The Do Nothing School

When a society emerges, I guess most of whom we call "intellectuals" feel the need to involve themselves in the shaping of its future. There could be many motivations for it- altruism (most of them are hardly affected by the machinations of the state), a higher calling (simply reading books, doing jobs and thrashing out meaningful arguments in a debate has a shelf life) or simply the egotistic feel of driving the less privileged (less moneyed, less educated and less articulate) on the road to promises.
It does not quite remain the same when the society matures. When the first set of intellectuals retire, their actions are scrutinised and perhaps for some time their halo remains intact. Then as times change, irreverence breeds and new ideas emerge. Newer truths emerge, some skeletons are dragged out of the closets and most halos slip. The "icons" get their sets of admirers and detractors- they debate about the ideology, acumen and the motivation of the icons. The less serious ones do not even spare the private lives of these icons.
The new intellectuals, groomed in the dialogic tradition, face a dilemma- whether to carry on the tradition of public involvement or carry on with their lives. Now, the difficulties of living in a mundane world (same old job, same old environs, same old debates) are less visible. For one, if indeed the society has progressed, there are more intellectuals (as a proportion) to argue with. More intellectuals may mean more books, more ideas and more issues to contend with. Arguments can go back and forth and a lifetime can be spent on them. Newer societies (again if there has been some progress) will create more diverse opportunities (in the private sphere) and will for some time, set back the ennui that settles in a simpler life.
Perhaps more importantly, the courage disappears. Having seen the icons fall from grace, and reduced to old hacks, the new set plays safe- despite the sound bites, chooses no involvement. The muddiness of public service readily offers an excuse- its beyond repair and much more can be done without the stymying public life.
Hence the popularity of doing nothing. It does not feel right to blame this school- after all staying away does not always mean they are irresponsible. Society has to run on wheels- and wheels perhaps run better when there are brighter people running them. And truth be told, a lot of do-gooders are fed on the ambition to be someone (one way or another) rather than out of some higher calling.
But I guess someone has to reinvent the wheel.

Cubicle Diaries III: Conversations

The one on politics:
It is on rare occasions that I chat with one of my flatmates (also a co-worker) about politics. But whenever we do it always veers into the fascinating territory of secularism, existing political parties and systems. I don't why we always manage to strike a chord: it could well may be that we both possess very strong opinions. Him a spokesman of the conservative thought. Me a card-carrying liberal.
I like him for his opinions. His is the unabashed conservative articulation. He is not in the least unapologetic about what he believes in. In discussions, he arms himself with simple yet strong arguments-

• In the recent past, 99% of terrorist activities has been committed by Muslims. Hence the followers of Islam should be under constant surveillance and suspicion. They ought to be guilty unless proven. We are dealing with human lives here (terrorist attacks) and hence you cannot ignore the damning evidence (the 99% fact)
• India needs an anti-terrorist law: special courts, faster justice (or rather faster route to the guillotine!) and hence safer homeland. Why have mercy on people who don't think twice about killing innocent men, women and even children? Why keep them in jails (and why feed them?) while in about a year's time they can hijack an airline and demand the release of such scoundrels? If all this is not pansy enough, what is? The present administration is very soft on terror
• Communism cannot work anywhere, and it can never work in India. As for Chinese Communism (I'm assuming you know what it is) that too can't work in India as we have a democracy that caters to too many opinions

I am quite unlike him. When faced with a conservative, I don't counter each and every argument. There could be many reasons for this, but I am fairly aware of two-

• I am not qualified or experienced enough to have the last word. I have never experienced the three things that make a man shed his liberal inclination ('garb'?) - fear, greed and loss. Fear when you fear for your life and limb. I have not lived through a riot. Greed- that lust for power or money that overwhelms any other consideration. I am moderately ambitious- but I have not yet been presented with a situation of all or nothing- where I can say "Stuff happens" to convince others, not in the least myself. Loss- I haven't lost anyone to terror. I don't know the feeling after such a loss. There is much I don't know or haven't seen
• I prefer equanimity to vitriol. Faced with a staunch conservative, I know I have very little chance of converting him, no matter how hard I try. I listen to the rules of probability and play safe. I abdicate my responsibility to liberalism (and hence society?) this way but that's what I am. A post on that later

So I write. Here is what I wish to say to him but I can't-

• The evidence is damning. But there are many ways to resolve a situation: either I can give up and detain (or worse) kill all Muslims or we live in the hope they elevate their cause to more saner ways: through protests, discussion and debate. We are talking about lives here: "they" are also human beings. The methods of terror are not theirs: they simply adopted it. Terrorism did not have Islamic origins
• Justice does not mean Hindu justice. I am not one to say we don't need better courts- there have been plenty of ink wasted on how we can have a better judicial system- faster courts is definitely not the cure-all
• Divisions are endemic in Indian society. I will not dwell on this, I have far too many posts on this matter. But communism (the Indian brand!) diluted the divisions at places they were successful. It took time but it did happen. A more robust version when applied on the whole of India can do the trick - imagine the power of a communist party with foothold in at least 12 states. And with practised ease, it'll kill off most sources of dissent. The only reason the party has lost its balance today is that it wields too little power (significant presence in 3 states) and too gung-ho on industrialisation. Even then, will it be voted out of power? NO CHANCE. Communism is very effective in reducing all other forms of opposition to nought (not for perpetuity, but for quite some time). Nationalism has the same traits (Hitler, Mussolini, Putin?!) but the constant need for devouring other territories sketches its downfall- Communism does not need this crutch. So the Chinese brand of communism can work in India, provided we have a revolution (a bloody one is not necessary)

I am not a fan of communism. Neither do I have putrid hate for such a system. But I think it can function in India. By this I don't mean any of these- the poor will be saved, the rich will be hanged, inequality will disappear or even we'll become as caste less, secular country. Certain divisions will blur, newer ones will emerge, we'll lose many forms of liberty and there will be the "lives of others". But the system may survive- can't just claim that'll not even last a day.

