Have we actually regressed?

For all those who are still living in fairy tale thinking about India progressing, especially in the Modi era, here are a few things which has happened in the entire year which has missed the mainstream media. I leave the judgement to you.

The finance bill passed this year actually removed the upper limit on political party donation from companies. Foreign funding of parties was legalised. For those who don't know the fulcrum of corruption in this country is political funding.

Till now not a single corrupt politician was imprisoned. In fact the much publicised 2G scam, either did not happen or the guilty found their way to escape. Corruption whistle blowers and RTI activists got a huge backstab as respective laws were changed to make life difficult for them. Read here.

Law and order took a disastrous turn, with 2017 being the deadliest year for cow lynchings with 152 recorded victims across the country. Oh BTW, talking of law and order and punishing the culprit there is a chief minister who has withdrawn a case against himself and 22000 other cases against other politicians. And the cases by his own affidavit in the election commission include charges of attempt to murder, criminal intimidation, rioting etc.

It is not that the government in power is looking after its own - every government we have ever had in living memory has done exactly the same, to a greater or lesser degree. What should worry is that unlike in the past, this government does not even feel the need to be covert about it - it is all done in the open , with a "so? what the eff are you going to do about it? bravado that is chilling to the mind.

Apart from the multi billion dollar rafale scam which nobody is willing to talk about, the comptroller and auditor general in a report says two union ministers have released grants of over 26000 crores in three years with no record of beneficiaries. You had to look very hard to find this story though as these news does not come on mainstream media anymore.

The other day the Delhi metro was inaugurated without inviting the Delhi chief minister. But two days before, on the list of VIPs invited for the chief minister Rupani's coronation, there was an invitee called Babu Bajrangi, for those who came in late, who has been convicted in a case relating to massacre of just 97 individuals and was apparently out on bail citing eye treatment. Remember the bravado I spoke about?

For once a legal marriage, of two consenting adults and in fact, of two consenting families, was disrupted because the local BJP district president decided that Hindus and muslims should not come together in marriage.

Oh ya, I forgot to mention the economy in shambles (with almost growth rate halving according the older criteria of calculations), and the foreign policy in disarray what with the number of soldiers losing life the highest in the last decade.

We cannot afford regressions anymore. Time the PM buckle up, but is there the political will? 

The reality called India!

As the dust settles down on the Gujarat elections and the PM modi and the opposition leader Rahul start thinking about the next elections, in the tiny hamlet in Jharkand, this family is still coming to terms with the loss of their dearest child.

Koili Devi has four children. The older two just entered their teens had been married off. The youngest was twleve. The husband was earning some Rs. 100 a day for five days a month till he descended rapidly in to mental illness some five years ago. But now he only sleeps or wanders about, and the burden fell on Koili Devi's thin shoulders to feed and tend to him apart from his children and his aged mother. 

Critically dependent on the subsidised rations they receive through the public distribution system to keep hunger at bay, catastrophe struck the family when the state administration made it mandatory for all ration cards to be linked to biometric identification through Aadhar. 

The subsidised grains were the thin thread that held the family aloft above hunger. And when that thread snapped, starvation became an inevitability. 

Even though the youngest kid, Santoshi, had dropped out of school she would still take a break from her cow grazing to eat the mid day meal served in school. But the school had closed for the festival season. Santoshi's health began to slide, and she whimpered all the time, begging for rice. But all they had in the hovel were tea leaves and salt. The child finally died crying for rice; 

This story somehow penetrated the customary indifference of the national press and nudged its way to the front pages of the national dailies, and it even briefly pricked our conscience.

Even as the family was mourning, the officials in that area were quick in their defence. Santhoshi died of malaria. The family is not saying the truth said they. The ruling BJP remonstrated that Koili Devi should abandon her claim that her child had died of salvation and accept that she succumbed to Malaria. They even promised rewards for agreeing to accept that. There were even threats. The chief minister said Koili Devi had brought bad name to the village by her claim of death by starvation. 

For those of you who think this is an one off incident, Koili Devi's was only one of the eleven lakh ration cards cancelled in the state for failing to link with aadhar. For those of you who think this is a story straight from Bollywood, believe me I  myself have walked in to many remote villages in the northern India, where poverty is a reality. 

This my dear friends is the reality called India. 

Tamil Nadu and the election drama conundrum!

I'm sorry Tamil Nadu, I'm sometimes embarrassed by your choice!

You have always confused me Tamil Nadu. Where do we even start to explain today's TTV win? I mean, I understand he paid a lot of money. But are you so honest that you will vote honestly only to one who paid the highest amount of money? Everybody paid money. Didn't they all?

Here is a man who was just a few months ago admonished by none other than the election commission themselves for bribing voters. He comes from the family who is famously called "The Mannargudi Mafia". "Mafia", is their pet name anyway. And how do we understand voting for a mafia?

Yes we have always supported a corrupt Jaya. But she had the charisma not many had and so you voted for her. Oh yes, Karunaanithi for all his allegations and the family problems was among the pioneers of the Dravidian movement and so you voted him for a long time.

Is lack of choice one major reason for going ahead with TTV? May be you didn't like going ahead with the EPS-OPS faction, but why not DMK? The more logical option. I understand you don't like the colour orange, but why not Seeman? That man has been shouting from rooftops for a long time.

Am I missing something here TN? Did TTV have a personality which I din't see. A Charisma which is making you select him even with his tainted image, which I could not see? May be so TN; May be so!

But to be honest, I think I'm a little embarrassed at your selection. For if you elect a clown you always expect a circus and so if you elect a known criminal you should know what to expect.

Two Lives! 'I' & 'P'!

I shouldn't have lived on, said 'I'; I did not get any love from my family. As 'P' was intently listening my mind wavered.

'P' did not have a family. Grew up in an orphanage. Married a fellow orphan. And yet 'P' knew love. Was full of raw energy that radiates a love. 'P' had not seen much love growing up, yet could give love to the entire world around. The world around 'P' was happy. In fact 'P' made the world around happy.

'I' was beautiful & bold. Cultured. Modern. Grew out of a family of learned people. Grew up in one of the bigger cities of the world. Life should have been perfect.

Yet, there was something missing. 'I' had often felt low. Had even been advised medication for depression. 'Though brave 'I' was, the tone and the voice radiated a pain.

What was the difference?

May be the difference is in my biased eyes; The bias in me had already decided that families are meant to be happy. Aren't they? I don't know. The coloured lens I wear had already painted a gloomy picture of the orphans growing up. Why shouldn't they grow up to be normal, in fact extraordinary citizens of this gloomy world.

I wish 'I' well in life. 'I' has a lot more to offer to the world. Well, beautiful, strong souls do;
I wish I can learn so much from 'P'. The world is a much better place because of people like 'P'.

Two lives met me that day! And I'm better because of both of them.

Deserving friendship!

'I don't deserve to be your friend', I heard the voice choke on the other end of that phone. Bang, the phone got cut.

'K' was one of my best friends during a phase of my life. We hugged each other and promised to stay in touch forever, even as life took us along different paths. Yet slowly the long calls became occasional calls and soon the vagaries of life made us forget each other. New friendships were made and different people came into our lives.

I had tried to contact him for some time and could not get to him. Once he said, he will call back. Once he was too drunk to talk. And then that day happened! I knew he was in trouble. His voice was shivering. I was in a prayer meeting and could not talk to him at that moment. The idiot I'm, didn't just walk out of the meeting and answer him. I told him I will get back to him. And there ended it all.

Today, got those same words 'I don't deserve to be your friend' text, from 'S'. I mean, we were just joking. But that got me thinking about 'K' and of course 'deserving friends';

How do I 'deserve' to be a friend?

I mean, can somebody deserve the love of a friend? And if love is given because he deserves, is the love true? Friendship is just love. Pure and pristine. I don't expect anything in return to be a friend. I go the extra mile, just because I love my friend. Can I ever do anything impressive to deserve the love of a friend? Can any work be a substitute for love?

