Partridge in a Pear tree !



Many years ago; far more than I care to remember, Christmas was the grand finale of the year's festivities. Usually Diwali would have just gone by and Delhi  turned on its cool winter charm. Our father would have received his Diwali bonus and everyone at home would be a lot more cheerful and magnanimous than usual. Money mostly has that kind of intoxicating effect , if you know! On a Sunday just before Christmas, I would don my very fashionable( or so I thought) double breasted green and brown woolen sports coat ;a hand- me- down gift from a generous aunt; my locally made light blue jeans and spit polished black school shoes with white nylon socks. Mismatch never troubled me ; not that I knew any better. No  one else pointed it out either and I would take a bus ride on route 317 to  famed Christmas bazaar in the background of white colonnaded colonial architecture of Connaught Place.

As I said it was a long time ago. There were no Maruti cars on the roads. In fact there was a small fraction of today's two wheeled traffic around. Charles Correa had yet to design the iconic LIC building and that abominable monstrosity - underground Palika bazar had not yet been unleashed on the landscape. There were a lot more trees;at least you could see a lot more than you see today. Delhi mornings could be foggy once in a while in winter but the air was crisper and nobody knew what  the word smog actually  meant. 

I would be in possession of a couple of one rupee notes , two  or three quarters  and a few five paisa coins. There were a few gold toned twenty paisa coins in my possession too. I was enthralled by them and would never spend those coins. They were kept at home. Christmas Bazaar was a magical place. Vendor after vendor offering this or that. Toys, luggage, clothing, household items and books. Yes, you heard it right. There was a time when people bought books and I would browse through a mountain of them. Luckily there were vendors selling second hand books and books published abroad without cover and old magazines and comic books. They were cheap and I bought  as many as I could. Till my money ran out. It really felt like a partridge in a pear tree. My very own personal Christmas!

And I bought Christmas/ New year cards. The one's you put in a paper envelope; lick a postage stamp on and use your best handwriting to write an address on it. Something that would let  the recipient know  who the letter is from just by looking at the writing. Crowning glory of the day was  to fork over some coins for a foaming espresso coffee with a liberal sprinkling of  chocolate powder. It was quite an achievement  since drinking coffee at  our middle class home was reserved for when we had special guests or when we attended a marriage feast. 

Delhi is many miles from home today. It's air is choked and roads are not pedestrian friendly. Christmas  Baazar folded up years ago . A book means an E-book and no one really sends a printed card any more. Everyone's hand writing is exactly like everyone;on the keyboard anyway. And on this Christmas Santa left me gifts under the colorfully decorated tree. I  also had the privilege of being served a full course turkey dinner accompanied by a very decent full bodied wine and an absolutely divine rum cake for dessert. I received dozens of messages,cards, video's and greetings on my smart phone too. 

Merry Christmas and happy new year my dear friends and family. I am much obliged and thank everyone for their efforts on my behalf but if anyone  sees my partridge and my pear tree, be kind enough to let me know.!

Intolerance!

While everyone and their aunt in the recent past was giving a byte and their two cents worth on the subject, I found this amusing sign on the net. Of course I tweaked it a little bit but this sign board is presented without my commentary as this is complete in itself and reflects exactly what I think about it.

कोई हमको ये तो समझा दो !

अब कौन जीता कौन हारा , यह साफ़ नहीं हो तो ?  चलो भई आप ही समझा दो। हाँ जी  वही  बिहार  के चुनाव की बात। अभी आप भी भूले न होंगे ; ढोल नगाड़े की आवाज़ अभी गूंज रही है। बर्फी का स्वाद भी तो मुँह से नहीं गया होगा ? पर जीता कौन ?

