Our obsession with America

 Are we an US obsessed nation ? If social media is to be seen and believed, it feels so. The amount of coverage given to America by our folks back home, especially since last year's Presidential elections is staggering. From what I can see, the obsession has doubled in past 5 years, ever since Trump's arrival in the political scene.

Every American Presidential election gets its fair share of coverage in India. But last year's election Trumped all - partly due to flamboyant nature of Trump's candidacy and character. The social media was flooded with posts followed by discussions. The Right wing conservatives in India found their ally in Trump and Republican party. It's another matter the American Conservatives care a shit about India.

The night after the day of US Elections I was fast asleep. In the wee hours my phone kept ringing. Drowsy after a long day I hesitantly received the call. At the other end I could hear the sad voice of a lad from our village - "BHAINA, KANA TRAWMPAW KU HAREI DELA - Brother, you defeated Trump" ? "But why do you care ?" - I asked in an intriguing tone. He retorted back - "BICHARAA HAARI GALA. NA HELE PAKISTAN UPARE BOMA PAKEI THANTA - The poor guy lost. Otherwise, he could have dropped a bomb on Pakistan". I replied dismissively - "Oh, Trump told you so ? That's good to know".

In meantime, there was a Presidential election that was held in Tanzania on October 28, less than a week before the US Elections. Outside their country, nobody cared, nobody bothered about their elections. Poor Tanzania !!!

A lot has since happened. Trump is gone from the White House and Biden is in. But the obsession hasn't gone, nor subsided. Recently I saw posts where followers of Modi predicting Modi and Trump both winning elections in 2024 and taking the world to next level. Oh Really ? Their terms coincided for four years from 2017 to 2021. To what level they took the world to in those four years and what magic they have to do wonders together in 2024 ! Here in America forget about juxtaposing him with Trump and hallucinating about a glorious global scene in 2020, hardly anybody is even aware of Modi.

When I point about this obsession, some get defensive - justifying it to having their nears and dears in USA to make them obsessed about America. That's a weird and flawed logic. We have far bigger Indian diaspora in Uganda, South Africa, Fiji and Guyana too who got their friends and families in India. In fact, they are much larger in numbers and constitute a sizable portion of the population of their respective countries. Yet we rarely discuss about them.

Another yardstick of obsession is the amount of attention an American President gets while visiting India which can make any global leader turn green with envy. Putin, Xi, leaders of Germany or Japan don't get anything close to what an Ametican president gets in India. Even the British Prime Minister, a country with whom India has lon, historical ties and a sizable Indian diaspora doesn't get 1/10th of the attention an Obama or Trump gets. On the other hand, Putin has stood with India multiple times whereas the US Presidents have hardly done anything beyond lip service.

Why this obsession ? Is it due to Pax Americana ? People tend to look up to others who they perceive up in the higher echelon. For example - I know Modi and Rahul Gandhi. I am sure neither of them knows me, nor care to know about me. 

Obsession, like love or hate is a human emotion. It has its own reasons. As Somerset Maugham wrote, love is  strongest when it's unreasonable (so also its opposite hate). On a different but good note, there is a decrease in our obsession towards Pakistan in the last few years. And that's not a bad thing at all. Part of the reason - we are surging ahead of Pakistan, not just in economy but in cricket and hockey in which they dominated us for decades. We feel we are better off them, so no need for obsession.

The Storming of Capitol Hill

 Recent storming of the Capitol Hill, the citadel of US Senate and House of Representatives located in Washington DC led by hundreds of Trump supporters was America's ultimate shame and disgress. The images on live TV of the marauding, fanatical followers of the about to be one term President on rampage were disturbing and can't be condoned. Obviously Trump added fuel to the fire by his incendiary remarks and his stubborn disrespect towards the rule of law following his loss in the 2020 Presidential elections.