Have I confused you enough? Ah! I'm confused as well. And by the way in all this confusion, I miss that friend 'K'. What if 'K' reads this and calls me tomorrow morning? Wish God likes fairy tales. 

Dear BJP! I'm Indian and a Christian.

Dear Mr. Prime minister and your party members,

I'm hurt! Deeply hurt. When everytime one of you call actor Vijay 'Joseph Vijay' just to prove his christianess and because of that his alieness to the country 'India', my blood boils. Why should somebody's religion come in to the picture at all when you are talking about a movie scene against you?

He was never ever called 'Joseph Vijay' till now. He has made a statement in a movie against GST. The statement may be false. It is a movie dammit. A figment of his imagination. He never even claims things to be true. And to fight against supposed falsehood in a movie, which in itself claims to be a fiction, you guys have to bring in the religion of the actor and inform the world that he brings in falsehood because he is from such a religion! How low can you guys stoop down to?

I'm born an Indian. A Tamilian. Brought up to love this country. Spoke Tamil at home. I'm born a Christian! Brought up in a deeply religious home. Just to give you a background of me.

And I'm as Indian as any of my school and college mates. Dare I say more Indian, since I had till now refused to go abroad to earn more money and thought of serving this country. I said no to a high paying job which could have sent me to Netherlands and from there to much greener pastures and decided to serve in a god forbidden place where you and your ilk forgot to give basic education, health care and basic infrastructure like roads and electricity.

I speak and think in my mother tongue as much as any Indian does! My constitution has allowed me to practise my religion, which I had embraced from my childhood and I'm proud of the constitution for letting me do that. My dad and my mom had refused to earn ten times as much as they have, which they so easily could have, and have served the poor for their life time.

Not once, have my friends or my colleagues treated me like a foreigner in this land. I have all along been respected for my views and nobody once had made me feel like a foreigner. Nobody. Till you came along.

Now all you and your party does is to make me look like a damn outsider living in a country. For every issue my religious identity is brought out and I'm made to feel like somebody who does not belong here.

I'm sorry BJP, but i'm worried for the future of many minorities like me in this country. I hope my country men don't fall for this bait. And let us live as normal human beings as we have all along.

In search of the addressless!

"I left house when I was eight", said that boy. In search of the illusory happiness and running away from the real world of schools, exams and homework! 

He had only one leg, One huge hump on his back when I saw him. He would have been around fifteen. May be thirteen. He din't know his age. I was twenty one.  Life was at a different pace then! 

That boy had run away from strict parents thinking life will be full of roses. Sadly he did not see the thorns of the world out there. He took the only train available in his small town and two days after that found himself in a remote land speaking a different language with a multitude of people, cramming for every single inch of space. Bombay! After spending many years by the roadside and eating the leftovers of those who can afford, he decided to go back home.

Home he thought will be where the train which he came from goes to. Sadly, the train went to another filthy city with people speaking another language and in the mayhem of coming out of the railway station of Kolkata, he met with an accident and lost his leg. 

In that lost state, these two nun sisters from the mother Teresa's home found him. They took him back home. Nursed him. Fed him. Till he became alright. It was there I met him, when I was volunteering with the Mother Theresa's home.

He never spoke to anybody there. Strangely enough he realised I could speak the language he knew. We became friends and on the day I was leaving he said, "Can you find my parents for me?" Teary eyed, he hugged me! And I promised I will.

So all he knew was his house was small, near a market and in the town 'V'! 

My mind wrestled with the stupid idea of searching for the addressless! How do you look for somebody in the multitude without knowing anything? Quit it sam! You will not find him, said the usual voice. Oh no Sam. What if you find him, said a strange voice within. I decided to give it a try. I was not doing anything anyways then. 

So with a bag on my shoulder, I went. In to the town 'V'. Searching for this small house, near the market. 

I quit often! You are a fool, sam! That voice often wrestled. What are you looking for? It asked me. Oh well! The other shrill voice, kept me going. 

Do you know, it is nine years to this date that I found his house. That small house, near the market, in the town 'V'? That mother hugged me and cried. I called the Nun sisters and put the family on to the boy. And the fool I'm, did not get their contact number and follow up on the family. 

Did the boy join the family? Did the mother go all the way to pick that boy up? Did the sister, who was not on talking terms to the mother, talk to the brother? Is the boy mobile now? What happened to his lump? Was it operated on? And I did not even get the address. Should I make one more trip to check on him now? Will I be able to find them now? What if the parents had not bothered to pick him up at all? Will he still be in the orphanage? 

So who is up for one more adventure in search of all these questions? To the small house near the marked in the town 'V'. In search of the addressless!

Journalism, thy name is a curse!

There was a time when I wanted to be a Journalist. I think that craving is still there in some remote corner of the heart. Yet, today I felt happy that I din't become one.

Some time ago when the news of the sad death(Should it be murder?) of the 60 odd children in the UP government hospital due to lack of oxygen was coming out I started looking at some NEWS source. The two lapdogs of the government, 'Times Now', and 'The Republic' were debating the very important, "Should Vande Maataram be made compulsory in schools" debate.

As the NEWS started to spread on social media, these two channels continued to debate Vande Maataram and its importance. And the anchor from 'TimesNow', told one of her panelist not to distract the country by the Gorakhpur deaths when the focus is on singing vande maataram to improve nationalism.

Distract the country by Gorakpur deaths? It took me a full two minutes to even comprehend what she said! What brazen arrogance? When did singing 'Vande Maataram' become more important than the life of human beings? And children in that? 60 of them.

Is there only money involved in buying these journalists off? Are there any thing else? Do they issue threats also? Is there anything called honest Journalism left anymore? I live in a ethically and morally deteriorating medical community, but I have seen beacons of light here and there. Many can and are surviving, in fact doing really well, if they are honest. But can there be honest people at all in the Journalistic world? I very much doubt it.

Most of the print and the television media is funded by advertisements! And advertisements are done only by the big Multi National conglomerates. And these huge conglomerates fund the political parties also. 

And in the modern day, govt advertisements have also increased many fold! On top of that, the government has the veto power to issue diktats. With all this, it needs a lot of inner power and mental strength to listen to the inner heart and speak the truth. And I seriously doubt I would have had the guts to stand up for the truth!

I wish I'm wrong! But I think we have entered a seriously dangerous territory where every media is  gagged and truth is buried and half truths are circulated.

My uncle said this years ago! Journalists are the most dishonest people on earth and I don't want you to be like that. How prophetic those words are!

Am I successful?

"Naan vaazhkaila thothuten da!" (I lost in life); said she!My classmate. She was all of 25 then. There was a quite pause on the other end of the phone. I din't know what to tell her.

I knew she was going through a bad phase in life! May be three to four years of bad phase. By bad phase I mean, the life did not go according to her plan. But, "Lost in life?" Does that mean, there is a win in life as well? 

And then today she called again, after a loooong time! Her voice sounded happy. She said she is on her way to Italy. My mind immediately said, Ah! this girl has won in life! 

Won in life?

How do I define success and failure in life? That if everything you wanted in life happened, is that a victory? and if everything that you attempt in life does not happen are you a failure? If so, I was the biggest failure, in life! Nothing, basically nothing, has gone according to the road map the society and the family and my own maniacal brain had for my life! Every time there was a plan, my life has gone in the exact opposite direction.

Do we define victory or defeat by the status or the amount of money you earn in life? So, does it mean the most successful are the biggest earners, like the Ambanis or the prime minister of India who has achieved greater status than anybody else in this country? Or do we define success by the number of countries visited? Like you are successful if you are in the States, especially if you are an Indian. Or this friend of mine, had she suddenly won over life, coz she is going to Italy? 

