Cutting my teeth..

The Hindu Lit For Life Conclave – 29 October 2011

2011-12-30T14:39:00.000+05:30

It was only after my multipleattempts to trap likeminded friends into accompanying me to ‘The Hindu Lit ForLife’ conclave failed, that I went alone with a mix of anticipation andtrepidation. And boy, am I glad I did!

Nirmala Lakshmanan, Director, TheHindu kicked off proceedings by welcoming everyone to ‘The Hindu Lit For LifeConclave 2001’. Her nervousness was apparent in such slips that peppered herspeech. Firdose Vandrewala, the CMD of Hirco, tried his best – needlessly, mayI add – to explain why a realty company sponsored a literary event. He began byjoking that he had agreed to sponsor because he misread the event as ‘Fit ForLife’, during a moment of weakness – when his spectacles had vacated theirposition atop his nose for a cleaning session. But this sounded more plausiblecompared to the other, sober reasons he listed subsequently. He went on tomarket his organization’s business philosophy and narrated a joke where a manapproaches a doctor bemoaning the lack of sound and smell whenever he breakswind. The doctor prescribes some medicines after examining and the patientreturns a week later, furious. He blames the doctor for the newfound, foulsmell in his output. The doctor on the other hand, is happy at the instantresults in his efforts to cure the patient’s olfactory sense and now proceedsto fix his hearing. Vandrewala used this to point out how Hirco helps ignorantcustomers make right choices when it comes to buying property. An elegant wayto make a point indeed! Leela Samson spoke of how Chennai always celebratesculture ‘with a vengeance’. After her pleasant speech, came David Davidar, aman I have longed to see and hear. I was a regular reader of his column ‘BookTalk’ and hence he can take part of the credit for my love for books – and adebit as well, for the considerable sum I expend buying them! But, the momenthe stood up, the only thing that struck me was the sexual harassment charge hefaced in Canada which saw his return to India. His speech was lost on me as I wasleft wondering how a man with such a hazy past can retain the respect of thesociety (at least the assembled part of it) and proceed to address them from aposition of authority – as a publisher and writer. On the other hand, we haveindividuals who waste their life away obsessing over minor errors of omission.I am not sure which approach works better – may be, as in everything else inlife, a balance is all we need.

Ziya Us Salam then engagedMohammed Hanif in a tête-à-tête about sub-continental literature. Geeta Doctorwho was supposed to introduce them and move on, stayed back. Though nobodyreally minded her staying back, it was almost comical to see Ziya Us Salam (rightfullyso) struggling with her to take control of the discussion and steer itaccording to his plan. In fact, Hanif made his displeasure known when he cut into her question ‘Do you have bookshops in Pakistan...?’ with a gem of ananswer: ‘Yes Madam. We have books in Pakistan. We have ice-cream too!’ (I thinkher question was about the market for Urdu books there.) At the end of thediscussion, I was so taken up by his views on classifying a section of societyas ‘minority’ that I resolved to read Hanif’s latest book, ‘Our Lady of AliceBhatti’. This is his second novel, after the brilliant ‘A Case of ExplodingMangoes’.

Latha Anantharaman’s column onbooks that appears in Metroplus on alternate Saturdays is a huge favourite. AndI am a big fan of the title of Rahul Bhattacharya’s debut novel ‘The SlyCompany of People Who Care’. So when they came together to discuss travelliterature, I was all ears. But the chill atmosphere rushed me to attend to acall from nature. It was with much reluctance that I requested the girl sittingnext to me (probably a student) to mind my seat while I was gone. There was ahuge demand for seats and I had no plans of giving up my strategically locatedterritory that was a prize to my punctuality. I returned soon to listen totheir almost lyrical exchanges – Rahul also gave a beautiful reading from hisbook. Ranvir Shah too, like his predecessor, stayed on after introducing them,but did not interfere with the conversation flow. On the contrary, he enrichedit with pertinent questions. And without a doubt, this was the best paneldiscussion of the day.

Siddharth Varadarajan, the editorof The Hindu, was next on stage with Bama Faustina, P Sivakami and Susie Tharuto discuss Dalit literature, under the title ‘Is Writing a Healing?’ Though Iam yet to read a book that falls under this category, I am curious enough to doso soon. But the labelling of a genre on the basis of caste appears to me flawed.This is not to deny the fact that Dalits – or for that matter, several othercommunities – are still being discriminated against. These works can reach alarger audience when they are aggregated as part of the general humanexperience. Isn’t it an irony to classify literature based on the caste of thewriter, while the same writers claim that they are fighting caste discriminationin life? This is a case of excessive importance accorded to the identity of thewriter rather than the merits of the book by objectively looking at it as awork of art, which every book is. For instance, books on Jews are popular notbecause they come with graphic accounts of the persecution of Jews, but dueentirely to the artistic elements like narrative, style, story,characterisation and plot. And Bama’s repeated use of the word ‘militant’ wasnot in sync with the prevailing atmosphere in the hall. Sivakami, on the otherhand, tried to keep the discourse as dignified as possible. Susie Tharu’s viewswere most insightful. She spoke of how her students, belonging to both high andlow castes, were equally ignorant of the implications of the caste system andhow their lives and views are invariably unaffected by any analysis of the subject.How true! Some ideas are so ingrained in us that most reformist efforts amountto nothing more than scratching the surface.

I crossed the road withdifficulty – a reminder of how pedestrian-unfriendly our roads are – to lunchat Chit Chat. The key to success is to quickly pick up the herd mentality andjoin the crowd which moves in the direction of your destination! I stepped outafter about 30 minutes, fully resolved never to even take the name of thatrestaurant again. It is easily a frontrunner for the title of the worstrestaurant in Chennai.

I rushed in time for the ‘TragedyWorkshop – The Hardships of Writing’ by Zac O Yeah with great expectationswhich were belied when I saw over 100 people in attendance. The organizersshould have stuck to their guns and ensured only those who had registered werepresent for the workshop. Its effect on Zac was clearly visible. He was sittingwith trembling hands and a face glistening with sweat. He was speechless forthe most part. Besides, it was obvious that he isn’t used to, and comfortablewith, a public speaking setting. He struggled through the motions but didprovide a lot of insights. For starters, I realised that one need not be a goodpublic speaker to be a good writer. Writing is, after all, a lonely endeavour.Despite a barrage of irrelevant questions from the audience, he did manage toexplain the 3 stages in writing a novel. If the team size had been limited to,say 12 or 15, like he repeated many times, he might have been able to give usexercises and pay individual attention. Thanks to the generousness of theorganisers, the workshop ended up being a lame lecture that pleased nobody,including Zac.

This was followed by a panel discussionamong four publishers – Urvashi Butalia, Ravi Singh, Karthika VK and SaugataMukherjee. The highpoint of this exchange was their confession that they areyearning for good manuscripts in erotic fiction and that they absolutely abhorthe self-help category. (A member of the audience began his query thus: ‘Sinceyou are saying that publishers are interested in erotic things...’ The roofcrashed!) Surprisingly, they sounded optimistic about the e-book phenomenonsaying they are fully prepared for that transformation. And they had a partingadvice for all aspiring writers (trust me when I say the hall overflowed with membersof this species): ‘Forget the idea of becoming a writer. It’s a difficultlife!’

Baradwaj Rangan, another of myfavourite writers for The Hindu, then struck a conversation with SuhasiniManiratnam, on ‘Writing in the time of cinema’. It was a wide-rangingdiscussion that touched upon various aspects of cinema like scriptwriting,direction, reviewing (which Suhasini termed ‘film appreciation’) andmovie-adaptation of books. And it was full of energy and enthusiasm with a doseof nostalgia as both the panellists and the audience began discussing somegreat movies of the past.

The Proustian title for the nextevent, ‘Remembrance of Things Past’, was enough to get me hooked. The first10-15 minutes of the discussion when Gowri Ramnarayan spoke to film maker andcritic Khalid Mohammed about his fixation with nostalgia was engaging. The next45 minutes though, are a blur – Anna Vetticad, a film critic who worked forHeadlines Today in the past (as she reminded us over a hundred times), rambledon about the reach of the social media and she managed to speak at lengthwithout ever answering any question to the point. Gowri’s blunt request for a‘short’ answer too met with the same fate. And she always made it a point todig out her personal biographical facts when that had nothing to do withGowri’s questions! Even the questions from the audience went unanswered notwithstandingher lengthy riposte to each.

The day ended with a big bang. Thanksto Vir Das. I have watched Delhi Belly twice, but had not particularly noticedVir Das. This man is a phenomenon and needs to be seen to be believed. Therewere absolutely no holy cows or sacred subjects that escaped the wrath of hisdeadly humour while he tore through the wall of even the stiffest of prudes.Like me, I am sure, nobody assembled there had laughed so hard in a span of 60minutes. From everybody’s favourite punching bag, Arnab Goswami (he defiesphysics), to intimate male-female relationships (also male-male), he tickledour funny bones on every subject under the sun – nonstop! Inevitable then, thathe was requested to return to the stage to take another bow.

Of course, there were a few sourspots. And almost all of these were from among the audience. Several funnycharacters took the practice of posing questions to the panel to ridiculousdepths. In the guise of asking philosophical or ideologically importantquestions, they made silly asses of themselves in public. There was this fellowwho seemed to have assumed that it was his god-given right to question everyonewho got on stage. His questions were all absolutely ambiguous and his English amongthe worst I have witnessed in such forums. For instance, he kept repeating‘phayolance’ to a baffled panel, when what he had in mind was ‘violence’. Hewould begin with a long ‘HHHHaank.......You....’ as soon as he conquered the mic,and give a forward push to his entire body such that it formed a ‘)’. Anotherlady vented all her anger on Suhasini for the lack of good schools that teachscriptwriting in India. There was another presumptuous brag in the audience whohad come with only a sleeveless vest on. He must not have been more than 24 buthad several ridiculous-disguised-as-profound questions to ask. He seemed to beunder the influence of drugs as his few questions that were not unintelligibleconcerned only the impact of drugs and drinks on writing. There were a coupleof other elderly gentlemen, whose sole objective seemed to be to assert theirprofessions – one would identify himself as a ‘professor’ every time he stoodup to ask a question. Hussaini, whose claim to fame is his demonstration of Karateskills on TV, asked a question and walked out in a huff when the answer was notin line with his thinking. Till then he was flaunting his iPad and I even sawit lying at his feet for a while. And there were also other specimens whokilled silently. One would write his name on every brochure that he could layhis hands on, always with his profession: ‘Poet and Filmmaker’. During the VirDas show, I saw him spit in to the water bottle, several times!

Tahmima Anam (Just in theNeighbourhood), A R Rahman (The Right Chord) and Yoga Japee (Comic Timing) didnot show up. But I absolutely adore the dignity of The Hindu in not uttering asingle word about the absentees – even someone as high profile as ARR. Therewere no passing remarks or indirect references. Not even apologies to theaudience. I just couldn’t help contrasting this behaviour with what the nationhas come to expect from ‘you-know-who’ – turn everything into THE ‘burningquestion’ based on self-serving conspiracy theories!

I am happy that I went alonebecause it allowed me to relish each event purely on its merit without anyprejudices – both my own and of others – and without being judgmental of any ofthe speakers and the topics – something unavoidable if I had had company. Ireturned home with that heady feeling that comes from inhaling literature allday.

My Kolaveri-inspired farewell song

2011-12-10T07:42:00.001+05:30

[“Nothing makes the earth seem so spacious as to have friends at a distance; they make the latitudes and longitudes.”]

Yo colleague..i am singing song
Fare song..-well song

I say sayonara, sayonara, sayonara - team
I say sayonara, sayonara, sayonara - team

Timing correct
I say sayonara, sayonara, sayonara - team

au revoir
I say sayonara.................aaa - team

Thanks-u to my boss-u boss-u, boss-u always right-u
Also to my colleagues-u colleagues-u, colleagues-u all-u bright-u

I say sayonara, sayonara, sayonara - team
I say sayonara, sayonara, sayonara - team

Wish you all the best-u best-u, best-u of luck-u,
best-u luck-u meet-u meet-u, your future-u bright-u

I say sayonara, sayonara, sayonara - team
I say sayonara, sayonara, sayonara - team

baba phone no. take, also mail id take
Pa pa pa ppan, Pa pa pa ppan, Pa pa pa ppan, Pa pa ppan
and share them with me

super baba ready onee twooo three four

whaa! wat-a change over baba
ok baba now job change-u,

Life-la matram..
Only English..
Life-la change-u, change-la thrill-u, is-u now and here-u
Stay in touch-u, in-teract-u, memory reverse gear-u
Phone-u phone-u please-u phone-u, it will always be on-u
Mail-u mail-u please email-u, if-u you can't phone-u
God, i am leaving now-u, taking all your love-u
This-u song-u for farewell-u
‘THANK YOU’, I tell-u!

I say sayonara, sayonara, sayonara - team
I say sayonara, sayonara, sayonara - team
I say sayonara, sayonara, sayonara - team
I say sayonara, sayonara, sayonara - team

Keep singing & smiling!

Change is the only constant

2011-11-17T20:31:00.001+05:30

Ten reasons why the life and work of Jayalalitha is a manifestation of the universal truth, ‘Change is the only Constant’:

1. She comes to power only to lose the next election. And she rides to power in the subsequent one. Her power status keeps changing all the time.
2. She fights court cases in various cities and states. True to her message, the venues change frequently.
3. She undertakes routine changes in her administration by shuffling ministers and their portfolios whenever she is bored.
4. She shuffles bureaucrats around too, seemingly for no apparent rhyme or reason. An in-depth study will bring out the truth – her desire to make all humanity understand the need for change.
5. Her poll promises change to keep pace with the changing times. If it was rice twenty years back, it is laptop this year. And next up could be free electricity to run all the freebies doled out so far.
6. She religiously keeps changing her poll partners for every election.
7. The moment she comes to power she changes every single policy of the earlier (enemy) government.
8. She loves to put buildings and monuments to uses totally different from what they were conceived and built for. By changing the location of offices, libraries, hospitals, etc. from time to time, she ensures that her message reaches far-flung corners of the earth.
9. She changes school syllabus and college examination / cutoff policies to help students imbibe this truth early in their lives.
10. She is a living proof that the best ideology in life is to keep changing one’s ideologies. To summarize, she is the change she wants to see. And, her life is her message.

