August 29, 2007

My India

Sis never fails to surprise me. Be it a sudden phone call, be it her memory and attention to the most minute of details, she is always one step ahead of the smartest people I have met in my life. But yesterday she surprised me by sending in this picture.






They say pictures speak a thousand words. This picture perhaps sums up all that I have tried to say in my blog about the floods in Bihar all this while.





There are some people in this world who have the ability to laugh at anything life throws at them. And in these parts of India I have found such people aplenty. There are problems I admit, but then very few things in this world are perfect. We can opt to crib about what we do not have or fruitlessly blame the system or we can take a cue from people who are fighters to the very end. I have seen similar tales of grit and determination over the last few months. I have seen the same smile on the faces of people forced to abandon their homes.





At least the gentleman in the picture saved his last precious possession. I have seen Gandak destroy everything and everyone along its banks.



August 19, 2007

Pataliputra



Long long ago, in the glory days of Indian civilization, there used to be a kingdom called Magadh, one of the erstwhile Mahajanapads of India. Though the world remembers Porus and his famous clash with Alexander, it was Chandragupta Maurya who put an end to the first invasion of the Indus and Ganges by the West and established the Mauryan Empire. This was the age that gave India it’s own Machiavelli in the form of the shrewd Kautilya, whose Artha Sashtra is something I believe should be a part of the curriculum in any B school of the world. The kingdom centred around its capital, Pataliputra and thus began India’s peaceful invasion into foreign lands holding the hands of a powerful new religion, Buddhism. It was the land that gave India its greatest emperors. This was the land that not only nurtured the World’s Greatest Religions but also gave Modern India its direction post independence holding the hands of Ashoka. And here in Pataliputra, known today as Patna I continued my love story with Bihar.



The first thing that struck me was how an entire civilization had been wiped off by the hands of time. Today the glory days of the past are remnant only in the names of hotels around me, Chanakya, Maurya, Pataliputra Ashok etc etc. The town is an urban jungle like most other capital cities in the country, the only difference being that the right of the road has been clearly distinguished here. In Patna, the first right to use the roads lies with the cows, next come cars with the red lights, then auto rickshaws, then the cars with the yellow lights, then rickshaws, then motorbikes with helmet less riders and finally to the common man. In fact, Patna is the only city where rickshaws are allowed everywhere. A capital city with no public transport! I think this has been accepted by the people around.



Like other Indian Metros, Patna too is witnessing the coming up of a large number of flyovers. And when it rains like it has been raining for the last one month, things go completely berserk. Standing instructions are always to leave the road to the buffalos under such a situation. The city is the first in Bihar to experience the entry of Modern Retail and it would be interesting to see how things turn out in the long run.



But everything put together, I find Patna a nice city. The Gandhi Maidan at the centre of the city serves as the heart of Patna. It has its own Cannaught Place in the form of Maurya Lok which serves an amazing variety of Panipuris. The Sanjay Gandhi Botanical Garden, which laymen like us will call Patna Zoo is the ‘Patna ki fefra’ by its own admission. The Ganges is nearby making everyone admit that it’s all right to waste water in ‘jis diesh mein Ganga behti hain’. The people of Patna also have a favourite pastime wherein they take you to visit the House of Laloo. Though the erstwhile first couple of Bihar has shifted from their famous Anne Marg residence, their new house still has hundreds of visitors lined up every day for the ‘darshan’. And there are shamianas put up for them.



The month I spent at the capital of Bihar was enlightening. Always of the opinion that as a free citizen of a free nation it’s shameful to be afraid of anything anywhere and at anytime within the boundaries of the country, I was pretty chilled out. But then one night during the course of returning from work, scenes from Omkara, Shool, Apharan and Kalyug kept flashing before my eyes. Every story we hear has a beginning in a grain of truth.



And yet, four of us could safely walk back to our hotel in the dead of the night without any worries after a rather eventful show of Partner in the night show at a nearby movie hall, where they serve free samosas to ‘Diamond’ ticket holders.





Classics heard while at work in Patna,




“Look at your side. That’s where the Indian Airlines Flight crashed sometime back.”



“You want a helmet? Don’t worry, no one will say anything.” (Personal Safety????)





“Do anything in Patna. Just never get on the wrong side of the Police.”