When I went back and read the last paragraph, geez it stuck me hard! I am a failure there too. I din't earn 20% of the money I could have, nor did I visit the number of countries I would have! 

So what exactly is a victory in life? Am I successful? Or as usual, am I a failure? I don't know! 

May be it is different for different people! May be there is no template for success! May be as the modern generation godmen tell you, happiness is more important than success. And then the question is to define happiness! Ah, the complexities of life.

For now, it is simple! Wish her a safe trip to Italy and go back to what pays you. As simple as that!And of course be the best you can be! 

Life lessons from Dhoni's Innings!

I learn my life lesson's from sports. Whether I implement them is completely another thing. Yet, sports to me has been the best teacher.

So here are certain life lesson's from Dhoni, the adopted son of Chennai.

1) When he walked in to bat, India were in dire straits. Dhoni was calm, collected and composed. And just made sure that he was there till India is out of the woods. 

      - Be calm and collected in times of trouble. We will soon be out of the woods.

2) He did not go slam bang when the young Hardik was going hammer and tongs. He can hit those big sixes as well, but that was not was expected of him.

      - Just because the world out there is living a different life, we need not! 

3) When Hardik was going after the Aussies, Dhoni was constantly mentoring his young ward all the tricks of the trade.

      - Don't be insecure in passing on the the lessons you have learnt.

4) The last overs Dhoni refused the single and took it upon himself to go for the big hits.

      - During the important moments of life, it is important to take charge.

5) Dhoni was the oldest in that team. And among the fittest. Even when Hardik was struggling to run, Dhoni ran like a hare.

      - Age can never be the reason for not working hard at your work place.

I murdered her! And so did you!

So she scored 1176 marks out of 1200, and did not get a medical seat. For those of the privileged cadre who studied in a "Non-Tamil Nadu state board" of education system, she is in the 99.5th percentile, if that makes sense to you.

There was no mother at home. The father had to bend over backwards to keep some food on the table. 

Did she have all three meals daily? I would not be surprised if she hadn't! For the men eat before the womenfolk in this country.Did she walk three kms daily to school? Or took bus which carried three times its load? Did her house have electricity? or was she reading in the darkness of night under a candle most of the time? Did she have to clean the house and the vessels and the clothes of hers and the siblings and the father as the lone woman in the house? And was she ill treated in school coz she was from the lower caste? Did she walk with her head held high?Or did she carry her chappals as she walked through the upper caste street? Was she in the first place allowed to walk through all the streets in her village? Did the house have a toilet? Did her house leaked when it rained? 

And to be honest I would not be surprised if every question above had an answer in the affirmation. For they are common for a young dalit girl living in an interior tamil village.

And yet she scored more marks than 99.5% of people who wrote that examination. Most of the remaining whom she fought against did not do even one of this. She had to fight her way through life. If that kid, who sure had won much bigger battles against misogyny, patriarchy, caste oppression, poverty, hunger, tiredness and every other idiocy this country had thrown at her, succumbs to crushed dreams who is to answer?

I am equally responsible for this!

For I fought for the cow and not for her; For I voted a party who stood against her; For I'm complicit in inculcating in her a wrong dream that you compete to live; For I live with the wrong notion that it is more important to score good marks than to live happily; For I comply with the opinion that being a doctor is much better than being an engineer; For I accept mediocrity and corruption and callousness in my leaders; For I behaved like she did not exist; For I chose Oviya's fight over hers; For I still discriminate on the basis of the father's race;

I'm sorry young girl! I'm truly sorry. You were brave. You had won many battles I would have been knocked down in the first round. How I wish you had not quit now also. 

RIP young girl! For I, the citizen of this sovereign, democratic, republic do not deserve you. 

Priorities People, priorities!

One of my close acquaintance, during one of the most tense periods of work, asked me, 'Did we plan the coffee'?

It riled me up! Coffee! Man, you thought I'm bloody making coffee now. I was fuming inside. I could even sense angry smoke coming from my ears.

Priorities man, priorities.

That day, that dreadful day when India killed more than 100 children for want of oxygen cylinders, and rampant encephalitis, the shameless (That is what they do best, being shameless) Indian media was debating the importance of singing Vande Maataram in schools. And one anchor has the audacity to tell a man in a prime time debate, who brings in the topic of deaths of children, to not stray away from the important topic of singing.

On a day when a God-Man was convicted of rape, and people are in the streets supporting the God-Man, you know the country and its priorities.

We have a screwed up sense of priorities. We politicise what should not be and keep quiet on things we must speak about. If my country cares more about a movie trailer and a reality show than dead kids and terror attacks, then there is something seriously wrong with us.

Watching Big Boss and trending Oviya is fine! But when an entertainment industry is the major supplier of leaders to a country then there is a problem. Singing Vande Maatram is fine. In fact debating the necessity of making it mandatory is good. But on a day which should have been mourned nationally, to bury them under the carpet and debating petty nationalism is wrong. Plain wrong!

Discussing and debating cricket and music and films and everything entertaining is good. They actually keep us going. But in that process, if we sweep the important issues under the carpet, we are treading on dangerous waters.

Screwed up priorities are a curse!

In case you don't know what is happening in Modi's India!

I'm anti Modi! I hate to see that man lie through his teeth, nose and every other thing. And so, If you are a Modi Bakth please don't read on. For the reality that India is starkly opposite to what your leader promised.

So 60 young children were killed in the state of UP, in the constituency of Mr. Yogi Adityanath, the chief minister of UP, the 5 time MP from the same constituency due to the sudden stoppage of oxygen. The hospital has not paid the oxygen supplier for a long time, it seems.

Do you know that the RBI's dividend to the government of India, has decreased from 65,000 crores to 30,000 crores! Oh, did Modiji tell you that the NPA(Non performing assets) of banks have increased by more than 50% in the last six months?

The production in the consumer durables sector recorded negative growth of (-2.1%) while that in the capital goods sector contracted by 6.8%.

Oh yes, the annual GDP growth rate has come down to 6.1% in the previous quarter. Apparently it is the slowest growth rate since 2014.

Don't even get me started on the price of the petrol and the diesel. In Modi's dictionary there is only hike. No reduction of prices. This after the global fuel price has tumbled down three times.

According to Modiji's claim they are laying 30km of national highway every day. That approximates to completing more than 50% of the total existing national highways present in the entire country put together, in one year. You want to check the truth of it, do a vellore - Chennai trip on the Bangalore - Chennai highway.

Apparently Modiji has built so many toilets that Mumbai is declared open defecation free! But BMC has said, they don't include people defecating in lands owned by other govt agencies such as the railways, Mumbai port trust , defence land and Aarey colony in Goregaon.

I'm paying extra taxes for every possible product and service I use. And yet nothing has improved. My government school and my government hospital are still not hospitable enough for a simple middle class like me.

Oh yes, I forgot that there were dead people carried for over 20 kms for want of an ambulance and yet we have invented a new concept called Ambulance for the cows.

We have lost more soldiers in the border in the last one year than any other year in the last two decades. The Chinese have not threatened so much since 1965 that more soldiers are guarding the country than ever before and that is never a good sign.

There are reported 12000 farmer suicides in this country since 2013.

The minorities have never been threatened so much, and that includes myself. The abuse in the name of the prime minister himself and the ruling party has never been this high. I have been abused left right and centre since I refused to believe that cows urine will cure cancer.

We have discovered a new word called lynch! Suddenly lynch mobs and cow mobs have started killing any other human being who has opposite views. And I have never heard of these happening in times before.

And in the last few years for the common man, not one iota of corruption has come down.

Yes our nationalism has increased. We sing national anthem in movie theaters. Now vande maataram in schools and madarasas just to improve our nationalism.

Vande maataram! In case they consider me anti national.

Friends, do they come and go?

I have often wrestled with this idea. The idea, that friends are special beings sent from God for a particular period in our life. And then we move on. Move on to another part of our life! And so another group of friends.