अच्छा आप मेरी बुद्धि पे तरस खा रहे हैं ; भई सब जानते हैं नीतीश कुमार विजयी रहे हैं। हां 115 सीटें थी 2010 में  और इस बार आई …… 71 ; पूरी 44 कम।  यह जीतना होता है कि  हारना ? इसी बिना पर तो हम बीजेपी को हारा मान रहे हैं। 2010 में थी 91 सीट  और इस बार आई 53; यानि  38 कम।  तो ये हार हुई कि ना ? 38 कम पे हार, 44 कम पे जीत? 24.4 % मत अधिक हैं की 16 . 8 %। चलो जाने दो।  

फिर ये गुलाल अबीर किस के लिए उड़े ; और दीवाली  से पहले की दीवाली ? अच्छा,अच्छा याद आया। यह जीत है बिहार के सर्वहारा ;शोषित , दलित ;गरीब;अल्पसंख्यक और पिछड़े वर्ग की।  जिन्होंने न सिर्फ लोकतंत्र की रक्षा की  बल्कि सांप्रदायिक शक्तियों को भी कुचल दिया ! कुछ सुना सुना सा लगता है न आपको ; मुझे भी ऐसा ही आभास होता है।पिछले दशकों में लगभग  हर  चुनाव के बाद यही सुनाई दिया है। 68 वर्षों से गरीब का काम हैं सांप्रदायिक शक्तियों को कुचलना और लोकतंत्र की रक्षा करना।  शोषित , गरीब और पिछड़े इतने सालों में शोषित , गरीब और पिछड़े ही रहे हैं।  35 वर्ष कांग्रेस ने उनकी पीठ पे "हाथ" रखा।  15 साल फिर लालूजी ने "लालटेन" से उनका मार्ग दर्शन किया।  पिछले लगभग 10 वर्षों से नितीश जी उनको "तीर" की तरह प्रगति के पथ पे लिए जा रहे हैं।  आश्चर्य की बात है कि  अबतक कहीं पहुंचे नहीं। इतने शोषित , गरीब और पिछड़े फिर भी  "जीतने " के लिए बचे   हैं।  

आप यकीन से कह सकते हैं कि शोषित , गरीब और पिछड़े जीते हैं ? वैसी जीत जैसी गुजरे 68 सालों में होती रही है , या अब कुछ और तरह की है ? अच्छा ये कांग्रेस भी 4 सीट से 27 तक आ गयी है। ज्यादा दूर न जाएँ तो बोफोर्स तोप में छोटे  मोटे कमीशन से चलते चलते राष्ट्रमंडल खेल के 7000 करोड़ के घोटले से होते हुए 176 लाख करोड़ के 2 जी स्कैम तक ; इसका सफर  बड़ा प्रगतिशील रहा है।  कांग्रेस जीती मानी  जाएगी ?

 इससे याद आया कि लालूजी जीते हैं। पिछली बार थी 22 और अब है 80; ये तो मानेंगे ? अच्छा मोदी जी  को जुमला बाबू का ख़िताब मिलने से पहले लालूजी ही  अपने जुमलों के लिए विख्यात थे। जी साहिब मुझे याद है यह वही लालूजी हैं  जो जमानत पर हैं और चारा घोटाले में ससुराल की यात्रा कर आए हैं। न्यायालय ने चुनाव के लिए अयोग्य बताया  है। फिर  भी  चुनाव  जीते हैं ! बिना लड़े! इसे कहते हैं जीत।   पिछली बार अपनी धर्म  पत्नी को परदे के आगे रख के शासन किया ; इस बार धर्म भाई … ना , ना, ना पुत्रों की बात न करें। एक पिता अपने संतान को आगे न लाएगा तो क्या आपकी संतान के बारे में परेशान होगा। किस दुनिया में रहते हैं जी  ?

अच्छा मै गलत समझ रहा हूँ। विजयी कांग्रेस नहीं ; न ही लालूजी।  ये सब अकेले थोड़ी न है। यह तो मिलजुल के नितीश जी के साथ हैं। सिर्फ  सुशासन के लिए ही तो ! बस और क्या। हाँ जी ; जिसकी चाहे कसम खिला लो! जीते तो नितीश बाबू ही हैं !

पर प्रभु वो 115 से 71 वाली बात का क्या ? 

 लगता है आप समझा नहीं पाएंगे  और मैं समझ नहीं पाऊंगा। इस मौज़ू पर मिर्ज़ा ग़ालिब ने पहले  ही कह रखा है ,:-
" हज़रते नासेह गिरानी , दीदा ओ दिल फर्श ए राह 
   कोई मुझको ये तो समझा दो कि समझाएंगे क्या "

 चले  इस किस्से  पे मिटटी डाले । आज सचमुच ही दीवाली है। अपने परिवार और मित्रों सहित हसीं ख़ुशी मनाइये।  मेरी तरफ से मंगल  कामनाएं।
 
 

 

My Drinking Problem!