Probity Begins At Home

2011-09-11T15:40:00.000+05:30

At the height of the campaign, newspapers wereawash with pictures of protestors on the streets in support of Anna Hazare’sdemand for a stronger Lok Pal and there was one of ‘IT employees’ in Chennaitaking out a procession on their bikes carrying flags, banners and otherparaphernalia. The most striking aspect in this picture is the number of peoplenot wearing a helmet - a huge paradox, because it is apparent that thismajority is blissfully unconscious of breaking one law while demanding another.

And this is the reason for mylove-hate relationship with this Jan Lok Pal movement. I admire Anna’s courage insparking the movement that has created awareness among the masses about howcorruption is destroying our nation. At the same time, I have serious reservationsabout the ‘civil society’ that is out to support him and their coercive methods.

How many of us respect the ruleof law in every sphere of our lives? Here is a small sample: not jaywalking; respectingthe stop line, not jumping signals and lanes; paying taxes for every pennyearned (including declaration of interest income and paying wealth tax); notspitting and throwing waste on the streets; respecting ‘No Smoking’ zones; notpaying small bribes to get things done. The list is long and the answer, short:very few!

So here is a thought for myfellow citizens disillusioned by the corruption scandals that are erupting witha numbing regularity: probity, like charity,ought to begin at home.

Of what use are these protests ifevery citizen cannot take responsibility for personal honesty and exemplarycivic sense? Regardless of stringent new laws and better enforcement ofexisting ones, change is possible only when it originates from within each ofus. All those who protest and point fingers at politicians, bureaucrats, et al.should remember the dictum: ‘Physician, heal thyself’.

The power to bring about change does not lie insubverting the prerogative of the constitution and parliament as the sole makersof laws, but in being conscientious voters and patriotic citizens. The massivedisplay of public outrage will end up as an empty echo of self-righteoussloganeering, unless we realise this. If even a hundred Indians start introspecting– and break the shackles of the ‘chalta hai’ attitude – this movement can be considereda success. Instead of hoping for a swelling in the ranks of these protestors, letus look forward to all of civil society display greater civic sense. Let us bethe change we want to see.

The Harud Literary 'Fiestival'

2011-09-10T15:16:00.000+05:30

Mr. Basharat Peer, whose 'Curfewed Night' I greatly admire, wrote this piece in The Hindu. I was provoked to write a letter to the editor. Here is the long form:

It is disappointing to see a writer of Mr. Basharat Peer’s calibre seeking refuge behind a smokescreen of bitter, specious arguments. He seems to have forgotten the kind of impact his eloquent book ‘Curfewed Night’ has had in informing and reshaping the views of thousands of ordinary Indians who are far removed from the harsh ‘abnormality’ in Kashmir. Likening congress to the ISI, finding fault with the sponsors and citing ‘pre-1947’ historical baggage as excuses for boycotting the Harud literary festival shows his haste in shooting the messenger. As long as no topic is tabooed from discussions during the event, there is no reason why Mr. Peer and his ilk should not use it as a platform to spread their message farther availing the heightened media interest that is unavoidable during a festival such as this.

Instead Mr. Peer goes on about inane things like ‘a U.N.-supervised referendum’ to ascertain the preference of the Kashmiri people! One discussion with a reputed author in a high profile literary event can have far-reaching impact on budding writers and readers alike and this can never be compared with thousands of ‘intense conversations’ in ‘many rooms’. But such are the absurd generalisations he propounds. And in an event ‘wholly free from state interference’ that he so desires, how many writers does he think would be willing participate without ‘state’ security?

However ‘brutal’ and ‘repressive’ these writers find the ‘regime’ to be, there can be no justification to boycott a civilised and well-publicised debate that alone can inform and enlighten the masses. And this might well do its bit to form a national opinion that is favourable to Kashmiris.

The Beautiful Game

2011-05-20T14:55:00.000+05:30

Whenever a movie or an actor wins awards, my usual reaction is a desire to watch that movie. Yesterday is a different story though. The feeling is vastly different after Aadukalam bagged seven national awards. I am overjoyed and elated to my own surprise. For the first time, I am truly happy that a particular movie bagged awards.

And the reasons are not far to seek. Most movies do not aspire to go beyond entertaining the audience. And the few that do are more often than not afflicted by some cinematic artifice that nags like a sour spot you cannot locate.

Aadukalam makes for an honourable exception. It entertains. It has no flaws. And it transcends the sphere of entertainment by showcasing human emotions in their rawest form.

There is no scene in this movie that I found avoidable or boring. The narrative is so well structured that every scene deepened the suspense and nudged me further in my journey down the seat’s edge. And not a song is out of place! This, everyone will admit, is a rarity in our times. Besides the music and the background score being truly enjoyable, they gel so well with the story.

As for capturing human emotions, I have serious doubts if Vetrimaaran can outdo himself in the future for he has set very high standards indeed by supplying a steady stream of goose bumps. The starkest contrast is the one he paints between the pride of the villain and the innocence of the hero. There is also the ignorance of the hero’s sidekick; the hero’s mixed feelings for his mother; his repentance after her death; his infatuation for the heroine; his shock at the betrayal by his mentor; and, most importantly, his act of pardon. To be honest, this is a long list and I have had to sacrifice the rest at the altar of brevity, hoping this conveys the essence.

The rich haul of awards is a truly well deserved achievement no one can grudge this world class movie. While Vetrimaaran and Dhanush did impress me in their earlier outing (Polladhavan), I had no inkling of what was to come. I only hope this duo has some more tricks up their sleeves.

Breeding Closet Communists

2011-03-21T18:28:00.000+05:30

Soon after the string of scams that we Indians witnessed with a mix of shame and sorrow, several voices are clamouring for more space for private players in the public sphere. This, they claim, is the panacea that will root out the evil that engenders corruption in our country. Nothing could be far from the truth.

The common thread that runs through all the scams that have been unearthed so far is a conspicuous public-private partnership. If the 2G spectrum scam exposed babus bending backwards to favour specific telecom companies, the Niira Radia tapes established the almost criminal nexus between corporate captains and their public counterparts. We were witness too, to the spectacle of the CWG scam, where personal favoritism dictated the awarding of contracts to private companies for various projects and the resultant slipshod work. There are just a few examples in a sea of scams, each of which have benefited one or the other private sector company. Of course, what the babus received in return is anybody’s guess.

Contrary to being a cure, this privatisation drive is bound to fill the already overflowing coffers of the elite few – something the opening up of the Indian economy has been doing over the past two decades. This will only accelerate the widening of the rich-poor divide. When a government that comes to power riding on the promise to work for the aam aadmi can turn pro-rich, despite being entirely dependent on the same aam aadmi for reelection, what real motivation does the private sector have to work for them, if not its own profits? How can we even contemplate entrusting the private sector with the responsibility of good governance, despite being aware of what the Ramalinga Rajus of the world are capable of? The inability of the private sector to serve the public cause also stood exposed only recently when their profit motives clothed as service for the poor in the guise of micro finance institutions not only aggravated farmer suicides, but also saw the CEOs of these companies taking home a lion’s share of the money that was accrued through a combination of usurious interest rates and coercive collection methods. This is blood on one’s hands. One cannot blame the private sector for its excess focus on the bottom lines because it is answerable to the investors. The point to note is that its nobility is not unquestionable.

If anything, what we actually need to eradicate such endemic venality are conscientious citizens: poor or rich, champions of the private sector or public. We need to become a nation of people high on integrity; who obey laws willfully; who have respect for others; who champion the cause of the downtrodden instead of exploiting them; who do not discriminate on grounds of caste, religion, community, language or region; and, who require no policing.

In our expedient approach – something that is second nature to Indians – we risk ignoring the white elephant in the middle of the room. I seriously doubt if this country possesses the wherewithal to weather a revolution if every closet communist is forced in to the open.

Our Skewed Collective Conscience

2010-12-24T11:51:00.000+05:30

While upholding the High Court verdict in the Dharmapuri Bus Burning case, which saw the loss of three innocent, young lives, the Supreme Court termed the crime ‘heinous’, ‘barbaric’, ‘diabolical’, and ‘grotesque’ among other things. This crime fell under the ‘rarest of the rare’ category that ‘showed the highest degree of depravity and brutality’ warranting exemplary capital punishment.

This verdict came in the backdrop of a Kashmir in turmoil. Kashmir is seeing scores of innocent lives – most of them young – being lost with an alarming regularity. But it has failed to evoke our outrage, sympathy and understanding in equal measure.

The perpetrators of the crimes in Kashmir are the defence forces, besides the militants. The large-scale stifling of voices in Kashmir under barbed wires and long-drawn curfews means not all crimes are reported. From among the ‘stories’ that the media has access to, only those that it finds ‘attractive’ reach its audience.

Nothing can be worse than being treated as third-class citizens and suspect terrorists in their home towns. What can be more demeaning than having to take tests of loyalty and identity even during those routine trips to the market or office or school? And they have to contend with the “disappearance” of members of their families from time to time – one that does not faze the administrators enough in to action.

Kashmiris also live with the ever-present danger of a terrorist attack that has already cost too many lives but the government has been unable to do anything to effectively control it. For all our tall talk of military capabilities, our borders continue to remain porous.

To the rest of India, Kashmir has become a mere geographical unit, a scenic tourist spot, with attendant statistics that incidentally also include lives lost. We fail to look beyond these at the human faces. Why don’t we realise that they too need to be treated as ordinary Indians whose daily lives are no different from ours – the same struggles, celebrations, miseries and little joys? Why do we always look at Kashmir through tinted glasses – 370, AFSPA, suspect citizens – and are never perturbed enough to mend them? Is it not disproportionate to counter stones with bullets? The real value of life can only be gauged in this valley of fear and death.

If after over sixty years of governance, misgovernance, concessions and thousands of lives lost, the popular opinion in Kashmir favours accession to a rudderless Pakistan then we only need to imagine the frustration level and the sense of alienation of the Kashmiris that dwarfs a resurgent, shining and a more-or-less-practising-democracy that is India, in their eyes. While the security forces cannot be wholly blamed for this state of affairs – though admittedly their actions triggered the latest eruption – why isn’t the government even attempting to reach out overtly to the sensibilities of the Kashmiris instead of preaching from high pedestals.

Having proven our incompetence to effectively govern Kashmir and win the hearts and minds of its people, it is high time they decide their future and uphold Kashmir’s new, collective fate and will. The GoI should take the plunge, swallow the false sense of pride that has been misleading it and discover the true aspirations of Kashmir in a plebiscite under the auspices of the UN: remain with India or secede from it either for independence or to unite with Pakistan. PoK too has to have a say in this poll and its outcome must be treated as final and honoured by all three parties.

Of course, India may end up losing a great part of its beautiful geography, an extraordinary people and their unique tradition and history. However, no price is too high to pay for peace.

The peace that will dawn on this ‘paradise on earth’ should help the sub-continental rivals step down their defence expenditure and decelerate the nuclear race, giving us ample time and the resources for a concerted effort to uplift the disadvantaged and to eradicate poverty. Most importantly, it will envelope us with a sense of great satisfaction for having healed a festering wound that has caused heavy bleeding and unimaginable human distress for decades.

2010: A Year In Reading

2010-12-15T15:19:00.001+05:30

Partly inspired by the popular column of the same name in The Millions, and partly enthused by my own most productive reading year yet, I have decided to take a walk down my reading lane of 2010.

The first thing that strikes me is how significantly 2010 has refined my taste and appetite for reading, like no year before. And in the process, I have discovered new authors who delivered hitherto unknown pleasures of reading to me. Twitter multiplied my joys by providing a platform to share these pleasures with others. Most importantly, Twitter opened up newer vistas for me to glean ideas and insights about several books and authors.

I began the year reading Lynne Truss’s ‘Eats, Shoots & Leaves’ in my quest to improve the quality of my writing. It definitely is an impressive work and inspired me to read her other book, ‘Talk to the Hand’ which concerns one of my pet topics. Staying in the non-fiction department, I am captivated by V Ramachandran’s ‘The Emerging Mind’ which simplifies science and makes it approachable for all. Subroto Bagchi inspires with his ‘Go Kiss The World’. But it is in Robin Sharma’s ‘The Greatness Guide’ that I find the best non-fiction work I read this year. While I am generally averse to self-help books, Robin Sharma not only fixed my prejudice, but also moved me to action. Yes, I am now in hot pursuit of my dreams.

Basharat Peer’s ‘Curfewed Night’ has transformed my view of the Kashmir issue thoroughly via a heart rending portrayal of the human misery caused by years of civil war. Despite Shashi Tharoor’s protestation that ‘The Great Indian Novel’ is a work of fiction, I simply cannot help categorizing it as a witty and entertaining work of non-fiction that summarises the history of 20th century India in a beautiful way. Robert Kiyosaki’s ‘Rich Dad Poor Dad’ makes me regret not having read it earlier while John Steinbeck’s ‘Journal of a Novel’ is a huge boost to my self-confidence to pursue my dreams. One great work of non-fiction that swept me off my feet is ‘The Great Railway Bazaar’ by Paul Theroux. Reading it during my vacation simply doubled the pleasure that I have derived out of this unputdownable book. This is also the first and only travelogue I have read. The last book in this genre for the year, I just read, happens to be Peter Pande’s ‘What is Six Sigma’ – a superb primer and a quick read.

The only book of poetry that I completed reading this year is Edward Fitzgerald’s ‘Rubaiyyat of Omar Khayyam’. I put it down with a sad realisation that I am not much of a poetry person. But several volumes of collections of poetry await me and I am determined to persist till I develop a taste for it.

On the other hand, I discovered that ‘reading’ drama can be enjoyable. Arthur Miller’s ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’ with its delectable cover is irresistible and moving.

However, it is in fiction that I found vibrancy and am tremendously glad to end the year with a heightened taste for literary fiction.

What began innocuously with Hilary Mantel’s ‘Wolf Hall’, has taken my love for literary fiction to unimagined heights and has raised my aspiration levels for the coming years. G K Chesterton’s ‘The Complete Father Brown Stories’, ‘The Complete Ghost Stories of Charles Dickens’, two books by Chetan Bhagat (‘2 States: The Story of My Marriage’ and ‘The 3 Mistakes of My Life’), P G Wodehouse’s ‘Something Fresh’ and Jean Webster’s ‘Daddy-Long-Legs’ provided entertaining interludes in my journey of discovery.

