Random reflections on my Liberian trip!

If you grow up in a devout Christian household like mine, chances are you would have chanced upon a book about the missionary to Africa Dr. David Livingstone. The famous statement "Dr.Livingstone, I presume" still echoes in my ears. Sadly, that was my only African connection till 2 weeks ago. Africa, the continent of mystique and mystery; of dense forests and rough terrain; of innumerable people with thousands of dialects; of slave labors and diamonds. Ah, the innumerable stories we have all heard about it. 

As my flight landed in Nairobi, Kenya with all those primitive, childlike yesteryear thoughts I got off. Only to be surprised. High-flying expressways and swanky new malls welcomed me to the city. The proud Kenyan friend reiterated the fact that her country is among the most developed in the continent, and among the fastest growing in the world. After a few days of enjoying the Kenyan hospitality, I landed in Liberia. A western African country off the coast of the South Atlantic ocean. 

The next two weeks were spent in this beautiful country and more so in a beautiful compound right across the beach. This is what I woke up to every day. 

Yet, the country was very different!  As a student of International Development, this country made me think deeply, and here are a few of my brain's random scribblings.

At the outset there was poverty! Evident and on the face. Life had not been easy for the people. They had faced civil war and by the time the war came to an end after 14 long years, Ebola came about, and another few years of complete closure ensued. 

A generation or two has not seen the schools! How can a country grow if there is a young population without education? Can any country at all grow without concentrating on the education of its populace? Is education the be-all and end-all of growth and development? Can learning and thinking skills be taught apart from the schooling structures to fast-track development? The questions that thronged my mind were many. 

The roads were pathetic, to say the least. The less said the better about other infrastructure. Someone said they have 75% unemployment. Agriculture hadn't yielded desired results. Healthcare is abysmal. Corruption was rampant. Where do we even start, if there has to be some development in the life of the people, was a question I constantly asked myself! 

As I was typing this a feeling of helplessness swamped me! Sadly, life is not fair. Amidst the cacophony of noises in my mind, I heard a shrill clear sound. "Sir, food"! It was the air hostess. "Vegetarian for you", she continued. But I eat non-vegetarian, I protested. "Sorry sir, but we have only beef". It is okay ma'am, I eat beef, I said. "Are you sure sir?" Sure, please give. She gave me the beef meal and left me to my thoughts and beef. I was still lost in my thoughts, with the beef meal in my hands, when a minute or two later she came back again. "Sir, that one is a 'beeeeef', you got me well, right". I sheepishly smiled back.

 "India beckons!"

The friend turned hero!

Age hasn't slowed her, even as the grey strains of hair are beginning to show up. As she bent forward to examine the broken feet of the man, she showed no signs of tiredness. "Aap kyun nahin hospital aaya" her words radiated anger and pain. A tinge of frustration as well. "Kal aao, mein aapkeliye treatment-free banaya". I followed her words carefully, lest my poor Hindi misses something important. I gathered that she is promising free treatment to the man if he comes to the hospital tomorrow. 

The man used to beg. Occasionally collected garbage to earn some money. In a freak accident, he had lost his legs. Life cannot be this cruel. It had hardly given him anything before. A small plastic sheet that he calls home. The old cot on which he is lying down. Wife and three children. Few utensils to cook food. The dress on the family smelt old. Old will be an understatement. 

There is pain everywhere. It was suffocating. Questions thronged in my mind. Where did it all go wrong? Children on the streets, begging. One food a day, if available. Ragged clothes. Pigs and humans almost eating in the same place. No place called a shelter. People eating rats. Children and women dying dime a dozen. Life had no value. The world of poverty and pain. The world I hardly understood. 

In that sinkhole of terribleness, 'S' and family serve. One patient at a time. One more man healed, even if temporarily, healed nevertheless, at least to live one more day to beg. 'S'! The 'S' I had known so well. The 'S' I grew up with. The earliest friend I know. 'S', the best outgoing student from the best medical college in India. 'S', the mother of three beautiful children. 

As we walked back home with heavy hearts, She narrated all the stories of pain that she had witnessed over the years. I saw something that I had missed seeing in her all the years. A complete sense of serenity. Three young kids don't frustrate her. Their future doesn't make her anxious. Hundreds of patients thronging every inch of the place don't irritate her. The pain and suffering around her don't make her helpless. 

The work is incredibly satisfying Sam, she said. 

'S', her husband 'G' and her friends, and everyone serving humanity in that place. Flickering lights in the darkest of places; keep my hope in human beings alive. 

Is there hope for humankind? I don't know! Perhaps 'S' has an answer. 

I went to the poorest state in India. Among the poorest districts of that state, and among the poorest areas of the district to meet a friend. I came back, watching a real-life hero in action. For 'S' surely is a hero this side of heaven. 

My two cents on Hijab and education!