Mistakes and Life

This post actually came out of three impulses: a chat with my ex about mistakes in life (as portrayed in the novel "The Joke"); idle reminisces about some silly things I did in school. And that the post would be somehow congruent to the latest bestseller "Three Mistakes of My life" (I haven't read the book and neither do I intend to. It's just that I think I can guess what it is about and then contrast it with what I have to write).

Mistakes have always been quite intriguing to me. What is a mistake? If you commit a wrong (something that in itself is subjective) the wrong-doer would try to label it as a mistake and the affected will probably not be so generous. Ludvik, in "The Joke", commits several things that could be labeled differently. His letter to his romantic interest having references to Trotsky (which proved to be a turning point in his life): was it a mistake? surely it was an attempt to "show off" his intellect- in a free society, the only outcome it could have had is a "jerk" from the girl, shaking her head. Or at the maximum, a censure.

But it wasn't a free society. Ludvik, of his age, should have known better. Now there is a belief that one deserves what one gets. Did he deserve what he got? it is from this point subjectivity creeps in. I believe nothing is sacrosanct- and very few believe in this. You try and strip a greatly revered idea/person/faith of its glory and the most likely face you'll see is a shocked one. Worse, universal condemnation.

Was his treatment of the women (who came later) justified? Subjectivity creeps in- answers would vary from "see it from the context" and "no". It'd also include mine- what one goes through in such extreme circumstances is something very few can empathise with. So all actions commited during such periods are very difficult to judge upon. But we have to; otherwise there is no rule of law. We have "extenuating circumstances" to mitigate such judgements. But we cannot free the wrong-doer.

To be consistent, Rule of law cannot be taken as sacrosanct. I've always felt an inexplacable derision towards authority. But I admit its importance; and hence bow down to it.

Life has its own quirks. Randomness (I have been fooled by randomness!) makes sure people make mockery of rule of law- let's not get this wrong- I'm only talking about people who went scot free without exercising any form of influence. Ludvik was also not punished, or rather not in the sense we see punishment.

But he understood the "jokes" of his life. Is the realisation of a wrong, punishment enough? I am in murky waters now. Realisation is not suffering. Or is it?

Life is a narrative. Everyone makes mistakes: some of these are "wrongs". Some are punished for what they have done. Some realise and repent, some don't do either.

Today, the mysterious mind drifted to my schooldays. I remembered a computer class where I (armed with a basic knowledge of MS DOS) was acting smart and had this "I know it all and so I don't need this" attitude. Seated in the back bench, me and a few others (same tribe of "experts") looked at the instructors with disdain and tried to create a ruckus now and then. Try and make a mockery of the proceedings.

The instructors didn't need all this. I'm sure they were getting paid- but noisy kids who know the alphabet and know nothing of prose are something they ought to not have bargained for. Eventually they got me (One female showed me something I didn't know- and how was I to realise that there were so much I didn't know and still don't know). But I saw the light and learnt to be humble.

I realised my mistake- but did it change me? Not really. Even today, I make the same "mistake". With some semblance of expertise under my belt, I sometimes bask in the glory of an "expert". Why? I have seen others do it? A fault built inside me?

Let's not be too difficult on myself. I am rather humble compared to many I have seen. I experience moments of hubris- and sometimes I show it to others strategically. It helps. But experiences (like the one I described) have made me wiser- I am aware of what I don't know, haven't done and haven't achieved.

Mistakes are like death and taxes. At least in my case, it has never ceased to go away. The chronicler knows some of these are "wrongs".

There are no three mistakes in my life. There are too many. I can only rank them according to how they have affected me- not others. That I'll never know- because sometimes they will not tell me or they may not know themselves and more importantly, sometimes I wouldn't like to know.

The Responsibilities of Ideation

Now, honestly I don't know whether the word 'ideation' exists. But it is strewn about by MBAs and so I thought be a cool add-on.
To the topic at hand. Ideas and the creative process at work that generates the ideas as such do not have any responsibility. And it is better not to weigh the creative process with values and so on. There are very few things I believe on, but I have absolute belief in liberty in all forms of creation, including ideas.

But there is one more thing I steadfastly believe on- every creative form can and ought to be subjected to questioning. A critique is not a caricature. It is a process that may actually enrich both the maker and the observer. I don't think I am naive. Obviously, there'd be many voices that will not make sense and may prove to be disparaging enough to set your creative spirit ablaze. But then that is where detachment comes in. And self-control.

Though I'd admit, in spite of the heavy words used above, the first creative form that comes out of a creationist has special meaning to him. Detachment may seem logical, but it wasn't cold reason that made him create. Every critic has the responsibility to take this as a special case. This is where you bring out the kid gloves. I'm sure it feels great to sound like a big guy and brand a new thing as trash. But that is not what a fan of creation does.

So, essentially I wish to say, is that the observer ought not to go ga-ga over a new form (could be an idea) needlessly neither should he criticise it in such forceful terms that it sows self-doubt in the creationist or antagonise relations to such an extent that neither listens to each other. In both ways, the whole point is lost.
Last night, I met a man (for the second time, the first time I barely got to know the guy) who's about to formally launch a new rock band. We discussed his ideas on how he wishes to shoot his video. Since both have little command on the form, we discussed the plot. I am not at liberty to discuss it fully, but then I'll offer a glimpse: imagine a brown man, disturbed by his complexion. He tries many things to be fair, predictably all in vain. But then one fine morning, he goes out and sees a Black man. It changes the way he thinks- he feels good that his case (sic) is not as bad as his. And then other such scenarios follow.