Did I move on? Have I moved on? We all have, haven't we?

There were these two friends whom I hugged and promised that we will stay in touch all through life when we changed new schools in class 5. Have seen them once after. There are those beautiful friends who made my life better in my senior school days, whom I had thought I cannot live without, yet have no contact with.

Then, the best friend from college. I had long lost touch with him since we parted ways.The cognizant life. The wonderful friends there. What happened to them? We were so close. Yet nobody stay in touch. Not one! The best thing about living in the remote village of makunda was the community of friends. Yet, even they have moved on. We say a hi, here and there and that is all. The friends from church and choir and then from the life in Delhi days. Not everyone has stayed on.

Why does that happen? Weren't we close enough then, to sustain the relationships? Have our new relationships become more important than the precious promises we made when life took us apart? Do we mature and so changeth friends? Is it inevitable that we change friends? That life takes too many turns to hold on to few people through out? Oh the questions my mind asks on friendship day!

I wish life allows us the leverage to carry all of them along, through it all. But then they make memories. Precious memories. And may be that is why we move on.

Yet if you remember, not everyone has lost touch. The first friend ever from childhood, is still the best friend. That church friend from Sunday school days, still says a hi often. The few who have stuck on from the school days, are still very close. Indeed one called today. I visit that one college friend often enough. The friends from the Delhi days, through their busy big shot life schedule, have stayed in touch. The church friends meet very often.

To those friends who had moved on in life, I cherish the memories. And those who had stuck on through the ruff, tuff and tan of life, you are my bedrock!

That day as it panned out!

I wish I wake up one day and realize it had been a dream. A wild nightmarish movie from which you get up teary eyed, eat your popcorn and move on. I wish three years ago this day never happened! Yet when I pinch, I feel it. Feel the pain and the reality.

So I woke up that day and my dad was in his usual position, with a bible in his hand, deep in his thought. I looked over amma. She was very unlike her. Lying down on the bed. Unconscious. Her routine had always included cooking for the children and everybody else at home before we got up. And here she is lying down, not knowing that the world around her has woken up.

I went to dad and he said we have to go to Sivakasi today for she is not surviving this day! Was it some divine intervention? Or just the medical intuition? I don't know. We deliberated the pros and cons along with chithi who had just landed up from Triuchur. The pros and cons of taking her to CMC or any other place. Then decided it is wise to get going to Sivakasi.

We called the Ambulance. I along with a few younger cousins got ready in a car. I'm to reach home before the Ambulance and make things ready for her arrival. For she left sivakasi two months ago walking! And the world has not seen her in those two months. We had always maintained that she is doing well and she will come back to work, just to avoid visitors.

The hospital looked deserted. Every face said something is wrong. I asked people to not crowd and made way for the ambulance. For the first time in her life in sivakasi, her own tireless feet deserted her. She was carried in to her bed room. The family started singing. Two deep breaths. Ma, this is your house! Can you see the bed room? I said. She opened her eyes. And then closed it. Once and for all! Two more deep breaths and the body gave way to the soul.

There was a studied silence. For a few seconds nobody moved. My dad got his hand over her eyes and closed it to confirm the inevitable. Life, on my mother's earthly body is gone. That beautiful soul chose to live somewhere else.

The next day was a day of mourning for the family! And more so for the town. For the family, was hers but the town chose her. She was their adopted daughter. The wailing could be heard long and far. the poor, the downtrodden,  the rich and the influential, the young and the old, the business man and the rickshaw wallah, came to bid her farewell.

The church was packed! The burial ground even more. One man shouted over her body, 'Where will we go ma, where will we, the poor go?'

A friend happened to see her photo in the wallet of an auto driver after two years. She is my role model. She is my mother, said that man! One other friend had name her daughter after her.

I wish that day had never happened. The town is never the same again. For I know that entire town called her 'amma'. But I miss her more, for only two were called 'chellam' by her and I was one of them.

Blog no 200! And other random thoughts!

Tomorrow is the third anniversary of the dearest mother! And here am I celebrating my 200th blog.

 It is already eleven. The wifey has already slept. The world around me has switched off their lights. And here am I celebrating my 200th blog.

Is it that important? Where did this habit start? Why blog? How blog?  And how long have I been doing this non sense of writing in the middle of the night? How many read me? Are there at all people who read my blogs? These questions clog my mind!

And let me be very clear! My blog is my personal space. This is where I vent! This is where I come to hide, in full public view. My blogspace is my anger ground. This is my rest. My hobby. My first love. My thinking ground. This place hides my disappointments, my fears, my failures. I share my happiest moment here first.

The ones published are the ones for the world to see! The unpublished ones are mine!

I don't know where it all started! But I clearly remember reading through an author called 'Deepa Bhasti' and wished I can write like her. Found her mail ID and said I envied her. And bang came a reply. Deepa Bhasthi, my hero during that stage of my life has written to me. And she said, 'Sam you should blog'!

There started this Journey. It has been more than 6 years now. 200 times I have been published. Every blog is being read by more than a hundred. Once more than 1000 read one blog. Clearly my record.

This is blog number 200 people! I don't have anything else to say here, except that I'm here to write many more. Thanks for the readers.Thank you so much!

This bumpy Indian road is leading you nowhere!

It was late evening when I boarded that bus! I'm used to bad bus rides; I'm an Indian. But this was something else. The next day when I reached my destination, it was 06:00 PM. 24 hours of non stop bus ride. And we covered 390 Kms. All of 390 kms and it took me more than one full day.

The bus trudged along. Often stopping. Coughing! Twice the tyre was replaced. Once there was an engine breakdown. We all got down every time it stopped; made friends, often over chai, sometimes over roti and dhal; Took bathroom breaks and finally reached home.Tired. Dead.

Not one spoke my language. Not many had the same belief system. Yet we all laughed! Some times at our own inability, some times we fought with the driver. Yes, we fought between us. It was one big complex family, whining along a complex journey.  

That bus drive often reminds me of our country's development saga!

We start, stutter along, stop, replace tyres and move on again. Every time the tyre burst another new tyre with a lot of promise is fit and we start again. Only to realise it is the same old tyre, painted black! So it got punctured again. And then we replace the new one with the old one. Suddenly we hear a noise and the engine shuts down. We replace some screws and bolts and move on again. Till we reach the so called destination.

And then one man came! He promised to fix everything. New tyres, he shouted from roof tops! Developed engines, he said. He wore a new cloth with his own name printed on it. We wow'ed! He named the bus 'smart bus'. Changed the colour of the bus. Taught everybody one language! Made us believe it is easier to travel together with the same belief system. He went around the world looking at various buses and asked them all to join us in the journey. Told us some animals are our mothers and boarded them on to the bus. And told everybody to pay the same fee for the ticket. We got all too excited! Obviously! we love men with white beard and he had the whitest of them all!

So the front seat of scientific education was slowly taken out! A new seat called culture was brought in! It was rather old. But he said without that old seat the bus does not look good. So we agreed! A few opened their tiffin box to have lunch! And was lynched. You cannot eat different food, he said. You should eat only things which do not harm the neighbours sentiments we were told. The new comers in to the bus, the animals were given privilege of seat. Anybody who touched the animal were thrown out of the bus. How do you touch an animal, said he. They are our mothers. The animals shouted a loud 'Maaaa' and we all agreed.

So we have palmists, astrologers travelling with you given privilege of seats. Oh, the old culture seat you see. The animal stench is now researched in the laboratory seats. The cancer patients travelling with you will be cured along the way it seems! By simply touching the animal during the travel. 

Oh, you are driving in the wrong direction my dear country! Albeit, in a bus newly decorated. Lots of colours of course. But the roads are still bad. The potholes worse. The tyres are in fact just painted black. The rubber has come out. The stench still exists. The body was built years ago and will fall off any minute. The brakes are failing; The conductor's bag has a hole. The driver has no support system. There are no police around. All the traffic is going haywire. Suddenly the terrorists are shooting at you and the driver has no clue.

