Mutterings

On the Jaipur Literary Festival

2012-01-23T19:04:00.002+05:30

Wanting to have your cake and eat it too at the JLF

Remembering M.S.

2011-11-04T11:43:00.001+05:30

My piece on M.S. Subbulakshmi for Firstpost, written on her 95th birth anniversary, some weeks ago.

Arabhi, Devagandhari and everything in between

2011-05-26T11:12:00.006+05:30

Two of my favourite Carnatic ragas are Arabhi and Devagandhari. These are monozygotic (identical) twins that behave like they are fraternal (di-zygotic). In other words, they have exactly the same DNA - Sa Ri Ma Pa Dha Sa - Sa Ni Dha Pa Ma Ga Ri Sa (in Shankarabharanam Melakartha) - but are in character completely different and equally pleasing.

Arabhi is typically sung at a brisk-ish pace. If any raga embodies verve, it is this. And yet it has a strangely calming effect on the psyche. The notes are short, and improvisation, the raga is conducive to the use of "jantai-swaras" (as in the same swara repeated pa-pa ma ga ri , dha-dha pa ma pa, ri-ri ma ga ri sa ri-ri etc.). Ga and Ni are weak notes, and at times Ni can even be dispensed with. The most famous / popular of compositions in Arabhi is of course Sadinchane, one of Thyagaraja's Pancharatna kritis. The piece that got me into Arabhi was Maharajapuram Santhanam's rendition of Thyagaraja's Jutamu rare which you can listen to here.

Devagandhari is the inverse - it's use of expansive, relaxed notes has an immediately comforting influence on you, but the same long notes have a grandeur that can elevate you to goose-bumps and create an "aha" moment quite unexpectedly. Ga and Ni are far more prominent, than in Arabhi. Thyagaraja, again, is the master of this raga. His Ksheerasagara Shayana is a great example of his work in this raga - notice the correspondence of the long, expansive notee (pa) in "sagara" portion of the phrase Khseerasagara -you can almost imagine the ocean in front of you, right up to the horizon. Similarly, you can't help think that it is no coincidence that Thyagaraja uses expansive notes to correspond to the vastness of the "varana raja" (the elephant king Gajendra).You can listen to Balamurali Krishna's rendition here. It is very rare to hear swara improvisations of Devagandhari, precisely because it is so difficult to distinguish it from Arabhi. It has been said that it is impossible to sing a "tanam" in Devagandhari, but Neyveli Santhanagopalan has supposedly done so in a train journey (incidentally, train journies play an important role in Carnatic music folklore...many magical renditions have allegedly taken place to the aadi tala beat of the Indian Railways). I hope he does it again on a concert platfrom or recording at some point.

However, the distinction between the two ragas is not really all that clear-cut. I recently came across a rendition of Na Moralanu Vini in Arabhi (Thyagaraja, again) by Balamurali Krishna, that is so immediately soothing that you could be fooled into thinking that it is in Devagandhari. You can listen to a partial version here. And supririsngly for Semmangudi, he sings the Devagandhari piece Vinarada Na Manavi (Thyagaraja) at such an energetic pace, that it could be Arabhi. Though by the time he gets to the phrase "Kanakanga Cauvery Ranga Shri", again corresponding to an expanse of water, Devagandhari reasserts itself. You can listen to his rendition here.

Why Ekaika?

2011-05-23T18:46:00.003+05:30

There are a few ragas in Carnatic music called “Ekaika” ragas. These are ragas in which only one composition exists. Some of the more well known ones are Chintamani, Chittaranjani, Rasali, Kaikavasi and Supradeepam. The question is, why do they exist?

From a theoretical standpoint, the concept of an ekaika raga is invalid - who is to know whether the second ever krithi in the raga Chintamani (Devi Brova is the krithi in this raga, by Shyama Shastri) has been composed or not? Maybe it has been, by me, for my own musical pleasure. So immediately, the definition is qualified to “a raga in which only one known composition exists”.

There are a few possible reasons for ekaika ragas to exist. One may argue that no one since Shyama Shastri had the technical nous to be able to create another krithi in Chintamani. This argument can be dismissed, because we have since had many technically capable composers, and still do (like Balamurali Krishna, who in his most maverick avatar created 3-note ragas). Another possibility for the continuing ekaika status of these ragas is that they are not “good enough” to have us wanting more. Anyone who has head Doraiswamy Iyengar’s rendition of Thyagaraja’s Vachama Gocharame in Kaikavasi will disagree

So why then, do we have these pleasing ragas, in such spectacularly limited doses? What does their existence say about those who sing, compose and imbibe Carnatic music?

First, a penchant for quirkiness. Isn’t it just so cool that these ragas exist? What a beautifully romantic and slightly sad notion – such an exquisite creation, and just one sample! Imagine if Thyagaraja had not composed Vachama Gocharame - the world would not have know the grandeur of Kaikavasi! We love quirks (of fate, or otherwise), and ekaika ragas are decidedly quirky. Think of it this way - ekaika ragas make for good quiz questions and Carnatic music enthusiasts (by and large) have the midset of quizzers.

Dig a little deeper, and we encounter reverence - who is revered in the Carnatic music sphere and why? Put yourself in the shoes of one of Carnatic music's contenporary stars - a Sanjay or a Krishna. If they were to create a second offering in an ekaika raga, they are most likely to create a stir. "That upstart- who do they think they are to mess with Thyagaraja, creating a new composition in Chittaranjani - wasn't Nada Tanum Anisham good enough?". We don't like to mess with our trinities (of any sort - Thyagaraja-Dikshitar-Shyama Shastri, MS-MLV-DKP). What if Balamurali Krishna attempted the same thing? Well, he would not have gotten away with it 30 or 40 years ago, but now that he is literally the eldest statesman (a mantle bestowed upon him after Semmangudi's passing), we may grudgingly give him his due. But the new composition would have to be sung a million times on stage by established "stars" for it to be acknowledged as such.

Which brings me to the other reverance that saves Ekaika from oblivion. We tend to revere humility, even if it is false. Many tributes to M.D.Ramanathan, a fine singer and composer, note that while composed numerous compositions, he did not tend to sing them himself on the concert stage (this is not entirely true - he sang his Hariyum Haranum in raga Atana quite often). As a rule, we expect our heroes and heroines not to trumpet themselves. Sticking with MDR, his beautiful Sagara Shayana Vibho in Bhageshri was acknowledged as a masterpiece only when others like his good friend KV Narayanawamy started singing it on stage. So anyone attempting to break the Ekaika status of a raga must not only overcome the perceived disrespect shown to the original Master (e.g. Thyagaraja) but must also get some other singer (of suitable stature) to publicise his new composition on the stage. And look humble while going about this business - a tough ask in a tweeting world.

Anna Hazare's tantrum

2011-04-08T10:45:00.007+05:30

The last few days have seen an outpouring of support for Anna Hazare's "movement". Apparently 25 lakh folk have pledged support on line (where, I am not sure), the media is full of folk like Anupam Kher casting a suspicious eye at those who do not support Anna wholheartedly, everyone from Sonia Gandhi to Kapil Sibal are referring to "Anna-ji" and "Arvind-ji", and I have received emails from fellow alumni from b-school urging each other to go on a one day fasts. There is loose talk of Jantar Mantar = Tahrir, and even looser talk of the whole movement led by Anna-ji being true democracy. Anna Hazare's actions force us to contemplate certain key questions. First, is a hunger strike always a democratic act? A hunger strike is an effective tool for protest, but is it necessarily democratic? Our favourite defence of hunger strikes is that the Mahatma was a votary. When Ambdekar wanted a separate electorate for Scheduled Castes and Tribes, Gandhi went on a fast to death until Ambedkar relented and settled for reserved constituencies. Gandhi essentially blackmailed his way to what he wanted. (As Ambedkar would joke later, it took a Dalit to save the Mahatma, and a Brahmin to kill him). It was not a democratic act on his part - he was as a child throwing a tantrum. If a hunger strike is always a valid vehicle for change, what if I, Vishnu Vasudev, went on hunger strike demanding lower income tax rates. Is this an equally valid "movement". No? Why not? Is it because:

I am not as famous as Anna Hazare, and Anna is closer to Mahatma-dom

What I want is not unequivocally "good"

I don't have 25 lakh pledges online

NDTV doesn't give a damn what I do

All of the above

If your answer is 1), that means that not everyone is created equal under our constitution. If Kapil Sibal won't bother to visit me when I go on a hunger strike, it is not clear why he should Anna-ji. If your answer is 2), it begs the question - who is to decide what a "good" cause is? Anna Hazare is demanding that the Committee to draft / re-draft the Lok Pal bill, comprise of both MPs and representatives from "civil society" with himself as Chairman. Who ensures that the representatives from "civil society" are the "right" ones? Anna-ji. Why? Because otherwise he may die. We used to have another way of electing representatives to draft legislation - elections. If your answer is 3), then how many are good enough? What of the thousands of farmers who descended on Delhi late last year to demand that their land not be snatched from them? The reportage of the event was focused on which highways and railway lines (that people like us use) were closed because of them - nothing about what was being done to address their concerns. Who has decided that 25 lakh middle class people count for a quorum, whereas thousands of farmers (who may not have online access) do not? What about the hundreds of farmers in Vidharba, who do not even need to go on a hunger strike to die of hunger? Did we find Kapil Sibal bending over backwards to meet their needs? If your answer is 4), I rest my case.

What are the alternatives? if corruption is such a big issue, then we would only vote in representatives who promise to make an effective Lok Pal bill a priority. If it were such a big deal, the Congress and the BJP would support a Lok Pal bill not because Anna-ji may die, but because they will face political death in the next elections. If they can get away with not doing anything about corruption, then that is simply too bad. What are the alternatives? Benevolent dictatorship? As annointed by whom? Anna Hazare? Why? Because otherwise he will starve to death? Let us be enraged, let us protest, and let's hope for the best, but let us not be taken in by self starvation. Imagine a hundred different hunger strikers, each demanding something different - where would we be then? What if all the naxalites laid down their arms and demanded anarchy through hunger strikes? What do we do then - let them die, because we were going to kill them any way?

A hunger strike is a tantrum, and the antithesis of democracy. And this democracy is the best we've got. Let's make it better, but not through subversion.

Alternate flag-hoisting sites for the BJYM

2011-01-25T17:44:00.002+05:30

We now know that it requires a tri-colour hoisted by the Bharatiya Janata Yuva Morcha members from the countryside for any place (chowk or other wise, of any hue) to be considered an integral part of India. With this in mind, here are a few venues for the BJYM to integrate post haste:

Binayak Sen's cell - to welcome him back to India from the arms of British anti-sedition laws
Mylapore, Chennai - in the hope that a sufficient number of locals consider learning a sufficient amount of Hindi so that our local-language-averse Hindi brethren feel comfortable enough to venture into Karpagambal Mess and eat the best ever badam halwa
IIMs, ISB - in the hope of more India-relevant case studies
IITs - to reverse whatever remains of the brain drain
Somewhere in Switzerland - whereever it's black
Goa - to reclaim from the Russia
Bombay - to reclaim from MNS
The whole of the north-east - (ha, you forgot about them didn't you?)

The art of the self-reflective tribute

2011-01-25T15:33:00.005+05:30

Yesterday saw the passing of Bhimsen Joshi, a musician who made wonderful, accessible, Hindustani music and worked very hard to be able to make it. As was expected, the media scrambled to find Hindustani musicians who knew him to say something meaningful about his music, his life, his uniqueness.

Unfortunately, Hindustani musicians (perhaps all Indian musicians, perhaps all Indians) thrive in the art of basking in reflected glory, especially that of a dead giant. I would like to say that they are adept at this art form, but they go about it in too unsubtle a manner for this to be true. And so we had Jasraj mention on NDTV that once on a train journey together Bhimsen Joshi had proclaimed that when he looks in the rear view mirror, he sees Jasraj coming.

Then there is this front page tribute in the Hindustan Times by Amjad Ali Khan. Amjad Ali Khan works very hard in the piece to establish first that Bhimsen Joshi had very close ties with his family - he stayed in their home, learned the intricacies of Marwa and Puriya from Khan's father, would perform private concerts at the request of Khan's wife, considered Khan to be a "guru-bhai", and thought highly enough of Khan's music to consistently invite him to the Sawai Gandharva festival. And second, he establishes that he is a caring person - he called Bhimsen Joshi's house when he learned that he was unwell and could "feel the ecstasy of joy and happiness in his (Bhimsen Joshi's) voice", and he visited Bhimsen Joshi in the hospital on the day of his death "though he was the ventilator and in a sad health condition", and by the way, he was in Pune at the time because he had a concert performance. There is nothing in the tribute that cannot be established with a Wiki-search, that is not about Amjad Ali Khan and his family, or that is not banal ("end of an era", "Kohinoor", "monumental icon"). The closest he gets is to say that Bhimsen Joshi's major personality traits were simplicity and humility, but he does not expand on these. (Amjad Ali Khan's tribute to Vilayat Khan follows a similar pattern).

Shiv Kumar Sharma's tribute in Mint is a whole lot better - he gives numerous examples to back up his claim that "Like a rishi, Pandit Bhimsen Joshi was egoless". But even he cannot resist establishing that the last public appearance by Bhimsen Joshi was as late as last month, when he stealthily listened to Shivkumar Sharma's concert from a parked car.

I am being harsh on these maestros. After all, any meaningful tribute must be anchored in the personal. I just wish they would spend less time establishing their bonafides (by definition already established by their authorship of the tribute) and more time on their subjects, or at least what they learned from observing and being with their subjects (How, for example, has Amjad Ali Khan's sarod playing been enriched by his close association with his guru-bhai?). And it would not hurt to assimilate some of the humility that they so often extol.

