Chetan Bhagat's advisory to Congress

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Chetan Bhagat, the popular novelist, has emerged as a journalist of note. His pieces are often featured as leading articles in Times of India which is a widely circulated English language daily. Obviously he writes well and his writings carry lots of common sense. While his communicating skills are improving by the day one does remember that this very man, having written his first novel a few years ago, confessed that he did not know the English language very well.

Recently Bhagat wrote an advisory for the Indian National Congress regarding the way it should combat Modi and his BJP at the next General Elections in 2019. Suggesting as many as ten points that needed to be taken care of, Bhgat said that among them was a very vital point relating to Modi’s failures in achieving what he had promised while campaigning before the last elections. He thought if the Congress concentrated on this angle the battle would be more than half won.

According to Bhagat, it should be hard to counter a man like Modi who has worked hard and is certainly not corrupt. Though his plans schemes were well-intentioned he could not deliver on them. There are many areas where Modi has failed to deliver as much as he had promised during his campaign speeches. Among his failures are not silencing the divisive elements and/or allowing an environment where the countrymen do not feel free. Perhaps in saying that, Bhagat meant the progressive loss of the freedom of speech and expression. Bhagat adds that Modi has “choked the economy” and has been unable to create jobs. Besides, he has increasingly added to the tax burden of tax payers.

It is true that there is not much that can be said against Modi but what Bhagat has delineated are issues that are serious enough. The rising fear of intolerant behavior as was evident right through Modi’s tenure and especially during the recent “Padmavati” agitation is something which is dreadful. Never ever were threats like beheading of a producer of a mere cinematic film and cutting off of the nose of an actor in a film based on a story of a supposedly fictional queen were witnessed in this country. It was quite difficult to distinguish such discourses from those of Taliban or ISIS. These failures were more serious than those on the side of the economy as the economy could be made to pick itself up but the damage done to the psyche of people is irreparable.

The cow vigilantism and instant capital punishment for those who were suspected to have been carting beef also told heavily on the acceptability of Modi and his party. Consumption of beef is banned only in few states but the effort of all the vigilante groups was to impose it almost all over the country. These groups, as it were, took upon themselves to decide what one should eat, thus denying the freedom of the people at large to choose the food of their choice. Strangely, Modi’s reactions to these unchecked despicable instances of curtailment of freedom were tardy and not quite adequate.

Quite rightly, therefore, Bhagat has suggested to the Congress to concentrate on these failures that stand out in a country which not too long ago enjoyed greater freedom. At the same time, it should become incumbent on Modi to initiate steps that affirm the traditional pluralism of the country. We have been a pluralistic nation all through and everyone was free to hold his opinion, act according to his conscience and express his opinion in whichever way he wanted subject to its being in conformity with Constitution. Besides, the religious divide was seldom made use of. Even today stories are recounted where Hindus and Muslims work together in various industries contributing, of all the things, to each other’s religious festivals. A division on religious lines is not only a manufactured division, it would also seem to be artificial and, hence, ephemeral.

While the Congress will do well to use the failures of Modi as sticks to beat him and the BJP Modi also has to reassure the people about a safe and sure environment for people to live in and survive in the country. Time is running out for Modi with only 18 months available for initiation of remedial steps. This term was an opportunity for his party but quite wittingly it has blown it. This country can never be converted into a Hindu Rashtra as it is made of several different strains each thriving under an umbrella of an emancipated, magnanimous, humane and enlightened Hinduism.

Destinations :: New York (1998)

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Besides being called Big Apple New York has many other sobriquets. But, that is beside the point. During our stay of more than two months in the US we somehow happened to only transit through it. Having come to America and not visiting New York would seem to be denying oneself something quintessentially American. It is a great melting pot of various nationalities and sub-nationalities which live and work together to create a community as diverse as it could be, yet each exuding its unique cultural flavour.

On our way back home we spent some time in New York and took in the sights that it offers. Our booking was quite accidentally in Queens –

The two World Trade Centre towers were standing then

a borough where Asians are reported to demographically dominate. Queens is one of the five boroughs of New York, the others are Bronx, Brooklyn, Manhattan and Staten Island. Named after the Portuguese princess Catherine of Braganza and English Queen Elizabeth I the Borough of Queens is the largest in area of the five

From The Battery

boroughs and is also supposed to be hosting most diverse communities. Around 50% of its people are foreign born with the dominance of Asians. Our hotel was once again a branch of Best Western where the receptionist was a Pakistani. Even the taxi drivers were Pakistanis. Incidentally, the Arthur Ashe Stadium where US Open Tennis tournaments are played in Flushing is within the borough of Queens.