The scene reminded me of a picture from Chapra, Bihar in India not long ago where friends and relatives of students sitting in a College Examination center were seen climbing the windows of the building, some hanging from the rooftop and windows, supplying copies (a term used in Odisha for the act of cheating by providing answers to exam questions). What I saw happening in badlands of Bihar was enacted in the heartland of America 🇺🇸 . United States was looking like a first world Bihar.

An incident like this was waiting to happen. The atmosphere was already surcharged, akin to a room filled with inflammable gas. All needed was for someone to light a matchstick. Trump exactly did that through his incendiary speeches and tweets. An under equipped and overwhelmed Capitol police force spectacularly failed to prevent the vandalism from happening inside the centre of American legislature. Luckily only a few lives were lost, though it could have been far worse.

I was not surprised and saw this coming from a long time. Of course Trump is to be blamed. Yet Donald J Trump is not the cause, rather the symptom of a larger disease plaguing America for a long time. It's analogous to our body getting a fever. The disease is not the fever itself but rather the cause of the fever - which could be due to a viral, bacterial or some other infection infecting our immune system which responds with a fever, raising the temperature and giving us an unsettling feeling. 

Similarly America has been plagued long time by various illnesses - economic, social, psychological and racism in the society. Rising inequality and Healthcare costs over the year has created a distinct class of have and have nots as middle class jobs are gradually vanishing due to automation and Corporate greed of preferring profit over people. 

Ironically most of this has been created due to policies of successive Republican administrations whose base are the ones who are the most impacted. Republicans are very much the part of the current problem, though Democrats who once upon a time used to be the champions of the American middle class have also let them down (That's why the traditionally Democratic Rust belt states voted for Trump in 2016). Idle mind is Devil's workshop. Loss of jobs have led to multiple social issues like broken families, alcohol and drug abuse. All these are taking a toll on those folks, their rising frustration transforming into violence and thuggery. They feel alienated from the society and country, easily vulnerable to crazy rumors and conspiracy theories.

I love Capitalism, but not the kind of unbridled Capitalism without checks and balances which benefits only the top, creamy later at the cost of the middle class. On top of that in last two decade there was a two term President in Barack Obama, rise in the minority population asserting their rights, followed by a woman candidate running for President in 2016.

It made a sizable section of population unhappy who felt the America they grew up is fast changing and getting snatched away from them. They want their America to be great again, looking for a leadership to fill the void. Trump sitting on the wings to enter into politics read it very well and tapped into it (no wonder he came up with his MAGA - Make America Great Again slogan). He not only won the 2016 elections against all odds, but also almost won 2020 - thanks to COVID-19 pandemic followed by a recession put a spanner in his reelection. A person who branded Republicans John McCain, a war hero and Mitt Romney as losers, found himself on the losing side. He obviously couldn't take his loss on his stride and kept living in his make believe alternate universe. So also his followers.

This violence has led to Trump been banned by Twitter and Facebook, inviting censorship for enticing violence. Facebook or Twitter is not someone's father's property which one can misuse in the name of freedom of speech. I can disagree with someone on social media. But it doesn't give me rights to abuse or troll or threaten someone with personal attacks. Trump is not an ordinary person whose threatening act doesn't have much effect. Trump is still the President of United States - the richest country in the World and a Superpower. His irresponsible, pugnacious acts needed to be curbed. Both Facebook and Twitter have taken the right decision by banning him. Hope he stays same in till January 20 when Biden takes over the reigns.

Happy new year 2021

 The antonym of "Happy New Year" would be "Unhappy Old Year". 2020 was exactly that - an old year now which made us all unhappy. Now the first post teen year of 2020 paves way for the year 2021 - a new year we wish it will make 2020 a forgettable one. While wishing so we step into it, we don't know what lies ahead, what's in store for us. As the old man 2020 bends his spine and extends his hand to open the door to welcome the New Year, it is now time for some introspection. 

The passing year 2020 will be forever be remembered for two several reasons - Coronavirus pandemic which killed millions, caused economic recession and impacted the US Presidential elections. For the first time since 1944, a Olympics wasn't held on the schedule year. And for the first time since 1992 an incumbent President lost his reelection.