The Gutka Ruling

2010-12-10T15:11:00.007+05:30

In the past week or so there had been a lot of attention about what the Supreme Court has had to say about 2G - tapes, CBI, etc. A ruling by the same court this week has escaped the attention it deserves. On December 6, the Court ruled (in an interim manner) that gutka and pan will not be sold in plastic sachets from March 2011. In brief, this was what the case was about. There are many problems with the ruling - it is illogical, dishonest, and elitist.

It is not clear on what basis the ruling was made. Typically, one expects the Supreme Court to either interpret legislated law, and at times, decide whether such a law is fundamentally unconstitutional. Sometimes, like in the Ayodhya case, which was technically a title suit, it does not base its ruling on either law or the consititution, but on the imperative for a "pragmatic solution". It seems to have taken the same wishy-washy approach in this case, but Gutka is not Ram.

Is the plastic packaging for gutka being banned because it is bad for the environment, or because gutka is bad for health? It is not clear, and this is the problem. On the face of it, it is for environmental reasons, because it is the packaging that has been banned. Yet, the bench has ignored findings from an inter-ministerial committee that claims that plastic packaging may in fact be more carbon efficient than the alternatives. (A environmental cost benefit analysis between carbon efficiency at biodegradability would be interesting). And the comments of at least one of the judges clearly indicate that his concern is public health (and incidentally, "national culture" and corruption), not the environment. Since the case was brought forward on on environmental grounds, the Court should have either a) dismissed the case because there is no law against plastic packaging, b)dismissed the case because no one's constitutional rights are being violdated by the littering of gutka packets, c)dismissed the case for lack of evidence, or d) reserved judgement until more evidence was made available. Instead, it has illogically banned plastic because gutka is bad for health.

Therefore it is also a dishonest ruling - shutting down gutka trade through the back door.

The ruling is also elitist. Let us make the assumption that plastic packaging of consumables is in fact terrible for the environment. Let us also assume that the Indian Asthma Care Society had filed a suit not against gutka, but against Haldiram or Lays, who also packet their goodies in plastic packets and sell on the roadside - would the bench have reached the same verdict? I think not. What about cosmetic firms that sell creams and moisturises in 100 ml doses in plastic containers? (Why for that matter did the IACS limit their PIL to gutka manufacturers and not include shampoo, also sold in plastic sachets?). The bench simply does not identify with gutka consumers, and would surely not have had the courage to take on an industry patronised by people like us. Arguably, gutka packets are more prone to being thrown on the street, where as Lays packets and Ponds containersmake their way to a landfill via our dustbins. Even then, is it more tolerable to create giant landfills in the outskirts of cities where we don't live than to litter the streets in which we do? If so, don't those living near the landfills also deserve the Court's concern? The ruling, rather than showing empathy for the masses whose health it so cares about is displaying the very opposite through this ruling.

So there we have it - an interim verdict that is illogical, dishonest and elitist.

The kind of writing we can do without

2010-06-07T12:02:00.005+05:30

I was forwarded the following article on email. A Google search reveals that it was published by the Financial Express a couple of years ago:

Why India needs Narendra Modi?
Suhel Seth

Let me begin with a set of disclosures: I have perhaps written more articles against Modi and his handling of the post-Godhra scenario than most people have; I have called him a modern-day Hitler and have always said that Godhra shall remain an enduring blemish not just on him but on India’s political class. I still believe that what happened in Gujarat during the Godhra riots is something we as a nation will pay a heavy price for. But the fact is that time has moved on. As has Narendra Modi. He is not the only politician in India who has been accused of communalism. It is strange that the whole country venerates the Congress Party as the secular messiah but it was that party that presided over the riots in 1984 in which over 3,500 Sikhs died: thrice the number killed in Gujarat.

The fact of the matter is that there is no better performer than Narendra Modi in India’s political structure. Three weeks ago, I had gone to Ahmedabad to address the YPO and I thought it would be a good opportunity to catch up with Modi. I called him the evening before and I was given an appointment for the very day I was getting into Ahmedabad. And it was not some official meeting but instead one at his house. As frugal as the man Modi is.

And this is something that the Gandhis and Mayawatis need to learn from Modi. There were no fawning staff members; no secretaries running around; no hangers on…just the two of us with one servant who was there serving tea. And what was most impressive was the passion which Modi exuded. The passion for development; the passion for an invigorated Gujarat; the passion for the uplifting the living standards of the people in his state and the joy with which he recounted simple yet memorable data-points. For instance, almost all of the milk consumed in Singapore is supplied by Gujarat; or for that matter all the tomatoes that are eaten in Afghanistan are produced in Gujarat or the potatoes that Canadians gorge on are all farmed in Gujarat. But it was industry that was equally close to his heart.

It was almost like a child, that he rushed and got a coffee table book on GIFT: the proposed Gujarat Industrial City that will come up on the banks of the Sabarmarti: something that will put the Dubais and the Hong Kongs of this world to shame. And while on the Sabarmati, it is Modi who has created the inter-linking of rivers so that now the Sabarmati is no longer dry.
He then spoke about how he was very keen that Ratan Tata sets up the Nano plant in Gujarat: he told me how he had related the story of the Parsi Navsari priests to Ratan and how touched Ratan was: the story is, when the Navsari priests, (the first Parsis) landed in Gujarat, the ruler of Gujarat sent them a glass of milk, full to the brim and said, there was no place for them: the priests added some sugar to the milk and sent it back saying that they would integrate beautifully with the locals and would only add value to the state.

Narendra Modi is clearly a man in a hurry and he has every reason to be. There is no question in any one’s mind that he is the trump card for the BJP after Advani and Modi realises that. People like Rajnath Singh are simply weak irritants I would imagine. He also believes that the country has no apolitical strategy to counter terrorism and in fact he told me how he had alerted the Prime Minister, the Home Minister and the NSA about the impending bomb blasts in Delhi and they did not take him seriously. And then the September 13 blasts happened! It was this resolve of Modi’s that I found very admirable. There is a clear intolerance of terrorism and terrorists which is evident in the way the man functions; now there are many cynics who call it minority-bashing but the truth of the matter is that Modi genuinely means business as far as law and order is concerned.

I left Modi’s house deeply impressed with the man as Chief Minister: he was clearly passionate and what’s more deeply committed. When I sat in the car, I asked my driver what he thought of Modi and his simple reply was Modi is God. Before him, there was nothing. No roads, no power, no infrastructure. Today, Gujarat is a power surplus state. Today, Gujarat attracts more industry than all the states put together. Today, Gujarat is the preferred investment destination for almost every multi-national and what’s more, there is an integrity that is missing in other states.

After I finished talking to the YPO (Young President’s Organisation) members, I asked some of them very casually, what they thought of Modi. Strangely, this was one area there was no class differential on. They too said he was God.

But what they also added very quickly was if India has just five Narendra Modis, we would be a great country. I don’t know if this was typical Gujarati exaggeration or a reflection of the kind of leadership India now needs! There is however, no question in my mind, that his flaws apart, Narendra Modi today, is truly a transformational leader! And we need many more like him!

It is unfortunate that this article was ever published. And it is unfortunate that the author, for whatever reason, is widely read and televised, and presumably respected. This article has too many flaws - irrelevant facts, inaccurate facts, lack of nuance, wild leaps of logic and the conflation of personal ego and public good - to be ignored.

Let's begin at the beginning. Starting off with a "set of disclosures" was a nice little trick to get reasonable people to continue reading. Note that Seth has called Modi a Hitler and still wants five more of them. Rather than building the author's credibility, this opening set of disclosures ought have the opposite effect.

Next, for an irrelevant fact. Yes, over 3,500 Sikhs died in the 1984 riots. Yes, the Congress was in Government. Does this have anything to do with whether we need Narendra Modi? No. At best, it reiterates the fact that India does not need more Jagdish Tytlers or Sajjan Kumars.

Now we will convert an opinion into a fact by simply labelling it as one: "The fact of the matter is that there is no better performer than Narendra Modi in India’s political structure."

To back up this fact, let's get cozy and comfortable. I, Suhel Seth, know Modi well enough to "catch up" with him. He is such a nice man that he gives me an appointment at the drop of a hat (never mind pressing matters of governance). Not only that, even though I am a private citizen visiting in no official capacity, he did not have any officials present at our meeting! Wow! And he had someone serve me tea. Since you, my dear reader, respect me enough to read my columns, and since Mr. Modi was so nice to me, he simply must be the best performer in India's political structure.

Note that the only thingthat Seth wants Mayawati and the Gandhis to learn from Modi is frugality in their personal lives. Why? Does the number of servants Seth employs in his household make him better or worse in what he does for a living (whatever that may be)?

If that is not enough to convince you, Seth lazily and gullibly reproduces "simple yet memorable datapoints". Do all the potatoes that Canadians gorge on come from Gujarat? No. Do they even all come from India? No. Does almost all the milk that Singaporeans drink come from Gujarat? No.

The next datapoint documenting Modi's achievements? A coffee table book on a development that may or may not be completed, which may or may not put Hong Kong and Dubai to shame, and which may or may not prove to be financially viable.

And to finish, we have the unsaid implication. The driver, and a a group of "Young Presidents" (who must be reasonable people since they want to listen to Seth) think Modi is God. Hence, he must be. Never mind that at some point in time, every man, woman and child alive believed that the Earth was flat.

Some characteristics of Modi may be worthy of emulation. India may need more Modis. But for none of the "reasons" provided by Suhel Seth.

The Art of Denial

2010-06-07T11:50:00.002+05:30

Mr. Pawar has been in the news lately, denying any links to IPL, and specifically, the failed bid for the Pune team by City Corporation, of which Mr. Pawar and family own a stake.

Here are excerpts of his denial, as reported by The Hindu on June 4:

Speaking to journalists here, Mr. Pawar said, “Neither I nor any of my family members are directly or indirectly involved in any IPL team.''

He said the board of City Corporation (in which he and his family have a 16.22 per cent shareholding) had taken a unanimous decision not to be involved in the IPL bidding process. “The Managing Director, Mr. A. Deshpande was eager to be associated with the bidding process so the board allowed him to do so in his individual capacity. He was allowed to use the name of City Corporation.''

What? So it's okay to lend a balance sheet?

And the clincher (from the same article):

Dismissing suggestions that Mr. Deshpande was used as a proxy, Mr. Pawar said had he been interested, the company would not have lost the bid.

That is the most original defence in a long time - "I'm a fixer".

Mr. Pawar desperately needs someone to vet his statements.

Dhanyasi

2010-02-03T00:41:00.002+05:30

The story of Dhanyasi is subtle. Neither gifted nor ordinary, neither effortless nor laboured, neither royal nor of the slums. Not to mistaken for middle of the road - definitely opinionated and emphatic, and with a natural intelligence and beauty.

A self aware raga that works to accenuate its strengths and lives to please you. Dhanyasi lulls you into believing that you are in control and that she/he/it (depending on your mood)is playing to your whims - plaintive, courageous, encouraging, inspirational, soothing, soothsaying, aggressive, sombre or hopeful (though never overtly cheerful).

In fact, Dhanyasi has played you through and through like a master puppeteer. You notice the strings attached only in hindsight. She is the free spirit that pretends to be kept.

Being a sucker has never been more exquisite.

Reserved for Servants et al.

2010-01-26T21:07:00.004+05:30

I am back to consulting which means that I now spend most of my week in Bombay, while continuing to live in Delhi. Which means that I am necessarily also back to the "Bombay vs. Delhi" debate. My intention in this post is not to delve into this vast and cliched topic but to let you know of my first, limited, likely naive, sense of Bombay - that it has an egalitarian outlook. An outlook that is apparent in many small ways:

On a previous visit, I took an autorickshaw from the airport to a meeting. There were a whole bunch of folks in suits and ties taking autos. Part of the reason I took the auto was that I was told it would be the quickest way to my destination through the traffic. Nevertheless, this is in direct contrast to my experience in Hyderabad where I was made to get down with all my luggage about a kilometre or two away from the swanky new terminal building - I almost missed my flight because Hyderabad thought it was unbecoming of the global city to have lowly autos in the vicinity of their new jewel.

There is a chaiwalla on the pavement next to the office building I work in. Next to him is a dosa corner, 2 cigarrette shops, and vendors of vada paav, pakodas and all sorts of other goodies. The chaiwalla serves taxi drivers and senior vice presidents who all appreciate the chai for what it is - a break from work, a temporary change of scene, and a tasty drink. I would find it hard to believe that the brain behind this Crabtree advertisement was from Mumbai (where else were the couple planning to have their tea?)

We stay in a serviced apartment- a sort of guesthouse with a caretaker. It is in a 19 storey apartment block serviced by precisely two elevators. Amazingly, there is a sign proclaiming that one of the elevators is reserved for servants, newspaper boys, cleaners, vendors and other public. Residents were explicitly disallowed from using one of only two elevators in the building while servants were implictly allowed to use either. Try imagining that in Delhi!

Water Bombs the Moon

2009-10-09T18:52:00.002+05:30

The announcement of the discovery of water on the moon in end September was widely celebrated. Very little water was discovered– far less prevalent than on even the driest place on earth, and not in free form but bound up with minerals. A great feat of technology. And surely a significant finding.

Significant, yes, but why? We paid scant attention to the scientific implications of the finding (a possible rethink of the way in which the Earth and Moon were formed). Nor were we enveloped with renewed humility (we are discovering water only now, and we thought we knew our buddy the Moon very well). Surprisingly, the buzz wasn’t even about the possibility of discovering water-supported life forms on the moon. Rather, the buzz was about us - we will colonise, we will refuel, we will establish our bases, we will take, we will use, we will capitalise.

