Morality and legality

The strange thing about us humans is that we first put in place systems and procedures to serve a purpose and then promptly forget the purpose. Thereafter, we either start worshiping the systems we have put in place or think of the systems and the purpose as antagonists warring with each other.

This case of morality and legality is a prime example of that behavior. What are laws but a way of codifying the existing morality of society? And the entire process of a legal system is to drive society to live by that morality, ensuring punishment for those who fail to do so. And, yet, we keep talking about morality and legality, as though the latter is inimical to the former.

The vagaries of human interactions are so many that the law, indeed, cannot perfectly encompass all of them. So, yes, there are cases where what is illegal may not be immoral; and what is legal may be immoral. Even in the best of systems that humanity can put in place. The fact IS that perfection in this will always elude humanity, as in most other things to do with Society.

The bigger problem lies in where the current morality of Society itself is not 'moral'. Most of the inequities in Society's treatment of classes, communities, genders may be considered moral, sanctioned by tradition, but in their inherent unfairness be, in fact, immoral by an absolute standard, if indeed one can conceive of a common absolute standard of morality to exist.

Therein lies the biggest area where legality becomes an enemy of morality. IF the law perpetuates the inequity, the law itself can be said to be immoral. At least to those who face the brunt of the unfairness, it would be indubitably immoral and, therefore, requiring to be changed.

There is also a problem where the law runs ahead of Society's accepted code of morality. When the law makes things illegal, which Society at large still considers moral, the law will be SEEN to be immoral. The worst problem arises when the people who are there to enforce the law themselves are not convinced of the morality of the law. THEN, enforcement suffers by default, the law only remains on paper while it is flouted in practice.

Nothing is more dangerous to the stability of Society than to have laws selectively enforced. For, then, the respect for the 'rule of the law' goes down, leading to partial or total anarchy.

When the legal system is not merely reflecting the current morality of Society and is intending to change the morals, it is important to spend time and effort on educating Society about the need for a change in the morals. Most especially, and as a priority, to educate the law enforcement authorities.

Laws, even when properly enforced, can only control the behavior of people. That is necessary, certainly, but not sufficient. To truly change Society you need to modify attitudes. To modify attitudes you need to educate, not just attempt to enforce.

Failing that well-meaning laws will remain just on paper, flouted with impunity or paid lip service to or adhered to only in the fear of getting caught.And THAT's how a country can have a wonderfully egalitarian legal system and continue to be classist or racist as a Society.

Come to think of it, that about seems to describe the whole world - except where there is not even that wonderful legal system in place!

Another Humorist

There is this problem with being a humorist. You keep guessing the punchline, expecting kinky ways of describing things and so on, to the extent that when someone says that there is another guy who writes humor, you are almost like, 'Oh! Yeah! Let me see." Not because of any competitive envy but because when you can guess the punchlines, the read is less funny...and, so, it takes a lot more to impress a humorist with humor. At least, that's the way it works with me...I mean, there are those people who start laughing all the more when they guess the punchline, and from the moment they guess it, and there are those who feel bored when that happens. I belong to the latter lot. (Yeah! True! You will find humorists laugh when no-one else does as well but THAT is because of the ability to SEE that joke...)

So, then I get into blogging and there is this guy, calling himself 'The Fool', who is also supposed to write humor. Bloggers come in all shapes and sizes, writing in all niches...you know parenting, travel etc etc...but almost everyone claims to write 'Humor', except only those who feel it is a shame to be writing any such frivolous thing. So, this 'supposed to be write humor' always has me approaching the blog with a metaphorical sneer.

Surprise! Here was one guy who actually DID write humor, when he wrote humor; a unique brand of humor - astringent, cynical, tangy - and capable of making you chuckle or even laugh out aloud. Withal, there was this refreshing feeling of an underlying honesty...the strong conviction that the author speaks from the heart.

Take this for example

"Parent Bloggers of the World, Spam me with your blog-links; A new customer is born today"

THIS was his way of announcing on Facebook that his son was born!

I get ahead of my story as usual. When I went into his blog and read this Great Indian Bride Hunt, I was hooked. You know all that I said above...that honesty, that cynical humor etc...that was what I found there.

We became online friends and went on to conducting a 'Writing Workshop' - a typical case of the blind leading the blind. We, indeed, SAW it that way...that we were there as much to learn as the others...but the fact of running it made it seem to the others that we had it in us to teach...anyway, as in most social media ventures, where the admins are not active on it, the workshop sort of petered out.

Not without causing one output, though. This chap, I and Radha collaborated on and put out an anthology of three crime stories - Sirens Spell Danger. In the process of putting together that one was my next major revelation about my new friend.

One of the things about writing is the process of beta-reading. So, you write something; you know it is absolute deathless prose and so you send it to people for what is called a 'beta-read', where they can tell you if there are areas of improvement; of course, you say that you expect honest criticism because you know your writing is near-flawless and, so, if it is honest, it can only be praise and, if anything, there will be a typo or two; and the damn beta-readers come out with pages of criticism whereupon you make wax figures of them, stick red-hot pins into them and dredge out all the curses that humanity ever invented; and, then, reluctantly change the MS and toss it back at the betas with the implicit 'You better like it or you will not survive the experience'.

I am sure that my friend was not really immune to indulging in waxworks and pins...the point is that he wrote and rewrote four times to get out the final story in that anthology. That capacity in him to junk almost the entire story or huge sections of it, if someone whose advice he respects tells him that it does not work...well, all I can say is that, in most authors' cases, what would be junked is that person and not the writing!

So, it is about time to introduce TF Carthick's first solo book - 'Unfairy Tales' - about which all I have to say is said there

Carthick has the unique talent to look upon the familiar from a strange vantage point and make it appear funny and wonderful. Here he applies it to well-known fairy tales to make them seem hilarious and fascinating. Be warned! If reading this book permanently skews the way you see the world, I am not to be held responsible.