The court verdict didn't come as a surprise to me at all. Ah, we know it all too well, don't we? 

For those who stay away from the daily news and thus haven't heard about this issue, here is what happened. A few girl children were banned from entering school premises with their hijab on, citing various reasons, one of which was that Hijabs aren't part of the school uniform. The girls went to the court and the Karnataka high court has let the schools have their way and said that the girls have to follow the rules of the school and should not wear Hijab to school if the school says so. 

Social media is filled with hundreds of opinions and so I feel indebted to give mine as well. Here are my two cents. 

I think the role of the state(govt) is to make sure the necessary provisions reach every citizen. By necessary I mean food, security, health care, and education. I don't care if the state where I belong gives me a sim card or runs an airline, but I want the state to provide every individual, with those necessary things I have mentioned above. 

It is the mandate of the state to make these things available through every objection possible. Cultural, religious, and regional barriers should never come in between providing the basic necessities to its citizen. Any barrier, the state should try to overcome. 

If I, as a citizen of a country, tell my child that he/she should not study unless he/she wear a particular dress, the state should find a way out of it, to help my ward get education through the complexities. A citizen can complicate his life due to economic, cultural, and religious pressures. But a progressive liberal state in the modern world should look beyond them. 

So in the current scenario, the govt should actively promote educating the girls. If the girls say they will come to school only by wearing a hijab, so be it. Educating that one kid is a hundred times more important than everyone wearing a school uniform. 

Our state gives free food, so that the children come to school, at least to get food! That is how important education is. Even economic problems should not come in between a child and their education. Religious, cultural norms can surely be overcome, if only we have our hearts in the right place. 

Is the heart in the right place though? Does the state intend on educating, 'every individual '? 

I sincerely doubt the intentions of the state! 

The lonely girl in a man's world!

This lady 'X' had been married when she was 17. After having multiple children the husband left her to fend for herself. 'X' married off her eldest daughter when she was in her teens. The eldest daughter's husband left her after giving her two girl children. 

Now 62, 'X' along with an uneducated daughter and her two grandchildren are trying to live life on their own. Educating the girl was costlier then. Educating the girl wasn't on their mind. Education for girl children, the religion didn't approve of. Educating the girl was antithetical to the societal norms. 

After so many years and multiple generations, the family is finally living the fury of the patriarchal stupidity of the society. 

As wifey was discussing this story about this family, I was reminded and deeply disturbed by another video which was doing the rounds on Social Media. A video of a young girl in hijab being heckled by young boys, most probably her own classmates. 

It was scary! heartbreaking! What was going through her mind when she walked across these hecklers? 

Finally through all the patriarchal idiocy of generations when the girl child could come to school, they are being heckled and booed out of their classrooms in the name of religion and religious identities. 

No, I don't know how it feels to be a woman in this man's world. But I know it is time I shut everything up and let the girls be. Don't let religious, societal and cultural compulsions come in between the girls and their education. Let them be. Let them just be. 

A failed society, a failed church!

Where do I start? It has been one such day when the heart is heavy and the mind is all over the place.

He is just 18 years old. When people use the term 'skin and bone', most of the times we exaggerate. This kid was just bones. The skin was literally hanging on the bones. I have seen pictures like this before, but this was real. Here is a human being in flesh and blood; I mean, there wasn't flesh, but he is talking and moving.

The boy is not eating well said the father. He has an acidic problem. Once the problems sort itself out, things will be alright, the father seemed delusional. His boy is dying, and the man has not understood the seriousness of the situation. He is not in the right frame of mind to understand I would presume, for no father in their mind would want to see the kid suffer.

A random neighbour realising something wrong called this organisation to help. There is a kid behind closed door emaciated and dying. God had been kind enough to involve me in the rescue attempt. We went there and brought the kid and the father to the hospital. After an initial investigation, the doctors immediately suspected TB. Their face said it all. They have not seen so much TB. I could sense a shaken wifey near me looking at the horror of it all. Everyone looked numb.

Where did it all go wrong? Here is a middle-class man, who had been working with fairly decent pay. He has a small house in Chennai, rented or owned is a different issue. Perhaps it is a broken family, with the mother in some other place. Of course, the father has lost his job and there was not much money to put food on the table. But how did the outside world miss such a horrible thing in the middle of Chennai? How did their church miss that there is something amiss?

In the heartland of Chennai, a boy who hadn't had food for 'God knows how many days', should be out in the open. The father had kept him locked for many days, it seems. Aren't there any relatives who knew the family? What happened to the neighbours? The church where the father used to go to? In fact, the father had taken the boy to the hospital twice, only to be administered some glucose without even diagnosing a disease.

Say hello to your neighbour. Perhaps they are going through hell. Listen to the broken relative. Maybe he has a sad story to share. The world needs your empathy. The world needs your attention.

