Wednesday, August 19, 2015

My search for a BBMP office to get a death certificate

This morning, it took me a good one hour to locate the corporation (Bruhat Bengaluru Mahanagara Palike, or BBMP) office in Ulsoor, from where I had to get my mother's death certificate. But little did I realise that there was a pleasant surprise awaiting me.

I knew a BBMP office in Ulsoor. When I reached there, I didn't find the usual crowd, apparently because of the council elections, coming up on August 22. But on the first floor, where the office is, I found an elderly employee.

"No, we don't issue certificate. You have to check with the post office down," he told me firmly.

But, post office? I cross-checked with him. "Yes, post office, in the ground floor," he repeated quite calmly. So, I went down. But, I didn't have the guts to ask someone selling stamps and envelops where could I get a death certificate.

There was a man sitting on the steps at the entrance to the post office. Could be a localite, so I asked him if there was a BBMP office anywhere else nearby where I could get a death certificate. He said the BBMP office upstairs issues only ration cards, and the one in the Utility Building on MG Road issues birth and death certificates.

I headed there, not too far. May be about three or four km away. After looking around and asking a few people, I located the kiosk. There was a board 'birth and death certificates'. When I showed the documents to the gentleman there, he had a good look at it, and said, I had to go to Ulsoor.

I said I did go to the Ulsoor office, and that they had told me they don't issue death certificates. He looked a little puzzled. Then, I asked him if there was more than one office in Ulsoor, and if I could know which one exactly issues the death certificate. He dismissed me saying, ask someone there.

I was back at the very same BBMP office in Ulsoor. But instead of going up to the first floor again, I asked a seemingly knowledgeable man sitting outside on the steps (you always find a few outside government buildings), where I could get a death certificate. He guided me to a BBMP office, about a kilometer away.

I reached there, without any difficulty. But the person there said, the concerned office is another one, half a kilometer away.

Finally, I was at the right office. This was the BBMP Health Office. I walked into a small room, where there were two gentlemen sitting, one of them in front of a computer. With much anxiety on how many more times I would have to come there, I approached one of them.

"Please sit down," he told me with a smile as he took my documents. He read out my mother's name to his colleague sitting beside him at the computer, as I looked around the small room. Even before I could form any thoughts in my mind, he asked me, "How many copies?

With a triumphant look, he also added, "In no other office, you will get things done this fast!"

I was a pleasantly taken aback. "Three?" he suggested.

Apparently three originals is the norm, assuming these originals would be required for official purposes at places like banks. I said, "Yes, three," (so that I wouldn't have to come again, in case I needed more copies). I was still struggling to come to terms with the speed with which things had moved in a corporation office, which is normally associated with bureaucracy and lethargy.

In less than two minutes of me walking into this office, my work was done. All the particulars were there without any mistakes. Obviously, they had dutifully filled them all in well in time.

What's the fee, I inquired, with an obvious glee on my face.

"Rs 100, plus anything extra if you wish," he said, as he resumed his work.

I handed him Rs 120, congratulated him for the highly remarkable level of efficiency, profusely thanked him, and exited.

All the pessimism and the feeling that things will never ever improve in India, which had welled up within me during the past one hour, vanished into thin air in less than two minutes.

Despair not. Things have changed, they are changing, may be slowly. But there is hope.

Thursday, July 30, 2015

Midnight courtroom session and death penalty

The last time I stayed up so late, till 5 am, was when Mumbai was attacked in 2008.

The story broke around 11 pm, and it was well past 1 am when we got any idea of what was going on. I finished my pages and sent them to the press, by 2.30 am. By then three top police officers of Mumbai had been killed; and when I came home, I switched on the TV to see what was going on. I went to bed around 5 am unsure of what was happening to Mumbai, and if I would get to know about any more tragic developments in any other part of the country, when I got up next day morning.

Yesterday, when I was leaving office, news alerts came in saying the Supreme Court would hear at 2 am yet another challenge by Yakub Memon against the decision to hang him today morning. After I reached home, I switched on TV to keep track of what was an unprecedented act of the Supreme Court being opened up 2 am to hear a petition.

Apparently, the court entertained the plea to ensure that Indian judicial system was fair and transparent in considering an important appeal like this one.

Though it looked unlikely that the same three judges who had rejected earlier appeals would find merit in a new line of argument put forward by Yakub Memon's lawyers, I sat glued to the television as a tense sequence of events seemed to play out. I didn't want to miss out this one.