The idea is nothing new. Explored and dissected in many forms of culture and refined to the extent the aforesaid idea seems a little hackneyed. But then I nodded along, amidst one guy gushing about it (this guy, also my flatmate, considers Tom Clancy as his favourite author. Easy to guess why he is not an audience that needs to be taken seriously). The Rocker put more perspective- in India, where bands sell teeny-bopper romance and puppy love, this is quite a remarkable break. Usual videos have a typical fare- pretty men and women flaunt their bodies, teach people how to make out, and sometimes double up as travelogues for exotic destinations.

This made me look at the idea afresh. It obviously didn't seem any brighter, but at least I knew what he was saying when he claimed that it'd be different.

But what disturbed me was the fallibility of such an idea. The purpose of the idea is not at fault: it wishes to make people feel good about themselves. But the way it seeks to do it is gravely at fault. When you look at the black man on the street and consider yourself lucky, you're still trapped in the world of comparisons. It can only give you temporary solace. One can argue that it will make the person think about his obsession about his shortcomings and come to terms with what we are but does it naturally follow?

I think not. If you are stretching boundaries, stretch them a little bit more. A black man on the street will make you happy today. It won't make you happy tomorrow when you see someone with a paler complexion. If you think I'm making a case out of nothing, then think of this: how many times one has looked at a destitute and considered himself lucky? Has it led to a life-altering epiphany that what you are what you are and one ought not to be bothered about falling back in the great race of life? NO. Everyone still runs the great race, constantly checking how the other guy is doing to make sure he does not fall behind.

The only way, I think, you can escape the vortex of this constant pursuit of "Happiness" is to transcend the realm of comparisons. The brown man has to come to terms with his skin and find the beauty in it, but not by seeing himself as superior to the black man. I am not stupid enough to think that its easy to stop doing what people has accepted as being natural. But I have the responsibility to say that the idea falls short on this and can perpetuate the compare-and-compete world we live in.

Stretching the piece too far, and just for the benefit of my JNU brethren, the "feel-good" the idea propagates reflect the class system. The finest among us sit atop the pyramid, marveling us with their blessed gifts (gift? - or a gene matter? subject matter of another post). The intermediates are stuck in between and feel satisfied that they're better than the worst.
The worst, well, we all know what the class system thinks of the worst.

Isn't rock music supposed to be radical?

The Thing with Art

Now I really don't know what art (in the universal sense) means- but I do know what constitutes art to me. Memorable cinema, an eminently readable book (prose), music, a piece of sculpture that makes you feel so damn inferior that you wish to die (!!!), the art of capturing the world through lenses (photography) and of course art itself (paintings). There are dramas, poems, and a variety of other things that qualify as art bust since I am ignorant of these mediums, I won't consider them here as I really don't have anything to offer on them.
I am at a stage of life where one questions oneself- what is going to be the driving force? What is going to be that single-minded pursuit that makes you wish to live a little longer, die a little later?

For me the late realisation has been art. I am late at this game, but hopefully not too late. I have had so far exposure to very low brow stuff- but then I am born in a country that boasts of neither the Gallic flair or the American ingenuity.

There are perhaps two ways to the high pursuit of art- eclectics or the esoteric. For me, the time has not yet come to make such a decision. The two-year old kid does not decide between Oxford or Cambridge. I am at a cultural infancy and it could take a decade before I reach the stage where I may have to chose either.

Now why art?

Honestly enough, though it may seem to be a logical conclusion for a Bengali rice-eater, its sheer enjoyment that drives me to this goal. All I am valiantly trying to project here is that it is not the cultural pull or the omipresent desire to be cool is driving me. Or at least that is what I think.

As for coolness, honestly put, I move in a company that hardly appreciates my diligence. People ridicule me when I see an excellent movie twice in the theatre and throw up their hands when I refuse to give in to their pleas to accompany them to very below-average movies. To illustrate, I'd watch the Rashomon as many times as possible to grasp the narrative and the finesse of the craft but choose not to watch the regular potboiler. This is not to say I avoid all blockbuster material. In fact, I make it a point to see them. I value the presence of stars (the ones who can act) and find their utilisation a key aspect of the craft.

Coming back to what I was saying, all this is not helping me get cool. Its making me alone.

Interestingly, a very good friend of mine is much higher on the art scale than I am. Yet through some way, he retains all his old friends who have not, obviously, been on the same pursuit. He switches between avatars with remarkable ease. So in front of women, he'll be the gentle soft-spoken cultured guy. In front of me and another good friend (I like to think of us as the triumvirate, but both of them frown on it, as it affects their homophobic sensibilities!) who share the same tastes, he's the guy we like and know- the analytical, argumentative, radical and the really well read Sid. And in front of the guys, he is a raucous fellow showering expletives, one-liners, puns, toilet humour and yes, unsolicitously toughening them up (by simply taking them on fights- it helps he's huge)

Now I can be many different people too. But definitely not with ease. I have acted in my time (nothing so grand- skits and all) but those are meant for the stage. My general personality remains the same, except as someone very close alleged, it changes quite a lot over time.

So with this unvarying persona, I am finding it difficult to reconcile my sole aim in life with the very necessary need to make friends.

A difficult existence.

What bothers more that it is out of choice.

Cubicle Diaries II: Alienation?

