Happy birthday Sanjeev Kumar

 If he were alive today, he would be celebrating his 88th birthday. He is Sanjeev Kumar, arguably the most versatile Bollywood actor of all time was born this day in 1938 in Surat, Gujarat as Haribhai Jariwala. A la his other brothers with congenital heart disease running in family, he couldn't complete 50, nor he could become a star like Amitabh or Rajesh Khanna. But he was an awesome actor to whom acting and his characteristic smile came naturally and hand in hand. Give him any kind of role - old, young, comedy, tragedy, father, husband, brother or a leader, he would bring the best out of the character. His smile, his style of smoking, whether a Bidi of a slum dweller or a pipe smoking business tycoon was unique of its kind, perfectly fitting to the milieu and the type of the role he played.

The other day I was watching the movie KOSHISH, where Sanjeev Kumar and Jaya Bhaduri played the role of a deaf and dumb couple who stammered, communicating using broken words and sign language. Stellar, emotionally choked performance from both actors moistened my eyes. Watching him one never feels that he was ever acting, he was just the next door man having a casual look with a harmless smile just leading a normal life.

In that movie Sanjeev Kumar was paired with Jaya Bhaduri, an actress with whom he had great on screen chemistry. Both of them excelled playing all different combinations of relationships between a man and a woman to perfection - Lover and Beloved (ANAMIKA), Husband and Wife duo (KOSHISH), Father-in-law and Daughter-in-law (SHOLAY) and so on. In the
movie LAKHON KI BAAT, a wonderful family oriented comedy movie Sanjeev Kumar played a comic lawer fighting a Worker's Complenation lawsuit for his brother-in-law Farooq Saikh. In the same movie, Utpal Dutt played the role of a Private Detective with a skull cap. He doesn't laugh at all, but can't stop you from laughing by occasionally winking his over enlarged eyes, swinging around his eyeballs - no actor has ever made me laugh more. 

Sanjeev Kumar's personal life was turbulent. He remained single all his life. Actress Nutan once slapped him when Sanjeev Kumar proposed her at the set of movie "Devi". He had also proposed to Hema Malini in 1973 which was also rejected. Both remained in touch even after he suffered his first heart attack in 1976. Dharmendra who later married Hema Malini was so insecure that during the shooting of the iconic movie SHOLAY, he ensured that Hema Malini (Dharam was chasing Hema and later took her as his second wife) and Sanjeev Kumar were not seen together in a single frame in any scene in that iconic movie. During the shooting of Gulzar's "Aandhee" Sanjeev Kumar got drunk and knocked the door of actress Suchitra Sen's hotel room in middle of night. An insecure and insulted Suchitra Sen almost left for Calcutta after this incident but for the timely intervention of legendary Gulzar who stopped her from leaving. The movie which had resemblance to Indira Gandhi's personal life was banned before getting released and turned out to be a huge success.

The singer and actress Sulakshana Pandit later recounted been in love and having proposed marriage to Sanjeev Kumar who politely declined her proposal. It is speculated that as a result of this rejection, Sulakshana Pandit chose to remain a spinster. It is said that Sanjeev Kumar grimaced and famously told Sulakshana Pandit in his distinctive soft, lyrical voice - "Mein Kisi Aur Ko Pyaar Karta Hoon, Aur Toom Mujhe aur Wo Kisi Aur Se. Zindagi Kuchh Ajeeb Si Hai" - "I love some one and you love me, and she loves someone else. Life is some what weird". He wasn't far from the truth.

Sanjeev Kumar's smile, expression and sarcasm filled dialogues came naturally to him. In one of his movie he is held hostage by a big, burly man. In order to escape he pretended to go to pee and showed his little finger to his captor. The big guy asked - YEH KYA HAI (What is this) ? Sanjeev Kumar says - "PEHLWAN JEE, AAP SCHOOL-WOOL NAHI GAYE THE KYA" (Mr. Bodybuilder. Didn't you ever go to school) ?

In movie SHOLAY he answers a puzzled duo Amitabh and Dharmendra querry about hiring them post a staged fight - TUM DONO KO YAHAN BULA KE KOI GALTI NAHI KI (I have done no wrong by calling both of you here). "LOHE KO LOHA KAT TA HAI" (only iron can cut iron).

Sanjeev Kumar was eqully deft in both comedy and tragedy, until tragedy struck him as he died of heart attack on the morning of  November 6, 1985 at the young age of 47. It was reported he Sanjeev Kumar smoke and drank, was drinking till the wee hours of morning when he had a heart attack and breathed his last. 

What a multifaceted actor he was. He was a good man too, having helped many in Bollywood, an industry full of selfish folks. Satrughan Sinha mentioned about how Sanjeev Kumar helped him with money during a phase when the Bihari actor was going through a rough financial phase in life and Sanjeev Kumar was one of the highest paid. In the movie SHOLAY Sanjeev Kumar was paid Rs.1.25 lakh, more than any of the other actors in that movie.

Happy Birthday Sanjeev Kumar. You will forever be remembered for carving your niche in Bollywood and beyond. But you have done wrong to the Hindi movie industry by leaving too early when a lot was still left in you. Rest in Peace where you are.

Happy July 4th 2026

 The Spanish explorer Christopher Columbus discovered a land in the year 1492, though the name "America" came from Italian navigator Amerigo Vespucci. Columbus (the name taken by multiple cities in the United States including the one where I live) died a frustrated man. Because the legendary Spanish explorer was never able to discover his dreamland called India - considered the land of opportunity those days.

A frustrated man, he had to settle for a group of Islands which he aptly named as West Indies (India of the West) when his ship "Santa Maria" sailed far west in the Atlantic Ocean instead of East where India was located. The name "Indies" was the consolation prize for his failure to discover the El Dorado of the time - the land of milk and honey called India.

Wish Columbus had lived half a century longer and found solace in his discovery. Because the readings of the famous French Seer and Clairvoyant Nostradamus - the man credited for seeing the future centuries ahead of time, which includes correctly predicting the arrival of Napoleon and Hitler as well as the two World Wars accompanying these two anti-Christs, two dwarfish looking men trying to create a tall world order. Around the year 1550 Nostradamus predicted that "The New World", as America was called then, will rise to its zenith of power close at the turn of millennium. He was half right. United States of America went a step further and become a Superpower at turn of the millennium, the year 2000.

A new star was born little more than a century after Nostradamus's famous prediction. Western settlers adventured their way to North America which those days had more Bisons than humans. The Pioneers (explorers in the form of initial settlers who moved further west and south) would expand the American horizon - from its initial 13 states to 50, each star representing one state, combining to form the United States of America. The last ones acquirer were Alaska - a lucky buy at a darn cheap price from Russia and the Island of Hawaii, now a vacationer's paradise. When Alaska was sold by Russia for a darn cheap price to America, the US press of the time howled - "Russia sold a sucked orange to us". US is now sucking oil and gas from the mineral rich state, not to mention the revenue from tourism in Alaska.

America became independent on 4th of July, 1776, commemorating "Declaration Of Independence", after defeating the undefeatable English, arguably the only nation ever in history to have convincingly defeated the British and drive them out of their land. (Although America retained the English language, Foot, Pound Unit of measurement and modified the English game of Cricket to their own Baseball). A defeated Lord Cornwallis had to beat retreat and accept defeat. Cornwallis who was driven out of America went later to India to establish the British empire over there.

America is still a baby, considering only 250 years old compared to the most civilizations of the world, some of whom are at least 10 times older. But the baby has taken some giant steps in a short span of time, which no one has ever done in history of mankind. A land of immigrants, it has come a long way since the days of the Mayflower (the ship which carried early immigrants). Isolated from rest of the world, America coped well with changing times - began as an agrarian society, followed by industrial revolution which made it self sufficient, whereas trading by selling its surplus made it rich.