What a night it was for the legal and media fraternity! Apparently most of the people inside the court room were media personnel. There was virtually a live coverage of court proceedings. I thought the whole thing will end by 3 am or at the most 3.30. But arguments began only by 3.

Some of my friends too were up tracking this unprecedented apex court room activity, and we discussed the whys and hows, and the possible implications of this.

Finally, around 4.30 news came that the judgment would be delivered shortly. And just before 5 am, two hours before the scheduled hanging, verdict came that the appeal had been dismissed.

DEATH PENALTY

When it comes to death penalty, I have mixed feelings. Actually, my thoughts tend to be with people, wherever in the world they may be, who have had to suffer and even pay with their lives for no fault of theirs.

Most of these acts of crime or terrorism are part of a chain of tit-for-tat or eye-for-eye actions. Every thing is supposed to avenge a past crime. But, eye for eye makes no sense. I always wonder, can't we just forget the past, focus on the problems of the present and get on with our lives.

There has been a raging debate world over, not just in India, on the ethicality and morality of death penalty. There are many arguments for and against it.

In one view, how can one person who has elaborately plotted a crime with the objective of killing people, himself think that he can't be executed? What is the logic behind the thought that a murderer can only kill others, but himself can't be killed? 

THE MANY DOUBTS

Having said that, the fact is that capital punishment is one on a much different plane compared to all other punishments. It always leaves a number of questions unanswered.

At a very basic level, for a layperson, it is difficult to understand what crime exactly qualifies for a death penalty. What exactly is "the rarest of the rare" case? Many times we have seen the death penatly being commuted to life sentence.

My doubts about the righteousness of death penalty stems from how conclusively are we able to prove that an individual has to die; what about others who are party to the crime; there are also so many other related issues.

Court judgments are also a lot about how lawyers argue out their case, and how they are able to convince the judges, who, based on evidences presented, come to a judgement regarding the crime and the punishment. In the whole process, it cannot be denied that there is a lot of subjective interpretations coming into play at various levels.

In a sense, the death penalty can also be seen as an eye-for-eye approach. When a mistake or crime has been committed, the punishment makes little difference to the damage that has been committed. Lives lost don't come back. Properties destroyed aren't restored. Punishments are retributions. I doubt if they even serve as a deterrent.

MY TAKE

I don't think there will be much loss if we reimpose a moratorium on death penalty, if not altogether abolish it.

The Supreme Court in India has made execution a difficult option, with many layers of review. But that process in itself throws up umpteen questions.

My reasoning is simple: most often many questions are asked whether we have been able to conclusively prove the crime has been grave enough, whether it is the "rarest of the rare" to warrant death. Then there are also questions like: if A has been given death penalty, then what about B or C or D. Wasn't their crime also bad enough? Why haven't they got the death penalty? There are appeals and counter-appeals, and it goes on and on; which doesn't look good at all.

Instead, can't we jus opt for imprisoning the convict for the rest of his life with no option for remission, as the toughest punishment?

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Windows 10 - my first impressions

Around 11 am today, I opened my Outlook Mail to see if I had got any mail regarding availability of Windows 10 for my PC. There wasn't any. Then I clicked on the small "Get Windows 10" icon on the right end of the Taskbar, the icon that has been there ever since I reserved a copy of the new operating system.

When I clicked on that icon, a small window opened saying that Windows 10 has been downloaded on to my PC, and I had the option to instal it right away or at a later time. Impatient that I was, I clicked on Instal.

The process lasted around an hour, with multiple restarts. And finally, I got the free upgrade to Windows 10, and was good to go.

The Start button

The Desktop -- including the Wallpaper and Shortcuts -- remains as I had customized earlier. That means, I didn't have to make any customization all over again. The Taskbar at the bottom is now a black strip, with the Windows icon on extreme left (reminiscent of the Start button, we all were used to seeing). To its right is a small box to "Search the web and Windows". That's a good new addition.

Somewhere to the middle of the Taskbar are the apps that I have pinned to the Taskbar. This has that very vague resemblance to the Mac feature. (I know Apple fans will be outraged to see any attempt at comparison with their greatest gadget on the face of Earth.)

On the extreme right of the Taskbar are the same stuff, like time and date stamp, notifications, WiFi, battery indicator etc -- only that some of the icons look now different.