From The Battery again

On arrival back from Niagara we headed south for what is known as The Battery. It is also known as Battery Park. What, however is more interesting is that the place was known earlier as New Amsterdam because it was comprehensively overrun by Dutch immigrants. As the name suggests this was the area

Outside Guggenheim Museum

where artillery installations were erected to protect the settlement behind it from attacks from the sea. It is at the southern-most tip of Manhattan. As we were approaching it in New York Underground we got a bit frightened as the crowd progressively thinned out and we were all by ourselves in the compartment for quite some distance. The skyline on view from here was very interesting, numerous skyscrapers trying to scrape the heavens, as it were. These included the two towers of the World Trade Centre that were brought down in the 9/11 attacks. They are there in the picture taken from here.

We took a ferry to visit the Statue of Liberty in Bedloe’s Island (now called Liberty Island) – one of many islands around New York. It was

On the Museum Mile-outside the Metropolitan Museum of Art

evening and a cloudy day, the light was not perfect yet the statue was very impressive. Symbolising freedom and liberty for the oppressed it was fabricated In the freshly liberated France of 19^th Century and transported piece by piece in crates to New York to be assembled there. The pedestal was made in America.  The sculptor

Busy Times Square

Bartholdi, living in the oppressive French regime of Napoleon III was obsessed with freedom and hence is reported to have worked for years on the statue. Ferdinand de Lesseps of Suez Canal fame was also present at the dedication ceremony.

The green statue of a robed woman taking a step forward, as it were,

At Times Square

holding a glistening torch in a raised hand was a sight to behold. We didn’t have the time to scramble on to the platform but whatever we saw was unforgettable. It is a marvellous sculpture and the way the pieces add to the whole body is highly ingenious. Since it was cloudy we didn’t quite get its grandeur. Nonetheless, it must have been an inspiration for millions of immigrants who passed by to start their lives anew and to build their new homes in the New World. No wonder it symbolizes America – the land of liberty and freedom. Curiously, its installation did not beget liberty for millions of African Americans who continued to live and work as slaves.

At Rockefeller Centre

For want of time we had no intention of diving into a museum and get lost for hours yet we chose to walk down the tree-lined Museum Mile. This is a section of the famed Fifth Avenue where the rich and famous play around. The Avenue is full of expensive shops, high-end restaurants and hotels and starts from somewhere near Greenwich Village and partially runs northwards alongside another famous site – the Central Park of New York, ending

Rockefeller Centre again

near Harlem. The famous hotel Waldorf Astoria and one of the country’s tallest buildings, the Empire State Building, are located here as also the Rockefeller Centre. It is a major thoroughfare of New York falling in the borough of Manhattan. It is popular location for Hollywood movie-makers. I do not know how many movies I have seen in my younger days that were shot in this area.

We started off from that architectural marvel of Frank Lloyd Wright, the

At the Battery

Solomon R Guggenheim Museum. I had first seen it in a spread in the Square magazine even when I was in college, presumably when it was opened around late 1950s. It has always been peddled as one of the outstanding museum buildings anywhere in the world. Wright, it seems, had conceived the structure as early as 1943 but it took more than 15 years to realise his

From the observation deck of Empire State Building

dream. Its spiral ramp climbing up to its domed skylight has captured the imagination of its visitors. The spiral can also be imagined as you stand before it and see a solid band of what looks like concrete move up in a spiral. The Museum houses some of the most famous works of art by iconic legends of the artistic world.

Empire State Building outlined in neon on the groundfloor

There are a large number of museums in the vicinity. As we walked down we came across the New York Metropolitan Museum – a huge, more than a hundred years old building that houses every conceivable item from the world over. It is one of the most visited museums. It is the largest art museum in the United States. It contains works of art from ancient times to middle ages – of almost all the European masters.