Soon it surpassed Europe in opulence. By the beginning of the First World War, 90% of American households had access to car, 4 times more phones per person than British, 6 times more than Germans, the two nations considered compatible to US at the time. Except a blip post during the 1929 financial crisis which exposed the ugly underbelly of American Capitalism, its opulence prevailed. The reason - America's uncanny ability to continually innovate, invent and improvise. From Electricity, Air Conditioning, Airplanes to this platform called Facebook and its host internet, the Apple iWhatever devices we use to connect and communicate across globe as well as use these American products to be critical of the United States are all America's contribution to the rest of the world.

Those who built America from the scratch were adventurous, because they arrived at a time when they left home knowing that they aren't going to come back. They also didn't know what's in store for them at their new place of arrival. They also  knew that they can't communicate to their folks back home in an age sans telephone and internet. Patriotism is ingrained in this nation, vindicated by still able to stitch the country together post Civil war which lasted from 1861-1865.

America is known for its resilience. Those pejorative towards the USA should know that it has been through shittier times and came out unscathed. Bad times too shall pass. So stuff your wishful thinking about America's demise to your most convenient orifice. Time and again this nation has proved wrong its detractors who predicted its early demise. The end of America as they see is premature and preposterous. The nation will thrive as long as it retains the edge in technology and juggernauts ahead on its wheels of unbridled innovation and free market. Happy 250th milestone  birthday to the United States of America. WISH ALL A HAPPY 4TH OF JULY. Enjoy the fireworks and stay safe.

The Odisha school textbook fiasco

There is a lot of brouhaha going on in Odisha about ridiculous and trivial errors in Odia text books in the vernacular medium schools. After looking at few of them, some outrightly funny I didn't know whether I would laugh or cry ! Regardless, nothing could be more atrociously disgusting than this.

Mass Education is a sine qua non of a healthy society. A child's education is very important to the growth of his or her mind and shaping the child's future. And the teachers and school curriculum form the salient part of it. A few errata here and there are acceptable. But there are 1600 errors already identified. What's not acceptable is teaching Isaac Newton was a pilot who flew Airplanes, a popular Bollywood song "Nimbuda Nimbuda.." presented as a Rajasthani song in Odia script in Class V English textbook. Niyamgiri Hills of Odisha was shown as part of Jharkhand in Geography book. Wheat was written as paddy, temperature as pressure and equinox as equator, not to mention enormous number of typos. Errors are way too many and to mention them all is beyond scope of this blog.

The response of the state government so far is tardy and miserable. As expected it is in denial mode with the Chief Minister of the state blaming it on conspiracy by his rivals to give him and his government a bad name. The opposition parties have rallied around to embarrass the ruling party. The blame game continues.

Now coming from a family of teachers this fiasco not only annoys me, it hurts me a lot. I am sure a lot of those who are reading this blog are on the same page with me. The fault not just lies with the books, its with the entire system which is both inept and corrupt. The quality of teaching has gone down as teachers are paid in peanuts and teaching is no longer a respected profession.

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  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 the guardians of the students 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. Hope a public apology is issued, these errors are rectified and appropriate legal actions taken against the culprits. The sooner it is done, the better it is.

Death of Chhabirani's husband

 The death of Naba Kishore, a journalist in 1980s might ring a bell to many. He was the husband of Chhabirani, a woman whose untimely shook the state of Odisha. My first memory of that heinous crime goes back to 1980 when as a 11 year old, I was hardly old enough to comprehend the depth it yet old enough to recognize its evilness and impertinence to any civil society.

The incident was the rape and murder of Chhabirani, the wife of journalist Naba Kishore who went above and beyond his job to expose the nexus of a cabal of crooks of petty politicians, local officials and small time businessmen in coastal Odisha's Jagatsinghpur, then part of the undivided Cuttack district. It was an unusual bold step for a journo from a state where his fraternity's ethics can be judged by the paens of praise they can heap on you for a bottle of liquor. (Khushwant Singh once wrote that Indian journalists are suckers for freebies and champion consumers of alcohol as long as someone else paid for it. Usual disclaimers apply).

The tragedy happened when the family was trying to escape their village. The journalist accompanied by his pregnant wife and child were chased by criminals trying to flee his village in the middle of night. The moon was pale in the dimly lit sky as they tried to cross the BILUAKHAI river, one of several distributary rivers criss crossing the vast Mahanadi delta in coastal Odisha. 

Here is where the details get sketchy. Some say the pregnant wife along with her little kid could not cope with his faster walking husband and fell behind getting separated for ever. Another version - the man had to attend his nature's call and took time to relieve himself near the sandy bed and wash himself clean with the river water doing his ablusion as village living folks do. He lost some valuable time only to come back and regret later - for his wife was nowhere to be seen, her raped, dismembered body only to be discovered a few days later. We probably don't know which one of these versions is true.

But what we know, the men on chase took their turns to rape Chhabirani to death along with her yet to be born child. Her semi buried body from the sands of river was recovered later in a decomposed state. But this incident survived the sands of time to become a folklore of the area for a long time to come. It was the age sans social media in Odisha when internet and cell phones were strictly fantasy. TV was non existent in the state of Odisha. "SAMAJA", the only widely circulated vernacular newspaper of the time with some reach to the interior parts of Odisha carried the news. The brutality of the crime against a pregnant woman raped and killed in cold blood caught the imagination of the common man of Odisha - at least in its thickly populated coastal belt. A local JATRA (Folk Troupe) made a lot of money reenacting this episode with a play named RAPE and MURDER made out of this ghastly incident.

Laxman Mallick, the contemporary MP of Jagatsinghpur from the Congress party was accused of shielding the perpetrators of this inexcusable act. It is said he was made a scapegoat, the fall guy as the entire chain of the higher ups, including the contemporary Chief Minister J.B.Patnaik, an erudite but corrupt and controversial guy allegedly tried their best to protect their political turf by containing the fall out of the crime.

Time flew. Years later, I read the news of the bereaved journalist Naba Kishore getting remarried, becoming a father again and leading a low profile life. Today I read the news of his passing away. In all these years was justice ever delivered to Chhabirani then and those who commited the crime got punished ? Your guess is as good as mine. 

Civic sense and sensibility

 Recently there has been lots of news about lack of civic sense shown by Indians living or visiting abroad. On foreign lands from dancing on train tracks, airport termacs to soiling bathrooms and bathrooms in hotels, using swimming pools as community baths wearing "Gamcha" & rubbing soap on body to be videographed, talking loudly in hotel lobbies, making reels at historic places like Great Wall of China, shoplifting and so on.

In Texas, America our Desi (a term used in USA for Persons of Indian origin, often in a deregatory way) siblings dance beating drums on roads inside the suburban communities celebrating Hindu festivals and drying "Papads" on their driveways, raising eyebrows. Not long ago many LUNGI (Indian loincloth which can be removed quickly for multipurpose acts) wearing bros showered a portrait of their favorite movie actor with milk followed by wild dancing lifting and swinging their Lungis for wide eyed onlookers clicking pictures and videos of theie action. The list is long and endless.

This behavior of us Desis hasn't gone unnoticed by the countries at the receiving end, followed by swift reactions. There has been reports of restaurants in Vietnam putting up boards proclaiming "Indians not allowed". In Switzerland a hotel displayed a note not to wash utensils in the bathroom tubs after discovering marvelous, curry smelling grease residue on white marble. Most of the Wheel chairs used to board Aircrafts are cornered by Indians who are accused of grossly misusing this facility. I have overheard an Airline staff pushing the wheelchairs passing disparaging remarks against Indians.

