Taliban foreign minister in India

Though I am quite  progressive in nature and philosophy, one thing I don't like about the liberals about their lack of understanding of common sense and pragmatism. No wonder it is said that the thing about common sense is it isn't so common. Same goes with the extreme left or woke section of the liberals who are champions at shooting on their own feet.

The most recent example is a section of media in India whining about India hosting the foreign minister of Taliban led Afghanistan and the fact that no women journalist were invited at press conference of the Afghan foreign minister. Their complaint - as Taliban is anti woman, the Indian establishment didn't want to hurt their guest's sentiments by allowing a woman at the press conference.

I am all for women's rights and don't condone the brutal atrocities shown to the fairer sex in Afghanistan. America went into their country, foolishly tried to establish democracy and failed miserably in its mission. Teaching democracy in that part of the world is akin to our Odia saying - "SANDHA KU BHAGAVAT PADHAIBA" (teaching Bible to a Bull could be counterproductive). We are now seeing the results.

But with an unfriendly and volatile neighborhood with most gunning against it, India has no option but to befriend the land Afghanistan purely due to strategic reasons. Nothing wrong with that. We say in Odia - "SRI KRISHNA DINE GADHA PADA DHARI THILE", "Even Lord Krishna bent to touch a donkey's feet, humiliating himself in order to get his work done". Similarly India desperately needs Afghanistan on its side as the land locked nation which practices an extreme brand of Islam is located at a very sensitive region where all major global powers are pitted against each other.

It needs to be noted that in geopolitics there is no permanent friend or enemy where permanent interest thrives. Every country worth its salt practises the same to protect its self interest. Examples are aplenty. Historically Americans preach democracy but have no qualms about dealing with sundry dictators from Shah of Iran, Marcos of Philippines, Several military dictators Zia, Musharaf et all of Pakistan. For India its nothing new either. It has a history of dealing with Saudi Arab, Iran, China and the military junta of Myanmar, all champion human rights violators.

Countries practice their foreign policy taking the cultural and religious sensitivity of the other party into consideration. Indian deligates who are mostly Hindu aren't served any beef dish. The ones from Islamic nations aren't served pork or wine. The Americans in Saudi Arabia celebrate Christmas, considered unislamic in a ship off the coast of the Kingdom. Examples galore.

In this context nothing wrong with India hosting the Taliban foreign minister from Afghanistan if its suits the former's national interest. In this context, if not having a woman journalist in a press conference serves long term national goal, it's fine. It may be hypocrisy, but worldly wise. 

Happy birthday JP

 Jayaprakash Narayan is amongst the numerous great persons born in the month of October (incidentally he died in the same month also) and one of our much forgotten heroes. For me, he is synonymous with his opposition to the historic, draconian  Emergency imposed in June, 1975 and his role in the Lok Sabha (Parliament) elections that followed in March 1977, when Indira Gandhi who had imposed emergency called it off and announced fresh election only to be drowned by the Janata (Party) Tsunami.

As a 8 year old, I have little memory of the Emergency, but still remembering the headlines on newspaper The Times of India "JP WAVE UNABATED" (used to be delivered in Bhubaneswar by flights from Delhi in the evening). Jayaprakash Narayan fondly addressed as JP and LOK NAYAK (Leader Of The People) was creating waves across North India which wiped away the entire Congress from the cow belt. His slogan "SINGHASAN KHALI KARO, KI JANATA A RAHI HAI (Relinquish power, as Janata Juggernaut is on its way) caught the imagination of the masses in North India where the Congress Party was literally wiped out. (Though North India punished Indira Gandhi for Emergency, South India solidly stood behind her as she swept the Southern states).

I remember my father and uncle clinging to the radio to get the latest election results from BBC whom the public those days trusted it more for authentic news as AIR (All India radio) was the government's propaganda mouthpiece (Have things changed much these days) ? Late in the night came the news of Indira Gandhi and her son Sanjay's defeat followed by spontaneous celebrations on streets.

Indira Gandhi was defeated by Raj Narain, a political buffoon of the time and her son Sanjay by a local duffer goon. I remember fireworks going up lighting the sky and celebrations near SOOCHANA BHAWAN (Information center) in Bhubaneswar, only source of latest news those days, when internet, social media and for the most TV was strictly fantasy.

Delhi also didn't sleep that night when its denizens went on a frenzied celebration spree. I still remember the pictures next day of folks in bell bottom pants and long sideburns dancing on streets of our capital city flashed on Newspapers.

The man who sowed the seeds of the first anti-Congress government at the center with his concept of "Total Revolution" and united different political factions from socialist left to Right Wing under a single umbrella called Janata Party, is now India's a much forgotten and neglected hero. Khushwant Singh who interacted with many Who's & Who's during his long life span, mentioned JP as the top 5 personalities he admired -  "this man was so powerful and charismatic, yet so down to earth that though an extremely busy person he would give an audience and a patient hearing to everyone, big or small who visited him". 

Without him, Indira Gandhi could have defeated the fragmented opposition (she in fact swept the South and portions of Gujarat and Maharashtra who stood solidly with her despite the Emergeny) and possibly christened herself as the Queen of India and her son Sanjay as the Crown Prince. Thanks mostly to JP,  it didn't happen and democracy survived in India. Indira was to be taught a lesson. Otherwise she could might have made India her dictatorship. Emergency was probably her testing ground for that.

Soon after his death, the Janata Party splintered. Many likes Laloo Yadav who grew under JP's shadow promising to help the poor, ended up making himself and his family rich by indulging in rampant corruption. His followers forgot him and his ideology. Lot of things currently across the country echoes the times of Emergency days, yet vindicating history repeats itself and those who forget history are condemned to repeat it. HAPPY BIRTHDAY Lok Nayak Jayaprakash Narayan, last but the least one more of our forgotten heroes.

The Cuttack riots of October 2025

 The recent riots in Cuttack (Kataka in Odia) is extremely exasperating, especially Odisha is not known as a communal state by any yardstick. Odias in general are peace loving folks who being perennially afraid of police prefer to stay away from trouble (KALE POLICE CASE HEI JIBA - for they are mortally scared of facing police cases). Not any more as modern day Odias can't stay away from trouble these days, attracted to violence like moth to fire.

I love the city of Cuttack though have been a frugal visitor to the Silver city. Never seen the two iconic educational institutes for which the city is better known - Ravenshaw College and the SCB Medical College in my life due to lack of opportunity to visit them. Forgotten when was the last time I visited Cuttack. It was probably quarter of a century ago.

Cuttack and Bhubaneswar form a Twin city, separated by distributaries of river Mahanadi. A la twins, me a Pukka Bhubaneswariya (hard-core Bhubaneswar guy) and my friends from the city of Cuttack fight a lot among ourselves like siblings do. During my growing up days, Cuttack was the big brother, a happening city and Bhubaneswar its poorer twin. The later was regarded as a city of immigrants lacking a coherent culture of its own, termed by many as GOLAM NAGARI (The City of Slaves) ascribing to the salaried class slavish people serving their SARKAR (government) masters vis a vis DILADAAR and BOBAAL (Broad hearted and fun loving) KATAKIAs (denizens of Cuttack). We used to poke fun at our KATAKI friends for their squalor like SAHI (localities) consisting of unplanned houses entwined by narrow lanes filled with stinky, squalid drains compared to us housed in swanky, planned quarters in the squicky clean city of Bhonsar (Bhubaneswar in pronounced locally).

The city-zens from Cuttack boast to be fun loving, considering the 5 or 6 Talkies (local parlance for movie theatres) they had, a decent by the standard of those days and far more than any other city in Odisha at that time. Prominent of them were Grand Cinema, Durga and Nishamani Talkies - the later which played only Hollywood movies. From the quality of mosquitoes (the famous KATAKI MASA is capable of lifting you for miles) to the movies the city sandwiched between the bank of giant Mahanadi river and its tributary Kathajodi river always had an edge over its newly built adjoining capital city. Though critical of Cuttack's fledgling infrastructure, its dirty drains, whenever the latest Hollywood blockbuster hits the Nishamani theatre in Cuttack, especially a movie of my teenage crush Brooke Shields, I lose no time to visit Cuttack to watch her movies.

In this context, widespread riots which followed stone pelting on a "BHASANI" (immersion) procession of Maa Durga look out of place. Such things common in the Hindi cow belt states were rarely heard in the state of Odisha. But as us, also alluded as "DEKHA SIKHA" (Copycat) Odias who readily love to ape North Indian culture, this is another feather added to our cap. It was sad to see swanky departmental stores and a KFC outlet being ransacked and vandalized. Those involved in violence and pilfering aren't ideology mongers, but plain thugs and scums taking advantage of the grim situation.

Few years ago another place impacted by similar imbroglio was Bhadrak, a place associated with my childhood memories. I spent solid 5 years in that small town before migrating permanently to Bhubaneswar in the year 1976 and after finishing Class III at BANKA lower primary school in that city. Still remember living close to dusty embarkment of river Shalandi, high enough to protect the neighborhood from being marooned during monsoon floods, snaking its way through the sleepy city.

