Telangana Conondrum

(Image: Some youngsters threaten suicide if Telangana statehood is agreed.)

"Already gone!" was what Naidu had to say, when NDTV questioned him about fleeing investments from Hyderabad. Ofcourse, he mistook it for a question about his own political career.

TDP's Umamaheshwara Rao said that it was a conspiracy by the leaders of Karnataka and Tamil Nadu to divide Andhra Pradesh to decrease the political importance of the state at the national level. He pointed out that two key Congress leaders in the decision M Veerappa Moily and P Chidambaram were from Karnataka and Tamil Nadu respectively.

MLC Rajakumari too was vociferous in her opposition, "The Center's decision to give separate Telangana is being described as a gift given by Sonia Gandhi on her birthday. Is the state a cake to be cut into pieces and distributed?"

Kodali Nani, the Producer-MLA from coastal Andhra, was clearly angry. He made it clear that this was a naked attempt to undermine the release of NTR Jr. starrer "Adhurs". "Even during audio function they were talking about KCR's fast. This is an elaborate ploy against the movie. People are jealous of NTR Jr's dancing and weight losing skills", he said with a wink.

Chief Minister Rosaiah was the most surprised. "But I did tell them Telangana was a bad idea. Im not sure they understood my English." Son of former-CM YSR, Jagan, had a simple response, "If only Paa were here!"

KCR was so jubilant he gobbled a few biryanis and whiskeys at home. He is now quickly planning for "Make-me-CM" fast unto death.

Chiranjeevi though decided to claim victory, "Currently Congress is leading the race for resignations. But if you look at the percentages, with 11 out of 18 our MLAs already resigning, we have won this race hands-down."

Disclaimer: Some of the quotes may or may not be fictional.

Mumbai: A year on.....

A kid shouted, "No school today!", just as I picked up the newspaper on 27-Nov. I wondered why, but only for a few seconds. The news of the terrorist attack was still sketchy, but no less alarming. I almost ran to my office to follow it on the internet. India was going through the greatest crisis in its recent history. It was sickening, made-for-TV act. No hostages, no demands, only the spectacle of a nihilistic ideology.

A few hours later a colleague of mine said, "kill the terrorists first, worry about the hostages later!". I was furious, but could only mutter "You would say that, wouldn't you." While we receded into our plush offices and gated communities (most of which ask "Why go out?"), India was going to hell.

I contrast this with another incident of similar magnitude, The Parliament Attack in 2001. That was a time India bayed for blood, resulting in largest troop mobilization in our history. As Steve Coll later pointed out, the amount of evidence India produced would be sufficient for a country like the US to go to war. But India is not the US or Israel. Our border with Pakistan is a reality, geographically, politically and historically.

The lasting effect of Mumbai may not be the anger it generated, but restraint which typified our response. Whatever anger, was directed at our own complacent elites. The subsequent editorials contained some of the best opinion pieces in recent times. In a strange way almost every politician held responsible, was rehabilitated. The buck simply did not stop.

For a country surrounded by tar-pits of right and left wing extremism, this is a moment of self-evaluation. As Pratap Bhanu Mehta asked "how can a people who have much to be proud of, be endowed with a state that has much to be embarrassed about?" Mumbai maybe just another example of how the idea of India is constrained by the Indian state.

I had an epiphany

Sitting at 2600m in a meadow, I stared into the sun. I now know what Searle meant:

"You and the darkness are distinct from each other because darkness is an absence of something, it's a vacuum. But total light envelops you. It becomes you."

Pindari Glacier Trek: Short Itinerary

(Click on the links "Day *" to read a travelogue of the day.)

Day1 : Reach Kathgodam early morning. Start to Saung by taxi, takes close 7 hrs. Then go to Loharkhet KMVN, we took another taxi due a broken bridge. Stay overnight at Loharkhet KMVN.

Day2: Start to Dhakauri/Khati. Uphill climb from Loharkhet to Dhakauri takes 4.5 hrs (approx 11 km). After lunch start to Khati. Dhakauri to Khati takes around 3 hrs, mostly downhill (approx 8 km). Breath taking sights to mountains and meadows. Stay overnight at Khati, huge number of hotels/dhabas.

Day3: Start to Dwali from Khati. Long but not so difficult walk for around 5 hrs (apporx 11 km). Stay at Dwali overnight at KMVN.

Day4: Assault for Pindari Zero-Point. Dwali to Phurkiya is a slightly uphill trek, takes 2 hrs (apporx 5 km). Have breakfast at Phurkiya. From Phurkiya to Zero-Point long walk for close to 2.5 hrs (apporx 11 km). Reach Baba's place, get some rest and make the final attempt for Zero-Point which is about 1 Km uphill. By now we were very tired, but the view was breathtaking. Some snaps and we started our way back. Reached back Dwali by 4:30pm (we started in the morning at 6 am). Long and ardorous day of 24 km walking. Start early to make sure you can the views without too many clouds.

Day5: Coming back to Dhakauri from Dwali. Dwali to Khati descent will take 3 hrs. We had lunch at Khati and reached Dhakauri in 4 hrs. It was raining all the way from Khati->Dhakauri, combined with uphill climbing took us 4 hrs.

Day6: Get back from Dhakauri to Sauing via Loharkhet. Catch taxi in Saung for Kathgodam.

Some Suggestions:
1) On Day 3 you can reach Phurkiya directly instead of waiting at Dwali. But you may need advance booking for KMVN. Staying at Phurkiya will allow you to reach zero-point early and spend some significant time there.

2) Day4 you can start at Phurkiya, reach zero-point and get back to Dwali. Saves time.