And sadly, you are driving towards a deep valley! And there is no returning back if you fall in to it. For this bumpy Indian road is leading you nowhere. 

United we stand! Divided we fall!

It was hot! The signal went red. I was one among the 100s who stood under the scorching sun waiting for the signal to go green. All eyes were on the signal.

I was cursing the gods when suddenly I heard this blare. A politician speaking her hearts out. As if life is not already bad enough, I listened to her shout on top of her voice.

"Hindus, we have to be united! If one of us is touched, we should all join hands. Nobody should dare touch us. If a muslim is killed, they all gather together. But if a Hindu is killed, nobody comes up together."

I have to agree, I have heard far worse speeches.By every religious entity.  But, this voice lingered on! I went to see my sick sister later that night, but those words kept ringing in my mind.

What audacity? Inciting violence openly! Why should we speak on behalf of our religion in the first place? Anybody being killed is bad. PERIOD. Irrespective of colour, creed, caste, religion! We all should join hands to prevent any killing. ANY KILLING! Not a Hindu, or a Christian or a Muslim being killed.

Dear friends, the politicos are dividing you! They need your vote. They don't care one hoot about you for anything other than your vote. They divide us, on  the basis of every nonsense possible to get our vote. The moment we listen to them, you lose. They win!

Join hands to protest killings. Killing of the Aqlaqs, the Auditor Ramesh's and the Immanuel's. Every Killing. Every Murder. Every lynching. Each life is equally important. One more life dead, is one more black mark on this already dark country. And so Join hands together.

For United we stand! Divided we fall!

The story of Yuvraj Singh! Of destiny, greatness and expectations!

He was a rich man's son. In fact his father was a Indian cricketer himself! His father had made him a cement pitch with nets at his home in Chandigarh. He practised cricket at his home under the watchful eyes of an Indian fast bowler early in his childhood. Not many could afford that. In fact I have not heard of any.

He was the destiny's child. I mean, he was destined for greatness. In fact it would have been surprising had he not made it big in cricket. He had the natural flair. He had that swagger, didn't he? He could hit the most outrageous shot and make it look ridiculously easy. He is the only player who has hit a genuinely fast bowler for six consecutive sixes in this planet. Why only six consecutive sixes? Coz, Stuart Broad bowled only six balls in that over.  Yuvi was that good.

Did the destiny's child achieve what he was destined to achieve? Is playing 300 games an achievement for this outrageous talent? 

Well, the first three paragraphs looked rosy, isn't? How we wish life is like that? A bed of roses! Just the roses, without the thorns! Like an Indian road without the pothole! Oxymorons, aren't they? Roses without thorns. Indian roads without potholes. It just does not happen

And so were there, the thorns and the potholes, for Yuvi and his life as well. His parents separated. The stability of the family is lost. Sometimes I think his talent got to him. I mean, since he was outrageously talented, he played the careless shots. It happens. He had his distractions, which every rich kid in India had! And he had CANCER.

Believe me, that disease is dreadful. That can kill; Mentally, physically, emotionally! I have seen it first hand. 

Yes, Yuvi was destined to play 300 games. But the nurse who brought him to his mother on the day he was born did not bring another plate with 300 ODI games. He had to fight through life, with all the thorns and potholes to get what he was destined to. 

Yuvraj's life is a lesson for me personally in that, even the most incredibly talented individuals, people for whom life has given most things in a platter, will really have to put in as much effort as the guy for whom life was difficult, to achieve in the biggest of theatres. 

In a world which celebrates only 'rags to riches' story, this guy's story should also be told, for it is not easy to achieve what was already expected of you; For expectations can be a dampeners!

Rafa - The greatest athlete of this millenium!

Ten best shots of Roger Federer or the ten best goals of Lionel Messi on YouTube are dumbfounding.  Google them.They are a thing of beauty. You know for sure they cannot be replicated. They are one in a billion. Genius is the word to describe them!

Sometimes we are dazzled by the Genius, since they transcend us from the monotony. From the pain and the suffering. Like a Michael Angelo painting. Like Mozart on the keys. We are made to forget the daily rumblings of the humankind and takes us to the seventh heaven, the state of intense happiness and bliss! The Sachin Tendulkar straight drive, the Michael Jordan air time, a Tiger woods Putt, a Usain Bolt dash! That is what makes sport the greatest live entertainment available.

Yet, there are others who also enthral. Not because of their greatness but by the sheer ability to conquer the mind and will your way to the top. They come across as ordinary human beings, like you and me. The 'WOW' factor is often missing. They huff and puff; They revel in the monotony. They sweat. Fail. Lose. Fail again. Sweat more. Fall down. Get back again. And do it one more time. Till the mind wins the battle. The unforgiving sport has a place for them also.

When Sachin was doing his art, on the other side the great Rahul Dravid often stuttered and stopped. The cover drives often went to the fielder. The boundary balls were not belted. Yet, often at the end of it all, Dravid stood still. The shirt drenched in sweat. The eyes gleaming. Concentration intact. The man in a trance.

Rafael Nadal is of the Dravid ilk. You hit him to death, he will wake up eyes open. He will run down every ball, every game in every set. Till death does him apart.

Rafa does not have the wicked Andy Murray backhand or the Wawrinka forehand. He does not float around like Federer nor sting like Djokovic. Yet he wins! And he has won the physically most demanding grand slam a record ten times. Ten times! In the modern era, I doubt anybody can ever break this record.

That, makes me think he is the greatest athlete of the millenium. For an athlete, the greatest achievement is to maximise whatever was given; And in the physically demanding world of modern generation sport, to conquer the mind and by that conquest, conquering the world is the greatest of athlete.

And no doubt, Rafa is the greatest athlete this side of the twenty first century.

On being independent!

I was brought up to be extremely independent. I mean, in class VI when I joined our school I went alone for the admissions as my dad was busy and told me he will join but could not. In fact, my dad wanted us to be independent that by class 3 we were made to cycle to school 3 Kms from our house.

Suddenly one fine day I decided IT industry is not to my liking and decided to work in a remote place in interor Assam, and not once there was an opposition from my parents! They seconded the notion. Then suddenly my maniacal brain decided to pursue civil service and I'm on my own again. Went to Delhi, walked around, searched for homes, joined classes after enquiring people in the civil services belt! Everything on my own. Without knowing a word of Hindi.

And when I see parents going behind children, it sometimes amuses me! When parents decide where and how and why certain things be done, in a certain way, at a certain time, especially after your school and college days, it irks me as well.

I personally think, we learn life by failing. by being confused; by questioning; by being cheated upon; by learning to trust; by treading carelessly, and falling down; then getting up and falling down again; by burning your fingers; by being lazy; by walking on four legs; by having your face tarred; by facing the giants and getting beaten; by losing hope and trust and belief;

And finally getting up and facing it! Facing life!

I completely understand the need to show the way, the need to correct the path and the importance of being there when the ward is down.

Yet I think, there is this thin line, of being unobtrusive and yet being there, of letting them learn on their own yet making sure they are on the right track, of letting them live their own dreams and yet making sure the dreams don't hurtle down slippery slope.

Why should there be a line? Should there be a line at all? Where do we hold hands and when do we leave them on their own? Does holding hands more than necessary hurt the wards growth? Do they impede happiness?

Ah, the greyishness of my questions!How I wish there are clear white and black answers.

India - Pak and cricket!

India vs Pakistan! A warm Sunday afternoon. Wife on duty. Nobody else to disturb. What else do you want?  My mind went wavering in to the past. Of all the India - Pak legacies which had been part of my life.

So, for my generation cricket started of with the 1996 world cup. Who can forget the Ajay Jadeja onslaught on Waqar younis and of course the famous Aamir Sohail - Venkatesh Prasad incident. Didn't we all show Aamir the way to the dressing room on that glorious night as Prasad did?