Are majority of Indians or person of Indian origin involved in these ? Certainly not. Only a handful of them do so, enough to spoil the name of the entire community. Why are we doing this ? Old habits die hard. A Keonjhar mining mafia in Odisha who not so long ago started from an humble beginning suddenly got rich taking advantage of the iron ore mining boom in the district. Though he built multiple mansions equipped with state of the art bathrooms, he still prefers to shit in open fields. Even on rainy days he ventures out in open to take a huge dump under "MUKTA AKASHA" (open sky) and gets immense pleasure by taking a look at the size of his dump. The bigger the size of the dump, more satisfaction he gets to return home happy.

I am now reminded of the popular Odia proverb, 

BATA RE HAGILE NA PADE
DEULA TOLILE NA PADE .

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

While most persons of Indian origin depict the "building temple" part, a few of us Desis are exactly busy doing the road side act, occasionally literally. If you put a spoon of wine to a barrel of shit, it is shit. If you put a spoon of shit to a barrel of wine, it is still shit. Unfortunately the image of an entire community gets tarnished due to the act of a few.

We need to a bit careful about displayed our lack of civic sense abroad. Every country isn't lenient to such behaviors and can come down heavily on the recalcitrant folks. Countries like Singapore are formidable and can teach you an unforgettable lesson. For example the government of the successful city-state didn't bother a bit to consider US President Bill Clinton's appeal in 1990s to be lenient to an American citizen who did an act of vandalism on Singapore's soil. They will care a hoot about an Indian tourist. Similarly our next reel taking in China or Russia could land us in a Gulag and our spare parts may never be found.

In the last couple of decades many of us  have earned money and grown stinking rich. But our mannerism, civic sense hasn't been able to cope up with our nouveau riche status. This, coupled with sections of the diaspora having a negative perceptions through arrogance, prejudice, and an inflated belief that India has become a global superpower whose citizens deserve special treatment everywhere doesn't help. To add fuel to fire, in the age of social media and reels, such acts of lack of civic sense gets amplified. And it is the silent law abiding Indian diaspora abroad who is paying a price for such obnoxity ! Hopefully it changes for better in future.7

Raja festival of Odisha 2026

The month of June is regarded as the beginning of the summer season in USA, whereas in Odisha, my home state back home in India it marks the beginning of the end of the blistering, hot summer season. RAJA SANKRANTI is a popular festival during this time of the year - especially in the long, culturally and historically rich coastal Odisha welcoming the monsoon rains which brings down the scorching heat prevalent for months.

The festival invariably comes in mid June per the Gregorian calendar and marks the beginning of the summer crop plantation, especially rice. Raja festival isn't native to Western Odisha and frugally celebrated there. It is also considered as the harbinger of the cooler rainy season, as the South West monsoon rolls over the state from the North East, lashing it with silvery stripes of rain. The nimbus cloud bearing dark sky gets alive with the spectacle of flashes of white lightning as if zillions of flashlights are switched simultaneously in the sky, a la the zigzag lights on a circus stage or a JATRA (dance troupe) show popular in Odisha. During daytime the rain is often followed by the sky getting rewarded in the form of a rainbow of garland. These long awaited rains bring much needed relief from the long streak of heat and prickly humidity, healing the parched earth dried from a long, extended Indian summer.

As the silvery monsoon rains ornament the thick humid air, the perfume of PODA PITHA (baked rice cake) pervades the environment. Young and old alike play on DOLI (swings), with men snarling their blackened teeth and girls exposing red pouty lips - post effect from chewing PAAN (betel leaves filled with colored condiments and scented tobacco for those habitual with the stuff). The drenched earth, now softened by the fresh summer rains on parched earth accompanied by wafting petrichor scent, gets ready for tilling, marking the beginning of the KHARIP crop farming season when water supply gets plenty due to monsoon rains. 

I still cherish the memories of my trips to our ancestral village near Puri during my childhood days for a fun filled lunch of GHEE (clarified butter) laced NADIA KHECHUDI (coconut sprinkes sweet rice), thick sweet DAAL (Lentil soup), an array of Curries and fries, washed down with KHIRI (sweetened skimmed milk). It would invariably be followed by an afternoon session on the RAJA DOLI (swing). Dinner would be PITHA (Rice cakes) and more varieties of PITHA - the icing on the cake would be occasional PODA PITHA made from ripened TAALA, fruit from tall palm trees, as a fitting finale to a day of RAJA MAUJA (fun).

I remember the tall palm tree standing taller than the surrounding Coconut trees behind our house in our village, right behind our home facing a green pond perennially covered with a cessful of watercress in its dark, stenchful barely visible water where locals wash their utensil as well as their buttocks post defecation. During the early monsoon close to the 3 day long Raja festival these large brownish-black color fruits from the palm tree, looking like coconut sized plums with a yellowish orange pulp ripen and fall off from the tree. Many roll into the green swamp. Those who survive make their way to make PODA PITHA of different flavor. I was sad to hear that particular palm tree ruptured from its middle as it couldn't withstand the devastating force from Cyclone Fani a few years back, closing a chapter of the history of my ancestry. 

A few summers ago in Odisha, on the morning of RAJA Festival I switched on the TV. A promotional song LEMBU, ATI CHUPUDILE PITA (Excessively squeezed lemon tastes bitter) from an Odia movie scheduled for the RAJA release (same as prominent Bollywood movies go for a Diwali or Eid Release) was playing on screen as an Odia actress danced to the tune of a song from that movie. It was symbolic of Raja being commercialized, now  celebrated in big hotels in bigger cities as the action has shifted from the villages to the cities.

This was followed by an interview of the actress. It didn't go unnoticed to me that a discussion about an Odia movie, between an Odia anchor and a leading Odia actress getting released on a leading Odia festival, was taking place with a typical accented Odia with almost an equitable spread of 50% Odia, 30% English and 20% Hindi. Speaking in pure Odia is a sign of being a GAUNLIA (from village origin) these days, whereas talking accented Odia sounds so cool. A lot of billboards and commercials on local newspapers take pride in pronouncing RAJO instead of RAJA. 

A person usually speaks with an accent when speaking a language other than his or her mother tongue. Odisha is perhaps the only place on earth, where some (certainly not all) natives, especially from the new generation not only love to speak their own mother tongue with an accent, also chose to write it in another accent, e.g, RAJA as RAJO, MANSA as MANSHO bear testimony of it. Wish you a Happy RAJA (certainly not RAJO) from the bottom of my heart. Have a feel and fill of RAJA MAUJA.

My tryst with AC going poof

There is a saying in Odia - MANISHA SABU THARU BADA SUBIDHA BAADI PRANI (Humans are creatures of comfort). No wonder I was vindicated in last 24 hours.

I normally set my home temperature at 78°F (25°C) in summer. Yesterday afternoon no sooner I entered my home, than I felt a burst of warmth, not the usual cool comfort of humming sound of the Air Conditioning on a  summer day. I instantly suspected that something was wrong with my AC. Soon my worst fear came true. The thermostat read 84°F (27°C). It was tell tale sign of the Air Conditioning going poof.

It wasn't until the next day afternoon the AC mechanic arrived. Fixed my Air Conditioning Unit cost me a cool $278. As the unit started pumping out pleasantly cool air wafting across my house, it was literally a breath of fresh air for us. The humming of the AC circulating fresh air sounded like music to my ears. The sight of the slow climb down of the thermostat from 84°F to 78°F felt so comforting.