‘Exodus’ and ‘Armageddon’ by Leon Uris are entertaining, powerful and informative. They have given me a sense of history as it must have played out then. ‘The Blaft Anthology of Tamil Pulp Fiction’ is the worst book I read this year and fortunately for me, it did not waste too much of my time. This is crucial because of my practice of reading a book through to its end irrespective of whether I like it. Amitav Ghosh’s ‘The Calcutta Chromosome’ has been good enough to instill in me the urge to read his other books. ‘Three Novellas: Nashtanir, Dui Bon, Malancha’, a translation of Rabindranath Tagore’s works is his first book of fiction I have read and its intensity has left me yearning for more. Naturally, I ended up adding two of his books to my library. Howard Jacobson’s ‘The Finkler Question’ is top class – entertaining and thought-provoking in its narration of how deeply the idea of identity can torment a person.

I have reserved the best for the last: ‘The Best Short Stories of Fyodor Dostoevsky’ and Vladimir Nabokov’s ‘Lolita’. These two writers have transformed the way I look at fiction and given my reading some purpose. While I don’t dispute Maya Angelou’s stand that “A bird does not sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song”, these writers show how art can also open up a world of ideas for the reader. While Nabokov’s language has left me mesmerized, Dostoevsky’s stories of intense personal trauma are lessons in human psychology. Without a doubt, I am sure to read every single work of theirs.

I end the year on a high, journeying in the company of the inimitable 'Don Quixote'.

There is one other important thing that 2010 will be remembered for: I am fortunate to have got acquainted with three serious readers who seem to share my taste. This led to several thought-provoking discussions and has taken me to authors I had not heard of before. For instance, Marcel Proust is at the top of my reading list now, thanks to the numerous discussions I had with a colleague of mine during our swimming sessions. And the good news is these relationships are growing in strength, which promises loads of exhilaration in the years to come.

I am already excited about drawing up a similar list for 2011. It should be a lot more fascinating given the amazing collection I acquired last month.

The complete list, in chronological order(!):
1) Eats, Shoots & Leaves, Lynne Truss
2) Wolf Hall, Hilary Mantel
3) The Complete Father Brown Stories, G K Chesterton
4) The Complete Ghost Stories of Charles Dickens
5) Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov
6) A Streetcar Named Desire, Arthur Miller
7) The Emerging Mind, V Ramachandran
8) Go Kiss The World, Subroto Bagchi
9) Exodus, Leon Uris
10) 2 States: The Story of My Marriage, Chetan Bhagat
11) The 3 Mistakes of My Life, Chetan Bhagat
12) The Greatness Guide, Robin Sharma
13) The Calcutta Chromosome, Amitav Ghosh
14) The Blaft Anthology of Tamil Pulp Fiction
15) Armageddon, Leon Uris
16) Curfewed Night, Basharat Peer
17) Something Fresh, P G Wodehouse
18) The Great Indian Novel, Shashi Tharoor
19) Edward Fitzgerald’s Rubaiyyat of Omar Khayyam
20) Three Novellas: Nashtanir, Dui Bon, Malancha, Rabindranath Tagore
21) The Best Short Stories of Fyodor Dostoevsky
22) Daddy-Long-Legs, Jean Webster
23) Rich Dad Poor Dad, Robert T Kiyosaki
24) Talk to the Hand, Lynne Truss
25) Journal of a Novel, John Steinbeck
26) The Finkler Question, Howard Jacobson
27) The Great Railway Bazaar, Paul Theroux
28) What is Six Sigma, Peter Pande
29) Don Quixote, Miguel De Cervantes

Don't Panic - Just Plumb The Leak

2010-12-07T16:30:00.000+05:30

The torrent of outrage and overreaction to Cablegate emanating from diverse corners of the globe is amusing at best. It seems, over the years the world has deluded itself by attributing false interpretations to diplomacy. The art of diplomacy demands its practitioners to cloak private views in tricky clauses in agreements or surrender them altogether to the demands of either expediency or in rare instances, public pressure.

More intriguing is the reaction from India: mature and muted. Is it due to our familiarity with the art of deception? Or are we truly mature enough not to worry about the private views people and nations may hold, as along as what is above the dotted line is in tune with our expectations? Or, are we plain lazy to react, given the overload of internal muck that is generating all round employment in various departments of the government, and necessitating overtime?

I for one am unable to see why the diplomatic cables leaked by WikiLeaks should perturb the nations and individuals referred to in them. It is human nature to sugarcoat private views for public consumption. We do that all the time in our daily interactions with the world at large. Everyone wears a mask. But for this trait, there will be chaos everywhere. Mankind’s ability to tame its reservations harboured deep inside, giving precedence to the greater public good, is what keeps the world relatively peaceful. Of course there are exceptions – either in the form of antagonistic states or non-state actors. The peace that I qualified as ‘relative’ is courtesy of the minority nature of such exceptions. Not only individuals, countries and groupings of countries do this routinely too.

If anything, the only lesson this episode holds for diplomats and nations is that they should find better and more secure ways to relay their private views if they intend to keep them private.

This particular leak can be plugged with ease and without cause for any alarm. It will definitely not sink our world. Unless, that is, we expect every individual to be honest and true to their conscience. And I don’t see it happening in my lifetime.

Ode to Fyodor Dostoevsky

2010-11-02T17:58:00.002+05:30

I am mesmerised by Fyodor Dostoevsky's stories 'White Nights', 'The Honest Thieft' & especially 'Notes From The Underground'.

They are deeply insightful works whose portrayal of the human psychology demolishes several myths - among them, 'man is a rational being'. They also destroy the assumption that an enlightened self-interest guides man's actions. As Dostoevsky demonstrates, some actions could seem completely senseless and guided solely by 'spite' or a simple spur-of-the-moment exercise of 'free choice'.

It is amazing how he foretells the wars and the emergence of maniacs who will lord over several ethnic cleansing events in the 20th century. Economics and related sciences that rely solely on man's ability to make rational choices end up as unintended victims of Dostoevsky's demolition drive. Dostoevsky's works are a primer on human psychology; and they have left me with a whole new perspective of human actions.

How many times have i wondered why someone did something that seemed to me crazy or suicidal? Now i know!

I eagerly look forward to the delight of reading his longer works soon.

Disbelief, Delight and its Death

2010-10-19T12:53:00.001+05:30

It demanded a willing suspension of an incredibly high degree of disbelief. I obliged without a murmur. Per the documented process for online application for passport, one only had to: a) Fill the form online; b) Print the resultant PDF; c) Fill in a few fields of data by hand; d) Paste photographs and sign at the designated places; e) Attach necessary forms of evidence; and f) Be present at the passport office 15 minutes before the specified time on the day of appointment along with the prescribed payment. There was no need to wait in a queue. Naturally, I was delighted.

Personal experience has taught me that ‘good-to-have’ and ‘I-wish-I-had-it’ are next-door neighbours. The absence of passport in 2003 had cost me an official overseas trip. Not wanting the same fate to befall my sister, I urged her to apply for a passport forthwith via a process that was too simple not to be taken advantage of.

When the search for a slot to park my bike took us all around the building, I considered it a minor irritant in the grand scheme of things. We saw several long queues of people waiting with large bags and water bottles in hand. Wondering why they did not avail the online facility I made my way through the intersecting queues in to the building, sister in tow. The queues were present there too. We went further inside, fully convinced that the counter for accepting online application forms was only a few steps away. I imagined a gentleman waiting for us with expectant eyes and a welcome smile for our appointment at 10AM. We ended up at the Gents toilet. Not letting this perturb me, I approached a person waiting in one of the many queues and enquired where the counter for online application was. He answered with a sarcastic smile that there was no such separate queue. I had to join the club.

Delight died this morning. It departed at 9.50AM.

We explored the various queues from different angles. It left us befuddled for either the beginning or the end of any queue was nowhere in sight. Just as I would reach a point that I thought was the end of a queue, it would suddenly reveal a hidden U-turn that ran along the other side of the wall. It was pure magic and well beyond our human capacity to understand. A call to one of my learned colleagues sealed the fate of our little expedition. The best approach, he explained, is to join the queue (or if lucky, start one) at 6:30 or 7AM for a reasonably quick process. And that means, I can expect to be back home by evening. I brought my sister home, wished her good luck and proceeded to office.

What I still haven’t been able to decipher though (much like the complicated maze-type queues we encountered), is the rationale behind the need for these people to raise my expectation levels to the sky and then force them to come crashing right down to middle earth. Or is it only my naiveté? Just like my sister’s assumption that Shastri Bhavan was simply a larger version of her favourite Saravana Bhavan.

A debate that is passé

2010-09-16T11:19:00.000+05:30

The debate that is raging over who is greater – Nadal or Federer – is pointless. Unfortunately though, it has reached a higher pitch after Nadal achieved a career slam.

While Nadal has now proved his abilities across surfaces with the latest win, Federer has already stamped a deep impression of his talent on the game’s history books that eons may not erase.

What actually matters to us, fans of this beautiful game, is that these two brilliant players lived and played and gave us goose bumps in our life times. The only regret some of us may nurse is our inability to watch them in action from the vantage point of a tennis court. Nevertheless, the exhilaration that we experienced in the exhibition of their individual talents on TV will remain simply unmatched. Who can ever forget their epic battle, also called the 2008 Wimbledon Final?

The stature and greatness of a champion truly grows only when his/her skills are matched against another champion. Beyond doubt, Federer and Nadal owe complete credit for their aura to each other.

Let us also stop to think why we adore our champions in the first place. What is in it for us that makes us rally behind these high achievers? It simply boils down to our shared aspirations. Everyone aspires to achieve something but only few reach the summit thanks to their labour and industry while we mere mortals are hunting for excuses. For instance, I was startled to hear Nadal say on winning the US Open that he plans to get back to practice after a rest of only two days. And here I am, taking a rest every weekend, with the only achievement of five sets of commute to and from office – that is, if you will consider them one!

The hard work behind the success of the champions we adore tells us why we should never rest until we have achieved. But this argument is again a fallacy, for superstars like Nadal and Federer never stop. They go on dreaming for more. They are truly the paragons for those of us who still have the time or the energy left to work on our dreams and aspirations, in any sphere. By raising the bar again and again, these champions demonstrate through their actions that limits exist only inside the mind.

The occasional fall of these champions is a vital moment too, lest we consign to oblivion the fact that they too are human. This is a beautiful cue that everyone can strive for greatness. As Robin Sharma put it succinctly, “Success is simple, but not easy.” How true.

In the final analysis, the longer the array of champions the merrier for us! So, instead of debating who is greater, let us be inspired by them all bearing in mind that it is extremely crucial to have a dream and nurture it to reality with our hard work. Just like these champions do.

Armageddon

2010-09-07T17:09:00.000+05:30

‘Armageddon’ is a truly brilliant historical novel that gave me a whole new perspective to the politico-ideological games that nation states play.

It gives a ringside view of a slice of history and brings it alive. This book is among the first that made me say, “Trash those text books, boys!” Read in classrooms or made part of projects, books like this could make students fully understand what History actually is. And we as a species will begin appreciating our collective national histories much more. There is an urgent need for our education to go beyond the existing superficial reading of history which only concerns itself with a collection of dates, places and names. We need to realise that history is much more than that for us to feel the human stories behind the data.

The book narrates the horrors of the holocaust without ever getting in to too much gory details. This is a substantial feat because though it concerns the immediate aftermath of the Second World War, it does a neat job of retaining its focus.

Leon Uris presents a balanced view of the Germans without either portraying them as all evil or as purely hapless victims of the circumstances and the Nazis which is a coup to pull off.

He also peppers the book with several interesting epithets on life and love that I realized only towards the end of the story and hence missed noting them all down. I wish I had had the presence of mind to do so. Here are a few samples:
• But is not memory always larger than life?
• When you have become very, very old…memories are a sweet drug to soothe the long hours…
• That is the final love. To know the faults and the wrongs of that which you love and go on loving just the same.

Leon Uris is as candid as candid gets with his views of the Russians. But he goes overboard at times and some chapters sound like they are actually a part of a campaign by the west to vilify the Soviets during the cold war. That this book was published then, lends credence to this view. This could also be one reason why an otherwise fabulous book has gone out of print. In the same vein, he does over-glorify the Amis. Either my perception is wrong or there was never a need for the Civil Rights Movement in America!

The book is interspersed with several great love stories and that makes it all the more interesting giving it that human touch and feel. But most of the beautiful love stories end tragically towards the end and in a rush. Why should love always lose at the altar of war? Is this ultimately not a story of hope?

It is a no-brainer to rate this as one of the most important books of our times that must be read and reread so that humanity does not end up condemned to repeat its mistakes.

To abstinence, via epiphany

2010-08-04T18:22:00.002+05:30

‘We The Tweeple’ on NDTV a few weekends back was a riveting show full of interesting exchanges. Thanks to some hilarious anecdotes, it was an absolute treat to watch. It also introduced me to a few prominent ‘Twitterati’, some of whom I have begun following since then.

At around the same time I was at the peak of my social networking! I would visit Facebook & twitter at least 3-4 times a day. There was this compulsive urge to post something – anything at all – everyday even if my mind was as blank as Bertie’s appears to be when he is groping for a particular word in blind alleys until Jeeves comes to his rescue! After scourging through all the posts I would impatiently keep refreshing the page for more updates! Several precious hours were also spent looking for long lost friends and ex-colleagues. Even at office, my thumb will be itching to login to Facebook from my mobile. Thanks to these sites, I could sense a kind of impatience looking over my shoulders when I was reading or doing anything other than social networking.

The bigger worry was a doubt that germinated in my mind: was I turning voyeuristic? I got the sense that I was logging in to these sites just to see what people were up to!

This made me wonder why I ‘tweet’ at all. Or to take a step back, what is the reason behind the uber-success of social networking sites and the ubiquitous ‘status updates’?

The web has no doubt shrunk the world. Information is literally at our finger tips. Be it profound knowledge or paltry gossip, a click can display every single piece of news on our mobile / computer screens. But this web has also turned vicious by shrinking our attention spans. It takes Herculean effort to focus on any one topic of interest for more than a few minutes, whether one is reading about it or discussing it with someone else. The world abounds in distractions that are simply a click away. So why bother sticking to some archaic nonsense and waste time, while you can have it all dished out on a platter?

At office we expend most of our time and energy managing mails. At home the television, internet, PSPs or Wii’s keep us occupied. While driving, we are busy listening to songs / audio books / podcasts. While walking or jogging or working out, the MP3 players rule roost. Even if you do manage to scale these tall, continuous mountain ranges and find the time to read, the iPad and Kindle are out to kill the joy of caressing a book. All this boils down to one fact: the art of listening, as it ought to be, is dead. For most people listening simply means waiting for the other person to finish speaking so they can start. And these posts and tweets have then transformed themselves in to the much-in-demand listening posts and it is not surprising to see people flock to them.