But we couldn’t have gone into the Museum as we had to look at other

Quintessential New York

sites. Walking southwards we turned right into an opening the huge green stretch of the Central Park that looked far bigger than Hyde Park of London. While the latter was somewhat crowded when we saw it with children playing and people lolling around on the grass the former was more serene and quiet and perhaps much more green. As we entered the Park we saw a push-cart selling snacks. The man behind the pushcart looked Indian but when we talked to him

At the UN Hqrs.

he turned out to be a Bangladeshi. Apparently a recent arrival, he was still waiting for a steady job.

Exiting from the Central Park we entered the V Avenue again and stood at a bus stop to catch a ride to the Times Square. If one has to sample signage one has to go to Times Square located in Mid-Town Manhattan. It is a glittering place with massive illuminated billboards that frequently are animated. Awash with neon, the place blazes its way right into your consciousness. Thankfully the place is pedestrianised and one can take in the sights without the fear of being run over. Huge wall-sized monitors alive with colourful ads make it one of the most touristy sites of New York. Not one wall is seemingly devoid of a signage – still or animated. Hundreds of thousands of

At the UN Hqrs.

people visit it everyday. It is supposed to be Mecca for media companies. After all, it takes its name from New York Times when it started publishing from here more than hundred years ago. Being close to Broadway gives it an added advantage as Broadway is another place that has a large number of visitors and also is a tourists’ haunt. 

In the UN complex

We also took a packaged tour and it took us to the Empire State Building – an art-deco structure of 102 stories. Its height is more than 1400 ft. Built on the original site of Waldorf Astoria Hotel, it was thrown open in 1931. Named after the nickname of New York, Empire State, it was at one-time the tallest building of the world and now is only one of the tallest buildings in the United States. Its height went increasing during its construction as the competition with Chrysler Building hotted up. Eventually the Empire State Building came home with a few hundred feet to spare in height.

We were lifted up to the observation deck in high speed elevators. There are reportedly 70-odd elevators in the building, only some of which are high-speed, rushing up and down in the shafts at around 1000 ft. per minute. Once on the observation deck we found things familiar.

Times Square

We had had recently the experience of going up to the observation deck of Sears Tower in Chicago.  This one in the Empire State was no different – except that the skyscrapers in the surroundings appeared a little too smaller, almost like midgets. One could not see very much in the distance because of a haze but as one looked down below it was kind of surreal. All structures of Manhattan that would appear tall from ground level looked like midgets.

At Broadway

I had a good look at the Brooklyn Bridge while being driven up and down. It may not be as famous as the Golden Gate Bridge of San Francisco but it has a lot of character, having been built in the 19^th Century. Connecting Manhattan with Brooklyn it spans the East River. One of the oldest cable-stayed bridges, it was completed in 1883. The Tower Bridge of London was opened later in 1893 but it is much better looking and is a whole lot more iconic than the Brooklyn Bridge. It therefore does not stand for New York as the Golden Gate Bridge does for San Francisco.

It was time to leave for us. Regrettably, we had just a small slice of the Big Apple. We were leaving a great metropolis with a tinge of sorrow as we probably missed on many essentials of New York. But that is how it is

One more shot of Statue of Liberty

when one is out on a shoe-string tour – you see some and miss out on much more.Worse, it was most distressing to remember the predictions that this along with other cities may go under water as a victim of global warming. Ruminating over over all that I failed to sleep in a flight that was all through the night. But for me, looking out of the window towards the North daylight seemed to be accompanying me right through. Maybe, I thought, we were flying close to Greenland in one of those flight paths known as Great Circle.

Our Life, Our Times :: 16 :: Sleep-depriving noise

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Javed Akhtar, a script writer, a poet and a lyricist, an ex-MP and an intellectual has recently made a statement against the rising levels of decibels from places of worship. I, too fully agree and support him.

I have my own reasons. The urban centres are already very noisy and there does not seem to be any effort to control the excessive noise. I am an 80+ individual who has to suffer it right through the day and night and frequently the suffering is ­­­­­­­right through the week.

Living on the Ridge Road of the Idgah Hills at Bhopal nights and days are very seldom quiet. That the stray dog population has exponentially risen does not need any re-iteration. In our area they seem to be cooling off during the day and are out as soon as the sun goes down. Nights are for their dog-fights, snarling and barking away at intruders – human, bovine or canine. Some nights it goes on, seemingly, till eternity.