A la getting rid off old cloths for the new ones, the soul moving from one body to another as famously extolled by Lord Sri Krishna in the BHAGWAT GITA and other Hindu Scriptues, 2020 will be reborn yet again at midnight tonight as 2021. The year dawns with the cherubic smile of a newborn, as another number is added to its age in the form of a New Year.

But hardly anything else ever changes for me with the arrival of a new year. For me life trudges ahead as the same shit, different day - with different color and texture. Hardly anything cataclysmically different happens, rather more or less the status quo is maintained. I don't make any New year promises to myself, as I don't and can't keep them anyway. I just roll over to the year ahead of me.

We may forget history but we don't forget to repeat it year after year. Similar to this starting stanza of the Kishore Kumar's song :

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

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

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

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

But I don't have to be nasty. So let me repeat the forgettable wish, as I do not forget to do at the end of every year - HAVE A WONDERFUL NEW YEAR ahead and stay blessed.

India All out for 36

 In the year 1974, India toured England in the first half of English summer. I lived in Liverpool, England for some time and very familiar with its freaky weather. It is not unusual to have cold spells during the summer in England, especially in its early part. But that year it was quite unusual - it was more like a cold spring than summer when the Indian team landed on the English soil on a 3 test series.

The tour was ill fated from the beginning. India lost the series 3-0, whitewashed. Ordinary bowlers like Chris Old and John Snow created havoc in India's batting line up. Gavaskar was probably the only batsman who stood up showing some grit filled resistance. 

Sunil Gavaskar has rated his 101 on a cold, blistery day in Old Trafford, Manchester on that tour as his best knock, well above his several double centuries. Our bowling attack those days, completely dependent on spinners who couldn't get their grip on the ball due to the cold conditions. English batsmen made our world class spinners look like ordinary club cricketers making a mincemeat out of them.

To add salt to the wound, India was bowled out for a paltry 42 runs at Lord's. I had an old copy of the magazine "Illustrated Weekly of India" (now defunct) at home where its cricket columnist Raju Bharatan published all the 10 black and white photos of our batsmen's dismissal.

Fast forward to 46 years later. All these years Cricket has gone through metamorphic changes. India is no more the cricketing world's minnows of 1970s. It is now a cricket powerhouse having all the money, power, influence over the game centered around it. West Indies, the unbeatable team of 1970s is now just another ordinary team on the cricket map.

Yet India couldn't defy history. History repeats itself and strikes at inopportune moments. Those who forget history are condemned to repeat it. Yesterday we created history, breaking that record set at Mecca of cricket in 1974 by getting dismissed for 36 runs, 6 runs less than the humiliating innings total under the Captainship of Ajit Wadekar. Emotional fans in Indian greeted Wadekar and the team mates with a shower of rotten eggs and sandals (a mode of humiliation in Indian subcontinent) upon their arrival at Bombay (it wasn't Mumbai yet) Airport. Glad there was no social media then - otherwise, they would have been trolled.

And trolled are now our players on media, social or otherwise after scoring 36 runs off pink ball in Adelaide losing all their 10 wickets, especially the director of the team Ravi Sastri who is toasted and roasted a la a burnt bread. Sastri is not new to this kind of treatment. During his playing days he was known to be a selfish player hell bent upon scoring runs at snail's pace at the cost of the country. His slow innings was blamed for several Indian defeats. At least one comes to my mind. When India lost to Australia in a crucial group game in 1992 World Cup held Down Under by just 1 run, Sastri's slow innings came under scanner. 

The ignominy then wasn't just limited to media. Across India Ravi Sastri's effigies were garlanded with CHAPPAL (sandals) and public made bonfire of them. It still remember a photograph from Sastri's hometown of Bombay where his name was painted on a donkey and the poor animal was garlanded with string of slippers. It doesn't take our mercurial fans to overreact. It doesn't take long for bricks to follow bouquets. It may happen yet again. An emotionally charged public may very well make an ass out of him - fanning a long stretch from the player Sastri of yesteryear to Director Sastri.