 I was very young when I developed a drinking problem. Around age 4!   I know you think that is impossible. It is too early, you say! Did I make some sort of a medical history?  Well what do you know; some people have had it even earlier. I am sorry to disappoint this early but I did not make it to the pages of the American Medical Journal.

My problems with the bottle started gradually.  In the beginning I would gladly put the bottle to my mouth as soon as it was offered.  I even looked forward to it. As I grew older they decided that drinking straight up from the bottle is not right. I should be sitting on the stool with a full glass in my hand.

That is when I started developing an aversion to drinking milk. I dropped the glass on the floor continuously. I threw tantrums. I screamed and shouted. I would make weird faces. Several times I poured my milk down the kitchen sink. Obviously when no one was watching! I was not a baby any more!  When all else failed I would ask to be bribed with a real chocolate. They offered chocolate milk instead. I countered with a firm “no”. I tell you kids that age are tough negotiators; very hard to out smart.

A life of crime however never pays. Eventually they caught on to my con. Now it was clear that I was not lactose intolerant. I was gobbling up other dairy products by the bucket load; nearly to the point of endangering the weekly grocery budget. It was just milk I ran away from. 

Milk is a great source of calcium, essential for healthy bones. Milk is also great for strong teeth, and it helps prevent tooth decay and cavities. Milk contains protein, which builds muscles. Vitamins A and B in milk helps build good eyesight. Milk can even prevent damage from environmental toxins because it has antioxidants. Young children need it while they are growing. Even adults should have it, and here I was rejecting it out right. This made our household intolerably tense like ‘clear and present danger’ rolled into ‘enemy at the gates’. 

A war council headed by my mother was formed.  They tried several stick and carrot strategies. I however defeated all of their maneuvers quite easily. With an imminent defeat looming large, writing for the war council was on the wall. They needed to recruit a hot shot external “General Eisenhower” to carry the day. As luck would have it my mom's great aunt decided to visit us from her village. It is not proven but rumor has it that my mom had something to do with it. 

“Maas”; aunt in the local lingo certainly had a name but I do not remember what it was. Everyone knew her as ‘Maas’; the lady with a bag of home remedies; instant worldly wisdom and an unending repertoire of stories. She lorded over her farm with an iron hand and was the undisputed repository of all family gossip. Aunt looked like a typical authoritative character that stepped out of a movie set. A little dusty, rough, tough and weather beaten, she was mostly dressed in her ankle length traditional gown that started life as deep red but was now faded brown. She also had an irradiated sap green one too.  

Aunt had no use for diplomacy. She was almost brutally direct; simple and honest. She went straight for the jugular and was not beyond using rough words. I was positive that she has been tasked to straighten me out. I was determined to see through her wily tricks and make her dance around my little finger. Only it did not happen that way. 

Aunt stayed with us for a couple of days. She talked a lot to my mom.  To be fair, she told me some really funny stories about that rascal of a dog she had. She told me about all the naughty things she did when she was a little child and how she fell into the well. She told me about her two big eyed twin cows at the farm; the fascinating kitty with ice blue eyes and the rooster called “king”. No word about drinking milk however escaped her lips. Not a squeak. Before she returned home, she invited us to visit her though. At the bus station she specially messed up my hair a little; repeated her invitation in my ears and told me about the surprise she has for me at the farm. Just for me!

I should have but I never suspected the speed at which this trip materialized. My mom who had a million objections to me attending a birthday party in the next street and a list of inviolable conditions as long as her arm for a sleepover at my cousin’s place was soon packing for a long stay at the farm. I heard two weeks. In reality, I was raring to go myself! I thought maybe I would get lucky and ask aunt to gift me a little kitten! Wouldn’t that be nice? No, I did not share my hopes with my mom. Adults never handle that kind of information too well you know! 