One of my first memories is my father, a huge fan of drama, cinema and theaters taking me to watch "Mogal Tamasha", a local theater  which best depicted the assimilation of Hindu and Muslim cultures. Still imprinted in my mind are images of our rental home in a predominantly Bengali neighborhood with multiple Muslim households scattered around, forming a sizable part of community and my friend circle in school. Still remember my school friends from class III with nick names SAIBA (A local variation of Sahib who sadly passed away recently), KRESTO (Krishnendu Guha), PATHANA (Rezamuddin Khan), PECHA (Owl), CHHELI (the Goat) who was a fast climber of KARAMANGA (Star fruit) trees and so on. All these thoughts came floating by when I heard the news of riots, same as an old song over radio waves wafting in, bringing in the memories associated with that time.

What is the commonality between the cities of Cuttack and Bhadrak which has turned communal in recent past ? Both stood as symbol of communal harmony. As usual, the blame game has well begun, before anything is even half done. Political parties are now accusing each other of complicity. In this murky world of alternate truth and fake news, the truth is the main casualty. Like Nero fiddled as Rome burned - the inept and corrupt administration is caught napping while taking its summer siesta post an afternoon bout of PAKHALA as Cuttack burnt.

An official statement of "the situation is tense but under control" has been issued - a standard bureaucratic practice from the Doordarshan (the solitary government controlled TV channel) days since 40 years ago. More than any official or administrative magic, let's keep faith in time as time is the best healer, keeping our fingers crossed and hoping for the best - for unlike many other Indian states communal violence is not the forte of Odisha. Let's keep it that way.

Kumar Purnima 2025

The festival of KUMAR PURNIMA (The Full Moon day of Youth) is celebrated in Odisha on the auspicious day of SHARAT PURNIMA, also known as the "Hunters Moon", the Full Moon immediately following the DASAHARA festival. This year Kumar Purnima is being celebrated today.

Unlike the more prominent national festivals of DASAHARA and DIWALI, sandwiched between these two major festivals, KUMAR PURNIMA is very specific to the state of Odisha. The occasion is perfect when the prickly heat and slushy ground post the monsoon season gives way to a balmy, salubrious weather under a clear blue sky, culminating in full blown "Hunters moon" smiling on top of the sky, playing hide and seek with floating fleecy white cloud.

The young, nubile Odia girl prays this day aspiring for a handsome groom, her Knight-in-Shining-Armor dream man to lift her in his strong, loving, caring arms to the distant full moon smiling up above the sky. Boys and girls alike attire themselves in their brand new sets of clothes. Varieties of PITHA (rice based cakes) are cooked at home from the thinner variety called CHAKULI to the baked variety of slightly larger than Golf ball size "ENDURI PITHA", which are no doubt healthy and tasty, but BIRI or lentil component in it produces a lot of gas. My favorite is the rice based MANDA PITHA which is stuffed with grated coconut laced with jaggery.

During our childhood days, we used to have an extended Puja vacation in our village near Puri, with the much awaited Kumar Purnima a fitting finale to the extended Puja holidays. My first memory goes back to 1976, exactly 49 years ago under a sparkling silver moon, we kids would moon around the tall coconut trees, creating clouds of dust in the surrounding, still struggling to digest the sumptuous lunch of NADIA KHECHADI (ghee laced yellow rice with sprinkled grated coconut), Sweet Dal and an array of other delicacies, singing together...

JANHI PHOOLA THO THA,
KAKUDI PHOOLA THO THA.
GUNDUCHI MUSA KAHI JAUCHI CHAULA MUTHE THOI THA.

roughly transliterated...

Ridge Gourd flowers go burst, 
Cucumber flowers go burst.
The Squirrel has spread message,
Keep a handful of Rice for forage.

Today 49 years later, I stand in my backyard under a spotted blue sky due to partly cloudy on a cool, windy evening deriving vicarious pleasure of another time looking at the full moon rising behind a starry sky through the pine trees - the virtual substitute for the coconut trees back home, as the swaying, chirping little birdies crisscross the crimson sky of the twilight. The plumpy, brown feral cat in my backyard chases away a squirrel, reminding me of the lanky kitty cat "Tipu" staring at us kids in our village from a safe distance as we went frolicking around the coconut and betel nut trees. Tips is long dead, but still alive in memory.

The slowly rising full moon goes hiding behind the pine trees, as the leaves swaying to the wind gusts try to wipe the dirt off its surface like a wiper cleaning a car windshield, giving me a clear view of the rabbit on the moon. An array of  Pelicans pass by cawing PAAON PAAON. The brightly moonlit yellow dandelion flowers leaves look brighter, smiling at me, reminding my good old childhood days and the nostalgic memories of a bygone era to cherish forever. HAPPY KUMAR PURNIMA TO ALL.

Singapore

 A decade ago I visited the city-state of Singapore. I was impressed by the place, professionalism and discipline displayed by its citi-zens and enforced by the government. Singapore's success as a nation is exemplary, we all know about that.

The country don't meddle in international affairs and mind their own business. Being a business friendly country it has earned the respect of the whole world. So much so that, US President Trump and North Korean dictator Kim Un Jung agreed to meet at Singapore for their summit. Singapore did something rare - making the two agree to Singapore to host the summit. One has to point a gun at both the heads of Trump and Kim Jung Un to make them agree on something.

But a tiny thing about a tiny animal did not go unnoticed to me - the conspicuous absence of mosquitoes over there. One would expect Singapore being a tropical country to have lots of mosquitoes. In reality, it is other way round. Though tropical and an ideal ground for breeding of these blood sucking parasites, it is mostly free of them, thanks to the cleanliness and civic sense of the citizens duly backed by the authorities.

One of the reasons one doesn't get a scratch from mosquito bite can be alluded to a man called Lee Kuan Yew, who built the country from scratch. A diverse nation of quality people, in a short span 50 years, he led its transformation from a struggling nondescript war ravaged port city, to a giant hub of business. It also arguably has the best Healthcare facilities in Asia. Singapore has turned out to be a model state in Asia, least corrupt and the most entrepreneur friendly in Asia.

One example elucidates this culture of civic sense and effective imposition of directives which every country should learn. In the early 1990s once Lee Kuan saw LUNGIs (a loincloth popular with Indians) and underwears visibly hung on the balconies of apartments dotting the city. He immediately ordered a clamp down and soon these obnoxious items soon vanished from the view and stopped dotting the Singapore skyline.

Once Arvind Kejriwal, then the Chief Minister of Delhi made a fake allegation against Delhi. When questioned, the ambassador of Singapore to India just laughed it off. The diminutive Mr. Kejriwal should know that
Singapore is not India. They are formidable and can teach you an unforgettable lesson. They didn't even bother US President Bill Clinton's appeal in 1990s to be lenient to an American citizen who broke the law in the city-state. They will care a hoot about a Delhi CM. 

A la America, Singapore is also the greatest example of diversity. Over the years it has attracted the best talents from across the globe to become the epicenter of trade and commerce. Many who contributed to its growth, originated from another nation. It frequently invites our legendary Odia writer Manoj Das as a cultural consultant, using the expertise of a real expert in the field of culture, who is pretty much ignored in his own nation. That tells part of the story. Singapore which lacked human resource, nurtured human resource in a short span of time to touch the zenith of success.

Experts say Japan stagnated into a lost decade due to its stubborn refusal to diversify. Diversity is not a dirty word, it is dear word. It creates a conducive environment, a confluence of knowledge and ideas for the betterment of the society. Embrace it to leap forward. Desist it to risk going back to the stone age at a fast rate in a faster changing world.

Lee Kuan Yew, the founding father of modern Singapore could envision this. He once famously said " China can draw on a talent pool of 1.4 billion people, but US can draw on the World's 7 billion. " He wasn't far from truth. His death marked end of an era, but the city state of Singapore continued as a modern state. Probably Singapore would not have been where it is today. Singapore today stands an example to its Asian counterparts.

Happy birthday Sashtri jee

The birthday of Mahatma Gandhi always overshadows that of a hardworking, honest, patriot Indian, a great leader who shares October 2 with our Bapuji as his birthday. He is no other than Lal Bahadur Shastri, who was India's Prime Minster, albeight for a short time.

If Lal Bahadur Shastri did not die the fateful day on January 11, 1966, 59 years ago, Rahul Gandhi would most likely be a mid level manager in some private company, only to boast about his great grand father being the first Prime Minister of India and Grandma being a Central Minister, instead of being the CEO and Scion of Congress Party Inc. Only difference, the CEO of a company is accountable to its shareholders, whereas Rahul Gandhi is accountable to none.

Lal Bahadur Sastri was a diminutive man with a towering personality. A charismatic person whose personal integrity was beyond question. He resigned as Railway minister taking responsibility for a train crash, something inconceivable and unthinkable these days. During his one and half years of being at the helm of affairs, he could capture imagination of millions of Indians. 

Thinking him as weak, Pakistan attacked India in 1965, soon to be resoundingly rebuffed. His slogan of the time JAI JAWAN, JAI KISAAN (Hail Soldiers, Hail Farmers) swiftly yielded results in form of yield by farmers which was enough to wipe out India's perennial grain shortage and motivating the soldiers who gave a befitting response to our attacking western neighbor by reaching the outskirts of the city of Lahore. It raised him to the zenith of popularity which unfortunately didn't last long due to his untimely and controversial death on January 11, 1966.

Truth is the first casualty of war. It reminds me of a column by the eminent writer Khushwant Singh. The legendary writer, known to be friendly towards Pakistan was once invited by the Pakistani consulate in Bombay where Premium Scotch and succulent Kabaabs were served. When the Sardar enquired about the occasion for the celebration, he was told that the party was to commemorate Pakistan's victory over India in 1965 War. Khushwant Singh said, "May Allah grant you more and more such imaginary victories and may I be invited to such parties where Premium Scotch is served."