Ebook: https://www.amazon.in/Carthicks-Unfairy-Tales-retelling-seven-ebook/dp/B0782P93G6

Paperback: https://www.pustakmandi.com/pre-order/Carthicks-Unfairy-Tales-T-F-Carthick

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/37539849-carthick-s-unfairy-tales

Of a winner

We are born; we live; we die; and we fight endlessly about our beliefs about what happens after we die. While we live, we seek relentlessly to 'succeed' and we define ourselves and others as winners and losers based on the achievement of 'success'.

The yardsticks we use for success are all out there in the world. Our material possessions, our position in Society, the people who respect and care for us...and, yet, when we see someone succeed against odds, we respect them the more. Like when a Dipa Karmakar, who despite flat feet and lack of top class support, becomes a top gymnast. There is something in us that understands the inadequacy of the material measures we use and appreciates the fact that it is the character that is needed to achieve success which makes a winner.

But, yet, we do need the person to achieve the external success before we appreciate the character which caused them to succeed. The fact, though, is that it is invariably the character that makes a person a winner, whether or not the life and efforts of that person were crowned by 'success' as it is popularly understood.

And, yet, what indeed is character? It is easy for you to be an optimist, when life is going well for you. It is easy to be compassionate and empathetic when you are yourself not in dire need of compassion and empathy. It is easy to be determined when you are confident of success. It is easy to be courageous when the risks are minimal. It is easy to be honest when the consequences of honesty or the rewards of dishonesty are not too important to you. It is easy to be generous when it involves no major sacrifice on your part.

Life can throw curve balls at anyone. When your life turns to one of pain and suffering, can you maintain your ability to laugh? When you are yourself in serious trouble, can you rise above your tendency to self-pity and show compassion and help others in need? When you are fighting a battle which cannot be won, can your determination rise to the challenge of living every day to the full? When your life and your well-being are balanced on a knife edge every day, do you have the courage to rise above the inclination to depression? When you need something badly, can you still be generous with it?

When a life is so lived that the person's character will remain stable or become better when put to the test, THEN is that life the life of a winner. Other 'winners' are mere impostors, who have not been found out yet.

It is a privilege to even engage with one such true winner in a lifetime. To have been born to one - my mom, to have met one in office life and, now, to have known one on Social media is a privilege beyond compare.

I have written of my mom in Child-Like. I have mentioned the colleague in 'Do you have the courage to face going slowly blind?'

This is a tribute to a man who suffered from cancer and passed away recently; a man who never ever put up a single self-pitying post on Social Media, through all that suffering and could still find life funny; a man who could still take interest in the pursuits of his friends and help them where he could; a man who I wish I could emulate.

Rest in peace, Bennett Parrish! In the modern parlance, YOU are a true winner. Or, in the words of the Bard...

"His life was gentle and the elements so mixed in him that Nature can stand up and say to all the world, 'This was a man'."

The Demonetization Derby

It is tough on us bloggers. If you ignore current happenings, especially when they are on top of everyone's mind, you are not being socially conscious. If you do write on them, you are hungry to ride the current fad. Hitherto I have done the former and been the chap who is utterly self-centered. This once, maybe, I should try the other one and ride my horse into the demonetization derby, alongside all those other opinions. The advantage is that there is this serious possibility that the one side that I decide to favor would share the post and the other side with all sorts of name-calling will make it go viral. (Yes! Negative publicity IS the best publicity on social media)

Unfortunately, though, I am a middle-of-the-roader - a vanishing species that still believes that one should make up your mind on an action based on the merits of the action and not based on who is doing it. Once upon a time, it was called a neutral view and lauded for its impartiality. NOW it is mere fence-sitting causing that unpleasant feeling in the crotch. The problem is that to assess any action on its merits you need to get neutral information and THAT is rarer than a unicorn's horn.

I cannot even make up my mind entirely on whether demonetization is good or bad. It is easy to dress up a thing as being necessary for things like fighting corruption or terrorism and get people to feel good about it. It is as easy to oppose it, since no action is a magic wand that will make problems go away, and, thus, there is enough scope to attack it on the basis of those portions of a problem that it will not tackle.

I see these views about how it did not work before - in 1978, most recently - and I think 'Hey! It is a bad move. Why don't people learn from History?' Then I remember that, in 1978, there really was no IT sector and no means of really tracking who exchanged how much, at least to the extent of identifying who is worth pursuing with raids and who is not. Now, since such tracking is possible, the lessons of History are not all that clear. AND no-one tells me exactly WHY it will not work NOW or, indeed, HOW they will make it work.

I see views about how black money is mainly stashed in Real Estate, Gold and foreign accounts. Sounds rather stupid to be attacking it with demonetizing currency notes. But if someone HAS bought Real Estate and Gold with cash, then THAT cash would still be lying around somewhere - with that seller, perhaps. I mean, I do know that the recipients COULD have brought it back into the so-called 'White Economy' but could they have brought it ALL back? Maybe they could, maybe not, but no-one is really telling me about that. No-one is really claiming that ALL the cash transactions currently happening are NOT the so-called 'black economy' transactions and no-one is also making ANY legitimate statement of HOW much of that cash would BE unclaimed because it IS black. AND no-one is also saying how likely is it that the people from WHOM this real estate WAS/IS bought by the big sharks would willingly deal in cash going forth - after all, not ALL of them are seasoned black money operators. OR what would be in place to track gold sales/purchases going forth.

Everyone talks about Hawala transactions as a modus operandi for getting money in and out of the country and claim that the big sharks would not be holding cash. But, exactly how much money do the Hawala dealers actually have to keep for operational requirements in order to do these transactions? No-one speaks about that or about what would happen to that money, now. The Hawala dealers will now approach a super-Hawala dealer or what?

But, really, it HAS got to be a political conspiracy since this move has served to destroy the campaign money of opposition parties. But...tell me, please, HOW much money has it destroyed? I mean, yes it is political and all that, but THAT money would still count as black money, would it not? If it can somehow be converted, please let me know how and how much is practically possible, and not things like 'They will find a way somehow' which any idiot can say, while sitting in a tea-shop, to his cronies. I don't need an 'expert' opinion in order to get THAT piece of wisdom.