3) Take a slow trek from Dhakauri to Khati (or reverse). Clear skies offer some breathtaking views of mountains Baljauri, NandaKhet, Sundardunga, Mektel etc.

District 9

Sci-Fi movies (the good ones at any rate) generally oscillate between mundane action and metaphysics. Rare is a movie that combines genuine dystopia with high-octane action, stark realism of modern cities and socio-political challenges. The only other movie that comes to mind is Alfonso Curaon's Children of Men. For once, thankfully, the aliens of District 9 don't land in the US, but in a post-apartheid Johannesburg.

Neil Blomkamp's aliens of District 9 are not particularly smart, they have no aim or purpose on earth and live as scavengers. As it happens so often in such cases, they are rounded up in a slum and forced to live among crime, poverty and deplorable conditions. To write more of the story, would be to give away too much. I'd rather delve into the film's directorial prowess.

Blomkamp's docu-drama like realism of a grimy, claustrophobic slum populated by aliens, crime addicted gangsters and an economy of simple scavenging is remniscent of Slumdog Millionaire and City of God. But the director's real genius is not his portrayal of a slum, but his ability to transcend this reality and look into socio-political issues like the world of private armies and governments conceding administrative space to large private organization and the simple impunity that "Us versus Them" offers. Blomkamp doesn't stop there, he even delves into the human emotions of Kafka-esque Metamorphosis.

The movie runs with a feverish pace even while keeping the big picture in sight. You don't have to be a Sci-Fi enthusiast to enjoy District 9, you just have to appreciate good movies.

Kamineyyyy

You walk out of the threatre and think, "Wait a minute! Why has no one thought of this before?" We were made to believe in the world of technicolor dreams, of eastman color locales, of flash-backs in sepia, of dancing ladies and happy families. We never saw this in real life and somehow it was make-belive (Jo bhi soye hai khabron mein unko jagaana nahi.). But not for Vishal Bhardwaj such happy-yuppy world. His world is grisly, grimy, ugly, grotesque and fascinating.

Bharadwaj populates Mumbai's slums with all kinds of sidey, insidious charecters, each one pursuing his own goals and agendas. They are Bengalis mafia men, Marathi goons-turned-politicians, African diamond traders, crooked cops and drug dealers. Thrown in to this mix are two twins. Ah! The twins, probably bollywood's second most loved concept (usurped of their first place recently by those NRI heroes). Charlie and Guddu played by Shahid Kapoor. One has a lifp and the other ftammerf. Charlie believes a person is not defined by the road he takes, but by the one he doesn't. Guddu has it all planned out, sex in 2009, marriage in 2014.

So what happens when Charlie has something all those sidey charecters would love to get their hands on........ Dhan te nan, te ne ne na…. Yep its all there, romance, fights, tragedies, sacrifice and even a video game like shoot out. This is one movie that we can call "Bollywood Cool".

Love in the time of Swine-flu

Life Lessons from Swine-Flu

1) Panic is more contagious than flu virus: In a nation of a billion, and an increasingly violent one, 20 deaths shouldn't worry anyone. But it does and we are suddenly a nation of mask wearers.

2) Everyone and Baba Ramdev has an opinion: Baba Ramdev, in his usual inane way, declared Swine-Flu could be cured by yoga. Even that brash up-start Sri Ravi Shankar (of Art of Living fame) declared it could be cured by Ayurveda.

3) News channels can be critical and silly at the same time: Swine-Flu panic was created by News channels, period. But they can also hold a debate of whether 'we' are over-reacting. In reality it is 'they' who over-react, create a panic and then try to be critical.

Urban legends : The Swine-Flu Chapter

There's a reason why UFO sightings and alien landing happen only in the U.S. For the same reason my neighbours' Ganesh statues started consuming milk a few months after the advent of Cable TV. It is also the same reason those characters in Delhi-6 claimed to see Kaala Bunder ("We saw him. He's invisible."). Swine-flu too finds victims only in metros, not in remote villages or sleepy small towns. This urban legend, like its predecessors, is a news broadcaster's wet dream.

Ofcourse we are all worried of Swine-Flu. But we also fail to ask if those construction workers building plush up-market apartments wear the same masks, if the servant maid living in a city slum uses hand-cleansing lotion. Sorry, in our middle-class world of "Daddy-knows-best" and arranged marriages, the only thing that can disturb our lives is a damn flu virus.

Symptoms of Swine-Flu Paranoia:

1) You wear a mask.
2) You wash your hands obsessively every few minutes.
3) Walk away from anyone who sneezes or coughs.
4) Apply weird lotions with vodka-like odour.
5) You feel a little feverish, with body pains (Or you are just bored with work.)
6) You read too much Times of India and watch Indian news channels.

Dusty and Boring........

For a Booker prize winning novel written by a multiple Oscar winning writer, this book is mediocre at best. Long before the Booker garnered glamor and fat advances, Ruth Prawer Jhabvala won it in 1975 for Heat and Dust. It was also turned into a movie by James Ivory.

The narrator, a young English woman, comes to India sometime after the Independence to understand the life of her step-mother, Olivia Rivers. She knows Olivia only from the letters she wrote to a friend. Her interest is the affair Olivia had with a local Nawab. It is not clear why the narrator is so interested in Olivia or what she intends to establish from her stay.

Jhabvala was born Ruther Prawer in a German Jewish family. She immigrated to England before World War-II, married an Indian architect, Cyrus Jhabvala and lived in India for a significant part of her life. Inspite of her background, she falls into the all too familiar pattern of exoticizing of India. The India of the British Raj with Nawabs, servants, strange customs, poverty, heat and dust. In some strange way she also allows her characters to justify customs like "sutte" (burning of a widow on her husband's pyre). There is an attempt to portray the characters as instinctive and passionate, but they come off as petulant and silly.