However, I realised that real networking would be a much better deal than this. Why should I be networking with someone on Facebook, when s/he lives a few miles away? So I took a conscious decision to abstain from social networking for a couple of months. And trust me - I can already see a huge difference in the quality of my life. I am reading more and am reading better. I am venturing out more as well. Sloth has disappeared – whereas I would earlier be happy to just sit in a corner staring at my laptop, I now move around a lot more. I have successfully curbed my “impulsive compulsive tweet disorder” too. What is more, I am writing and blogging a lot more these days, even though I have to concede that I am still miles away from the goals that I have set for myself.

But this does not mean that I have disappeared from these sites.

Some of the tweets I receive from certain twitterati are truly informative and helps widen my horizons. They have opened up unknown vistas to me – the numerous websites which are a goldmine of information that I have bookmarked are thanks to these sweet tweets! Linkedin and Facebook help me stay in touch with people from far away.

I have learnt that social networking does serve a purpose and the secret lies in effectively utilising it. As Wilde quipped, “Everything in moderation, including moderation”.

Hide-Seek-Hide-Seek-Hide Bank

2010-07-22T17:59:00.000+05:30

It is not a coincidence that the net-banking site of ICICI Bank is as slow, unresponsive & pathetic as its branch staff. It just shows how entrenched these qualities are in everything that they do.

Whenever I have attempted to login to their site – whether to simply check balances or transfer funds or download a statement – I have had to put up with crazy tantrums and strange error messages. Much like the branch-banking experience they offer.

My every visit to their branch at Nungambakkam has been truly bitter. It begins with the token system that never works: either the token vending machine is down or the very logic of customers being attended to basis the token number is defied. No, this is not a one-off instance when I was victimized. On the other hand, this is an all important rule. And nobody seems to be bothered enough to address it. Instead, I always notice several staff members loitering about aimlessly with a cup of coffee in hand leaving behind vacant service desks that throw cynical gazes at me. But the real ordeal starts only after I successfully surmount these initial odds: any attempt to go beyond the routine transactions (viz. deposit or withdrawal) will invite blank stares and uncomfortable stammers from those experts.

Only to escape this third rate treatment do I turn to net-banking, but that seems intent on plummeting the service levels further. And to compound the situation, ICICI Bank also charges me for services that other banks offer for free: NEFT, Debit Card etc. So why do I put up with this pain, you ask? Well, I have a mortgage to pay off and the day I owe them zilch will be the day I sever all relationships with this awful institution.

Isn’t it amusing how they are obsessed with whether they are a foreign bank or an Indian bank? Truth be told, they are a bad bank – a very bad bank.

The Commitment Conundrum

2010-07-21T15:25:00.000+05:30

As citizens, we generally expect public servants to set high standards. A policeman or an army officer, for instance, is expected to be supremely patriotic no matter what his background or financial condition. We take the liberty to collectively brand such organizations as corrupt or substandard even if the instances of our bitter experiences are isolated at best. And for that matter, we anticipate world-class customer service and personal care when walking into a bank or a showroom or a cinema or a supermarket or even the salon that we are loyal to. The watchman in our apartment is expected to be extremely committed to his work without letting his mind be preoccupied by a sick wife he could not see in the past 36 hours, because the second watchman who was to relieve him did not turn up!

Last weekend, as I was driving, this question arose in my mind: do I deliver the same amount of passion and excellence that I expect from others? This could cover everyone from my customers or colleagues at the workplace to family and friends in the personal sphere. We all have our bad hair days; to some every day is one! I, for instance, can easily attribute my lack of commitment at work to a lousy job, a bad boss, a salary cut, less bonus, a painful commute, difficult coworkers, incompetent team members & what not! At home, I can conjure up an equally long list of excuses for not being loving, caring and forgiving.

But do we realize that those who end up as our service providers are equally human and can have similar reasons for not being perfect? The harsh truth is that it is largely a one-way street. While we relish watching movies in 3D, our perception of reality is mostly unidimensional.

Perhaps, it is time we apply to ourselves the lofty standards that we set for others. Like charity, perfection and commitment too begin at home. Whoever called the world a mirror was truly a genius!

Bibliomania

2010-07-20T17:19:00.000+05:30

Lately I have been gaping at my bookshelf for long stretches of time. And every so often someone caught me in the act it has taken a while for me to come out of the reverie in response to their attempts to draw me out of my own biblio-land! I am used to doing this only when I pick my next read and when I add to my collection. But during the past week, there have been no additions even as I was going steady with ‘Exodus’, ‘The Three Mistakes of My Life’ and ‘Johnny Gone Down’, all neatly arranged on my bedside table.

What kept me hooked was the big question of which books to take along for my imminent trip to Goa. Here’s an “Exclusive Extract” from the seemingly never-ending debate that has been raging inside me.

At a very basic level, I need to decide between fiction and non-fiction. If I opt for fiction, I need to choose from among Classics, Modern Classics, Thrillers and Pulp Fiction. Even under non-fiction, there is a world to choose from: Biography, Autobiography, Travelogue, Science, Philosophy etc. However, zeroing in on a genre – a difficult task in itself – does in no way settle the debate, as I then need to contend with a plethora of titles stacked in my bookshelf.

a) Should I carry a book that is striking enough to evoke curiosity of a fellow traveler to begin a conversation? Or should it be an inconspicuous or mundane title that most people have read? How would a stranger react when he sees me with William Faulkner’s ‘The Sound and the Fury’? Well, wait a second: would the holiday mood not crackle under the varied pressures of the stream of consciousness technique?
b) Will Ernest Hemingway make good company?
c) How about Sherlock Holmes?
d) Will the fast pace of a collection of short stories complement the laidback atmosphere of the vacation?
e) Is the travelogue a better fit as a travel read?
f) Should I resort to the ever reliable great P G Wodehouse?
g) How about supplementing the monsoon rains with some tears that Erich Segal can guarantee?
h) Should I reread any of my favorites like Khaled Hosseini, Jhumpa Lahiri, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie?
i) Why not a Tamil book for a change? I don’t remember ever having carried one during my travels.
j) Finally, how about a dose of vacation-motivation from Robin Sharma?
k) Oh, and how can I not carry a book of lovely poems? Francis Turner Palgrave’s ‘The Golden Treasury’?
l) Would it make sense to go with an open mind and pick up some books from a bookstore at the airport? It will also help grow my library! :p
m) Or is it better to rely on my impulsive choices on the day before departure? To me this seems to be the most likely eventuality given the wide array of choices available and my inability to make up my mind! Even if I do pick some books now, several changes are surely in the offing in the whole week ahead of me!

As I type out these thoughts, here are the titles that reign over my mind-space:
- Mary Ann Shaffer’s ‘The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society’ (the new-born in my library),
- Umberto Eco’s ‘The Name of the Rose’,
- Garcia Marquez’s ‘Love in the Time of Cholera’ (both awaiting the touch of my fingers for over a year now),
- P G Wodehouse (rereading for the nth time – imagining myself laughing out loud in a flight full of passengers!),
- Steve Coll’s ‘Ghost Stories’,
- Shashi Tharoor’s ‘The Elephant, The Tiger and the Cell Phone’,
- Alex Haley’s ‘The Autobiography of Malcolm X’,
- Nehru’s ‘Glimpses of World History’,
- Bill Bryson’s ‘A Short History of Nearly Everything’,
- William Dalrymple’s ‘Nine Lives’ (newest addition to the travelogue category),
- Robin Sharma’s ‘Mega Living’,
- Orhan Pamuk’s ‘Snow’ or ‘The Museum of Innocence’,
- David Davidar’s ‘The House of Blue Mangoes’,
- David Mitchell’s ‘Cloud Atlas’ (rereading),
- Erich Segal’s ‘Acts of Faith’,
- Khaled Hosseini’s ‘A Thousand Splendid Suns’ (rereading),
- Margaret Atwood’s ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’,
- Charles Dickens’ ‘Pickwick Papers’ or ‘A Tale of Two Cities’ or ‘Bleak House’,
- Saul Bellow’s ‘Collection of Short Stories’,
- Francis Turner Palgrave’s ‘The Golden Treasury’,
- ‘Karunkuyil Kunrathu Kolai’,
- Cho’s ‘Koovam Nadhi Karayinile’ and finally,
- William Faulkner’s ‘The Sound and the Fury’.

Oooooo…that’s a long list indeed! I simply can’t wait for the 28th of July to witness the unraveling of this delightful conundrum. May be, I can begin by creating a short list.

Raavanan spells Terror

2010-06-21T17:43:00.000+05:30

No, I am not referring to the fearsome protagonist of Mani Ratnam’s latest but to the movie’s impact on its audience. I was a victim of one such harrowing show last weekend and simply cannot resist the impulse to vent my emotions. Call it a rant or call it a lament but you can’t deny that I am being honest.

The great expectations I had from Mani Sir were belied from the very beginning. What followed was a reaffirmation of that initial impression, which I put up with only because of the exorbitantly priced ticket (Rs. 200) and the distance of over 65KMs that I covered to catch it on screen at Mayajaal.

This movie is peppered with caricatures as an apology for characters. And there are too many of them in what looks like an attempt to recreate Ramayana in all its multiple hues. Vikram & Priyamani have just reprised their earlier roles which brought them critical acclaim: while Vikram takes over from where he left in Anniyan, Priyamani does the same to her role in Paruthiveeran. That Prithiviraj did not show an iota of emotion at the loss of his wife, and even after he finds her, looked bizarre – height of underplaying? Vayapuri as Soorpanakai is interesting but were Karthik & Prabhu necessary at all? At least their characters could have been enriched a little more rather than leaving them hopping around doing monkey tricks or eating & drinking all the time. They only end up as a parody of Hanuman & Kumbakarnan in Ramayana! I’m not even asking what Ranjitha was doing in the movie. All these caricatures have made effective contributions towards muddling the focus on the story & total annihilation of the plot.

Talking about the story, it lacked depth and was very superficial! Just like the characters. And which is so unlike Mani Ratnam! In what is an indication that the doyen of dialogues, Sujatha, is already being missed, the dialogues in this movie were utterly childish! Why this excessive & petulant repetition of the variants of ‘14’? What is the fun then, in denying that this is after all a modern retelling of Ramayana?

At best, Raavanan makes for a great documentary showcasing the astounding beauty of the hills where it was shot. However, cinematography alone cannot save a movie.

There were a bunch of frontbenchers in the audience who kept passing loud (and lewd) comments throughout the movie. While it was pretty upsetting initially, these comments were the only thing that kept me entertained for most of the movie. And they were thoughtful enough to give a wakeup call to the audience when the movie came to an end finally. Thanks for that guys!

Success Ain't Final

2010-06-18T11:19:00.000+05:30

I was listening to Robin Sharma’s ‘The Greatness Guide’ while driving to work today – something that has become a morning ritual, ever since I bought the CD a couple of months ago. Redundant as it may sound, this is now one big motivator in my life with valuable lessons and insights that I find fit to apply to various areas of my life, both personal and professional. Little wonder then that I play it in a loop, lest the messages vanish from my mind.

To digress a bit, even though his ‘The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari’ impressed me instantly years ago, it is only after ‘The Greatness Guide’ that I have begun to look up to him as my ‘Guru’ – of course, with a blatant disregard to his personal dislike to being labeled one.

Here’s the point I want to make. One of the early chapters is titled ‘Nothing Fails, Like Success’. He talks about organizations that have forgotten those important elements in their business that made them successful, as soon as they reached the summit and how this leads to their downfall. He talks about a Café where he experienced this first-hand. And last weekend, I had two such experiences in a day that drove home the truth of his maxim.

First up was Archies at the newly built Ampa Mall. I reached the place at 10, an hour earlier for my movie and decided to spend some time checking out the shops. I was just pushing the door open when a youngster leapt out of nowhere and stopped me in my efforts. He curtly told me that the shop is closed, which was still fine with me, because it was my mistake to overlook a ‘Closed’ sign on the very door that I was trying to open. But he didn’t stop at that. He pushed the door back on me forcefully and made me take evasive action to avoid being hurt. This was akin to chasing me out of the shop and I naturally felt terrible.

The day ended with another bitter experience, this time at one of our favourite dining places in the city – New Yorker. It is a favourite primarily because it is Vegetarian. And it has a wide range of delicious cuisine. But it had been a long while since I had been to this place, until this fateful Saturday. We chose this place since we found it unusually empty for a Saturday night and we know from experience that the other restaurants of our choice, like Cream Center (yummy food + excellent service) & Kailash Parbat (great food + manageable service levels) will be overflowing with the weekend crowd. When my wife and I happily settled down in a large sofa that was too big for just the two of us, neither of us had any inkling of what was to come. First, the bearers were few & shabbily dressed, to mirror their aged furniture. The plates they gave us were stained, most likely from the last meal – and the replacements they gave me on request were equally bad. The roti that I ordered came in a basket that had stains of some curry – which, again, I suspect was from its last duty. We couldn’t digest anything we attempted to eat. Not wanting to spoil what was otherwise a beautiful day, we left the restaurant paying the bill and feeling guilty to leave behind a lot of the food untouched.

It was thus, that two of my favourite business establishments had lost me as their customer, all in a day! And I just can’t help sympathizing with them for letting success become their failure. My Guru, as is always the case, is spot on!

Chilling, Ominous Aur Apposite - Hear the Warning Bells Toll

2010-05-23T15:55:00.000+05:30

Watching LSD on DVD (original, mind you!) this morning was a poignant experience that left me ruminating. Let me skip the well-known facts about this movie as also the well-deserved eulogies for its famed director. What struck me was how the unique cinematography betrayed a sense of news reports being played out in front of my eyes!

Criminal acts have become so common these days that not finding any reported in a day’s paper is akin to a larger-than-life-south-Indian hero staying away from ‘punch’ lines. Barring the occasional “tch...tch…tch”, I read most such news reports impassively. I reckon it holds good for most of us. It could be because these news reports stick to facts (real ‘and’ concocted) and are always sans emotions.

So when Dibakar brings three such “news reports” to life and infuses them with the blood of emotions, one just can’t continue being impassive anymore. It transforms our worldview and heralds a brand new perspective to reading news and shapes how we react to what we read.