Another 18-year-old is battling for life, for the sheer apathy of the society and the church! How many more do we lose before we are shaken up?

Foreign policy - A primer

I live in a huge family; Our house is among the poorer families in the locality, but we were growing into the middle class. Few family members had become rich and are doing well; We were hoping to be the next big superstar family. The world was beginning to take notice.

We have a neighbour who is bigger and ten times more powerful than we are. While we were struggling to even put food on the table, my neighbours had grown by leaps and bounds. We can see them use their power in the world around us. Though they were creating problems all around, they were becoming richer by the day. Most families in my area were buying products from the companies they owned. They were cheaper and sometimes were of better quality as well.

Suddenly, one day they started demolishing the common compound wall and tried to get a hold of some part of our land. These are difficult times. Many in the family had just lost their jobs. Hunger deaths can not only be heard but seen. On top of that, there is a disease that is threatening our livelihood. The neighbour is capitalising on these struggling times and trying to show his power. What do we do? What should be our response?

We can use our valour and power and go fight the neighbour. But he is more powerful! Surely if he strikes back the losses are going to be huge. We cannot lose lives. No, not even one. Losing lives to protect a compound wall is unreasonable. Idiocy!

What else? We can stop buying their products. That will dent their economy since we are among the major consumers. But, if we don't buy from them, where do we buy from? We don't have the capacity to manufacture ourselves. Most of our products are costlier and is leaving the family members who buy them, poorer. Is it worth the risk in times like this? That is a serious question to ponder.

The basic premise of foreign policy is to make the lives of the millions in India better, by generating wealth, prosperity and thereby power. So any relationship with any of our neighbour will have to rest on this strategic condition, that it will generate wealth, prosperity and hence power, in that order.

Is there a way out of our China mess without hurting the life of the citizenry? Only time can tell. Perhaps talking our way out of it looks the better option.

Seven young girls, a hope and a miracle!

Seven young girls, like the many millions in this country, lost their job due to COVID-19. As hope always does to anyone, they kept living in their meagre savings hoping that one day the lockdown will be over and life will come back to normalcy. Sadly, one can only hope! Life is a lot complex. Slowly the savings got over. The employer helped for some time with food, but nobody could afford free lunch forever. Realising that very soon they will have to start planning their way back home to Odisha, these girls started to walk towards the Chennai central railway station.

Sadly they attracted eyeballs. By the time a few volunteers from the 'Loving migrants' group found this out, there were men asking all sorts of questions. They were wary of even the volunteers until a few women in the group could convince them about their right intentions.

Now, sending migrants back home is a long and tedious process. They will have to be sent to a shelter house, tested for COVID, registered with the government, wait for their state's trains before they can reach home. All these take time.

The group set the ball rolling. The women shelter houses were informed about the presence of another seven girls. But sadly, the shelter houses weren't willing to take them in, fearing corona. "We don't let them in without testing for COVID", said their in-charge. But COVID tests in government hospitals are strenuously difficult affairs. They never could afford private testing. How long can they be left stranded on the roads? Especially with so many of the men watching their every step. The volunteers decided to spare some money and put them in a safe lodge until further action.

While all these were happening a volunteer 'A' who was packing the kits for the day's train to Assam happened to meet a railway official. A informed about the plight of these girls to the railway official. The official had a brain wave. "The Shramik train for the day going to Assam is supposed to stop in Odihsa to fill water. We will try and put them into this train" said the official.

These girls were packed off immediately in a small car and brought to the Railway station. But as luck would have it, another official from the Assamese embassy stopped the girls from entering the platform. "This is a train by the Assam government, meant for Assamese. We are not letting anybody else in"; A was stuck again; What do we do now? Take them back to the lodge? How safe are these lodges to stay overnight? The questions are many, answers are few and far between.

When the Assame official was looking else-where A managed to sneak in the girls into the railway platforms and with the help of the railway official helped them enter the train before anybody else could step in. The group managed to find someone in the Odisha railway station to pick them up and take them safely to their places.

When A narrated this story, he mentioned it to be a miracle that anyone could get a train the same day and reach home so fast. It is sad, that it has to be a miracle for young women in this country to reach home safe. It is equally sad that so many good people have to come together to safely pave a path back home for young women in this postmodern world.

Hope the situation settles down and hope the young girls can fly their nest again; Well, hope can be a powerful weapon in a world where miracles like these happen!

My tryst with the migrant labour tragedy!

This was me till yesterday. Hiding from the world and from reality. My brother and I joined a few incredible group of people to help the migrants stuck on the roads due to the COVID lockdown. These people have been doing it for many days and we just joined them for a day to see what is happening. 