I wouldn't recommend this novel unless you wanted to understand the stereotypical India from a westerner's eye.

Naipaul's Darkness

The novel begins ominously "The World is what it is ; men who are nothing, who allow themselves to be nothing, have no place in it." "A Bend in the River" describes the story of an East African country in the early post-colonial days from the eyes of an Indian, Salim.

Salim belongs to an Indian Muslim family living on the east coast of Africa. Frustrated with his family's antiquated life, he travels to the town at the bend of the river(presumably Zaire) . It is in this town, stripped off his family's support, he sees the world for what it is.

It describes the vicious circle of modern day African countries. Destruction of an existing regime, a new name that offers optimism and economic security, only to be quickly replaced by corruption and disaffection and ultimately followed by another destruction. "To talk of trouble is to pretend there were laws and regulations that everyone could acknowledge. Here there was nothing."

Salim lives in constant fear of this impending destruction. He veers between craving for security and resentment towards his family for not equipping him for this life. "It isn't that there's no right and wrong here. There's no right." In the end Salim is driven from the town for being an "outsider" as the country begins another descent into chaos.

This is so much a book of displacement; of homes and homelands that exist only in the historical memories of people. The alienation that comes with independence, loneliness and quest for a new home. "You see the past is something in your mind alone, that it doesn't exist in real life. You trample on the past, you crush it. In the beginning it is like trampling on a garden. In the end you are just walking on ground."

It is not just Africans, but an outsider's attitude to them that comes to the fore. "Slaves are physically wretched, half men in everything except in their capacity to breed the next generation."

For writing this book, Naipaul was called the lackey of neo-colonialism. But not for Naipaul the naive or crafty arguments used by his fellow writers to describe post-colonial societies. He puts experience over imagination. This takes its toll. The first-hand experiences in post-colonial societies combined with his own unsympathetic view result in bleak observations and caustic portrayal. At some level he drowns in his own truth, failing to transcend it.

Walking the market near Makerere in Uganda, Naipaul in 'an inspector's gait, hands clasped behind his back, moving fast yet looking at everything' proclaimed to skies, "This is turning me into a racialist, for God's sake."

The Ballad of Indian Cricket

I will always remember the time India won the T20 Cup in 2007. The same is with my father and the 1983 World Cup. Those are the moments that stay with us. For a few hours we felt elevated and only sport can deliver such lasting moments. Conversely, our jobs and lives seem a little duller on the day India lose a match. As Guha himself puts it,"India ranks 150th in the World Development Report, below Namibia and above Haiti. It is cricketers alone who are asked to redeem these failures." It maybe a very Indian idea to expect a mythical intervention for a little joy.

"Every country has a preoccupation. In China its Mao, in South America its revolution, in India its cricket." Many, Indians and foreigners, have asked why cricket is so important to India. A much liked but cliched answer is that Indians being a lazy people preferred cricket, where the speed is slow and demands made on the players are low. Like all cliches there is some truth to this, but the explanation itself is an intellectually lazy one. To find the right answer you can't do better than read Ramachandra Guha's "A Corner of a Foreign Field". Guha takes up the formidable task of narrating the story of cricket in India. This is simply an inspired approach to political and social history of the game.

"A Corner of a Foreign Field" begins with the origins of cricket as a pastime for the English in India. The game is soon adopted by Indians, Parsis being the first to play the game and establish a club for it. The native sees the game not just as an entertainment but as a form of resistance to the Imperialist. In a glorious irony, the game supposed to strengthen the Empire is turned into a means for social justice and upward mobility.

Guha has that rare ability to "humanize" characters of history we know as cricketers or politicians. Douglas Jardine, Lord Harris, Palwankar Baloo, C.K.Nayudu and many others are characters in Guha's narrative, not just names holding a jumble of titles. His narration skilfully laces humorous trivia with the existing historical and political context. A large part of the book is spent exploring the Quadrangular tournament which was based on clubs with religious affiliations. It was in the Quadrangular that Palwankar Baloo, Vithal, C.K.Nayudu, Wazir Ali and others made their name. The tournament's ultimate abandonment is also seen as inevitable with the rise of an "Indian" nation and identity.

The pedestal of the first great Indian cricketer is not given to Ranjitsingh or C.K.Nayudu, but to a little known dalit spinner, Palwankar Baloo. His story is one of tremendous resistance, perseverance and the belief in cricketing ability. Baloo and his brother Vithal captained the Hindus in the Quadrangular and his two younger brothers, Shivram and Ganpat also represented the same team. It was claimed at one point that "One brother after another raising the Hindu cricket edifice higher and higher, spreading its brilliance in India and abroad."

Baloo and Nayudu are re-imagined to attain mythical status. Baloo's anonymity though is attributed to the fact that he never played for India. Nayudu was a far more popular figure who could rain sixes on the opposition. To a visiting Jardine, Nayudu sent a note, "Wait till you see me." Undoubtedly Nayudu was the first Indian player to make an impression in popular culture. He captained India on tours to England and was hailed as a legend.

The modern game though is discussed only in parts. Guha portrays the modern Indian fan as the "overworked, overpaid, half-drunk, hyper-national yuppie". But the same Indian fan stands in a ticket queue from the night before, he is not allowed to carry a banner or a poster, not even a bottle of water to the stadium (At Eden Gardens spectators were asked to drink water from a tap deemed unfit for consumption by the local municipality). After going through all this trouble, his heart is broken by players who throw matches for money. I see it as the venting of anger not just at the players, but at a system that has failed to deliver simple dignity.