That the camera has come a long way since it was invented is well chronicled. But lately, it has become so ubiquitous that the unintended consequences of its omnipresence have had sweeping ramifications on the way we lead our lives. At everyplace where most of our living hours are spent, we have to encounter the brutality of this seemingly innocuous device. At public places it goes by the name of CCTV camera and they say it works for our safety. Inside shops, the same CCTV camera ensures the safety of the assets of the private establishment. Cameras crowd most places – like offices, traffic junctions, malls, railway stations, hotels – the entire urban space, in short – in their various avatars that city slickers just cannot hide from them anymore. If this were not enough, we also have to contend with its application in the realm of the secretive! Rightly then, Dibakar makes the Big Brother of our times, the protagonist of his movie.

I also loved the way Dibakar beautifully ties up the three stories giving them a sense of time and making them all contemporaries.

Call it an ode to the camera or the sound of warning bells! Any which way, we better take notice and realize that the bells toll for us.

The Dea(r)th of Tolerance

2010-02-27T15:26:00.001+05:30

From what i have read in the papers, especially in letters to the editor, l'affaire M F Hussain seems to have polarised public opinion in India with equally strong and vocal groups arguing for and against Hussain's. But I believe he is safe and free outside India, not because i am against his return, but because the atmosphere in our country only stifles every artist's creativity.

Here's my take:

If someone is not happy with the paintings, all they have to do is to not look at it - there is no point in aping another culture which issues fatwa at the drop of a hat. Tolerance, debate & dialogue are the hallmarks of a civilized mind and not vandalism, threat & intimidation. Any creative artist is bound to take a position on various issues or ... See Moreaspects of the society and culture. He can't forever tread the middlepath which is what ordinary mortals do. Neither can his creativity be at the mercy of mindless goondas. That the government of the largest democracy on earth can't take action against the antisocial elements involved in this episode is a national shame. Unfortunately, these are the same guys who have threatened Sachin, Shah Rukh et al. But this blatant inaction of a so called 'secular' government over such a long period of continued 'war' on creative freedom (& in some instances, Patriotism) is shocking to the core! Message is clear: 'Either you tow the line of every regional satrap competing for cheap publicity or find some other place outside this country to display your creativity, for we care no more for you!'

Aamir Khan says that only actors popularize film songs

2010-02-19T15:37:00.003+05:30

If what is being attributed to him in the media is true, Aamir is wrong for once - there are numerous songs that I like, despite never having seen the visuals; lyricists & musicians contribute the most to every song.

There are bad songs that are given a fresh lease of life by good actors, choreographers or cameramen, but that is akin to artificial life support which can at best be temporary. Such songs fade away from our memory sooner.

In a land of famous composers and legendary songwriters, this statement is unbecoming of an unquestionably great actor and creative artist.

Who's to blame?

2010-02-08T15:50:00.002+05:30

Jug Suraiya's 'Unaffordable God' appearing alongside Murali A Raghavan's 'Good Times, Bad Times: What's The Difference?' in the Edit page of the Times of India issue dated 2nd December 2009, combined well to make for an interesting read, especially because both present diametrically opposing views.

Jug Suraiya’s ‘Unaffordable God’:
http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/articleshow/msid-5288867,prtpage-1.cms

Murali A Raghavan’s ‘Good Times, Bad Times: What’s The Difference?’:
http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/life/spirituality/speaking-tree/Good-times-bad-times-whats-the-difference/articleshow/5288326.cms

While one accuses God for all ills, the latter goes beyond defending the same entity and puts things in a refreshingly positive light where the world is doing pretty good after all! Such diverse views appearing together are a true delight for every discerning reader.

However, one can't help sharing Jug Suraiya's angst over our wily politicians misusing religion for their personal ends leaving behind only filth and squalor for the masses. We as a nation will be better served if we realize this sooner, rather than await God's promised intervention.

L’Affaire Tiger Woods

2010-02-05T18:03:00.000+05:30

The media has been exploiting Tiger Woods's personal crisis to the hilt.

What is most irksome is the air of self-righteousness that pervades almost all the stories. Of course, the media has every right to dissect the monstrous celebrity image it created in the first place, but the least it can do is to show some respect for the sensibilities of those involved and the audience at large.

Social Evil

2010-02-05T17:53:00.001+05:30

Here’s yet another timely article that I came across last month, in The Hindu:

http://www.hindu.com/2010/01/12/stories/2010011255100900.htm

My heartfelt thanks are due to Mr. Krishna Iyer for giving voice to something that worries most of us no end. Forget prohibition, what makes it unreasonable is the governmental ownership! Besides, these TASMAC shops are almost always setup at residential localities or highly traffic prone roads, making them a big source of public nuisance for the whole society.

I fervently hope that his earnest plea does not fall on deaf ears which at present are blinded by profit motives, to the harsh realities of this social evil.

DIY

2010-02-05T16:18:00.001+05:30

Came across an interesting article in TOI last month:

http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/home/opinion/edit-page/Do-it-yourself-India/articleshow/5437820.cms

This hits the proverbial nail bang on target. And to add to the list of DIYs, I have read of a popular group of individuals in Chennai that attends to pot-holed roads which the government has no time to fix. We can be sure that more such DIY enterprises abound in our country that seems to be running not because of the government, but despite it, which is again quite a wonder because civic sense is something that a large majority of the Indian public has not even heard of!

Let us hope that the powers that be can at least understand the article, since it is unlikely that they will feel sufficiently ashamed ever to act on it.

From Physical Fitness to Fiscal Fitness

2010-02-05T14:36:00.002+05:30

How an inversely proportional relationship between Physical Fitness & Fiscal Fitness, circa 2010, heightened my interest in the state of the global economy

The year 2009 began with my resolution to walk daily and keep physically fit. And I ended the year a step ahead thanks to my decision to take membership in a fitness center in September. My walk to Physical Fitness has thus turned out to be a truly heartwarming (at least to me) story.

However, I faired very poorly when it came to my other goal (again of 2009) of achieving a decent level of Fiscal Fitness. My goal was to end the year with a bank balance equal to at least three times my monthly salary. But I am nowhere near that goal, having struggled really hard to retain the lone deposit that I hold (that rare stroke of fortune last year). That I received a pay cut and peanuts instead of bonus last year did not help my cause either. And the irony in this whole affair is that, becoming physically strong left me fiscally weak to a considerable extent.

No wonder then that I have begun 2010 with the goal to achieve the same level of fitness fiscally, that I achieved last year physically. But ominous signs right at the start of the year are keeping my hopes on tenterhooks.

It all depends on whether this recession is ‘V-shaped’ or ‘W-shaped’. And I have never followed the economy so closely, ever before!

The Federer Express

2010-02-01T19:21:00.001+05:30

It is a delight to watch Roger Federer play like he plays almost always. His ostensibly effortless style, which sustains a seemingly endless victory streak, is a heady mystery to us, ardent Federer fans.

Some statistics from the just concluded Australian Open 2010, strike me on the face: Federer is placed 9th in the list of Ace Leaders, 18th in the list of Serve Speed Leaders and does not even feature in the Top 20 list of Serve Percentage Leaders. But, he is ultimately the undisputed Champion! How he does that is a mystery that even Sherlock Holmes might find not so elementary after all. And what makes it all the more intriguing is the fact Federer keeps repeating this class act time and again. There is no single aspect in his style of play that I can attribute as his strength or weakness. He just seems to have been born with that natural panache to marshal different kinds of skills to meet the demands of any situation.

While reflecting on all his accomplishments leading up to the Australian Open 2010 win yesterday, I was flummoxed by another facet: his extraordinary consistency in winning. To have won 16 Grand Slam titles is in itself a mind boggling achievement. But the true glory of his talent romps home when one considers that all Grand Slam tournaments wear a knock-out format. This speaks volumes about his ability to maintain a winning streak unfazed by all that goes on around him: starting with the kind of demands that the sporting calendar has, some extremely tough competitors like Nadal, Djokovic, Murray, Roddick, Cilic and Hewitt, a few giant killers on the prowl like Del Potro, Soderling, Davydenko, Tsonga and Monfils, the unimaginable strain of extreme expectations from his fans, and most importantly, an unending stream of criticism from his detractors.

To have overcome all these odds to achieve so much and still maintain a remarkable hunger for more is what, in my view, takes the crown. And mind you, he also has to his credit, innumerable titles from other tournaments which demand a commitment of equal magnitude, if not more.

If he loses occasionally, it is only to prove to us lesser mortals that he is human too. Without a doubt, Roger Federer’s name is immortally etched in the annals of Tennis glory, and there might well be no match for him for eons to come.

When I back Federer in a game, I do so with the firm conviction that there is a whopping 80% probability that he will win. Isn’t that reason enough to support him, so I get to share in the ecstasy of his victory?

Road Rash – Fear Factors

2009-11-06T16:50:00.002+05:30

The brutal irony is hard to ignore. It was with big dreams and great expectations that I purchased a car in the summer of 2006. Not even in my worst nightmares had I imagined that I would one day hate driving, so much so that it now pains even when someone else drives. But when I ruminate, the reasons are not difficult to find. This is an attempt to list down the top few fear factors.

I am extremely allergic to the species of drivers that makes a living out of switching lanes. And worse, these fellows almost always approach this activity with reckless abandon. If collisions are avoided, credit is entirely due to the extra-sensory perception skills of the other drivers.

Next are those specimens who do not like stopping at the red signal. Worse, they bully those waiting ahead of them until they join their ‘jump-the-signal-forum’ in total exasperation.

And here’s one that I encounter too often: auto-rickshaws plying at snail’s pace on the middle of narrow roads blocking way for all other vehicles. I have seen a lot of bikers too indulge in this pastime. They also have elite company from bus drivers who resort to the same technique when stopping at bus-stops – they stop so wide off the allotted area that they can put Agarkar bowling at the death to shame.

I can never get rid of the nightmares caused by the innumerable road bullies who drive with the high beam on and with an express intent of blinding those coming from the opposite direction. These are the same fellows who try to overtake you when you are sure that there is not an inch of space to forfeit without entailing an immediate visit to the garage. A good number of such drivers resort to frequent and non-stop honking for no rhyme or reason.

Let me digress for a while: riding a bike too invites a lot of unanticipated challenges from time to time. Most common is the one literally thrown by some drivers who are ahead of you – they spit callously while driving and whether or not you escape a collision with that ‘flying-fluid’ is entirely dependent on your ability to perform Matrix-like stunts on the bike.

Getting back on track, the lack of civic sense and regard for others is in ample evidence in those who park their vehicles erratically or at ‘No Parking’ zones. This also includes two-wheeler riders who resort to the side stand even when it inconveniences the person parking their vehicle beside. I am astounded by the number of such poor souls that is so hard-pressed for time!

Let us assume that an accident does take place. After the damage is done, irrespective of whose mistake it is, propriety is always conspicuous by its absence when two drivers argue over even minor mishaps. This is a thoroughly disgusting trait that is spreading like a deadly virus of late, thanks to the maddening traffic space.

One also comes across several ingenious drivers who beat the traffic by driving on the wrong side which only results in a gridlock on both sides of the road. I strongly feel that these guys must be put in charge of the planning commission for their terrific foresight.

Ergo, a pat on my back will definitely not be out of place for having escaped with only minor hiccups till date. And I hope this streak of luck continues.

Though I never seem to run out of complaints when it comes to roads, I can’t help feeling that rash and negligent driving denotes lack of respect for, a) the rule of law, b) fellow road users, and c) self as a law abiding citizen. On the same note, every two-wheeler rider, with more than 1 pillion rider, exhibits an absolute contempt for the lives of his co-passengers.

What to say about those eco-friendly types who take their car for even short distances that are easier covered by walk or in a bike? They are also part of the tribe that ensures poor maintenance of the vehicle so as to contribute to the rising air and noise pollution. And some drivers are not contended with harassing fellow drivers. They indulge themselves in bullying pedestrians too!

Will we motorists ever realize that only humility and kindness are manifestations of true strength?

Strange

2009-11-01T21:25:00.002+05:30

Why would someone, who said "The world is a fine place and worth the fighting for and I hate very much to leave it", commit suicide? Ernest Hemingway, the fine writer that he is, did just that! Very strange, isn't it?

Misplaced Austerity

2009-10-19T16:32:00.001+05:30

Egged on by the publicity generated during its own sporadic austerity drive, the government has now taken upon itself the burden to lecture the private sector on the need for an austere CEO compensation. However, instead of wasting its time and effort on ventures like capping CEO compensation and administering mobile tariff, it would do well to remind itself of its core deliverable: provide social security for the poor by effectively utilizing the taxpayers’ money. Needless to add, at present, the only purpose that the taxpayers’ money seems to be serving is to fill the pockets of our illustrious politicians elected to power.

CEOs are accountable to multiple stakeholders while those wielding political power are aware that the anti-incumbency factor will return them to the pedestal for every alternate 5-year terms. This gives them the wherewithal to single-mindedly focus on wealth creation (for themselves only) during their 5 years in power and live life king-size during the next 5.

It is a shame that despite being fully aware of the citizens’ angst, thanks to ample media coverage of such sentiments, they continue to strut around with total disregard. No wonder then that every tax-payer’s heart bleeds on seeing their hard-earned money squandered on everything but the development of our nation and its infrastructure.

Indian Railways to the aid of ailing airlines

2009-10-01T18:17:00.001+05:30

In their time of distress, the ailing airline companies of India have found an unlikely saviour in Indian Railways. That the ill effects of recession and the consequent decline in air travel need not have bothered the airline companies, contrary to what media falsely propagates, was something that I discovered during my recent train journey to Coimbatore.

Self was proceeding to Ooty with wife and had booked 3rd AC tickets expecting minimum comfort at a reasonable cost. My heartbeat raced the moment I realized that we were allotted berths very next to the door of the compartment. To compound my condition further, I was allotted the lower-side berth while my wife settled in to the middle berth opposite. The door would not close fully resulting in a constant din and of course a steady stream of light that underscored my presence to everyone who bothered to look. Whenever opened, the door squeaked loud enough to wake me up – but I found a non-stop queue of visitors passing through the door and I hope you know what that means. Well, you must have been expecting this: the compartment stank thanks to the superbly maintained toilets (though part of the blame falls on some passengers who are yet to learn how to use one). Best of all was the company we had: an intrusion of cockroaches having a field day right there. Realizing that my athletic skills to shock and awe them were only of limited help, I resigned to my fate and learned to live in harmony with these creatures which left an unforgettably bitter taste in my tongue.