Do you guys remember the Independence day Saeed Anwar special? I almost killed my brother in an fit of anger since Inzamam kept going after Saeed. Oh! Who can forget the Rajesh Chauhan six to win a one day match. We all had tears in the eyes, didn't we?

Few can forget the test match loss against Pakistan when Sachin clutching his back and misread a saqlain doosra? Wasim Akram, Waqar Younis, Shoaib Akthar running in gave me chills in the spine then. And then the Kanitkar special? The long hours of discussion we had on the day after the kanitkar boundary?

2003 World cup game! I wrote a board exam the next day and remember every single shot played by the God of Cricket, Sachin Tendulkar.That sparkling cover drive of Wasim Akram of the first ball of the chase and the huge six of Shoaib. Phew! Typing them give me goose bumps.

Who will not remember the T-20 world cup final? In the aiiiirrr, Sreeeessaaanttthhh, takes it, India win, those Ravi Shasthri's words still ring in my mind. And then the most important match of it all. The world cup semifinal of 2011. Wahabs pace and Raina's straight hitting made that day.

Sure, Pakistan is not the same anymore. Never did I think I will say this, but India's fast bowling attack looks better than the paki's for once. The fizz of the Pakistani middle order is missing. The stability of a Misbah or the sheer presence of an Inzamam is not there. But this is India - Pakistan. The mother of all cricket.

I'm ready for another thriller. Are you?

The fallible superstars!

Messi, still Messi, still Messi, Goes through one more person, still Messi! It is a Gooooooaaaaalllllllll! Messssssssssiiiiiiiiiiiii!

What a goal and whadapplayya, shouted the commentator as I opened my mouth in awe. Awe of that man's ability to go through five defenders single handedly (Or is it single leggedly?) and shove that ball into the goal post.

The greatest exponent of football or soccer as it is called in the Americas, Lionel Messi was one of my heroes. I have watched many of his famous goals hundreds of times in the YouTube. His dazzling football skills are a craze world over. He was the quintessential super hero of my generation. Every time he played for Barcelona and every time he stepped on to the ground in the Argentine colours he was worshipped across the world. God he became!

In a world devoid and aching for superstars, the sportsmen and the cinema heroes become Gods. Given demi-god status. And Messi, the man, became one.

Till yesterday! And then the fall from grace. When the Spanish supreme court convicted Messi of tax evasion, another of my super hero fell from grace. He is now convicted to 21 months of imprisonment.

Why oh Messi! Why?  Why didn't you just pay those stupid taxes and why should you evade them? Don't you have enough money already? Ah, the ever questioning inner man started screaming his monologues.

Maria Sharapova, Carl Lewis, Tiger Woods, Christian Laettner, Marion Jones, Ben Johnson, Martina Hingis, Mohammed Azharuddhin, Mohammed Amir, Salman Butt, Oscar Pistorius and the list goes on and on and on!

Of having the fame and the fandom, and losing it all; In a moment of madness; Few minutes idiocy and everything comes crashing down. The world is sometimes cruel. It takes you all the way to the top, only to let you down.

Listen world! And listen carefully. All of them are superstars in their own fields. And that is all they are. Not gods. Don't make them one and feel bad when they let you down. Not one of them is the perfect human being we make them out to be; as imperfect as the stupid me.

There is One God and the rest all are Fallible human beings! Fallible superstars!

The irreplaceable mother!

The unforgiving timeline keeps reminding me of her! On mothers day. The irreplaceable mom!

So, in the last three years(Three years?Almost!) of her not being with us, many people have tried to play her role. And I submit this blog for them.

The dad, who had led from the front. It is tough on that man, to play the role of a woman who was poles apart and to do that despite the emotional trauma he had to go through. I bow down.

The Aunts! All five of them. Should I mention them separately here? One by one. Almost racing with each other to fill that vacuum. One has taken over the home. One has called me every week. I know for sure one prayed for me almost everyday. One bought every available gift that she thought my mom would have bought. One even tried playing the MIL to the wife.

Then the sister to whom I'm indebted. She has gone out of the way many times to be there. The person to rant to and the person who rants.

The dearest team in Dedu, who made me come out of the depression that had hit me then.

And finally, and most importantly the wifey! You can't complete her role in a sentence.

I'm thankful for every single one of them. For trying to do an impossible task. Of playing the role of a woman who was a genius. And a mother. For mothers are irreplaceable!

Of closed and open homes!

Ever since me and my scholarly brother had a chat about this topic I have been thinking about this. The closed and Open homes! The homes which are open to anybody and everybody at any point of time, and the homes that prefers the silence and the privacy of it all.

I'm not here to judge anybody here! I have my preferences and I am sure all of us have our own preferences and that does not mean I'm judgemental. Just opening my thoughts and views on this subject.

I come from an open home! Our house was open for anybody. Any friend could come and stay with us for any number of days and nobody ever questioned. In fact, everybody was welcomed. Everybody became part of the family. Friends came in plenty. Mine, my brother's, dad's, mom's, cousin's, aunt's, uncle's. Everybody's. One fellow stayed for more than five years and we call him our brother. One came everyday and his family is part of us. And then the relatives! So many of them. In fact we lived as a joint family for a long time that I have no cousins. I look at them as only my brothers and sisters.

Halls were the dinning halls. Noise was always the order of the day. Private space was always a rarity. Music was ever present. Cricket matches were watched together.

Then there are closed homes! The parents and the children! Friends can come. If they come, they have their place. The relatives come once a while, sometimes stayed on for a few days. Some homes I know even don't allow friends inside. But they are a rarity I presume. They prefer the silence. The quietness of the night. The religiosity of eating dinner at the dinning table. The private space which was respected.

So, what do I prefer?

I wish to have an open home. Where everybody was welcomed. Where life was full. Yes, there were times when I felt nauseated. when I wished to be alone. But then I don't like the thought of having a closed private home. Somehow don't feel comfortable doing that.

And thankfully my wife agrees with me!

Three days of Just friendship!

I'm seriously going through a depressing phase in life! I mean, I'm alright, but don't know how life is going to pan out in the next few years and there are hundreds of questions that is just crowding my mind and heart.

In that back drop last weekend a few friends decided to have a 'Just friends' weekend! I mean, there was nothing else. Just friends in those three days. We did what we had always enjoyed. And nothing else.

I decided I will not use my mobile for those three days. Of course, on the one day when office was working there were the inevitable calls. But over all we just lost touch to the outer world.

Yes, there were cricket games. The body really getting old, which had not been abused so much for a long time did resist, but din't take away the fun of a seriously competitive cricket match. The much loved late night discussion on various topics happened. The long walks with friends, lying on each other without any aim, the pulling of legs, the fun, the laughter, the banter and the gossip. The food indulgence. The vellore biriyani. Long late night drives. The late night coffee standing in an empty road. Lyf!

Oh ya, a few are married! And that added to the fun. When women join the gang, it may be spoilers, but not with this gang. They let us be! And thanks to them for that.

Oh how i wish life remained still those three days. Sadly life took over again! And the questions:(

Why we need peace and not a temple in Ayodhya!

Dear Chetan,

Since you had mentioned that your logical article could not be rebutted logically, I thought I will try; to make you understand my logic, on why the need for the country is peace and not a temple!

Disclaimer : I loved your two states and have to credit you for making a generation read simple english books. I do envy your success,but in no way going to bash you for not agreeing with me.

It is becoming fashionable among the right wingers to say everybody who oppose them as anti Hindus. You are no exception. Most of the people in the elite Indian circle you have mentioned are also Hindus. And so there can be absolutely no religious bias in giving statements that are opposing the right wing Hindu view and surely are not anti Hindu.