All things considered though this is a wonderful read. Here's some trivia to entice you to read this book. Ranjitsingh once told a young boy "Balla seedha rakho, Jore se maro, Aur ghabrao mat" (Keep your bat straight, Hit Hard and don't funk). That young boy grew up to be C.K.Nayudu.

The Enigma of Naipaul

Rarely have I come across a person who has read VS Naipaul and not had an opinion of him. Chinua Achebe once complained Naipaul wrote about Africans but not for Africans, Edward Said called his work an "intellectual catastrophe", Derek Walcott called him "V.S.Nightfall", a reviewer of his book complained that Naipaul's aim was the desecration of his audience. Equally his admirers credit him with a Conradian style, a world vision, absolute honesty and clarity to simplify. So it is fitting that Naipaul received a wonderful biography in “The World Is What It Is” by Patrick French.

A weaker man would have tried to exonerate himself of the accusations of his illustrious colleagues (Paul Theroux and others). But by being honest to the point of being brutal, Naipaul the enigma has left his admirers and detractors awe struck. There simply cannot be a more honest biography of a living person.

The opening paragraphs of the book begin with a young Brahmin at the turn of the century duped to make a journey across the world from India to Trinidad. The journey by sea almost kills him, the work on a sugar plantation enervates and breaks him. But with a shrewd vision the young man becomes one of the richest people in Trinidad. The young man was Caplideo Maharaj, Vidiadhar Surajprasad Naipaul's maternal grandfather. Naipaul's younger days during the 30s and 40s of Trinidad are described in vivid detail. This part of the book reads almost like a second version of his masterpiece "A House for Mr Biswas".

In 1950 Naipaul leaves for Oxford on a scholarship. He meets Patricia Hale, a fellow student from lower-middle class background. He sees Trinidad as a place of no hope and prefers the mother country. The intense loneliness of his early English years are combined with no job prospects and he sinks into depression. He marries Pat but doesn't buy her a ring. His father passes away but he cant attend the funeral. In all this turmoil he publishes his first book "The Mystic Massuer". A few years later he publishes his masterpiece, "A House for Mr Biswas" , a fictional recounting of his father, Seepersad Naipaul's life. The book is still hailed as a post-colonial masterpiece. In 1971 "In a free state" won the Booker and suddenly Naipaul is short of ideas and needs stimulation.

His marriage to Pat is troublesome but survives. She is his companion, the first reader of his work, an honest reviewer, his mother, his house-maid and assistant. As Naipaul's fame grows she looses her independence. Into this fraught marriage enters Margaret, an Anglo-Argentine woman. Naipaul meets Margaret on the trip to Buenos Aires and they begin a relation that would last a quarter century. When asked about the relation, Naipaul curtly replied, "It was definitely not a meeting of the minds." The sex with Margaret helped him immensely. It resulted in rejuvenated works like "A Bend in the river", "Among the Believers" and "India: A Million Mutinies Now". Naipaul says. "I was very violent with her for two days with my hand; my hand began to hurt........My hand was swollen.I have enormous sympathy for people who do strange things out of passion." French summarizes the situation," Mama at home, a whore in South America."

All through this infidelity, Naipaul and his lovers exhibit a tremendrous sympathy for the writer in him. Margaret became his companion on his travels, while Pat was the reviewer of his work. Pat, low on self-esteem, now withdrew and suffers from cancer. "His nihilism begat her nihilism. They fed off eachother's negativity." In the end Pat dies of cancer and Vidia invites Nadira Alvi, a Pakistani journalist into the same house to marry him. The book ends with the scattering of Pat's ashes.

I have one complaint of the book, that I wish it was longer. For a 500 page book that is as good a compliment as any. The book ends in 1996, but why not 2002 when he won the Nobel? Why not much later, since Sir Vidia is still alive? Maybe there are two Naipauls, the writer who is compassionate but unsympathetic, truthful but selective, uncompromising and unyielding. And the person who is selfish, indecisive and lives in a perennial service of literature.

French claims Naipaul's decision reveal everything about his life is one filled humility and narcissism. It was hard for me to understand how a person could be both. But I did not have to look far. In a letter to Pat during his Oxford days, a young Naipaul wrote. "I love you, and I need you. Please don’t let me down. Please forgive my occasional lapses. At heart I am the worthiest man I know." It is French's understanding and courage as much as Naipaul's honesty that gives this biography a novel like beauty. Fiction is to make sense, but non-fiction can shock, terrify and deepen our understanding of complicated things. In the end I believe, Sir Vidia may have found the home he was always looking for, in this book.

A Suitable Girl?

To atone for the length of "A Suitable Boy" (it is the longest single novel in english at 1350 pages), I have not written its review. I did not want to subject readers to more about the same book.

But Vikram Seth has gone off and decided to write a sequel (or a jump sequel as he calls it). Hopefully this wll be a shorter and less tedious read. Also I hope it doesn't strain my purse and sprain my wrist like its predecessor

Credit Card Blues: Part Three

Its official, all the banks have gone nuts. HSBC, quite eloquently, denied me a credit card saying:

"We regret to inform you that we would not be able to issue you an HSBC credit card as your credit profile is not in line with out prevailing lending policy."

India's liberal elitist guilt

On The Daily Show, senior black correspondent Larry Wilmore said, "The Hispanics are an amazing, hard working people. Their food is delicious, .......". The host Jon Stewart interrupted him, "I think Hispanics would find this very condescending." Larry with immediate glee punched his fist with a "Nailed it!". Larry later explained that with Barack Obama in the White House, the blacks now suddenly felt like "The Man" and were hence entitled to their own black-liberal guilt.

