Kobe — Won over my hatred by insane work ethic!

Mr D had just selected me to play basketball 🏀. No idea why he did what he did; I was this plumpy short kid, standing among the first few in the queue of young adults made in the ascending order of heights. For the next few years, the ball and the sound that made were the only things I knew. Kobe had just started playing NBA and was already a rock star in the first few years of his NBA sojourn

My basketball days were at its peak. I had recently been selected to represent my district. Our school team had already won the District School meet. Naturally, the NBA was all I wanted. And Kobe was this young kid, playing like a dream for the LA Lakers.

The year 2000! I loved to bits one guy called Reggie Miller. He played for my favourite Indiana pacers (Yes, you guessed it right!  They were my favourites coz their name had 'India in it). The NBA finals had Kobe pitted against Reggie. Kobe went berserk. I remember clearly getting up early mornings to watch Kobe run amok over Reggie and his pacers. My team lost. I cried!  

College happened.  Reggie retired and new sporting heroes in Vince Carter and Allen Iverson came into our lives. Kobe was at his job, still winning most valuable player awards.  Life took different turns. Basketball was relegated to newspaper articles. Kobe was often seen there as well.  When the sport was turning younger and faster, Kobe was still keeping pace with the young.

Why does he still play? Can't he just retire?  I mean, he was still making LA Lakers win and I hated it. He was competing with LeBron and his ilk and I hated him more for that. But Kobe played on. Generations came and went. Never did Kobe go anywhere. 

Then I read this story.  As narrated by R, once the physical conditioning coach for the US Olympic basketball team. And I became a fanboy. For who cannot be a fan of the irrepressible Kobe? 

It was 4.15 am when Kobe had called R and asked him to come to the gym to help him with his conditioning. R, stepped out in twenty minutes to see Kobe drenched with sweat already. Then they worked out together for a good two and a half hours and R went back to his bed tired. He had to come back to the courts at 11.00am after all. When R managed to drag himself out to the courts at 11.00 am, Kobe was there practising some sharpshooting all by himself.  R asked Kobe when did he come back to the courts! I wanted to do 800 shots and so stayed on said Kobe nonchalantly. 

Kobe, the first superstar I hated for he defeated my hero, became the rock star I loved for that insane work ethic. To stay at the top for 20 years in an incredibly tough sport like the basketball is beyond imagination. 

RIP Kobe. Too young to go, kobe!  Too young. With you, a part of my childhood died as well.   

Ambedkar, titanic and discrimination

As I stood on that stairs and looked at his name written on that wall, I could feel goosebumps; For many years ago on those same stairs had stood the man who built the foundations of my country. Nearly 130 years after his birth he is politically and socially relevant than ever before. 

Dr B R Amedkar, the man who led the drafting committee of the constitution, was born into the Mahar(Dalit) community. A few days ago, a relative of mine made a comment, those are 'Dalits' they behave like that! Ambedkar was born nearly 130 years ago when casteism was rampant. He was made to sit outside the classroom since his sitting inside would have made the class impure. The teachers did not touch his books, for maintaining purity. Oh, he was never allowed to touch the glass of water! A peon would pour water from a height for him to drink; What if the peon is absent? Ambedkar would go without water that day. 

Ah, the greatness of our culture and society we often boast about. Just that it got impure by that young kid going to school. 

From being the outcast, to go on to study at Columbia University and then at the LSE, and finally to lead the drafting committee of our constitution, leading men from the very own community which ostracised him, that man is a genius.

"No, we don't discriminate on the basis of caste! We just marry within the same caste, just in case". "We are against the caste system. We just don't marry Dalits, we don't mind marrying anybody else". People from that community always fight! People from this community deserves being treated like that. "Ah, she belongs to my caste, It is easier for me to connect with her". We have all been there and done these. All of us! Every one of us.

The very same discrimination Ambedkar fought against!

From Ambedkar's memorial, I came to the Titanic Museum. The greatest ever construction mankind had ever made. The gorgeous Titanic. You all know the story, don't you? Titanic hit the iceberg and Titanic sank. Two hours and forty minutes are all it had after hitting the iceberg. Two hours and forty minutes of saving lives. At the end of it, more than 60% of first-class passengers were saved while less than 25% of third class passengers were saved. 

Mankind! Cruel Mankind! Can you never stop discriminating even when lives are at stake?

If not casteism then classism, we are discriminatory! Yet, when we were born, naked and crying, the personhood of mankind/womankind is the same across! Nobody was created to be inferior. Nobody is inferior.

As the Titanic sank, two men brought in their dogs to the lifeboats! While others around them sank to their afterlife hoping and praying that they are not discriminated at least there!

The privileged few!

I was angry! They never knew how difficult my life is, I told myself. "I have worked bloody hard and most of it all alone, to have come to this level", I patted myself on the back. It cannot have been easy, for nobody in my family understood what it meant to be a 'non-medico' in the family. Nobody studied engineering. None quit engineering to enter the social sector. Almost none went abroad to study. And surely nobody works with the government.