Traversing through the corporate realm, I cannot feel but alienated sometimes. To convince myself (my blog does not boast of any readers) , let me recount two particular instances-

• Recently I heard the story of a fellow who just disappeared without a trace. He left his reasonably well paying job, the fast lanes of Delhi and his parents for a cult somewhere in the bowels of Middle India. Everyone knew his devotion to the cult (many a times colleagues and friends have noticed that) but no one guessed this would happen. While I discussed with some people I know, they all seemed to agree that the guy may be a little loony and such an action is certainly irresponsible. I am yet to find someone who thought the decision was mysterious and to an extent, required courage
• Interpretation of films has become a source of major irritation. The blatant labeling of brilliant movies like "Dark Knight" and "Fight Club" as action movies is somehow unacceptable to me. Sure they had elements of action, but the underlying theme was nothing but a direct contest between good and evil, embellished by car chases, kick-ass action and pyros. Yet otherwise smart men (boasting of impeccable degrees, certifications and work performance) do so. Why are people so lackadaisical in their attempt to understand mediums of entertainment?

The general reception to radical ideas are still met with ridicule, and at best skepticism. Reconciliation with such attitudes are extremely difficult. Why is everyone so dismissive?

Running away from it all requires conviction. The reason I have reserved my admiration for the runaway fellow's action is that, needless of how it finally turns out to be, the decision needed courage. And the execution a kind of daring that I can only dream of.

Despite all the talk, I have myself settled into a stasis that can hardly be shaken by anything. Only perturbed by events that somehow effect me, the whole spirit of idealism has been grinded to dust and everything seems past now.

The past in itself an alien world. I hardly reflect back- and I am yet to understand why.

Perhaps alienation works in many ways. One alienates from oneself, as well as from others

A Bit of Social Service- Hyderabad Facts

It's time to admit it- I have the writer's block. I could never write well, but lately I haven't found anything to write on. Sure, I can go on rambling about the lack of meaning in my life, the mediocrity inherent in me and such inglorious stuff that I keep moaning about in my posts. But after all, as a dear friend pointed out, this is not a personal diary and it's time I stopped using it like one.

So let's help out people. I'm fairly new in Hyderabad (five months now) and so my list of places to be is far from being an authoritative one. But I can always try and here's my best shot. Point to be noted is that I'm 24 and have a wee bit of disposable income, so there may be places that you think are too yuppie or too expensive. Or maybe too oldy or cheap.

Places to EAT (has to be the first one) -

1. Aromas of China: situated at the top floor of the City Centre Mall at Banjara Hills Road No.1, is the probably the best place to have chinese food in Hyderabad. Try out the squids (I like the salt & pepper preparation), the steamboat and the sticky fried rice. Hell, try out anything. If you don't like it, I'll treat you to your favorite chinese place. Approx meal for two- INR 800-900 (w/o drinks)
2. Barbecue Nation: Opposite City Centre Mall. Not quite the Gurgaon version, but pretty good all the same. A must for all the carnivores. The buffet spread for Rs 450/head is quite a deal.
3. Fusion 9/ Deli 9: Very classy place- or rather my kinda place! Lebanese platter and pizzas are very good. Also do try the Lamb chops. Beer Pitcher for Rs 470 works best for a 3-4 strong group. Meal for two- INR 1000.
4. Angeethi: Cheap but succulent. Dressed up as a dhaba, but surely the only top-floor dhaba in the country. Indian food. Approx meal for two- INR 600. Near the City Centre Mall. Recommended are the kebabs, Rogan Josh and Mutton Barra
5. Mainland China: Decent chinese food. Love the lunch buffet - INR 250 during weekdays, INR 350 during weekends. Near the Ashoka Metropolitan Mall. Good service.
6. Indijo's: Great weekend lunch buffet. Cheap too- INR 300/head. City Centre Mall. Weekday buffet (if you get the time) is at an eye-popping INR 190/head
7. Eatway@ NKM's Grand: Decent weekend lunch buffet- INR 287/head. On the Taj Krishna down road.
8. Copper Chimney: Good Indian.
9. Bowl'o'China: Cheap chinese food. There are quite a few branches.
10. Noodle Bar: Decent chinese food. Hyderabad Central Mall.
11. Sahib Sindh Sultan: Decent Indian. A bit pricey. City Centre.
12. Rajdhani: Veg place, but worth the visit. Situated on the top of Big Bazaar, Ameerpet. It has a traditional Indian feel. The place and the food is really good, but I didn't enjoy my visit, as it was like a Metallica fan forced to listen to ragas.
13. Chinese Pavilion: Cheap chinese.
14. Ohri's: At Road No.2 Banjara Hills, a great place if you wish to impress someone about hyderabad. A multi-cuisine place, with every floor devoted to each cuisine. Decent midnight buffet.
15. Paradise: Decent biryani.

Places to Go-

1. Eat Street: Lake facing food court. Good place to kill time. You can also take the jetty to the island.
2. Lumbini Park: okay place to kill time. Besides Hussainsagar.
3. Golcoonda Fort: Good place to hang around. The lights and sound show tedious.

Pubs-
Not too much into drinking, but being a social animal often accompany friends. Some good places are-

1. Ten Downing Street: Just as it sounds, it has a unique Brit feel, minus the snootiness.
2. Firaangi Paani: A place, yes you've guessed right, full of firaangs looking for a quick drink.
3. Xtreme Sports Bar: Cheap place and positioned opposite the City Centre mall. Average music (but you can put in your recommendatios to the DJ - he acquiesces to my demands for Led zep and Doors)


This much for now.