With Mamata-di’s cohorts waging a determined war against all my senses, I took the sensible decision to cancel my return ticket and traveled by air instead. Though expensive, this option saved me from all the pain of the onward journey besides crashing the travel time to insignificance. This despite the fact that the no-frills flight served only a very minute bottle containing a sample of some liquid that was labeled water!

Did I hear someone say that the Indian Railways is competing with domestic airlines? On the contrary, it is their only saviour!

The Halal Hypocrisy

2009-09-28T12:24:00.002+05:30

I have been thinking of this for some time now: if someone is so concerened about cruelty to our fellow creatures, why eat them at all - halal or jhatka? There seems to be no end to our hypocritic ways!

Piloting Their Own Cause

2009-09-27T12:38:00.003+05:30

News of the pilots of Air India going on strike, just when the passengers and other stakeholders including the management, ground staff and cabin crew are recovering from the after effects of a long drawn and dramatic strike by the pilots of Jet Airways, is disheartening to say the least. A pampered lot of pilots resorting to such methods at the drop of a hat while most of the salaried class goes through a perennial struggle to make ends meet is a terrible shock to our sensibilities. It is high time the regulator intervenes and sets the house in order by regulating the pay structure of the pilots and brings some semblance of sense. The nation would be better served this way than by the government expending its energy warring with the IITs, IIMs et al.

Jet Airways Pilots' Strike

2009-09-27T12:35:00.002+05:30

Amid the entire hullabaloo surrounding this episode, the efforts of Jet Airways and its ground staff in aiding stranded passengers seems to have been completely ignored.

I traveled from Chennai to Mumbai on 8th September – the 1st day of the strike. I am extremely fortunate that my flight was only delayed by two hours. However, my return flight on 10th September was cancelled. Jet Airways sent me an SMS at about 3PM confirming this. When I called their customer service, I was asked to report three hours before the originally scheduled departure time for them to put me on another flight. I did and they flew me to Chennai by a Jet Lite flight that departed at 6PM. The ground staff and the cabin crew were both composed & caring despite the drama around them. And the flight had only 11 passengers in all that showed Jet’s commitment to fly us despite negligible occupancy which would surely have added to its already ballooning losses.

Irrespective of which of the disputing parties are right, I think it would be prudent to highlight the entire gamut of experiences that the passengers of Jet have experienced instead of highlighting just one aspect as is being done in the media.

CCTP Has Plenty to Confuse

2009-07-18T11:28:00.004+05:30

While waiting at the Poonamallee High Road-Nelson Manickam Road junction on my way to office yesterday, was surprised to see two signal timers staring at me. Interestingly both kept different times. Is this a problem of plenty or is the CCTP trying to confuse motorists due to its inability to convince them?

PS: The photo has not come out well though, despite my best efforts to deploy all my photography skills to capture it on my E71.

PGW - An Adorable Author

2009-05-30T11:22:00.001+05:30

One will scarcely be able to understand what it means when an author is described as ‘adorable’ – of course with reference to the writing, not looks. For instance, it is easy to ‘see’ why one will call Jhumpa Lahiri adorable and not VS Naipaul. But ‘adorable’ is precisely the term that strikes me repeatedly when I read P G Wodehouse. The charm of his style and the innocence that oozes in his characters are unbelievable feats. It seems to me that I will never be able to get enough of PGW. All his books still shower me with the same unbridled joy that I first experienced reading him years ago! He will remain forever the greatest writer I have ever read and the one I most aspire to imitate. He is also the only writer whose talent I envy! There can never be another PGW.

'Pasanga' - Little Rascals

2009-05-27T18:49:00.003+05:30

‘Pasanga’ seems to me to be the Indian version of ‘The Little Rascals’; fortunately, Pandiraj (the director) has taken adequate care to sidestep the ghastly blunders that remakes, especially those from Hollywood, usually suffer at the hands of Indian directors. It is a thoroughly enjoyable movie and a must watch for both kids and parents.

The performance of almost all the lead actors is natural and the kids especially are adorable. Also interesting to me is the typical southern Tamil dialect employed – I did learn quite a bit! The cinematography is accurate, with the small town setting brought to life in all its vividness. Pandiraj has also realistically captured the day-to-day occurrences in typical family & school settings – which is a rarity because, usually, in our movies the school/college scenes are ruined to the hilt by portraying teachers as jokers and this is thankfully not the case here. This truly is the biggest ‘comic relief’ aspect! Pandiraj has also conveyed his messages very subtly to kids and parents. Most importantly, the humour in this movie is pleasant and sans double entendre. Overall, it is a “century on debut” by Pandiraj and a treat for the entire family.

However, the love story was a drag on the proceedings. Especially the ring-tone-romance sequences, though enjoyable at the initial stages ended up being a drawn out bore due to excessive employment. Pandiraj should have also kept the movie a little short – the length weighed on me rather heavily as I left the cinema.

PS: Talking of Hollywood remakes, I was rather shocked last week to see the striking resemblance between 'Father of the Bride' and 'Abiyum Naanum'. Willing to share the source of inspiration, Radha Mohan?

A Tale of Passions

2009-05-02T13:17:00.002+05:30

“My Name Is Red” by Orhan Pamuk is an amazing book. It is a tale of many passions: passion for painting, style, loyalty, love & more importantly Pamuk’s passion for the history of the art of painting in Turkey. Without a doubt, it is a must read for anybody who is in to serious reading. Though the detailed descriptions of painting seemed a bit tedious in the initial pages, soon I got involved in it; which goes to show how much an artist would love reading this book which is part-thesis on miniaturist painting. A fulfilling read that has me looking forward to more of Pamuk’s writing. ‘Istanbul’, from my bookshelf, is already inviting me!

These phrases from the book beautifully convey a profound message: “…it seemed to me that the entire world was like a palace with countless rooms whose doors opened into one another. We were able to pass from one room to the next only by exercising our memories and imaginations, but most of us, in our laziness, rarely exercised these capacities, and forever remained in the same room.”

Anything else that I add is going to be redundant.

Style sans substance

2009-04-20T15:27:00.009+05:30

Watched ‘Ayan’ on Saturday night at Satyam. It made me wonder how acclaimed directors end up making incredibly bizarre blunders.

Take Gautham Menon for instance. He burst in to the scene with a bang in ‘Minnale’. I’ve watched this movie several times but am yet to detect even a minor gaffe. Fortunately, he followed it up with a string of very good movies: ‘Kakka Kakka’, ‘Vettayadu Vilayadu’ and ‘Pachaikili Muthucharam’. That is, until he messed it all up in ‘Vaaranam Aayiram’. Why one would want to voluntarily blemish his own impeccable record remains inexplicable to me.

KV Anand had a big reputation to guard after his debut movie ‘Kana Kandein’, but has gone ahead and displayed a similar suicidal tendency in ‘Ayan’. It is a stylishly made movie, no doubt. The cinematography is immaculate. Performances by most of the lead actors are very good. But then, these alone don’t make a movie – good or bad. What happened to the story? An already convoluted plot is revisited multiple times, in the course of this long movie that (a) put me to sleep and (b) gave wake-up noises, in turns. (The wake-up noises are courtesy an avoidably loud BGM by Harris Jayaraj, who fails to impress in the songs either.) Anand aggravated my pain further by frequent re-cap of certain scenes, which he must have thought were important. In the process, he demonstrates his view that the Tamil audience is dumb and requires everything to be explained in black-and-white. Somebody remind him of another species called the ‘intelligent audience’! Whatever little admiration I had for Tamannah is lost now too.


Powered by: Chakpak.com	Ayan

My guess is that Anand originally set out to make a stylish flick à la Hollywood movies that boast of a well-paced storyline of cross-border conspiracy coupled with twists and turns, but lost his way by muddying the waters himself. Besides, by keeping the movie long, he has displayed scant regard for the sensibilities of the movie-goer.

When the item song came, Arjun was curious to know what purpose it served! I comforted him by putting things in perspective - when the whole movie looks meaningless, why bother about one song!

All these mean that ‘Kana Kandein’ will remain Anand’s magnum opus for sometime to come and I will be really wary of watching his next movie. But I wish him better luck next time…!

PS: I felt so numbed when sitting through this rigmarole called a movie that the option of walking out never occurred to me; I still regret my inertia for the headache that this movie gave me, ruined the entire weekend.

Ayanavaram's budding Warren Buffet

2009-04-16T21:09:00.007+05:30

Came across this amusing flyer last weekend - a brazen attempt to feed on our greed. If you think you have what it takes, goahead and make that call - now!

Please click on the images to enlarge.

It is the season of déjà vu...

2009-04-15T16:16:00.002+05:30

It is the season of déjà vu - a time when forgotten commitments are rehashed and improvised; a time when the race for one-upmanship renders old records obsolete; a time when the foot-in-mouth disease affliction of the entire political class comes to the fore and shows how widespread a malaise it is; a time when a thousand stirring promises are heaped on hapless voters; a time when the voters are spoilt for choice, to opt for the least of the evils facing the ballot; a time when dirty politics, as it is usually called, turns dirtier by the minute; a time when pre-poll alliances are formed knowing full well that they are irrelevant in a post-poll scenario; a time when political ideologies and policy stands are over shadowed by bitter personal vilification campaigns; a time when communal passions are stoked to divide and win votes; a time when I sympathize with every genuine voter in the world’s largest democracy for not having the option to exercise a negative vote to kick all the laggards out of the poll scene altogether! Isn’t it harsh on us when they go on saying that we deserve the leaders we get?

Lunch with friends @ Barbecue Nation

2009-04-12T18:59:00.002+05:30

My first visit to Barbecue Nation on 10th April will be remembered
more for the time spent with friends than for the food!

evam..aha!

2009-01-18T14:17:00.006+05:30

Last evening, I had been to Chinmaya Hertiage Centre in Harrington Road to watch Oscar Wilde’s play ‘The Importance of Being Earnest’ staged by the theater group evam. It turned out to be a thoroughly enjoyable and truly memorable evening. I’ve read the play several times in my college days and had also read it once recently, about a year or so back. It is one of the very few plays that resonate with the sort of relevance that is missing from many other plays that I have read. Most plays get caught in a time warp; so much so that your ability to willingly suspend disbelief when it is staged in a different era is tested to the core. While age-old plays only elicit yawns from the audience, I was myself startled to see the whole audience in splits while watching this more than a century-old play yesterday. I had not braced for this at all.

Every actor stole the show. They were all absolutely fantastic and fit the roles perfectly. Minor sore spots were the over exuberance of the lady who acted as Gwendolen and Karthik (as Algy) who seemed a little too casual & cinematic. But the diction was spotlessly clean. There was never a dull moment in the play with everyone playing their roles to near perfection. So much so that when at the end of the play every actor came on stage to take a bow, the loudest applause was reserved for the manservant!

May be they could have avoided the dances – at least the 2nd one. While the 1st dance helped set the mood, the 2nd one only served as a drag on the proceedings. Besides, there was no grace in the 2nd couple’s dance – they were dancing like they were fighting each other. The gentleman who donned the role of Jack Worthing was the most admirable of the lot. His dialogue delivery, amazing range of expressions and the well-timed silence never failed to evoke laughter from the audience. I have never seen an audience enjoy a play so much; not even in the several S. V. Shekar plays that I have watched.

I never got the feeling that Indians were staging an English play. What worked must have been the clean script and a no-nonsense approach to staging the play without an iota of effort to make it look contemporary. The vivaciousness & satire that Oscar Wilde would have loved to see was in ample display. To add to the surprise quotient of the evening, a petite female ascended the stage at the end of the play; she was introduced to the audience as the director! There was a loud silence in the hall which was soon followed by a thunderous applause! The performance could only have been the result of the efforts of a seasoned director, but I was left wondering how she could do it so well! Hats-off to her and all the actors…

Well, I couldn’t help chiding myself for never having been to their plays earlier and have vowed to myself to enjoy their plays at every available opportunity in the future. In fact, I wouldn’t mind watching them enact ‘The Importance of Being Earnest’ again and again! This is a much better avenue to invest time in, instead of slouching inside a movie hall and crying foul on the way back home, which happens with an alarming regularity – almost every time I go to the cinema.

Keep going strong, team EVAM! We need you…

Interested? Check out EVAM @ http://www.evam.co.in/home.htm

An Atrocity & A Response

2008-12-06T17:03:00.003+05:30

I don’t profess to be an expert in conflict studies or South Asian geopolitical history. But I know enough of the sub-continental story to understand what exactly to expect from Pakistan in the light of all the emerging evidence that points accusing fingers on it for being behind the outrageous attacks at various places in our country, especially the latest one in Mumbai. This was one of the most outrageous and atrocious acts of terrorism on Indian soil and intended to evoke maximum shock, which it definitely did. There are only two things that differentiate India from Pakistan – an ever-growing, resilient economy and a flourishing democracy. No wonder then that the terrorists deviously designed to destroy both these identities that their failed state has never been able to even dream of. Anyway, Pakistan is a sad story of one man’s dream gone awry. I still wonder how the story of this subcontinent would have evolved had Jinnah been sensible enough to desist from falling prey to the divide-and-rule policies of the British. I can surely bet that this place would have been the ‘heaven on earth’ that so many intellectuals of the past saw India as! But unfortunately for us, communal and caste questions preceded everything else by the time independence dawned on our nation.

In this hour of strife and crisis, I was pleasantly surprised to note the calibrated reactions of our political class, which at times sounded (unbelievably though) statesmanlike! This restraint in the face of extreme provocation makes sense because there is absolutely nothing that can be achieved through war between two nuclear-armed states, and with one of them at the mercy of infamously roguish elements within. Leaving aside the ritualistic, meaningless & repeated assertions of the powers that be that ‘India cannot be cowed down’ and ‘strong action will be taken’ etc. it is nevertheless a sign of their political maturity in not playing in to the hands of the terrorists, by not taking an overtly aggressive posture against Pakistan. As the world has seen, no military adventure as a response to terrorism yields results – Afghanistan and Iraq are fine examples of how short-sighted misadventures of the US backfired.

At the same time, some actions of our political leaders seem very naïve – how can one expect the US, one of the most selfish, short-sighted, bigoted and hypocritical nations on earth, to do what is right? Condoleeza Rice’s statements full of double standards, during her trip to India and Pakistan in the aftermath of the terrorist attack are apt examples of how the US typically behaves. Who can forget the way its sham was exposed in the standoff involving Georgia and Russia over South Ossetia. Let us make no mistake in understanding that the US will go to any length to achieve its selfish intentions, with no concern for diplomacy and self-respect. Despite having observed this several times, I really wonder why our leaders got so much excited over an US official’s inconsequential visit. The same goes with Israel, which is a sort of backyard for the US.