First morning at the farm house aunt woke me up a little early and asked,” do you want to see my twin cows?” “What a question? What is this old lady thinking? Of course I do”; I thought. Anyway I suppressed my feelings and just said “yes”. And there it was; two brown spotted cows hard to tell apart; munching away at their food in the cow shed. Besides them I could see an all white cute little baby cow too that was suckling. This was aunt’s secret surprise that she was telling me about. 

 Presently aunt sat down under one of the cows and started milking with her hands. I realized she had very stubby fingers and her thumbs looked as big as a chair leg. I was fascinated with the way milk was streaming into the bucket with a regular rhythm. Chuur; Churr! Churr; Churr! The sound drew me closer as if pulled by a magnet and aunt motioned for me to sit down. In a very matter of fact way aunt asked me to open my mouth and directed a stream of milk straight from the udders as I did so. I do not know if I was shocked, surprised or excited but this was a game I liked. That fresh, warm, sweet and frothy milk did not taste bad at all in my mouth either. I wanted more; and more!

We played this game twice everyday I was at the farm. I would have ordered a third round but they milked their cows only two times in a day. Of all the milk I have had in my entire life, most of it was had in those two exciting weeks. I entirely forgot asking about getting a kitty then, although I have a pale green eyed one now. 

I still hate drinking milk. That whitish liquid that you see me sipping occasionally gets poured out of a brown glass container with a screw top; bottled by the redoubtable Gilbeys of Ireland. I ordered a third round the other day and somehow it did not agree with my stomach next morning.

 Did I already tell you that we have to pay for our sins? So there I was regretting some of my choices with acid eating away at the linings of my stomach and who else but my dear wife appeared before my eyes. “Can I have Tums”? I asked. “No”. “Is there Gaviscon or Maalox in the house?”  “No”.  Funny; all these years and I never knew she was this reticent!

“Here, take this glass of milk”; she ordered a minute later. “Milk is a great natural anti acid”. Now you can safely say no to your mom but heaven help you if you ever say no to your wife! History of my entire life went through my mind in that instant and I vividly remembered the whole story about that great aunt you’ve read so far. As you might have guessed it, ‘Maas’ is not amongst us any more. “God bless her kind soul”, I thought, as I gritted my teeth and raised a toast in her memory. 

A glass of cold milk!

Military Justice !

Justice is believed to be blind. Kind of immune to any external influence ;just paying attention to the facts , figures and evidence. Like many other concepts this concept does not always prove to be true in the real world. On one hand a sentenced criminal with grave charges like Sanjay Dutt can get one furlough from his jail term after another and then get it extended with superior ease but on the other hand at the end of 2011, a total of 1,486 under trial prisoners were kept in the Indian prisons for a period of more than five  years; 7615  between three to five years; 13592  between two to three years and 30261 between one to two years. This is even before they were convicted of any crime whatsoever. 

 Subroto Roy of the Sahara group was recently provided with an air conditioned office space with  internet , fax and phone inside the jail premises. This was to allow him to conduct business activity and possibly raise $ 650 million to fund his own bail. On the other hand according to the 78th report of the Law Commission as on April 1, 1977, of a total prison population of 1,84,169, as many as 1,01,083 (roughly 55%) were under-trials. For specific jails, some other reports show: Secunderabad Central Jail- 80 per cent under-trials; Surat-78 per cent under-trials; Assam, Tripura and Meghalaya-66 per cent under-trials. More recent statistics would paint a grimmer picture.

What is clear that Justice system works differently for different people. Obviously it is not perfect but usually an independent judiciary is more sympathetic and has highlighted the adverse condition of the poor with regard to justice.  In State of Rajasthan v Balchand  the accused was convicted by the trial court. When he went on appeal  to the High Court, it acquitted him. The State went on appeal to the Hon'ble Supreme Court under Art. 136 of the Constitution through a special leave petition. The accused was directed to surrender by the court. He then filed for bail. It was then for the first time that Justice Krishna Iyer raised his voice against this unfair system of bail administration. He said that  while the system of pecuniary bail has a tradition behind it, a time for rethinking has come. It may well be that in most cases an undertaking would serve the purpose. Further in Hussainara Khatoon and others v. Home Sec,State of Bihar  , the Court laid down the ratio that when the man is in jail for a period longer than the sentence he is liable for then he should be released. Independent judiciary does hold out a beacon of hope.