About Right Conservatives

First let me give a few details of myself- it helps later. I grew up in a family of anti-communists, but either of my parents were not very clear about their positions, but were very clear about their apathy to the left. Such an attitude was not formed because they considered the left as godless, or they thought Marx was an idiot, or because of the fact that the dictatorship of the proletariat could be most destablising. Like most people, they simply did not like the government in our state.

My grandad from mom's side was a lot more articulate. A freedom-struggle man, and a government man on top of that, he always believed in the Grand Old Party of India. His talks had so inspired me in the childhood, that even today, despite the rampant opportunism that characterizes Congress, I still feel assured when it is in power.

So we are secular, liberal, democratic and symphathetic to the poor.

Focus now on my formative years. The typical middle class in Kolkata is anti-commie. The reasons are simple- the old commies desperately wanted and tried to make Kolkata look like a village. Industries were made to move, or better, shut down. Thousands of Bangaali souls have to depart to "foreign" shores (usually Bangalore and Delhi, but alien places all the same!) for education and opportunities. How could they not hate the Left?

Yet such a milieu can be a fertile ground for some to be a commie. Anti-establishment (establishment defined by popular opinion) always works. But Cable TV and Tom Clancy ruined it. I mean if the "West" is cool, how could they be wrong when they say the Soviet Union is an "evil empire" and its better to be "dead than red"?

So I became and still am, an anti-commie.

But Right conservatives amuse me. The weird hatred towards muslims (and even christians) is something I am yet to fathom. But then a beef-eater can hardly understand the nuances of religion, especially one's own. Twenty-odd years of liberalism has made me defiant of most social norms and sadly etiquettes. Joint families, ram-rajya, the vedic gyan, astrology and the exotic wonders of India all seem anachronistic to me.

Delhi woke me up to casteism. We had little of that in Bengal but suddenly I had to grapple with the biggest manifestation of the conservative ideals in our country. I mean, how many of us ordinary Indians loathe muslims? Most of us do think they make the majority of our terrorists,
they love to live in squalor, they do not take believe in immunisations or education and they make more babies, but we do not 'hate' them.

But we are serious about our caste.

I know I am not the model guy. But a part of me (hell, lets be honest- the whole of me) think I am better than them. Contrariwise, the astute, grave and paternal geriatric- the head of the Indian family- he may seem generous, caring and wise- is the problem. Behind his avuncular affability lies an unbending faith to a social order that asphyxiates freedom of thought, expression and action.

It may not seem so, but us, the mall rats and the ungodly brats are better than them. We may indulge in a lot of excesses and do a lot of bad stuff. But we do not 'hate' and perpetuate 'hate'.

Interestingly, conservatives do not like their counterparts from foreign lands. There are very few who wholeheartedly support Bush. Not for them the "working classes of the world unite". In fact, it is their hate of the malevolent and vicious "other" that drives them.

The Hindu fundamentalist needs the Muslim fanatic.

Cubicle Diaries: I

Taking a bit of liberty here, I think people, at least in our country, can be neatly classified into two groups- one who likes to settle down in his own land and the other, likes not to settle down at all. Now, I won't be too simplistic: in the land of million mutinies, such classification doesn't work. True that. The first class (the innuendo will become clear later) will salivate at an opportunity to settle in the Land of the Opportunity or the land of the Queen. Perhaps because it has been drummed into our system that those two countries represent paradise, albeit with certain imperfections, and settling there is one of the highest form of aspiration- so you don't say no to that!

The second class, a certain minority, cannot embrace their land as their perpetual homes. I won't dare put it down to certain factors, though I'll explore. I can, as I am one of such kind. Perhaps because we have a limited span of affection for everything- we outgrow our love for our places. That's pretty much my case. When my friends rave about their cities (the bangalees about their "great" Kolkata, the Delhiites about their "awesome" Delhi or the Mumbaikars about their "rocking" city), I get a sense of amazement and despair, perhaps in equal portions. Amazement, because I never felt such for my Kolkata. I liked the place, especially the part I was born and brought up (I could never reconcile with North Kolkata and its congestion and antiquated buildings), and still like it. I like the rain, the lake, the air and the feel. But I am not in love with it- I do not rave about it, nor I would only spent the rest of my life there. In Kolkata, I used to think it was a bangalee problem- the way eyes get misty when talking Kolkata- attribution to the community-deprecation that is there in most young people. In Delhi, I understood that it is perhaps an universal problem. Mumbai and Hyderabad confirmed the hypothesis- such people are there everywhere and they are the majority.

Two things- I have begun to state that as a problem when it may be not- I mean its a conscious decision by an adult where he/she wishes to settle. But then I am not called opinionated for nothing, and as always, I will only serve the cause of my opinion. Secondly, I kept on mentioning big cities. What about people from towns and villages? Well, for one thing, the power of nostalgia on these people is probably as strong. But for one thing, the people I have met have already shifted and hence I guess, either their economic aspirations overpowered their sentiments, or they are my type.

Plus, they don't have too many things to rave about.

So why Despair? Well, its all very well to rave about your place. But to call it the best there is, must be a stupid exercise at ignorance. The way all big-city dwellers (here I refer to Delhi, Mumbai and Kolkata) condescendingly look at other cities is irritating. A Delhiite thinks Mumbai is too congested, Kolkata not even comparable; Mumbai walas laugh at Delhi's security; Kolkatans sneer at both groups and sigh at the memory of old times. Culture precedes everything, they say.

And they are puzzled by the decision of us-types to not settle anywhere, especially in the city that made you. Harmless monikers like "nomads" are acceptable. The air of condescension about our supposed "unpredictability", "immaturity" and "lack of gratitude to near and dear ones" is not so acceptable.