Instead of being drawn in to such political games, India will do better to build a strong case against Pakistan and table it to the sensible part of the world community which can still digest the truth. This will take a long time to fructify, but it surely will and when it does, even the US can remain silent or defend Pakistan only at the cost of losing whatever is left of its own self-respect. Since this attack has yielded a lot of evidence to prove Pakistan’s involvement, India should not wait for another such opportunity to pass this over and invest well in strategic moves and work with all sensible partners to make the world realize that turning Pakistan around is in everybody’s interest.

The angst that these acts of terror have caused among Indians is palpable and certainly justified. But what differentiates a country which aspires to be a great power is the way it utilizes this energy. This is the time to beef up internal security and do all it takes to make every citizen feel safe and secure in this country. Worries over cricket matches not taking place and tourism being on the wane are entirely misplaced. Instead we should leave no stone unturned in our efforts to make India ‘heaven on earth’. I am sure that we have the capability to do so, but are our political class willing? I am not too sure given the political bickering that followed the attacks. But we have no option but to remain hopeful. And the significance of a citizens’ movement that can make our leaders see sense cannot be downplayed.

I also hope that the overtly aggressive posture that some organizations in India (of course, including the media) have taken tones down and our people do not lose faith in democracy. A dictatorship that many voices are clamouring for is not a solution, but the very source of all our problems from the neighbourhood. The media should only portray stories that inspire instead of blowing trivial things out of proportion – like Ram Gopal Varma accompanying Vilas Rao Deshmuk in his visit to Hotel Taj Mahal, the dogfight that a chief minister indulged in etc.

And finally, the citizens too should contribute to the cause of the country. Agreed, the appalling infrastructure and civic conditions are not too inspiring. But are we not guilty of destroying whatever meager development efforts that the state has invested in? We need to realize that our lack of civic sense and disrespect for rules (something as simple as jumping a signal or spitting in public places, for instance, is testimony to this) is completely suicidal and a recipe for anarchy. This is the time to reflect on all aspects of our everyday lives and make corrections wherever required, so that another such ghastly grief does not befall our nation.

A Convenient Path

2008-07-27T18:14:00.001+05:30

Ever since I watched Al Gore’s ‘An Inconvenient Truth’, I have been thinking of reducing my carbon footprint. One of the best and easiest ways, it seemed to me initially, was to bicycle to office. Though I am fit enough to do so, our city roads are not! Apart from the fact that they are little more than minor patches of half-tarred surfaces amid innumerable pot holes, they are famed for being pedestrian & cyclist unfriendly. You are at the mercy of the big brothers, when walking or cycling. Why, even motorcyclists are not safe, though not entirely because of others’ faults.

After spending a good four months wondering what to do, and after having tried going by bike to office (which brought back acute backache) I finally hit upon the awesome idea of using public transport. But it turned out to be an idea that was easier conceived than delivered! I dawdled over a month reflecting on this idea. Having got used to the excellent air-conditioned comforts of a car, I was indeed waging a battle against myself to make it to the nearest MTC bus stop.

And I finally won this battle sometime in late May. I managed to step in to a bus on a rather hot Friday morning. Though I had no clue about the fares, stops etc., I was mentally prepared for the initial hiccups. Best of all, a lot of bus routes operate via Maduravoyal. And fortune was on my side. My sister was going to her college for a part-time job assignment by auto and she used to drop me at the NSK Nagar bus stop in the initial 10-15 days. And I got in to an almost empty bus without waiting for even a second on my maiden attempt. Except for the poor suspension in the decades-old bus, I was pretty happy with the journey. A cap was in place to ward off the dust & heat, which are in abundant supply. Soon I realized that the new breed buses come with better suspensions and improved seats.

Though I find that the buses are more crowded since mid-June, (which I realized later was because of the colleges reopening), I am more or less comfortable with this option. Besides, on most evenings, Swami drops me at either Anna Arch or Pachaiyappa’s college. When Dueman bought a car in July, my options have only increased. When I leave early, Swami drops me and when I am late, Dueman does. Things can’t get more convenient. And after more than two months since I made the MTC my preferred mode of transportation, the other day, I was trying to judge (a sort of a balance sheet, you see!) how good this decision has been for me.

Foremost on the credit side is the fact that this has helped me get rid of my guilty consciousness that I am not doing anything to protect Mother Earth. Now I can proudly proclaim that my carbon footprint is nothing compared to that of most of my colleagues (in comparable positions traveling comparable distances). These days, I drive my car for 20-25 KMs per week (mostly on weekends with the family) and my bike for about 10-15 KMs per week to drop and pickup my sister from her weekend classes. This costs me something like Rs. 500 per month. And earlier, I used to spend not less than Rs. 4000 per month on fuel. This helps me contribute to another cause: using expensive & sparse resources efficiently, not to mention the considerable saves on my monthly budget.

Besides, I no more have to worry about aggravating my backache. Spending hours in the hot sun amid stagnant traffic is excruciatingly painful, but thanks to my shift to public transport (henceforth referred to as PT), this has become a thing of the past. Not that there is less traffic on the roads these days: it has only increased. But I only look at such times as opportunities for me to catch up on my reading. I am reading much more these days and also manage to complete whole books in just 2 days sometimes. This was something unthinkable earlier. In the unfortunate event of the book in hand not being up to the mark, I can always rely on the interesting characters that populate our PT to keep me occupied. The always-abusive PT drivers, the partly helpful conductors, the self-righteous elderly gentlemen who bemoan the ways of other drivers or the state of our roads – the list is just endless. You’ve only got to keep your eyes and ears open to catch them all - which I do fairly regularly, whenever I am done with the reading material. And this never fails to bring a smile to my face by the time I get down at Maduravoyal. This also gives me some food for thought during my walks or for my pen in the night.

And to top it all, I get to walk more these days. Talk about healthy options in life! In fact, this is healthy for my vehicles too – need for less maintenance which again translates to reduced expenditure for me. Smiles all around! Well, I almost forgot: my boss is very happy these days. Wondering why? Because I am on time, almost always, excepting for the days on which the traffic is unpardonably gruesome (and when everybody is late). On all other days, I am at office by 9.45. I leave at 9 AM everyday and this has brought a lot of discipline to my morning chores as well. Now I don’t while away time on meaningless activities in the morning. The other reason why my boss is happy is that I have no option of taking a U-turn back to home when the traffic is heavy. I have done this a couple of times earlier and am sure he was not amused. But now I don’t have any choice but to be put up in the PT till it reaches the destination. However, I need to mention that PT’s take far little time to reach my office compared to my own driving time, courtesy the drivers’ excellent maneuvering skills! They can drive with uncanny ease through roads that will put mountain terrains to shame.

Of course, there are some hiccups in the form of dependency. I spend a considerable amount of time waiting for PT (though of late, I read during these times too) and cannot work late for fear of missing the last PT. To some extent, I can address this problem my taking a share-auto. But I detest them from the bottom of my heart. They are in fact worse than the normal auto-rickshaws (which everybody knows is my enemy no. 1 in Chennai). They load, sorry overload, people like they are cattle. And when you think that there is no space in the auto for another soul, in comes another cattle, sorry human. I have never used a share auto and have sworn to myself not to use one ever.

And there is the dust, heat and sweat to contend with. So I have kept a tube of face-wash at office which I use immediately upon reaching. My cap and a bottle of water come in handy to beat the heat. And sweat is a problem for others – not me!

These days, I am the envy of everybody at office. They, including my boss, are feeling bad that they have no option but to drive their cars to office since they live in such places which require changing 2-3 buses.

I had never dreamt that this would happen.

Stopping By My Home On A Hot Evening

2008-07-26T08:37:00.001+05:30

The work is heavy, dark and steep,
But I have family to keep,
Mails to read before I sleep,
Mails to read before I sleep.

A Royal Story

2008-04-06T12:34:00.003+05:30

I have been a long time fan of David Davidar through his columns in the Sunday Magazine section of The Hindu. I used to devour his passages like a hungry lion waiting for its weekly prey. His choice of words was wonderful and his love for books flew through his columns so beautifully. It transformed the booklover in me in to a fanatic! I started buying every title that ever found its way in to his columns.

It was only natural that I bought his ‘The House of Blue Mangoes’ the moment it was published, though I admit having waited for the paperback edition to come out. It is a totally different matter (and a very unfortunate one) that I have not found the time to read it, to this day. It received very good reviews at its time of publication and I have seen it being discussed on numerous occasions since then. But you know how it is: your choice of book to read is a spur of the moment decision depending on the mood and motive. There are several such books languishing in my shelves, yearning for my touch. I hope to satisfy them all some day. To this end, I have begun reading a lot more these days and the preparations for M. A. are aiding me to a large extent.

To return to the subject at hand, I was greatly intrigued by the title of Davidar’s second book, ‘The Solitude of Emperors’. It was a truly captivating title worthy of a second look. And the cover design was absolutely captivating. So, without even waiting for a review, I bought this book too, in an impulse, but this time I didn't wait for the paperback edition! And this book waited in my shelf for sometime, while I read numerous reviews of it. All of them were unanimous in their verdict that the book was good.

Unable to resist any further, I recently picked it up. And it turned out to be a truly memorable journey. Like the protagonist Vijay, who travels from ‘K---‘ to Mumbai to Meham, through a tumultuous series of events in his life and the society around him, I too traveled through a host of emotions. It was one of those rare un-put-down-able works. Though there is a lot of social philosophy and secularism discussed in it, I found them all very interesting. Besides, the heavy subject matter has received the lightest treatment possible. This, to me, is one of the biggest achievements of Davidar. Through Mr. Sorabjee’s manuscript with its stated ambition of making the youth of today understand the true meaning of secularism and to spur them in to action, Davidar has successfully managed to drive home the point. And he does so very beautifully.

The characters that he has portrayed are realistic to the core. Only in the case of Noah, do we find some amount of filmy imagination adding colour. But it too helps in building an eerie persona around the character, which is one of the main reasons why we are entertained by his mere presence and uncertain behavior. Rajan, on the other hand, is down to earth and a true-to-life figure – someone we can see in every politician or aspiring politician. The way Mr. Sorabjee’s script inspires Vijay and his subsequent reactions are brought out very well. In fact, it is to Davidar’s credit that he has ensured that the common ideas of religion and secularism run through the book – from the beginning to the very end.

Finally, Davidar can also take credit for conveying a highly relevant message for our troubled era. Achieving this is no mean task, considering that he steers clear of making any judgement, but remains happy with an objective description of the incidents, while providing fleeting glimpses of some high voltage action, like the one in the Mumbai streets when Vijay comes face to face with mob violence.

All in all, it is a wonderful read and a worthy way to fill your time. It makes you reflect and paints a whole new facet of secularism, that too, from a national view-point. It also gives a good idea of how petty minded and regional religious extremism can shake an entire nation. Having read this book soon after watching the movie ‘Maachis’, I can’t help empathize with Mr. Davidar’s Vijay. And let us not forget to thank him for such a wonderful novel!

This novel has increased my love for Davidar’s work; the only thing that remains now is for me to read his first novel. And I hope to do it very soon!

‘The Guide’, To Writing

2008-03-23T15:19:00.006+05:30

Yesterday, I completed a second read of R. K. Narayan’s ‘The Guide’ and was yet again mesmerized by it. In fact, I felt exactly this way when I read his other novels, including ‘Waiting for the Mahatma’, ‘The Financial Expert’, ‘The Dark Room’, and ‘The English Teacher’, as also when I watched a short film adaptation of his ‘The Vendor of Sweets’. The subtle thread of realism that he has woven through all his stories is what endears me to them. They are the sort of stories and situations that could happen to any ordinary mortal. And the real challenge for R. K. Narayan lay there. But he overcomes such an enormous trial beautifully, through an absolutely lifelike portrayal of everyday circumstances. And ‘The Guide’ is an apt testimony to this talent of his. Though I found this to be the darkest of his stories, it is seeped in realism nonetheless. The varied emotions that Raju goes through and the depths of his mental turmoil have been brought out, the way only Narayan can.

Take for instance the part where Rosie wants Raju to leave them alone, after she has inadvertently spilled the beans to Marco. The way Marco reacts and the emotions that Rosie and Raju go through in the subsequent scenes are superbly realistic. The same holds true with the way Raju’s mother handles the situation when Rosie enters their household. She is torn between emotional extremes and does not have any other support nearby. So, till the time her brother arrives, she astutely manages the ‘affair’ of Rosie by dropping hints at every possible turn, that though she doesn’t explicitly protest Rosie’s presence in the house, it is in everybody’s interest for Rosie to leave. And her complete turnaround the moment Raju’s uncle arrives is nothing short of dramatic realism!

One can go on in the same vein in analyzing the rest of this or any other work by Narayan. But that is not the point I intend to make. My objective is entirely different.

Very recently, I came across the opinions of a couple of ‘eminent’ personalities (writers themselves) who felt that Narayan’s works were of no significance and this hurt me gravely. While I have not read the works of one of them, I am a big fan of the other writer. This only added to my pain. While I steer clear of ‘pulp’ or ‘popular’ fiction, I am otherwise interested in a range of fictional works from old classical literature to good works of recent times; from Chaucer to Shakespeare to Hardy to Joyce to Ayn Rand to Wodehouse to Erich Segal to David Mitchell to Jhumpa Lahiri to DBC Pierre to Chetan Bhagat. I also read a lot of non-fiction, which again spans a wide range of topics. To favor an author, the two deciding factors for me are: a) How good is the story? b) How well is it told? Nothing else matters. Absolutely nothing else!

R. K. Narayan is foremost among my favorite authors who scores on both scales, and how! I read ‘The Guide’ and ‘The Dark Room’ after I had come across these adverse remarks on Narayan. So, I had my critical glasses on while reading them. But, try as hard as I might, I couldn’t fall in love with his works all over again. There was not a single flaw that I came across that really mattered. I have heard some say that his language is simple. But isn’t that how language is meant to be? So that it serves its ultimate purpose of being able to easily convey the message? Does a work increase in value only due to the presence of a few bombastic terms? Come on folks, grow up!