Young boys and girls, most of them as young as we are, if not younger,  were sitting by the road. "Kaana kaaliya?" I asked a young man; "Nahin saab", came the reply. He said they were waiting for a train to take them to Bihar. "Train to Bihar?" I asked him. "Haan Ji, hum patna thak jaana padega"; If only he knew that there is no train to Bihar tomorrow, I thought to myself. If only they know? They knew there are no trains tomorrow. Nor for the entire next week. But they are willing to wait. Till they get a train. Do they have a choice? 

As I quietly laid down in bed late yesterday night in the airconditioned comforts of my bedroom, the image of that boy who spoke to me came haunting back. He looked smart. Tall and handsome. In jeans and sneakers. 

How does it feel to beg for food, I asked myself. How does it feel to not know when and where life is taking you? What are his thoughts right now? Is he thinking about his ageing parents? Or his lost dreams? Perhaps he is thinking about the unpaid loan and the after-effects of that. Does he even have the mental energy to care about these things in the absence of the bare minimal food? 

"Where are the toilets for so many people?" I asked one of those there. "Don't ask questions for which you don't have answers for", said he; If only there are answers! I told myself. Till the point, you and I bury our heads in the cacophony of the world without listening to the intricate cries of pain of the real human beings there are no answers. 

Even as these thoughts were wrestling for space in that small brain space of mine, a sudden thought came to me. If a few men, like the volunteers who took us, who had their eyes and ears open to the harsh realities of the suffering could find answers to the questions thrown at them, why can't I?

Perhaps, I have my eyes and ears in the deepest bottoms of my privilege! 

Corporates are bad! Government's are good!

" If you're not a socialist at the age of 20 you have no heart. If you're not a conservative at the age of 40, you have no head "

I read this and it made me think. When I was 20, I was a hardcore socialist. For those happy and ignorant, "socialism is the political and economic theory which advocates, means of production, distribution and exchange should be owned or regulated by the community as a whole".  We pool in all the economic resources and divide it equally. This division of resources will be regulated by the government. What a beautiful Idea, I thought. 

India grew up with socialist ideologies as well. The government will lead the manufacturing of all the goods. All services are provided by the government. They are all provided evenly. There is no divide between the rich and the poor. The British who were the sole reason for us being the poor country have gone. The good Indian government will take the resources from the rich and share it evenly with all the citizens of India. Redistribution is the word! We will all live happily ever after. After all, we have our own government and so we will soon be rich. 

Life though was not the same. After forty years of socialism, in spite of the good people in the government, there was something amiss. Ah, the government is filled with corrupt people. We change the government we will be fine said a few friends. I completely agreed. After all proper redistribution cannot be a bad idea, can it? Change the government, and bingo, we will be rich. For sure this time! 

Few people advocated private ownership of property. The evil and the wicked, I thought. How can anyone who has his intentions on making profit be of any good to the common public? The rich corporates, they are money suckers. They are not like the government, who intends good for the public. They are only after the money. They will do anything to get more and more money. They might even kill. Bloody corporates! I even refused to buy products from the corporate bigwigs. I would rather help the poor farmer, you see. The 20s and idealism go well together, I presume. 

But the ideal world of socialism with more and more government means of production did not seem to be working. In fact, the poor have remained poor forever. Where did it all go wrong? I kept asking myself! I started to read economics, and it dawned on me the folly of it all. 

Human beings are primarily selfish; they will look for their own good before thinking about anyone else. Of course, there are saints but they are the outliers, not the norm. Incentivize the human being, he will work. The first lesson of economics, got my brain rolling. 

The government and the corporates are made of human beings. The very same human beings. The government-run industries did not succeed because there was no incentive for human beings in those industries to be the best. While those in the private sector flourished because they have to be at their best to survive. The market competition made human beings in the corporates to give their best. Thus socialism, with state-run production and service industries can never be as efficient as the best-run market based private entity. 

But can we do away with government and its regulations then? Well, that is for another blog! 

Has COVID widened the gap?

The virus does not discriminate said, my friend. or does it? My curious mind started the debate within.

Surely the virus does not discriminate, but is the pandemic partial? Are the poor, people from the lower caste and class affected more than the rich? Does the wedge between the have's and have-not's become bigger by the day after COVID-19 lockdown? And the bigger question, have our cultural and religious differences been magnified by this tragedy?

So I thought of examining these questions with simple examples.

Me, the quintessential upper-middle-class boy from among the bigger cities in the world. How has it affected me? Almost nothing, but for the mental trauma of sitting through the day inside closed rooms. My salary has not been affected at all; I still have my house close to the beach and my life is as peaceful as it had always been. Right behind my house is a small slum. An area of people living along a small rivulet of the Adyar. The Indian city version of a rivulet! So the people there have lost their business, for the markets are closed. They have lost money, many I heard go to bed with a single meal a day; Most people would have used up all their savings if at all they managed to have some. Will their lives ever come back to normal again? In this story, have our lives trod different paths? Ain't the gap widening?