Arvind Adiga's Booker prize winning White Tiger very much follows the same path. Adiga's work is at times funny and gives us a genuine picture of caste and economic exploitation of Bihar (or Darkness as it is referred to). My problem with the novel is not so much the story as it is the portrayal and narrative.

A driver- turned murderer- turned enterprenuer, Balram Halwai, writes a comic letter of self-importance to the visiting Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao. In it he tells the "true" tale of Indian economic and social development. The novel's gritty and dark undertone is often undermined by Adiga's own anecdotes and conclusions. He leaves no room for the reader's imagination. There is a genuine lack of subtlety and the writer is too eager to make his point. A story is not told as a story, but in some way as a moralistic tale about the various forms of social exploitation.

Steve Coll, of The New Yorker, admitted as much. That the novel is not so much about social exploitation as it is a mirror for India's elite and the grisly reality around them. The novel is also clearly aimed for a western audience, why else would you explain Goddess Laxmi?

As Larry would put it, read this novel to satifsfy your own liberal elitist giult. If not, well, you know what to do.

Harsha gets a visiting card..............

Credit Card blues: Part Deux

The plot gets thicker. HSBC called me with all their over-enuthsiasm, offers me revolutionary packages (or atleast that's what they say) for next to nothing. "Sir, believe me, the process is easy, just two documents and you are done." So inevitably, Im sucked into their vortex.

I recieve a call today saying there's a courier waiting for me at home, from HSBC. I run from office to pick up. Finally, I get a credit card. Its here. The courier hands me the package and Im in utter disbelief. Its not a credit card. Its not even a rejection letter. Its a DVD of the movie Fashion.

I mean really guys, why give me grass when I really a want a horse.

Atleast hopefully, the next courier will be a credit card.

Loss and Longing in Pune

Everything reminds me of her. An empty seat at the coffee shop, the email with an idiosyncratic title that never came, the hand that was never held, the quirky vocab not heard, the warm embrace Im made to long for.....

I quote Wong Kar Wai, "The past was something he could see but not touch. And everything else was blurred......"

T20: Plebian Cricket

Tishani Doshi has finally said what all those hacks at cricinfo consider heresy. That Twenty20 is a good thing and it is inevitably more entertaining than Test cricket. Dont get me wrong, I love reading Gideon Haigh and Ramachandra Guha for their diligent chronicling of the game. But most intellecutalls see T20 as a dumbing down of the game. This is hardly the case. At 3.5 hrs T20 is still longer than the Football and Basketball matches. If tons of evaluation can be done on each of these games (inspite of their percieved short timeframe and low quality), then cricket can be far richer and complicated.

In many ways cricket (atleast in its early days) was a game for the anglophiles. This anglophile nature tells us Lords is the home of cricket, Neville Cardus was the greatest cricket writer, W.G.Grace was the greatest batsman (after Bradman).

I for one dont mind the democratisation/plebinisation of cricket. Its just difficult to skip office to watch Dravid gracefully "leave" a ball from Dale Steyn. While it is good to read about the metaphysical interpertations cricket, a few wham-bang sixes dont hurt.

McCullum by Pasternak

Tishani Doshi on her cricinfo blog has said that McCullum's IPL journey may just have been scripted by Chekhov. A glamorous team that excels only at losing has something tragicomic about.

Let me go a step further and add another Russian writer to that idea. McCullum's current script can also be scripted by Boris Pasternak (Doctor Zhivago). In many ways McCullum is the inherently decent guy caught in a crossfire. Like Zhivago he tries to do the right thing, but is often undone by forces beyond his control. It is a classic Russian tragedy. The protagonist, like McCullum, can try, try and try but will eventually only lose, through no fault of his own.

The ugly IPL trophy

Tishani Doshi has brilliantly interpreted the ugliness of the IPL trophy and the cultural reasons of its garishness. Indians often confuse beauty with opulence. We prefer life-less concrete and glass facades to aesthetic values. Our wedding ceremonies are simply gaudy displays of wealth and jewellery. Its almost like there is no place elegance and sensitivity in this ugly exhibition of wealth.

Review: Curfewed Night by Basharat Peer

There is something deeply Naipaulean about Basharat Peer's work. There is honesty, understanding and compassion. But unlike Naipaul, Peer combines his compassion with a sympathetic and personalized portrayal of his subject. Curfewed Night is a memoir and a personal history of Kashmir. The story of Kashmir is painted with love, care and most importantly a sense of balance.

As a young teenager he saw the explosion of militancy in the Valley. The teenage Basharat refuses to sing the Indian national anthem, fantasizes about dressing like militants, crossing the border for a training camp and fighting for Azadi. His parents send him to Aligarh to study, away from the violence. In Delhi he becomes reporter where his world is broader and feels a need to tell the the Kashmir story. For him, "India was grotesque and fascinating".

In his own words, "People from every conflict zone had told their stories: Palestinians, Israelis, Bosnians, Kurds,.......". Peer sets out to tell the story of his homeland. In Aligarh, "I heard echoes of Kashmir in the pages of Hemingway, Orwell, Dostoyevsky and Turgenev.....I wondered if one could write like that about Kashmir...". Mr.Peer I haven't read Turgenev but you have done something very important for India. You have told the truth and you did it with a Kashmiri voice.

The nation-state of India, so often bungling, over-bearing and petty, is portrayed as an oppressive and vindictive military power. The central government manipulates local elections, the army militarises every town and village, the free media refuses to give a Kashmiri perspective. In one word, India is the "hegemon".