Shastri's premature death brought Indira Gandhi to power, who soon consolidated her position by making the Congress Party her family fiefdom or "BOPA ZAMINDARI" (Father's feudal property). Soon others emulated her, except the Communists (though I have no love for them, I admire them for resisting the family fiefdom politics) and to some extent BJP, though of late it is starting to look more like Congress. Almost all parties, regional or otherwise are now family held Inc.

From the Badal dynasty of Punjab in North to Karunanidhi dynasty in South, from the Biju Dynasty in East, to Siv Sena Dynasty in West, we have examples aplenty. I am sure the history of India would have been different and our generation who were born in late 1960s and early 1970s would have seen a different India today, if Sastri Jee did not die on that fateful cold Soviet night in Tashkent in January 1966.

Happy birthday Bapu - 2025

Albert Einstein once said this about him - "It is hard to believe such a man in flesh and blood ever walked on the surface of earth". The world famous scientist wasn't far from the truth, as the man he was referring to rightly earned his accolades. We are talking about non other than our BAPU (Father of the Nation), Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi, popularly known as MAHATMA (the famous soul) Gandhi.

Born in Gujarat to an upper middle class family, educated in England, Mohandas Gandhi first experimented his peaceful protests against the brutally racist Apartheid regime in South Africa. He subsequently applied the same against the British rule in India. 

Gandhiji (as he was popularly addressed as) experimented with different vices and virtues early in his life, prompting him to write "My Experiment with Truth", where he frankly admitted his distaste for sex when as a young adolescent he had a sexual urge while attending to his ailing father and slipped away momentarily to his wife's bed to fulfill his desire. When he returned, his father had passed away. This incident filled him with remorse and anathema towards sex.

But sometimes his experiment went little too far. At old age of 67 after his wife's death, his experiment of sleeping naked with his nubile niece to test his control over libido attracted a lot of controversy. Tongues started wagging about a man sleeping naked, cajoling his neice to get naked and sleep next to him. His opponents, notably the Muslim League made a big deal out of it doing Gandhi's character assassination. Gandhi finally discontinued this practice after some persuasion by an image conscious Congress party. What happened in dark, stayed in dark.

Newton's 3rd Law says every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Same is applicable to human emotions. Every violent action would naturally follow with an equal or more violent reaction, often leading to a continuous, never ending cycle of revenge. But Mahatma Gandhi decided to fight violence in an exactly opposite manner, using something different and out of box concept called "Non-violence". 

Many with minimal understanding of history who blame Mahatma for launching non violent protests against the British should note that when Gandhi came back from South Africa in January, 1915 violence was not an option as India was not in a position to take the might of the ruling British by force. The last biggest organized mutiny against the was firmly squashed in 1857 as the British broke the last backbone of Indian resistance. Unlike many who believe that English shat in their pants and fled away on the sight of Subash Chandra Bose, militarily Indians never posed any serious threat to British empire. They ruled India with the support of majority of its people using an iron hand who with their efficient spying network could smell like ripe fart any resistance from miles away (For those now ridiculing Gandhi for his nonviolent method of resistance should ask themselves how many Battalions were raised by their idols RSS and Hindu Mahasabha - both were present prior to our independence).

However, his method of protest being unique, immediately caught the eyes of the world at a time when the upcoming electronic media was at its infancy. The world stood up and took notice, appalled by the sight of the "DANDI" march protesters brutally mowed down by the DANDA (stick) of British Police (Indians who formed the majority of the British police force had no qualms hitting or killing their own when ordered by their English masters). The victims didn't show an iota of retaliation or remorse and went ahead with their protest, still taking the blows from police baton and falling injured one after one another, until they couldn't carry on any further. 

This incident was covered extensively by the Western media which brought Gandhi and his unique mode of protest to the the World's attention. Gandhi was an idealist whose idealism did not fail in his missions, though finally he fell to an assassin's bullet. His ideology of non-violence was later replicated by Dr. Martin Luther King Junior half a world away in The United States to fight for the Civil Rights. Dr. King, like his idol Mahatma Gandhi was too assassinated, but both vindicated the efficacy of "Non-violence" as a mode of protest.
When India celebrated its independence, arguably brought by his non-violence means, instead of celebrating, Gandhiji spent the day praying and fasting. He was steadfast in his pursuit for Hindu - Muslim unity, but India was partitioned amidst bloody violence on communal lines, opposite to what he stood for. Gandhi failed to stop the partition from happening.

Post partition, Pakistan asked India to pay Rs.48 crore (480 million), a princely sum those days. India refused to oblige. Bapu wanted India to pay the money to younger brother Pakistan and went on fasting, forcing India to relent and pay the money to its western neighbor. Pakistan used that lump sum amount of money to buy arms and attack India.

As mentioned by the eminent Freedom Fighter and Social reformer from Odisha, Pandit Nilakantha Das who was a contemporary of Gandhijee, the later visited the Satyavadi School in Sakhigopal, near Puri during his trip to Odisha in 1923. Sri Das disagreed with his mode of operandi by getting freedom through spinning wheel of CHARKHA. After completing his public meeting at Puri, it was Gandhi's turn to proceed towards his next stop - Cuttack. 

Gandhi's team suggested that half of them would travel by train and the rest by PADAYATRA (March on foot). But Pandit Nilakantha advised all of them to take the walk, so as to build the momentum of public enthusiasm, giving Gandhi an opportunity to better connect with the local polulace. Gandhijee heeded to Pandit Das's advice, opting for a walk in coastal Odisha. 

On their entire journey Gandhi's entourage survived on boiled rice and vegetables. It was tough on Pandit Nilakantha, a typical Brahmin from Puri who loved his fish curry. Midway, he came across a leper and donated his hand spun KHADADA (crude cotton cloth) to the destitute. Next day, Bapuji encountered a group of KELA (nomads) feasting on Barbecued KATASA (wild cat) who strayed into their camp. 

He went on preaching vegetarianism to them, trying to dissuade them from eating meat. Gandhijee advised them - "Eat milk and ghee which are good for health. Stop committing the HIMSA (violence) of killing animals". But for the poor nomads, milk and ghee were pipe dream, a distance luxury and KATASA MANSA (Wild cat meat) was the crude reality.

After Gandhi's death, his countrymen hardly retained his ideologies. India continued to be riddled with violence of all sorts, later in the form of terrorism. The current affairs of our nation may aptly described by these few lines lifted from the Odia song LE NABEENA from 1981, depicting the sad saga of the Mahatma. (Naveena here depicts the typical down to earth Odia guy, no relationship to any person bearing the same name).

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

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

Happy 156th Birthday to Bapu, the Father of the nation. We may or may not agree with what you did or what you could have done, or whether your out of box experiment with non violence was an useful weapon. But you carved your niche to be the greatest amongst the greats who ever walked on the surface of earth.

Durga Puja memories

Durga Puja is thick in the air. Today it culminates on DASAHARA (10th day), after passing ASHTAMI (the 8th day of worship of Goddess Maa Durga) when it is at its peak. The air is filled with its unique flavor - the smell of "JHUNA" (Saal Resin, sweet smelling powder sourced from bark of a tree when lit emits perfumed smoke), the sound of music blaring and the sight of huge idols of Maa Durga on the PENDAL (pedestal). Puja always puts me on a Time Machine, propelling me back to my growing up days in Odisha and certain related events forever etched in my memory.

Once I brought some PRASAD (offering to deities) from Lord Jagannath temple, Puri for the priest at the local temple in the United States. The priest, a Brahmin from Gujarat, was very pleased with what I got for him from the sacred Jagannath DHAM (abode). We sat down chatting, as he asked me about my trip. I told him how much I cherish the fish and goat meat curry in Odisha. He was appalled and could not believe a Brahmin being a voracious eater of fish and a four legged animal. He asked me "AAP BRAHMAN HO KAR KAISE EK JEEV KO KHA SAKTE HAIN" - How can a Brahmin in you could you eat an animal ?

I had no answer, but narrated to him my childhood experience when we used to religiously visit our ancestral village near Puri during Durga Puja vacation - the equivalence of Christmas break in US. It was fun time when post monsoon the air was calm, moonlit nights cool and crispy. The schools, colleges would be in holidays and us in a festive mood. Unlike Diwali in most parts of India, Durga Puja ending in DASAHARA (Dussera) used to the major attraction in Odisha followed by the festival of Kumar Purnima on the following full moon day. Of late this has been somewhat diluted due to rapid cultural invasion from  outside, as our DIPAABALI got converted to DIWALI. 

The most awaited event would be the ASHTAMI (8th day) for the annual ritual of goat sacrifice. On that fateful day villagers would walk in droves to catch a glimpse of BODA HANA(Goat slaughter). The sacrificial BODA (a non-castrated male goat with goatee and smelling horrible) destined for slaughter would be brought in and tied to a post. The priest would arrive chanting MANTRA (hymns) amidst the cacophony of the beating of GHANTA (large brass circular plates). 

A strongly built DHOBA (washerman) of our village with twitched Walrus moustache with its thick end pointing downward would arrive on scene. Wiping off the layers of sweat beads from his forehead, he would unleash a sharp sword glittering under the morning Fall (Autumn) sun. With one massive blow he would detach the head of the goat from its body.