Did you hear the story of the many migrants walking hundreds of kilometres, many even falling dead? You can't miss such stories, can you? But did you also hear that the GOI arranged flights to pick people up from across the oceans?  No, I'm all for picking people up and dropping them in their respective places; but why not do that to the migrants as well? Ah, their lives matter less than those living abroad, ain't it?

I wish some NEWS to be false, but they are on your face every day that you hardly can miss them. The NEWS of people from one religion being vilified, the sad reality of them not even given admissions in hospitals. Oh yes, there were children found to be eating grass and guess what, they belonged to the most backward community. Has the pandemic even dug deep our gaping wide cultural holes of caste and religion?

When it is cloudy and dark, sadly my society disintegrates instead of coming together; For we don't want them together when the sun is out and the skies are clear and blue.

What if your people have different ideologies?

This friend pinged me crying bored! I'm bored sam; can't even watch TV. "My entire family is watching Zee TV and ABP news through the day and I can't bear them and their ideologies", said she.

"What do you do sam, if your entire family has a completely different ideology from you? What do you do? They blame my one year stint in the western world for my liberal views. Oh, you have been brainwashed by them; Ain't good for you, and on and on and on"! You get the drift right? That your people, the family you live with, the friends you go out with, the neighbours with whom you share food with, or even the modern-day relationships on Facebook and Twitter have all different viewpoints; rather they sometimes abhor you and your thinking for they were poles apart.

Have you guys felt the same? I have often felt it. Have often fought and rebelled!

What do you do? Do you fight? or just keep going, acting unawares? Or just let it be, they are just ideologies; Why does it matter so much? After all, they are your people; ideologies cannot be coming in between relationships, can they?

Of course in an ideal world, ideologies or viewpoints cannot and should not be relationship breakers; But is it really possible in this day and age of rampant media where dividing people is the order of the day and they intentionally want you to be divided. Is it even possible to brush these differences aside? I mean, I for one cannot carry on my relationship with a rabid Islamophobe, rather someone who divides people rabidly on the basis of any religion for that matter.  I personally cannot tolerate anyone talking casteism. I better stay away from the arrogant 'I'm the superior' caste or the 'they are the Dalit' discourse'.

The complexity of the modern-day relationships!

Well, I don't have answers. I guess it is for each individual to decide where and how do we draw the line between our emotional ideas and the quality of the relationship.  Maybe some relationships are not worth the debate, and maybe some debates are not worth losing a relationship! 

In search of his identity!

His beautiful girlfriend invited him to her sister's wedding. "I am inviting only you", said she. 'Only You',  Those words fell on his ears like a love song. Off he went. The first time of meeting her family.  Nervousness! Excitement! He imagined her in a saree.......

He was locked up in a room, beaten badly. Peed on! Before he realized what had hit him, his life was torn in front of his eyes. 

What happened in between? Why did that happen? 

This young boy was made to realize he is from a caste considered lower. Suddenly he is realizing that the world does not see him as an equal. He looks around to see, his world to be very different from the world his girlfriend lives. Who am I? He asks himself. Who am I? 

Why am I, getting beaten behind closed doors? 

Why even the gods do not let me near him? 

Why even the men who laugh with me hate me? 

Why do more of my people get killed in the railway tracks? 

Why do more of my men suicide? 

Why have I never got into the temple cars? 

Why am I given separate glasses in tea shops? 

Why is my house always in the peripheries of the village? 

Why only my men die under sanitation pits?
Why? Oh, Why? Why? 

As the news came of the six young children from the Musahar community eating grass as food in the prime ministers' own constituency, I went back to watch the movie 'Pariyerum Perumal', which is the story I had just narrated! 

I tried to put myself in his shoes, but I could not understand his question. "Who am I?" did not resonate with me since I was never repressed. So I change my question. "Why only them?" In a country as big and as poor and as chaotic as my country is, why only the Musahar, the mahadalit community children, had to eat grass to survive. Of course, they are the poorest of the poor; But why? Why do they end up the poorest always?

As he went in search of his identity, it is important, I and my country ask the question, Why only them? Or why more of them?

Corona and empathy!

Suddenly every Tom, Dick and Harry has become the doctor; including yours truly. In a family where the father, mother, wife, brother, sister, MIL, FIL, SIL are all medical doctors, I'm almost the loudest doctor at home. From telling what my dad has to do, to tell what my aunt's friends have to do, the fake doctor in me had been quite vocal.

It is so easy to speak out loud if you don't know anything about the virus you see. But then you have to read more to talk loud. At least louder than your coterie of docs to be heard and taken seriously. That makes it mandatory to read more than them. So I was reading and listening to Dr JP Mulliel, widely regarded as India's leading epidemiologist and Christian Medical College's former head of community medicine. He said something which came out of the blue and I want to discuss them here

He said,  "Treat the Corona patients with compassion, there is a good chance that you might be one too"; This hit me hard!

