and veriety to the traditional ones.

The presence of a SABITRI BHARA inside house can be identified by the  conspicuously strong scent of ripened Jackfruits, which are in season at this time of the year and can be smelt miles away. The jungles of Odisha are filled with Jackfruit trees and it is not unusual for this large size fruits cluster around the bottom of the tree, protruding from tree trunh like the sagging fat of a Sumo wrestler. Bears and Jackles who get attracted by their smell love to feast on them.

The downside of this festival is the prices of fruits and SAREEs (traditional attire of Indian women) skyrocket days before the festival, both due to their demand and hoarding by nefarious  merchants. Glad I don't face same situation here in USA as the prices of fruits are no different from other years. Last few years there was low key celebration of Sabitri due the nationwide lockdown imposed as a preventive measure against the ongoing pandemic. 

This year, this day falls on a weekend and when my Sabitri is too tired to cook dinner for me, the SATYABAN doesn't shy away from SHURAPAAN (help myself with few sundowner) and order take out of some exotic dish to end the auspicious day. Happy "Sabitri Brata" to all ladies.

Happy Mother's day

 Few years back around this time of the year when I spoke to my mother in India, I told her that the recent heavy rains had filled the creek behind my house. I saw a lot of frogs in my backyard and  occasionally few snakes to complete the food chain. As usual in a concerned voice she advised me to be careful and pray Lord Siva to keep the slithery beast away.

Teasing her mildly (as we often take this liberty with our mothers, though we rarely take the same with our fathers) I said - "Mummy, we all know Lord Siva has a stranglehold over Cobra, not sure if he has the same control over the snakes of America. Sanskrit SLOKAs (hymn) won't work here. Southern American accent filled prayers and sermons from the local Methodist church might help in keeping the snake away."

As usual she interrupted to chastise me, "Stop teasing and take my advise seriously. I will pray for you to Lord Siva to keep you safe from those PODA MUHA (Burnt Face) "Rattle SAAPA (snake)". The depth of her love to me is unfathomable.

Whenever I go home, she puts an Igloo shaped mound of rice on my lunch plate, telling - "TU PETA PURA KARI KHAUNU, JHADI GALUNI (you are not eating stomach full and losing weight), though there was hardly any visible sign of my weight loss. For her, this hemispherical shaped lump of rice on plate should be high, high enough for its tip to touch the legs of a cat trying to jump over it. That's her unit of measurement of quantity of food for keeping her son's stomach fulfilled.

When I insist on reducing the amount of rice, suggesting that intake of extra carbohydrate would add unwanted extra amount of flab to my waist, my mother vehemently disputes it - "TORA SWASTYA TIKE HEICHI, TATE MOTA KIE KAHUCHI ?" "You are little healthy, how dare someone calls you fat" ? Like all mothers from our generation, gaining weight by their son is a matter of pride. 

A chubby chap is known as "KHAIBA PIBA GHARA PILA" (in Odia) or KHANE PINE KA GHAR KA LADKA (in Hindi) - meaning a boy from a well to do family who liberally spends on food. (In India a SWYASTAWALA or healthy son earns accolades for the daughter-in-law for feeding the son well. On the other hand a slim husband can earn the wrath of the mother-in-law for not feeding her son enough).

She still advises me - "BARSA RE ODA HABUNI, THANDA DHARIBA" - Don't get drenched in the rain, lest you catch a cold. If she finds out that I have a fever, she advises me to eat Apples and LUNI BISCUIT (Saltine crackers, similar to the RITZ crackers, popularly consumed during fever during my childhood as it titillates the numbed taste buds) and eat PAUNRUTI (sliced bread) dipped in warm milk. She still treats me like a 10 year old. Though I am way past that and in the middle of middle age, her love is unwavering and eternal. No matter how far I am from her, her unadulterated love and concern for me never ever ebbs. I have complete faith on her devotion. Now that I have outsourced my well being to her I can roam freely in my backyard and get on with my life. 

Motherly instinct isn't just limited to humans. It extends to the animal world too. Not just cats, cows, tigers and lions - the snakes too are very protective of their little ones. Other day on Discovery Channel I was watching a female King Cobra hatching her eggs she just laid. She could sense intrusion from the anchor and the camera person. Protective and insecure the 15 feet long Queen Cobra raised her hood to a height of 5 feet, hissing furiously. The anchor was cautious - "We aren't carrying any anti-venom. Need to be very careful here. This protective mother is pissed off with us uninvited guests trying to get closer to her eggs she is succintly protecting. One bite from this angry mom Queen Cobra will inject a gargantuan amount of neurotoxin into the bloodstream, potent enough kill 20 of us in few minutes. We stand no chance". All mothers are same, protective and their children's well being being their topmost priority. HAPPY MOTHERS DAY to all. 