The first act of any colonisation is inevitably violence – and today, the Moon witnessed its first. NASA’s LCROSS probe launched a rocket into the Moon, before crashing itself on the lunar scape. The idea is for LCROSS to analyse the moon dust created by the first explosion for water vapour, on its way down.

The explosion was designed to create an estimated 250 metric tonnes of moon dust with the plumes visible through midsized off-the-shelf telescopes on earth. The Moon deserves better. And the Earth deserves our attention.

Bush has won the Nobel Peace Prize 2009...

2009-10-09T15:42:00.007+05:30

...for Obama. Or how else does one explain the decision?

In the past, the prize has occasionally been given for achievements, such as to Gorbachev for ending the Cold War, to Arafat, Peres and Rabin for signing a peace deal, to de Klerk and Mandela for ending apartheid. In certain cases, the achievement of peace is not on the horizon, and so the prize has been awarded to acknowledge a lifetime's effort and to provide momentum, a la the Dalai Lama and Aung San Suu Kyi. The committee has also strayed into areas unrelated to peace, notably by giving Al Gore a share of the 2007 prize for making a entertaining presentation on global warming (notwithstanding the thought that if all of us were to fry, there would at long last be peace on Earth).

And now, Mr. Obama. Why? Because he has "created a new climate in international politics". Because "Multilateral diplomacy has regained a central position, with emphasis on the role that the United Nations and other international institutions can play". Because "His diplomacy is founded in the concept that those who are to lead the world must do so on the basis of values and attitudes that are shared by the majority of the world's population." And because of "his extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and co-operation between peoples".

In other words, because if you're not with him, you are not necessarily against him. Because the US President is being a reasonable statesman again. Because he is not Bush.

Obama owes his election to the presidency to Bush - how else does one win on the single point agenda of "hope"? And now he's won himself a Nobel Peace Prize after 8 months of nothing but hoping - to quote the Committee one last time - "Only very rarely has a person to the same extent as Obama captured the world's attention and given its people hope for a better future"

Austere Posture

2009-09-22T18:24:00.005+05:30

As public relations initiatives go, the Congress Party’s Austerity Drive has been daft, or at least, oddly conceived. The apparent aim is to show solidarity for the millions of farmers, suffering in times of desiccation. The intended audience for this great act is the great middle class, that is if anything, feeling flamboyant in the festive season. And the channels of communication are media outlets not best known for restraint.

There are two main problems with the entire exercise. First, austere-ness, as with all states of being, is a relative concept. Much like slimness is best appreciated when compared with the previously rotund silhouette, the newly austere being is immediately contrasted with the previously non-austere version, replete with fancy parties, first class travel and Gucci. Now what good is that for the Neta’s image?

The second problem is an age-old one, most recently faced by W – the elusive nature of an exit plan. When will it be okay to stop being austere? What’s the benchmark – rainfall, GDP, fewer than 200 farmer suicides (per month or per year)? If the farmers stop killing themselves, and the ministers go back to business class, does that mean that they have no empathy for policemen who continue to be killed by naxals, or children who die from malnutrition? Perhaps the logical end point is when India wins the Hockey World Cup next, or Rakhi Sawant goes off the air.

And what of the poor Indian peasant in whose name this Great Empathy? I’d be surprised if he can recognise a single national politician. In the rare event that he is aware of the austerity drive, he is probably filled with indifference, insult or both. He is being openly mocked by the politician who chooses his ‘hardships’ like he would luxury goods. Imagine Obama dressing up like a homeless man at a White House Halloween party.

Who was Pattammal?

2009-07-17T14:29:00.010+05:30

I had a weekly radio show on Indian classical music(really an intranet podcast)on ISB Radio. I named it "Who is Pattammal?". D.K. Pattammal passed away yesterday, aged 90, most likely with a smile on her face.

The choice of the name for my show was a gimmick. I wanted to do better than the bland 'Ragamalika', the name of my radio show at Middlebury College a decade earlier. I wanted the name to be ear-catching and imply that there was something in it for the inherently curious but musically tuned-out. I instinctively decided to include the name of a female carnatic vocalist, the breed of classical musician that the general populace was least likely to have encountered. The great trinity of women artists in Carnatic music was M.S. Subbulakshmi (MS), M.L.Vasanthakumari (MLV) and D.K. Pattammal (DKP). The first two names were simply too long, and so with a silent apology, I had Patammal join my marketing team.

I cannot claim that she is my favourite musician, even among the three great women. If I were on my deathbed, I would certainly choose to be soothed by MS's empathetic voice. And I have often been surprised and invigorated by the imagination and virtuosity of MLV. DKP's music on the other hand is a bit of an acquired taste. Her voice was once naturally sweet but in most recordings (in the later years) it is low and gravelly - you get the impression that she really has to work with it. Her pronunciations while always correct are at times harsh, especially on the the consonants. Her music is no-nonsense and exact, never aiming to please, and verging on bland.

Verging on, yes, but never dull or boring. There is a joyful, urgent, and emphatic energy that seeps through every exact note. It is as though her music is Carnatic Music, as it wants to be, not for the Gods, not for the audiences, but for itself, and perhaps, Pattammal. The complete lack of pretension, or extraneous intent, in Pattamal's music makes it surprisingly captivating. Having acquired a taste for her style, I acquired a love for ragas that I had previously considered 'heavy' and avoidable only after listening to her renditions of them.

It is not clear whether it was her music made her the person that she was, or vice versa. She was, on all accounts, an angel. Laughing, smiling, welcoming,humble and always eager to share her knowledge, wisdom and experiences. In retrospect, she was the perfect talisman for a fledgling radio show on classical music - forthright and formidable without being intimidating.

You can read more about D.K. Pattammal here

What I Owe Ali Akbar Khan (1922 - 2009)

2009-06-19T21:53:00.010+05:30

I went to Middlebury College when I was eighteen with about eleven cassette tapes and two CDs. One of them was a recording of Ali Akbar Khan on the sarod from the AIR archives - ragas Pilu and Durga. (I would grow especially fond of the latter raga a year later, once I met an enchanting girl of the same name).

My love for Indian classical music developed over a long time in stops and starts. It began in fact with Ceralac tins that I would drag out of the store room and bang everytime there was a carnatic concert on on Doordarshan. My parents hoped to channelise this cacophony into the form of a mini-mridangam bought for my fifth birthday. I gamely learned to play the mridangam for three years, though in retrospect I probably wasn't ready for the regimented lessons - I was respectful of the art, but there was little love.

In the meantime, my father continued to sing in the stairwells, and I continued to go to concerts with my parents and grandparents. While at boarding school in Rishi Valley for three years, I tried to go for singing lessons. But peer pressure was high, and I was trying to fit in. To openly admit that I was going for singing classes rather than P.E. in the morning would have been social disaster and so the experiment was quickly dropped within a week. It was only after school, during the year at Loyola College that I ended up taking carnatic music lessons - gently coaxed by my parents, and with my buddy Hari for company. Hari is always sufficiently enthusiastic and irreverant in new new ventures, and surprisingly there were at least four other lads of our age (or older) taking beginner's lessons with us - one of them was a Frenchman had come all the way from the Reunion Islands to learn Carnatic music in Madras. It was great fun.

After a year of this and half a dozen or so varnams and countless geethams, I set off for Middlebury. It is only in Middlebury that I began understanding what I enjoyed about the music I loved listening to. I'm not sure exactly why I became such an active listener at this point. Maybe it was the year of singing lessons that whetted my appetite to know more. Perhaps 18 is the age at which my mind could start demanding of itself with confidence. Perhaps it was the urge to explain myself to others in a foreign and cold place that led me to try and understand what I love. Largely, though, I think the reason is far more mundane - the Middlebury College Music Library.

This magnificent spot had a bunch of little cubicles, each with a music system and humongous headphones. It had a huge collection of Indian classical music - both Hindustani and Carnatic, perhaps over 300 CDs. They were largely of foreign music labels. This is important. You see, we in India, at least at the time, were terrible at documenting our music. The CD or cassette jackets gave you very little, usually incorrect information. Here's an example of lazy notes writing, from HMV Marga's Milestones series - a recording of MD Ramanathan's. The jacket notes say: "Hariyum Haranam is a composition of Sri Varadadasa in praise of Siva and Vishnu, and their side as in Raga Atana and Tala Rupakam". Apart from the vagueness of the phrase "and their side", the incorrect use of "as in", and the mis-spelling of 'Haranum' as 'Haranam', the main problem with the sentence is that there is no one called 'Sri Varadadasa'. 'Varadadasa' is the signature phrase of M.D. Ramanathan himself - the song, as I later learnt is one of his finest and most popular achievements as a composer.

On the the other hand the sleeve notes from foreign labels were packed with information - about the music, its origins, its theory, its forms, the musicians, their uniqueness of styles, the ragas, their notes, the differences, the nuances. And all of this in fairly accessible language. One of the first such CDs from the library collection that I devoured was Nonesuch's release of a Ramnad Krishnan recording with some wonderful ragas - Kanada, Begada, Madhyamavati and a ragam tanam pallavi in Bhairavi. It was this ability to immediately associate what I liked about a composition and its rendition with what I knew about it that spurred me on to listen longer, to listen widely and to listen actively.

The fact that foreign record labels were interested in recording and documenting our music, and that the Middlebury College in the little New England state of Vermont had invested so much in disemminating ragas (it had a wonderful concert series, and I got to watch Ali Akbar Khan live for about $5)was largely due to Ali Akbar Khan.

Ali Akbar Khan was the first Indian musician to record a Western LP. He visited the US as early as 1955 with the violinist Yehudi Menhuin who declared him the 'greatest musician in the world'. While Ravi Shankar rocked on at Woodstock, Ali Akbar Khan had already set up his music school in the Bay area, where he would settle in the later part of his life. He toured and played, married thrice, fathered eleven children, recorded and taught, created ragas, all with minimal fuss. I was told that he was a pleasure to host at Middlebury - all he asked for was a pizza delivery number.

So I owe Ali Akbar Khan many, many, many hours of pleasure in music, and not just from his sarod.

You can listen to some of Ali Akbar Khan's music here

'Rahul Ji' and the Nature of Congress's Youth

2009-05-17T16:08:00.004+05:30

This clearly has been Rahul's Moment. Consequently, there is much speculation on what role Rahul and his Youth Brigade will continue to play in the party, and the Government. A case is being made for a large infusion youth in the Cabinet.

Which may be a fine idea, but maybe not. Being young is no more a signal of comptence than being tall, or bespectacled or coming from corporate India. Meera Sanyal and Captain Gopi were being very patronising by saying "I am from corporate India, and therefore I am more honest, sincere and capable than any politician at running a country". I know that based on his track record at Deccan, I would not have voted for Captain Gopi. So it may well be that some of the youth brigade indeed have bright ideas, know how to get things done, and are honest, but I know plenty of young fellas who are none of these.

The other striking aspect of the list of Congress's young Turks are their stalwart last names - Scindia (Jyotiraditya, son of Madhavrao), Deora (Milind, son of Murali), Dutt (Priya, daughter of Sunil), Pilot (Sachin, son of Rajesh), Prasada (Jitin, son of Jitendra), Dikshit (Sandeep, son of Sheila) and of course Gandhi.

There are also other Congress young guns like Minakshi Natarajan who did not ride on their last names into politics. So the question is, is the Star Youth Brigade serious in their agenda of inpiring more Natarajans and bringing about a new, honest, accountable, hopeful politics, or are 'Youth' and Rahul convenient planks on which to fast-track their own careers?

The jury's out. Yesterday, though, while talking to news anchors, Jyotiraditya Scindia (age 38) consistently referred to Rahul Gandhi (age 38)as 'Rahul-ji'. New brand of politics, anyone?

The Relevance of Karunanidhi to Rahul Gandhi

2009-05-15T21:48:00.006+05:30

Tomorrow's a big day - Counting Day. Most of the media's attention in the last few days has been on Tamil Nadu, and specifically, Jayalalitha. Of all the regional parties, her AIADMK has the widest range of options - staying with the 'Third Front', supporting the Congress (in return the Congress would withdraw support to the DMK led government in Tamil Nadu), or supporting the BJP.

Importantly, by most polls she is expected to win 25-30 of the 39 Tamil Nadu Lok Sabha seats (CNN-IBN's poll, arguably the most credible predicts quite the opposite).

This time, if Jayalalitha bags 25 seats, should Congress ditch DMK and go with her? I don't think so. First, as coalition partners go, DMK has a track record of being a reliable coalition partner (give them a few ministries and they are happy)whereas there is a very high probability of Jayalalitha ditching you on a whim.

The less obvious reason is that Mr. Karunanidhi turns 86 on June 3 this year. To call him an icon of Tamil Nadu politics is putting it mildly. Given his sheer longevity, I am certain that the scenes of mass hysteria and adulation that will accompany his passing will surpass those witnessed for even Annadurai and M.G.R.

Should these scenes come to pass before, and even remotely close to, the next Lok Sabha elections (2014 or before)the DMK will certainly win all 39 seats. 11 seats in 2004 (AIADMK's 25 - DMK's 14) vs. 39 up to five years later, that's the choice facing the Congress.

What is the Congress's discount rate? I don't know, but my gut says that it should be very low. As desperate as their predicament is today, it is likely to be far more dicey the next time around. After their defeat in 2004, the BJP went through a period of soul-searching that is not complete but has seen them become an increasingly organised outfit, with strong regional leaders who are delivering results. In a few year's time the soul-searching will be over and the BJP will be in top form.