And sadly, I disagree with the fact that the Hindu right wing is begging for a temple in Ayodhya. There was one other building there which was demolished without permission, and not one person involved in that demolition has faced any punishment till now. Imagine, I raze down your house saying it is my right to build my house there since my ancestors lived there, do you call me begging to live there? Or do you think I'm arrogant to ask like that?

I agree with you that violence was wrong, illegal and unfortunate; But violence has happened and the perpetrators of that crime still go around without any sense of wrong doing and that is not bringing any peace to this country.

Logically, you say there is no reason for peace to be disturbed, if status quo is changed! Well, logic does not work in emotional human beings Chetan.It simply does not. Why can't the Hindu leaders or those that claim to represent it, help bring to conviction those who demolished the building in the first place? Show the Muslim community that you mean well to them, and ask for support in return. And by the way, if suddenly the muslim community says some 'X' place is their ancestral fiefdom and there is a temple built on it, does your logic say the temple should be demolished to build a mosque with the blessings of the Hindu leaders?

Alright Chetan, I will have to agree with your logical next point. Why can't the Muslim community build one more mosque next door rather than ask for that particular place since the religious importance is more important for Hindus than for Muslims. I agree with you completely. But again, if you think there are politically instigated leaders in the Muslim community don't you think the entire 1992 saga was politically motivated? And the Muslim community has not yet healed of the unfortunate incident that hit them in 1992. Let them heal. The present political dispensation has not done anything to let them heal. And especially in the last three years, politically motivated leaders don't let them heal as well.

Again, your logic is right! Hospitals can be built anywhere and need not be built in a place which could be used as a tourism centre. Yet, with political instigation happening in both the parties and nobody willing to yield an inch, why can't we just build a hospital there where both Muslims and Hindus come and get healing peacefully. We can't let a generation not have peace just because political dispensations do not have the political will to do it. And by the way, building a hospital will also give jobs to both to the Hindus and Muslims.

As far as proof is concerned, since you yourself have agreed that there is no proof; why can't we just leave it at that? There are also rumours that this place was inhabited by buddhists before. So why not a buddhist stupa? Hazy proof, and people's beliefs cannot be taken in complicated cases and you know that well. And this is as complicated as it gets.

I don't agree with the fact that India, in trying to appease minorities ignores Hindu issues. As far as I see, we have never said no to any Hindu temple being built any where in the country as much as the Muslims and the christians have been allowed to build their holy places. The only 'No' has been here in this place and that is because  another structure has been demolished to build one new. I have seen temples built in the middle of roads and nobody raises a voice against it. This majority pity syndrome is a political strategy used by the political masters and don't be a pawn in that.

I agree that we will have to keep a lid on the violence in case this project you envision goes ahead. But without getting justice for the previous injustice meted to them, especially in the charged atmosphere why take the risk? Even if it risks one life, is the risk worth taking? Actually in the age of digital communication the risks are bigger.

This is a point by point rebuttal from a young Indian, who has nothing to do with both the muslim and the Hindu community except having very good friends in both communities and also somebody who thinks peace is far more important than any construction built by human hands.

P.S This is a point by point rebuttal for the article by Chetan Bhagath given below
http://blogs.timesofindia.indiatimes.com/The-underage-optimist/why-we-need-a-ram-temple-in-ayodhya/

Worship - Ala 'Ram Mandir - Babri Masjid' issue!

So with the new BJP govt in the state of UP, inevitably the news revolves around the never ending Indian saga "Ram Mandhir - Babri Masjid" issue.

No, I'm not an expert and neither do I want to ruffle feathers. But I do have the right to voice my opinion though and here it is. Not really on the issue as such, but the entire idea of going to 'Religious structures' to worship a supposedly omnipresent being.

I'm taught to, and have been going to churches on Sundays to worship. I completely understand the logic of a public gathering for worship! But do we need structures exclusively constructed for the purpose of worship? Agreed, the sanctity and the serenity of the worship places help worship. But are they more important than the worship itself?

Oh my mind! The stupidly logical mind. It questions everything.

Can't we gather in a small home to worship whenever we want? Should we gather in such huge numbers, invariably disturbing the general public? And why this public affirmation of worship in the first place? I mean, why should your neighbour even know that you are worshipping the creator?

As far as I know, the word 'Church' of the bible denoted groups of people, not structures built by human hands! And especially when these structure themselves create controversies, should we not just bury them of as unnecessary appendages in the journey of life? Should we be carrying baggages for 500 long years? Doesn't the God of the ages, consider peace and harmony more important than man made constructions?

Dear world, we live for a petty twenty thousand days! Searching for peace, and looking for it in the worship of God is important! But let not our worship, its patterns, its intricacies and the rituals disturb the peace of another man. And that is primarily not what worship is designed for!

The women's day business and the women I wish I had known better!

Another usual day. The dad called as usual as soon as his evening walk started. It is international women's day today, said he! Ya, I read about it, I replied nonchalantly. They don't excite me anymore as much as it used to. Then he said, it was his mother's death anniversary as well! That got me going.

She was one woman who I wish I had known better. 

Working in one of the leading medical colleges in the country or even the world, sometimes makes me lift my collar up. Not a big deal; More than 10,000 people work with me. Yet, there is this sense of belonging to a prestigious organisation with such repute and history. And this woman, my grandmother, belonged to the first batch of MBBS, which Aunt Ida, the founder herself started. Isn't that something?

Many times as I walk through the streets of the small town of sivakasi, I have had people ask me, "Gnanadurai amma peron ah nee(Are you the grandson of Dr. Gnanadurai?). And this almost 15-20 years after her death.

How I wish she had been here now? I would have asked her how Aunt Ida looked like?How hard she worked? What was it to be the lone lady doctor in those parts of South India? Why did she chose sivakasi? Or did Sivakasi choose her? What made her give away the plenty of opportunities to go abroad and live life there? How was it to be married to a maniacal economist? a strict pastor? And more importantly, a writer? How close was she to her brothers, and the sister ( Who was stopped from continuing medical studies, since my gandma could not be married off easily)? How did it feel losing a brother so early in life? 

Oh yes, I would definitely have asked how it was growing up the three children? How different was the girl from the boys? 

I have had questions on how difficult it is to be one of the few women who went to college rather than get married and settle down. I would have surely asked her that. When the world around thought women were not good enough to study, what made her decide to go on? Surely there would have been the societal pressure. Questions, questions, questions! I would have bombarded her with so many of minds crazy questions.

Well, Grandma, the world celebrated women's day on your anniversary! May be just to remind us, the children, the grandchildren and the great grand children, that there once lived a woman who fought all odds, and lived life on her terms, because of whom, in whom, and through whom we all came into existence. 

BJP and the 'Development'conundrum!

Well, we have all heard that word! Haven't we? Development! One man sold that word from every nook and corner of this country. We believed him. Of course, we din't have an option. Yet, I'm still confused on what in that word made us believe in him. Come let us do an analysis.

So I think the definition of development included bringing in more Jobs, which means bringing in more private companies. And that means enticing the companies to set up shops in India. But sadly according to the labour bureau reports the last year has seen the lowest year on year growth since 2009 barring 2012 for which the data is missing.

The other major charge which the now ruling party and all of us had on the then ruling party was the depreciating value of rupee! And the increased cost of petrol, diesel and the Gas. Well, the less said about the prices of these three, the better for the current govt. The sad part is the global prices of the oil contents have come down and yet not ours.

Yes, we wanted the bullet trains, the smarter, cleaner cities. With due regards to the PM, they take some time to come and he has started the process I presume.

Has the corruption come down? May be yes. May be no! No big fish is being caught. But that may also mean the big fishes are escaping the catch.Oh ya I forgot the black money! The election commission has caught 3 times more money in this elections than in the previous elections, which means the demonetisation has not worked well.And in fact demonetisation surely makes people think that the GDP growth is fudged.

The education budget has been reduced! For the first time ever since I started following budgeting. Not that our govt schools have started doing better.