BJP's loss in 2014 Assembly elections in Karnataka

 Anupam Kher playing the role of Dr. Dang from the movie KARMA in late 1980s after receiving a tight slap from actor Dilip Kumar - "ISS THAPPAD KI GUNJ SUNI TUMNE" (Did you hear the reverberation from this slap) ? I am now reminded of it post the tight slap received by BJP after the party's comprehensive defeat in Karnataka Assembly elections. If I am allowed to extrapolate the signals coming from the voters of the state as they punched the voting machines, it's time for BJP, India's right wing Nationalist party to smell the coffee and wake up.

The electorate of this state in south India are one of the smartest lot. For last 35 years they have been making their government accountable, changing them as and when needed - so that no political party can take them for granted. As crop rotation is known for enhancing the productivity of the soil, changing things and positions brings spice out of life, similarly government rotations and changing power is needed for checks and balances we need in a democracy, as well as to curb the corruption and inefficiency.

The best example - In December 1984 Lok Sabha elections Congress won 24 out of 28 seats. Yet barely couple of months later in the state Assembly elections in March 1985, Karnataka voted decisively for R K Hegde, bringing Janata Party to power in the state. The other states who went to poll voted for Congress as usual replicating the just concluded Lok Sabha polls. However Karnataka decided otherwise going against the tide. They have done this time and again - vote one party for center, for another party in the state. 

Does it mean that it is beginning of the end of Modi magic ? Not so fast. Parliament elections at the center is one year away. A week is a long time in politics, a year is eons. Modi is still the undisputed leader at the center, his closest rival Rahul Gandhi isn't even close to him. The influence of other rival  leaders are at best territorial in nature. BJP has a presence at national level (except most of South of the Vindhyas) and being in power  has money & the powerful machinery at its disposal. It can certainly win at the center, though with a reduced margin due to the anti incumbency factor.

Also BJP's supporters can take solace in that it is just an isolated Assembly election. The result is a judgment on the performance of the local government rather than a verdict on Modi led government at the center. They are true to certain extent. As I mentioned above people often tend to vote differently in the local Assembly and national parliamentary elections. 

Examples galore. In late 2018 BJP lost in the Assembly elections in Madhya Pradesh, Chattishgarh and Rajasthan. But less than 6 months later it swept all these 3 states in the Lok Sabha elections giving the Modi led BJP a comprehensive victory. In the same election in Odisha where both Assembly and Parliament elections took place simultaneously the local party BJD swept the Assembly polls but BJP managed to win a respectable 9 number of Parliament seats from Odisha out of 21. The best example is Bhubaneswar - its Lok Sabha seat went to BJP while all the 7 Assembly segments under Bhubaneswar went to BJP. It was clear that the Odia voters did smart dual voting - voted for Naveen Patnaik for the state and Modi at the center on the same day on same ballot.

Hope BJP learns a lesson from this defeat and changes its game plans and strategy accordingly. They need to shed their arrogance and focus on governance. The loss of BJP in Karnataka was due to lack of governance and rampant corruption in the state under the BJP administration. The party didn't have a whole lot to write about. People are also getting tired of its divisive politics. But will BJP and Modi Bhakts ever learn a lesson ? Your guess is as good as mine.

India's finest hour - Pokhran Nuclear test

Stark reminder this day 25 years ago when I was single, unmarried and new to the United States. Driving alone on a cool, Spring morning from Upstate New York to Pittsburgh, I stopped to grab a Starbucks Expresso off the Interstate 81 when I saw the conspicuous headline in Tall and Bold alphabets on the front page of the  "USA TODAY" newspaper - INDIA TESTS NUCLEAR WEAPON.

The News caught me by surprise, as the night before I went to sleep I scanned newspaper headlines from India for news from back home on my desktop (it was an era sans Smart phones and tablets, mobile Internet was strictly fantasy). There was no inkling of any such activity on world media.

I immediately pulled 50 cents out of my pocket and pulled out the newspaper from a vending machine, going through it at a breathtaking speed. It was (and mostly even today), a rare mention about India on the front page of an American Newspaper.