The Congress, on the other hand, despite Rahul Gandhi's brave words, still don't know how to counter the attack of Mayawati and others on their vote banks. Crucially, it is still fundamentally an insecure party that refuse to back or build strong regional leaders (YSR in AP being an exception). There is no sign of change.

If Rahul's goal is to become Prime Minister at some point in the not too distant future, five years sitting in Opposition, and 39 seats from Tamil Nadu in 2014 may be just what the doctor ordered.

(Of course, all of this could be quite irrelevant if CNN-IBN is correct in its predictions of a DMK sweep).

The IPL Trophy: Get the Basics Right!

2009-05-14T18:24:00.008+05:30

Here is an image of the IPL Trophy, just in case you haven't been subject to it already. This object has been unfailingly described by every commentator as magnificent.

It clearly is not. My objection to it is not that it is incredibly insecure ("see, this is what India looks like, just in case you didn't know") or vulgar (1 diamond per 1000 below poverty line) or unimaginative (see all of the above). I find it ugly and underwhelming because of the singular lack of attention to detail.

The letters I,P, and L are unequally spaced. In fact, it looks like they are not even in a straight line. And if the only element of imagination in the trophy is to mark the home bases of the teams with rubies rather than diamonds, then for the sake of every tireless Geography teacher in India, please get their locations right! Any self-respecting craftsman would disown this piece of junk.

Chennai, Bangalore and Hyderabad are blindingly out of position and Mumbai has apparently been taken over by the sea. Now, I'm thinking out of the box here, but perhaps a first step when trying to create a trophy out of a map would be to consult a map? Eh, Mr. Modi?

As an aside, the fact that Jaipur, Delhi and Chandigarh have been located accurately suggests another possibility. That a map was in fact consulted, but whoever it was that marked out the cities simply could not be bothered about where the three southern cities were located. I thought the days of anyone south of the Vindhyas being branded a 'Madrasi' were over, but maybe not.

The IPL trophy is not alone. Check out this article on how a roof at the swanky new Rs. 500 crore Terminal 1D at Delhi's IGI airport was simply 'blown off'.

In life as in cricket, let's get the basics right, shall we?

Front Page Journalism at Its Best

2009-05-06T14:01:00.005+05:30

Here is the opening paragraph from a front page article in the Hindustan Times today:

In our starry-eyed nation, the power wielded by Bollywood stars is indisputable. It is evident, not just in people aspiring to live like stars and rake in crores, and also how even the most seemingly insignificant aspect of a star's life influences millions

I for once left my incredulity behind and was hopeful of a good in depth view and this supposedly 'indisputable' phenomenon. Is it recent or has it been growing? How, subtly or otherwise are all of us influenced by the stars? Has it got anything to do with the increasing lack of fine upstanding politicians and a general lack of 'causes' in our lives? How consciously or unconsciously do our actors wield this power?

No such luck, here is the second paragraph:

In celebration of this power, Hindustan Times kicks off HT Power Couples, a series that takes you into the homes of five of the most powerful couples in Bollywood

And after much blah blah, the final two paragraphs:

We've got Bollywood's most powerful couples to open up on their mantra for a successful relationship. Plus a special take on each by Karan Johar.

Check out today's HT City to get up close and personal with your fav Bollywood couple.

Wowee! So first, I proclaim stars to have an undisputed power over millions, attribute the basic human aspiration of a better life to them, deem every minute detail of their lives to be of earth-shattering importance, and then propogate the entire fantasy by encouraging you to build your personal relationships on 'marriage mantras' from that rock-solid jodi - Jaya and AB!

Why not just put it in a front page ad and be honest about the whole thing, instead of making it an article with a By-Line (Vasantha Angamuthu)? And to have an entire series on what keeps Bollywood couples together? Come one, how entertaining could that be?!

Word Play and the LTTE

2009-04-27T17:51:00.006+05:30

The last stand of the LTTE has been coming for a while. It is difficult to take Rajapakse or Fonseka seriously when they claim week after week, month after month, that they are in the final phase of military operations, but this time, the odds are that they are speaking the truth. It will be a dramatic moment when Prabhakaran is finally produced, alive or dead. I conjure up scenes of his landing on Elliot's Beach in Madras, withered and diabetic. I somehow doubt he is a cyanide pill sort of man - top brass rarely are.

I digress. The recent phase of the conflict has seen the use of wordplay that rarely makes sense. Witness the many reports of combat in the 'no fire zone'. I turned on the television today and surfed the news channel for five minutes, to find that today was a mega word-play day. I found out that Karunanidhi has broken his hunger strike (I had not realised he had indeed been on one, it was so short. As self-immolations are in vogue in Tamil Nadu, I think his cause would have been better served if he had made a bonfire of his yellow shawl, which is virtually a part of him. It would have had the added benefit of being an aesthetically pleasing move - surely Kanimozhi would approve?). He had agreed to resume assisted living as a result of Sri Lanka's announcement stating that they would no longer use high-callibre weapons or aerial warfare in their military operations against the LTTE.

Presumably because they don't need aerial bombardment to snuff out Prabhakaran and his remaining coterie. Or perhaps they do, but who would vote for Rajapakse if there was no war going on? How magnanimous. Nevertheless, this was siezed upon by Chidamabaram, who promptly claimed that this was a 'ceasation of hostilities'. He also used his usual verbal props to qualify the statement - 'to the best of our knowledge, we have been given to believe...'. He also took full credit for the cessation. (He probably called Karunanidhi a few hours before the announcement so that he could go on his brief triumphant 'hunger strike'). Upon which the NDTV correspondent asked him the question that is surely the most important right now - what is the difference between a 'ceasefire' and a 'cessation of hostilities'? To which Mr. Chidamabaram patiently declared, that to the best of his knowledge, a 'cessation of hostilities' is a situation in which hostilities have ceased.

Soon after there was a clip of Barkha Dutt interviewing that man for all seasons, Pranab Mukherjee. He was asked to elaborate on the claim that the Sri Lankan Army was being provided assistance by India. Pranab-da clarified that we were providing 'non-lethal weapons'. I had no idea that India exported water cannons and rubber bullets. No, no, we provide surveillance equipment and other such logistical technology. To what end? To figure out where to drop the non-lethal water balloons of course!

The Omniscience and Omnipotence of God

2009-04-15T11:12:00.004+05:30

I've been reading Richard Dawkin's 'The God Delusion'. His books are a joy to read not just because his logic in unrelenting, but charmingly presented as well. He is full of parenthetical diversions and footnotes, usually humorous.

For example, this verse by Karen Owens on page 101:

Can omniscient God who
Knows the future, find
The omnipotence to
Change His future mind?

Politicians and their Wealth

2009-04-15T10:58:00.004+05:30

A good piece on the impact of wealth disclosure laws by Niranjan Rajyadaksha on LiveMint.

The Weakness of Manmohan Singh

2009-04-11T12:23:00.005+05:30

The BJP has been very active in broadcasting SMS to highlight what they will bring to the table if elected. These messages read as:

'Rs.25 lakh crores, belonging to Indians, is estimated to be stashed away in Swiss Banks. We will do our utmost to bring this wealth back to India.'

'India needs a strong and stable government committed to GOOD GOVERNANCE, DEVELOPMENT and SECURITY. Watch Shri LK Advani on 9x news at 9.30pm today.

'BJP's promise: Terror-free India, Hunger-free society, Debt-free kisan, worry-free middle class. 3.5 crore families to benefit from income tax exemption for incomes up to Rs. 3 lakh p.a. Student loans at 4%. Advani for PM.'

BJP's JAI JAWAN, JAI KISAN, JAI VIGYAN promise. Longstanding demands of our brave Armed Forces to be met. Farm loans at 4%. Road and broadband connectivity to all villages. 1.2 crore IT-Enabled jobs in rural areas. Advani for PM'

The sheer number of promises from the specifically obscure (bringing back 25 lakh crores sitting in swiss bank accounts) to the generally utopian (hunger free society) is admirable. But it also shows a party struggling to find a 'cause'. Part of the problem is that the development ('India Shining') plank has been successfully coopted by the Congress, which can even claim to have extended it to rural India. The UPA, having spent 5 years in power can claim several achievements - rural employment guarantee, nuclear deal, loan waiver etc., regardless of the actual effectiveness of such 'achievements'.

The alternate plank for the BJP is firebrand stuff a la Varun. Risky stuff in the era of coalitions and absent Vajpayee. So the only persistent handle that the BJP has is the 'weakness of Manmohan Singh'.

This could very well have been a vote winner. Except that unfortunately for the BJP, Manmohan Singh is in fact, weak. Physically. Here is a 76 year old grandfatherly man, who walks without swinging his arms, has a weak handshake and looks like he doesn't enjoy the limelight. He has just had a heart surgery and still can claim to be driven by a sense of duty to his party, and to the nation.

I suspect that by constantly calling him weak, the BJP will end up looking weak and desperate itself. In society that still has some respect for age and authority, and where grandparents are confidantes in Hindi movies, this could be seen as plain mean. The first rule of politics is to never call a spade, a spade.

The 'W' Factor - A Revolutionary Political Strategy

2009-04-07T18:24:00.009+05:30

Mohammad Azharuddin, when Captain, was known for his masterful on-side stroke play and his even more artistic and insightful press conferences: "If we had scored...um...a few more runs, and...um...taken a few more wickets...and held our catches, I think...um... we would have...um...won the match".

I am repeatedly reminded of him when listening to our political leaders expound on the basis for choosing candidates for the upcoming election.

On March 22, The Hindu reported Veerapa Moily stating that merit and winnability of the aspirants were among the issues considered by the high command on selection of Lok Sabha and Assembly candidates in Andhra Pradesh. Similarly, Sheila Dikshit (who has demonstrated her winnability thrice over) has stated that Jagdish Tytler and Sajjan Kumar, alleged murderers of Sikhs, have been selected as candidates because of their winnability (perhaps she meant to say 'winning personalities'). The BJD, when breaking its 11-year alliance BJP cited 'winnability' as well.

Speaking of their now defunct alliance with the Congress, the Samajwadi Party astounded the nation when it stated that "candidates should be selected on the basis of winnability". This is was a stunning reversal from their well known 'losability' strategy that has been the bedrock of Indian politics for decades. In those simpler times, parties like SP simply offered up candidates who had no chance of winning. Campaigning is tough business, and the party simply ensured its candidates lost and then spent the unused campaign funds to buy up the winning candidates, post-polls. (Sources close to the matter have ascertained that revenues from the party-run IPL auction strategy consulting business also helped the cause during recent state elections).

Leading political analysts have hailed the recent trend toward the Winnability criterion as a historic break from the past. They attribute this to the increasing political awareness of the youth voter, an increasingly aspiring middle class, and Mahendra Dhoni's winning streak as Captain. Says Rajdeep By-the-By of WNN-NOW, "In the early part of this decade, election day was seen simply as a holiday...the female turn-out was especially high given the nationwide shortage of henna and the readily available indelible ink as a subsitute...especially as elections coincided with the marriage season...now however, the voter has set the bar very high, especially after the Mumbai outrage...he now expects and hopes that the candidate he votes for will win...this change in attitude has put immense pressure on candidates and their parties, leading to this exciting trend toward winnability...for more on this, I have with me in the studio my neighbour's five year old niece Rina...welcome to our studios Rina...what a pretty dress...".

Perhaps not surprisingly, Azhar has joined the Congress and is contesting the elections. Presumably he was selected because of the winnability (of course wholly related to his winning streak as Captain, and nothing to do with his contest fixing abilities). He was to contest from his hometown of Hyderabad. He was then shunted to Tonk-Sawai Madhapur in Rajasthan, before finally settling on Moradabad in Uttar Pradesh. Sadly, even the great Azhar, giver of joy to millions of fans, has to choose his constituency carefully. Moradabad is a Muslim majority constituency - Azhar's 'W' factor.

The 'No Vote' Non-Option (49-O)

2009-03-31T18:47:00.003+05:30

Soon after the Mumbai attack, there was an email floating around about the 'no vote' option (Rule 49-O). The email stated that if a majority of the votes cast were for the 'no vote', there would be a repoll. As it turned out, there is no such provision for a repoll, and electors have to reveal their identity to cast the 'no vote'. It would be very interesting to find out the motives for drafting such a rule - why the insistence on revelation of identity?

Even if 49-O was a secret ballot option, and a majority meant a repoll, I am not sure it would have been a great idea. For the sake of argument, let us take this idea to the extreme and let us assume that in all constituencies, a majority of 'no votes' were achieved and that there was a repoll at short notice. Now, perhaps in all the constitutencies, we will find independents standing for elections in the repoll. Let's make the further dubious assumption that all the independents are 'good' (i.e. better than the 'politicians') candidates. Let's assume that all of them win in the repoll. Can we reasonably expect efficient government of any sort from such a parliament?

Alernatively, there are 10 repolls because parties continue to field their candidates. And from habit, we assume that anyone from any political party is a goon and therefore continue to force repolls. Finally the Army reluctantly takes over.

We have to believe one of two things - anyone touched by power is corrupted, or that it is possible to be 'good' politician. If the former, there is no hope anyway. If the latter, the best option is to enter politics and provide an alternative and face the ballot. If we are elected, well and good. If not, we deserve who we vote. There is no point whining from the sidelines hoping for a 'no vote = repoll' option that will lead us nowhere.

Value Add? Yeah, Right.