When peace and quiet appears to be imminent, out comes the aazhan popping out from loudspeakers from several mosques one at a time. Every mosque has its own time for aazhan and may differ from others by sheer minutes. There are many mosques in the vicinity and in the quiet of the dying night the loud speakers come loud and clear even from far-away mosques as they commence broadcasting one after the other.

Now that it is winter that is slowly retreating, it is still dark after the session of aazhans. But just when you start getting the much-denied sleep it is the aircraft flying low that shatter the chances of peace and tranquility for some rest and repose. They seemingly line up in the sky and start descending one by one just after day-break. Living right on their flight path we get the worst of the noise generated by their jet or turbo-prop engines. The post-dawn sleep too is also thus trashed.

These are the specific sources of noise that permeate during the most inconvenient hours. But there is a general low-density noise all through the day. Automobile horns, scooters being kicked for a start or a heavy motorcycles booming away or sundry noises like a mason using electric saws to cut marble slabs or a carpenter hammering away on nails in a flat in the block are noises that are ever present.

As the workers call it a day it is time for planes to home in again using the air space above us for their landing run in the evenings. And, then at least thrice in the evening loudspeakers blare out aazhan again calling the faithful for namaaz – the noise drowning even the the TV serial dialogues. And as we prepare to get some sleep the celebratory crackers start going off in this wedding season.  

It is indeed a noisy world. According to the Hindu system of “varnashram”, at my age I should have been in the forests living out an austere life waiting for the curtains to come down on me. But, no, there are no forests around to go to as those have been felled for that dreadful word “vikas”.  And whatever are now left to us are actually those where the burgeoning wildlife has been forced to migrate to from the so-called parks where they were boxed in. Those are no longer the forests where an oldie could try and spend peacefully his remaining few days. They are infested by predators which have spilt over from the game parks looking for fresh pastures and frequently make meals of a bovine or a hapless human. I any case, using a forest for a residence would be an anachronistic in this day and age.

Apparently, in today’s India the elderly have no alternative. They have to suffer the urban noises day and night unless the administration becomes gracious and empathises with them to stamp out, at least, the noises that can be stamped out. While the noise from aircraft cannot possibly be helped, no government in India has the guts to put a curb on the noises emanating from religious places. Besides, Maneka Gandhi being around, we have to co-exist with snarling, barking and quarrelling street dogs.

Ultimately, one has to reconcile with the fact that deliverance from this kind of torture will have to wait till our own day of deliverance and not before that.

*Photo from internet

From my scrapbook :: 6 :: Krishnan's crows

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Rama Chandra Guha, generally known as a historian but he is also a journalist, an environmentalist, a political commentator and a cricket historian, has compiled in a book (Penguin Books, M Krishnan & Indian Wildlife) the articles of Late M Krishnan who has been described as a writer, an ecological patriot, a naturalist and a photographer. The book is very aptly titled “Nature’s spokesman”. It contains some of Krishnan’s columns that came out around fifty years ago in newspapers and periodicals. He used to write for The Statesman, The Hindu and various other periodicals.

While growing up in Gwalior in the 1940s and 1950s we used to feast on his columns that would be featured in The Statesman. The columns would contain his impressions of Nature as he happened to come across it not only in the protected jungles across India but also the unprotected ones. He was a naturalist by choice and many of that era with even a little interest in Nature would remember his columns with tremendous amount of longing. Krishnan’s advantage was that not only did he have an abiding interest in Nature and its various expressions he could also give vent to his impressions in brilliant language which, of course, was English. He was a (reluctant) post graduate in English of those good old days when colleges and universities used to teach and impart knowledge.

I got Guha’s book from the dwindling collection of my eldest brother’s library from which a few thousands have been given away to the State MP Academy of Administration and the School of Good Governance at Bhopal. The book is by far very absorbing. Many of the observations of Krishnan are as humorous as they are interesting.

The book would seem to be a gem for naturalists who have been romping around Nature and go about watching the natural processes for pleasure or to record or photograph them. Krishnan had probably been to all the wildlife sanctuaries and the forests that were outside such protected areas in the country. But his interest in wildlife did not always take him away into the jungles. On many occasions his house and its backyard became the locale for his observations of household pests that make miserable the lives of ordinary mortals.