India truly caught the whole world napping. Not only our pugnacious, obnoxious neighbors Pakistan and China had any clue, the United States, with all its technical prowess failed to see it coming. Even CIA, which then had more budget than India's GDP at that time came to know about it after the official announcement came from India. The American Press poked fun at CIA - mocking its acronym as standing for Cannot Identify Anything.

The Pokhran Nuclear test of 1998 was one of our major milestones in security. India, often seen as nincompoomp by outside world, proved that it can prove the proven powers wrong by flexing its muscles and taking them everyone by surprise.

As usual Pakistan went berserk with the news, but China whined a lot, being well aware that it is more directed towards it as a deterrent, because of its conventional superiority over India. It yet vindicated what George Fernandez, the then defence minister said about the middle kingdom - "China is our enemy number 1". It still stands true, more than Pakistan, China is going to be a long term threat to India, a perennial thorn to its flesh. US led  sanctions followed, which had minimal effects on India.

Nevertheless, on its 25th Anniversary Hats off to the Vajpayee's govt and the Scientists who were seen hats on, guiding and goofing the ever prying eyes of US satellites for the stupendous success and the day being forever etched in our memory for lifetime.

The signs from fate

 During the medieval times, the King Harihar who along with brother Bukka in South - Central India formed the Sangama Dynasty was passing through a remote, wooded area when he saw a deer being chased by a tiger. Suddenly the deer took an "u turn" and started chasing the tiger. The tiger fled away. The King found this sight quite astounding. Fascinated by this unusual incident he thought there was something special about the place. So he decided to build a fort at that exact location. Subsequently the King and his descendants ruled from that fort for a long period of time. 

You might have heard about Rana Sanga, the famous Rajput ruler of Mewar (now part of the modern day Rajasthan) from the early 16th century. His early days were turbulent. He was one of the princes of Mewar whose two elder brothers belittled and bullied him, attacking and banishing him from the palace for good. Rootless, Rana Sanga wandered around the Kingdom. 

One summer afternoon Rana Sanga was taking siesta under a tree. Suddenly some locals grazing cows nearby noticed a huge King Cobra wavering its hood over the head the sleeping prince. The giant reptile hovered on his head for a while acting like a canopy giving protection to his head before slithering away. The cowherds who saw this came running to wake up Rana Sanga and narrated him what just happened. 

They reminded him that such incidents are very rare and considered as an auspicious "RAJA YOYA", a sign from God prophesying him to become a King in the future. A blury eyed Rana Sanga who yawned out of his nap dismissed such prediction as day dreaming of a bunch of cowherds as he knew non of his two powerful elder brothers would ever allow him to ascend the Mewar throne. 

Soon after this incident one of his brothers died in a freak accident when lightning struck him while he was taking shelter under a tree during a thunderstorm on his way back to the palace after a hunting expedition. His other brother Prithviraj, the flamboyant heir apparent to the Mewar throne was on a roll along with his fighter Rajput wife Tarabai, who happened to be an excellent archer and sword fighter. 

The couple defeated many vassals and brought them under the jurisdiction of Mewar. They looked unstoppable until tragedy struck at the most inopportune moment. Prithviraj was poisoned by his own brother-in-law. (Ego and turf wars wasn't just limited to Afghans and Mughals, was rampant amongst Rajputs and Marathas too). His wife Tarabai became a "SATI" (woman of chastious), killing herself by jumping into her husband's funeral pyre. 

With his elder brothers dead, now the road was clear for Rana Sanga. As fate had it, the old King devastated by back to back untimely loss of his two sons fetched his youngest son Rana Sanga out of wilderness to ascend the throne of Mewar. Look at the quirk of fate. If the snake bit Rana Sanga on that afternoon, the man had no chance of survival as the bite from King Cobra emits a gargantuan amount of venom, potent enough to kill 20 adult humans or a full growth elephant. But he was destined to live another day to occupy Mewar's throne and win several battles in his life until he was stopped by Babar at the famous battle of Khanwa. 

Around the same time Odisha had a powerful king named Kapilendra Deba. Per legend, the King before him had no progeny to carry on his legacy. So, per tradition of those days an Elephant was given a golden pot filled with water and allowed to wander around with the courtiers following it. The person on whose head the elephant pours water from that golden pot was destined to be the King of the state and carry the baton from the current occupier of throne. 