The first thing that I did -- well, Microsoft would have expected that from anyone who upgraded -- was to click on that Windows icon, or the Start button, on extreme left bottom. This was touted as the single most important feature of Windows 10, the restoration of the Start button.

Yes, the very same pop-up appeared, only that this time it's a bit broader, with all the most used app on the top left, and below that File Explorer, Settings and Power button. I remember how I struggled to find that Power button in Windows 8.1. Below Power button is "All apps".

To the right of the pop-up is the old live tiles that used to occupy most of the screen in 8 and 8.1. On top is "Life at a Glance", comprising Calendar, Mail, Photos, Weather etc. And below that block is "Play and Explore", comprising Games and and other leisure apps.

Minimize and Close

The other feature I found restored and felt quite happy about was the Minimize and Close buttons on top right when one opens a window. In Windows 8 and 8.1, once you opened a window, if you wanted to minimize or close it, you had to hover the mouse, for the buttons to appear, and along with them, in the most confusing manner, a vertical Menu also would appear on the right, making it all so cluttered and chaotic.

Mercifully, that's all gone, and you don't have to struggle to minimize or close a window that you have opened.

Windows Store

The app store is now available on the computer. That's very much in sync with Microsoft's aim of better integration among all devices. But it's a different matter that all Windows apps aren't as good as their counterparts in Android or iOS.

Cortana

I looked around for Cortana, the personal digital assistant (similar to Apple's Siri and Google Now). But it was nowhere to be found. I gave a search, and Microsoft website told me: "Cortana is available in the following countries/ regions: China, France, Germany, Italy, Spain, United Kingdom, and United States." This was a disappointment as I was looking forward to chatting with my PC.

Edge

This is the rebranded Explorer. One new feature is the "Make a Web Note", on top right. Click on it to make notes, draw lines or make a clipping. Otherwise, on first look, Edge looks very much the same. Nothing extraordinary about speed.

Different look

Most of the features, like Settings, File Explorer, Time and Date Stamp, and many apps have a much sleeker and nicer look about them.

Overall, first impression

Good. It looks like a natural progression from Windows 7. It's not confusing and cluttered, and the simpler interface is a big relief for people who are struggling with Windows 8 and 8.1.

Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Abdul Kalam, a beacon of inspiration

When I saw the three-word announcement "Abdul Kalam dead" on PTI Twitter feed close to 9 pm yesterday, I just couldn't believe it. There was an earlier news item that he had been hospitalized in Shillong. But his end was too unexpected and shocking. It took some time for it to sink in.

What a way for a man like Kalam to depart. He was doing what he likes the best: talking to students at the IIM in Shillong.

While I was watching television visuals of the official ceremonial tributes being paid to Kalam as he lay in State at the Palam airport this morning, one thought crossed my mind: Atal Behari Vajpayee is unable to come and pay his tributes. After all, it was the Vajpayee government that nominated him to the President's post.
In this extract from Turning Points: A Journey through Challenges, that appeared in Scroll, Kalam describes the moments that led up to him becoming the President. 
The fact that Kalam became the President, an unusual President, went a long way in all of us getting to know more about this amazing human being. Had he not become the President, we still would have known him, as a Missile Man. But the role of the President gave him a lot more of opportunities to influence all of us.

Abdul Kalam was more of a teacher, a scientist and gentle human being, than the 11th ceremonial Head of State of our nation. And because of those unique qualities, he was able to breathe fresh life into the role of the occupant of Rashtrapati Bhavan.

As a President, whenever Kalam attended events, he was not the stereotypical Head of State. He identified with the common people, especially children and students.

He came very close to what many of us see as a very desirable scenario of academicians and intellectuals getting to have a greater say in the running of our country. His speeches were not the typical long-drawn out ones dripping with political rhetoric. He had a vision for the country, to see India as a great nation; and he worked tirelessly for inculcating the right ideals and value systems among all of us, especially the students.

Kalam is gone. But his teachings and the invaluable thoughts he shared with us will always remain. And he will continue to be a beacon of inspiration, someone we can always look up to.

Rest in Peace, Kalam.

Here is a moving account by Srijan Pal Singh, an associate of Kalam, on Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/SrijanPalSingh/posts/1036964249687030

If the link isn't working here it is:

What I will be remembered for.. my memory of the last day with the great Kalam sir...