2009-03-15T12:55:00.007+05:30

I have over my working life been hit by pangs of guilt. I have compared my wages to that of a labourer and then compared the conditions in which we work and the sheer number of calories expended and reach the obvious conclusion that life's not fair. I am hit by the first pang of guilt. Then the second wave of guilt hits me - "all this education, and you still think like a commie". "Remember", I say to myself, "you are more educated than he is, and therefore add more value". Really? He's built several houses. What have I built that could possibly outlast me? And in any case, as Michael Spence showed in his seminal work on job signalling , my education did not add any value in itself, it merely signalled to employers who could not possibly know me, that a 'good' college was suckered into welcoming me to its bossom. And so, presumably, I must have a decent sort of head on my shoulders. Presumably the labourer would have been smart enough to be so admitted to a worthwhile institution as well, had he the opportunity to do so.

With this guilty disposition, I was left scratching my head by requests to the alumni mailing list of my business school, requests that can only be described as lazy. Here's one: "I am looking for SWOT or any other analysis that shows challenges for the Auto Insurance industry. Any assistance would be highly appreciated." Now, what precisely is this person being paid for? Where are the brilliant analytical and research skills that he or she so forcefully signalled to the job market?

And here's another one: "I am looking for free online databases that provide market size related information. It would be helpful if you can suggest relevant URLs that you may know." First, he hopes for a website that will do all the work for him. Next, he wants others to do the Google search for him.

Somehow, I don't feel so guilty anymore!

Pakistan's 3/3

2009-03-05T09:55:00.003+05:30

Sometimes I miss the good old DD days, when there was such a thing as the news bulletin. Now, each day is a single news item day with the same 15-second video titbit played in a loop while the anchor asks the neighbourhood chowkidar about the security situation in the subcontinent. I was relieved when the live coverage of the aftermath of the attack on the Sri Lankans was interrupted by CNN-IBN to provide a round-up of the headlines. The headlines consisted of 5 different reactions to the attacks.

This need to provide us with a news mela rather than a news bulletin also calls for the appropriate labelling and marketing of the key attraction. And therefore, soon after Mumbai was attacked in November, we had "India's 9/11". Yesterday, we had "Pakistan's Mumbai" or "Pakistan's 26/11". This derivative and sensational labelling stems from the need to feel safety in numbers and absolve oneself of any responsibility. We all like to feel helpless in the face of an overwhelming global force, wring our hands, curse KaliYuga and say to ourselves "it could have happened anywhere - London, Madrid, even New York - see 9/11". And so we have this strange dichotomy from before and after. Before, we say "we will provide the best security for the commonwealth games, the IPL, we have experience in these matters, our forces are the best" and after we say "but it could have happened anywhere, no?"

Yes, we face a global phenomenon, but for every city that has been attacked by lunatics there are ten others that have not. Each incident is local, and has lessons that must be learned locally. Each could have been prevented differently - better security checks at EWR, better sea surveillance and quicker response in India, santisation of a route and bullet-proof windows in Lahore. We can be successful only when we take full ownership of our own, very personal, unique manifestations of a global plague.

Krishnan, Violinist

2009-02-28T01:28:00.005+05:30

Mothers are kind, most often to their children. When at seventeen I left for Middlebury College in Vermont, I carried with me about a dozen tapes of Indian classical music. One among these was a tape from Amma's collection, of T.N. Krishnan's concert in L.A. in the year of 1989. I had enthusiastically coded it C2, C for Carnatic (I had brought along some of Dada's method as well!) Many may find fault with the populist playlist - Ninnukori varnam in Mohanam, Vathapi, Ka Va Va, Krishna Ni Begane Baro, Reethigowla, Kapi. For me, missing Doddah's thaiyer vadai, Amma's hug and Madras's sodium vapour lamps, it was home. Many nights were meandered into dream world listening to T.N. Krishnan on a Walkman. I was so inspired that I had weekly a show on Indian classical music on the college radio station, often returning to T.N.Krishnan when my playlist ran dry.

I have listened to T.N. Krishnan live twice. The first time was in New York some years ago, when he played with his sister N. Rajam. I was surprised. I had seen many sepia-tinted and black and white photographs of him accompanying others like Semmangudi. In those he looked obedient, subdued. In New York, he played brilliantly, fidgeted, smiled, smirked, waved his arms, let go of his bow, picked it up at the last possible instant. He was as a child with cotton candy - immersed and candid.

I went for a concert of his today in Delhi. He is eighty. He doesn't move about as much. But he has the energy of a teenager on Red Bull, and he doesn't have arthritis. He is technically brilliant, but unlike L. Subramaniam, he has the humility to allow the heart command the fingers rather than the head. There are the delicate turns of phrases that are easy to execute, simple, but difficult to concieve. And he still plays Surutti as though the raga was created because Krishnan would be born.

Microbicides and Lesson Plans

2009-02-27T23:02:00.009+05:30

Today, I learned about microbicides (don't ask me how!). These are substances that are under development that when perfected and when applied to the inside of vaginas will prevent HIV transmission during intercourse. These non-existent microbicides have a global campaign going for them: http://www.global-campaign.org. Why the hoopla? Apparently because men in developing nations, specifically Africa and India, hit their wives (and other sundry 'lovers') if requested wear condoms. Hence the millions of dollars in the hope of a discreet HIV killer.

I find this astounding (warning: all forthcoming opinions of a layman variety - I don't have a degree in public health, though I know better than to urinate roadside). Surely a man can detect a foreign substance on his penis? Even if not, surely a man oppressive enough to beat a source of love also keeps tabs on the family accounts, or the female's locomotive insticts? Unless there is also a campaign for the invisible shroud, I can't believe that the development of microbicides is a worthwhile exercise.

So, should we spend our time, energy and money developing microbicides, or coaxing stupid men to wear the bloody rubber? Perhaps five years in the cooler for a man known to be infected and refusing to use a condom and two years for a man refusing to get tested should do the trick? More generally, do we aim for the long term ideal, or do we shrug our shoulders and say 'the world is what it is' and work at solutions given the present reality?

A similar debate exists in the world of education. How do you get good, creative, thinking teachers to teach in schools for the poor? Once you train them, they up and run to the better paying school catering to wealthier students. One solution in vogue is to have just in time lesson plans. Here, you accept that the only ones willing to be paid low wages to teach poor students are at best well meaning automatons. So you tell them what to say in each class and hope for the best. In the present, it is likely a fine solution. Should we settle for this or press our governments to invest in and take seriously the need for quality education for all? And if and when they do getting around to doing it, will God be dead? When will men stop beating women?

The jury is out. We need various folks attending to the short term reality as well as the long term ideal. What we must not do let the short term masturbation over microbicides overshadow the longer (infinite)term maturing of men. As the old cliche goes, reach for the stars, and maybe, somehow, we'll land on the moon.

The Insect and the Man

2009-01-12T16:03:00.007+05:30

Today I saw an insect drown in my toilet bowl. I don't know how it got there - it certainly didn't swim up there; insects tend to drown. I know, because I have occassionally deposited them there precisely for that reason.

As a child (and especially as a younger sibling), the only creatures that I had a say over had six legs. And I believe that like everyone else, my first lessons in morality lie in my early interactions with them.

Lesson number one - anything that can possibly kill you, you try and slap to death. Applicable to all Mozzies - mosquitos and muslims.

Lesson number two - anything from the gutter is an embarassment - chappal to death. Applicable to cockroaches and the poor - anyone living by drains, and the really dark skinned ones. Some can fly, beware!

Lesson number three - Leave the fair and lovely alone. Applicable to lady bugs and the fair and lovely. They may be ruining your garden but they must have their form for a good, godly reason.

Lesson number four - Ants and people are of two varieties. The small thin ones, you get rid off using "flit". If you are anywhere near the fat, prosperous ones, you are certainly playing out of your league - get away from there!

And with that, I plead the fifth.

Subramanyam Swamy and his sort

2009-01-03T17:50:00.004+05:30

9Soon after the Mumbai terror attacks, there were a many words said and written about the event. Everytime I thought 'I should write a blog post on this', it seemed almost insulting that I should be thinking of my blog and my voice in these troubled times.

Now, as was inevitable, the enormity of it all has died down and there are a few things left to be said.

We all know that we cannot completely stamp out terrorism. We can only do two things - minimise the possibility of a terror strike, and cope better once it occurs. We know how to achieve each of these.

Interestingly, the two are inextricably linked. The better we cope with a terror attack, the less likely it is that a terror attack will occur. Terrorists are mad individuals whose only motivation is to cause terror. There is nothing that can dampen the terrorist spirit like reducing the number of casualties from 200 to 2.

Calling Mumbai "India's 9/11" does not help. We've just created the next terrorist recruiting poster. I am not advocating turning the other cheek - we must do all that we must do to prevent attacks and minimise the aftermath, but we must not show our trauma. We must grieve in private. We cannot continue to show how sorry we are for ourselves. We must treat a terrorist in the same way that we treat someone who wants to be someone but is actually inconsequential (like Subramanyam Swami) - if we ignore them, they will shut up.

One reason that terror attacks can never be eliminated in India is the abundant and willful disregard of the rule of law. Time immemorial, crimes have been prevented because events leading up to the act have attracted suspicion. Suspicion is aroused by activities outside the ambit of the normal. In India, everything is normal, because we have no regard for norms. This is the overriding reason that we are a soft target. Unless we remember what our parents taught us, be good, and stop at the red light, we will never be able to spot the terrorist who doesn't, or the one that buys a SIM card with fraudulent paperwork.

If there is a silver lining from Mumbai, it is an increasing awareness that it is in our own interest to wait patiently while our bags are checked at security checkpoints. My hope is that this awareness for the need to comply with rules will spread slowly but surely to the other parts of our lives.

Happy New Year!

Latest and worst fairness cream ad

2008-10-03T10:49:00.004+05:30

There is an ad on T.V. now for a fairness cream for men. It's called Saka. And the tagline for the cream is...(drumroll)

'Evolve'

Cart, Horse, Conditioning

2008-09-30T18:05:00.003+05:30

Has the Indian team for the India-Australia series been announced yet? If not, who exactly are conditioning their bodies at the Chinnaswamy Stadium camp? Anyone know?

P.S. hope Ganguly makes it

Smoking Ban

2008-09-30T10:27:00.003+05:30

I'm all for the smoking ban in public places from October 2. I lived through one in New York and it was great. Our pillows no longer smelled of smoke afer a night out at a bar (always badly ventilated), and my dry cleaning bills went down tremendously in winter (no more dry cleaning smoky jackets).

One bizarre twist to the Indian version though - the 'road' is not a public space, so you can smoke there, but to smoke in your car, you have to have the windows rolled up! Where would the smoke from my car go, if not the road? Unless I'm driving through a railway station.

Is my beige your pink?

2008-09-24T12:12:00.008+05:30

As you may have noticed, I have been attacked by an unusually large dose of must-meddle-with-blog-colours-itis, of late. All this colour changing reminds me of a question that has been close to my eyes for quite a while now. How am I to know that what I see as orange is seen in the same way by you? In other words, is my orange to you, what my green is to me, by any chance? We each have external references and therefore know what colour we are seeing, but perhaps if I took a photograph of your mind's eye, the colours would be completely different from what I'm used to - maybe it'd be a Warhol.

I know there are those who see mostly gray, and claim to be colour blind, so clearly colour is not absolute. But to what extent do these differences pervade - do the differing densities of colour receptors on our retinas explain everything? Will we ever know?

We're talking colour here, pretty fundamental stuff. What then, about beauty? Clearly there are forms that most of us can agree on - the Taj, however cliched, is beautiful. It is clear that symmetry has something to do with it, and Denzel Washington has the most beautiful face in the world by virtue of symmetry and proportions. If things were so obvious, why do we have ugly, gaudy stuff? Conversely, why is there so much boring stuff? How did this subjectivity enter the picture, so to speak? Is it cultural conditioning, parental conditioning, or simply in the genes?

Coming to think of it, fascinating, but who cares?

The ads of New India

2008-09-14T18:59:00.005+05:30

I detest ads for fairness creams. It seems that the more we progress economically, the more we can spend to combat our deepest insecurities, thereby strengthening, rather than diminishing them.

Two more ads have irritated me no end. The first is one for Hero Honda, celebrating the 'New Indian'. This is a smartly dressed dude, on his way to post a letter by snail mail to a 'Mr. Smith', or 'Mr. Jones',accepting employment abroad as an architect. Apparently these things are not done by email in new India. In some place that looks like vaguely like an idyllic Gurgaon with non-descript buildings, and empty roads, our man stops his Hero Honda in its tracks, tears up the letter and spreads it like confetti. Clearly, his architectural designs for New India do not include dustbins. And our New Indian continues to litter.

A more recent ad for Reliance Mobile has a posh couple talking on their mobile phones. Posh Husband is on a road to Simla, and Posh Wife is decorating posh home. PH is pretending to remember a spot on the side of the road that was seminal in their relationship. PW, rather than getting upset that he doesn't remember, lovingly guides him to the right milestone ('297 - 29th July, remember?'). PH's not so posh driver veers off the road to a nice misty overhang. In the corner, there is a stone ruin of some sort, where PH lovingly tells PW (still on the phone) that their inscription (Divya loves Ravi or some such) is still there (where did he expect it to go - the bugger had etched it into the rock). Hooray for Reliance Mobile, it helps us foster love between vandals. I don't know how much the Delhi Government spent on their ad campaign against the vandalising of our monuments, but all that effort just went to waste. Reliance, the embodiment of our corporate manhood has said it is okay.

What is astounding is that in both these cases, not one person in the ad agencies or in the marketing team thought it wise to point out that the ads were not sending the right message. Either not one person thought the thought, not one person chose to speak up, or they were all overruled. Whichever way reflects poorly New India's corporate culture.

Limp Whip

2008-07-25T00:11:00.007+05:30

It was sad in a way to watch the press conference of L.K. Advani and Rajnath Singh a day after eight party rebels defied the whip and 'cross-voted' (sounds like a bold fashion statement). They very lamely declared that said fashionistas were expelled from the party. In the immortal word of Moose Mason,"Duh!".