The outside temperature was 92 degrees (33°C), nothing compared to the Indian summer heat of 40°C (104°F) I was accustomed to, much higher with the heat index if you take the sweltering humidity into consideration. During this time of the year we go through the phase of ANASARA GULUGULI (muggy) days in Odisha. The almost static air, pregnant with water vapor and barely moving a leaf on trees becomes unbearable. One feels like a melting man with hardly any relief in sight. We all took solace from a free Sauna bath.

Without access to Air Conditioning we can adjust to the environment, vindicating Darwin's theory of the survivor of the fittest. Humans being intelligent animals readily adjust to the situations and cicumstances. That's why we survived whereas the dinosaurs, mammoths and mammoth number of animals part of the fauna couldn't.

Yet we didn't complain and suffered the heat of the summer and humidity into our stride those days when Air Conditioning, now ubiquitous, was strictly a luxury item - a fantasy for the Indian middle class. But nowadays just 90 degree Fahrenheit heat with lot lesser humidity makes me feel like a fish out of water. 24 hours without AC felt like eons. Man is definitely without any doubt a creature of comfort and I am certainly not an aberration. Just 24 hours without AC in summer vindicated this fact.

During World War II at the time of relentless Nazi Bombing the British Royal Air Force fought bravely against the air blitzkrieg of Germany's Luftwaffe. Winston Churchill, then British war time Prime Minister said this about the Royal Air force - "Never in the History of mankind so many were dependent on so few", a tribute to the contribution of the handful of pilots who stubbornly defended the entire English population from the Nazi onslaught. Same can be attributed to AC - "Never in the history of Mankind, so many humans were dependent on a mechanical unit". When in the summer month of July, 1902, a 25-year-old engineer from New York named Willis Carrier invented the first modern air-conditioning, little he knew his invention would be indispensable a century later.

How two rainstorms shaped history

How two rainstorms decided the fate of British Empire by defining the outcome of two major wars and the future of two British colonies on both sides of the world.

The Englishmen were lucky from the outset of the Battle of Plassey fought in a mango orchard of Bengal. It was the month of June and a heavy pre-monsoon downpour wetted the gunpowder of the Army of local Nawab Siraj-ud-Daula who was preparing to take the British Army head on. His generals were foolish not keep the gunpowder dry from the pouring rain. In contrast, Robert Clive, the master strategist leading the much smaller British army had the foresight to cover his gunpowder stock with rain proof tarpaulin.

No sooner the rain cleared and the war started, than English cannons came blazing in full force. The Nawab's army already weakened by treachery of Mir Jaffer and his soggy gunpowder failing to ignite, the helpless cannons were witness to a crushing defeat of the Nawab's army. This victory was a major step towards the establishment of the British empire in India. The year was 1757.

Exactly 20 years later in 1777 on other side of the globe, the same British were engaged in a fight to the finish with the American army led by the legendary George Washington near a city to be later named after him close to river Potomac. Washington was a bit nervous due to the size and sophistication of the professional, experienced and battle tested well trained British Army and the French help on its way was days away.

Just before the battle began, the wind started gathering speed. The sky started turning into gray, suddenly becoming dark with lightning as powerful Nor'ester approched which is very typical of North Eastern America during summer. The Armies from both sides failed to see the gathering storm and were rattled, but it was the British standing on a lower ground were at the worst receiving end. Their powerful but heavy artillery and cannon got buried, stuck in slush mud. The horses and men were scattered helter skelter. Damage caused by the weather was devastating enough to stop the war not for hours but for several days before the French troops arrived from the North to bolster the American troops. Boisterous with the new enforcement, the Americans led by an able General in George Washington managed to defeat Lord Cornwallis's British Army in a bitterly fought yet divisive war which led to the foundation of the United States of America.

A frustrated, dejected Lord Cornwallis under whose wings the British faced a rare defeat at that time, later went to India to establish the British empire there, its crown colony by defeating Mysore's Tipu Sultan few years later. This is how two rainstorms in 12 years shaped history of the world separated by 12 time zones.

Happy birthday Binod Kanungo

 Today is the birthday of another of Odisha's forgotten heroes. His name is Binod Kanungo, the man who wrote GYANA MANDALA or Encyclopedia in Odia.

Born this day in the year 1912, Mr. Binod Kanungo wasn't highly educated, nor he earned any fancy degree. But he was a brilliant student and a voracious reader. Like many famous creative persons he was a school dropout, though he left pursuing formal education for a different reason. Inspired by JATIYA KABI (National Poet) Bira Kishore he decided to drop out of school on 10th of April, 1930 to join in full fledge the Freedom movement against British.

After being released from the jail, in post independent India he had the option of plunging into the more lucrative profession of politics. But spreading knowledge was his motto, so he settled down in Cuttack which was the cultural epicenter, a happening place Odisha at that time, the state's capital and a counterpart of our present day Bhubaneswar. To give him company was his frugal possession of a 1 Rupee note (bill), a cotton shirt, a MASINA (plain mattress) and his most prized material - An array of books.

He never pursued formal education, nor thrived for a degree which could have landed him a decent job those days. A la the famous dropouts Bill Gates, Steve Jobs or Mark Zuckerberg, he went above and beyond doing a job. He wanted to do something more contributory and beneficial to the society.

So he started writing GYANA MANDALA or an Encyclopedia in January, 1954 - a first of its kind in Odia and in Odisha. It took him six long years to collect, compile and present all the necessary information in an age when forget Internet and Google, electricity was strictly fantasy and out of reach for a rural centric Odisha. On December 2, 1960 his baby - PRATHAMA SANSKALANA or the first edition the first ever Odia encyclopedia was born.

Winner of the Odia Sahitya (literature) Academy awards and Civilian Award Padmashree, he carved his niche before passing away in June, 1990 - the same month he was born at the age of 78. May Odisha produce more pioneers like him. Happy 114th to the creator of the first Encyclopedia in Odisha.

Ides of June

The first week of June also reminds me of couple of events of far reaching consequences. One is the Operation Blue Star, which happened this week exactly 42 years ago in the year 1984. The Congress party which perfected the art of mishandling crisis (Bangladesh war of 1971 being the exception), completely blew the situation in Punjab at that time out of proportion by catapulting Bhindranwale, a Sikh with a flowing beard and aquiline nose from a small time preacher into a big time martyr. (BJP is fast catching up with Congress in mishandling issues - the longer is its tenure in power, the more screw ups are in making. But that's a different story for a different day). 

As Khushwant Singh mentioned in his autobiography, Giani Zail Singh, India's ex Home Minister and President famously described Bhindranwale as SADDE DANDA or "our stick" to beat the Akalis with. Congress party wanted to use him as an useful idiot to settle score against its Akali opponents. Eventually the so called useful idiot became a genie escaped from the bottle and the DANDA became a huge stick to cause pain to Congress and the nation's butt.

Bhindranwale's myth still lives on. It's not unusual to find T-shirts figuring his turbaned head and cassettes containing his speech in parts of Punjab, especially in the rural areas. His simple but powerful one liners like 'JO DARTA WOH SIKH NAHI AUR JO SIKH HAI WOH DARTA NAHI' (one who fears is not a Sikh, one who is a Sikh never fears) caught the imagination of the Sikh youth of that generation.

The violence and senseless killings reached its peak in the late 1980s when the Punjab problem seemed beyond solution. I met an Odia guy, who was lucky to survice one such attacks in JCT Mills, Phagwara. One night, a bunch of terrorists entered the plant compound and quickly wrapped up those from outside of Punjab they could get their hands on. Then they forced them to stand in a line and shot them randomly. But
before doing their cold blooded target practice, those heartless folks took some time to play with their victims who were crying and begging for their lives.