It is quite possible that ALL this money would amount to a pittance and hardly worth the trouble. AND, even where there ARE benefits of a move, it has to be set off against the costs of the move. AND the costs - financial, social and economic - can be very high. The pain of transition is something everyone IS facing now, some far more than others, obviously. But where is any neutral stance on whether the transition is worth it? I do know that it probably is not ALL good but, unfortunately, any opposing view portrays it as ALL bad and THAT is not something that I can accept either.

If someone would ADMIT to the good AND the bad, weigh both without being dismissive about either side of the coin, then I may be able to believe him. Unfortunately, even where someone is willing to admit the good (or the bad) it is on the lines of 'Yes, this may happen but...' You can dismiss anything that way. I mean I could say, "Yes, studying at IIT may give you a great job and prospects but imagine having to spend almost all the year away from home for four years, facing the pressures of a competitive academic environment etc etc" and make it sound like it is totally worthless to do it...to those who know not much about it. AND, of course, do it in the reverse, "Yes, you may have to starve for a few months but at the end of it you will be a millionaire." AND ALL opinions are patterned after this sort of one-sided crap, if not outright ignoring anything that is seen to favor the 'other side'.

The issue is that there is NO way of assessing the benefits and the costs, from any of the current reports/opinions. Rhetoric is merely mud-slinging unless when backed by facts; and, in cases of finance, facts are important only based on numbers. Every move has its pros and cons. Thus the mere existence of the cons cannot create the idea of the inadvisability of a move AND, of course, the mere existence of the pros does not make a move advisable. Any opinion on any action can only be made by weighing the pros against the cons and 'weighing' implies that you need to be able to put numbers to them.

Otherwise, it is like that hoary old question in probabilities - "The fan above your head can fall or not fall. Considering the risk, how can you sit beneath the fan?" The risk, in this case, is in the probability of the fan falling - which would be less than one-in-a-million, say. The question, though, asks you to implicitly assume that it is 50:50.

THAT about sums up the way people, on all sides of a debate with no exceptions, seem to discuss anything these days. Which is what makes the middle-of-the-roader throw up his hands, take up gardening, and leave all these socially relevant write-ups to other hands.

Olympian regrets

Goal of Team India at the Olympics: Rio jao. Selfies lo. Khaali haat wapas aao. What a waste of money and opportunity.

I know that there is this almost insane interest in gaining publicity at any cost. There is this intense fascination with getting something to go viral on social media that borders on obsession. What I had not realized is the lengths to which some people can go in pursuit of this obsession; the sheer callousness with which they can hurt and calumniate others for what they see as their place in the sun. So, yes, this tweet above was an education.

To be sure, there are apologists; people who see this as a bitter exposition of the truth of Indian Athletics. I cannot see this as being so, either. If it had been a statement on how India has failed to produce world-class athletes, it would have been a commentary on our own sporting infrastructure. Had it been a criticism of the ability - physical or mental or both - of our athletes, one could see it as a possible conclusion from their performances, bitterly though we may dispute those conclusions or offer the lack of sporting facilities as the reason.

But, no, it was a comment on their dedication to their sports - not merely of one or two but a sweeping character assassination of ALL the athletes in 'Team India'. With no reason for that conclusion - no stories of late-night partying the day before the competitions or athletes neglecting their practice routines or whatever - the statement almost borders on slander. To seek cheap publicity based on such a vicious statement, and one can see no other purpose served by such sweeping assertions,...suffice to say that I cannot think of leading a joyful life with a sewer for a mind.

Decency in public life is becoming a thing of the past and in no small part thanks to people like this who are more intent on coining a phrase than in checking for the legitimacy and veracity of what they say. Being controversial cannot be an end in itself; controversy always causes hurt and, when you cause hurt, it better be for a cause, else you are no more than a sadist. And when the cause is no more than publicity-seeking...

One thing people like this forget - no-one is a loser, who puts in his best efforts, no matter what the result of his efforts are. As a country, yes, India should be able to identify and hone sporting talent that can vie with the best in the world. The lack of a sporting culture and sporting infrastructure in the country does make India a loser in the arena of sports, because as a country we certainly are not putting in our best efforts.

At the individual level, each athlete who performs the best that he or she can, given the circumstances - and most, if not all, of them do - IS a winner and should be respected as such, even if his or her best  efforts on the day is not enough to win. THAT is something which would be clear to any self-respecting person.

A big part of what ails this country is precisely this. Someone, regardless of the odds against, attempts something. If he/she succeeds we are ALL too willing to take the success as our success and revel in it. If he/she fails though...it is not merely his/her fault but he/she is a duplicitous person out to cheat us of our tax money. When we have done scant little to support the success, we really have no right to revel in it; AND, when we not only do scant little but also revel in successes, then it is only right that WE accept the responsibility for the failures and do not foist it on them.

It is only when we recognize how little we ARE doing to foster success that we will develop a sporting culture in this country. As long as we rest content in blaming those who try for not succeeding, nothing can change...for the better. As for reveling in the successes - be it a Sania Mirza or a Sundar Picchai - time enough to be doing it when we AND they see the environment of this country as the prime reason FOR the success. People can succeed 'despite'; it is when they succeed 'because of' that the country has reason to feel a participant in the success.

But as long as the self-proclaimed 'opinion leaders' of this country will prefer to shoot the messenger for the message, there can be no hope. It is ironic that precisely those, who are letting the country down, are the ones who are most vociferous in complaining about others doing so.

But, then, THAT is the nature of humanity. People who love holding the mirror up to other people seldom have the honesty to look in it themselves!

School Reunion Again

Reunion time again! P.Suresh, Subroto and Anand had organized the reunion at Alankrita Resorts in Hyderabad, with the backing of Suchitra Ella (Naidu, that was). Suchitra, who with her husband had founded Bharat Biotch,  had negotiated the resort and made all the travel arrangements in Hyderabad.