The question is, are there no other consequences for a Member of Parliament defying the party whip? What use is the whip, anyway?

Apparently, the Tenth Schedule of the Constitution of India states that "a member of a House belonging to any political party shall be disqualified from being a member of the House....if he votes or abstains from voting in such House contrary to any direction issued by the political party to which he belongs ...". But even this disqualification is not automatic, and is at the discretion of the speaker.

Let's assume that the disqualification of whip-defying M.P.s is an automatic process. So what? It has no bearing whatsoever on the outcome of the all important vote. The vote is not disqualified, only the member who cast it - and if the government is going to fall (or not) because of the vote, who cares? It is like telling a Deva that if he drinks the nectar of immortality, Indra will no longer protect him.

Subramaniam Vincent and Ashwin Mahesh make a persuasive (if a bit naive) argument in indiatogether.com that dissent shouldn't even result in disqualification of the M.P., let alone the offending vote. This brings us to the question about what exactly we vote for, a party manifesto, or the candidate. Do we vote for Soniaji,Advaniji and Kalaignar, or do we vote because we believe in their astute and righteous lackeys? In a proportional representation system, it's clearly the party. In a first-past-the-post Westminster system, it is less clear. There are defined constiuencies; we presumably vote for the specific candidate who will voice the opinion of his constituents in parliament. Yet, he belongs to a party (unless a declared Independent) and is subject to a party whip. I for one vote for the party, but there is a reason that parties woo specific candidates (mostly caste); the identity of the local lackey therefore matters.

Now, imagine a scenario that moves to the extreme opposite of what we have witnessed. Suppose that defiance of party whip actually has consequences that matter - the vote is disqualified, and for fun, the MP is forced to watch all of Ram Gopal Varma Ki Aag a hundred times over with his eyes propped up with toothpicks. Someone could write a nice potboiler on the conspiracy of Party Whips (the issuers of the whips) plotting together to take over the world, or to sell their souls to an Ambani.

However unpalatable the options, we must decide - either we have a whip that works, or simply let every member of the legislature vote according to his 'conscience' (and we know what that means!)

"Humko Videshi Chaahiye": Racism, perhaps?

2008-07-09T22:52:00.006+05:30

Racism in India is well documented, mainly in the matrimonial pages, but also in film songs, thumris, dadras and ads for creams. There is now a cream that guarantees that you will become 2 shades lighter in x days, and provides a very scientific 'shade meter'(a card board strip resembling an Asian Paints colour card) to track your progress. So by now I should have learned to expect it. And yet, even the mildest form of racism is at the very least extremely annoying.

Here's what happened. We were looking for an apartment to rent. The mother-daughter maid-cook duo whose company we enjoy every morning are worth their weight in gold, and so we decided not to move too far. We visited a great place where a very pleasant Anglo-Saxon couple showed us around. We were eventually (after being routed through a son in Australia) asked to call the land lady upstairs, at 10 am. We called, and called, and called. She was either doing puja, or away. We got through after 5 days and about a dozen attempts. Thirty seconds into my conversation with her (of which 20 seconds were spent explaining what investment fund meant - I should have just gone with 'bank'), I was put on to the husband. Five seconds into this new conversation, I was told that there was no point continuing as they were only interested in foreigners. End of story. After ten years abroad, my first taste of racism is in my own captial city.

Strictly speaking, he would have been happy with a Black tenant(though I'm not sure), so this is not skin-colour racism. It was really anti-Indianism, which amounts to the same thing.

I can see where he's coming from. Clearly, there is a huge demand for housing from the ex-pats. Apparently, they are more trustworthy tenants than Indians, as they will leave when required without a fuss (or have to leave after their stint in India is done). Not sure how these reputations have developed, but from a landlord's point of view, why take a chance against conventional Delhi renting wisdom? We all have 'flags', whether conscious or not, about who will make a good tenant,this one happens to be race.

It may be the rational reaction, but it's hard to swallow. Harder still to swallow is this self-discrimination.

This was a very irritating incident, perhaps mildly hurtful, but nothing more. A dark-skinned friend was given a nickname that was a vernacular word for black, by his best buddies in an MBA program. He laughed, and always responded, not seeming to mind at all. And these were real buddies, who meant him no harm.

I've wondered about what he thought of his nickname, in his quieter moments. And when he did not find a job after several weeks of trying, whether he started seeing the apparitions of racism, real or imagined.

Manners for the Mangalam: pavamaana suttudu battu paadaara vindamulaku...(no, no, please don't log off)

2008-07-07T23:09:00.005+05:30

,Part 3 in a definitely 3 part series

Alright, this has dragged on long enough. There seems to be some consensus that we are social animals and naturally take our cues from those around us - the micro-culture, and the surrounding company is therefore supreme in determining whether we lift our behinds 10 seconds into the Mangalam or 30 seconds (when it is actually over).

But this is an incomplete, and a perhaps lazy observation. The question becomes, how is the 'norm'-al behaviour for a given micro-setting determined in the first place? Surely, this has to do with the 'macro-culture' - the larger history and mileu of the audience, the music, the musician? What makes the first two people get up, for the others to follow? How many are enough to begin the outflux - one, two, ten? What determines this outflux quorum - is it smaller in larger cities, where you are less likely to be recognised by your neighbour? Is it similarly larger in Switzerland, where less is likely to go wrong and therefore fewer inefficiencies to blame for our arse-levitating alacrity?

Have we, of the alluvial plains,over decades (centuries, millenia?) of living in densely populated areas been conditioned to be one step ahead thy neighbour, always? Is that why we seem to always stand up before the aircraft has come to a complete stop, even if we are in window seats and have to strain our necks to one side to avoid becoming intimate with the overhead luggage cavity?

On the other hand, Ramchandra Guha in an article in Time argues that cricket is particularly suited to India because we have a uniquely expansive notion of time; we think virtually nothing of spending five days doing virtually nothing. So how does that gel with our mangalam behaviour? Perhaps we have a more earthly notion of time these days, hence 20-20. Perhaps mangalam behviour was very different two or three decades ago.

Finally, there was a comment about how we think nothing of littering where we live, but are careful about our refuse when in Singapore. That comment was bang on, but for pehaps the wrong reason. It's not so much a case of do as the Romans do, but the "I'm afraid I'll get my sorry little self in jail for chewing gum" phenomenon.

So, yes, at the end of the day, after all the mental masturbation to do with macro-cultures, it boils down to plain old mundane incentives. (Yes, I know, you knew it all along...sorry). We should just bar for the next 5 years anyone leaving the hall in the middle of a song, however bad the rendition, however full the bladder, however choked the streets. Then we'll see.

...naa naama rupamulaku nitya jaya mangalam

Fed is not Ex

2008-07-07T13:04:00.001+05:30

Don't write off Roger! A reminder about why he's so so great:

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/08/20/sports/playmagazine/20federer.html

Manners for the Mangalam: The Concert of Small Things

2008-07-01T23:35:00.008+05:30

Part 2 in an optimistically 3-part series

Interesting comments to the first post in this series, and two resulting conclusions. First, it was probably a mistake to mention Wimbledon in a post on Carnatic music - the Sabha and Centre Court are both venues providing some mixture of art and entertainment, but music and sport are probably disparate beasts. So the furthest I will go in providing a contrast to a kutcheri is a performance by the New York Philharmonic; both classical art forms, safe comparison.

Second, clearly the micro-culture, as embodied by the arena itself, "the setting", is key to behaviour. So that's what we'll explore first before tackling the larger question about what this specific behaviour during the Mangalam tells us about the macro-culture.

Before all that, an aside. In Mike Marquese's book "Redemption Song" about Mohammad Ali, he summarises in a beautiful paragraph or two why sport has acquired meaning and significance that it does not naturally deserve. I ineptly paraphrase: the outcome of a boxing, tennis or cricket match should logically have absolutely no consequence to anyone but the participants. Unlike other arenas of competition such as the military or economic, the consequences are not real. Yet, the spectator is emotionally and intensely vested in the activity. Marquese's argument is that that it is precisely because the result is so inconsequential in itself that we can so readily attribute significance and engage so actively as spectators. It is in effect an empty vessel that we can fill with what we will. Perhaps this is why watching sport and watching a music performance are not comparable activities. Perhaps music affects us more directly. A jarring note requires less interpretation than a mis-timed shot, neurologically speaking. The Carnatic vessel is not quite as empty. Sure, a Sachin on-drive is pleasing in itself, a work of art, but is it really just as pleasing in a round-robin match against the Netherlands than in a final against Pakistan? In sport, the pleasure is mostly about what you, as a spectator vest in the activity, your reaction to art is less voluntary. A long winded justification for removing sport from the consideration set.

So back to the micro-culture. My contention is that if you take the Sabha audience and TMK and plonk them in the Kennedy Center in DC, you will not find people leaving before the Mangalam (for one, the canteen is not half as tempting as in Madras!). So, the "Where" matters.

Zubin Mehta performed in 2005 with the Bavarian State Orchestra at the Madras Music Academy. Apparently, there was a crowd of 3000 included the venerated Don, Amartya Sen. I am quite certain that no one left before the end (though I'm not sure that orchestras have ready signals like the Mangalam). So less clearly,"What" also matters.

Within the "What", how about the "Who"? Does it all boil down to some sort of economic argument to do with scarcity? What if instead of T.M. Krishna, it was M.S. Subbulakshmi who came back from wherever she is (presumably Vaikuntha) to give one last concert. Everyone would linger an extra ten minutes just to soak in the lingering vibes. In 2001, during KV Narayanaswamy's last music season, I doubt anyone in full control of their mental faculties would have left the premises before the Mangalam.

So, has it really boiled down to the mundane of the arena - what, where, who? Is it really all about the right incentives? Do we absent ourselves from TMK's Mangalam simply because we know that we will not be arrested for doing so, and because we know there will be dozens more TMK Mangalams in the not too distant future?

If so, what can we do about it? Should we do anything about it, or is it "we react to incentives in micro-arenas like that only, (by the way, just like you would?)" My gut says that there is something more to this business.

Some years back, the Californian government (or maybe the city of L.A., I forget which)instituted fines for those people who talked/had their cell phones on during movies. Anyone know the results of that experiment?

Manners for the Mangalam: The Trigger

2008-06-27T23:56:00.005+05:30

Part 1 of an optimistically multi-part series

About a month ago, I was listening to a recoding of a December season concert of T.M. Krishna. Just as he started the Mangalam (the last piece of a carnatic music concert), interrupting himself, he said (in Tamil, of course): "One request to everone - the mangalam won't last even thirty seconds, I don't think you're in such a great hurry, please sit down!Thank you". He subsequently wrapped it up, but not without adding a few extra verses to the usual 2-line Mangalam, extending the affair to a full 3 minutes.

Kutcheri goers have had a long history of less than ideal behaviour. There's the moving in and out, in-between, and during, pieces. There are those who migrate to the canteen during the tani-avartanam (percussion solo). There are those who strut to the front row, and greet the performing artist with a 'namaskaram' gesture, fully expecting the poor soul on stage to reciprocate, never mind that the artist is engaged in a complicated passage of improvisation. Admittedly, things are getting better; TMK for one, is not satisfied with the progress.

This brief encounter with bad manners raises many questions, thoughts, in my muddled mind. For instance, there is clearly a gap that needs to bridged - the carnatic musician demands a certain respect from his audience, and is clearly not getting it. Zubin Mehta, or for that matter, any western classical musician in most settings, doesn't face the same problem. No one utters a single whisper during a Wimbledon point. On the other hand, cricket audiences do exactly as they please as the ball leaves a bowler's hand, and the batsman has to deal with it. A rock concert will be noisy. Maybe it is clear that Zubin is more more of an 'artist' and Sachin is more of a 'performer'. Maybe.

Why this misunderstanding so prevalent in Carnatic music? Perhaps Carnatic music is so supremely entertaining, and so familiar, to the Madras audience that they view TMK as glorified T.V. set, and behave accordingly. But what would happen if you put TMK and his Madras audience in the Carnegie Hall - would people be getting off their seats 30 seconds before the scheduled end? Can all blame be laid at the doorstep of Madras traffic?

I suspect there is enough material to write a thesis on "Concert manners and what they tell us about music, musicians, audiences, their geography, their history, and perhaps, their dietary habits". I don't plan to write this thesis. But I'm hopingthat blogging about Manners for the Mangalam will help clear the air with answers.

More likely, it'll just muddle the speculative waters further!

Maestro Doraiswamy's Fine Balance

2008-06-25T23:06:00.005+05:30

When I left for Middlebury, I took along with me a Meltrack tape which had Veena Doraiswamy Iyengar's "Maestro's Choice" recorded on it. It was one of my favourite tapes of all time. Yesterday, long after the tape deck met its demise I bought the CD. And as I listen to it, I finally understand why I love the album so much.

Apart from music being so pleasing in itself, what strikes me is that every piece feels about the same length, and every piece makes you lose track of time. You look at the CD cover and think "I can't believe the Hamirkalyani piece was only 14 minutes, and that Ghana Ragamalika Tanam - did it really last 22 minutes?"

Each piece, in other words, is perfectly balanced, of perfect proportion. There is the right amount of imporvisation, whether alapana or swaras, and the right amount of composition. Even the Ghana Ragamalika Tanam, all improvisation, lingers for just the right amount on each of the six ragas. Each piece is complete, but never repetitive. It leaves you sated, beaming, but not full.

Charsur Digital Works brought out a recording of a concert by T.K. Rangachari as part of its Paddhati series. That concert is full of such finely balanced pieces. It is a simply glorious concert. It lasts over three hours, but no one in their right mind would have left before the end of the Mangalam (a thought for another day).