Our Odia guy was standing in a dark corner. In the commotion, he decided to take his chances. He slowly stepped backwards, jumped off a wall and ran away, luckily surviving the volley of bullets sent after him. The darkness and his luck saved him. He just ran away and next morning (Night time bus services were banned in Punjab those days) he left Punjab once and forever, determined not to return ever again. His story sent chills down my spine.

Sending out the Army into the Golden Temple to flush out terrorists was akin to bringing down a house to get rid of rat menace. Operation Blue Star on 4th June had its series of consequences. Prime Minister Indira Gandhi was assassinated by her own Sikh bodyguards not long after the operation to flush out terrorists from Golden Temple. Khushwant Singh who once used to be close to her family, especially to her younger son Sanjay Gandhi, but later fell out of her favor after Sanjay's death in an air crash, still wanted to visit her home to pay his last respect, in spite of their estrangement. When he was about to leave he got a call from a well wisher - "Sardarjee (as Sikhs are addressed), have you lost your mind by any chance ? Don't ever dare going out now. The goons of Congress are dragging Sikhs out of vehicles, roasting them alive. They are going to make a Sikh Kabaab (barbecue) out of you". 

Indira Gandhi's death was followed by killing of many innocent Sikhs who were butchered by hired Congress goons. The Sikhs retaliated by killing many innocent Hindus in Punjab as the terrorism continued for many more years to come.The other event in June is the 37th Anniversary of the Tiananman Square massacre in China. The famous picture from the 1st week of June 1989, of the lone young man standing bravely in front of a Tank carries a lot of connotations.

It is an image of defiance and a strong desire for freedom by the contemporary youth. Sadly the Chinese government effectively quashed the freedom movement. The movement became dormant, but is far from dead. Quarter of a century later in that nation well connected with microbloggers it's sitting on a tinterbox who knows one day could implode any moment. History could be made any time. One never knows. So beware of the Ides of June !

FATURANANDA - the forgetten Odia writer

 He is a fellow Gemini like me. I doubt many from current generation would remember him today. A talented but underrated writer he was born on this day more than a century ago in Odisha. He possessed the typical traits of a Geminian, being an excellent communicator and artistically inclined since childhood. His real name was Rama Chandra Mishra, but went by his pen name FATURANANDA - a writer of Odia short short stories who has physically blind.

Born in Jhanjhirmangala, Cuttack he was a non conformist and his writing mostly satirical. He suffered from a disease during his childhood which took out his eyesight. Growing in an era when Odia literature was not appreciated a whole lot, nor could buy a decent, comfortable living - he vented his frustration and cynicism in his writing using satire as a weapon. His language was lucid with a unique flow, his black humor and sheer poignance driving the images of his characters. 

Faturananda's description in minute details of the ethos and pathos of life was amazing - especially of the human feelings. He was very young when he lost his eyesight, so could never fell in love at firstsight. He described the feeling of love in his unique way, the way a blind man sees it - "PETA RU GOTE GARAM PABAN BAHARI CHHATI KU KUTU KUTU KALA PARI ABHINGAYA" (Love is the feeling of a warm air emanating from the stomach and tickling your heart). I fell in love with that expression of a person who could see his feelings which he was unable to see through his eyes.

In one of his short stories, a talented but failed painter was surprised at the sudden adulation in his art gallery. He painted a portrait of BUDHHA DEBA (Lord Goutam Buddha). But suddenly he noticed some changes on his painting. Without his knowledge, the night before his infant son played with the paint brush, crisis crossing Lord Buddha's painting with his playful hue straight out of his shit. A connoisseur of art interpreted the brownish shit coated portrait as BUDDHA DEBA (a Gentle God) turning into KRUDHA DEBA (An Angry God) and its aroma depicting the non-violence protagonist Buddha's disgust at the prevalent go of the world. The poor and struggling arist got a hefty price when that painting was auctioned, least knowing that the credit should goes to his child's fresh shit on his canvas.

There is this story behind his unusual pen name FATURANANDA. Every evening he and his friends used to gather together (called GULLI KHATTI or light hearted chatting in local parlance) inside a dilapited room of a local Club in Cuttack. In one such Gulli Khatti gatherings everyone was asked to give a nickname to the other guy ending with the word "Nanda". The participants gave each other a name like Prema (love) - Nanda, Dharma (righteous) - Nanda, Dhana (wealth) - Nanda, depending on their proficiency in love, spirituality and wealth. Nobody could coin the appropriate name for him, so he came up with FATURANANDA - which basically means nothing. But the name stuck to him and he used it as his pen name. 

His Biography "MO PHUTA DANGA RA KAHANI" (The story of my punctured Boat) was a bare all of the morbid milieu and his struggle in a feudal, poverty stricken Odia society of the time known to be a graveyard for any kind of creative pursuit. I believe he was the proverbial "BANA MALLI BANA RE JHADI JAE" - "Jasmin flower in the forest falls off without its fragrance ever getting noticed".

Mortal man with immortal contribution. My two cent of tribute on his 111th birthday - to the man who is one of many talented Odias ignored by the sands of time, hoping it inspires the current generation and many more generations to come.

American vs Indian (British) Format

 Am sure those who travel to India from USA must have encountered this situation. Foremost is the driving on the left side with the driving wheel on right side of the vehicles. It always baffles my son when he travels to India, so also the electrical switches in India working reversely.

During my India trips, especially on the initial days after my arrival, I have opened the door on the driver's side of car by mistake to invite a hearty laughter, sometimes a muffled giggle if the person observing my plight chose not to be impolite. Using mobile instead of cell phone is another one. I always feel the mobile sounds more appropriate as you are immobile without a mobile phone these days. Once I left my house without a mobile and felt that as I have left my liver behind akin to the wise monkey (of PANCHATANTRA fame) who faked to his Crocodile friend that he left his liver behind when the giant lizard wanted to eat his simian buddy's sweet liver in the middle of the river. It was a sweet relief for me when I got my cellphone (oops Mobile) back - the feeling was no less sweeter than the elusive sweet liver of monkey cherished by the greedy Crocodile.

Writing dates is another area where I stumble. June 12th, I write as 06-14  in America (which would be rather 6th December in India). That is because dates are written in DD-MM-YYYY format in India, a British legacy while in America it is MM-DD-YYYY format. Inadvertently I have wasted several checks for writing wrong dates on them. A simple mistake like this in a bank can cost you an additional unwarranted trip to go back to the line (it is Queue in India) and wait for minutes before your turn.

In India my son mentally convert temperature from Centigrade to Fahrenheit to get a hang of the heat, similarly convert kilometers to miles to make out the distance. For me it doesn't matter so much as I am more familiar with MKS (Meter Kilogram Second) system than my son. When I came to US, I was doing exactly the opposite, converting from FPS (Foot Pound Second) to MKS. Living in America for 30 years now, I am pretty much familiar with the FPS system.

Weather is a favourite topic of discussion in America. Many conversations commence discussing about the current weather situation.
A typical American husband when returns home from work addresses his wife, "Honey what's for the dinner and how is the weather ?" Talking about weather is very much ingrained as part and parcel of American life.

During my initial days in America when my coworkers talked of temperature being in 70s, 80s, 90s and so on, my first thought was that they were talking about years like 70s for the 1970s, 80s for 1980s etc. Eventually I came to know that they are talking about the temperature in Fahrenheit. One afternoon when temperature reached 90 degrees Fahrenheit (32°Centigrade) in Philadelphia, heat was the talk of the town. I had to mentally convert from Fahrenheit to Centigrade to get a hang of the heat, similarly convert miles to kilometers to make out the distance. 