Military courts usually have dealt with military personnel and have different rules of evidence and court procedures.Military courts have exclusive authority over purely military crimes. Civilian courts have no authority. Some examples of purely military crimes include:Mutiny;Sedition;Failure to obey an order  and Insubordinate conduct.Most crimes violate both civilian and military law. Examples include robbery, assault and murder. The issue becomes whether a military service member will be tried in civilian or military court.Civilian court authority is usually based on the location of the crime. The crime must have occurred within the boundaries of the state. Military court authority is based on the status of the offender.If he's an active service member, the Military courts have jurisdiction no matter where the crime occurs. Non service individuals are not supposed to be tried by them.

Amendment 21 of the constitution of Pakistan  allows the establishment of a military court to try  terror related offenses. This is in response to the murder of 130 odd  school children recently in Peshawar. If we look back in Hazara Town Quetta attack (16 Feb 2013) by Deobandi militant of Lashkar-e-Jhangvi (ASWJ – Sipah-e-Sahaba), at least 110 Shia Muslims were killed, majority of them women and children. Several other times baloch children have been killed; sometimes by the army itself. No one cared. Never was the need felt to change the constitution and the army act . Never did any one suggest that the victims should get a speedy justice so let us establish military courts. So what is different this time round? Obviously it the fact that the victims in this instance are children of the army personnel! It hurts. Army can bend ; mold; subvert; revert and cut to size anyone and everything as it suits its needs. Judiciary probably was the last bastion of civilian democracy still sputtering around in Pakistan. With the establishment of  military courts even that has been usurped. As someone said that  if justice can be dispensed by military better than the judiciary. Then maybe the judges should be given a khaki suit instead!

Last time Nawaz Sharief got thrown out in a coup by General Musharraf. This time He has managed the coup himself. Foreign policy and Defence policy   are directly controlled by the army. Army has a say in every other executive function of the government and a hand in all political pies. It eats away 30% of entire country's budget.  It is the one that created, trained and nurtured all shades of terrorist groups and continues to provide mentor ship to their front organizations. It would be funny if this was not so tragic that they now have taken upon themselves to bring these elements to "justice"! Interesting times ahead!

White Elephants and White Ants!

Pigment on wood; Height: 44.5 cm . Width: 55 cm .Vessantara Jataka, Chapter 2 - Kalinga Brahmins are Given the White Elephant.

Artist : Thai Bobo ;   Walters Art Museum 

God Indra rides a mighty multi-tusked white elephant . Mahatma Buddha’s mother had dreams of a white elephant entering her womb when Buddha was conceived.  Jataka Katha mentions that Buddha appeared as a supernatural white elephant in two of his past lives. White elephants are considered to represent divinity ; good future;peace and wealth in the east . They are prized possessions for royalty and the King of Thailand is believed to posses ten white elephants. Public is not  is allowed to see them though. A rarity in the wild too; they are hard to find.

White ants however are not that rare. they are very common indeed and some times a very useful excuse since they can eat away books and documents. Books that you do not want to read and the documents that you do not wish to come to light! 

Kem Cho ?

 sculpture of shaking hands near the Capitol Mall , Sacramento, California

Obama does feel like a very ordinary individual. Specially in light of his very forgettable presidency that has swiftly gone from "Yes we can" to "No I can't".  If he makes an effort to learn to say greetings in a new language ; it must really be quite important. A number of heads of state and heads of the governments traipse through the halls of United Nations in New York . Quite a few of them wing their way to Washington DC and some do get to see the POTUS  when on official business. This was not one of those trips.

Modi's recent trip to US was unique in many respects and strikingly different from the trips of other Indian prime ministers in living memory. Firstly it was such a huge turnaround for an individual to be greeted officially at the white house  when just some time ago he was considered not worthy of even a simple visitor visa. Several plans to bring him over by his group of overseas supporters in the past were stymied by the state dept. bluntly refusing the visa. But then there were elections in India and the same man accused by many (proven by none) for various crimes including mass murder; won them comprehensively. Fair and square.