Classic sulking upper-class privilege! Ah, the privileged home-bred dog complaining about not getting food on time. That was me!

Suddenly I remembered that word, 'Privilege'! Google defines it as 'having special rights, advantages or immunities. So I stopped my filthy monologue and started to write my privileges down; simply put, certain advantages I have over others, which I have not done anything to deserve.

Born to doctor parents have to be a privilege, ain't it? And surely having both of them alive and well till my twenties was too. Going to a rich private school seethes of privilege for only 25% of my country could afford them. To study in a top engineering college and to do a masters in what is considered among the world's best institutes without a student loan was a privilege too! That meant someone else had to work hard so that I study.

Did I deserve the car we had? The bed where my head rested? the bicycle I drove to the school complaining that I do not have a motorbike? The food on the table, four times a day? Well, I ate four times a day, all through school and college! Of course, I did well in my first interview to have got through to my first job but wasn't my language skills a privilege? For far better experts in the subject could not get through the interview for want of better language skills.

I often boast of quitting the high profile job to work in a remote part of the country! But how can I boast of it as my achievement for my dad helped me get the job! I did clear the initial stages of the civil service exams, for I had a room in the heartland of the capital, somebody who could teach the subject, someone to cook and someone to wash my clothes. There were surely people who had to work and cook and wash and also prepare for the exams.

The privilege of the economy, society, religion, culture, family, and of course the locality!

I can go on and on and on, on this! I will stop here. Just realising I have had special rights, advantages and immunities all along with my life, for which I had to be thankful. And surely be cognizant of the privileges.

And if you are reading this, having the internet in your personal computer, recognize your privileges and be thankful for them!

A decade of botched dreams, yet off a dreamy reality!

Do I dream big? Well, I do! I sometimes dream too big for my own comfort. The last decade (2010 - 2019) was all about dreams. I had had big dreams fall terribly short, yet I had always got up dreaming bigger!

Ten years ago as a fearless young boy, I had quit quite a high paying job in the glitter of the IT hub with a promise of a career in Europe to work in the remotest jungles of a terror hit Assam. It was one of those decisions which I will think twice before taking it now. The fearlessness of the youth I presume! But never once do I regret. For I took a wild decision hearing a voice within, and life has never been the same again.

Then another of those wild dreams!  Did I listen to that inner voice again? They have a tendency to send me on these wild goose chases.  A decision which led me to meet incredible people; an obvious life-changing decision. Those two years made me the person I'm. It gave me a sense of belonging. It gave me life's perspectives and of course a better understanding of the world around me.

Then that day happened! That day I wish had never come, not in this decade, never in my life. The day life hit rock bottom. The day when amma was diagnosed with that dreaded disease. Well, the fight after that. Fight against the disease and in fact the fight within against sinking hope. Well, defeats do end up bitter, but I ended up better. Through that struggle and dare I say the next few years were the best of the decade. To marry a rockstar and at the same time work with a dream team, is all I could have asked for.

If you grow up in a small town, you always dream big dreams. I did too! Dreams, when they become reality, which leave you with a sense of wonder and gratitude and the last year was all about that. The year finally ending up working among the better people the world can offer.

Life in the last decade was incredibly adventurous. Took me to places I had not dreamt off. Yet life was full of botched up dreams; dreams which never really took off! As I look forward to a new decade, I look forward to living new dreams, and of course, stuff out of the syllabus of life prescribed, for those I expect and those I don't together constitute the dreaminess of it all.

Happy new decade people! 

The sidewalks of the road, the peripherals of life!

As I sped past the church, I saw some rags lying on the middle of the road. I was going in a hurry and did not have much time to react. It did look different though. But then life is so fast. I flew past the pile of rags lying there.

After my work is done, I returned back and I could see the rags again, this time from quiet a distance away. As I came closer I could see a face emerging out of the filth and the mess, the pile was. It was a man lying in the middle of the road covered in a brown sack. As I went past him again, I managed to see him beg with the corner of my eye. I sped past him, but my eyes kept returning to that man. What if somebody hits him? He is sitting in the middle of the road. The inner man in me started asking the difficult questions. After a few minutes of tussle within I decided to turn back.

I decided to try and put him back to the sidewalk of the road and went up to him. He saw me coming and started asking for some money. Taking pity on him, I took out a few rupees and gave it to him. He thanked me. I turned back. But could not go. You are here to take him and put him in the side walk. Not to tip him some money. The inner man's voice again. This time a little louder. But, he was dirty and shady and ragged and naked. How do I do this? I kept questioning my wisdom to come back to him.