The freedoms we take for granted are denied under a quasi-militaristic rule. Atrocities that would make us livid happen with ghastly frequency. A bride who is raped on her wedding day, a mother whose son is killed by the military, the militant tortured to near death, the innocent teenager caught in cross-fire, each of them symbolise a land in turmoil. Kashmir, where the snow has turned red. Where countless young men, both the Indian army and the militants, are reduced to statistics and names on grave stones.

In many ways the tale of Kashmir, is the story of how the idea of India is constrained by the Indian state. India has denied democracy and militarised Kashmir for the sake of its own nationalism. Pakistan has fuelled militancy and played chimerical games to deflect questions of its own legitemacy. But what of Kashmir, its people, their identity and their rights.

Peer's tale is not so much a call of freedom, as it is a wail for peace and normalcy.

Muddled Minds

Why is it impossible to concentrate on anything continuously, while sitting in front of a computer? I’m working, while looking up the cricket score. I’m reading news, while checking e-mail. I’m watching a movie, while chatting on my IM.

Is internet the culprit or the deeply flawed individual who uses it?

Review: Revolutionary Road by Richard Yates

There is something deeply disturbing about this novel. Behind the restrained prose, the reader is allowed to sense the arrival of an impending doom. In this terrifying indictment of middle class suburban life (one that most Indians desperately crave for), Yates portrays lives that are uncharacteristically unhappy. The characters seem to have every material comfort in life that is seen as a pre-requisite for happiness, but such is the deep tragedy of his vision, even a remotely un-tragic ending is not possible.

The novel happens in 1950s suburban east coast America. Frank and April are the seemingly perfect couple with beautiful kids. Frank describes his job as “the most boring job in the world.”, but is unwilling to leave his job for something unknown. April is a deeply conflicted person who fails to come to terms with her domesticated life. Before marriage she sees Frank as a charming man destined to go places. But his obvious unwillingness to move away from a secured life creates a sense of disillusion and unhappiness.

As they make their way from one domestic crisis to another, one last attempt at happiness is made. Frank and April decide to move to Paris, where she would support the family and he would have time to find himself. But such is their tragic story that even this move ends unhappily.

In many ways 1950s suburban America is symbolic of our lives today. As the Indian middle class withdraws into plush offices and gated communities, as we live in artificial toy-lands and form relationships on the internet, we refuse to see our metamorphosis from citizens to consumers. We fail to realize that most of us are looking not for better lives, but for easy and less responsible ones.

Colbert endoroses Tharoor for MP

Stephen Colbert has officially endorosed Shashi for MP from Thiruvunanthapuram (http://www.comedycentral.com/colbertreport/full-episodes/index.jhtml?episodeId=224786).

He ofcourse said about himself,"I hate to pat myself on the back, I hired an assistant to do it. ".

IPL in Tawang

After finishing my thesis work at IIT Kanpur, I ran off to Tawang all by myself. Why Tawang, most people would ask and why alone? Tawang in Arunachal Pradesh, is the eastern most district of India. It shares a border with China and is a disputed territory (or so the Chinese
claim). As I reached Tawang, I was filled with a Seven years in Tibet-esque excitement. A land of Buddhist monasteries, monks, serene surroundings and simple living. The aim was to go with the least amount of planning. Don’t book hotel rooms, don’t read too much about the place, no solid travel plans, just go and discover.

Tawang is also a garrison town. A perceived threat from China results in huge military deployment from the Indian side. One needs the military police permission to visit the famed lakes and mountain tops. As I finished a day’s loitering around, I was stopped by an army guard. “Where are you from….”, he asks. “Sir, from Kanpur, but I’m originally from Vijayawada, Andhra Pradesh”. The guard is too happy with my answer. He hailed from the same state. In a distant land, there is something wonderful about finding someone who speaks your own language. He winks and asks me to drop by for drinks and dinner.

Since sleeping alone in my room was not very exciting, I reach the army mess quite early. The guard who invited me hands me a drink and we walk to a large dark room to watch the IPL. The match was Rajasthan Royals vs Kolkata Knight Riders. The initial support was clearly with Shah Rukh’s Riders. But Ganguly’s inability to capitalize on a start did not go down well with some of his supporters. 150, they said, was clearly not enough. The Royals got off to a good start. Graeme Smith’s dismissal to a stunning catch was met with roaring applause. As Pathan walked in I was wolfing down yummy chicken fry and parathas. It wasn’t really clear what hit the crowd after that. Pathan’s demolition of the Ganguly was met with stoic silence. Towards the end though someone conceded ,”Pathan ka tho jawaab hi nahin” (There’s no one like Pathan).

A few years ago electricity would make fleeting appearances in the town of Tawang. Today they enjoy IPL through satellite dish networks and participate in endless arguments over which team is better. I went searching for solitude, but ended up meeting some wonderful people in a beautiful land and understood why cricket is so important for this country.

Review: A Case of Exploding Mangoes by Mohammed Hanif

It is hard to pinpoint why this novel is good but not great. Maybe it is the lack of anger, maybe an overdose of satire, maybe the protagonist is not dark enough and the antagonists not wicked enough. In any case this is a valiant effort for a first timer.

Hanif's tale takes place in a Pakistani version of catch-22 airbase. Ali Shigri is a lazy, not-so-motivated, the-world-is-nuts type spectator protagonist with a dark past. The airbase itself is populated with sex-crazed, incompetent bullies. His plan is to kill the President of Pakistan, Zia-ul-Haq at a drill ceremony.

Zia is portrayed as a religious fanatic, self-obsessed, petty dictator surrounded by sycophantic generals. Like most Pakistani army men, he shares a contempt for any non-military people. Pakistan and Afghanistan are turned into arenas for ghost wars by Americans and Soviets. Political intrigue results in macabre games played by ISI and CIA. Ultimately, Zia is assasinated in a plane crash along with the American ambassador. Shigri claims he had something to do with it, or maybe it was Zia's deputy, or the CIA, or the KGB.