The disoriented torso of the goat would meander a few feet before collapsing, with its eyes wide open, still gaping at the crowd. The priest would collect its blood and offer it to the Goddess. Later on the goat would be skinned and its meat divided equally among the villagers as PRASAD (sacred offering).
This whole episode which created an earthquake in my mind wasn't free from aftershocks. For the next few days all that glittered wasn't gold, rather the unforgettable glittering sword slashing through the goat's neck gave me nightmares of the torso chasing me, the detached head hovering over it, the eyes still open and staring at me. As I tried to flee, it was catching up on me. I tried to outrun it, but still unable to move as the goatly apparition closed on me. I would be up in a flash sweating profusely. My sister sacrificed meat eating after watching one such goat sacrifice on this auspicious day of ASHTAMI. 

Back to the future - the same aftershock came back to life, as our priest from Gujarat in Georgia who was patiently hearing my narration almost fainted. He could not digest this scene happening in a Brahmin village where his counterparts had no issues digesting the scene, followed by meat. I can vouch he was glad that I did not bring any PRASAD from my village. Happy Durga Puja and DASAHARA to all.

10 die hard habits die hard - II

 (Continued from the part I of my last blog of 10 die hard old habits which have died).....

6. The 4 Cs of youth those days, i.e. Cinema, Cigarette, Cycle and Curly hair, Hippie style hanging over the ears were the classic tell-tale signs of turning into a "CHHATARA TOKA" (A Girl chasing vagabond) and BAZAARI (Free roaming loafer). Good boys weren't supposed to watch movies, smoke, go on long bicycle rides and keep long hairs. As an early teenager, I was once chastised by my grandfather for keeping long, wavy hair cascading like waterfall over my earlobes. Many found me cute in that hairstyle and complimented me, but not so much my grandfather who saw it as an early sign of stepping into the world of CHHATARA-hood. The long hair gradually became shorter over years, but I could never chase girls. Cigarette, popularized by Bollywood actors like Amitabh and Anil Kapoor is no more a fad these days, mainly due to the current generation have turned health conscious. Bicycles have given way to bikes and cars depending on the degree of affluence.

7. Chocolates or Candies were exclusively meant for the kids. Elders eating chocolates were frowned upon as being childlike. It has been described in the popular Akshay Mohanty Odia song attributed to his daughter, "MU KHAILE ALU CHAP, TU KHAILU LOLLIPOP". Transliterated it means - 

"As I savor my Potato cutlet,
Lollipop is what you just ate". 

An elderly relative of mine used to be very fond of Cadburies Milk Chocolates and Five Star Bars popular those days. But he was too shy to express it in public. He would buy those from a local store, loudly proclaiming to take it for his nephew and neices, but in privacy will devour a good portion of those. 

8. JANHA MAMUN (Chanda Mama), Indrajaal (Phantom, Mandrake, Bahadur) and Amar Chitra Katha (history and mythology) comics were very popular those days with kids, though Chanda Mama was read by all age groups. The favorite of the youth from that generation were cheap detective novels of DASYU (Bandit) Ranjan and Dipak series and tiny SATHI POCKET BOOK novels. Not sure how many of them exist and read by the current iGeneration. 

Another popular stolen and burrowed-to-never-get-returned materials were the popular Weekly Magazines of Sportstar, Sportsworld and Sportsweek, especially during the peak cricket season. The chief target were the colored center spread sheets of popular cricketers those days - Gavaskar and Kapil Dev. Those magazines would soon get raped and soiled, with those cherished center spreads gone missing. In our school library there was virtually a riot to be the first person to tear and grab those.

9. Remember posters and scribbles on walls proudly portraying - "BASANTA ROGA RA PRATHAMA KHABAR PAIN 5000 TANKA PURASKAR" (Rs. 5000 reward for the first information on Small Pox). The Cholera and Small Pox used to be the dreaded disease of those days, more dreaded were the preventive shots (injections) where a needle as thick as DAMPHANA (the Odia term for thick needles used to sew jute sacks) was stabbed to your hand or ass with great force. It would cause severe pain and fever for next several days. Don't think the present generation is so afraid of needles.

10. NUA BARSHA or The New Year's Day was celebrated on 1st January, not on the night of 31st December. As the clock chimed at midnight, most were in deep slumber, well cushioned and cuddled inside their comforters on cold winter nights rather than dancing their way in Bacchanalian jamborees in a faraway hotel or nightclub. A family lunch or dinner would suffice to welcome the New Year, rather than a New Year's Eve celebration.

Those were the days. (CONCLUDED)

10 Die hard habits die hard - Part I

 Those from my generation who grew up in India might remember these, which were unique to the milieu of the day. Not sure if our counterparts from the present generation still retain some if not all the following habits, but I am sure most from Gen Z will find some if not all these habits as oddities and us as interlopers. A few habits probably are still intact, some gone redundant, became defunct a la old rivers die unsung in deserts, drying in the sands of time. Many considered unwarranted these days - consumed by the ever encroaching cultural invasion from outside. Here is a compilation of 10 such die hard old habits hardly died.

1. Have a fever ? Your diet changes from normal "BHATA - DAALI" (Rice and Daal or Lentil soup) to "PAUN RUTI - KHIRA" (Bread and Milk). Saltine cracker is the snack of fever, known to titillate your numb taste bud. Also fever is the time to consume fruits considered exotic at that time - Apple, Pomegranate, Pear and Orange. They were preferred over the locally sourced and plentily available Banana, Mango, Guava, Papaya, AATA (Sitaphal in Hindi or Custard Apple). Though these tropical fruits were highly nutritious, for a strange reason they were thought as cold fruits which can aggravate fever, especially Banana and Guava. Perhaps they fit to the old Odia adage, "GAAN KANIA SINGHANI NAKI" (Country girl, Runny nose), simply meaning - "Local stuff, Unpalatable". Medically speaking, there is no such hot or cold fruits. The fruits which might trigger cough or cold aren't cold fruit, rather an allergic reaction of that particular person.

2. PETA GARAM or the Hot Stomach Syndrome, the colloquial medical adage blamed for every common ailments, from constipation to headaches. It was supposed to be the root cause behind common cold. No one knew what exactly the elusive PETA GARAM was, but drinking plenty of PAIDA PANI (coconut water) and flashing mugs of cold water on your lower belly at shower was the prescription to get rid of it. My take - PETA GARAM is nothing but symptom of dehydration caused by heat and humidity of a tropical country which could be cured by staying hydrated.

In case of stomach upset LEMBU PANI (Lemon juice squeezed into water) was used for instant remedy. Often a cut lemon was inhaled close to nose tip to prevent puking. The later definitely worked, not sure about the former as it often caused acidity.

3. Need old Newspaper to cover a dusty cupboard ? Make a temporary cup holder out of it for munching peanuts or making THUNGA (paper pouch) ? Go and fetch for the ubiquitous "SAMAJA KAGAZA", the default name for all Newspapers those days. The ubiquitous "Samaja" was the most widely circulated vernacular newspaper of Odisha those days. Once in my Primary (Elementary) school our English teacher asked a question to his students - "Which newspaper comes to your house ?" All in my class answered in unison - "Samaja". I answered - "The Samaja" and received brownie points from our teacher, as prefixing "The" in front of the name of a newspaper was dramatically correct.

Either way, The Samaja ruled every one's home, both as a carrier of news, then of utility value to be sold to the perennially cheating buyer of magazines and newspapers who would arrive every other week on his antique bicycle, shouting at top of his voice - KAGAZA BIKRI KARIBE KAGAGAZA (Want to sell Newspapers) ? The tyres of his bicycle would be seriously short of air pressure, invariably touching the ground. He would be carrying his "NIKITI or TARAZU", his hand held weighing machine and BATAKARA (weights of 500gm, 1kg nominations made of wrought iron), carefully crafted to cheat the customers. The 1 kg measured is never 1 kilogram, it would weigh at least 15% more for the benefit of the buyer.

4. The caption ODIA JUBAKA NKA UCHHA SIKHYA PAIN BIDESHA JATYA (The Odia youth goes abroad for higher education), followed by a Passport picture of the smiling man wearing suit and tie used to adore the inside pages of "The Samaja" - as I mentioned used to be the most widely read Newspaper of our days. The term BIDESHA or Foreign was euphemism for "Ameyricka" spoken in a thick Odia accent, meaning USA or Western Europe, mainly England. Don't remember anyone ever publishing pictures of those travelling to the foreign lands of Nepal or Bangladesh. Now way too many are making PHOREIN (Abroad) trips in Jeans and T-shirts to get a mention on local newspapers attired in suits and boots.

5. "ARRE ETE RAATI JAE TU KOUTHI THILU ? JA HATA GODA DHOI, PRARTHANA KARI PATHA PADHIBU" - (Hey, where were you hanging out so late in the evening ? Go, wash your hands and legs and do your study) - was the usual reprimand from our parents. Now a days it has changed to - "JA iPhone CHHADI PATHA PADHIBU" (Leave your iPhone to focus on studies). I heard the same from a father who was bewildered by his child's demands for a separate room and more privacy in his house, something unthinkable during our time when all the kids used to study together packed like sardines in a room, occasionally passing gas accusing the other siblings of the same with a "not I" look on the face. Reprimanding kids for coming late is so passe. Parents these days are regarded as intruders by their children for stepping on their privacy. Forget about boys, even girls of late are hardly questioned for coming home late.

Those were the days...

(The 2nd and concluding part of the blog will follow soon).