The reunion had started in the train for the eight of us who traveled together to Hyderabad by the Charminar Express. Gautam, Subhadra, B. Ramesh, G.Lakshmi and her husband, Selvam, Devashis Ghosh and I were together, giggling and shrieking like school kids. Luckily no-one from the compartment came and complained about fifty-year-olds creating a ruckus. Luckily for them, that is, or who knows we may have put a thumb to our noses, waggled our fingers and stuck a tongue out at them. Except Ramesh that is (the Canadian dentist NOT the one who runs up mountains for light relief, who featured in the Mustang trek series) - but that was because he was too busy running in his mind all the arrangements for the video conference that had to be set up to allow all those batchmates in far-flung areas who had failed to turn up for the meet.

The first program of day one was a visit to Bharat Biotech and to a temple thereafter. I, unfortunately, was too sleepy to make the trip (AND, as anyone who knows me knows, the sight of any office puts me to sleep), so I had dropped off when the group was all set to leave. That part of the reunion, therefore, is a secret from me as was the gift that Suchitra Ella gave each member of the visiting delegation!

The evening was spent along with Ramesh, fiddling around to find the absentee classmates from the USA. We did manage to snag Kumaraguru - but then, considering that HE was the most enthusiastic of the whole lot of us, that was no miracle.

After a sumptuous breakfast,we departed the next day to the Golconda fort. Bus trips, as everyone knows, is a bane particularly for people whose lower backs send frequent SMSes about their age - but not this time. Time had reversed itself for us and it was as much fun as any school trip had ever been - more, in fact, because there was no school teacher to call out "Silence, Children". Pratibha's mom was around, representing THAT age group but, as we all knew, she loved her bit of fun as much as everyone of us did. P. Suresh showed an unexpected talent for dance, possibly inspired by the presence and company of Suchitra Sarede (Narain, that was) and, also possibly by the apt choice of the song by S. Nalini. (OR, maybe, I mistook their writhing in pain - by my rendering of the song - for a dance?)

The group photographs were all at the Golconda fort. We went in with a guide, who spoke so much like one of our school teachers that it reminded us of school all over again. Any time now, we were expecting him to say, "If you talk, I will kneel down" as one of our teachers was wont to say. He, luckily, escaped that mishap since, now that we did remember every now and then that we were adults, we may probably have insisted on his keeping that promise! We did go around the lower ramparts but neatly avoided climbing to the top citing a lack of time. THAT part of our childhood has come in handy all our lives - giving reasonable excuses for not doing what we did not want to do.

After lunch, it was time to relax and catch up on each others' lives. Not that much catching up was needed for most of them, since they seem to have updated each other daily, from the time they brushed their teeth to the time they started snoring. The camaraderie of the last time was still there and everyone relaxed and rejoiced in those rare times when letting your hair down (ONLY metaphorically in my case, as with a few others of the balder sex) was not merely safe - it was de rigeur!

The evening was the time of the video conference. Kumaraguru, B.S. Murali, M.S.Lakshmi and Radha joined in first followed later by Balakumar and, I hear, by Amarnath too. Then followed a session of 'Guess who I am?' with the US guys (Radha, in particular). We, in India, were lucky, since Radha appeared in a window by herself with her name else none of us would have guessed who she was, except those who had seen her recently. So, we could have our fun with our own inabilities nicely hidden away.

After a brief spell of Antakshari across the seas, Balakumar - our Hind Ratna awardee of this year - joined in. For a while, there was some conversation between us here and them there. Suddenly, though, the video conference had turned into a reality show with the US lot holding a meet of their own with us guys watching the show on TV. (Nice of us, wasn't it, to arrange a meet between them?) Being no aficionado of reality shows and finding that the bottle of single malt was beckoning us from the room, M.K. Bala, Murali and I skedaddled. Gautam joined us later and, then, we came to know that Amarnath had been woken up - with the hangover of last night's movie - and had joined the reality show.

We checked out on day three. Half the lot had, in fact, either departed the day before or the morning of day three. The truncated group then visited Birla mandir (Gautam stoutly refused saying that he knew of Shiv Mandirs and Vishnu Mandirs, but had never heard of a deity called Birla) and, then the Husain Sagar. The speed-freaks - Gautam, Pratibha, her husband Raja and daughter Padmini took a speed boat trip around. The rest, including me, went by the ferry to the island to look at the immense Buddha statue from up close.

On our return, Subroto proved a real hero. There is this mono-track on which trolleys carrying people on a fun ride runs. This track, unfortunately, just cuts across the paths where people walk in and out with the only protection being a sentry who warns you when a trolley is on its way. When we were coming back, a child ran across just as her mother was looking for something in her bag. P. Suresh and I just managed warning cries as a trolley came rushing in. Before it could hit the child, Subroto had run forward and scooped up the child and managed to jump back with the trolley missing him by inches.

After a visit to Shilparamam - which Gautam, Devashis, Subroto and I converted to a Paradise Biryani visit - we got back to the Railway Station where Venkatesh joined us after a visit to his uncle. The journey back was fun enough but, needless to say, did not have the same excitement as the journey forth.

But then, we will meet again in 2017, so where is the need to pull long faces? Except, of course, for those guys who have missed it every time till now!

Pic: By S. Venkatesh, as far as I know

Mangalyan - So what's the big deal?

Apparently ISRO shot off a rocket and it put a satellite around Mars. Now, unless that satellite can take a top angle shot of Deepika Padukone's assets and get the Nation's largest daily to tweet about it on the lines of "OMG! Deepika's assets are visible from Mars", what is the big deal? The way it goes these days, ISRO needs to arrange for Mangalyan to do exactly that if it is to get TOI to seriously tout its achievement loud enough to be 'heard over the clutter in the Social media". After all, who cares, otherwise, if one more satellite orbits Mars than was the case previously?

The Nation is, of course, delusional in putting up a Mars mission when so many live in poverty. US, Europe and Russia have, of course, eliminated all poverty in their countries, and the people there live in lands of milk and honey. Thus, they can indulge their fantasy to play with fireworks, and, of course, when they do it they are doing it merely in a scientific spirit of inquiry, which has no taint of any delusion whatsoever. India, though, ought not to indulge in any such activity and, if it does, it is purely delusional with no taint of scientific inquiry. We can put up factories to produce fancy cars, splurge huge sums on the latest in Smart-phones and Tabs, erect huge statues to our leaders, get peppered with ads of deodorants and foreign travel - in short, we can indulge ourselves in any manner whatsoever on Earth without having poverty thrown in our faces BUT it can only be delusion that drives us beyond the limits of this planet.