Work-Life Balance

2008-06-24T22:16:00.004+05:30

Today I was editing a document in which I came across the curious yet familiar phrase, "work-life balance". It was initially in the document as "worklife balance", which made me think. "Worklife balance" may actually make some sense - finding balance in the working life.

"Work-life balance" on the other hand connotates that work is non-life, or simply, death. What?

As horrific as it is to be contemplating the appropriate amount of life and death in our lives, I believe we are lucky. We are lucky because the term "work-life balance" was coined in the late 1970s by the "New Ways to Work and the Working Mother's Association" in the United Kingdom (according to that fountainhead of impeccably credible information,Wikipedia).

Imagine if the term was coined in New York (let's say in the vicinity of Park Avenue and 47th street, or Wall Street) by the "I Will Work Till I Shrivel Up and Fall Away in This Gorgeous Suit and I Will Love it - I Will, I Will,I Will Association" in the mid 2000s.

This blog could very well have been pondering the merits of the phrase "Life-Leisure Balance".

Love and loss at the mouth of a belt

2008-06-23T22:19:00.013+05:30

Now that I've started up on airports, I might as well tell you. I am telling you now, because very soon, there will be nothing to tell. I have never been known for my lyrical ability; you'll have to excuse me - it is an urgent matter.

So if you find yourself in an old style airport, not yet beautified by the GXX surgeon's scalpel, go to the baggage conveyer belt and position yourself in line of sight of the mouth. Notice the many drooping, shapeless flaps covering the mouth. And just as you're about to slip into a coma from the waiting, watch as the first bag comes out of the cavity and on to the belt.

This is the time to "open the doors and windows of your mind" as Pupul Jayakar once told us in Rishi Valley School. Do you feel any emotions stirring up within you as you watch the bag pass harmlessly by? If not, watch carefully - see how tenderly and reluctantly the very last bit of the flap lets go of the skin of the suit case beneath. It is the most love filled and poignant gesture that you will witness in a while. It won't strike you at first, but watch as again, again and again, the flaps let go of the ones they love.You could be watching a mother saying good bye to a son going off to war, a lover saying goodbye to one that she alone knows that she will not see again, a father lighting the pyre of a daughter. There is nothing left to say, only an excruciating slowness, and that one final imperceptible grasp.

Before you condemn me to the loony bin, consider the image below. This is what is going to replace the flappy cavity.

The new belts are decidedly unapologetic - the bag is simply dumped from above, and lands with a thud. No one, nothing, could care less at the time of parting.

Watch, feel, compare, decide, and only then call me mad.

The Airwaves of Shamsabad

2008-06-18T09:39:00.008+05:30

These days I spend quite a bit of time at the Rajiv Gandhi International Airport (aka Shamsabad). It is quite a lovely, large terminal building, pleasant enough to hang out in. True to nature, I have settled on a bit of a routine every time I'm there. I go to Landmark, browse around, almost pick up a book, and then settle on a Commando comic and a magazine. Then I walk a few yards to Hyderabadi Paradise and order a combo meal - curry, dal and rice (I skip the salad). I park myself at a table opposite, hang my jacket, and dig in to my meal, Commando included.

This blissful interlude in my peripatetic life (distance from entrance to aircraft is probably 2 miles) is invariably interrupted byJu the airwaves of Shamsabad. It is as though each and every member of the ground staff has discovered the joy of the microphone. I think the glamour innate in their air hostess brethren (can this word be applied to a female collective?) breeds a manic insecurity. "She may have the bod, but I have the voice". And so every ten seconds you have someone flooding the airwaves with the latest inconsequential update on a flight: "Ladies and gentlemen, the flight is still delayed by only 40 minutes - I will update you as soon as it is delayed a further 2 minutes - continue to enjoy your sucky lives".

Spice Jet is undoubtedly the worst of the lot. They announce a "Last and Final Call for Departure of Flight SG blah blah" about 5 times in 15 minutes, entirely deflating the gravity and purpose of the announcement. It reminds me instantly of my naive days as a new consultant - I would optimistically name a document xxx_Final.ppt. Two days later I would be working on xxx_Final_v13.ppt. A "Last and Final Call" as it turns out is merely a gentle and recurring reminder, not a dire warning. Towards the aim of fostering a more open and transparent society, I think Last and Final calls should be suitably annotated "This is the Last and Final Call...", " This is the Last and Final Call...Really", "This is the Final Last and Final Call"..."This is the Last and Final Call...SG blah blah is in the air, but we'll call it back to the gate, for you".

When news of Shamsabad was in the air, I had decidedly mixed feelings. On the one hand, getting there would cost me over 500 rupees each way, and there were all sorts of stories about how long it would take to get there. On the plus side, I would no longer have to listen to a particularly insufferable and incessant announcer from Deccan who had left an indelible mark on the Begumpet airwaves and my ear drums.

There was relief for a while, but this past Thursday, as i immersed myself in the escape of a few doughty pommies from a Jap attack at the singapore harbour, I heard her: "Deccan wishes its entire passenger a very pleasant flight".

It is so gratifying to know that Messrs. Gopinath and Mallya wish my spleen well.

Obama's Royal Challenger

2008-05-10T11:27:00.003+05:30

There is nothing worse to watch than stars limping. In the past weeks we have seen two campaigns that seem to just go on and on and on, like the Energizer Bunny in a coma. They don't know when to stop. Euthanasia may not be a bad option.

Rahul Dravid goes from one stadium to another, one press conference to another proclaiming that they are just one win away from a turn around.

Similarly Hillary Clinton says she will "never give up" on those who have voted for her in the primaries thus far and vows to take the fight to the finish. If Howard Dean's campaign ended in one impetuous yell, Mrs. Clinton's is ending in an everlasting yawn.

Both Dravid and Clinton are masters of their game - or so they thought. Dravid is clearly a master of the Test cricket arena, and Clinton revels in politics old style (proclaiming "now comes the fun part" when the Democratic race turned negative). Unfortunately, things have changed, and how!

Clinton is accused of having an "air of entitlement" about her, one that she is arguably, entitled to. And Dravid is believed to have proclaimed that good Test cricketers are good in any form of the game. The problem is however, that going head-to-head with the 'audacity of hope', you have to be great to win.

All said and done, when we think of the greatest cricketers India has ever had, Dravid's name will be right up there. And I'm sure, in a few weeks/months/years' time Obama's 'new politics' will prove to be much like Twenty-20 cricket - high on hoopla and devoid of a core.

There is nothing worse than to watch stars limping.

En Route

2008-05-06T10:14:00.004+05:30

On the flight to Hyderabad for my MBA, I penned down a few thoughts in a notebook. Here's a look back on what the kid was thinking.

Missing Fuco and the safety of her presence. The mundane seems worthwhile with her - now even the most exciting prospect feels fairly mundane. Would like to get back to Delhi with all the benefits of an MBA imbibed in a day.

A little nervous about my lack of preparation for this whole year. I imagine I'll be surrounded by driven stud-gaarus who are oh-so-sure of themselves. Maybe I'll be seen as a stud-gaaru my self - oh-so-reserved-and-aloof.

I don't think those old insecurities will ever go away - no one next to me on the bus, finding someone to sit with in a large cafeteria - all exacerbated no doubt by the campus setting. Thank god for quads.

I must try and get into a routine as early as I can - really can't afford to get into worthless habits like fooseball. There's so much to do. Must have a realistic view on job possibilities - need to get a shortlist of companies and roles by the end of June. That would be goal #1.

Descending now - shit, I'm not ready.

Rediscovering Madras

2008-05-06T09:07:00.002+05:30

It's funny how spaces contract. Growing up, Gymkhana Club was the epitome of space and distance. I once famously (fame is always relative) claimed that Madras was my favourite place because I could fall asleep on the way back from the Gym (we lived in Kalakshetra Colony then). That was the longest distance my fledgling mind could fathom. Similarly when I looked from one end of the Gymkhana Club lawn to the other I felt like a Captain Cook contemplating a recently discovered continent.

Twenty years on Madras is still a marvel. I visited recently and was amazed by the smallness of everything. Thiruvika bridge (Adyar bridge) is not the greatest feat of modern engineering I had imagined it to be and the drive to Gymkhana takes about the same time as from Gulmohar Park to Connaught Place - a drive I make every day thinking "what a wonderfully short drive".

Of course, I have been to Madras countless times since my days as a wide-eyed contemplator of vastness two decades ago - so why all this excitement now? I think it's because they've taken down the hoardings. You see, once they take down the hoardings, you only see tree cover, and buildings that barely break the tree top, and you realise that Madras is a lovely little town. All pretensions of being a metro are over, and you thank your lucky stars that you were born in a city that does not want to be the next Shanghai. It has the kind of trees that with one lazy extension of the arm will envelop the road below and create the greenest of avenues. Delhi possibly has more trees, but can never hope to be as green because the roads are too wide to embrace.

Which makes me wonder, what is the true nature of Madras - the bustling IT and manufacturing hub, or the overgrown fishing village? Probably both. I'd like to think that lazy town will never be driven out of Madras. Once, in my heady days gathering frequent flier miles I wondered at the stagnation of Madras. I figured if I lived there, I would live pretty much the same way in which my parents and grandparents lived - know the same set of old timers, same gymkhana club, kutcheris at the music academy, plays at the Museum Theater, house parties, Elliot's beach,dosa brunch on sunday afternoon, movie in the evening.

But now I realize that's what I do anyway, when I can - I still prefer to hang out with familiar faces, and our cook in Delhi has been trained to make dosas in the morning, house parties are always preferable to clubs (too much noise, leakage of paisa). It's just easier to do in Madras.

As I looked at the clock...

2008-01-21T20:54:00.000+05:30

waiting for 16:45, and my class to end, I began jotting down a few thoughts about 'time'. I will not be the last to contemplate time. And there in, I suppose, lies its beauty. You could think of this as a brief history of inane thoughts about time.

Some have approached the topic from a scientific point of view. Famously, it is considered the fourth dimension. Less brilliant folk have often viewed it as an everlasting expanse - much like the ocean or the skies.

In this expanse, there are no constants. What may feel like a small speck may in fact be a galaxy, an eddy, a universe in itself. Hence the cliches - "it seems like just yesterday when...", "it's been ages"...It is also this vastness that fosters imagination, of what may be just over the horizon or just under the surface, or just beyond the furthest star. Imagining how time might be spent in the future must be one of the most popular forms of spending time near at hand!

Another key aspect of time is that it is at once inexhaustible and perishable (a bit, I suppose like semen, but that's a thought for another day). The perishable nature of time is quite clearly a human invention, and has received undue attention, especially in an MBA education (time value of money, yield management etc.). To return to our favourite analogy it is like obsessing about the possibility of falling off the earth while sailing the seas rather than enjoying the journey. Obviously, this obsession arises from the obsession with our own perishability.

It is easier to focus on perishability, but personally, it is far more comforting to focus on time's inexhaustible nature. It is the comfort of knowing that at the end of the day, 5, 10, 20, 40 years from now, there will be food, shelter, clothing and love in some measure. It is the knowledge that after my time, there will be another, and another.

In my insignificance, I find strength.

Listen and fall in love

2007-12-22T05:30:00.000+05:30

Listen to the Dadra in Khamaj...you really must. Listen

Strings

2007-12-21T02:50:00.000+05:30

A few weeks back I discovered that my grand uncle too had a college radio show for Indian classical music, at Texas A&M, where he teaches. And so I realised that the one thing I could take credit for, was after all, in the genes! One of the pieces he played on the show I listened to was by the Turtle Island String Quartet. What was it doing in a show on Indian classical music?

As it happens TISQ was no ordinary string quartet. To begin with, its music is more jazz than classical. Next, it incorporates a lot of what can be described as that old cliche - "world sounds" - in its music. The primary mover of the quartet after all has the last name Balakrishnan. The piece on the show was heavily influenced by carnatic music, and with the interaction of the big band, sounded surprisingly pure and lovely.

I find the String Quartet to be the most accessible of the western classical set-ups. Whoever came up with the idea of 4 instruments so similar and yet so distinct in their roles interacting with precision and fluidity (without the aid of a conductor to keep the beat) was a genius.

My first exposure to the string quartet was at Middlebury College where over two nights the Takacs String Quartet played 6 string quartets of Bela Bartok. I remember in particular being mesmerised by one piece that was so playful and mischievous and ever-changing that it reminded me of a Tom and Jerry cartoon. See, I told you the music was accessible!

More recently, the Madras String Quartet came out with an album called Resonance in which they add harmonics (completely absent in Indian classical music) to Carnatic music pieces. The outcome is quite beautiful, though I'm not sure I could sit through an entire concert of carnatic music without any improvisation whatsoever.

I hope I get to listen to more such strings sometime soon!

P.S. the radio show with the TISQ piece is here.
And check out the Madras String Quartet playing a Mysore Vasudevachar piece here

Kaakaa

2007-12-19T16:52:00.002+05:30

I don't see any crows around in Hyderabad. I've been here just a year, so I don't know if they were a significant part of the Hyderabad community. I don't see them much in Madras either - and I know that there were hordes of them growing up.

I had an ongoing battle with one such bird that had made its home in a palmyra palm just outside our house. Its eggs must have just hatched because every time I went on to the terrace it dived down and tried to claw my scalp. I was timid at first and then I pretended I was at war and the Spitfire was attacking my ship (admittedly not very original thinking on my part). And so I occupied myself for two evenings.

So where have all the kaakaas gone? It's a bird that a lot of us love to hate, but it was a part of growig up. How many times did we laugh (silently or not) when the kaakaa 'peed' on an unsuspecting soul?