Of course, these are but minor irritations. We give a flying fuck to what they think. But the judgemental approach is perhaps best avoided.

Now we have a movement emerging in our country that people of other states need not settle in other states. The "immigrants" ought not to exploit "their" sources and opportunities.
It may be bold to say this (and perhaps a little foolish) but I do think such turf-mentality gives rise to these ideas. It may be the worst manifestation, but such opinions surely do not arise out of us "travellers".

The Demise of Pettiness? Ha!

There was a time when I believed in everything I read: gullibility is inversely proportional to age, or perhaps it's just me. The editorials of my adolescence promised wonders to come; it seemed that we would catapult to a state of being where they'd be wealth, convenience and of course happiness. And so I came to believe, perhaps prodded by the soothsayers, that there will also be a demise of pettiness.

The logic seemed infallible- with wealth, comfort and wisdom (borrowed or not) why would we perpetuate petty thoughts? Isn't pettiness strongly associated with a lack of well-being?

My land was also going through an interesting social dynamic. Joint families were breaking down, matrimonials stepped outside the boundary of caste, community and sometimes even religion. The need to get marriages "arranged" also fell out of fashion. Though nuclear families were pretty common in Kolkata (this is "my land", social relaxations observed in Kolkata are yet to be emulated in other parts of India, including a few metros), the nineties saw the emergence of such a family unit as a dominant force.

Having been exposed to joint families (one cousin's family stuck to the old way) as well as nuclear families (mine), I noticed the remarkable lack of pettiness in the latter. The husband and wife squabble over little things, but such conflicts are more out of either ego tussles, differences in attitudes or opinions, or simply out of boredom. Pettiness as defined by narrow (or flimsy) interests are rare. On the other hand, I watched the strifes of the joint families, which are probably less regular than husband-wife quibbles (or I hope so), and they seemed to emanate from a mindset of pettiness. Characters become caricatures in this race to the bottom.

In my musings, I had ruled out professional lives. Little as I was, the domain of work did not invade my thinking space and hence limited the conclusions I can draw from my ruminations. Today, when I have entered the hallow portals of the "job life", I realise "pettiness" is alive and well. It has manifested itself in newer forms and perhaps become even more vigorous.

Take schadenfreude. If you were to find case examples of the worst kinds of sadists, look no further from the maze of cubicles. Recently, a few people were asked to leave from my firm (officially they resigned- maybe they did, but rumours suggest otherwise). I'll take the case of one particular lady. Though I was not very fond of her (not many were either, as it was alleged she had attitude problems), but if she was asked to leave, then fact is she got a raw deal. But on her last day, we have our grand old daddy (a fiddly diddly PhD who knows squat) and one of his acolytes engaging her in the Yahoo Messenger. I thought no more of it- maybe curiosity has got the better of them. But it turned out the old man and his lackey were in for some fun. Her replies, sober as they were, somehow filled their hearts with glee.

I am not taking specific cases. I noticed quite a few smiles when the investment banks fell. Though I do not deny that the practitioners of "high finance" may have onset the new recession, but the uncertainty surrounding their careers are hardly just compensation.

All these are not news to the seasoned. There are hundreds of anecdotes one can share and they are shared- some do it over pints, some give vent by blogging. But what troubles is that my theorisation failed. If money, success (professional) and education cannot make us shrug off our pettiness, then is it endemic to us?

So Much Taken Care of- Yet So Much to Do

In spite of the periodic bouts of the urban angst, I have no concrete reasons to be unhappy. Happily settled into a job that pays decent and hardly makes you sweat; Loving parents willing to shower affection at the drop of a hat yet never to interfere in my personal life. A girlfriend who has never been demanding and always been kind. And the best of friends.

Life becomes a tad unliveable if one does not have a real sense of what one wishes to do with it.

Some are gifted with the purpose of excellence. They strive to excel everywhere. Some are not so gifted yet pick their dreams to find out the one thing that they would love to do all their lives. Fortunates commit to that one thing and make something out of it. The rest drift and crib.

In my early youth I knew only too well that I am not gifted to strive and thrive. Unaware of a lot of things, I made the assumption that I have the aptitude of one thing and will manage to eke out a living- and may even get noticed.

The University dispelled such illusions. The truth was hard to digest- but made easier by an alternative - the job market.

I had briefly flirted with the idea that I may do well here. More importantly, find a purpose. But just as a simpleton knows that the town dame is well beyond his reach, I thankfully did not the same mistake again.

The thought of identifying yourself with one set of values, one pursuit (the employer's excellence) is all very alien. I have never given much to values. I have some, oh yes, but some of them proved flexible enough in case of need. The rest have not been tested yet.

A person who has seldom thought beyond himself can hardly align with a motley group which form the corporation. A contempt born out of a curious mix of inferiority complex and illusions of being distinguished ensures that I make friends easily, yet none of them are close. Some have managed to breach the barrier. Lucky them.

I do understand that I am no messiah. I lack the motivation and hate the discomfort of being so. A messiah need not be defined by a Lead India winner (though that may be what I would have thought of in school) but one who can actually reflect beyond his own concerns. And make a genuine difference to another (not a friend, someone outside the social contract); without somehow helping himself, at present or future.

Indulgence has been a purpose. It isn't everything- but has definitely given me enough to last till now. It cannot take care of a lot, including why I continue to write such posts. But sure as hell gives me a drive.

A friend of mine will quip "Typical bourgeoisie", with not even an iota of seriousness. Yet unfortunately he is right. It is the desire to indulge myself in ways I haven't discovered yet that keeps me going.

A man's best friend- The Credit Card!