It has been eight hours since we last talked – sleep eludes me and memories keep flushing down, sometimes as tears. Our day, 27th July, began at 12 noon, when we took our seats in the flight to Guhawati. Dr. Kalam was 1A and I was IC. He was wearing a dark colored “Kalam suit”, and I started off complimenting, “Nice color!” Little did I know this was going to be the last color I will see on him.

Long, 2.5 hours of flying in the monsoon weather. I hate turbulence, and he had mastered over them. 

Whenever he would see me go cold in shaking plane, he would just pull down the window pane and saw, “Now you don’t see any fear!”.

That was followed by another 2.5 hours of car drive to IIM Shillong. For these two legged trip of five hours we talked, discussed and debated. These were amongsthundreds of the long flights and longer drives we have been together over the last six years. 

As each of them, this was as special too. Three incidents/discussions in particular will be “lasting memories of our last trip”. 

First, Dr. Kalam was absolutely worried about the attacks in Punjab. The loss of innocent lives left him filledwith sorrow. The topic of lecture at IIM Shillong was Creating a Livable Planet Earth. He related the incident to the topic and said, “it seems the man made forces are as big a threat to the livability of earth as pollution”. We discussed on how, if this trend of violence, pollution and reckless human action continues we will forced to leave earth. “Thirty years, at this rate, maybe”, he said. 

“You guys must do something about it… it is going to be your future world”

Our second discussion was more national. For the past two days, Dr. Kalam was worried that time and again Parliament, the supreme institution of democracy, was dysfunctional. He said, “I have seen two different governments in my tenure. I have seen more after that. This disruption just keeps happening. It is not right. I really need to find out a way to ensure that the parliament works on developmental politics.” He then asked me to prepare a surprise assignment question for the students at IIM Shillong, which he would give them only at the end of the lecture. He wanted to them to suggest three innovative ways to make the Parliament more productive and vibrant. Then, after a while he returned on it. “But how can ask them to give solutions if I don’t have any myself”. For the next one hour, we thwarted options after options, who come up with his recommendation over the issue. We wanted to include this discussion in our upcoming book, Advantage India. 

Third, was an experience from the beauty of his humility. We were in a convoy of 6-7 cars. Dr. Kalam and I were in the second car. Ahead us was an open gypsy with three soldiers in it. Two of them were sitting on either side and one lean guy was standing atop, holding his gun. One hour into the road journey, Dr. Kalam said, “Why is he standing? He will get tired. This is like punishment. Can you ask a wireless message to given that he may sit?” I had to convince him, he has been probably instructed to keep standing for better security. He did not relent. We tried radio messaging, that did not work. 

For the next 1.5 hours of the journey, he reminded me thrice to see if I can hand signal him to sit down. Finally, realizing there is little we can do – he told me, “I want to meet him and thank him”. 

Later, when we landed in IIM Shillong, I went inquiring through security people and got hold of the standing guy. I took him inside and Dr. Kalam greeted him. He shook his hand, said thank you buddy. “Are you tired? Would you like something to eat? I am sorry you had to stand so long because of me”. The young lean guard, draped in black cloth, was surprised at the treatment. He lost words, just said, “Sir, aapkeliye to 6 ghantebhikhaderahenge”. 

After this, we went to the lecture hall. He did not want to be late for the lecture. “Students should never be made to wait”, he always said. I quickly set up his mike, briefed on final lecture and took position on the computers. As I pinned his mike, he smiled and said, “Funny guy! Are you doing well?” ‘Funny guy’, when said by Kalam could mean a variety of things, depending on the tone and your own assessment. It could mean, you have done well, you have messed up something, you should listen to him or just that you have been plain na├»ve or he was just being jovial. Over six years I had learnt to interpret Funny Guy like the back of my palm. This time it was the last case. 

“Funny guy! Are you doing well?” he said. I smiled back, “Yes”. Those were the last words he said. 

Two minutes into the speech, sitting behind him, I heard a long pause after completing one sentence. 

I looked at him, he fell down. 

We picked him up. As the doctor rushed, we tried whatever we could. I will never forget the look in his three-quarter closed eyes and I held his head with one hand and tried reviving with whatever I could. His hands clenched, curled onto my finger. There was stillness on his face and those wise eyes were motionlessly radiating wisdom. He never said a word. He did not show pain, only purpose was visible. 

In five minutes we were in the nearest hospital. In another few minutes the they indicated the missile man had flown away, forever. I touched his feet, one last time. Adieu old friend! Grand mentor! See you in my thoughts and meet in the next birth. 

As turned back, a closet of thoughts opened. 

