2009, The year that was

The last year of this decade passes by and gives way to 2010. I tried to put together a small mélange of stirring events that occurred in 2009.

It was the year that a certain Mr. Barack Obama became President Barack Obama, who then became President Barack Obama N.L (Nobel Laureate); the year that one man dared to hope in change and dared to share his hope with millions of other people; the year that he tore down the shabby veil of political bigotry and apartheid that allowed a nation to send men to the moon, but restricted it from raising a man of colored origin to its highest seat. It was the year of change. Change brought about by vision and hard work; change that made Obama a household name and a hero of multitudes internationally.

Speaking of heroes, this past year gave us quite a few to remember. Heroes ranging from former president of the United States Bill Clinton, who single-handedly rescued American journalists from North Korea in an almost James-Bondesque fashion, to the doctors in India, who perform miracles almost every day of their lives. Unsung heroes like your neighborhood fireman and your mother who works 3 shifts so that you can eat better.

This was a year of losses. What greater loss than that of the greatest performer ever – Michael Jackson. People in my generation will remember that he uplifted us every day of our life. He gave us his music and he gave us his moves so that we may forget our sorrows and celebrate our joys. Among the more significant losses to USA, and specifically to the state of Massachusetts, was that of Senator Ted Kennedy, one of the greatest politicians and humanitarians of his time, who left behind a political and social void.

Death hunted in various forms – The Sri Lankan civil war was just one of those forms. Thousands of ethnic Sinhalese and Tamils lost their lives. This war eventually led to the military defeat of the LTTE and the demise of their chief Prabhakaran.

The H1N1 influenza strain, more commonly known as Swine Flu, became a true global pandemic and claimed hundreds of lives worldwide. Hundreds of Indians died because of this disease, and hundreds more are still susceptible to infection.

This was the year of Twitter. Thousands of people around the world chose to express themselves in the stipulated 140 characters or less. The most significant use of the Twitter network was in the organization of the anti-Ahmadinejad protests in Iran. Many celebrities used Twitter to log their lives for their followers. India’s own MoS (External Affairs) Shashi Tharoor got into more than a few spots of bother because of his Twittering ways.

It was the year that terror struck out at Cricket. Sports was hitherto relatively untouched by terrorism, but this time they crossed the line. Gunmen attacked Sri Lankan cricketers in Lahore, Pakistan and injured several cricketers. Speaking of cricket, it was also the year that the Indian cricket team finished at the top of the Test cricket list.

Horizontally Yours - The saas bahu saga

The eternal battle between saas and bahu does not have its roots in the teary bunkum that soaps love to wallow in. Its true base lies in something else - a connectere (connection.) We know that when we connect one object with another, there is a fusing of the two, either reversible or irreversible. Human binding is similar, and the strongest connections are those that have a physical base. Needless to say, this is the true reason for the squabbles between saas and bahu - A horizontal connection.

The mother-son relationship starts much before the son exists as a physically independent entity. It starts in the womb of the mother, where the mother and son are connected by the umbilical cord. This is a horizontal connection between the navels of the mother and son. Contrary to our understanding of the cord (mainly because its ugly countenance) , its potential significance in psychology is great. It is the first bond the son makes, and the bond that he learns to survive on. The connection delivers oxygen and nutrients, two things that the fetus desperately needs to survive. There is an exchange of body fluids. This is a unique bond that the mother makes. It is the only time another living being depends solely on her for survival. Everything she eats, drinks, breathes, does, and thinks affects the fetus inside her. She ensures the survival of another life inside her, and the umbilical cord insures it. This builds the foundation for intense bonds that develop between mothers and sons.