I had just finished reading ‘Voss’ by Patrick White when I took up ‘The Guide’ for a second read. And the differences are stark and enormous! It took me 3 full months to complete ‘Voss’, while I took just 4 days for ‘The Guide’. And mind you, my work-life balance has not seen any drastic shift in the last week! ‘Voss’ is so complicated and unrealistic, though it is such a beautiful love story – of people and landscapes. ‘The Guide’, on the other hand, is such a simple and realistic story; but it is definitely more beautiful than ‘Voss’. There is no grandeur in Narayan’s works. There are no extraordinary scenes and the number of characters that roam his works is at its minimal best. But still, he scores over most others. And the best thing is that, none of his stories lack the kind of depth that you come to look for in the works of great writers.

If you ask me to name my favorite authors, I wouldn’t think twice before naming Wodehouse and Narayan. While the stories of Wodehouse are simple, straightforward ones, when the book ends, you can’t help feeling that you are walking out of a sweet dream. Narayan’s stories on the other hand are down to earth and utterly realistic. As you fold the last page, you end up visualizing that such a story had happened next door (or better still, to you, sometimes!). The only other factor that distinguishes the two is the ample hilarity that abounds in the stories of Wodehouse, which is a grand objective for him; whereas, Narayan is happy with a simple portrayal of the funny sides in real life.

All this has led me to believe in simplicity while writing. A novel is not a puzzle for readers to solve. It is a device which gives the reader pleasure and elevates him. You are entertained. You learn and resolve. You emote with some characters and get purified! Or you end up in convoluted laughter (as it happens with Wodehouse, every time). But just keep it simple!

If this doesn’t satisfy you, may I suggest ‘Midnight’s Children’?

F1 - Chennai Style

2008-03-21T16:53:00.001+05:30

Ask Schumacher which is the toughest track and the instant reply, without as much as a bat of the eyelid, is “Chennai City Roads”.

Well, that’s just an imaginary opener, but I am in no doubt that every road user will agree with me. Our roads have turned me in to a staunch believer in the good ol’ Amby. The moment I get hold of a second hand Amby, I am sure to rule the road. Till then, I have to continue with my membership of the ‘meek drivers club’, scared of all living souls that occupy precious road space.

Just like in F1, the motto of our drivers is to be ahead of all other vehicles – always and at any cost. It is also pertinent to mention that this cost is borne by the member of the meeker species, though for no fault of his. Jumping the signal, overtaking at the turns, blaring horns, swaggering drive styles, blinding high beams are all part of this package. Did I hear someone mention the ‘stop line’? To add to our woes (that is, if we still have the capacity to withstand more!) are the jaywalkers who move around in reckless abandon!

The turmoil just doubles and triples with just a few showers. This is courtesy the immense faith that our corporation retains in the future-ready technology of patch-work when laying roads. To add more spice, we have our world-renowned Autos and the all powerful MTC buses, who are happily blind to all else that may inhabit the roads and make roads where none exist. This is just an (avoidable) extension of the old philosophy: leaving ‘radial prints’ on the sands of time!

Still looking for a saving grace? Save time because there is none to beat our ‘Chennai Super Kings’. Beware!

Chennai – An ‘Auto’-biography

2007-11-09T13:15:00.000+05:30

In Chennai, anybody getting in to an auto resembles a fish out of water; and the fisherman invariably happens to be mad – literally! Therefore, for the newcomer to Chennai, this auto routine always leaves its mark as THE ride of her/his lifetime! And your perception of autos is never the same again. Having been in Chennai for almost two decades, it is natural for you to expect me to be used to their antics. But our auto drivers never cease to shock-and-awe me. Some times, I am left gaping (with my mouth wide open in direct competition to Lord Emsworth) and wonder if the US can learn a trick or two from these guys to manage its adventures in the Middle East better. There are a few traits that are unique but common to this breed of inhabitants in this lovely city called Chennai.

First, when an auto driver wants to take a U-turn, he never bothers to look around. It is only AFTER completing close to 90-degrees of the turn that he slowly lifts his head up and gazes dreamily at the road; however, by this time, you either, bang your vehicle on his auto and in the process damage your vehicle or physique (or both), or manage to bring your vehicle to a screeching halt but not without teaching ALL your body parts about how gravity is defied. Once, my sister, who was sitting alongside me on the front seat with her legs neatly folded underneath her, was thrown forward but managed to get back in to exactly the same seating position after banging her head hard on the wind shield – thankfully, neither did I hit the auto, nor was my windshield damaged. Only she was a little dazed after the impact. Not that it made much difference to her behavior thereafter!

Second, even when it is quite clear that the mistake is his, the auto driver never refrains from blaming you in the filthiest of languages. It simply does not matter that you are a Senior Manager or even a Vice-President in an MNC earning over a million rupees per annum. You are all the same to him – the stinking scum of this earth out on the roads of Chennai to shake him out of his reverie. So, when I rammed my bike in to a suddenly-U-turning auto, he abused me as only an auto driver could. How I wished I did not know Tamil! Another time, when I was waiting at a signal, I suddenly heard a loud thud and was shocked to see that an auto had banged my stationary car from behind. On enquiry, I was told that I am supposed to move as soon as the signal turns green, even if it means ramming in to the vehicle in front of me – just as this auto had done. It is also worth mentioning that I was forced to be a silent listener to his abusive self and was never given a chance to speak. You will agree with me when I say that these guys suffer from poor communication skills. And if there is one thing the auto driver hates, it is obeying road rules. He prefers road rage instead!

Third, every auto driver worth his salt is always out to over charge you. I don’t think this self-explanatory point needs to be elaborated at all. But for the benefit of those lucky souls, who have not been adventurous enough to set foot in Chennai, it is my duty to forewarn. Once when I was forced to hire an auto, I was asked for 50 rupees for a 2 KM journey; I politely refused and walked the distance, ignoring the hot weather which pre-washed my shirt in the process. There is something called as a ‘meter’ that is fitted to every auto in Chennai – but it is never given any work, even when it happens to be an electronic meter (that has now been made mandatory). So, the auto driver will quote a figure of his fancy out of thin air when you want to hire him – however, you must always agree to only 50% of the fare that he quotes initially. For example, when he asks for 80 rupees for a 4-5 KM journey, you tell him that anything beyond 40 rupees is unacceptable to you. At this, a reasonable driver will begin by offering you a discount of 5 rupees. It is then up to you to either continue to bargain or run for your life! I hasten to warn you that it is better to be equipped with a pair of high quality ear plugs (to be at your command and ready to commence work at a very short notice), if you audaciously opt for the former.

Fourth, (apropos the situation narrated in point 3 above) if you are lucky enough to get him to agree to a reasonable fare of 50 rupees, you should be prepared and hold on to dear life. Experts opine that it is advisable to be armed with 4-5 meters of a rope of reasonable quality, if the passenger intends to alight in one piece and with all body parts at precisely the same places as they were before the commencement of the journey. Whether the road is decent (which is a rarity) or bad or even where there is no road, our auto drivers maintain a uniform speed of 45 KPH! An entry must be made on the credit side of his ledger that the driver never looks at the hapless passenger, till this journey is completed! This has however remained an unexplained phenomenon.

Fifth, just like the inability of our experts to explain the surges and slips of the Sensex, we Chennai-ites have never been able to explain the auto fare hikes in the face of the slightest of drizzles. While reasonable auto drivers will only add a premium of 25 to 30 rupees to the fare, the ruthless ones will simply double the usual fare (which might partly be attributed to the weak mathematical skills of some members of this species). A similar change of rate-slabs happens every night too. Needless to add, this has been an unexplained phenomenon too.

Before I end, it will be imprudent of me not to make another credit entry in the auto driver’s ledger: he is the biggest source of entertainment for Chennai-ites, especially for those who have got used to its eateries, beaches and malls. The entertainment quotient escalates when the victim happens to be someone else! A gathering of friends or family or at times, complete strangers, always considers itself incomplete if someone’s valuable experiences during an auto ride is not discussed. Like Daffodils to Wordsworth, our autos are to Chennai-ites: “…when on our couches we lie – In vacant or in pensive mood, - they flash upon that inward eye – which is the gloom of solitude; - And then our hearts with displeasure fill – And grapple with the auto bill.”

Honda and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

2007-05-14T01:05:00.000+05:30

I own a Honda Unicorn. Overall, it is a good bike. It has an innovative (at least in India!) rear suspension instead of the traditional shock absorber. In terms of mileage too, I get a good deal from this bike. However, the after sale service support provided by Honda dealers is pathetic, to put it mildly!

I bought this bike in April 2005, from Didar Motors in Mount Road, Chennai. I made a hundred percent down payment, fearing any trip to the famed RTO’s of India. (If I take a loan, on completion of the loan, I will have to run from every pillar to every single post at the RTO and grease every palm along the way, just to remove the hypothecation!) However, it took Didar Motors an unbelievable 9 months to locate all my papers (RC, Insurance, Road Tax Certificate etc.) and hand over to me. This after I started literally screaming the hell out, at whoever was manning the reception desk at Didar Motors, during my multiple visits.

The first few months went without any issues. Then I started having problems. The speedometer and fuel level indicator wouldn’t work. When I complained to the engineers at the service center, they fixed it, but it lasted for 3 to 4 days at the maximum. But the worst part was that they would always outsource the activity of tightening of the screws to me! Whenever I came across some unusual noise emanating from my bike, I would look all around and figure out that some screw was not tight and do it myself. By not tightening the screws, the Honda service center guys excelled in screwing up my bike! This was not an exception, but a mandatory routine that seems to have given them unlimited joy.

To add to my woes, they would give the indicator beeper a thorough water wash to ensure that it never beeped! After two futile attempts at getting the beeper rectified, I threw them off for good. Through this novel method, I ensured that there was one part less for the service engineers to screw up! This must have left them fuming, for when I went back to them the next time, they retained my bike for over a week. The complaint this time was the dysfunctional front panel. Neither could I know the fuel level, nor the speed. Besides, the indicator lights wouldn’t blink. The horn wouldn’t, make any noise! They said this was some electrical problem and had entrusted my bike with an enthusiastic young man, who was a self-confessed “expert” in electrical issues. He “worked” on my bike for about 4 days and finally told me that he had more or less fixed the issue and now there was only a 50-50 chance that the problem would recur. So much for an expert’s contribution!

But the funny thing was that the problem resurfaced the same evening that I took delivery of my bike. I went back to Didar again and abused the “expert” with the most “diplomatic expletives” possible. He felt bad. I felt bad too. He promised to fix it, but delivered exactly the same result. This made me lose all hope on Honda service center. There is a bike mechanic who attends to small problems in my friend Arjun’s bike. (Incidentally, he too owns a Unicorn and as you must have expected by now, he too faced similar problems with the Didar service center.) I called this bike mechanic and asked him to fix the problem. He checked the bike and told me that the battery was in its deathbed and he would fix it by the same evening. And he delivered as promised. The issue was that battery was low and needed to be recharged. But the Honda guys treated this as an electrical problem. A wrong pill for the right ailment – just like most doctors do!

You think all my issues were over with this? Well, think again! The mechanic is a roadside fellow and the quality of his work was just that - shoddy. Though he fixed the problem, he created a couple of more problems for me. After his service, I could find that the noise levels had gone up in my bike. Even a small bump on the road, would ensure high decibel rattling noises. This forced me to go slow on my fast riding habits – you call it a blessing in disguise, if you want. But it was a major irritant for me.

This was when I heard about the Castrol Bikezone. They were advertising that they took care of bikes like children! Thought I did not completely trust this claim, I was sure that nothing could be worse than the service levels at Didar. So I went to them on 19th April 2007. (Asterix Moto Care, No. 127, Valluvarkottam High Road, Nungambakkam – Invoice No. INV/07-08/153 Dated 19/04/2007 – Job Card No. JOB/07-08/3757) I went for a Gold Service. The only complaint I made was about the rattling noise. They asked me to take delivery of my bike the same evening. This I did after paying RS. 839.00.

True to my small expectations, they had not fixed the rattling noise issue, properly. For when I did a test drive, I found everything to be okay. May be it was because I did not manage to find as many bumps on the road, during my limited test drive. Bottom line is that the noise came back to haunt me that same night, when I was riding back home from office. I was completely frustrated and did not know what to do. But I didn’t know at that time that this was only the tip of the iceberg!

I learnt to live with the noise. In fact, I forced myself to like it and enjoy it. As I was getting used to the existing noise (or noises!), every new week brought with it some new tones. With time, my bike started resembling a toddler’s toy whose principal aim is to attract attention by making noise. This was when I became a little adventurous and tried to figure out the multiple sources of this noise and tried to fix them indigenously! This method only meant more thrills and spills for me. For I found out during my routine (it became a routine!) inspections that one or the other screw was left loose. So these experts from Castrol Bikezone too excelled in the art of not tightening the screws! Besides, one of these close inspections revealed that most of the interior parts including the one covering the chain was full of scratches & dents – this put paid to their claim that they took care of my bike like a baby! But the worst (or should I say ‘best’?) screw they left loose was the one connecting the exhaust pipe to the engine. This became very loose one fine day, and I started attracting maximum attention on the roads, by virtue of my bike making the noise akin to an aircraft. That night I was totally frustrated. But when I woke up the next morning, I was fresh and pretty sure that this would be a minor “screw-up” and that I could fix it by myself. With this renewed hope and vigor I inspected every part in the bike. This is when I found the exhaust pipe hanging loose from the engine! I was totally flabbergasted and didn’t have words to express my shock. Could it get any worse than this?

Now, I am in a fix. I am not at all sure, whom to go to for my next service! I guess it is better to go back to Didar - after all, the damages they did over 2 years, are very minimal compared to the damages inflicted by Castrol Bikezone in its maiden attempt!

On Wit & Wisdom

2007-05-12T22:49:00.001+05:30

"Wit & Wisdom" happens to be the title of my first book (well, at least my first attempt at writing a book)! This was during my college days. I filled up quite a lot of pages then. But unfortunately, couldn't carry on with the project at that time. Things happened and I had to shift focus midway. After a rather long hiatus, am now making a conscious effort to kick start the project. Am in the process of developing ideas for my first book. To this end, I am drafting an "approach document." May be I shall publish that too, very soon!

I am at a critical juncture in my life at the moment. On the personal front, I just got married and am settling down in to a family life. And on the professional front, am changing jobs and will be joining a financial services company on 1st June. So these are exciting times for me. Am getting a lot of fresh insights, that were hitherto unavailable. Am also getting a lot of time to read and enrich myself - as this is the best preparatory ground for a solid writing instinct in the future. May be the countdown has already begun and the launch is not far off!