Often he would ask me, “You are young, decide what will like to be remembered for?” I kept thinking of new impressive answers, till one day I gave up and resorted to tit-for-tat. I asked him back, “First you tell me, what will you like to be remembered for? President, Scientist, Writer, Missile man, India 2020, Target 3 billion…. What?” I thought I had made the question easier by giving options, but he sprang on me a surprise. “Teacher”, he said. 

Then something he said two weeks back when we were discussing about his missile time friends. He said, “Children need to take care of their parents. It is sad that sometimes this is not happening”. He paused and said, “Two things. Elders must also do. Never leave wealth at your deathbed – that leaves a fighting family. Second, one is blessed is one can die working, standing tall without any long drawn ailing. Goodbyes should be short, really short”. 

Today, I look back – he took the final journey, teaching, what he always wanted to be remembered doing. And, till his final moment he was standing, working and lecturing. He left us, as a great teacher, standing tall. He leaves the world with nothing accumulated in his account but loads of wishes and love of people. He was a successful, even in his end. 

Will miss all the lunches and dinners we had together, will miss all the times you surprised me with your humility and startled me with your curiosity, will miss the lessons of life you taught in action and words, will miss our struggles to race to make into flights, our trips, our long debates. You gave me dreams, you showed me dreams need to be impossible, for anything else is a compromise to my own ability. The man is gone, the mission lives on. Long live Kalam.

Your indebted student,

Srijan Pal Singh

Monday, July 13, 2015

RIP, dear mom

She had been sinking; her weak lungs and heart trying their best to function normally. She had already drifted away into unconsciousness. When I came to see her today, I remembered and cherished the conversations we had till a couple of days ago. Then, in the evening, the doctor called me. "Have one last look," he said. They showed me the multiple lines on a pink graph paper, pointed to the time and said the end came at 5.56 pm.

My mother had been fighting old age even as her body was getting weaker and weaker. She was fiercely independent. She had amazing reserves energy to keep herself going. She tried her best, until she just couldn't.

She enjoyed the reputation of being a fine cook. Everyone in family always spoke of the many curries, sweets and other delicacies she made. Her tea had a unique taste; no one knew how she managed to get the right taste. A gift, I am sure.

Slowly, she stopped cooking. Then, she stopped washing vessels. She just used to prepare a cup of tea in the night. One day that too stopped. During the last few days she was just eating barely enough to keep herself going.

On the first of July, she seemed to have contracted a chest infection. We got a nearby physician to examine her. Since it looked like she wasn't getting better, on the eighth, we moved to her to a nearby hospital. On the next couple of days, she seemed to be getting better. But the doctor said the infection had weakened her lungs. She also seemed to have had a very mild heart attack a few days earlier, because of which the heart too was weak. The doctor was just hoping that things would get better, especially since two important organs weren't working to their full capacity.

During the last couple of days, her condition worsened, and today evening, she left for her heavenly abode.

One regret, if at all, was that she never wanted to be in hospital. And sadly, her last days had to be in one. But, mercifully, she didn't have to suffer much. She was 84, and lived a full life.

You leave behind tons and tons of good memories. You will never go away from my thoughts.

Rest in Peace, dear amma.

Thursday, June 25, 2015

40 years on, India is different now

Here is Emergency, 30 years ago

A few other points that come to my mind. The India then and now are vastly different - politically, economically and sociologically.

There was just one Congress, under Indira Gandhi, that dominated the political spectrum. Today, we have a plethora of parties, many of them regional ones. At one end, she was seen as a strong-willed leader who could get things done, and who kept India's national interest uppermost. At the other end, for Indira haters, she was an arrogant dictator.

At that time, there was hardly any private sector, that catered to our essential daily subsistence needs. We just had government-owned behemoths, the efficiency levels of which left a lot to be desired; and concepts like accountability weren't much heard of.

Forget internet, mobile phone or social media; there was not even television then. There was just one All India Radio, and a couple of newspapers and magazines for us to know what was happening in our country. There was little knowledge of what "other cultures and traditions" actually meant; the only source was a few foreign radio stations like BBC, Radio Australia, Voice of America etc, that were available on Short Wave bands.

The world itself has moved on, quite a distance, in the past 40 years. Most significantly, there is no USSR now. There is only one USA. With the fall of the Soviet empire, the Berlin Wall too came down. And along with it all the barriers that separated different ideologies and cultures too. (However, we are yet to figure out some way on how to co-exist in a world full of diversity.)