Health care, Well, I have been in that sector now for a few years to know that we are going fast in to a deep pit.

So what exactly was the development he meant? What did that word mean, that attracted us to him?

Market capitalism, which I think is what people wanted out of Modiji and BJP cannot co-exist with the religious fundamentalism ideology of the current ruling party. And elections funded by the capitalistic bigwigs cannot repay us in the kind we want.

Next time when he comes riding on that word 'development'again,ask him clearly what and whose development he means?

May be he meant the development of 'Religious fundamentalism, fascism and bigwig capitalists'.

Letter to my dear Tamilian!

Dear Tamilian,

I'm Tamil and I am having a mixed feeling on seeing all that is happening around! A feeling of helplessness, anger, confusion and even hatred. I know a lot of you share my feeling as well.

That Sasikala cheated us by entering through the back door is hurting. Yes, really hurting. That some body who did not win an election, corrupt and in Jail could lead us by proxy is really unfortunate. Life in Tamil Nadu is not fair, I presume. Life in India is not fair, for that matter.

Friends, I think it is time, we take up the cause and fight for our right rather than trusting these morons. I, intentionally include OPS and the opposition party chief in to my categorisation of morons as well. Let us not fool ourselves again by voting for a man who bent his spine backwards for a corrupt woman or for a man whose only claim to power is his dad.

So, what do we do next? I seriously seriously don't know. I'm sorry, I'm in the same frustrating boat of not knowing what to do next.

Yet, getting that eerie feeling of doing something. Do you have that feeling as well? Cheers! Write back to me. or ping me. At least we will pull each other's brains off till we get a solution. Let there be solid discussions. Let us take this opportunity to become responsible citizens. Citizens who are more involved in the day to day polity of this country.

And one final warning, let us be wary of the men in front off and behind the camera. We worship them enough already. And let them not be rulers just because they look good on the screen. I know there are good people in that arena as well. I just wish they don't take advantage of their cinema stardom to become rulers.

We are a developed group of people, friends. Much more developed than any other state in the country. That due to some good politics, sometimes despite bad politics. We fought and won a brave fight for the cows. We withstood a furious nature and stood strong. Let this bad phase make us better people and lead us to greener pastures.

Democracy & Sasikala!

Democracy and Sasikala? I know most of the modern generation youth acquainted with blogs will surely sneer at the title. They should not go hand in hand. I mean, they do not.

But why don't they? What is the problem? My maniacal mind is just refusing to accept the common man's verdict. I think, the democracy which gave Jayalalitha a chance in the first place, should give Sasikala a chance as well.

I understand you don't like that! Jayalalitha won elections. She was adored by the people. What has Sasikala done? Sasikala has got the mandate of the 100 odd elected representatives, which you and me elected. Of course yes, she will have to get the people's verdict within 6 months. I don't see absolutely anything wrong in that. If you don't like her being the CM, throw her out. I mean, vote her out.

I understand most of you also hate democracy. Yes, we don't get to participate enough in this model of democracy. I'm sorry, but this is the best we have! Imagine living under an autocratic Modi or Kejriwal? Democracy with all its flaws is the best we have.

Jaya was an actor! A non tamil. Arrogant. Corrupt. We gave her a chance. In fact we dared to call her 'Amma', a word I reserve for greater souls.Yes Sasikala has come to the throne through the backdoor of democracy. Yet, to get to the throne, she has to enter one more gate for which the keys are with you. If you think she is good enough, vote her. Else throw her out.

I repeat! Don't frown at democracy. For all its nonsense, that is the best we have. And don't fret at Sasikala. Throw her out.

RIP Nirmal Sekar! You made me believe in the pen.

"The higher you soar, the smaller you appear to those who cannot fly" wrote Nirmal Sekar in the late nineties on Pete Sampras, the greatest tennis player before the millenium.

I read that quote again. And again, and again. What a profound thought. I fell in love with that article and then that man. Greg "Nobody" Rusedski had said about Sampras, that he is done and should retire. Pete "Greatman" Sampras, replied in the only way he can by winning the US open one last time before bidding good bye. Nirmal Sekar was sublime on the day after Sampras had retired. Those philosophical words had come then.

Reading him was pure joy! Every time he wrote an article, I read it once, then twice and thrice. The words he used, they spoke to me. It was pure magic. I close my eyes and imagine his thoughts. And they were profound. Always. They spoke to you in deeply philosophical language. They showed me the power of the word. The power of the pen.

He made me do this crazy thing! To sit and play around with words at half past ten, when the world around me had slept off, after a crazily busy and tiring day. Most of my sports philosophy are copied from him.

RIP Nirmal Sekar sir! You taught me, that words have beauty. I wish you had lived on for many more years. Your writings though will. For a very long time. At least in my heart.

Dream Team! My work place!

Those sports fans out there, have you heard of this team? The dream team? They went out there and defeated its opponents by an average of 44 points en route to the Olympic basketball gold medal. That team is described as the greatest sports team ever assembled on planet earth.

When my boss, who is embarking on a two year study leave said this about the team I am part of now, it got me thinking.

Dream team? Are we? What makes us special? No, the team does not have the talents which the original team of Michael Jordan and Magic Johnson had. Not even a semblance of that. Not one, except may be the boss herself has the charisma that will turn the eyes on you.

The team contains a bunch of ordinary mortals. Yet, they pull off works of the magnitude that, believe me, has set standards very high. What makes this team great? My mind repeated the question again. What makes me want to go back to work day in and day out? Though many times, it is bloody hard work. What makes the team attractive that I don't mind being part of this small group of people all my life, and gives me immense Job satisfaction

I have worked in good teams before. Have had really good bosses. Have seen the best of the IT world and also the best of the NGO world. Have been in the poshest of cities, also been in the remotest of villages. Yet, dare I say, these two years are the best I have ever had. The question beckons me again! What makes my team good? I mean, great!

I doubt the answer is that simple! Yet, that word 'Simplicity' as a noun may be the answer. "Simplicity is the virtue of removing the extraneous to reveal the essence. In other words, every body is just their innate self in this team. Nobody hides. Nobody plays otherwise. Everybody is just themselves. And that I think is the greatest advantage. Nobody has to hide anything. The team works around weaknesses. Works with them. On them. Through them. In fact, weaknesses are sometimes boasted about. That makes people secure.

Make people secure in their work place world! And you will have a dream place and team to work with. A lesson my boss taught me in the last two years. 

Cheer up 30s!

It was a mad summer of 1999! Steffi Graf was playing her final wimbledon. I had just entered my teens. Graf was the first teenage crush. But the entire media attention was on this little 15 year old kid who was playing her first Wimbledon semi final.

Lucic Baroni played her only other semi final two days ago in the 2017 Australian open! Yes you read it right 2017 it is! after 18 years.

In the post match interview, she said this and I quote! "I can't tell you what happened to my life in between. But I am back here!" At the age of 33. She is back in a grand slam semifinal. After messing up most of her twenties. Life!

And whom did she play in the Australian Open semi final? Venus Williams! That girl played her first final against Martina Hingis in 1997. Phew. And Venus has a sister called Serena who is 35 herself playing her umpteenth final.

And even as I'm typing this, Nadal has booked a place in the final against the ageless Federer.

What's up 30s? You don't quit when you are 30, do you?

I was a loser. All my 20s went away in my own pursuit of what I thought was life! The world suddenly started looking old. Everybody around looked better, coz they handled life better in their 20s. The paunch slowed me down. The face became round! Well, more round. The specs became bigger.

Are you in the same boat friend? Belonging to the generation which has just entered the 30s? And look around lost at the fast paced world? Do you look at the younger lot with envy? Is the mind quitting more often?There is hope! 30s is not the end of it. You can begin life at 30. So showed Baroni, Williams, Nadal, Federer and the ilk.

I'm not quitting on myself anytime soon!