Yesterday a friend pinged me on how her society in Kolkata refused her entry after she had come home from Mumbai to work from home; There was another friend who had come back from Paris and was refused entry though he promised quarantine. There were reports of doctors not let into the flats fearing transmission; This, after we supposedly clapped our hands to appreciate them the day before! Do you remember the news of the suffering the Air India crew had to go through to enter their own homes? And the usual hatred against the North East brethren, Coz they look like the Chinese?

It is tough to be ostracised from your own society. Mentally disturbing to be sent off by your own people. Where will they go, if not to their own houses? The mental trauma of it all is real.

Dear India, Of course, the virus spreads. Truly we have to be careful about our proximity to our neighbours. But social distancing never meant social ostracising. Everyone in the country has to live; and can surely live at a safe distance from each other.

Empathise with the patient! For you might be the next. Empathise with your neighbour for you are human. 

The real India's fight against Corona!

So I started my first day of Work From Home (WFM)! An emergency meeting in the morning, then some work, then one in the afternoon, and the one where I had to present in the evening and then some more presentations made! Not a bad day, I told myself. Not a bad day! I not only managed to distance myself from the outside world but also did some useful work. Then I came out to see my buzzing city from the balcony. Chennai has not yet stopped! Ah, Chennai, you should stop! You cannot afford this, I murmured. Social distancing is a must I say; We should be more responsible, continued my monologue.

Bang, it hit me! As if somebody had thrown a stone on my mind, it hit hard. The privilege of the so-called social distancing. Basically, of work from home!

The other day my brother overheard the Uber driver telling another that he has not got one trip that day, and if he does not manage to get a trip, he will not have food on the table. So, social distancing is a joke for him; For he had to drive to live, sadly!

How do you tell the man I met in the Reang tribal village bordering Mizoram and Tripura about Corona? And the importance of work from home and staying away from people? For a start, his house had 15 people and they all lived together in that single shed they called home! What if one of them catches a virus? How do I tell him to transport the patient to the nearest hospital, 100 Kms from his place? what if he harps back, "if I go with the patient, who will pay me my daily wage for the day? " What if the patient is the sole breadwinner of the family?

A few days ago as I went walking along the Marina beach in the early morning, there were hundreds of people sleeping there! Thousands every day sleep on the beach sand. On the pavements!  Below the bridges, on railway platforms, on empty railroads, along the sewage canals, every damn place. Do I talk to them about social distancing? Society and its community is sadly their only solace!

Social distancing sadly is a privilege of the rich!

Of course, I am working from home till the corona is done away with! And try to protect me and my ilk from the dreaded virus. But with the realisation, that privilege is what is protecting me and not social distancing!

The CAA - NRC protest

This has been on my mind in the last five days. Through the stupid sickness which has put me through difficulties, the mind has always been on this.

"I'm not safe in this country anymore, I do not know whether my friends will be Indians, I do not know anything in this country", this voice of the young Jamia girl crying is repeating in my mind again and again and again. 

I have read, re-read every available article on this! Though I'm completely against this government,  have listened to their side of the stories too. I even sincerely listened to H. Raja, Adv. Sai Deepak and a few of their other intellectuals as well. Not to say, last night I even had dreams on this.

May be it is time I take my mind off this before it starts affecting my mental health. I seriously don't know whether it is even right to be thinking along these lines, when the country I so love is bleeding. Alright, I will leave my rant for another day. Will come straight to the point now. 

I'm not here to explain in detail again why I believe CAA in itself is discriminatory and put it along with the NRC it is really dangerous. Also not here to explain why they have to be seen together and the Home minister of the country has said umpteen times that they are to be seen together with or without the nitty gritty of the law. 

But, I'm here to talk about a thing called 'State capacity'. Now that the NRC exercise is done in Assam, with 19 lakh people have been said to not have documents to prove citizenship. So these 19 lakh people went from pillar to post to get whatever documents they could and yet could not convince the officials on the veracity of the documents. What next for them? They go for an appeal says the government. So they appeal in the high court and then to the supreme court. So 19 lakh more cases on the already burdened courts. How do you even monitor the 19 lakh people now? Even if one case is adjudged in a day it will take 14 years to finish off all the cases. 

Alright, let us imagine the worst case scenario that all 19 lakhs are proven by the courts to be foreigners, Bangladesh is not going to take them back. So we have to keep them in concentration centres. As coldly as it may sound, how are we going to build concentration centres to hold 19 lakh people and how much are we going to spend on building them. The biggest jail in India, the Tihar jail holds 11000 odd inmates though it was built to hold 5000 inmates. So are we going to build 172 jails of the size of Tihar in Assam alone? Tihar is 400 acres big! So are we going to build 70,000 acre worth of concentration centres and jails? Never forget, this is just in the Assam, and we have 29 more states. 