There is still this talk about whether Emergency, as it happened 40 years ago, will ever happen again. It is extremely difficult, for many reasons. In retrospect, we can see that there was a context then.

There was already an External Emergency in existence, due to the 1971 war with Pakistan. There was a bogey about foreign forces trying to break up India. So, Mrs Gandhi saw everything through that prism. No one had the guts to stand up against her, or put across a different view point. When opposition political parties and activists finally stood up, she could only see it as a deterioration in the state of the nation.

Another reason is the Constitution has been amended to make proclamation of Internal Emergency a difficult process that needs the approval of the Cabinet and both Houses of Parliament.

All said and done, there was lot of suffering during those days, which are now referred to as the Darkest Days of Democracy. Still there is little tolerance for contrarian views; some people have had to pay with their lives for standing up to strong power centres, so much so that there is often fear among many people to speak out. But what we then saw was an institutionalized, government-sanctioned suppression of any contrarian views.

It was a turning point in India's history, no doubt; a period many would like to forget rather than remember.

Tuesday, June 16, 2015

Missing, last seen on WhatsApp

Recently, my friend from Kolkata narrated an anecdote that happened in his neighbourhood.

A 20-year old college student went missing. He had returned after studies, but went out soon after, saying he was going to meet a friend. But neither did he mention anyone's name nor people at home ask. When he wasn't back even after 10 pm, folks at home began to get worried.

They called him on his mobile. But the calls repeatedly gave an 'out of coverage area' reply. Friends too tried, but to no avail. Messages too evoke no response.

A friend thought of checking WhatsApp. The Last Seen time stamp was only 10 minutes behind the actual time. That meant he was active on the messaging app. But the friends couldn't figure out why he hadn't bothered to inform where he was, but "was happily" WhatsApping.

A quick explanation was he might have tried to call or message but the mobile connectivity might have been bad. He might have been online as his data lines were more stable or he was on someone's Wi-Fi.

No sooner his friend noticed the missing boy's time stamp change to 'online' than he shot off a message.

"Where the hell are you? All are worried."

To the delight of everyone, he replied.

"I am at (a friend's) house. Don't worry. It's raining heavily here. Can't step out. Will come once rain reduces."

"Then why the **** you didn't tell anyone at home ...."

"Chill. Nothing to worry. Call wasn't going through. Will call now. Or you also tell them."

Apparently it was true that in the other part of the city, it was raining, and he was genuinely stuck.

He was back home around midnight to a lecture on how he should remember to keep someone posted on his whereabouts if he wasn't where he normally should be.

But the other takeaways from this incident were: one, how internet-based messaging platforms can help when the default phone call and SMS don't seem to work; and two, perhaps, more significantly, the clue the time stamp on Last Seen can provide about your status.

The above anecdote was narrated by my friend during a recent dinner get together we had with a few of our common friends, when he visited Bengaluru. His story triggered a debate on whether the Last Seen feature is an invasion of privacy or it is helpful.

Here is a gist of the arguments: some on predictable lines, some new lines of thought.

Against Hiding
  • Since when is WhatsApping a crime?
  • Why should I care if someone knows when I checked WhatsApp last? How does it matter to anyone? I might check at 1 in the afternoon or 4 in the night.
  • WhatsApp is not like Email. It is an instant messaging platform used for quick communication. So Online and Last Seen are important indicators, that show how easily I can be accessed.
  • Hiding doesn't serve any purpose anyway, because the double tick will indicate that I have got the message. And the blue tick (if I haven't disabled that) means I have read it too. So, what is the big deal? What am I trying to hide anyway?
For Hiding
  • Since it's an instant messaging platform, I am online most of the time. Then, why publicize additionally the precise timings too?
  • It's a system prone to technical issues, and not reliable. One, if the app is running in the background, especially on Android phones, I might be shown as online, when I am not actually. Two, if I only opened the app, and not read or typed a message, sometimes the Last Seen gets updated. Three, when using the web version, sometimes you are shown online, even when you have minimised the browser. The Last Seen feature is flawed and misleading.
  • Some people expect a reply from me immediately (on seeing that I have been online), when actually I haven't had time to type out a reply. 
  • Suppose I was chatting late at night with my friend in the US, my mom wants to know why I wasn't sleeping, and with whom I was chatting late in the night! Mom I can handle, but why should everyone else too know that I was up late into the night. It's total invasion of privacy. A provision to make oneself invisible is what is actually needed.
All of these finally got washed down with a few drinks and a generous helping of some Continental and Chinese delicacies.