Credit card blues

Why is it so damn hard to get a credit card? I just had two banks (HDFC and ICICI) reject it. It doesn't make any sense. I receive atleast 2 calls everyday asking me to get a credit card. They make you supply all these ridiculous documents and then reject it for no good reason. What does a brother need to do to get a credit card around here.

Review: Descent into Chaos by Ahmed Rashid

The sixteenth chapter of this book is titled "Who lost Uzbekistan?". I wanted to look up Ahmed Rashid and say, "Oh.... you're a relentless man." Almost every incident and detail is narrated, analyzed and placed in the larger picture. I particularly enjoyed the book since it was my first brush with Central Asia (Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, Turkmenistan and Tajikistan).

Before 9/11 Afghanistan and Central Asia enjoyed very little international attention inspite of their chronic internal problems, human rights violations and lack of political freedoms. Post 9/11 though the region enjoyed enormous attention. With the US setting up bases in Pakistan and Central Asia preparing for an attack on the Taliban. Most liberal intellectuals in this region expected that this would bring a gradual political change. But with increased American funding, most of the despots moved from a position of strength to strength.

It is here that Rashid points the American failure of state building exercises. That instead of pushing the ruling elite in Pakistan and Central Asia for greater transparency and democracy, the US policy supported existing regimes to extend Pax Americana.

Musharraf and the ISI run with the rabbits and hunt with the hounds, in their search for Al Qaeda and Taliban. His domestic and foreign policies are heavily criticised and portrayed as self-serving at best. Musharraf undermines every institution of the state and portrays himself as the only man who can save Pakistan from a total collapse. The heaviest criticism though is reserved for the ISI. The orgaization first espouses the idea of jihad as a cheap way to destabilise India. But it is reluctant to destroy the funding and support for the extremist organizations, even as they become a threat to the state of Pakistan.

Afghanistan's Karzai is seen as a well intentioned but weak President. Ruling a country destroyed by decades of civil war, ethnic tensions, and warlordism is probably the toughest task for any person.

The best part of the book though is the analysis of why Pakistan is the way it is. Pakistan was created with the idea of homogenity of religion, without acknowledging the differences in ethnicity, language and region. This search for identity gave rise to a certain insecurity and paranoia about a threat from India, thus creating a national security state. Every country has an army, but in Pakistan the army has a country.

Catch-22 in Iraq

Imperial Life in the Emerald City by Rajiv Chandrasekaran tells the story first few months of the American occupation of Iraq. It would have been a thoroughly enjoyable read, if it had not been a non-fiction. The American handling of Iraq ranges from naive to arrogant, from overbearing to incompetent, from conniving to inept. The books tells the story of how the Bush administration aimed for the stars but only managed to ditch the country into chaos.

Chandraekaran's story starts immediately after toppling Saddam's statue in Baghdad. While Americans celebrated the victory, Baghdad was being looted by unruly mobs. The governments buildings are stripped bare and burnt to the ground, national museum is stolen and even the zoo animals are freed.

While the initial weeks of the country's administration is handed to ORHA (Office of Reconstruction and Humanitarian Assistance) , it is later assigned to the Coalition Provisional Authority (CPA). Bush chooses Paul Bremer, a former diplomat to head the CPA. Bremer has no knowledge of Mid-East and had never worked in a post-conflict situation. But the important thing was the fact that he was a neo-conservative and would carry out their bidding. He would have to bring democracy and free market to Iraq. The American hard sell.

The CPA's staffers are chosen not on the basis of their competence in Mid-East affairs, experience in post-conflict nation building but for their loyalty to the Republican and conservative values. To add to these problems Bremer's first two orders are the de-Bathificaton of Iraqi civil servants and the disbanding of the Iraqi Army. This drove the former army and disgruntled employees to insurgency. If that wasnt enough Bremer tries to sell off the nation's public sector companies in a clear violation of the Hague Convention.

The CPA's actions range from tragic to comic. Halliburton deems that the growing number of cats in the Green zone could carry diseases and contracts a Filipino cat killing brigade to round up all the cats and get rid of them. The Republican Palace, Saddam's home, houses a chapel with a mural of scud missile. Bacon is served for breakfast with no sensitivity to local customs.

All this would have been funny if countless Iraqi and American lives werent lost outside the Green zone. Bremer's office contains a plaque saying, "Success has many fathers." What it doesnt say is the story of the American occupation.

As one Iraqi politician confides with the writer,"The real problem with the occupation, is the occupation itself."

Review : Red Sun by Sudeep Chakravarti

Chakravarti is no Naipaul in non-fiction, but he doesn't have to be. When the story you tell is explosive, all you have to do is be subtle. Red Sun, Travels in a Naxalite Country is part travelogue, part history, part journalistic and mostly an attempt to understand the roots, causes, effects and future of Maoism in India.

On his journey Chakravarti travels to places as diverse as Dandakaranya in Chattisgarh and Manipal in Karnataka to Naxalbari in Bengal. He meets adminstrators, police, naxals, NGOs and tries to understand the reality that faces India. Naxalism is recognized today as one of the most serious internal threats to the Indian state, a perception which was articulated by none other than the PM, in his speech on 14th April, 2006.

While the Mumbai attacks and terrorism occupy the public debate in urban areas and media circles, the Government of India is conceding the administrative responsibilities in rural areas to such "para-state actors" as Maoists.