The H1B fee hike

 There are tons of discussions on media - social or otherwise about USA hiking the H1B Visa fee for all new applicant by 100 times from the current $1,000 to a hefty $100,000 (About 88 lakh Indian Rupees). This is a gargantuan amount which is certainly going to act as a deterrent, drastically reducing the number of new H1B applicants. India is the center of attention on this imbroglio as 71% of the H1B applicants for this coveted Visa are Indians, which is considered a path towards the coveted US green card and citizenship, the ultimate goal to attain the American dream for many.

Approval of Visa is the prerogative of any country. A nation has retains its rights to increase or decrease the number and fees, change Visa rules and regulations depending on the demands and circumstances, both economic and political. Regardless Visa is given at any nation's discretion. Getting a Visa is a privilege not an entitlement. Is the decision good, bad or ugly on short and long term for India and USA, the two major nations at the center of attention of H1B ? Only time will vindicate that. Rest, especially the majority on social media who have no idea what H1B is, having very little knowledge about it and little knowledge can be a dangerous thing - contributing to the prevalent chaos and confusion.

Many say that returning H1Bs will contribute towards entrepreneurship in India. That's possible, but easier said than done. Two things need to be noted. First of all, the overwhelming majority of H1Bs are job seekers not job creators. Secondly, the Neta (Politican) and Babu (Bureaucrat) dominated ecosystem in India hardly acts as a catalyst for entrepreneurship.

H1B also has its pros and cons. H1B holders have not only contributed to the growth of the company they work for in America, being high end wage earners they make their share of contribution to the US economy. They pay taxes, buy houses, cars, consumer durables and non durables, eat at restaurants, spend money on vacation etc. It is true that most of them are positive contributors.

But it is also true that, the H1B has been long abused. The Visa holders are often paid 30-40% less than the market rate as the profit in leau of it caters to corporate greed. That is just part of it. There has been accusations of fake degree holders brought into the United States as highky qualified techies only to end up working here in gas stations,grocery stores etc, some even work as prostitutes. Sometime back a juicy story circulated around about two sisters on H1B pleasing their employer making a good sandwich of him, occasionally shared by the employer's son. The father, so and the two female holy spirits reportedly had a good time until their luck ended as the authorities found out.

If true, this incident reminds me of the better known Odia proverb -

BATA RE HAGILE NA PADE
DEULA TOLILE NA PADE ..
Transliterated..

"If you shit by the roadside you get fame,
if you build a temple you also get fame."

While most H1B holders depict the temple part, a few are exactly busy doing the road side act. Unforunately its human tendency to go after confirmation bias formed due to activities of a obnoxious few than exemplery behavior displayed by the overwhelming majority.

More than the slamming of astronomical fee for H1B Visa or 50% tariff imposed on imports from India, the way these things have been implemented in an insulting manner to India is thought provoking. There is a double standard in US tariff policy as China hasn't been sanctioned any tariff for buying oil from Russia while India has been sanctioned 25% just for that. Obviously all pompous talk and hot air blown about us being "Vishwaguru" (Supreme world leader) and all the surrounding fake jingoism has fallen flat. That's because unlike India China knows America's choking points where it can hit hard, and can drive a hard bargain with Uncle Sam. India on the other hand has been taken for a ride.

It is said that India is most compromised as far as America goes as the children of India's elite, especially the all powerful politicians, bureaucrats and businessmen live, study or work in the United States which prevents them from acting tough against Americans. There is some truth to that considered the laid-back approach of Indian government. So far the Government of India has been caught napping or rather cause like a fox in front of headlight. Its response has been frugal, inconsistent and its actions incoherent. It has been suggested that India's PM Modi should call an all party meeting to take stock of the situation and formulate a coherent foreign policy with a solid 56 inch response in action, not by oratory and optics. Inaction is not an option. Like justice delayed is justice denied, action delayed is inaction, until Dolaand Trump catering to his MAGA base comes up with another bombshell.

Happy birthday Uncle Pai

 Today is the birthday of Uncle Pai of The AMAR CHITRA KATHA (Immortal Tells in Illustration) fame. Like many from my generation, I spent my entire childhood reading his comics which contributed immensely to my knowledge and character. More importantly, he inculcated a reading habit in me which I carry till date.

Pictorial depiction of stories and events can enliven the mood and leave long imprints in mind, which gets captured in memory like a lasting photography. For more than a decade I poured over those comics, starting when it was priced at Rs.2 until the price soared to Rs.20. The range of the Comics reached myriad subjects, which includes but not limited to History, Mythology and the Saga of Freedom Fighters who participated in India's freedom struggle.

The popularity of these comics could be judged from being the most sought after items to steal during my school days. Most of my schoolmates would rarely buy them. They would borrow from me and never retur. Some outrightly stole them. To stop this I came up with this novel idea - I lent those to whom I suspected with one condition. When I handed the Comics to them, I requested them to forget about returning and better keep them. The message was well taken. Though it didn't entirely stop the menace, it alleviated my problem to a certain extent.

Another popular stolen and burrowed-to-never-returned materials were the popular Weekly Magazines of Sportstar, Sportsworld and Sportsweek, especially during the peak cricket season. (Unlike today cricket wasn't played around the year, with fewer 50 over cricket, T20 games were strictly fantasy). The chief target in the Sports magazines were the colored center spread sheets of popular cricketers those days - mostly Gavaskar and Kapil Dev. Those magazines would soon get raped and soiled, with those cherished center spreads gone missing. In our school library there was virtually a riot to be the first person to tear and grab the center spread).

Back to Amar Chitra Katha - There is this anecdote of a famous King whose three sons could never focus on learning as they showed little interest in academics. So he appointed several tutors to impart knowledge on his recalcitrant children. All of them failed, until stepped in Vishnu Sharma of PANCHATANTRA fame. To these spoiled brats, he recited his famous short stories. The characters were mostly Animals conveying a strong social messages, which are very apt even at this age. The Princes listened to them with rapt attention and were soon transformed into a wiser, learnt lot.

Uncle Pai was one of those rare kinds, the modern world Vishnu Sharma. As soil needs tilling and crop needs rotation to retain and enhance its fertility, human brain's fertility can be nurtured through good reading habits. Uncle Pai was a pioneer in his field who immensely contributed to the fertility of brains of young and old alike with his matchless story telling ability. RIP Sir, many happy returns of the day.

The Dream of Akhand Bharat

There has been a lot of clamor about AKHAND BHARAT (Monolithic India) on social media, especially from the virulent supporters of India's right wing nationalists. This undivided fantasy land would extend starting from the border of Burma in the East, ending at Afghanistan in the West, encompassing Pakistan and Bangladesh, both Muslim majority nations which were part of India before its independence from the British in 1947.

That's not imagination, rather an Utopian, mirage forming huge hallucinations - strictly fantasy. It is a pipedream in the current vitiated environment bordering on miasma. It will be impossible for the Muslims to assimilate with Hindu majority of Akhtand Bharat, especially those from Pakistan and Bangladesh who harbor no love lost towards India. Such a proposition of humongous United India is simply unpragmatic and an absolute nonstarter.

In spite of so many cultural and linguistic commonality, Hindus and Muslims differ like chalk and cheese, like oil and water they will stay separately even if you try to mix. Each community look at each other with deep suspicion, the usual disclaimer applies. They widely differ in their religion, food, dress and cultural habits. Islam is monotheist while Hinduism is polytheist. Hindus revere cow as "GOMATA", their mother while Muslims have no qualms about eating bovine meat. You can identify Hindus and Muslims from their names as they are so different, so also their genitals as unlike the Hindus, Muslims  circumcise.

Once during my childhood I was visiting my Brahmin dominated native village near Puri. I was attending a marriage reception. I was sitting next to my grandfather when Banana leaves were handed to the guests squatting on floor before the food was served. In dimly lit light I put the Banana leaf on the ground the other way round. I was soundly chastised by Grandpa- "TU TA PATHANA TA KIRE" (Are you a Muslim ? Muslims in Odisha are often called Pathan though they are hardly related to the famed western tribe). He promptly overturned my banana leaf to spread it the correct Hindu way. I realized that day that Hindus and Muslims were like east and west, the twain won't meet.

The distrust, animosity, deep hatred in history
between Hindus and Muslims is nothing new and existed much before partition happened in 1947 when Britain quit India. It's a myth that the British created the division between Hindus and Muslims. As we say in Odia the two major religious communities in India had a "AHI NAKULA SAMPARKA" (a relationship between snake and mongoose who can't live amicably without fighting). The division existed status quo and the English were smart enough to use it to their advantage following their classic divide and rule policy.

When freedom was in air and India was getting closer to its independence, the Muslim minority got uncomfortable and increasingly insecure to live under the same roof with Hindus, but were looking for someone to take up their cause. Jinnah immefistely filled the leadership void and was popular amongst the Indian Muslims like a rock star.

Khushwant Singh mentioned in his autobiography that when he used to study in Govt College in Lahore before partition, Jinnah was extremely popular amongst Muslims. He was rather a rock star amongst them. Majority of Muslims were not comfortable to live under a Hindu leadership post independence and were looking for leadership. Jinnah, even in private he was pork eating and wine drinking, immediately filled into the void. It would be unthinkable for a Muslim with pork and wine consuming background to be a leader these days , even in secular countries like India and Turkey.

Per eminent writer Khushwant Singh who lived in Lahore before partition, the partition was already there on communal lines in the college campus where he studied. Muslims in the college campus had their own mess and befriended only Muslims. Khushwant Singh had a muslim Manzur Qadir as his best friend. The unlikely friendship between a Sikh and a Muslim was the talk of the town. Except few superficial mixings during marriages and deaths there was hardly any social interaction between Muslim and Hindu-Sikh communities. 