Monday, May 25, 2015

Her dreams and their expectations

The visit was long overdue, and finally I got time one evening to drop by my friends' house.

Let's call them Sithesh and Sarah. They are bank executives, and they have a daughter Sangeetha who has just completed 12th.

One flip side of a bank job, is the transfer. You are liable to be moved from one to city to another anywhere in the country. And when both husband and wife work in banks, it can sort of wreak havoc with the family life.

Sithesh and Sarah have had their share of the problem, which proved to be quite troublesome especially after Sangeetha came. They had to be in different cities for years. Somehow, they have managed to pull it off, thanks to their parents and friends.

As soon as I landed up in their house, we launched ourselves into a non-stop conversation. There was so much to catch up.

Some half an hour later, Sangeetha came in. She had gone to her neighbour's house. It's about two years since I last met her.

In a while, she too joined our conversation. She spoke about her school, her teachers, her strict headmistress and her friends. Quite an opinionated girl, she had her own views about topics as varied as our education system, corporal punishment, dress code, traditions, taboos etc.

A little later, she brought a book in which she had drawn beautiful pictures; some of them pencil sketches, some them water-coloured drawings. There were images of landscape, objects, people --  a wide variety of the life we see around us. As I turned the pages, I could sense her eagerness for my nods of approval.

I was immediately reminded of what she had told me when I had come to their house the last time -- her ambition to make it big the world of design and arts. As she turned the pages of the scrap book of her creative work, she told me how she had read up on successful people in the field, the courses she could pursue and what lay in store for her in the profession.

When I told her that her work was good, it was neither by way of mere encouragement or blind flattery. I had meant it, for her works were stunning.

It was dinner time. While having the sumptuous spread that they had prepared, her parents spoke about what they made of their daughter's interests.

For them, it was merely her hobby, a pastime, or even a waste of time, as it was cutting into her study hours. She would be reading some article on design and art, instead of reading something related to school work, they whined.

I summoned my diplomatic skills, and merely nodded in approval, as a debate on turning hobbies into careers ensued. I took my own example, of how I consciously chose to do a post-graduation in Journalism though I had got admission to PG courses in Bio-Chemistry, Physical Chemistry and Applied Chemistry.

But, I had to be careful here not to infuriate my hosts, after all it was a sensitive subject; and it should not appear that I was trying to "wrongly" influence my friends' daughter.

Both Sithesh and Sarah want Sangeetha to be a doctor. They have their own reasons.

"She is good in studies; even top scores in biology. There are so many children who want to be doctors, but their parents don't have the money to educate them. But here there is no such problem. Sangeetha is so lucky to have everything. Children of 12 Std need to be guided to the right profession; and not allowed to choose one based on someone's recommendations or based on what they read on the internet. Parents know their children well, and therefore they are the best people to guide them to the right profession." They went on and on.

Now, I couldn't help making murmurs of disapproval. Without sounding crass or cut-and-dried, I gently suggested to them that though it was the duty of the parents to guide their children through the right path and give all support they need; after all, it's the children's career and life, and it should be left to them to take the final call.

Soon it emerged that the parents were opting the doctor's profession not just because Sangeetha was good in biology, but it was as a safe choice (for the parents), and given her academic brilliance, it almost looked as if Sangeetha's career in the medical profession will be stellar success.

There might be good career prospects in design and arts, they agreed with me. But why take the risk, why mess with life?, so went their argument.

I felt a bit sad, when a little later Sangeetha told me (without her parents hearing) that she would pursue medicine, because that is what her parents want. "After all, they have to support me in my education; it's not practical to rebel against them, when I am dependent on them."

She will soon be writing entrance examinations to medical colleges around the country. Knowing her, I am pretty sure that she will pass with good marks, and ultimately choose a good college (on suggestions from her parents, rather than anyone else), and do well in the medical course too.

However, I wonder if she is making the right choice. Should she pursue her passion or merely follow what her parents want her to do?

How will it all pan out for her when she is done with academics, and steps out into the real, hard world of patients, doctors and hospitals? That's the time your passion will be the only driving force. At that time, will the dormant interest for design and arts rear its head and spoil the chances for Sangeetha?

I don't know.

As of now, I can only wish her well.