Gathering some courage, I went and finally told him, "Sir, can you please come to the side of the road, somebody might hit you"; He said okay and continued to sit there. I waited for a few minutes and repeated the same again. He thanked me this time and continued his begging in the same place. May be he could not move, I thought. May be his leg is stuck somewhere. The inner chaos was becoming louder. But how do I touch and lift him? Or do I ask him one more time? May be he did not understand. I gathered more courage and went to him the third time. "Sir, can you please come and sit on the sidewalks and beg. Somebody might hit you".

There was a quiet; a small pause. He turned back slowly and said, "I know it sir, but nobody gives me any money if I sit in the side walks. People look at me only if I sit in the middle of the road. Why anybody, even you saw me only coz I was sitting here ", he stung back.

What does it take for me to look at the hurt and the suffering in the sidewalks of life? Sadly, I needed them to be sitting in the middle of my life to even consider them humans.

Reminding myself that the story of Christmas was the story of the peripherals. Those on the sidewalks of life.

Merry Christmas!

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. 

The chowkidhar who sold us the lamp!

We were a joint family, and a large one at that. Uncles, aunts, sisters, brothers and cousins. One whole big mess!

Two generations ago one uncle married outside our religion. The usual fights happened. We never let the uncle in again. He settled down near us. We fight often! More often these days.

We were not very rich. But slowly yet steadily we were growing richer. Few in the family went abroad to study. A few went to other places of the world and became rich. The family field was giving way to modernity. Cows were being replaced by tractors. Some women even wore jeans. Our culture did not allow them. Though most of us complain about the tight jeans, in our innermost hearts, we do like them. Though the crops were failing and a few of my family suffered from hunger, malnutrition and poverty, there was hope. A small flicker of light at the end of the tunnel. Our salaries were growing at nearly 10% every year and slowly the light was burning brighter.

This man came selling lamps. He said his is the brightest. "This lamp can show us the light for years to come",said he. It can show us in better light, in fact he said this will make us all new. He called himself  'Chowkidar', the watchman! He said he has used his light before in one small part of the house and it had worked wonders. The large family we are, could not really concentrate on every small bits of our house. What was the relation between a chowkidar and a lamp? I know you have that doubt! We did not ask him either. Neither did he answer. He had a white beard and we don't question people with white beards generally.

So he started guarding the gate! Five years since he came selling that lamp. Was it six? It almost feels like forever!

Suddenly he said the money we were using to live were all black in colour and should be banned. Black money? But not everybody has the same colour money. Why do I lose my money?  I protested! Listen to the chowkidhar; he knows better, said the big family. The feeble protest fell on deaf ears and all the black money vanished. But they are still found, I protested again; Shhhhhh!!! It vanished said the chowkidhar, don't question his wisdom, they told me. I shut up.

Suddenly we realized our salaries are not growing as much as it used to! The genie in the lamp he showed is not out yet. Wait for a few more years, the genie will be out soon and then we will see the good days, the chowkidhar said. But, we were already having pretty decent days sir; Of course the old chowkidhar slept in the night and a few robbers stole our money. But we were never this poor, a few of us fought. But he is fair. Fair skinned people never lie, said my extended family. I had to nod.

Few months ago the chowkidhar said that for the northern part of the house to shine brighter, they have to switch off the internet and shut people down for a few months. The northern part had always been a problem. May be this is the solution, we thought. Not many in the family liked the northern part of the house anyways. You remember that old uncle? They say the northern part of the family stay in touch with them.

Now the chowkidhar brought in a new man! His deputy. This man also had a beard. Well, you know what we do with bearded men, don't you? This new man is full of josh. Sometimes very rustic. He looks like the Bollywood villain. But most of our heroes in movies were villains once. Remember Rajnikanth?

He now wants all of us to register in a notebook. He wants proof of us living in our house.Not many of us can prove our allegiance to the house, some in the family protested. The poor in the family never had any document to prove they belong, was their contention. But what if a few from that old uncle's family remain inside the house, says he! They are taking your work; And that is the reason why your money is not growing as much as it used to. But, what if a few of our own family members don't have proof, asked the some who are fighting?

What if they don't have proof? Good question!

I told you this man had a lot more josh. He came up with this brilliant idea.  All the family members belonging to different religions, let them be given a free entry into the house. But all those from the Uncle's religion, we will not allow. The chowkidhar and his deputy were happy! Simple ain't it? The uncle's religion not allowed; All others allowed without even registering.

Did I tell you that our family had members practicing all sorts of faith? Including that Uncle's faith? So what happens if my family member, who has lived here for many years, practicing Uncle's faith, cannot prove his allegiance to the house? The smartest family member asked. He will be sent to the Uncle's house, simple, said the deputy! But what if the uncle does not include him as well? Then we will build jails and put them in. Then, we won't have any problem with them. But we never had any problem with them before also no, deputy? The smart ass protested. The deputy never listened.

The family which had survived the pettiest of fights is breaking into pieces. For it appointed a man who was selling a lamp as the chowkidhar. I wish we had known then, that men selling lamps don't make good chowkidhars!

But why do we need a chowkidhar in the first place?