The court where K. Singh worked as a lawyer, a Muslim would trust a Muslim lawyer, a Hindu or Sikh someone from their community. If the judge happened to be a Hindu or Sikh his decision would invariably go in the favor of their community, same as with a Muslim judge to his own. The Muslim dominated Punjab police was openly partisan in West Punjab, as the Hindu-Sikh law enforcers sided with their brethren in the eastern part of Punjab where they were in a majority. The partition was complete.

Not much has changed since the partition days. It is another matter to daydream about Akhand Bharat. But there is huge difference between fantasy and reality. Do the dreamers have a plan of action on how to administer considering it would be practically impossible to unite Hindus and Muslims from India, Pakistan and Bangladesh in their current dispensation under the same umbrella ? Widespread unrest will be the call of the day. Riots will be a daily affair and Civil War will wage on forever. No one wants that at this point when not just the Indian subcontinent, but the whole world is sitting on a tinderbox. So dream on folks. Good luck on Akhand Bharat !!!

Hirthrik's Mahenjodaro

Though a Tiger as a critic, I am a tamed kitten when it comes to be critical of my wife's choices. It explains why exactly 7 years ago I smiled my way to watching a junk movie, the Bollywood actor Hirthrik Roshan's nonsense MAHENJODARO, an average, forgettable movie at a local theatre. I was there only because my wife is a huge fan of the actor.

I am not a fan of Hirthik, my son ain't a fan of Hindi movies. But both readily volunteered to be the BALI KA BAKRA (sacrificial goat) or collateral damage to wish of the sole female member of our family entourage. As contingency plan, my paraphernalia included a full pack of ALEVE headache relieving pills, in case they come handy and bought my son candies to keep him awake and happy.

Couple of characters in that movie, Hojo and Lothar seemed to have been straight taken out of Mandrake comics from my childhood days. As the movie progressed, I felt drowsy inside the cool comfort of the theatre as the AC whirred on a hot summer afternoon. There were barely 50 sitting inside the theatre meant for 500. The name of the movie sounded historical, hardly hysterical to appeal to the local Desi crowd. If you want to study history, you can still go to see this movie. You may focus on the subjects inside the empty hall as the movie got nothing to distract you. I did exactly that, noticing around to find some characters to write about.

To massage my other half's ego and send a message, I would intermittently alternate between peeking at her through the corner of my eyes and gaping at screen with my mouth and eyes wide open - to fake myself watching the movie seriously. A la comedian actor Utpal Dutt reluctantly clapping his hands to please his wife in the movie "ANAND ASHRAM", I put a fake smile on my lips appearing to enjoy the movie, intermittently with my mouth wide open exposing the phalanx of my 32 teeth. Not a bad way to feign attention, as we call in Odia AAN KARI PI JIBA (gulping the movie with eyes open) can do the trick to impress my wife.

I earned my fake certficate of enjoying the movie. It was akin to a bored DBA (Data Base Administerer or Din Bhar Araam, whatever way you see it) ex-colleauge of mine, who successfully hoodwinked his boss by dozing off while keeping his head straight, his fingers well positioned on the desktop keyboard which gave the impression of him working. End of the day the moral of this story is a twisted version of the PRESTIGE Pressure cooker commercial back home in India -

JO BIWI KO KARE SACHHA PYAAR
WOH HIRTHIK KI MOVIE KO KAISE KARE INKAAR... 

transliterated 

One who has true love for wife
How can one refuse Hirthrik's movie she likes.

My review of the movie - if you are a diehard Hirthrik fan or a Bollywood buff who feels like to kill some time by eking out a few bucks, it's for you. For the rest, it's avoidable at best.

24th Anniversary of 9/11

Today is the Anniversary of 9/11, when a prominent chapter was added to the American and World history on this day exactly 24 years ago on September 11, 2001. How time flies ! A child born on that day is no more a teenager. Feels just like yesterday when on a cool, crispy early Fall morning commute to my work at Toyota Motors in Kentucky where I was working as a consultant, the news of terrorist attack on the World Trade center came as a bolt from the blue. That very day is forever etched in my memory. 

Most at my workplace were stunned, but stayed calm and composed. Many were frantically trying to find Afghanistan on the world map and I remember helping a few in locating the beleaguered nation on the map which made the cardinal mistake of harboring Osama-Bin-Laden. No hysteria or public outcry, but it was not business as usual and anxiety on the faces of my coworkers was quite palpable.

I had the habit of filling gas in my car a local SHELL gas station which used to give 5% discount on Tuesdays and unfortunately that September 11th fell on a Tuesday. On my way back home I encountered long line at the gas station. There was hardly any car on the road. People were mostly indoor, glued to TV.

The aim of terrorists is to create terror and they really succeeded that day in scaring the hell out of Americans who were attacked on their Mainland for the first time in history (technically the first major attack on US soil took place at Pearl Harbor by the Japanese on 7th of December 1941. But it was in Hawaii, America's 50th State thousands miles away from mainland).

Contrast that to the indomitable spirit amongst Indians. Mumbai and many other cities in India have gone through several terror attacks. But within hours the life comes to normal. It's not about the number of people being killed, those many are killed in road accidents every day. The main goal of the terrorists is to create terror in the hearts and minds of the people. In that aspect they fail miserably in India, though it has more to do with the need for ROZI ROTI (daily bread) than any great gallantry against odds or fighting spirit. Yet they still deserve the credit of defying the odds and getting back to normal life quicker than anywhere in the world.

Nearly a quarter of a century down the road, hardly anything has changed. Though, touch wood, America has been able to prevent any major terror attack on its soil, terrorism across the globe still thrives. No nation on earth is fully immune to this disease which is spreading its tentacles far and wide like cancer, nor they're entirely blame free for letting this menace prevail due to their short sighted political goals.

Some one is a good terrorist as long as he is an useful idiot to serve one's own business, but becomes a bad terrorist if it hurts the state which sponsors them for creating terror in another country. Someone's terrorist is another one's Freedom Fighter. If not curbed, on long term terrorism is going to do irreparable damage to the mankind unless everyone gets together to root out this evil. Remember, if you keep snakes in your backyard thinking that it will only bite only your neighbors then you are living in fool's paradise. One day that snake is going to bite you. The lessons learned from 9/11 should never be forgotten.

Bagha Jatin

 Today is the death Anniversary of Bagha Jatin, or Jatindranath Mukherjee, an Indian freedom fighter who fought against the British and died young at the age of 36.

Born in Nadia district in present day Bengal, he was only 5 when his father died, followed by his mother at 9. He was brought up by his elder sister. From teenage he dabbled in fighting for freedom against the occupying British who ruled India with an iron hand. But Jatin possesed an iron hand using which he killed a tiger as he was scouring the forests to go underground and use as launch pad for his anti government activities. He used a small knife to kill the tiger but was grievously injured in the process. It took him days to recover from the poison of the tiger's claws and teeth which caused him deep, gruesome wounds. After this incident he was christened by locals as "Bagha" (the tiger killer) Jatin. 

Soon Bagha Jatin would shift his revolutionary activities to Balasore, a small town in Odisha near its border with Bengal. He, along with his close friends Chittapriya, Manoranjan and few more formed a merry band whose fiery spirit led to several skirmishes with the British using arms and ammunition. In order to run their organization they needed money and hence looted the rich Zamindars (feudal lords) of the time, most of whom sided with British. After looting, Bagha Jatin gang would leave a note saying that they are taking the loot to fight for freedom and will return the money with interest after independence. 

But such a thing never happened. During the World War I, Bagha and his associates established contact with  Germany who was seen as enemy's enemy is a friend as they were fighting the war with British. The Germans were ready to assist Bagha Jatin's gang with arms and ammunitions. But the mission failed due to couple of reasons. First of all, the English ruled India with the support of the majority of Indians and many of whom were eager to please and cooperate with their occupiers for a price or privilege. Secondly, British had created a strong network of spies and informants and like a ripe fart could smell any mutiny or revolutionary activities from miles. 

Based on the information they received the British Military Police closed in on Bagha Jatin and his gang inside the deep forests surrounding Budhabalanga River near Balasore. Though thorougly outnumbered, outgunned and outmaneuvered, Bagha and his associates fought bravely for few hours before most of them were gunned down or captured. 

Bagha Jatin was seriously injured in the ensuing gun fight. He was taken to a local hospital and treated by a British doctor. When he came to his senses he refused to get treated by an Englishman and threw away his bandages. He continued to bleed and died this day September 10, 1915, exactly 110 years ago. Long live martyr Bagha Jatin. My tribute to one our many unsung heroes.

A night of full moon

 Today being the Lunar eclipse night I went out to see the blood moon as predicted. Alas, on the semi cloudy, full moon night I could barely see the moon, but was awed by staring at several sparkling stars on the western horizon. I could see on the crispy fall night couple of airplanes high on the sky were looking like walking stars on the dark sky amidst a plethora of stars, big and small, bright and pale.

The stars looked like tall, beautiful fairies in some distance land, smiling, probing the sky, savoring the beauty of the cool weather beneath, showering their "MUKTA JHARA HASA", a la thousands of pearls sparkling on their lips, smiling at us mere mortals below. I was immediately reminded of this stanza from this Kishore & Lata duet from the 1970s Hindi movie "MEHBOOBA" about a lover and his beloved -

"TAARON KI SAATH WOH 

JAGTE HAIN RAAT KO,

JHARNON HI SAAT BEHTE HAIN"...