The taint of that delusion carries to the people who worked to make it a reality. After all, what does it matter that these people were able to so precisely engineer the rocket - in a country which has elevated 'chalta hai' to a fine art - and so accurately compute the orbital mechanics that they managed to insert the satellite in Mars orbit without hitch. They did it in their very first attempt - something that no single country had managed before. BUT - big deal - what is the use of such efficiency and such effectiveness when it comes in the service of a mere delusion? AND, after all, even if all these things were about as difficult for a small payload as it would be for a larger one, it was a small payload after all. Better to have a world record payload crashing into the Indian Ocean than a small payload actually orbiting Mars. AND, of course, much better to concentrate on the all-important performance of CSK in the Champion's league T-20 tournaments.

So, well, what if we are used to saying, "It ain't rocket science" to mention that something is not as difficult as rocket science AND this IS rocket science in which the ISRO guys have managed to come off with such flying colors? It is not like they have won the World Cup for India, is it? Even the Prime Minister needs to mention that this small achievement of ISRO's needs to get SOME acclaim - much like hockey players plead for some attention from a cricket-crazy nation.

So, okay, just because Mr. Modi was present there, we will sort of mention them for a day or two - unless someone has tweeted about some other starlet's legs in the meantime. We cannot all be deluded into pampering the egos of the ISRO guys when more important things like this plague the Nation.

In Seventh Heaven

I have always loved this idea of being in Seventh Heaven and, by and large, all it takes me to be in that state is to have absolutely nothing that requires doing. Even in this retired state of mine, alas, there are things to do - most notably that damnable Income Tax return which plagues me once a year. Still, it is not a bad deal being in seventh heaven for the most part of the year, I suppose.

The funny thing is that religions, which are reputed to remain at loggerheads with each other in all interactions and to tend to see the followers of the others as imps from Hell if not the Devil incarnate, are all agreed on the existence of seven heavens. Surprising that there is such unanimity among people who are seen to otherwise claim that the Sun rose in the West merely to contradict the others saying that it rose in the East.

Judaism claims the existence of Seven Heavens - Vilan, Raqiya, Shehaqim, Zebul, Ma'on, Makhon and Araboth. Islam, too, agrees about seven heavens - Rafi, Qaydum, Marum, Arfalun, Hay'oun, Arous and Ajma'. Two major religions, whose followers have the public reputation of being perpetually at loggerheads with each other seem to have a shared vision about, at least, the number of heavens.

Closer home, Hinduism also has its seven heavens. The famed Gayatri Mantra - Om Bhoor Bhuva Svah - lists the first three and the expanded version actually lists all seven. Well - actually, the heaven part starts later but seventh heaven is most certainly present. In order, we have Bhoorloka, Bhuvarloka, Svarloka, Maharloka, Janaloka, Tapa loka and Satyaloka. Bhoorloka is the land of mortals - us, so technically there are only six heavens but the seventh loka translates to seventh heaven!

Now, if only we have unanimity in considering everyone as children of the same god. That would truly be seventh heaven.

I am taking part in The Write Tribe Festival of Words 1st - 7th September 2013

P&M VIII - Nobody understands me

Of all the things a person says nothing is meant with every fiber of one's being as much as "Nobody understands me". As usual, there are times when this is nothing more than an ordinary phrase. For example, I was in Paris for a day and trying to take in the city all by myself. Unfortunately, speaking English was no help. Whether I spoke it confidently in a basso profundo or in nervous frustration in a high falsetto; whether I took an hour over uttering two syllables or ran through the entire sentence in a nano second, all I got was that famous Gallic shrug and a friendly smile. When I said, "Nobody understands me" on that day it was no more than a statement of fact, which nobody understood either.

The usage that I now seek to talk about is the "Nobody understands me" that is a cry from the heart of a person distressed by the sheer obduracy of the rest of humanity in refusing to fathom them. In my time, I have been so wounded to the depths of my soul by the inability of my fellow-man to understand me that I have had to utter this phrase in broken tones to the receptive ears of my pillow more often than I would like to think about.

Just as I am sitting in a bad mood because my close friend refused to come with me for a movie, someone will come and want a heart-to-heart chat about how depressed he is because his girl-friend ditched him for someone else. He will not even understand that I am snapping at him only because I am in no mood to talk at that time and will go around telling people that I am selfish and not a good friend. And, you know what, people believe HIM!!! Nobody understands me.

My blog post of last week does not get enough comments and I am very sad and depressed about it. You would think that I can go and talk to my close friend and be consoled by him, wouldn't you? Not that I can notice. I go over to him expecting to unburden myself and he brushes me off with a frivolous excuse that he needs to take his sick mother to hospital. What sort of friend is he that he cannot even understand how much I need his support at that time? Even my close friends do not understand me.

People call me bad-tempered just because I snap at them when I am not in the mood. They just do not seem to understand that I am such a sweet person if only they will come and talk to me at the right time. They do not understand how helpful I am as a person if only they will ask me for what I can willingly give them instead of selfishly asking me for what they want. Nobody understands me.

I wish that God had thought fit to tattoo on the foreheads of people what sort of people they were. I mean, if someone came with a tattoo on his forehead saying "Please understand me", I could know that he is less likely to be spending time understanding ME. If someone came with a tattoo saying, "I have enough trouble understanding myself and cannot spare the time to be understanding you" one could conveniently give her a wide berth. Then, maybe, there may come one with "I have got nothing better to do than understand you" and you could latch on to her - provided you can fight your way through the hordes of other people like you. Without those tattoos, it is difficult to understand people. God really messed up when He designed human beings.

What?? Did you say that when I cry "Nobody understands me" I only mean that "I understand nobody and have never made any attempt to do so"? Noooooooooo! How can you be so cruel? Even you do not understand me.