“That’s the police station public set fire to yesterday,”





“Sir, we know why you are here.” (Something I did not want further clarification on)



“Sir, Madamji bhi saath aayi hain kya?” (Spluttered tea all over)





Nothing remains complete without a mention of the splurge I make on food invariably wherever I go. In that aspect, Patna is an expensive city, something I found very strange in Bihar. Even before the floods hit the state, the cost of the vegetables in the mandis had been higher than I had witnessed in Calcutta. Anyway, Patna is a heaven for anyone who loves a good dish of mutton. In fact, after seeing Chicken Dosa on the menu at a hotel in Bangalore I had convinced myself that few things on an Indian’s platter could surprise me, and yet there was an extremely popular dish called Chura Mutton. It’s basically a mutton preparation accompanying a healthy dose of chura. Next in line would be Litti Chokha. If there’s anything Bihar eats more than Samosas, it has to be Litti. And then of course there is Makahana, something that seems to grow under water and the seeds pop up like American corn at your nearest movie theatre. It seems that’s the biggest export of the Mithila Belt.



Most of us, including me, make this direct connection between the Bhojpuri dialect and Bihar. But the place where I have been for a considerable time now, swears by Maithili. The Maithili songs are immensely melodious, specially the folk versions. It seems it would not be a bad idea to research a bit on the origins of the folk music but somehow work prevents me from doing that.






Bihar continues to struggle under the worst flood in decades.


August 17, 2007

Fear

It was an afternoon like any other. I was at the market, trying to see if any nuggets of consumer insight could come my way. The wait was in vain. All approach roads to Muzaffarpur had been cut off. The feeder market was servicing itself and trying to stay alive. And then suddenly it happened.

A cycle came running in from the direction of the Akaharaghat Bridge. The rider seemed in a state of shock. The traders were out from their shop in an instant. The man stabilized after a moment and then gave the news. The embankments on the sides of Gandak had given away. The water was moving in and would soon flood the last remaining island in the district, the city of Muzaffarpur.

They say bad news travels fast. I still have the news alert sent on my mobile by Airtel, “Buri Gandak dam has given away”. Within minutes I saw the market clear off. The main city market bore the desolate look it adorns at night and I stood there wondering. After a long time in my life, I saw panic in the eyes of the people around me, i could sense the fear in the atmosphere. We were like mice trapped in a cage which some cruel boy playfully was letting down into a bucket full of water. Nature was playing with us.

The entire incident took place in exactly 8 minutes and yet, everything seemed to happen in slow motion.
Fear, it cripples even the sense of time.

The Latest TV Ads

Recently Government enforced ban on the screening of few ads on Indian Television. And though it warranted a post as much as a post on our new President, sometimes age and work begins to tell on you.

Let’s write then about simpler things. About ads that seem to stand out amongst the ones that we get bombarded with everyday. The first one definitely is the one of Iodex. The gentleman sees a Rs. 500 note lying on the ground, pauses for a while and walks away and while you wonder if some ethical message is due soon, Iodex tells you that relieving back pain can be a good idea.

The “Gorgeous Hamesha” ad by a hair oil(Parachute). Beautiful music, something you would not want to swap with your remote and that’s where it succeeds, in capturing its audience. By the way, her name is Kritika Kamra.

Alpenliebe and Kajol. One of the most talented actresses, (though wasted in the ad as she possibly won’t be identified by the target audience with a candy) she carries around the alligator with her with ease. I just hope that she is not inspiring youngsters to throw food at the animals at our zoos.

Airtel. Though I crib while uploading every post of mine about the irregular connectivity of my cellular network and my internet, I love the ideas that the airtel ads come up with. The one with the little kid, the rains and a father in the middle of a desert pulls at your heart.

The Latest TV Ads

Recently Government enforced ban on the screening of few ads on Indian Television. And though it warranted a post as much as a post on our new President, sometimes age and work begins to tell on you.


Let’s write then about simpler things. About ads that seem to stand out amongst the ones that we get bombarded with everyday. The first one definitely is the one of Iodex. The gentleman sees a Rs. 500 note lying on the ground, pauses for a while and walks away and while you wonder if some ethical message is due soon, Iodex tells you that relieving back pain can be a good idea.


The “Gorgeous Hamesha” ad by Parachute. Beautiful music, something you would not want to swap with your remote and that’s where it succeeds, in capturing its audience. By the way, her name is Kritika Kamra.


Alpenliebe and Kajol. One of the most talented actresses, (though wasted in the ad as she possibly won’t be identified by the target audience with a candy) she carries around the alligator with her with ease. I just hope that she is not inspiring youngsters to throw food at the animals at our zoos.Airtel. Though I crib while uploading every post of mine about the irregular connectivity of my cellular network and my internet, I love the ideas that the Airtel ads come up with. The one with the little kid, the rains and a father in the middle of a desert pulls at your heart.

Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi

In the 60th year of our independence, I came across this article in one of my old saved texts, written by Sudhir Mishra, the director of this beautiful movie. Living in Bihar where around half of the movie is based and where like me, the three main protagonists rediscovered themselves every single day, the thousand desires of a forgotten generation seemed to reach out to me. The Generation that they represented was a generation before mine but letting go of the past is something that we Indians are not very good at.

To India, my Native land... Derozio knew what he was talking about.
Here is the article...
"At the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India shall awake to light and freedom..."

That was India's first Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru, addressing the about-to-be independent nation. Panditji, as he was fondly called, was getting a bit carried away and committing a horological error. When India awoke to "light and freedom", the world was NOT asleep. It was, for instance, 2 in the afternoon in New York.

However, most in my father's generation overlooked these minor aberrations. They loved him and believed in the "light and freedom" angle of his dream. They needed to. Because there was 'darkness' all around. More than a million had been killed during the partition of India and they had inherited an impoverished nation from the British in more ways than one.

By this time my elder brother and sisters (not that I had any) went to college in the late '60s, the Nehruvian dream had faded and India was being crushed under the weight of a thousand desires.

A Maoist inspired extreme left movement had erupted in the eastern state of Bengal and the long suppressed lower caste of India were finally reacting..

This is the story of my imaginary siblings' reaction to those times. And as I tried to tell the story, certain characters emerged and surprised me with where they wanted to go. It became a story of how one begins life in a certain way, but how it takes twists in ways unimagined. Of how the 'worst' can be in the 'best' and how the 'best' resides in the 'worst'.

So while it may be the story of a generation I idolized and saw dissipating, a generation that I still have faith in, and which will gasp one more time before dying, it is also my story. Because the best and the worst of India also resides within me.
If someone is interested further, here is another article.

August 07, 2007

Vijay Deenanath Chavan

Set Max was screening Agneepath. Everytime I compare it with Scarface, it wins every single time simply because of this amazing piece of Poetry by the Late Harivansh Rai Bachhan.
Agneepath Agneepath Agneepath,
Vriksh ho bhale ghane, ho ghane ho bade,
Ek pat chhav ki mang mat, mang mat,
Agneepath Agneepath Agneepath.
Tu na thakega kabhi, tu na thamega kabhi, tu na mudega kabhi,
Kar shapath, kar shapath, kar shapath,
Agneepath, Agneepath, Agneepath.
Ye mahaan drishya hai,
chal raha manushya hai,
Ashru shwet raqt se lathpath, lathpath, lathpath,
Agneepath, Agneepath, Agneepath.
Set Max seems to be hell bent on destroying my plans of waking up early. They have started screening Guddi. At least I'll clean up my excel sheets.

Friendship Day

Before the age old debate starts about keeping aside a specific day for any emotion or relationship, I would like to make my stand clear. I do not mind it. What I mind is that when such a specific day comes the chords in the heart start playing the old forgotten numbers, once patched wounds let out the pain stored hidden in them and Airtel begins to send you irritating messages to download yet another ring tone.

And yet, somehow that got me thinking. Almost 10 years ago, a little girl called me up to stop by her house after school so that she could give me her self made Friendship Band. One of the very few to wear such a thing to school, I was in for a surprise next year. Suddenly everyone in school seemed to be talking about it. And my little girl kept on making the bands for me till I left for Pilani.

We were growing up. On our way back from school, we put on our smug, little chauvinistic faces and discussed the demerits of an Archies outlet near a Girl's School. And I'm sure every single one of that gang of ours secretly wished the other would get the 'Guy' Bands made for ourselves.

In Pilani, it used to come just after the new session started and it seemed to be fading away in importance. But I was proven wrong from my second year onwards. People made preparations for it during the summer holidays itself. A dinner at C'not was the minimum one could ask for.

At IIMB, we were reminded of it by the cards sent from Old Friends. In your first year, you hardly knew anyone and by the time you got to know people, it was time to leave.

And today, all alone in a hotel, engulfed in silence broken only by the Rabindrasangeet on my laptop, and the occasional shout of a drunken reveler in the roads, it seems that time travel is a necessity in such times.

Two songs come to mind, the first one is for all those who I want to grow old with, who I want to meet for the last time if suddenly I know the world is coming to an end tomorrow.