Roughly transliterated...

"They awake in the night amidst the stars,

Flow together along with the streams".

All my romantic thoughts were brutally, rudely interrupted, coming to standstill as a moon headed guy came walking his dog and walking past my driveway, waving his hands at me. The white doggy with his conspicuous rock and roll walk was looking golden under the neon lights on the street, trying to keep pace with the man as the guy's bald head acted like a convex mirror reflecting the street lamp.

The blood moon was still elusive, partially visible, still playing hide and seek in the floating cloud, shy behind the gargantuan looking pine trees in the dark. I was reminded of another Bollywood song :

"CHAND CHUPA BADAL MEIN 

SHARMA KE MERI JANAA;

SEENE SE LAG JAA TU,

BALKHA KE MERI JANAA".

Transliterated into English.

"Moon is hiding behind the clouds,

Feeling shy, my love;

Come close to my heart".

Finally the moon suddenly showed up out of the veneer of bluish, fleece like clouds like out of the blue a pretty Iranian girl took out her veil in a soccer match I saw a while back

WOH ACHANAK A GAYEE

YOON NAZAR KE SAMNE,

JAISE NIKAL AYEE

GHATA SE CHAAND...

Transliterated from Hindi.

"She suddenly arrives

 In front of my eyes;

 Bolstering my mood

 as moon ventures out of cloud".

It finally made my day, rather the night of moon watching on a full moon night. 

Teachers Day 2025

Today is TEACHER's Day, all other brands are prohibited. (Teachers is a popular brand of Scotch). Joke apart, I salute to all my teachers who have made a huge difference in my life by shaping my knowledge and character. It is not just limited to my teachers in school and college. My parents were my first teachers. Then came some friends, relatives, acquaintances as teachers in various forms at different stages in my life. There is always something to learn from every human being, a prince or a pauper, a beggar or a sorcerer, an animal or an inanimate object. Life is the biggest teacher. 

A good movie can be a good teacher too. In the iconic movie 3 IDIOTs, on the Teacher's Day of 5 September, the character Chatur Ramalingam goes on stage to recite a Sanskrit Sloka (hymn) eulogizing the teachers of his college. He rotes the Sloka by memory, without understanding a single word of it, nor caring about its content, without realizing that the original speech was altered by a playful and witty Rancho (played by Aamir Khan). As Chatur on the stage was about to vomit the Sloka he rote from what Rancho wrote, the later told his friends to get ready to hear a sermon about the former's farting prowess. Chatur recites:

UTTAMAM GAD GADATA PADAM,
MADHYAM PADAM TUCHAK TUCHAK;
THUR THURIYA KANISTAM PADAM,
SUR SURIYA PRANA GHATAKAM.

Roughly transliterated...

"Loud farts are majestically thundering;
Medium farts come along stuttering,
Small Farts arrive whisteling & sirening;
The silent ones can be life threatening."

As the crowd goes berserk rupturing with laughter and poor Chatur gets kicked out of the stage, Racho's dark humor taught us another lesson in academics - Knowledge acquired through roting sans understanding may earn you a Degree, but will take you nowhere. My father always emphasized on learning through understanding rather than roting.

Decades ago there was this incident, when a sub-collector in Sonepur district of Odisha did this shameful, cowardly act of kicking a hapless school teacher, abusing him as a poor MASTRA (the way the word master is often pronounced in Odia, a term mostly used in derogatory sense for teachers back home). 

I remember a cartoon related to the above incident which came out on the local vernacular Newspaper with the following caption, (rhyming with our famous Sloka "GURU BRAHMA GURU BISHNU... "

GURU DEENA GURU HEENA
GURU SAMANYA MASTARA;
KANDOOKA SAMAN GURU
TASME SRHEE GOITHA MARA
ITI UPA- COLLECTOR
JILLA NAMA SONAPUR.

Transliterating in the same rhyme form to keep the theme intact,

"Teacher is poor, Teacher is mere;
Teacher is just an ordinary Master.
Teacher is akin to a football;
To be kicked for sure.
Courtesy Sub-Collector,
From the district of Sonepur."

I have heard parents asking in Odia to their children "KIRE MASTRA AJI KANA PADHEILA" meaning "Hey, what did the master teach you today". The English transliteration may not sound so bad but the way it is delivered in the native language is not a sign of great adulation. It shows the respect they the guardians give to their teachers.

My simple take - A society which does not respect its teachers, can never  prosper. Period. Great nations are made by great men. Great men (and women) are shaped by their teachers. HAPPY TEACHER'S DAY to all.

Uttam Kumar - the legend

Today, September 3, is the birthday of Bengali actor Uttam Kumar. Many girls confide that he is the only Bengali man they ever had a crush on and could have readily married him as women of that era swooned over him. The man had grace, style and a killer smile. It is said that talented artists are "Gandharvas" reborn who live for a small time, but leave early leaving their mark. He died early too, a week before the death of legendary singer Mohammed Rafi. Both were of the same age.

Uttam Kumar’s death at a young age of 53 brought Calcutta to standstill on July 24, 1980. The Bengali hero of all ages was a natural actor who won over generations with his charm and persistence. After getting symptoms of a heart attack he drove himself to a clinic in Calcutta where he was attended by a team of cardiologists. But he died the next day in spite of the best effort of the doctors to save him, stunning the entire state of Bengal and nation.

Sharing a small incident of his life which stands testimony of his polularity and his stature as "Mahanayak" or the mega Star by his fans. Sometime in May 1966, the famous director Satyajit Ray called Uttam Kumar - “Uttam, my movie 'Nayak' premieres tomorrow at Indira Cinema. I hope you will be there".

"But Manikda (the nickname of Satyajit Ray in movie industry), the press and public will be in attendance. Do you think I should go? There possibly will be pandemonium,” he replied.

“Uttam, don’t forget it is a Satyajit Ray film (movie is also widely called as film in India, especially in Odisha and Bengal, the two states bear a lot of resemblance in language and culture). Please be there,” - Satyajit Ray commanded. It wasn't easy to say no to Manikda, even for a man of superstar status. Uttam Kumar relented, though reluctantly.

The next day, the news of Uttam Kumar’s appearance at the cinema house spread like wildfire and all the hell broke loose. By late afternoon, roads leading to Bhowanipore in Calcutta had to be barricaded. Uttam's car (probably a Chevrolet Impala) was piloted through the bylanes. The theatre was shaking under the weight of uproarious chanting, ‘Guru, Guru’ (Uttam's nick name given by his fans) with demands to see the Star. 

The hall manager rushed to Ray. “Sir, if we don’t bring him up on stage there will be a serious law-and-order issue.” 

Minutes later, the lights came on and Uttam Kumar was seen standing on the platform in front of the screen. He raised his hand. The crowd fell silent, as if by the waving of a magic wand. “I request you to please be silent and watch the film. Don’t forget it is a Satyajit Ray film.”

This story, a piquant testimonial to two of Bengal’s foremost immortals, is probably apocryphal. But that takes nothing away from what this tale protrays, which testifies two stalwarts in 1966 – from Ray’s sway over his cast, the pliant theatre manager and finally the phenomenal stardom of Uttam Kumar. In some ways, this story encapsulates the fantasy that was Bengali cinema. But as is known, it is not Ray who colonised that cinema, either as fantasy or as commerce. It was Uttam Kumar, and the one and only Uttam Kumar. Happy Birthday to the Mahanayak who if alive would have been 98 today.

Ides of August

August, one of the longest months of the dog days of summer finally coming to an end. This month has been hot, humid. It has seen devastating floods and lots of political heat in the Indian subcontinent, its two prominent nations who were partitioned this month celebrated their 78th birthday and 78 years of separation. US President Trump who imposed a  hefty tariff on goods from India keeps Indian subcontinent in news by claiming to have brokered the ceasefire during their short lived conflict few months ago. keeping it as a flashpoint of nuclear conflict still in the news. India's bette noire Pakistan as usual is basking in all the attention it is getting. Asim Munir, the Chief of Pakistan's all powerful Army is pulling all strings and basking in the limelight he is getting from the American President. In contrast, the otherwise self proclaimed self confident government of India is following a confused foreign policy like a fox caught in front of headlight and running like a headless chicken. Its blabbermouth supporters akin to frogs inside a well and a la Ostriches with their heads dug inside the desert sand, churning out one nonsense - the same way I churn out my nonsense blogs on daily basis.

August has been a disturbing month for our Western frontier neighbor. It is this month of August Imran Khan, Pakistan's better known Alpha male, playboy Cricketer who has a history of bedding a number of lasses and producing at least one bastard child from his groin was coronated as the country's Prime Minister few years ago. his month also saw with the 37th Anniversary of the death of another all powerful Army man and ex-President of Pakistan who once successfully persuaded the charismatic, cricketer Imran Khan to reverse his decision to retire from cricket after the 1987 world cup. Imran's comeback resulted in him leading Pakistan to win the Cricket world cup only time in history in the 1992 version of the Cup. That  President was General Zia Ul Haq. 