P&M VII - Let us agree to disagree

I strongly feel that whoever invented this "Let us agree to disagree" must have been an optimist. I think of him as an ivory tower type with a belief that real people actually could see that there was some validity in the other person's point of view and, though they believed in the opposite, they needed to be open-minded about the issue. As we all know, real people are incapable of seeing anything except from their own point of view.

Let us get one thing out of the way. Just as two of you are into the pith of an argument and you feel completely sure that you are going to rub the other person's nose in the dirt, there is always a third party busybody who pops in with a "Let us agree to disagree." In this case, there is no real 'us' here since Mr. Nosy Parker was never a party to the argument till he poked his proboscis in, thereby creating agreement in both your minds about how obnoxious he is. Be that as it may, we will concentrate on only those times when there is actually no 'agree' in your minds.

Of course, people have varied thoughts in their mind when they say this phrase and one cannot generalize about exactly what they mean. For example, you could be an ardent fan of Shahrukh Khan while your friend holds this insane belief that Salman Khan is God's gift to women-kind. You know, of course, that she is totally irrational on this issue. You, however, do not feel that this lunacy is about to exhibit itself in her taking the kitchen knife and slashing you into ribbons in the night. As long as you avoid taking her advice on what movies to see, her madness is harmless and, thus, you feel that you can brush aside this argument with a "Let us agree to disagree".

There are times, however, when you feel less inclined to be forbearing. In any corporate meeting you will find someone holding a view diametrically opposite to your own. Much as you may feel like grabbing him by the collar and shaking some sense into him, you are prohibited by the stupid rules of social engagement that are irrationally averse to settling arguments conclusively by physically silencing the opponent. You, of course, know that you can settle his hash logically over a three hour argument. The problem, however, is that your client is unlikely to see your victory over him as a sufficient return on the fees he is paying you (Clients are unreasonable that way). So, if it is a minor point and with a mental note to settle scores with him at a more appropriate time, you grit out, "Let us agree to disagree."

There are more serious issues, however, that crop up between people. When you are of the staunch opinion that the chicken came first and the other person insists that the egg did, there is what is called an impasse. Google is no help in conclusively proving your point and you just cannot let the other person go around propagating a wrong philosophy. The argument could go something like this

"How can there be an egg unless there is a chicken to lay it?"
"How can there be a chicken unless there is an egg to hatch out of?"
"How can the egg hatch unless there is an chicken to warm it?"
"You never heard of incubators?"
"You never heard of Darwin? Incubators came from men and men came after the chicken"

And so on and on into the esoteric realms of Science, Philosophy and any number of '..isms' without a conclusive end till one of you yells, "Let us agree to disagree."

And it is at that exact point that both of you are in total agreement - in concluding that the other person is an opinionated jackass who is incapable of listening to reason.

I am sure you are in agreement with me here. Otherwise, let us agree to disagree!

Uff Ye Emotions on Pre-order

There you sit in solitary splendor writing your oh-so-lyrical prose and push it out to the world assuming that the wonder of your words will so capture the imagination of the reading public that they shall beat a path to your door clamoring for your literary output. There the world sits totally uncaring about your existence and happily assuming that it can probably have as much fun reading the dictionary.

Then the realization slowly creeps in that probably there are millions out there doing the same thing. Then comes a Short story writing contest, you participate and, presto, there is someone else – Vinit Bansal - out there who also seems to think that you are worth reading. Now, at last, you find that you can actually see your name in print. Not yet in solitary splendor since there are eleven others who shall also share the stage with you. That is, in a way, a big boon. When there are other good authors around in the same book, the book need not stand or fall on the strength of your literary talent alone.

So, on February the 7^th, I can expect to see my name in print along with Saurabh Arya, Papan Basu, Abhilash Ruhela, Sanhita Baruah, Anjit Sharma, Himanshu Appi Chabra, Drishti Dasgupta, Stephen Anthony, Pankaj Mittal and Rachna Seth as well as Priyanka Dey. The book is featured in Good reads in the following link.

http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17284614-uff-ye-emotions

Links for pre-ordering the book are available on the Good reads page as well. I am giving a few here for ready reference (Where is the author who completely sheds the delusion that his readers will make a beeline to buy his books the moment they know about it?)

 http://www.homeshop18.com/uff-ye-emotions/author:vinit-k-bansal/isbn:9789350880388/books/fiction/product:30487131/cid:13167/

 http://www.flipkart.com/uff-ye-emotions-collection-award-winning-love-stories/p/itmdhew3bc5mcjnh?pid=9789350880388&ref=a0933cd3-1a7d-4819-9d6b-81b5428e8f93affidabhilash23

http://www.infibeam.com/Books/uff-ye-emotions-collection-award-winning-love-stories-vinit-k-bansal/9789350880388.html

http://www.ebay.in/itm/Uff-Ye-Emotions-collection-award-winning-love-stories-PRE-ORDER-b-/390530619550?pt=IN_Books_Magazines&hash=item5aed70589e#ht_752wt_906 

http://www.amegabooks.com/books-cate/uff-ye-emotions-a-collection-of-award-winning-love-stories-get-free-audio-cd-containing-romantic-songs-by-roouh-band-770957.html

http://justbooks.in/product/uff-ye-emotions-collection-award-winning-love-stories-9789350880388#.UQofUh3MCSo

Here is to hoping that the book is found enjoyable.

If you want to try any of my humor or fiction, click on those words to find an index of the posts!

School Reunion

(Had to make an effort this time to access the Net. A School reunion after 33 years just had to be written while the memories are still fresh. Still left-handed and still in Chennai)

When Gautam Banerjee (do not be mislead - the school was in Neyveli not Calcutta) called me up for a reunion of my batch at Jawahar Higher Secondary School Neyveli, I jumped at the chance. Not only because I'd get to meet quite a few of my batch-mates after a third of a century but also to reassure myself that it was not I alone who had changed for the worse. True I had shot up six inches in height since school but I had put on about the same around the waist and losing some weight on top of the head - leaving the head as shiny as a reflector - could by no means be considered a compensation. In this expectation I was sorely disappointed. Gautam, as befitted the chief organizer, satisfied me most thoroughly. Sivakumar, a co-organizer, did his best too and the other organizer Babu tried his best but could only manage to look less of a skeleton than he did at school.