It was a bitter pill to swallow  for a lot his accusers and their friends in the media. They are still in a state of shock ; either taking recourse to  catatonic silence or acting like  headless chicken ; wildly lashing out in sheer desperation . To its credit , US has however smartly eaten the crow.

Modi hit all the right notes. Judiciously addressing his constituency back home in India by sticking to his religious fast; his ethnic sartorial sense and his use of Hindi. His visit to ground zero and casual interaction with a local gathering hit their American establishment and society targets with pin point accuracy. He did not forget his American Indian support group either and his Madison square garden appearance among them was described by his critics as " rock star reception"!

Exceptionally  high on optics and  colorful sound bites , can the trip  be termed a  success?  Well if you disregard the congress spokesperson the answer is yet hidden in the future. On a personal level Modi was vindicated and how! . On a national level the trip was able to reset the US - India relationship to an even keel. A relationship that had seen  considerable degradation in recent times as seen by the Khobragade affair ; spying on Indian leaders  and the American embassy school affair..... It  was tit for tat that had all been going south recently. There is nothing here  to jump with joy yet as I believe too much of an American embrace is nearly as bad as too much  of American animosity. Ask Pakistan !  However a healthy ,balanced, economic, diplomatic and political ties with the US  are desirable and must be valued.

A huge part of the trip was focused on invigorating  the economic relationships with the US business and industry. There are clear pointers that a significant headway has been made during Modi's meeting with the captains of industry and large investors. The confidence generated by these  meetups even pushed India's credit rating up . A lot will depend on what has been asked of in return and what promises Modi is able to keep. Inflow of new foreign investment will depend on reduction of red tape; rationalization of rules and relaxation of norms governing these investments. Modi has promised to clean up the mess in six months , so we will have to wait and see how  it pans out in the coming months.  Modi is banking heavily on foreign investment to generate new jobs for the young demographic and I will not be surprised to see him push the envelope to achieve a breakthrough.

That brings us to that  special group called "American Indians". Very vocal in Modi's support this group has for sometime now bet on Modi. Commonly held belief that they are a bunch of rich professionals with a lot of political  reach and far right view is far from true. This is pure stereotyping . Reality is that they are as varied as the Indian society itself. Come to think of it what is common between a  New York cabbie  who arrived from Moga ; a silicon valley techie that arrived from Tumkur and the owner of a 7-Eleven who arrived from Bhuj ? Nothing really. To see them as a homogeneous entity is not only wrong it is down right insulting to them.

Most of them feel a strong connection to India and have  strong emotional, cultural  , economic and family ties to their mother land.  People often make the mistake of either putting them on a pedestal as "they  made it "or demonize them  as "self centered, crass runaway's " . Best way to treat them is as one would treat any other Indian. They were the biggest external factor that helped Modi win his massive mandate even when most did not have a vote. Modi understands that  power. He did not give them any largesse except a promise of easy visa, but he was able to give them a rallying point. They see in Modi as someone that could bring about the changes they want to see in their land of birth and I would not be surprised if this group gets an expanded role in the coming years. 

So imagine a special correspondent of "Ku Klux Klan Today" travels to Harlem where a basketball game is being played and starts interviewing some of the African American fans gathered there. The interviewer then proceeds  to use derogatory and demeaning terms for Martin Luther King while reporting from the site and tells the gathered fans that they have "no class". It is quite hypothetical and totally improbable ;but would you be surprised if you had to fish the correspondent out from bottom of the east river?  I know even a rookie journalist is not so stupid as to conduct his interviews in this reckless fashion. What do you know ? Life is stranger than fiction and heartburn is such a bad disease. Makes you loose your head . This scenario actually got played out during this trip at Madison Square  garden ;about six miles via 5th avenue from Harlem.  Just change the  news organization ;ethnicity of  the fans and their hero with same initials "M". Oh , another thing - make it a veteran journalist.  I am not so sure of his professional reputation but luckily he is safe and hope he gets over his heartburn soon . He might be offended but I would love ask him 'Kem cho?".

On a sour note I was  a little disappointed by the subdued role played by the Indian foreign minister Sushma Swaraj  during the trip. I would have preferred a more visible use of her substantial talents. Apparently it was  not mandated.