Okay! So now that we have built so much more jails and every illegal immigrant is put in, what next? Who will guard them? Who will fund their food? Or do we plan to let them rot to die? 

Okay, let me calm down a bit. Not go overboard. Let us just imagine the NRC is passed by the government and in the best case scenario asks every citizen to go to a government official to prove his citizenship using any document he has. Though the home minister has categorically said even voter ID and Aadhar should not be used, I will give benefit of doubt to him. Let us assume, we are told any document is fine. We just have to show it to them officials concerned. 

We are 133 crore Indians now. Since Assam is already done, we are 130 crore more people to finish off the process.Let us imagine there are 1,00,000 govt officials given entirely to do this process. They are very efficient and each person finishing off the work of 20 people every day working 10 hours a day. It will take almost a year for everybody to finish off the process! By that time India will add another 1.5 crore more people. 

Of course we should take into account the amount of money spent by the state on this process. Some reports say it will be approximately 55000 crores. This is without the amount of money and time spent by the people of the country in running around to prove citizenship. 

As somebody who loved policy making and want to study public policy at some point in life, a government which has not thought through the STATE CAPACITY to implement a law has no right to pass the law in the first place. 

As I was about to sleep yesterday night, one picture came haunting by! One beggar was sifting through shoes left by people as they ran helter- skelter during yesterday's police lathi charge in the protests in Delhi. That my dear people is this country. He does not care one bit about citizenship! All he cares for is shoes to protect himself from the cold of the night. 

When democracy laughs at you!

Dear people of India, I'm sorry, but you are all fools. Yes, you! You, you and you! Every single one of you. Of course, those who supported the congress against Hindutva. Oh yes bakth, even you! You who thought BJP and their coterie will save you.

Do you know what does democracy do to you? Laugh! That is what you are; Jokers! Who are to be laughed at.

Fools or Jokers? Well, does it make a difference? Maybe fools and jokers. Do you remember that man in the circus of yesteryears? Who made foolish things to be laughed at? You remember him, don't you? With green hair, rainbow-coloured baggy pants, a pink nose, and an irritating walk. That man is you! In the circus of democracy, the clown is who you are.

So BJP joins hands with the Naturally Corrupt Party (NCP). No, I did not name it! Modiji did. You jokers, who thought BJP will wipe away corruption from the face of the earth, take that! Modiji will join hands with who according to him is the most corrupt person and wipe away corruption! Well, Modiji is mocking at you! He laughs, and he laughs till his guts hurt. oh, the funny joker! Woe unto you.

Well, others who supported congress, coz, the congress is against Hindutva and the politics of hatred, did you forget that the Shivsena was almost the epitome of the politics which you repudiate? But going along with Shivsena is okay, ain't it? Ah, did you see the glint in the eyes of Uddhav Thackeray? That was him laughing at you, poor you!

Even as I write the laughing continues and it will continue since you and I don't have a choice but to dance; dance to the tune of democracy. A democracy which will forever laugh at your dance! 

The Scam the governments are!

So Indian government is planning a new parliament and a central secretariat building! "The new building will symbolize new India's aspirations", quipped Biman Patel, whose architectural firm has been given the job of designing the new buildings. Do you know that they designed the Sabarmati river front, the BJP head quarters as well? No! No! I'm not smelling anything here. Just putting out facts! Yet that is for another day.

So the total cost for the design stage is a measly 229.75 crores! A humongous 3% of the overall budget allocated for the project. Are you bad at math? I will do the calculation for you. Just 7500 crores approximately is the total money going to be spent on the new buildings. So the parliamentarians could sit nicely and debate. Of course they walk out often coz there is not much space there to sit now.

Just to put things in perspective, the central government spends around 7400 crores on policing Delhi every year. Do you know the new health insurance scheme of the prime minister? It includes 100 million families! The scheme is allotted 6400 crores last year. Just in case you did not know, the Indian government gave Rs.400 crores to build 'world class institutions' this year.

So how does it matter? For you and for me?

I was not working for a year and so did not pay any tax. So do I have the right to complain? Well, let me just put out facts for the learned working middle class who end up reading me rather than complain.

Most of you paid 20% of your salary to the government of India! So basically, 20% of your time spent in your offices is for the GOI. So you actually worked the entire months of January, February and a few days of March without getting any payment for that.

Well, all of you who worked hard for nearly two and half months without getting a pay for, you would have been called slaves in the yesteryear. We are called tax payers in the modern world. And what did you slave this year for? For the parliamentarians to sit in aspirational new India's  modern building and debate! I promise they won't walk out anymore. They will have enough place to stay back after all! 

The toxicity of our political discourse

Two incidents that happened in the last week clearly showed what is wrong with my country! One which happened in Tamil Nadu. One in the place I live now, in Brighton, UK.