The other lot of guys were really horrid. None of them - bar Venkatesh - seemed to have acquired a dignified paunch. The girls too showed no compassion - most looked positively glamorous. I must single out my ire for P.Suresh, T.C.Ravi, B.S.Murali and M.S.Lakshmi - all of whom looked as though all that they needed to get back to studying class X was the school uniform. I had to console myself with the thought that they could not get in to see an "A" movie without showing age-proof and try to hide my waistline behind my plaster-cast inadequately.

That, however, was the only disappointment. The ride to Neyveli with Venkatesh and T.C. Ravi was fun. P.Suresh, who was with us initially along with his son, was rattled by too many skeletons tumbling out of his school closet with his son listening in eagerly and chose to run to safer havens. We arrived in great spirits at Neyveli to a warm welcome by Gautam, Siva and Babu. None of our teachers could make it but S.Nalini - who looked as hefty as at school only more so - made up for it by bossing us around. Luckily for us she did not try to make us kneel down or stand on the bench - creaky knees do not permit such exercises.

Thirty-three years of living cannot readily be compressed into ninety seconds of narration but managed it. From the chap who somehow became a Canadian dentist to the chap who became a planned redundancy (yours truly) we had them all in the 40-50 batch-mates present there - doctors, engineers, realtors, entrepreneurs, executives and home-makers. Having been a quiet, mousy chap with my nose perpetually buried in a book while at school, I was amazed that quite a few of them knew me though a lot of them probably thought I had gate-crashed the party and merely remained quiet because they were feeling too good to cause a ruckus. (NO! It was not my sneaky way of having my current pic on my FB profile that allowed some to pretend to remember me. Just because most of those who did not know me were non-FB users you cannot cast such wild allegations!)

Tea-time was when we started the serious business of catching up. Within no time we were flinging insults at each other like in school - insults that would have got us bashed up, in court for slander or in jail for leaking official secrets depending on the insulted person's nature and status. Here they only evoked belly laughs and the laughing was almost continuous till we had to part. As Suchitra - the Narain version - put it, adult life meant that we only infrequently opened our mouths wide - for the doctor to peer at our tonsils - so this much  full-throated laughter was actually causing the jaws to ache.

Around seven we left to park ourselves at the various rooms arranged by the organizers and reassembled at eight for dinner. Venkatesh, TC Ravi, Anand and I had a sneak preview of the school on the way and had a small chat with the current principal who first tried to shoo us off as intruders but stayed to chat and even permitted us to look around. The school is now bifurcated in two - with one half catering to the state board students and the other to CBSE students. The CBSE school that we studied in is now the state board school.

At dinner, food seemed to be the last thing on people's minds while everyone was chatting and laughing - and photographing, of course. There were a few changes in conversational styles, however. At school it had almost all been Tamil for informal conversation - now one could hear Telugu, Kannada and Hindi as well. I did not quite catch Debasis and Gautam chat in Bengali but that, too, may have happened.

The party at Gautam's house was after dinner. The conversation was in full flow as ever helped on liberally by the lubrication copiously provided by Gautam and company duly augmented by Sundar. The girls left an hour or so earlier (School reunion! Can't be calling them ladies!). We hit our room by about 2 AM but our conversation was on till 4 AM.

Next day began at 7.30 AM and we hit the meeting hall by about 9 AM. Back to fun and games with B.S.Murali crafting a game that set us reminiscing crazy escapades from our school days (Murali! I am still wondering what to do with 8 match-sticks and no match-box). We, then, went for the official view of the school, photography and running around peeking at all the classrooms and labs bemoaning the changes and excited about what had stayed the same. Kumaraguru even found some corrected test-papers and S.K.Radha proved that she still had an eye for marks!

Back for lunch and the bitter-sweet moments of parting. One needs to compliment those spouses and children who came for the meet. The children, of course, must have come to gather some concrete evidence to prove that their parent was ever a student and did not spring full-blown from the ground. They must have also had much fun seeing this bunch of fifty-year olds acting like juveniles. The spouses are probably more to be lauded for their patience.

A last hurrah was celebrated at Suchitra Naidu's behest at Cuddalore and Venkatesh, Ravi and I wended our way back to Chennai with loads of memories. For all those batch-mates who did not come - you do not know what you missed and photographs are no substitute.

Disclaimer: Photo copied from Sundar's FB post

My story Idea - Harper-Collins contest

This is how you can make two posts out of one idea! First you write a post outlining a story idea to Harper-Collins, then you post a link to the story idea in their page! Hooray! Anything that adds to the post-count on this blog is very welcome!

http://www.indiblogger.in/getpublished/idea/225

I actually do not understand why votes for the story idea should be a major decider for the acceptance of the idea. Votes on social media generally denote the popularity of the person and not of the content. And the popularity of the person does not automatically translate to better sales of content produced by him/her. Since, however, H-C has opted for this modus operandi I am trying to plug my idea for all it is worth - even with the left hand. So please click on this link and 'Like' it there.

Until death do us part : My entry for the Get Published contest

When first we experience what we think of as love it is by and large a feeling. The only thought, if anything, that crosses our mind is “How wonderful life would be for me if (s)he is my spouse”. This romantic love is more an experience of feeling happy with even the daydreams of spending time with the loved one, one of taking pleasure in stealing surreptitious glances and secret smiles – not to mention the clichéd murmuring of sweet nothings in each other’s ears. A love that stays put at this stage if it turns to marriage is more likely to be heart-break for one if not for both.

When love matures, consideration for the other gains more importance. Now, in addition to thinking about how happy your love will make you, you also start taking pleasure in making your significant other happy. When love starts making you think in terms of actively taking pleasure in making the other happy – and not just as a means to an end – it is mature love.