For Pakistan it would be the case of "The Ides Of August". It reminds me of one muggy day in August many monsoons ago in year 1988 when inside my hostel room in NIT (then REC), Rourkela BBC radio broke the Breaking News. It was the death of Pakistani President Zia Ul Haq in a plane crash. I also remember many of us ragging our juniors by forcing them to dance to celebrate the death of India's bete noire Zia-Ul-Haq whom the Indians loved to hate. At the same time I heard from a friend from our counterpart REC in Srinagar, J&K about the Muslim dominated College campus mourning the untimely death of the Pakistani leader. He said - "UDHAR ZIA KE SAMARTHAK SAALE NAACH RAHE THE JAISE UNKA BAAP MAR GAYA", roughly transliterated - "Those guys whose sisters I seduce were mourning as if their dads died". (Sala means wife's brother but in this context it means I am the seducer of the sister of whomsoever at the receiving end).

Zia was a diminutive soldier and a shrewd strategist. His regime would shape the politics of the subcontinent for long time to come. He set the stepping stone to keep its rival India in check by getting his country nuclear and bleeding India in Kashmir and Punjab. He once reportedly said referring to his support to Sikh terrorism - "Keep the water boiling just enough to the right temperature, so that it doesn't spill over but simmers enough to give our enemy, aka India a hard time". Hard time he did gave to India - so much so that he emboldened the Pakistani secret service ISI enough to subsequently stage spectacular attacks after attacks inside India, successfully protraying India over time as a clueless weak state.

Born in India, educated in St. Stephens College, Delhi Zia migrated to Pakistan where he rose his way up in the Army. He was a frail man with a short height, but a master strategist. He was lucky to be recruited by the British Indian Army as Officers were is shortage towards the end of World War II. Promotions were hard to come by until fortune favored him after Bhutto became Prime Minister of Pakistan. Bhutto trusted Zia against the advices of his close confidants,  as he thought his diminutive Army Chief as harmless and malleable, as the later was always obsequious to the Prime minister. Bhutto promoted Zia making him the Army Chief superseding others.

Bhutto used to poke fun at Zia by calling him our "Monkey General" in front of the foreign dignitaries, alluding to the later's short stature and long protruding teeth. Zia would always respond with his inscrutable smile. But these innocuous teeth would later become fangs with a vengeance, delivering a venomous bite to Bhutto as the "monkey general" had his last laugh by dislodging the PM in a military coup and hanging him in less than couple of years of ascending power. It is said he ordered Bhutto's genitals to be checked post hanging to ensure that the ex Prime Minister wasn't a closeted Hindu, a prevalent rumor in Pakistan.

It's said that Zia was a champion conversationalist. He would call his contemporary Indian Prime minister Morarjee Desai and flatter him by asking the formers view on benefits of drinking urine (Desai used to drink his own urine first thing in morning). Soon our first PM from Gujarat was conferred "Nishan-e- Pakistan", their highest civilian award. God knows what transpired between them but I am sure the cunning Zia didn't give Pakistan's highest award to the Prime Minister of their sworn enemy country for the Desai's sermon on Urine therapy.

An alumni of St. Stephens College Delhi,  he once invited a delegation of its ex-students, fed them well and gave them free luxury rides across the scenic and historic sites of Pakistan. The entire team, a member of which was K Natwar Singh would heap paeans of praise about Zia's hospitality. At the same time he pushed terrorists into Punjab and Kashmir. This Pakistani general proved himself a master Jekyll and Hyde personality.

Pakistan is a nation where Allah, Army and America rule. General was a staunch Mullah who permanently veered Pakistan towards fundamentalism. In the movie CHARLIE WILSON's WAR based on the Soviets involvement in Afghanistan actor Tom Hanks who plays the role of the Texan Congressman arrives in Pakistan and immediately proceeds to meet Zia. After meeting he asks for "Bourbon on the Rocks", eager to unwind a long travel from United States. 

He was bluntly told that alcohol is not served in the Presidential Palace and he has to shift to a hotel or American Embassy which is usually stuffed with alcohol to have his desire fulfilled. In another scene when the Congressman asks Zia (played by Om Puri) if any legislative approval is needed to supply weapons to the Mujahideens Zia retorted back - "I am the Constitution and my words are Law". He sure was. Had he survived assassination he could have hung all of Pakistan military's top brass if he suspected them of involvement.

He allowed Pakistan as a conduit for the Americans to supply shoulder fired missiles (ironically one of the experts in firing them was Osama Bin Laden). Those weapons each costing $50,000 brought down Soviet military aircrafts which cost millions. The financial loss was devastating for the Soviets already toiling under a bad drought and down spiraling economy. The mighty USSR was brought to its knees so much so that during Breznev's funeral they approached Zia for a face saver exit. But the shrewd Zia knew on which side the the wind was blowing and kept quite.  Rest we know is history.

Nothing lasts forever. The all powerful Zia's more than a decade of power came to an abrupt end as he died in a mysterious plane crash. It's rumored that KGB took him out as a revenge on him for openly siding with America in their Afghanistan imbroglio, bringing the Soviets to their knees. Only Allah knows the truth about Zia's death. Asim Munir should learn something from history and beware of the Ides of August as he steers his country through these turbulent times - his nation facing floods, bankruptcy although he has managed by make Trump dance to his tune, at least for now. 

The Day I of 50% tariff

 So, the 50% tariff on India went off the blocks starting today. All major markets in the world who were watching this closely went through a major sell off, including the New York Stock exchange. Pressure was mounting on Trump administration to come down to a negotiated settlement with India and reduce the tariff to a manageable level.

Nothing of that sort happened. I just woke from my midsummer daydream, getting up startled. However, something close to my dream happened not long ago, but not with regard to India, but China when Trump announced tariffs against China. The Dow Jones and Nasdaq were on free fall. When China sneezes USA catches the cold, when China farts, the whole world can smell it. Sensex in India has made some major loss today while it was a normal trading day in the Wall Street. It yet vindicates that Mumbai isn't Sanghai, China has already moved 50 years ahead of us. We missed the manufacturing bus in 1978 when China ran with it. Now our "Make in India" move is a classic case of too little, too little. Even if we get closer to China some time in future, our generation won't be there to see it.

Today, the beginning of 50% tariff imposed on Indian exports to America negates a steady and healthy relationship between India and United States built-up over 25 years, going poof in a period of 6 months. It is a classic enacting of the popular Odia Adage - "BAARA BARSA RA TAPASYA SUKHUA PODA RE GALA", transliterated, "Twelve years of penance has been swept away by consuming barbecued dry fish". It simply means, down the time travelled road all the accumulated efforts and perseverance in creating the image of India as a powerful, emerging economy, a vibrant, aspiring middle class, a burgeoning global powerhouse - all stand decimated by a single stroke of multiple events in sequence. Like the story of the monkey on a bamboo pole, we climb one foot on the Indo-US development ladder, only to be brought down by couple of feet - now back to square one.

The relationship between India and USA has been on a steep decline ever since India fought a 4 day, inconclusive war with Pakistan on the aftermath of the heinous, cold blooded killing of tourists in Pahalgam, before agreeing to a ceasefire. It nose dived further with India's attempt to demonstrate its superiority over Pakistan didn't yield the intended result, but backfired with downing of an unclear number of Indian fighter jets in the dog fight. Despite bravado Pakistan had its share of heavy losses, so had no interest in a long protracted fight. It readily took the exit ramp by agreeing to ceasefire and giving the credit to the US. But India didn't do so for two reasons. One, it would have impacted the 56" strongman image of Prime Minister Modi, senting a wrong message to electorates in the upcoming crucial election in the state Bihar. Two, it will internationalize the Kashmir issue which India has succintly avoided for decades.

However, India ended up earning Trump's wrath who wanted to bask in the glory of ending the war and thought India denied him that right. The Chief of Pakistan's all powerful Army, Chief Munir displayed consistency in his strategic outlook and messaging where India spectacularly failed. Not sure how long the bromance between Trump and Munir will last knowing the former's mercurial tantrums, the so called brotherly bonhomie and love between Modi and Trump fantasized by Indian PM's followers didn't last very long. Modi's supporters ever since are behaving like jilted lovers.

For now, the score is Pakistan - 1, India - 0. Pakistan's Army Chief Munir yet vindicated that crass opportunism and pragmatism displayed by grabbing the right moment at the right time with substantive diplomatic engagement works better than hugs, scripted events which are good for optics but yield nothing concrete. Foreign policy isn't done in media glare. If we couldn't see this coming given the fickle nature of Trump, then we have ourselves to blame for miscalculation.

It is reported that in recent past Trump has called Modi 4 times with the later refusing to take the call. Many Modi supporters are elated see this snobbing as the expansion of 56 inch chest of their leader. They should understand this is not a fight over a piece of land between the villages of Kapileswar and Sundarpada in Bhubaneswar, where one village Sarpanch gloats over the rejection of any overture of his counterpart from other. Foreign policy is much complicated and nuanced. It is an extension of one's national interest, done best away from media - social or otherwise.

We did a lot of Puja and Yagna (worship) back home, praying for Trump's victory expecting him to be more friendly towards India. Last April when I was in India our neighborhood "Kirana" (grocery) store owner told me - "TRAWMPAW ASILE AMA DESHA PAI BHALA. Pakistan UPARE BOMA PAKEIBA (Trump is going to be good for our country. He is going to bomb Pakistan). He must be a sad man. As Puja and Yagna didn't work, may be bringing a Tantrik to so some "Jaadu Tona" (black magic) on Trump could change his mind in the future. Foreign policy and international relationships aren't T20 cricket matches, it's a long drawn Test Series where fortune swings like pendulum.