I cannot help sharing a few lines from the book’s chapter on urban birds. In it Krishnan had written feelingly about crows. The words are magical and the narration barely conceals his dry humour. But before I do that I would like to share a few facts about crows.

That crows are intelligent and have co-existed with humans for centuries has been well known. That they can survive on anything that is edible has enabled them to thrive with aplomb along with the explosive growth of humans in urban centres. Their behaviour, especially in relation to humans has been subject of studies in various environmental establishments. Perhaps, the University of Washington at Seattle is one of the rare ones to have a research wing devoted to corvids, the species that the common crow belongs, as some people imagine it is the corvid capital of the world.

A researcher at Seattle has witnessed an exhibition of intelligence of crows. Hovering around garbage bins crows would wait for a squirrel to wriggle into a discarded can. Out when he pops from the can with food in its mouth the crows would mob that squirrel and rob him of his food. Crows have also been found to be smart enough to remember human faces and “hold grudges for human misdeeds”. They also have been seen attacking such humans whom they would seem to abhor. On the other hand, they also show great appreciation for the humans who treat them right. They are known to have left “gifts” for such individuals in reciprocation of the good turns done to them. The gifts included candies, safety pins, keys and such like that, presumably, they think are associated with humans. There are many more remarkable features regarding behavior of crows. I have myself come across a video where a crow would put away litter in a bin. As Krishnan has mentioned below, Douglas Dewar wrote a book only on them almost a hundred years ago.

Leaving that for the time being, here is what Krishnan wrote on crows. The extract reflects his keen observations and an acutely analytical mind and the impressive language that he has used to give expression to his observations. So, here it goes:

“… Crows are such sapient birds, their ways are so curiously dark and daring, that one could write pages about them – Dewar (Douglas Dewar, a British Civil Servant and ornithologist), in fact, has devoted a whole book on grey-necks (crows) – and I dare not add a paragraph! But I will say this, I have watched the civilization overtake the jungle crow, in my back yard.

“It was a rude, uncouth, apprehensive bird in my boyhood, lacking poise, shy and sidling in its approach to the tap for a drink, clumsy and precipitate in its getaway. Today it sits on top of the bucket with easy self-assurance and wears a sophisticated look. The amused tolerance in its eye suggests that it is reflecting impersonally over something ludicrous.

“It is possible that it is thinking, in its black mind, that in the past thirty years it has witnessed the gradual taming and civilization of one who was a robust young barbarian!”

*Photo from internet

Memories of an ordinary Indian :: 11

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(In continuation of previous installment)

While all the friendly matches of football, hockey or cricket used to be played on the College grounds the tournaments used to be held at the Race Course grounds. The Race Course as a destination has now disappeared, the grounds, the pavillions and other assets having been given away to the College of Physical Education now known as the Laxmibai Institute of Physical Education. As these grounds became unavailable for tournaments a stadium was built, I suppose, to fill in the void.

On the football tournament days as a child I used to frequently accompany father to the Race Course. One Mathura Prasad Choube, an old Jhansi Heroes legend during his hockey-playing days and in-charge of games at the college, would come to pick up father and would throw the temptation at me to accompany them and witness the match. It was an offer that just couldn’t be spurned. So, mother would quickly dress me up and I would climb on to the tonga. As the college had not till then acquired a bus the teams used to be ferried to the Race Course in tongas. Some of the tonga-wallas were regularly engaged and they were well known to the players and the staff who used to accompany the football or hockey teams. They had become die-hard supporters of the college team. I remember there was a portly tonga-walla by the name Bhagona. He was such a big supporter of the college team that he would go cart-wheeling along the far boundary line if the college team scored a goal. Such loyalties are seldom seen today.

No races of horses were ever held at the Race Course. At least, I hadn’t seen any. It had a football field on which hockey matches also used to be held. A cricket field would also be carved out of it with a chalk boundary. The ground being devoid of grass cricket or hockey balls would run very fast on it. Beyond these grounds which were next to the two pavilions there used to be a piece of vacant land of huge proportionsthat was meant for Polo.