Yet! There is a sort of love that is not given to the ordinary people to feel. When all the giving can only be a one-way street, due to external circumstances, and when the life that you end up leading is one of unremitting drudgery and deprivation, it takes a different order of love to transmute such a life into one of happiness because you are living with your love.

I came to know of such a woman in the recent past. A woman, whose husband was crippled within a year of an arranged marriage and whose parents urged her to divorce him and closed their doors on her because she would not. She not only stayed with him, nursing him and helping him try to earn a living but also disdained any description of her life as one of sacrifice.

That is the only real life story that makes me want to write about it. I do not know any of the characters personally and, thus, were I to write it the characters in my story may end up bearing no resemblance to the real life characters.

This is my entry for the HarperCollins–IndiBlogger Get Published contest, which is run with inputs from Yashodhara Lal andHarperCollins India.

Shopper! Stop!

Here we go again! Once again there comes a contest that I really have no reason to compete in but for that unfortunate promise that I made to myself about competing in every contest this year. If I only knew who it was that let Indiblogger know about that promise thereby ensuring that they brought in contest after contest that I cannot readily compete in, I would probably have become a murderer by now!

Paranoid fantasy, did you say? Just check out the list of contests that have been announced. You have a ‘Love Marriage or Arranged Marriage’ contest – just the topic that a 49 year old bachelor has always yearned to write about. Then, you kick in with a recipe contest – what I always dream of writing after having converted my kitchen into a disaster area for the day. And, now, comes the chance to play designer!

I have always had a thing against designers. They seem to be a particularly lazy lot given to taking the easy way out. I mean what is so difficult about designing clothing that makes a John Abraham or an Arjun Rampal look good? Those guys probably look good in the buff anyway and it would take concerted creative effort by a designer to make them look ugly. Now if any designer had designed clothing for me that would make girls drool all over me that would be worth lauding. Where is the designer who takes on such a challenge? Lazy set of sods, as I said! (By the way, will someone let me know why saliva is welcome when drooled on you and detestable when spat? Just asking!)

Without a designer, I would probably do better. My friends do not agree, however. I am not color-blind but my friends delight in saying that it cannot be proved by the clothes I wear. I mean, come on, what is unattractive about electric green trousers and a flame-red shirt? The shirt is even decorated with bright blue forget-me-nots and everyone likes flowers, don’t they? I am sure that my friends are only indulging in their usual pastime of pulling my leg – but who knows whether they are actually reflecting popular taste or not?

Enough maundering! Time to get ahead with the task at hand. Ensemble? Hmmm! Do I go in for the usual three piece suit that was the height of sophisticated dressing of my generation? One problem there, however! I have always felt that it was a pity that the man who first invented the tie was not strangled at birth. Due to this lamentable oversight by his parents, he survived to invent that abomination thereby causing millions of men to strangle themselves with it every day.

About the only sort of ensemble that I can really take an interest in would be something to wear on a trek – considering that it is the only activity for which I feel the need to dress up for specifically. Everywhere else I can manage with the same ensemble that I use for treks.

Let us go from tip to toe on this. The first thing is a cap. Not, as the evil-minded would say, because it hides the fact that I am almost completely bald. On a trek, it does become necessary to save the head from the scorching sun particularly when there is a regrettable lack of insulation for it on top. So, here is the first item on the ensemble.

Next the sunglasses for the eyes! My eyes are magnetic eyes, all right! The problem is that they seem to be of the wrong polarity – instead of attracting they seem to have very strong repulsive powers. That, however, is not why I need them covered. Trekking involves walking in the sun, more often than not, and it is better to shade the eyes instead of getting a headache by squinting all the way.

Why are T-shirts with pockets so rare? If only these people had the experience of trying to pull out a hanky from the pockets of the tracks on a trek and have the mobile taking the shortcut down the mountainside, they would know how useful a pocket can be on the T-shirt. Anyway, this is my selection of a T-shirt – could not get rid of the man in it!

Never underestimate the importance of undergarments. Particularly on treks in the Himalayas where you probably will live in the same pair for days on end – unless you actually like undressing and re-dressing when it is freezing cold. Fail in your choice and you will find what rashes in the wrong places can do to you when you have to keep walking in them.

Ah! The over-garments over the under-garments! Must be obvious by now! Tracks, of course! Since I do not believe in different garments for different occasions I prefer tracks that can fool you into thinking that they are formal wear – unless you choose to concentrate on them. If you do, you are welcome to your discoveries!

Actually, you can get away with any choice for the rest. But comes to socks, you better have them cotton and fresh. Worse than rashes in unmentionable places are blisters on the feet. Unless, of course, you have mastered the art of walking on your hands!

Shoes are as important as socks in avoiding blisters. The grip on the soles is also of relevance unless you actually like slipping off rocks and descending faster than it is comfortable to contemplate. The best trekking shoes come with Vibram soles and Goretex inners – but, then, since my life is not worth as much as such shoes are I make do with the normal running shoes.

Now that completes the ensemble. What the well-dressed trekker is wearing this festive season in the Himalayas! Now, if only my friends will agree with my tastes!

Narrating a story

I do start pontificating at times but, by and large, it has been safely in the area of philosophy where anyone may speak anything and cannot be proved outright wrong. This once I have stuck my neck out into an area where I cannot claim any expertise and can be ridiculed for how wrong I have got my ideas!

The Fool and I stared this workshop for Indian Fiction writers. Please do not get me wrong – it is not like we thought we had something to teach people about writing fiction. It is just that we thought we would learn from each other in a structured attempt.

The exercise was to write your own narrative of a plot line given to all - this time by The Fool. We were lucky to get sixteen entries for this exercise – including a few from some of the best fiction bloggers - and had a glimpse into various ways in which a plot could be handled. The plot given can be read here and all the entries are also hosted on the same blog.

To round off the writing part of the exercise, I put up my own ideas on what we expected by seeking people to narrate the same plot in their own voices. Those ideas are there in this piece – Narrating a Story – at http://www.indifictionworkshop.blogspot.in/2012/10/narrating-story.html.