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Kashmir problem: a different perspective


Kashmir: The Unwritten HistoryKashmir: The Unwritten History by Christopher Snedden
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I have for long been wanting to read this book, since Kashmir issue has intrigued me.

While many divisive problems around the world have either been resolved or are slowly inching towards a solution, this has defied one. Every time someone makes an attempt, ironically, it only seems to get worse.

I would recommend this book to anyone who is not sure of what the Kashmir problem is all about, especially its genesis.

The author, an Australian politico-socio researcher, provides an alternative history of the region.

For example, what is popularly known in India and Pakistan is that it's the raid of Kashmir by Pashtoon tribesmen from Pakistan, immediately after Independence, that forced the Maharaja to join India. But Snedden, with extensive documentation, says there was already widespread discontent in Poonch and Mirpur against the Maharaja.

He also talks about the communal polarisation in areas like Jammu and Poonch.

Besides the anti-British struggle for India's Independence, there was a parallel anti-Maharaja agitation for Kashmir's independence spurred by the sense of Kashmiriyat (Kashmiri pride).

Add to these, the creation of Azad Kashmir.

Given these and many other complex ground realities across the province (a lot of them, not widely known, which the author elucidates very clearly and elaborately), the decision for the Hindu ruler of the Muslim-majority province (to join India or Pakistan) wasn't an easy one. He dithered and dithered; until he had to take a decision, to join India, in October 1947.

This book probably has the most number of appendixes: the entire second half of the book.

View all my reviews

Sunday, May 17, 2015

An afternoon of food, books and friends

I am part of a Facebook group of bibliophiles. When I saw a post a week ago, about plans for a get together, I had mixed thoughts running through my mind.

Images of striking up conversations with, and getting to know people with whom I had interacted only online, began flashing. That's exciting for me. Moreover, I have always felt that bonding with people having common interests is easier, than randomly saying Hi to a stranger and striking up a conversation.

But another thought seemed to be weighing me down. After all, they are strangers. Nowhere it's said bibliophiles are also the most affable human beings on earth. (In fact, I know some with airs of huge diameter around them, and attitudes that poke you everywhere.)

Fighting off skepticism, and with fingers crossed, I replied to the post, telling the organizer to count me in.

On the appointed day, yesterday; a few minutes after the appointed hour of 12.30 pm, I landed up at Toit, a popular joint on 100 ft Road in Indiranagar. As I reached the 2nd floor, I was guided to the far corner, where tables had been booked.

I was neither the first to arrive nor the last. But the body language of the few who were already seated seemed to convey the impression that they knew me or recognized me (obviously via the FB profile photo.) Broad smiles, shake of hands, and self-introductions. As everyone else trouped in, the protocol carried on for a few more minutes.

We took out the books we had brought for either exchange or giveaway, and spread them on the table. The focus quickly shifted to that as each one of us lounged forward to pick them up, flipped pages and exchanged notes. Ice had broken even before we realised. Comments about how possessive we are about our books ... jokes and banter ...

Before landing up there, I had thought no one would find me interesting to talk to, and I would myself be struggling to make conversations with strangers. (My social skills are pretty bad.) I was completely wrong. We found many topics (besides books) to talk about. In fact, I was talking so much, I wasn't eating; so had to shut up and focus on food.

The best part, some of them were friends of my friends -- two of them are good friends of my ex-colleague; and the cousin of another is married to my schoolmate and family friend. What a pleasant surprise!

As the drinks arrived - from water to cocktails to beer - the conversation centred around how Indian and western cultures look at drinks... And, when the food - broccoli, pasta, pizza, burger etc - started landing up, the focus shifted to vegetarian vs non-vegetarian. How beef is Kerala's "favorite food", and what would happen if it were banned in Kerala.

Meanwhile, I realised quite late that it had been raining cats and dogs. A gentle reminder was the few drops, which found the gaps in the ceiling, falling on me. O, by the way, toit in French is roof.

At the end of it all, around 4 pm, the most remarkable takeaway was the bonhomie: I didn't feel anyone was a stranger. The only flipside, if there was one, was that the seating arrangement at the corner didn't make it quite comfortable for all of us to move around and mingle with one another as much as we would have wanted to. But we all had resolved to catch up, and keep in touch.

As the evening gave way to night, my Facebook notification pings wouldn't stop buzzing, with friend requests, posts and comments in the group.

So long. ... The buzz now is that the next meet-up will be a potluck party.