Cut to the bond that man and wife share - Some would argue, an equally strong bond, it has its basis in the same horizontal connection. It is the connection that man and woman share during the act of sex - When the phallus forms a connection with the cervix. Let us for once subtract the erotic connotation of sex and see the act for what it is. This, apart from the mother-son bond, is the only true physical bond where two human entities become one. It is a sign of extreme trust - both individuals allow an incursion into their most private zones. There is an all-consuming passion that drives this act. Like with the umbilical cord, there is exchange of body fluids. Survival does not depend on it, in a literal sense. However, I'm given to understand that the passion involved can be so great that it can make you feel on the edge of life itself! The abstracted strength of this bond is the potential in it to create new life. This is an enormous power - one known clearly to both individuals. Another reason for the strength of this bond is the hidden urge to recreate the physical bond felt between mother and son. As adults we do not know what the fetus must have felt. However, I believe that it has something to do with security. It is this that we unknowingly try to recreate during copulation - The overpowering feeling of safety when the man is physically enveloped by his wife.

Thus we have two bonds - One is the natal bond between man and mother, the other is the sexual bond between man and wife. The mother considers this new bond to be a replacement for her original bond; the wife considers the original bond to be a psychological vestige interfering with her bond.

Whichever way you look at it, these are the two most significant and emotional bonds a man is ever going to have. It is essential that he give each its place. It is equally important that both mother and wife look at roles they played before/will play in the future. After all, saas bhi kabhi bahu thi.

There'll be no more pain

A sprightly dash of yellow and green
Fills the charming meadow
The sun weaves a golden mesh
And life does it endow

The bees fritter from base to base
Working their task at hand
While the birds soar up high above
On a wave from the magical wand

So much laughter so much joy
The children come down to play
Among the flowers and down-like grass
Their tired bodies they lay

But grown-ups don’t like what they see
“Our children will just while away
It is imperative, to shackle them down,
This indulgent meadow must we flay”

Then they come with sickles and hoes
And rip the meadow asunder
The soft grass bleeds till it’s no more
And I stop to wonder

“What is with grown-ups and good things?
How can happiness bring them pain?
Why would they wreck havoc on innocence?
And treat me with disdain?”

I will stop the joy pouring out of the sky
I will stop satisfaction peering from the ground
I will bring in the rank evil thistles
To grow in their gardens and around

To those who punctured me and laughed as I bled,
I always loved you and was in good faith
But you did me wrong…oh so wrong
So now brace up to face my wraith

I can hear screams of my antagonists
But mercy I cannot bestow
I must purge my lap of their abundance
And wipe their sweat off my brow

Then I’ll bring back the smiling flowers
And the bees can work again
The children can play sans inhibition
And there’ll be no more pain

Race of the Races

Through the hullabaloo made by hordes of antiracism activists, much as we deny, we can discern some facts that open our eyes to a whole new world of racial criticism. All the glib talk about racial equality is good for the tympanic membrane and the psyche because it is what “educated” and “civilized” people like us want to hear. This is what allows us to make statements to the rest of the world and hold an anthropological view of social scenarios. What most of us fail to realize while being lost in the hazy mist of pseudo-social commitments is that thinking of the “white man” as superior to the rest of the “coloured world” may actually be a sensible idea.

For those of you who are going to tear this article from this paragraph on, I have just one thing to say – Wisdom might come with revelation – please read it till the last period mark and then tear it off...or then maybe you won’t.

The white man came, the white man saw, the white man conquered. History is a racist tale of how the lighter skinned people sailed around the world and made it their playground...the Mongols being the only notable exception (but they weren’t exactly dark skinned either!) If they were not superior to the others like us then maybe we would have gone on a world conquest! Okay, at least we would have been able to defend ourselves against their ravages. “We had far more advanced astrology” or “Our science of medicine made theirs look obsolete”, are no arguments against the fact that the white man delivered when he was required to (if I might say so).