RIP Paolo Rossi

 This Italian will forever be remembered as the star of the 1982 World Cup Soccer who dashed the dream of the Brazil's dream team who was the favorite to win the Cup. The scorer of 6 goals in that World Cup, including his hat trick in the crucial game against Brazil which sealed the fate of the South American Samba team.

The Brazil's soccer team that year managed by the legendary Tele Santana who believed attack is the best method of defense. The star studded Brazilian team with the likes of Zico, Socrates, Falcao breezed into the quarters. The legendary Pele boasted "Playing like this we are going to win the Cup". 

That year, the number of nations qualifying for the World Cup was increased from 16 to 24. Quarterfinals was held in a league format with Argentina (with a promising 21 year old Maradona in their side), Brazil and Italy clubbed together in one group, with one team to qualify for the semifinals. It was dubbed as the group of death. Italy barely qualified to the Quarterfinals, finding itself in a group of previous World Cup Champions and the tournament's favorite team Brazil.

The Samba team defeated Argentina 3-1, Italy defeated Argentina 2-1. Brazil just needed a draw to qualify for the Semifinals and in full form, it seemed to be an easy task for the team.

But Paolo Rossi crashed the Brazilian dream with a hat trick as Italy narrowly won the match 3-2 and later went on to win the Cup. Clearly the marauding Brazilians let their defense down while focusing too much on blitzkrieg and paid the price. Believing too much on attack, the Brazilians left loopholes in their defense for Rossi to capitalize.

Rossi didn't stop there. He netted 2 goals against Poland in Semifinal and it final against Germany netted one more to take their team to an improbable win. He was Italy's national hero overnight.

As a 13 year old I remember following the matches on BBC Radio. There was no TV in Bhubaneswar at that time. Being a fan of Brazil, I was sad too. Many died of heart attack in Brazil and a few committed suicide due to this unexpected loss. 

And today's shocking loss was Paolo Rossi at the age of 64. December turning out to be a bad year for Soccer stars, as Brazil's Socrates the maverick player and a star of 1982 World Cup too died in the month of December. RIP, Paolo Rossi. You will be remembered as synonymous to the Azzuri's (Italian Soccer team) 1982 World Cup win.

RIP Binayak Mohapatra

 I remember him from the year 1976 when I arrived in Bhubaneswar as a 7 year old as my father got transferred to BJB College. We never left Bhubaneswar ever since, nor my memories of him. He was one year senior to me in school and lived next door in BJB Flats - an array of newly constructed three storeyed government quarters next to Lewis Road.

As he was my senior in school and more familiar to the local milieu my mother put faith on him, requested him to guide me while crossing the crowded Lewis road which used to get busy with the Puri and the Secretariate bound traffic during the peak school hours. Bhubaneswar was a sleepy township of salaried government employees. The main roads were mostly empty except during the commute hours of the office goers.

We were next door neighbors. He took good care of me, always fed me the sweetest of Guavas and BARA KOLI (tiny sweet and sour berries) from their backyard. As he was a better built lad and a year senior to me, the bullying kids avoided me. It didn't take long for my schoolmates to accept me as one of their own once I scored good marks in exams and got rid of my typical accent of Bhadrak, the town where I spent five years of my early childhood, long enough to catch the local accent. My classmates in Bhubaneswar laughed at me when I pronounced KODIE CHORA (Twenty thieves) as KOODIE CHOORA, putting a "Na" after words, e.g. KHAICHU NA, JAICHU NA. He laughed too, counselled me to restrain myself and not to get reactive when someone poked fun at me. Soon I got over it and my ubiquitous BHADRAKIA accent.

He was a good organizer and had leadership qualities. We used to play cricket and a local version of basketball where you put a stack of broken bricks, throw a ball at it to dismantle it, then put them back together before someone hurls and hits you with the ball. I was at best average in sports, he was amongst the best to earn the "captain" tag and call the shots at team selection before any crucial match with our adjacent gully opponents.