Another contrast I experienced while driving years ago from Seattle to Vancouver. No sooner we crossed the US border and entered into Canada, than the speed limit changed from 65 mph to 110 kmph. My first thought was Canadians drive at a greater speed until I realized the change in the Unit of measurement. 
Now 30 years down the road when I go to India part of the reverse cultural shock I get is to convert from metric to FPS (Foot Pound System) though it's not too hard to calculate. For me life has come to a full circle, same way you rotate the Globe a full circle you see India and US on the opposite sides. 

Several years ago I was on a flight to Las Vegas. An American couple in front of me were struggling to convert from Centigrade to Fahrenheit. I did it for them in seconds using the classic formula C/5 = (F-32)/9. "Oh, you are a genius" - out poured their impromptu compliment. As if they encountered a Math wizard. I enjoyed my two minutes of fame.

You call Rose by any different name it's perfume remains the same. You call it 100 degree Fahrenheit, or 38 degree centigrade the heat feels the same. 100 miles is no less than 160 km. If what's in a name, then what's in an Unit ? The whole world has switched to Metric system, well except America and Britain. They are the only ones I believe who still use foot and pound as measuring units.  Apart from the English language this is probably the only thing the Americans retained from their one time occupiers whom they drove away and gained their independence. Otherwise, the unfollowed everything British - they drive on the right side of the road, electric switches are opposite, they use date in MM-DD-YY format and many more. 

Birthday 2026

 Thanks everyone for your wonderful birthday wishes. Completely flabbergasted, floored and flattered, pleasantly overwhelmed by multiple number of birthday wishes on social media and still counting. Thanks for those being so creative to create a story for me on Facebook for this occasion. I can only write crap, can't be creative like you all.

Not much of a milestone commemorative type of person, for me my birthday and marriage anniversary is just another day. This year's birthday was no exception. On top of that, on a sombre note it came at a time close to the anniversary of my mother's passing away couple of years ago. It will be my 3rd birthday without her to whom I owe my existence. She would invariably be the first person to call and wish me, reminiscing about that very day more than half a century ago. Her is the wish I am going to miss forever for the rest of my life. 

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. Apart from getting along with all star signs, Geminians get the best along with Librans and Aquarians. 

On a lighter note Geminians tend to be popular among the opposite sex, the famous Geminian examples are John F Kennedy, my teenage crush Brooke Shields, Clint Eastwood, Marilyn Monroe, Angelina Jolie, Donald Trump, Steffi Graf just 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). Being a girl shy person, I am probably an exception to this very Geminian rule.

During my childhood, on our birthdays my mom would pray and cook KHEER (a sweet dish) for us siblings. 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. DINK (Double Income No Kids) and DITK (Double Income Two Kids) is the new normal, prominently proclaimed by 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 50th BIRTHDAY". Half dozen teammates barged in, singing an impromptu Happy B'day song. A cake was cut. I had my few minutes of celebrity fame. They gave me a funny card signed with something like "Why Men Turn Naughty After Fifty" printed on it. (Americans make a lot of fuss about celebrating birthdays, annivarsariew and graduations, liberally punching them with dosages of humor. We in India are catching up fast). 

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 50 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. As my mother wasn't there to wish me, for her wish was the one I always long for and I still can hear her wish from heaven. Let me yet again repeat this stanza from the famous Mukesh song in movie "MERA NAAM JOKER" dedicated to her :

"CHAHE KAHI BHI TUM RAHO,
CHAHENGE TUM KO UMR BHAR
TUM KO NA BHOOL PAENGE".. 

Roughly transliterated... 

"Wherever you are going to live,
I will long for you all my life,
Shall Never be able to forget you"....

Cockroach Janata Party

 India's Cockroach Janata Party began as a joke in response to comments made by Supreme Court Justice Surya Kant, who compared some young people and critics of institutions to “cockroaches” and “parasites.” His insensitive statement - “There are youngsters like cockroaches, who don’t get any employment or have any place in the profession,” Kant said. Coincidentally in short form its CJP, which sounds like BJP rhyming with it.

Regardless, the Justice's action had its unintentional consequences. His remarks quickly ricocheted across social media, drawing criticism and meme-making in equal measure. Kant later said he had not intended to insult young people and that his comments were directed at individuals with fraudulent degrees.
But it was too little, too late. As we say in Odia - "NEDI GUDA KAHUNI KU BOHI JAI THILA", meaning the jaggery on the palm had already reached the elbow. It simply meant, his regret came too late. By then, the internet had already done what it does best. On Instagram, the movement has amassed roughly 19 million followers — more than double the number for the BJP,  which has approximately 9 millions.

One thing happened for sure. Apparently it made BJP and its supporters nervous, which tells us that irrespective of all these bravado the right wingers are essentially a bunch of  nincompoomps filled with inferiority complex and insecurity. BJP and its famed IT Cell is doing everything to discredit this movement by trying to block 🚫 it on social media, blaming the movement being funded by George Soros to Pakistan, US to Bangladesh. If Soros and Pakistan are able to do all this, then what's our secret service is doing ? Our NSA, Doval 007 should throw away his dark glasses and should be sacked immediately for his inability to see this coming.

It reminds me of the heyday of Congress party when Indira Gandhi blamed every ill plaguing India on the ubiquitous foreign hand, alluding to the CIA. People bought them, people buying its now too. History is repeating itself in India. It clearly says that despite being a $4 trillion economy, not every thing is hunky dory in India as this movement is a reflection of the discontent amongst the youth due to lack of opportunities and rising inequality. Not every thing can be brushed under the carpet citing fake nationalism, jingoism and foreign hand. Problems are genuinely internal. 

The current millieu is akin to all sitting inside a room filled with inflammable gas with someone waiting to light a matchstick iIt's high time the Modi/BJP led government do a reality check, do something decisive than get defensive. They better be aware - Cockroach has a lot of resilience and tenacity,  it is the only animal which is capable of surviving a nuclear warfare. Current BJP disposition is nothing !

My fascination with snakes

 As summer rolls in when Spring in its last throe, occasionally see snakes slithering away in my backyard. Most of them are southern racers and rat snakes. They are harmless and non venomous. As weather warms up, the reptiles come out of hibernation. When it rains I can hear a lot of frogs croaking in my backyard and it probably brings out the snakes to complete their food chain.

Snakes have always fascinated me. There are so many myths related to them. They don't drink milk, contrary to the belief of many in India. In fact, milk can damage their digestive track. They swallow their victims whole from tip to toe. Their fangs aren't used to chew, rather attack and paralyze their pray by injecting venom. A snake contrary to the belief of traveling at speed of a galloping horse can only slither maximum at 6 - 8 miles per hour, the fastest one being Black Mamba which can reach a speed of 10-12 mph. In Georgia its illegal to kill non venomous snakes. Nevertheless, they keep nature's balance by eating rhodents.

India is a land of wide variety of snakes, from sluggish pit vipers like Russell viper to the fast and furious King Cobra, one of the most venomous serpents on earth. I always confused the two common varieties of Cobras found in my home state back home Odisha in general and South East Asia in particular - "NAGA and TAMPA". NAGA is called Spectacled Cobra for its KATHAU (in Odia meaning wooden sandals) mark behind its hood which resembles two glasses of a pair of spectacle. It is mostly yellowish - brown in color. When it raises its hood, the two circular marks behind its back resemble spectacles sans frame are clearly visible.

In contrast, its cousin TAMPA is called Monocled Cobra. Its single circular spot conspicuously visible on its back. It is generally gray or brown in color which is known to fade away as the snake grows older. The monocled Cobra is more aquatic, prefers to be around the paddy fields and ponds, slithering inside the holes at the base of small embankments (called HIDA in Odia) separating the paddy fields and near the ponds, making them its abode as it finds plenty of food in the form of frogs and rhodents like mice in the surrounding areas.