I am new into the professional world. This world has it's many wonders (hard to find but it does, trust me). One is the credit card. There are always people who are sweet enough to call you and inform how their credit card is the best. Reminds me of the better times- when parents used to gush about their kids and claim theirs were the best.

So I fell for one. I use such an expression because if you ask any person (excluding the solicitous card agents) about it, they fail to mask their abject horror and insist that it is something that you must always avoid. If you happen to have one (just out of curiosity or the eternal desire to look "cool") they beseech you to not, for the life of you, use it.

I nod and thank god (and my sociability) for having such well-wishers.

But I still fell for one- the impetuousness of the youth is to be blamed. The forbidden has it's special allure. I, playing perfectly to my ancestral heritage (I'm a bungaali, itself a gaali), carry out zero-research and fall for the first one I am canvassed for.

Oh, but I am no fool. The bank is esteemed enough- it has an unique flavour of the oriental and the occidental. It calls itself the world's local bank. They have some cool offers (including the fact that it's free - an obvious turn-on for a middle class Indian, plus a bungaali) which I pretend I understand- I have to look smart all the time- I work for an MNC! And happily become an owner of a Gold card. The nomenclature is suspect as the maximum balance (the maximum I can borrow) can buy only so much of gold at today's prices. But I am made to be convinced it's a big deal. I nod.

Months pass. Never felt the need to use it. Then something momentous happens in my life (no reason to hold your breath- the event is so prosaic and common, that you may suspect that I truly lead a most boring life), I get a new job.

Not a big deal. For you, maybe. The job was in a different city and I had to resign in the middle of the month. I had a notice period of one month, which I am meant to serve and then join the new organisation.

So for one and a half months there was no income. Now you are starting to get the damn reason I wrote this piece. For people yet to unravel the great mysteries of the Wonder World, when you resign all your pay is withheld till the magic "Full and Final" settlement.

Relocation is not easy. It requires tons of money. Monies that will be reimbursed by the new organisation and not paid for. Where do you get such money?

Parents you say, with an obvious shrug. I know too. It's just that once I have stepped into this Wonder World (or ya-ya land, take your pick) I have felt a great discomfort in asking them for money. But I yield, only a little bit. They have moved into a new flat and I should not exert further pressure- I decide.

Friends. My trusted girlfriend comes to the rescue. So does another great friend (male friend - who I've been incidentally linked up with - a proof of how debased our humour is. And by this I mean no disrespect to the gay community). They help me pull up. But there is yet something missing.

The Credit Card comes to the rescue. It may not buy a lot of gold, but it sure made sure that I am not made to do something desperate. Desperate measures, when you come to think of it, could mean several things. Selling your kidney (only a trip to Gurgaon), selling your body (I'm sure there were army wives in Noida), picking pockets (risky but I can always claim I'm an addict) and to beg (I suspect I'll be no good at it, despite my poverty stricken looks).

So who or what's a man's best friend - a dog? Don't amuse me. Faced with the above situation, the dog at best will give a good lick. And look cute. Real friends can only help so much. I am blessed with an awesome lady as a girlfriend (although she does not return the favour, understandably I may add) and generous parents. But sometimes even they have constraints.

The credit card helps you invariably. It may kill you later but makes sure you live today. I lived. Yet to pay but.

So you meet a pretty girl somewhere and you have zilch (pocket and savings account). How do things work out?

So you see something that you've always wanted and it's coming at a discount. But again you have zilch. You give it up? Give me a break!

So it's honeymoon time and you are made responsible to hold up your family's pride. Then?

I stand up for this- the Credit Card is my best friend!

The bleeding heart liberals please note that this was meant to be a non-serious post. I acknowledge the fleecing behaviour of the banks and the private sector in general. I also acknowledge the exploitative machinations of capitalism and it's gruesome cousin imperialism. I also acknowledge the fact that a friend has other uses (!!!) than lending money.

The portrait of mine

All of us are portraits. Some are being drawn, the canvas almost unblemished, some are complete, resplendent with their colours and some are almost finished, on the verge of getting tested by dust, air and water.

I am one too. I have never looked at mine, because it's impossible to. Most of us don't have a mirror. I suspect none of us do.

I hear descriptions of mine, by admirers and even detractors. Some are flattering, some are not. I love to hear them all. I envy them for knowing more about me than I do. I envy them for being on the other side.

I want to see mine- I know I can't. But the desire never goes away. I get plenty of time. I try to figure myself. Maybe I am like this, I imagine. Then I wait for the next observer. Gives me great pleasure when my diagnosis is proved correct. Well, not every time, especially when he points out things I don't want to hear.

Sometimes I worry the paint is coming off. The dust and the vapours are taking their toll. People touch me- they disturb the surface. Some who care enough redraw me. But only in parts.

The paint is drying.

It feels nice.

Judgement?

Imagine this:

In a small village deep into the Indian hinterland, a senior government official has been caught in a compromising situation with a tribal woman. Enraged tribals take swift action- they maim the perpetrator of sexual exploitation.

Some of us would nod and say "justice done". Some would be shocked at both the events and wonder what the world is coming to. Some (most?) would ignore the news as unimportant to the larger scheme of things. I'd be darn confused.

I can never think of having a physical act with a tribal woman. It's not because I'm a morally uptight young man who holds great promise for himself and the nation. It's because of the doctrine of class.

It is my indoctrination that prevents me from looking at tribal or any working class "lady" in a lustful manner. I cannot get myself to imagine such a thing- its beyond sacrilege. I am clear about their position in my mind- insignificant.

But here is someone who has transcended such a boundary and made love to an inferior class. As long as it is a consensual act, how is he to be blamed? Doesn't it deserve praise, if not emulation? Certainly not reproach, or punishment.