 Polo matches would be held on these grounds which would generally coincide with Scindia Gold Cup Hockey Tournaments that has an unbroken record of being more than 80 years. A huge tent would also be erected on one side of the ground for the players and their assistants. Horses used to be kept away from the tent. As horses had to be changed after every “chukker”, there used to be quite a collection of them. Not many spectators would assemble to watch the matches as not many were familiar with the game. It was, till then, a maharajas’ game. Many of them would, however, go all the way to have a glimpse of the maharaja, if he happened to be playing.

 The sleepy town, as it was, would seem to be suddenly coming alive with such activities as hockey and polo matches with Gwalior Mela that would also be on its month-long run at the same time. Once, the town was agog with excitement when the maharaja fell off a horse while playing polo. Anxious citizens rushed to the hospital to inquire about his welfare even though it was well-known that the maharaja was safe and sound in body and soul. People were terribly fond of the Maharaja. Those were feudal times and the maharaja was considered to be good feudal.

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Since I used to potter around the house when I was the only child at home, having nothing better to do I used to hover around father. His classes apparently started after mid-morning in winters and yet my mother had to hurry up to give him lunch before he left. Despite mother’s rush she occasionally wouldn’t be able to cook the regular course-wise Bengali meal and frequently she would boil some eggs and cook daal to go with the rice and a vegetable dish. As he sat down for his rather early frugal meal he would ask me to sit next to him. He would mash the eggs, mix the mash or hash with the rice and add salt and some black pepper. He would then make small balls out of the mash which he would shove into my mouth. Later, I saw that boiled eggs and rice with salt and ghee are favourites of many bongs. I, too, have always liked this stuff, only I add a generous bit of green chillies to give to the mashed-up pile quite a bit of sting.

After a meal that was basic to the core he would start dressing up. Despite the modest income, he had built up quite a collection of suits over a period of time. His shirts, generally white, were most interesting for me as to them he would add the detachable collars and cuffs. These were all imported. This was in early 1940s and the Great War was still being fought and, hence, perhaps, the austerity. The shirting used to be of cotton that was scarce. The collars along with the edges of the cuffs were the first to get dirty and hand-washing would quickly wear them off. Those days there were no strong detergents and no washing machines. The tailors, too, wouldn’t use any stiffeners. These detachable attachments that were permanently starched freed people from this worry as these would remain stiff even after a wash and perhaps give a smarter look to the ensemble. After use, one could wash and reuse them which is precisely what my father used to do. They wouldn’t crumple – such was the stiffening material inside.

 The shirt itself would remain clean inside the jacket and didn’t need to be given frequent washes. Introduction of synthetic cloth made out of artificial fibres along with several other accompanying changes including those of fashion have ushered in many sartorial changes for men, as they surely must have for women too. The detachable collars and cuffs have since disappeared from the Indian market. These were virtually a necessity those days but today perhaps only the rich and fashionable use them Much, much later I saw Jerry Lewis in a film wearing under a dinner jaclet only the cuffs and collars with an attached stiff white triangular pad tied at the back.

 To keep the collar firmly attached to the shirt father used to have a couple of biggish buttons – one for the back of the neck which used to be somewhat collapsible and the other for the front top buttonhole that used to be part of a set of four buttons.

 This was before the plastic age and hence there were no plastic buttons down the shirt front. The front opening used to be only up to half way down the shirt-front, anyway, for which a set of four buttons was enough with a slightly bigger one for the top one to take in four layers of cloth for the collar. My father used to use brassy looking buttons and cuff links whereas well-to-do people would use silver or gold buttons. After all this time-consuming rituals he would select a tie which would be normally be fromhis collection of Tootal ties. Tootal used to be a famous brand for ties before Independence. If I am not wrong, these ties are just not available In India any more. Of course, other brands have occupied its predominant place and have kept pace with changing cycle of fashion.

He would then put on his shoes, generally a tan Oxford (a black Oxford was supposed to be a no no during the day time – a convention which he asked me to observe even when I was going to the Academy of Administration), and then the jacket and he was ready to go with his battered portfolio with a sola hat on his head. All of us used to marvel at the way my father walked as even after a day’s outing he wouldn’t lose the shine of his shoes. We used to live in a lane that was pretty dusty as the maharaja’s establishment probably could never find the resources to metal it. And yet, while our pairs used to be overlaid with dust, father would come back home with his shoes still be shiny with only a thin film of dust on them.

(To be continued)

*Photo fro the internet