Because of its shrill hiss, the monocled cobra or TAMPA is thought to be very aggressive in nature. There is this popular urban (rather rural) legend in Odisha about the ADHEI KIARIA TAMPA, or the 2 and 1/2 paddy field chasing monocled Cobra. It is rumored that it chases its victim until a distance of 2 and 1/2 paddy fields. If a man outruns the snake till that distance, the snake gives up the chase to man's safety.

Chasing 2 and 1/2 plots of paddy fields is nothing but a figment of imagination. A la any other snake, the monocled cobra is rather shy and elusive in nature. It hisses or bites when feels threatened and gets defensive or hunts for food. Far from being faster than any glalloping horse, a snake's maximum speed on ground is no more than 6 miles (10km) per hour and this cobra is no different.

Though snakes have poor eyesight, they have a tremendous sense of movement. The Jackals, being intelligent animal puts its tail inside the holes near the paddy fields and the pond to catch crabs. No sooner than a crab latches on to a jackals tail, it pulls it out of the hole to have its meal. But sometimes the jackle is bitten by the monocled cobra occupying those holes. The neuotoxic poison has its effect, as the jackel becomes mad, miserably whines around and dies within couple of days. 

As a fitting finale to my blog on Cobras - it will be incomplete without the mentioning the King of Cobras, aptly named as AHIRAAJ or King Cobra. It is known to be 12-15 feet long, sometime reaching 18 feet. When aggressive this majestic snake can stand as tall as 5 to 6 feet, staring at a person's eyes. It feeds on larger rhodents and its smaller cousins, other varieties of snakes like rat snakes, even cobras. The venom injected by an adult king Cobra is enough to kill 20 humans and can cut down a full grown elephant.

Odisha, my home state back home is rich in widelife and uniquely endowed with variety of snakes, including these 3 exotic varieties of NAGA, TAMPA and AHIRAAJ as the icing on the cake. It also has Russell's Virus (Boda) and Common Krait (Rana), both extremely venomous. Come rainy season, a lot of folks back home die from snake bites. That's because in many cases the locals delay taking the victim to the hospital and waste time taking help from quacks which hardly helps. Yet the majority of the snakes are non venomous. Let's protect this species rather than indiscriminately killing them, as they are important part of maintaining nature's balance.

Sabitri 2026

 Today is the festival of SABITRI which is mostly exclusive to Odisha (there could be slightly different versions elsewhere, but it's kind of unique to Odisha). It is widely celebrated on the New Moon day of the Lunar month of JYESHTA, which per Gregorian calendar comes in May-June time frame every year (it is to be noted that the Hindu festivals are celebrated per Lunar Calendar). 

On this day married women pray for 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 his nap.

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 seasonal tropical fruits like Mango, Banana, Jackfruit, Lichi, Guava, Date, Palm and Pinapple. Now a days non native European origin 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. Odisha has its tryst with Jackfruit trees, from its jungles to the residential lots filled with Jackfruit trees and it is not unusual for this large size fruits cluster around the bottom of the tree, protruding from tree trunks like the sagging fat of a Sumo wrestler. Bears and Jackles who get attracted by its strong smell love to feast on these gargantuan sized fruits, the largest size fruit grown on tree on earth.

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 taking advantage of the festival. Glad I don't face same situation here in USA as the prices of fruits are no different from any other day. For few years there was low key celebration of Sabitri due the nationwide lockdown imposed as a preventive measure against Covid pandemic. But it's back to normal.

This year, Sabitri falls on a weekend. When my Sabitri is too tired to cook dinner for me, the SATYABAN won'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 2026

 A song from Amitabh Bachchan's blockbuster movie "KHUDDAR" released in the year 1982 where the tall actor, the unquestioned Superstar, the King and the one man Bollywood industry of the time sings onscreen this Kishore Kumar's song - 

"MAA KA PYAAR, BEHAN KYA PYAAR,
KABHI KABHI DULHAN KYA PYAR,
TERE PYAAR KA RANG HAZAAR". 

Roughly transliterated... 

"Mother's love, Sister's love,
Sometimes the love of the beloved,
Their love comes in thousand colors". 

Mother's day this year reminded me of this song from my teenage years. The love of mother is in its genuine form - pure, precious, unadulterated, like the clear Spring water bubbling out of the top of a glacial mountain. It is perennially pristine, unequivocally soothing, unwavering and unflinching. When I used to India, my mother's hug and caressing hands felt so soothing, the touch I long for days, months and sometimes years. Mother's love is panacea to all ills plaguing mind and body, heart and soul. Unfortunately she is no more and I am yet to get over the loss and probably never will. No wonder the vacuum from the loss of mother couple of years ago still haunts me. The lacunae in my heart remaining  unfilled. 

Few years back around this time of the year when I spoke to my mother in India, I told her that the heavy rains that spring 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 her concerned tone 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 do same to our fathers) I said - "Mummy, we all know Lord Siva has a stranglehold over Indian 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 PODA MUHA (Burnt Face) "Rattle SAAPA (snake)". The depth of her love was 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 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 filled. 

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 in front of her in-laws for feeding their son well. On the other hand a slim, trim husband can earn the wrath of the mother-in-law for not feeding her son enough). 

She used to advise me - "BARSA RE ODA HABUNI, THANDA DHARIBA" - Don't get drenched in the rain, lest you catch a cold. If she ever found out that I have a fever, she would advise me to eat Apples and LUNI BISCUIT (Saltine crackers, similar to the RITZ crackers, popularly consumed during fever during my childhood as it titillates numbed taste buds) and eat PAUNRUTI (sliced bread) dipped in warm milk. She still treated me like a 10 year old. Though I am way past that and in the middle of my middle age, her love was unwavering and eternal. No matter how far I am from her, her love and concern for me never ever ebbed. I had complete faith on her devotion. Now that I have outsourced my well being to her I could 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 adult humans 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 !!!

First Anniversary of Operation Sindoor

 Close to the first anniversary of Operation Sindoor, the name given to India's strike on Pakistan in response to the latter's terror attack in Kashmir, India's defense minister Rajnath Singh said “We stopped the Operation voluntarily, on our own terms".

If so, why was the ceasefire announced not by India but by Trump ? India reiterated Trump's announcement after an hour the US President proclaimed it on Truth Social, repeating his claim time and again taking credit for stopping the war between two nuclear power neighbors. So far India has never contradicted Trump.

It was followed by Modi telling our Parliament last July that India achieved its objectives by attacking terrorist camps across the border. Such a claim by striking largely empty terrorist training camps reeks with strategic naiveté. Timing is an essential element of any war. After the Pahalgam terrorist massacre, India waited for 15 days before launching the short-lived May 7–10 Operation Sindoor, giving Pakistan ample time to disperse assets and empty key camps with the surprise element thrown through the roof. No high value terrorist was eliminated. If a few terrorists perished such state reared figures are expendable, easily replaced through thevast Madrassah networks inside Pakistan. How then were India’s strategic objectives served by targeting only low-level proxies?