I am not sure about this as I am not sure about most things. The power system in a village is unknown to me. In spite of generalities, what if in a solitary incident, there was no co-ercion involved?

The Challenge of Mediocrity

Picking up threads from my last post on excellence, I wish to say today that I have gradually realised the need for excellence. Mediocrity, unseemly as it may be, is very difficult to accept. Especially to the person himself.

A general trend is noticeable in the more popular forms of expression (books, cinema)- the veneration of excellence is gradually supplanted by an acceptance of difference and even mediocrity. My idea is that when a society develops itself, strives for self-preservation, idolising excellence serves a very important purpose. Acceptance of mediocrity there will be akin to suicide. A very Darwinian process in action.

But as we get affluent, we wish to "go slow" and even consider the unfortunate. We think beyond clothes and shelter and explore the "humanitarian" side. From thereon we question the hitherto veneration of excellence. The grandiose plan to develop a more "inclusive" society where we can envelop who are not the best gradually gets germinated.

It is important to do so. Otherwise it becomes logically difficult to differentiate from other animals. If basic instincts were the sole drivers of our mind, we have no right to declare ourselves "supreme" and just relegate to an intelligent animal being. Human rights, Civil rights, secularism, Animal rights and so on gets its origin from such a "conscience".

But on a personal level, is it easy to accept mediocrity?

I have not been able to.

I have no special abilities. There is nothing I can do better than the average Joe (or Rahul). Therein stems the lack of motivation to do anything; purposefully and with zeal. Everything that you do has the stamp of " just going through the motions".

The initial phase is most depressing. You wish to cry out in despair- hoping the howls would drown out the frustration. Wailing helps- it dries up the energy and makes you numb.

Slowly the drudgery bores you. The mind gets restless. Sometimes you wish to do silly things, go mad (only for a while) if it gives you some respite. It only works for a while. Controlled insanity hardly helps.

You take recourse to sadism. In an aggressive mood, you wish to hit out. In an acerbic state, your tongue does the lashing. Pinching comments here and there, under the garb of "humour" and "tease", achieves the ephemeral pleasure of causing discomfort and pain to others.

"Love" may hit you. An uncontrollable release of emotions - perhaps mankind's highest state of emotional responsiveness. Alas, a true "mediocre" is mediocre here too, in the art of love. Practical considerations also mean the mediocre loses his love to the magnificent.

I fail to see any reason, a purpose behind this meaningless and perhaps more significantly tortuous existence. Amusingly, the mediocre seeks solace in time. He makes himself to believe time will wash it all away, redress it all.

With time, he finds out the inevitable- that time doesn't help, as does nothing else. A bore well of a life doesn't even offer depth to rescue from nothingness.

The mediocre is sometimes a coward. He does not have the courage to do what is necessary.

Welcome to the land of the plenty!

I write this piece with great apprehension. If this ever gets out to the comrades at JNU, they'd lynch me at broad daylight. Well, I'll give them the benefit of the doubt- they are right, of course.

The title probably gives it away. Yes, probably after all these years, we've arrived. It took us some time. I shudder to think of what our fathers and granddads have gone through- no brands, zero choice in cars and not even coke (I mean only the cola and nothing else). No Subways, Macdonalds or KFC. Probably very little in terms of pre marital sex (imagine you're 28 and still relying on your hands!) and though they had ample compensation after the wedlock, I'm sure it was more of a perfunctory nature and not much fun involved.

Malnutrition was a problem then. "Doodh pee le beta"- the onus was on gaining around the waists. People used to play on the grounds- no, not just in school or college (which still goes on) but in neighborhood playgrounds. Chee! I mean how can you expect children of all kinds to mix like that? I'm sure that's why so many people use expletives (and in Hindi, too). We see hardly of that today. Sure, there are expletives in the American, but they are hardly the same as those crude hinterland ones.

Record numbers go to VLCC today. Everyone is trying to be on a diet- its honestly difficult. We even have Wimpy's. Burger King is about to come. Neighborhood playgrounds? you can play anytime on the computer. Why would someone try to fraternize with the neighbors when you can make friends with the whole wide world? And there's so much variety. The oldies had only cricket (Hockey and football in some places, Tennis for the fortunate). We have skateboarding, skiing, soccer, ice hockey, basketball, stealing cars, killing people- all without breaking into sweat. Literally cool.

Hands are also not so handy anymore. There are people willing to lend their mouths, who the hell will use their hands? And we have pills baba. Very effective ones too, without side-effects that plagued the generations last.

We don't need monsters to play our music. Now they come in Nano sizes. We get so much music in our cars now and now with a Nano car, things are only going to get a little louder. Jobs? This is where we rock! Engineering, medicine, IAS? ha! Anything can get you a job. You just have to have the right attitude! (by the way, there has been tomes written on figuring out what is right, and the unanimous declaration is the right candidate must not introduce himself/herself as "Myself...")

Our dads and grandies used to look at the skies for DAs (Dearness Allowances). We do the same, but for 30% pay hikes year-on-year. Makes people laugh that often the dudes start at a pay on which their dads retire. To the geezers, a career meant stability. Five-six, even ten years in one job was mandatory. I see adverts seeking people with 4 months of job experience.

Holding hands in public was taboo. Having a baby before marraige is taboo now.

Yet we are "frustated". I see no reason why not.

P.S.- Let me put all this in the right perspective. I count myself as one of the "frustated" lot (honestly). Rarely a day passes without me fretting over how things could have been better. All this in spite of knowing that very few (still) get what is written above or what I have.