For God’s sake, why does it take so long for us to understand that the white men were born to rule and we (shades ranging from mahogany to ebony) were born to slave it out. Freedom, in short, is not our cup of tea. The reason is very simple - Might is right! With might comes power and respect. Even today, most brilliant youngsters from India and her neighbors run to western arms. You may try to justify – “they have more money, more resources…” I ask, “How?” and you say, “after all they looted rich countries like us and th…” My point exactly! We started at the same commencement point and now in the year 2002, we almost resemble human beings, WOW! The baseness is still there…but it will do!

I am of the staunch opinion that we do not deserve to be free. This is because we have not grown up to it. I agree that countries like India and South Africa fought argued hard for their freedom. What did we do when the white man finally condescended and gave us the freedom that we requested for? We just fought amongst ourselves. What have these countries achieved till date except world ridicule for religious and ethnic strifes? India is a nuclear power and a leader of the third world countries…Blah! Blah! Blah...So what? Can she protect her citizens from the ravages of everyday militancy? Can she ensure education for all her children? Can she guarantee food and social security to all who are proud to call themselves her children and if necessary die for her sake? Most importantly, can she give all her children an equal status? Is it a small matter that even to this day, Indians are third class international citizens? Why international? Indians below the poverty line are third class Indian citizens! The tag of ‘developing nation’ looks good on paper but who wants to see the ‘underdeveloped’ invective thrust on our faces every time we face the international community. The only interest common westerners show in us is for the cows that roam the main roads and the Kamasutra – both unheard of in their countries (not a very great achievement, if you ask me).

Some statistically oriented optimists reason out that India’s miniscule progress can be attributed to a very large population and the subsequent illiteracy. “After all how is the poor government going to educate so many people? You must also keep in mind India’s financial status.” I just have one thing to tell them – Take a close look at China.

If the erstwhile record holder for the largest population (thanks to the big family lovers in India) can progress so much, why can’t we? China’s literacy rate is also poor. It also has an agricultural backbone (dependent on rain and other excuses…). How, then, are they managing to strengthen their economy and make the global leaders envious, when we look up to the World Bank for loans? The answer is again the same. It is ingrained in us. “A little begging didn’t kill no one”, said Harry Jones, a beggar of international standing and Afro-Indian parentage. We are very happy living on someone else’s ‘aid’. We gladly eat the oatmeal that the white man’s cattle refuse (small wonder then about the ‘dogs and Indians…’ slur). In other words, industrious is an adjective you cannot use for 95% of us in India.

A simple step taken in the direction of development and self sufficiency is a large one in the direction of humanity. In India the roads that were built during the times of the British are the ones in the best state. The ‘beautiful’ roads built by ‘our own free hands’ now have worse craters than the surface of the moon itself. People had to pay very little bribe then (because there were very few Indian officials near the top). Antisocials were not taken to a legalized government resort and fed on the money of the poor masses. Many people will disagree with me and say, “We may have our flaws, so what - we are free. Freedom means more to us th…”.I rest my case. We are still resting on the laurels of our recently won freedom (read 50 years back) and have not proved ourselves anywhere but in the wrong directions. This is a huge weakness, a sense of nonchalance and irresponsibility towards the community we live in. This weakness makes us lesser human beings – racially inferior.

Slavery is much more than black history. It is in the psyche. If you observe foreign tourists (from the West not from Bangladesh please!) walking down a road in Calcutta or a beach in Mumbai you will find many obliging Indians gawking at them as if they were some celestial bodies. What happened? Are they made of some other element? These questions are answered by more dumb gawks. If a foreigner comes to work in an Indian firm, we think that he is an amalgamation of Einstein and C.F.Andrews. “Oh! Look at this great man…he has vouchsafed to work with us.” This is followed by many synonyms of the word ‘gracious’. Look at the other situation where an Indian goes to work in the ‘white man’s land’. The poor chap is going to receive all kinds of insults and verbal abrasions…and I am not talking about the situation 50 years ago. This is one of those undocumented facts whose revelation is not good for the public image of the country. The mentality of us people change when we see some white skin. The servile nature of us Indians oozes from every pore in our skin.