Last week a group of civil service aspirants from the Central University of Tamil Nadu (CUTN), Thiruvarur had planned a discussion on the Kashmir issue, the abrogation of article 370 and 35A. The Vice-chancellor of the university sent out individual memoranda to the 30 odd students who allegedly participated in the discussion. Well, the memoranda said, 'anybody or group of persons who indulge in activities which is a threat to the security and integrity of India will not be tolerated' and such activity will lead to dismissal from the university followed by criminal action under IPC'.

Yesterday I got an email from a friend from university. She is organising a discussion on the Kashmir issue. The University has been kind enough in arranging two eminent speakers on this, one from India and one from Pakistan. Both social scientists, who have studied policy processes and political participation all their lives.

I'm sure the discussion will be thought-provoking. I'm sure it will be analysed from every angle possible. There will surely be questions and debates coming from both sides of the spectrum. Of course, there will be a historical narrative being presented. At the end of it all, we will come back as better people, with a better understanding of the situation, the processes and the politics of it all.

So, you may say, that this is being done since the country has no stake in it. But even Brexit was analysed threadbare in events like these.

Politics and policies should be discussed in academia. Well informed scholars who have the studied the subject should lead debates at the university campuses. If academia does not contribute, then WhatsApp universities, paid & biased journalists, riled-up politicians will fill-up the vacuum. That, unfortunately, is the tragedy of our times.

Toxic political discourse is the bane of this generation, and excluding academia from politics might well be the reason for it. 

Independence from hatred!

On the 14th of August 1947, Mahatma Gandhi was in Calcutta, where he and one of his bitterest critics, Muslim league leader Huseyn Suhrawardy, were together trying to ensure that the communal riots of 1946 would not be repeated again. 

"At the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and freedom. A moment comes, which comes but rarely in history, when we step out from the old to the new, when an age ends, and when the soul of a nation, long suppressed, finds utterance", as the first prime minister was uttering these immortal words, a journalist thrust his mike on Gandhi. 

Do you miss being in Delhi now? he asked the great man. The man had just won over the greatest power planet earth had seen till now, without taking a gun. 

"Others may sing of the wine and the wealth and the mirth,

The Portly presence and potentates goodly in girth;

Mine be the dirt and the dross, the dust and scum of the earth! 

Theirs be the music, the colour, the glory, the gold;

Mine be a handful of ashes, a mouthful of mould.

Of the maimed, of the halt and the blind in the rain and the cold - 

Of these shall my songs be fashioned, my tales be told.

Gandhi quoted John Masefield's 'Consecration'! 

When yet again India wakes up to another day to remember the day of independence, I remember the words of the great man again and fashion my song on his. 

My song will be on Kashmir and its people, for their true freedom; The innumerable Dalits and the tribals and the battle for their rights; the minorities and their peace; 

For my country is maimed and halt and blind, in the rain and the cold of hatred; 

The War and its history!

My history book in school was replete with war heroes. 'Alexander the Great', conquered the world, I studied. 'Napolean' the French emperor who led France through many victories and conquered many parts of Europe was celebrated. We were taught resilience and never say die attitude from the hero Ghazni Mohammed. I was ten years old when the Kargil war was fought. The bare minimal memory of those days was celebrating victory in a war. We had won! The enemy was conquered, hurray!

The movie Lakshya on Kargil which I watched with so much passion never showed the lives of the many soldiers who died along the way; on the way to capturing the highest point of 'Nowhere in particular'.

I celebrated the movie. Loved it to bits. Had goosebumps when Hrithik Roshan limped to the peak and planted the Indian flag on the cliff. On that unlivable cliff!

Wars, the bloodiest wars of history had always been portrayed as the fiefdoms of courage and valour. Yet, there is another side to it. The sadder side! Strangely, war never meant destruction. No, never we learnt about the number of people Gazni killed in his conquests. Whatever happened to their families? Did they manage to rebuild the damaged houses? What happened to the widow? Did she end up living all her life wearing the sad white sarees? Were they thrown in the funeral pyre of the martyred husbands? What about the children? Did the scar of losing dads ever go away? Did they harbour the hurt of their loved ones getting killed all their lives? Ah! The sadness of war. That gory face which was never shown in our history books.

The history books were written by the Winners, said, my friend! Well, didn't the winner lose anything? Of course, India supposedly won the Kargil war. And what did we get out of it? The pride of keeping the national flag on the snowy ice-clad mountain where mankind can never live. Maybe a few goosebumps and for sure some respect among the other nations! All of these are important. Very important; but did we count the cost? The lives of many soldiers. The devastated families. Orphaned children and widowed women. Will the Paramvir chakra ever give them their lives?

Warmongering people, Count the cost! Wars can never be profitable. Not even for the winners. For there are no winners in a war.

War histories were not written by winners! History books were written by those who lost lesser comparatively.