There are a few possibilities. One, I'm no longer a child, so simply don't notice these things anymore. The optimistic theory is that since Exnora started cleaning up our neighbourhoods, there's not that much garbage on which they can feed. Third, they're going extinct like the Indian vulture because of pesticides. The last is the most worrying because crows were very hardy to begin with, and there were pesticides around 20 years ago (that's 2 decades! I've just realised how old I am!). So there must be a hell of a lot of pesticides now for them to disappear.

By the way, does anyone regularly estimate crow populations in cities? Wannabe consultants - get cracking.

Walking through campus I could not help wonder

2007-12-14T00:22:00.001+05:30

One reason I like all nighters (or close to all nighters) is breakfast. Just like the best part of writing a paper is the act of stapling. So the other day after a particularly arduous night (recording a skit for negotiation class on how to do business in Israel - Satish made a hilarious Israeli and I played the perplexed Indian - given my usual state of being, I did not act much), I walked tired and elated toward my semiya upma. And then I saw a strange sight. As the dew rolled of the transcluscent blade of grass in the morning light (this is my attempt to sound like J. Krishnamurthi, btw) I saw a gardener watering trees. It took a while to sink in - he was watering a full grown tree, one of many in a line, not a little itsy bitsy plant. This is like breast feeding a 15 year old.

Which made me wonder, in this water-table-receding-thanks-to-DLF land of ours, why not make do with neem and tamarind trees - they're nice enough. And we are surely secure enough to be able to make a nice 'retro' statement on campus.

And then there are the large plastic banners that come up every time there is more than one person speaking at an event. These are at least 6 feet x 3 feet (or so they seem) and are put up for precisely 2 days. The target audience is unclear, since students get countless emails(and now SMS)reminding them to make their presence felt (but not too much - don't want stupid questions) at these talking-head events. And the paneists surely know who they are. One banner is okay, but at our Leadership Summit(a superb event on all counts) there were 6 'tracks' and each had their own smaller banners, to go with the 'main banners' all over the place. If these are recyclable, that's fine. If not, they should at least be donated to the International Red Cross Society- I am sure they'll make great tent material.

I could not help being reminded of Christo and Jean Claude's "Gates" installment in Central Park. It was a beautiful,strangely moving experience (especially looking down from my boss's single engine aircraft). But as you leave and head back home, you can't help wondering what the heck they are going to do with all that orange stuff once it's over.

Learning from Truck Drivers

2007-11-02T18:33:00.000+05:30

Several months ago, Fuco and I were on our way to Neemrana from Delhi. We were keen to test out our new Swift on the highway. One way or another, our departure was delayed. We had gone to friends' place for a 'quick visit' and ended up having dinner there. So we set out very late and were quite apprehensive about driving at night.

Especially because of the truck drivers. You know, the ones that spread AIDS around the country, are always hurtling on the wrong side of the road, and have their lights on perpetual high beam. We were setting off at precisely the time that the truck traffic in and out of Delhi becomes heavy.

And, what a surprise! There were many trucks, no doubt, but all very, very well behaved. None of the on-coming trucks had their high-beams on (or if they did, they dipped when there was on-coming traffic). All of them stuck to the left lane, except to overtake. And all of them would move aside with the mere flicker of the headlights. It was such a pleasure!

It was as though these men were old and wise. They knew all about Prisoner's Dilemma, and had arrived at a pact not to screw their brethren. Maybe they met each other in the dhaba, and as they said their good byes, said "Drive Safe" in a low, serious, knowing tone.

On the contrary, it was the educated lot from the cities in their SUVs that were the toughest to negotiate. They would doggedly stay in the right lane (as in the wrong lane) and you would have to honk several times. Then just as you were giving up and doing the inevitable left side overtake, they would swerve to the left. The city, it seems, is too large for a pact among drivers.

P.S. on a recent trip to Ramgarh in Uttaranchal, only a minority of truck drivers were similarly well behaved, not sure why. Maybe each highway has it's own truck driver culture, and maybe the truck drivers "do as the Romans do" when they visit a particular highway.

Karva Chauth

2007-11-02T01:30:00.000+05:30

I am sure I am not going to be popular after this blog. First things first - I am from the south, and so know nothing about this festival. So this whole post may be a simple reflection of my ignorance.

This was my first exposure to Karva Chauth on anything like a grand scale. First, the photography competition and then the special dinner at the dining hall in honour of this great tradition. It was very hearterning to see so many men looking smug on the same evening, with tilak on their foreheads. Most, incidentally, were wearing simple, "normal" clothes,looking quite pathetic next to their decked up wives.

I find it somewhat stunning that in 2007, on a campus as cutting edge as ours, a festival so regressive in spirit is celebrated with such fervour. This is after all a festival which emphasises the need for the wife to make a sacrifice for the happiness and long life of the husband. As usual, it is the woman with all the responsibilities towards the well-being of everyone else, while smiling and looking gorgeous all the way. We all know, after all, what women are made for - men.

Must our loving wives really prove themselves in this ritualistic fashion? Aren't there other ways in which they prove their devotion (putting up with us, for example?). Why must they prove their love and sacrifice any way? How should we prove our devotion to them - give them the honour of being the mothers of our babies, not get fired, flowers twice a year?

Yes, I know I'm ranting, and I'm not sure exactly why. Maybe it's because I'm feeling guilty that Fuco is earning and running a house in Delhi, while I run around on a gorgeous campus. Or maybe I'm being a cry baby because no one is fasting for me. After all, I went through the 'kanya-daanam' ritual when I got married - my wife being handed over like a piece of property. It wasn't a proud moment, and not one that I cherish. But it was unavoidable - if we wanted the rest of the hoopla surrounding a traditional southie wedding (except for the mallus who have far more progressive, simple weddings), then this was an unavoidable step. And everyone knows that the bride is not property.

So therein lies my hope. There were so many people who otherwise seem sensible who celebrated Karva Chauth, so I am surely missing something. Maybe all the women who undertook Karva Chauth just did it because it was an integral part of some grand fun ritual involving the in-laws and the hubbie. Better still, maybe no one fasted, and just needed an excuse to pull out the fine stuff. Maybe it's actually romantic in a twisted way (sati would be...oh so romantic).

But in their heart of hearts, if even one person truly expects a wife to fast, (or is disappointed when she does not), then Karva Chauth cannot be a day of celebration.

Pathological need to classify

2007-10-06T00:38:00.000+05:30

I just wrote an exam on the management of organizations. And essentially what it boils down to is that dozens of people have looked at what's going on around them, and each has come up with 2300 different ways to classify. Classify pretty much anything. So we have frameworks to understand leadership styles, leadership 'traits', team dynamics, motivational tactics, organization structures,organizational networks, frames of reference...and I'm sure I'm missing a few.

Now I know intuitively how these frameworks are supposed to help.(Most commonly depicted in dumbed down 2x2 matrices - "see where it says low-low, this is very different from high-high - I know this is a very difficult concept to grasp, but really this provides us with deep insight"). But the clincher is the fact that any one thing, say X, could fall in category A,B,C...depending on the 'particular circumstances of the scenario'. And who is to say whether an organization displays high sociability or low sociability. My "high" is could very be your "low" (especially if I can't walk straight and you have to take me home). Better still, X can be classified into category A an B at the same time. Then what in the world is the point of this whole damn exercise?

I'm told to relax. It is not about categories and classification. My dear chap, it's a way of thinking, to approach a problem etc. etc. All very well, until you start taking all of this too seriously, and it permeates everything that we do, all the time. And when it's about to us. Dravidians vs. Aryans, BC vs. OBC, Iyers vs. Iyengars. Indians vs. Pakistanis, Hutus vs. Tutsis. Enough Said.

The Old Man and the Sa

2007-09-30T01:20:00.000+05:30

One site I log into quite often is that of the ITC Sangeeth Research Academy. Every month they feature a musician in the "Artist of the Month" section. A couple of years back, the artist of the month was Yeshwanthbuva Joshi, and the featured track was in the raga Kamod.

Kamod is not a raga that is performed very often (I am not sure why exactly), so this looked promising. The picture of the man suggested that he was well past his prime - he looked like he was about 85.

All this was in some hotel room in DC, late at night,missing my Fuco, after a few beers at dinner,after a day of meetings with PhDs to convey why their darling models may require improvement,editing documents,figuring out which young consultant should do what and when, and amazed at the fact that at one point I saw travel as one of the pluses of my job. (On this last point, a frequent source of solace was checking up on hotel points and frequent flier status). So in the need of rejuenvation, I clicked 'play'.

What I heard was one of the most youthful renditions that I've ever heard. The voice may have been a little shaky, but the power was immense. Until then I had not realised what a romantic raga Kamod could really be,and even now, it is this rendition that I immerse myself in when I miss Fuco. I still wonder whether he was thinking about any particular love lost or found when we was singing Kamod. He sang with such abandon, and this was after being "one of the foremost representatives of the Gwalior gharana for over fifty years". Fifty years, and the man sings as free as a plankton.

That's the other thing that initially upset me, and then completely overwhelmed me. Fifty years this man has been singing beautifully, and I had never heard of him. Indian classical music is one of the few areas that I know I know something about. I thought I knew more than most about which artist belonged to which "gharana" (school of hindustani music)and what music from each gharana sounded like. I had heard of DV Paluskar, Omkarnath Thakur, Malini Rajurkar, Nissar Hussain Khan,Veena Sahasrabuddhe...,Ulhas Kashalkar. All of them from the Gwalior Gharana. But I had never heard, or heard of, this man.

Now, this is not about me and my ignorance. But just think of this man who has been singing, and singing passionately, for over five decades,with none but a handful listening. Think of what must motivate him. From how deep in his core must his music percolate? Think of how intense his experience of life has been. How many other such genuine articles might there be?

P.S. you can listen to the song here:

Aung-San-Suu-Who?

2007-09-27T02:32:00.000+05:30

Monks vs. Generals. In Burma. None of our business. We only shelter monks from Tibet.

Democracy is not our problem. Oil and natural gas is. So we stay silent (just like monks - see, we are showing our solidarity).

So haven't learned from the mistakes of the great Americans during the cold war. They supported a whole bunch of despots from Saddam to Taliban (for oil and natural gas), and now their collective arse is being munched upon.

No, don't log off, I'm not just another unrealistic bleeding heart hippie. Consider this. Sooner or later, there is going to be democracy in Burma, or for that matter, in China. Who is Burma going to give their natural gas to then? No discounts on offer for India. Who will fight to insurgents from the NorthEast who take shelter in camps in Burma (sorry, Myanmar)? The Generals? Ha!

We are supposed to be a regional superpower. We are supposed to be a beacon of democracy. Then let's for our sake show some foresight and say something, and while we're at it, grow some balls.

Honourable Minister for Wood and Leather

2007-09-27T01:48:00.000+05:30

We have won a World Cup. Yippee! Great run of close matches, incredible R.P. Singh, surprisingly flashy Gambhir, Yuvi on a Red Bull overdose, mentally imbalanced ever-muttering Sreesanth, wonderful shot selection by our friendly neighbours etc. etc. It was really, truly, special and great entertainment.

Fellow circket-is-a-religion-brethren, let that word sink in - entertainment. Bat, ball, six, four out. And I am very happy that we have a minister for this special form of entertainment. Unfortunately, we do not have a Minister for Pornography, but the future generations can work on that. Right now I am glad for Mr. Pawar.

Here is a shrewd, brave Maratha, known for his administrative acumen. And as a man of such high calibre, he has rightly chosen to focus his attention on wood and leather. No, not food and weather - that is for mere suicidal farmers to worry about - wood and leather.

This man has his priorities right, and I salute him. When pesky little reporters (such as Magsaysay award winner P.Sainath) were pleading with him to waste his time visiting his fellow (hard working) Marathi agriculturists, he instead took the bold step of slogging it out in the pavilion at Lord's (it was a big sacrifice- he had to wear a jacket and tie, you see) watching our Gods (playing hard).

His judgment may be called into question. He did after cast the single vote opposing Twenty20 at an ICC meeting not so long ago. But we must forgive him - he was suffering from a splitting headache - again those lazy bloody fools trying to create edible items from mud (what a stupid idea - who are these morons?!).

Praise to our men in blue.
Praise to our Honourable Minister of Wood and Leather.
And someone, please kill off those bloody farmers once and for all!

Nothing, really.

2007-06-13T00:20:00.000+05:30

I'm not sure why I'm writing this, or to whom.

I don't believe in blogs. I've always wondered about the psyche of someone who thinks his voice is so important it has to be heard. I admire it and detest it. I wish I could be so ballsy - "here, this is what I have to say - it's important, and so well crafted it deserves this beautiful space". And I always wished I knew about something in such depth that others would listen. And I detest it for precisely the same reason - how could someone be so ballsy? Hormones?

My wife notes that when we have an argument, I react most strongly when I am affected by tone, not the content of what she says. She might say "you're a selfish,uncaring ass", but if said quietly and without an element of surprise, I might very well agree with alacrity. That makes me feel like a shallow wimp, but it's true. And I suspect it's true for many of us. There was a director at the consulting firm I used to work in. He was a superstar because anything he said, for example, "Going forward, we should consider all alternatives" would sound like deep, deep insight from Aristotle himself. Mostly because it was conveyed in a deep, smooth measured baritone. Add to it the fact that it emanated from a mysterious looking speaker phone, and the effect on anyone within earshot was akin to Charlie's first glimpse of the chocolate river in Mr. Wonka's factory. Incidentally, why do so many power point slides start with "Going forward...". What other timeframe is of interest to anyone?

Okay, I've been sufficiently cussed in my first, and likely last mumbling. I really have nothing original to say, so I'll continue procrastinating in other ways.