Old Friends - Simon and Garfunkel


Old friends,
Old friends
Sat on their park bench
Like bookends.
A newspaper blown though the grass
Falls on the round toes
Of the high shoes
Of the old friends.

Old friends,
Winter companions,
The old men
Lost in their overcoats,
Waiting for the sunset.
The sounds of the city,
Sifting through trees,
Settle like dust
On the shoulders
Of the old friends.

Can you imagine us
Years from today,
Sharing a park bench quietly?
How terribly strange
To be seventy.
Old friends,
Memory brushes the same years
Silently sharing the same fears


The Second one is for the wish that I could have made up for all that happened. I wish we could have one more chance.

Friends Never Say Goodbye - Elton John

There isn't much I haven't shared
With you along the road
And through it all there'd always be
Tomorrow's episode
Suddenly that isn't true
There's another avenue
Beckoning the great divide
Ask no questions, take no side
Who's to say who's right or wrong
Whose course is braver run
Still we are, have always been
Will ever be as one

What is done has been done for the best
Though the mist in my eyes might suggest
Just a little confusion about what I'll lose
But if I started over I know I would choose
The same joy the same sadness each step of the way
That fought me and tought me that friends never say
Never say goodbye
Never say goodbye
Never say goodbye
Never say goodbye

Suddenly that isn't true
There's another avenue
Beckoning, the great divide
I would choose
The same joy the same sadness each step of the way
That fought me and taught me that friends never say
Never say goodbye
Never say goodbye
Never say goodbye
Never say goodbye


To Friends, old and new and not yet met...

August 03, 2007

Mera Bharat Mahaan

Every news channel and newspaper has been carrying horror stories of the floods that we are witnessing and yet everything seems so peaceful. People have left their houses to live in the school buildings and yet everything is peaceful. At times, I silently pray for a boat service in the main roads of the city and yet everyone here is at peace. Everyone has come to expect certain things in Bihar. There will be rains, the rivers will not be de-silted and the drains will not be cleaned and of course Nepal will let go of its excess water. Everyone believes in Chalta hain. Sab kuch yahan pe chalta hain. Since our childhood we have been taught to adjust. We adjust to everything around us. And as I fret and fume I hear myself telling a newcomer, don’t worry Chalta Hain. Almost 5 lakh people displaced in Bihar alone and yet sabkuch Chalta hain. The National Highway 57 is now a refuge for people displaced from their homes and yet Sabkuch Chalta hain.

These were some of the headlines in Today’s TOI:

Bagmati shows rising trends again

District Administration orders closure of schools

Rivers flowing over danger mark

Passengers stranded at Samastipur

NH-57: The home for homeless

Kareh embankment breaches at two places

And while the world around them did not care a fig about it and I with all my high and mightiness was just a mere spectator ranting at night on my keyboard, there were people who collected funds out of their own will to send Chura and Gur to as many families as possible. Yes, it’s true that given a chance, I would not allow that anywhere near human consumption but when hunger strikes and water dances all around you in its mad ecstasy of destruction, I guess you don’t have a choice.

Sandrine had asked me while she was at IIMB on exchange, “What gives you so much confidence about your country?” The answers I had given then were somehow not satisfactory even to me. But today, seeing the sun after almost a fortnight and humming “Sunshine on my shoulders” as I watched people pack the food relief, I knew this was the answer I was looking for.

The Essence of Arbit

ATF was an idea formed out of nothing, for arbitness had no beginning or no end. A form of protest against the mundane by Dangerous Minds undergoing equally Dangerous Liasions. It was the greatest example of Brand Building, self sustaining, unrestricted, all encompassing.

And yet, like all great brands, it was usurped by the 'me-too's of the world. And each one of them claimed to be the original or even better than the original. The conceptualizers made an attempt to re-build the brand, but the damage was done. With the loss in exclusivity, ATF slowly lost its significance. And suddenly no one bothered anymore.

Great Brands... they often die a nameless death.


The Essence of Arbit

ATF was an idea formed out of nothing, for arbitness had no beginning or no end. A form of protest against the mundane by Dangerous Minds undergoing equally Dangerous Liasions. It was the greatest example of Brand Building, self sustaining, unrestricted, all encompassing.

And yet, like all great brands, it was usurped by the 'me-too's of the world. And each one of them claimed to be the original or even better than the original. The conceptualizers made an attempt to re-build the brand, but the damage was done. With the loss in exclusivity, ATF slowly lost its significance. And suddenly no one bothered anymore.

Great Brands... they often die a nameless death.