In Hyderabad, Chakravarti tell us that the famed Hi-tech City is surrounded by Naxal infested districts about 100 kms away. In a fit of anger he presents a dystopia of India where we are fragmented into city-state corridors, which are islands of prosperity in a sea of poverty. It might be an extreme view, but one that is not entirely misplaced.

Naipaul called India the land of a million mutinies. India's problem is not the existence of competing ideologies, they have always been there. But with its new found prosperity, India has emboldened many of these ideologies with resources and disenchantment at being left out. God save India if this Maoist problem is not addressed.

Review: Luck By Chance

We've seen this story before. A struggling actor and actress search their way through the film industry. In their pursuit of stardom, one compromises with ideals and another with aims. Ultimately the relationship falls apart as one finds success and the other settles for smaller dreams.

The beauty though lies in the way its told. Everything about the movie is good, starting from the titles to the gentle digs. The director who copies Hollywood movies, the producer who has no financier, the daughter of a yesteryear actress who wants to be the star, the egomaniac actor who talks about himself in third person and the watchman who smokes beside a "No Smoking" sign. They are not very different from those we saw before, but there is something extremely earnest in the portrayal of struggling aspirants.

There is a telling moment in the movie, when Hrithik playing an established star Zafar Khan looks at Farhan, an upcoming actor Vikram and asks Karan Johar "What do you think?" . Johar replies saying Vikram will replace Zafar and explains how a young director with a new idea is shunned by all established stars, finds a new face to start a cinderella story.

The same thing can be said about Hrithik and Farhan in real life. Compared to Farhan's two movies, Hrithik's attempts look jaded, bland and simply boring. The new energy he brings seems infectious.

Questions from a beach

Q: Why are there waves?
A: Well, what would the sea do without waves? Just stay there still, that would be boring.

Q: What happens after sunset?
A: The sun dips into the sea and plays with its sea friends.

Q: Let us buy a boat?
A: You say a lot of things. Buy a boat, buy the beach, buy the Arabian Sea........

Q: Can I buy some part of the Arabian Sea?
A: The Indian Government may not be interested in selling. But could consider loosing some troublesome areas. West Bengal, dare I say.

Q: Will those moral police reach Goa?
A: If they do, they will fall in love with the place and become environmentalists.

A Goan holiday

Goa is the least chaotic of Indian cities. Laid back, taking life slowly. Even the railway station is fairly spacious and finds time to play 'yeh shaam mastani' on the loudspeaker. Palm trees and feilds mark the reddened landscape. The sun and sea are the staple offerings, fish and alcohol the delicacies.

Some of Goa's soul is lost with its new found wealth and tourism. The increase in numbers of foreign and domestic tourists seem to choke the beach. The architecture in the cities is especially utilitarian and bereft of any imagination. Except for some colonial buildings there is nothing worth exploring in the urban areas.

The countryside and beaches are a different story. Oh the sea, oh the shacks, oh the sunset, just go to Goa and fall in love with the place.

Walk the Talk

Referring to President Bush's Axis of Evil speech in the US Congress, his speech-writer David Frum said, "If he had asked the US to stop being the hegemony, he would have been impeached, he probably wouldn't have gotten out of the room alive". Post 9/11 the US was a nation baying for blood. Compare that with the way two nations, India and Israel, deal with terrorism. While Israel seems bent on military solution, India has sought the diplomatic route. In Walk the Talk interview, P.Chidambaram has openly declared war is not an option. Even the print media has broad consensus that it would be easier to deal with a civilian Pakistan. The historian Ramachandra Guha called India an unnatural nation and an unlikely democracy. It wouldn't be entirely wrong to use the word 'mature' to describe our democracy.

Slumdog millionaire

Slumdog millionaire: the story of two orphans growing up in Bombay. We have seen them, Salim and Jamaal, and they are everywhere. Those urchins who beg near the traffic signals, those kids hawking cheap fruits on trains, those hungry faces who try to steal a meal at weddings, those tired eyes picking up rags from mountains of waste.

It is a story that has one of the most haunting and evocative protagonists, a modern day everyman. The greatness of the story lies in the fact that most of us can not even begin to relate to it. Yes, such poverty and inhumanness have lived right beside us all along. As we fumbled with books, worried about exams, gave interviews and wondered about investments, Salim and Jamaal receded into the stereotypes. The poor kids who turned to crime. We will never understand the horror that visits them in multitude of forms, hunger, alienation, exploitation. As we withdraw into our plush offices and gated communities, such tales of humanity will pass us by, unnoticed and unheard of.

Comparision: "Che" and Motorcycle Diaries

I recently watched "Che", Steven Soderbergh's mammoth attempt to chronicle Ernesto 'Che' Guevara's role in the Cuban revolution. The movie is a wonderful watch and has a compassionate yet unsympathetic view of the time and period. Che, unlike Soderbergh's regular glossy fare has a documentary style look to it. Soderbergh clearly refuses to indulge in heroism that is normally associated with biopics. There is an effort on the director's part to understand, why there was a revolution in the first place and what drives young men of like Che to take on these risks.

Benicio Del Toro looks and fits the part of Che. While method acting is nothing new in today's cinema, Del Toro almost natural resemblence and deep understanding of the character takes it to a new level.

Compare this with Walter Salles, "The Motorcycle Diaries". Based on the book with the same name by Che himself, is a deeply romanticized version peppered with poems by Neruda and other Latin American poets. Che, then a medical student, travels almost half way around South America to reach a Colombian leprosy camp. Along the road trip he talks to people and makes the first attempt to understand their problems. One can almost see the developing of an intellectual sureness that made him leave a perfectly serene life in Buenos Aires and fight in a distant land in the name of justice.

Che, your ideals may have been forgotten, but your life and image live on in these movies and our t-shirts.