A local cowherd boy named Kapila along with his friend Kashia was standing by, curious at the giant pachyderm walking nonchalantly holding the golden pitcher by its trunk. Suddenly the elephant stopped next to Kapila and poured the entire pitcher of water on his head stunningly his friend Kashia and rest  onlookers. Kapila went on the become Sri Sri Kapilendra Deb, whose Kingdom extended to Ganga in the north to Godavari in the South.

Legend had it, he didn't forget to make his childhood buddy Kashia as his minister. 

A very popular Hindi Bhajan sung by Lata Mangeshkar and Anuradha Podwal goes as follows : 

MANO TO MEIN GANGA MAA HOON,

NA MANO TO BEHTA PAANI.

Transliterated... 

"If you believe then I am Mother river Ganga,

If you don't, I am just flowing water". 

Believe or not, all these above mentionrd events from the annals of history could be apocryphal or simply urban legends, but are fascinating indeed. Incidents like deer chasing a tiger, King Cobra covering head of a person's with its hood, elephant pouring water from the golden pitcher on the of the prospective emperor aren't the causes by themselves but are unusual events which are signs of monumental changes. We have this Odia proverb - "KAPALA LIKHANA, KE KARIBA ANA", which simply means "destiny is unstoppable". What all these incidents indicated were signs of the things to come, but they came nevertheless.

Letter writing is history

 The other day I discovered that my handwriting has gone from bad to worse. My writing these days is mostly limited to taking notes at face to face meetings at work. As more and more meetings take place online, I take notes on my desk top computer on Notepad. Only solace, compared to the hand writings of many here, including my son's, mine is an exquisite art.

Handwriting also varies with age, the older persons have better handwriting, explained by the fact that a generation ago people use to write a lot using a pen or pencil. Keyboards used to be associated only with the typewriters. The persons using them during my growing up days were often ridiculed as "mere typists" in a derogatory sense. A writer is a mere typist these days, typing at tremendous speed on our gadgets while our handwriting suffers. It won't be long a piece of good handwriting will find a place in museums like dinosaur fossils.

The last time I remember writing a letter was years ago in 1997 when I wrote a letter my grandmother from USA. She was staying in our village at that time, the only mode of communication to her. Soon e-mails and texting took over. But they are no match to the euphoria and nostalgia associated with a letter written by hand which brings the flavor of the person who has written it.

A letter of appreciation or a love letter written by hand has a personal touch and fragrance, a handwritten card will never be replicated on a text or email message. As mentioned in an epic Kishore Kumar song "KHUSBOO A NAHI SAKTI KABHI KAGAZ KE PHOOLON SE" (Fragrance can never come from paper flowers), a handwritten note has a soul associated with it, when compared to an inanimate text or email. The fun of writing on a paper Diary can ever be replaced by blog writing on a cellphone.

Yet we have to live with the fact that time and tide wait for none. Those who can't adapt become extinct like dinosaurs or Cheetahs in India (The Maharajah of Sarguja, MP shot dead the last Asiatic Cheetah in 1956 causing it's extinction). Anybody is recording a VHS tape, using a floppy disk, purchasing a Kodak camera roll, using dial-up modem these days ?Does anyone remembers when he or she sent a telegram last time ? We have to accept the reality and move on. Still it doesn't hurt to write a handwritten note to appreciate some one, because there is a tangible difference.

Reminded of legendary Akshaya Mohanty's song..

"SAKALA RA GAADI,

GALA GADI GADI,

KALA DHUAN CHHADI,

DAKA GADI GALA RE,

SETA NARANGI NARANGI NARANGI...

CHHATI DHAKA DHAKA,

MANA SAKA SAKA,

ASICHI KI TANKA, HATHA LEKHA DAKA,

DAKA BALA DELA RE...

CHITHI BERINGI BERINGI BERINGI.."

"The morning train chugs ahead,

 Spraying its black smoke upwards, 

 The Mail train proceeds on

 with its compartments coated crimson.

 While the Heart beats, Mind shudders

 Expecting her handwritten letter,

 Alas ! The Mailman delivers,

 a post-paid letter, to the receiver".

Many may not be familiar with the Odia term BERINGI mentioned in this son. It is the word Bearing pronounced in ONGLISH, i.e, Odia accented English). It denotes a letter with unpaid or underpaid postage stamp, the receiver must pay the postal charges in order for the postman to deliver it.