We used to celebrate Saraswati Puja, Ganesh Puja, Holi and Diwali together. Once a few weeks before Diwali he came with a creative idea of his own. He brought a tin box and made a tiny slot on top of it. We were instructed to put coins inside and save them to buy firecrackers for Diwali. To keep it safe, following his advice we dug up the ground and buried our safe box. On the morning of Diwali, we purchased fireworks with the saved money. I was afraid of sound making TALA PHOTAKA (firecracker made from palm leaves) but he wasn't. He used to take pride in bursting them standing a few feet away.

He wasn't afraid of anyone, but his father, who was a thorough gentleman but a strict dad. Even if he would be batting (a cherished moment for gully cricketers), no sooner he heard the typical sound of Mausa (his father's) Bajaj Chetak, than he threw his bat away and ran towards home. It's always a desperate race against time to sneak through backdoor. 

Mausa usually took his time to take off the helmet, elongate the folded stand of the scooter using his hind leg, park and lock it before turning the handle couple of times ensure that the lock is secured. That provides his son precious little time to be at his study table, pretending to be studying.

And studied he well. After completing his Intermediate Science he studied Engineering and came to USA 🇺🇸 to do further studies. Like the overwhelming majority of us who came to America not to return back, he made a choice to settle down here and had been living in Phoenix, Arizona for no less than a decade. 

Last Wednesday (December 2) morning he passed away, apparently from a massive cardiac arrest, leaving his wife and his 9 year old behind. Only 52, he had a long road ahead. The news was stunning beyond my belief as I felt something snapping inside me. When I heard his 9 year old son saying - "Don't you worry. I am a strong boy", drops of tears fogged my vision. BINAYAK (Bapi) MOHAPATRA, stay in peace in heaven, where you rightly belong. Om Shanti.

RIP Diego Maradona

 This 21 year old thin, tiny guy from Argentina was the new star in the horizon amongst the more established Brazilian, German and Italian stars like Zico, Socrates, Paolo Rossi in the 1982 World Cup Soccer being held in Spain. He was Diego Maradona.

Argentina the champion in the previous version missed to see Maradona in the World Cup held in their own soil as the coach thought at 17 he was too raw to play in a high profile tournament. But in 1979 FIFA Youth World Cup held in Japan, Maradona emerged as a star as Argentina won the cup defeating Soviet Union in the Finals.

In 1982 Maradona was no stranger to the world of soccer, having already carved his niche. The Quarterfinals was in a league format with Argentina, Brazil and Italy clubbed together in one group, the group of sudden death from which only one team can qualify for the semifinals. In the all important match, Brazil, the overwhelming favorite Samba team needed just a draw to qualify to the semis. But Argentina and Brazil, both lost to Italy which stopped their juggernaut, especially the fancied Brazil.

Maradona was a matured 25 year old and 1986 was His World Cup. I deliberately used (H in Caps) for His famous "Hand of God" goal which sealed England's chances in the Quarterfinals. Maradona scored a controversial goal against the English team, apparently touching the ball by his hand just before scoring the goal. The British press went berserk to which Maradona responded - "It was the hand of Diego (God)".

Arguably, apart from Pele, Maradona wearing his famous no. 10 Jersey when on a dribbling mode was unstoppable and dangerous proposition to any opponent. It also often made him victim to professional fouls to break their flow, causing frequent injuries.

He played in the next World Cup in 1990 when he took his team to the Finals again, before Argentina lost to Germany in a close encounter. I still remember a visibly crying Maradona at the end of the final, as he couldn't bear the loss of his team.

Maradona had an uneventful World Cup i in 1994 World Cup held in the United States, failing a drug test. He was always in the news ever since, mostly for wrong reasons with allegations of drug use and a messy married life. But he was still unstoppable on soccer front, working as a Manager. Death finally stopped him once and for all today. At 60, he still had yards to go. Rest in peace, Hand of God.