Operation Sindoor was a tactical success for India, but a strategic failure, one that left Pakistan emboldened. The cessation of hostilities after just three days helped to rehabilitate Pakistan’s international standing, particularly in USA and Islamic world, where it was seen as having held its own against a much stronger adversary. That perception proved consequential, contributing to the emergence of the Saudi-Pakistan mutual defense pact and Trump’s embrace of Pakistan. Turkey and Azerbaijan came out in open support of Pakistan which ended up driving its narrative.
Truth is the first casualty of war. In spite of giving a bloody nose to our western neighbor, India had lost few fighter Aircrafts including the much fancied Rafael which costs $245 million a piece. Pakistan too possesses Nuclear and Missile technology. Forget building missiles, Pakistan, a basket case of poverty cannot even manufacture a Diwali rocket on its own. So, how it managed to acquired these ?
The answer is China for whom Pakistan is the cheapest way to keep India, its only nuclear adversary at bay. Pakistan has done a good job doing China's bid. The Middle Kingdom and Asia's rising giant doesn't consider India as its equal and often mocks at it. The best example if so many videos and reels on social media mocking India and praising their all time ally (in reality their slave) Pakistan which went viral during the days of OperationSindoor.

After the ceasefire was announced, a bunch of our Netas and Babus dispersed around the world with the goal of painting Pakistan as a pariah state and a sponsor of terror. Forget about convincing the world powers, except Sashi Tharoor no one could articulate well India’s position. Looking in a holistic way, Pakistan is not only important to USA, it is important to many other countries as well, including our all weather friend Russia for various strategic reasons, simply because of its very geographic region and it having nuclear weapons.

However brilliant our Foreign policy may be, when push comes to shove, as we saw during Operation Sindoor, the rest of the world mostly remained neutral. China, Turkey, Azerbaijan (it hardly matters anyway) sided with Pakistan - overtly or covertly. For their own selfish reasons the world powers who matter will continue to hyphenate between India-Pakistan in unforeseen future for some time to come. Foreign policy is filled with hypocrisy and double standards. It always was, will continue to be the same.

The comfort of Air Conditioning

News from home galore about the ongoing brutal summer in India with mercury touching 45°C (115°F) in many places, a notch higher than normal at this time of the year. We just entered into the month of May, it's still a long way to go for Indian summer to end. A friend in need is a friend indeed. At this juncture no one is a better friend than the Air Conditioning, more popularly known as AC, thanks to a 25-year-old engineer from New York named Willis Carrier who invented the first modern air-conditioning. The mechanical unit, which sent air through water-cooled coils, was not aimed at human comfort, rather designed to control humidity in the printing plant where he worked. But down the road it became too ubiquitous and attached to comfort, more of a necessity than luxury these days.

Recently I spoke to my father who lives in Bhubaneswar. He apprised me of the current unprecedented heat wave the city in particular and the state of Odisha in general, confided to me of confined to AC rooms as open windows intended for cross air ventilation only brings in lava laced air meandering through the concrete jungle. Never ever in his life he was so much dependent on the AirConditioning. In between occasional power cut is making it worse.  When the Electricity comes back jump-starting the Air Conditioning, its whirring sound sounds like music to his ears.
We are too much conditioned to Air Conditioning these days. In USA, especially in South it can get hot and muggy during the summer. When faced with similar situation during my growing up days in India when the outside air was much hotter and more humid, I didn't run to the comfort of AC - because like most from my generation we didn't have AC in our home. Now every middle class household has at least one wall mounted Air Conditioning installed in their home.
I rarely felt the pang of heat, even during the hottest of summers in India. My generation in India grew up at a time when AC was a luxury. The weather was a lot salubrious then. For me exposure to AC was limited to its cooling comfort wafting inside the Computer Lab in NIT (then REC), Rourkela during my student life. Only two places in REC Campus had AC those days - Principal's office and the computer center. The first was out of bounds for us. But come April, we were smart enough to spend many afternoons inside the computer center sitting in front of the Vax 11/780 dumb terminals. Wasn't so lucky in Bhubaneswar where only a few restaurants and movie theatres had AC, who regularly cut corners to save money by switching it off now and then. The owners cheated their hapless customers of Air Conditioning by robbing them of comfort, easily taking them for a ride.

Urbanization and rapid growth of concrete jungles has made our cities hotter than before, but over dependence on AC makes us feel and complain more about the heat. As the saying goes in Odia - MANISHA SABUTHARU BADA SUBIDHA BAADI PRANI (Humans are creatures of comfort). Now that I have the comfort of AC, every now and then I look forward to it. Without access to it, I would adjust to the environment, vindicating Darwin's theory of the survivor of the fittest. Humans being intelligent animals readily adjust to the situations and cicumstances. That's why we survived whereas the dinosaurs, mammoths and mammoth number of animals part of the fauna didn't.

Same applies to most from our parent's generation who grew up in villages. After living in the cities for decades they can barely spend more than half a day in their native villages which do not provide the same levels of comforts as cities do. My grandmother who lived more than two third of her life without electricity was so much addicted to AC that she wouldn't leave her room which was a cool 20 degrees cooler than the outside world. She was too tuned to AC and refused to visit her native village in summer where she lived lived happily the better part of her life.

During the World war II at time of relentless Nazi bombing on England the British Royal Air Force fought bravely against the air blitzkrieg of Germany's Luftwaffe. Winston Churchill, then the British Prime Minister said about Royal Air force - "Never in the History of mankind so many were dependent on so few", a tribute to contributions of a handful of pilots who stubbornly defended the entire English population from the Nazi onslaught. Same can be attributed to AC - never in the history so many humans were dependent on a devise. Let's spare a moment to be thankful to Willis Carrier, the inventor of Air Conditioning, after whom "Carrier", a popular brand of AC is named.

RIP Chinmay Mohapatra - Bobby

 He was my classmate in school and my friend. A very active individual filled with warmth and affection, a talented singer and a huge fan of Sanjay Dutt. Chinmay Mohapatra, who also happens to go by his nickname Bobby, lived his life to the fullest until he passed away yesterday.

It is a small world. Chinmay was the son of Mr. R.C. Mohapatra, our history teacher in my Alma mater D.M. School in Bhubaneswar and a colleague of my mother-in-law Mrs. Swarnalata Devi who incidentally passed away exactly a decade ago. Chinmay lived in Acharya Vihar, a stone's throw from my in-laws house, a walking distant from School. I wasn't so lucky, so had to commute to school in our school bus, though traffic wasn't too bad those days when the arteries of roads of Bhubaneswar weren't clogged yet, so no bypass was needed.

Chinmay used to sing Kishore Kumar numbers pretty well, though his favourites were songs from Sanjay Dutt movies, an upcoming actor during our growing up days. Always an active member of our School Orchestra team, he enthralled the audience with his energy and enthusiasm. Unforunately I missed his performances in School during our Higher Secondary (called +2) days as I shifted to B.J.B. College closer to my home.

We lost touch for a while before reconnecting just before my marriage. Well known to me as well as my in-laws family he attended both sides of our marriage reception. I starkly remember him at our marriage reception at "Pantha Nivas", Bhubaneswar proudly holding his foot long mobile (cell) phone, a new gadget in town those days - neighbors envy, owner's pride.

After I moved to USA, connectivity increased as the world shrank to a global village. Soon we were back in touch via email, followed by social media which opened the floodgate of communication. We met many times in our hometown Bhubaneswar during my frequent trips to India. Recently I heard about him not keeping well these days, but never expected him to leave so fast, so soon. The news of his untimely demise was stunning, came like a bolt from the blue.

As I finish writing my obituary, I am tersly reminded of this Hindi song, an ode to a nice human being whose repertoire of affection towards his family of friends was never empty.

ZINDAGI SAU BARAS KI SAHI,
ZINDAGI KA BHAROSA NAHI;
CHAAND CHHOOP JAE KAB KYA PATA,
CHANDNI KA BHAROSA NAHI.
Transliterated..
Life is for living hundred years,
But destiny is unreliable forever;
Never know when moon can go into hiding,
For Moonlight is not worth relying.

May God give strength to his family, his brother and my friend Satyajit to overcome grief in this torrid time. Be happy in heaven my friend. Om 🕉 Shanti.