It is not the 300 odd years of slavery that made us like this… we were created like this – to serve and never to ask why! Some of our more deserving compatriots (born on the wrong side of the world) asked why and we were gifted with something we could not handle- Freedom. “What is wrong with us? “, is probably not such a bad question at this juncture. Is it that we are less intelligent or physically less able…what is it? The only plausible reason amongst the millions of “we are a peace loving people exploited by the west…” statements is that we are second best because we want to remain that way. Who ever told you that every man is equal is certainly a benevolent white or an overconfident, incorrigible, ‘liberated’ coloured man. But in both cases they were lying. Racial equality looks good in social study text books but when it is not a practical trend then why try and believe in it? It will only take us deeper into the chasm of white lies (all puns intended).

Note: This post is not to undermine any race or hurt any sentiments. It is an honest-to-God thought that I had as a teenager. Although it shows a particular race in superior light, it is said in a lighter vein. It, and by corollary, I, are completely against racism and racial bias.

All Out of Love

It is a lovely winter morning. The fog is quite dense and she looks through her window at the white expanse in love. She loves the icy touch of harsh winter. Did I say harsh? Oh yes, I forget to mention that the winter is harsh in this part of the country. She walks over to the refrigerator and pulls out a frozen quarter pizza and leaves it on the table. After a shower, she gorges on the pizza slice and some cold milk.
Her mind starts to wander at the table. All these years had passed by and she was living alone - Happily.
The wind is blowing into the room and the temperature is dipping furiously.
Where did her thoughts get off…ah! People always thought that she was far from normal. I guess she knew that herself. She was in love…with love. Her love story is a saga in itself. She muses for what seems like an hour. Then the thought of going to work strikes her and she slowly gets her bag.
The bus stop is a short walk from where she lives…her ‘home’.
A cold tune blows into her ears from all around and she absorbs it with love. She can smell love even in the cold air. After a largely uneventful walk, she reaches the bus stop and takes a seat to wait for the bus.
That’s where I come in. I, contrary to my social traditions, usually go out on cold mornings like this. In fact, I love cold mornings as much as she does. I see her from a distance and move towards her in what seems to be a trance. I move fast and close the distance between us. I love the feel of the ground below my feet and the snippy dusty air around me. I am full of love for everything around me.
She sees me when I am about one foot from her. Her expressionless face looks through me in a cold kind of way. I love that look. The look that makes my inspiration run high…the look that makes me make others love me.
She fixes her gaze on me and twitches her eyebrow as if she pities my condition. I laugh to myself, and then, as if she knows my feeling, she too laughs uncontrollably. I look around to see if other early birds are watching the two of us or not. We are alone.
Her laughter has a nice rhythm…like some code. I am entranced by her loving sight and sound. I begin to dance once again…all out of love. She looks at me in a peculiar fashion and grins. There is a strange tension in the air. It is a tension that spells love.
She moves towards me with a strange light in her eyes. I also move in her direction. Soon she touches me with her palm.
She has a soft palm and it smells of her wonderful perfume…I love the sweet smell of perfume.
There is so much love in that touch of hers. I am overflowing with love and long to share it with her. I kiss her on the back of her hand and she embraces me tightly.
The cold feeling comes back again. Its taking my breath away. She is still looking at me with that strange light.
Someday I have to ask my father about that look.
She gently falls to her knees and lies down next to me. The look is still there. I feel that there is something missing from my side and shower her with kisses. She still holds me tight in her arms…all out of love.

Dec 27. Nainital.
The dead body of Dr. Anjali Mohan, a research scholar at IPWA was found near the Horticulture Garden Bus Stop. The cause of her death has been determined to be snake bite. In what seems to be a strange tale, a dead Krait was found entangled in the grip of Dr. Mohan. This enormously poisonous snake had bitten Dr. Mohan eleven times…ten times after she died. The funeral will be conducted at 5:30 P.M. today.