And it was at that age ... Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.
I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names,
my eyes were blind,
and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire,
and I wrote the first faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open,
planets,
palpitating plantations,
shadow perforated,
riddled
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the winding night, the universe.
And I, infinitesimal being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke loose on the wind.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Destruction like never before
Humanity, like humans, changes its color under various lights. Set against an apocalyptic background what does it mean? Who would be the benefactor and who would be the victim of your humanity? I am not sure if we could be represented by just a single voice and single theory saying " Open the gates, save everyone".Like it happened in the movie 2012 I saw a while ago.
I've never seen anyone, either in movies or real life, have so many near misses as the main protagonist and his family in 2012. The introduction scene of the chemistry between the heroine and her second husband in a supermarket is worth a laugh. They are shopping for macaroni in a super market and this guy suddenly says "Let's make our own baby". And right when they start discussing what keeps them apart there is a fissure running right between them. Obviously, the universe got angry. CNN reports zero casualties later. That's another story anyway.
Let's focus. I see this is a much harder statement to make in the times of apocalypse, but I am mistaken. The hero and the family are so focused that they escape all the moving fronts of lava, oil tanks exploding, buildings falling over and guess what, they even knock off the head of the empire state building and feel good about it. Finally they have been offered a chance to be naughty with this whole apocalypse thing. As an Aerospace Engineer, I haven't seen a better propeller airplane in air-travel history. The flight is less turbulent than it would be in normal, non-apocalyptic times when the same obstacles are placed. The second husband, a doctor who has a few hours of flying experience with his wax wings completes this operation successfully. I was already amazed and felt safe for the protagonists. I realized they are never going to die.
The US president, a black man ( for Barack Obama) likes to stay back in the White House instead of boarding Air Force one and then onto a ship protecting everyone. A Nobel gesture. Except him, all the heads of the states of US-EU combine are there in the main ship. The other nine ships are filled with Indian and Chinese. All the European leaders rally behind the German Chancellor and she speaks for Europe in her grand English. Queen Elizabeth is seen hurrying towards the ship with two of her poodles.
Lot of rich and powerful get into the ship which is supposed to save the best in species and try to re-populate the Earth if required. There are animals too on this Noah's Ark but not enough room for other humans who clamor to open the gates. The protagonist and his extended family get into the ship. They had to. However, a tragedy strikes them when the door tries to close.The second husband tries some heroism ( which he shouldn't beyond the initial scenes) and gets stuck between the gears and dies. I knew, the stage is getting ready for the grand finish.
The finish is equally jaw dropping and let me put it straight, the gates open and the sky is clear. A new world map is drawn. Himalayas sink to zero and there is a mountain range near Cape of Good Hope and the captain of the ship informs "That is why, it is called Cape of Good Hope, sir". Supposedly, a deep statement. Anyway, the movie closes with the protagonists kissing and me walking away contemplating how fate can leave a bruise with a kiss in the form of 2012.
I've never seen anyone, either in movies or real life, have so many near misses as the main protagonist and his family in 2012. The introduction scene of the chemistry between the heroine and her second husband in a supermarket is worth a laugh. They are shopping for macaroni in a super market and this guy suddenly says "Let's make our own baby". And right when they start discussing what keeps them apart there is a fissure running right between them. Obviously, the universe got angry. CNN reports zero casualties later. That's another story anyway.
Let's focus. I see this is a much harder statement to make in the times of apocalypse, but I am mistaken. The hero and the family are so focused that they escape all the moving fronts of lava, oil tanks exploding, buildings falling over and guess what, they even knock off the head of the empire state building and feel good about it. Finally they have been offered a chance to be naughty with this whole apocalypse thing. As an Aerospace Engineer, I haven't seen a better propeller airplane in air-travel history. The flight is less turbulent than it would be in normal, non-apocalyptic times when the same obstacles are placed. The second husband, a doctor who has a few hours of flying experience with his wax wings completes this operation successfully. I was already amazed and felt safe for the protagonists. I realized they are never going to die.
The US president, a black man ( for Barack Obama) likes to stay back in the White House instead of boarding Air Force one and then onto a ship protecting everyone. A Nobel gesture. Except him, all the heads of the states of US-EU combine are there in the main ship. The other nine ships are filled with Indian and Chinese. All the European leaders rally behind the German Chancellor and she speaks for Europe in her grand English. Queen Elizabeth is seen hurrying towards the ship with two of her poodles.
Lot of rich and powerful get into the ship which is supposed to save the best in species and try to re-populate the Earth if required. There are animals too on this Noah's Ark but not enough room for other humans who clamor to open the gates. The protagonist and his extended family get into the ship. They had to. However, a tragedy strikes them when the door tries to close.The second husband tries some heroism ( which he shouldn't beyond the initial scenes) and gets stuck between the gears and dies. I knew, the stage is getting ready for the grand finish.
The finish is equally jaw dropping and let me put it straight, the gates open and the sky is clear. A new world map is drawn. Himalayas sink to zero and there is a mountain range near Cape of Good Hope and the captain of the ship informs "That is why, it is called Cape of Good Hope, sir". Supposedly, a deep statement. Anyway, the movie closes with the protagonists kissing and me walking away contemplating how fate can leave a bruise with a kiss in the form of 2012.
Tsunami in Telugu film songs
The Tsunami that hit Asian Coastlines in 2004 left a tragic mark on many lives. How a great tragedy affects us is truly a difficult thing to assess.The physical loss of property is minuscule compared to the effect on the minds and hearts of people. Nevertheless, Time, the great healer helps us in moving on. The memories of the loss remind us of how deep a tragedy it was. These are scars that time leaves on our body. Each scar is a story in itself.
One of the many after-effects of this tragedy is the absorption of the word "Tsunami" into various languages. It is being used to refer to something big and of the scale of a Juggernaut. This seems to be unstoppable. Telugu film industry, which is located much interior from the coastline has been an indirect victim of the great tragedy. The dialogue writers wait opportunely to increase their vocabulary and leave ugly stretch marks on the scenes. The song writers are not behind. They have their own thing going on using the T-word liberally in the item songs and other inanities.
Who writes these things?Do they break their nibs after finishing such a song? They certainly have broken the neck of the standards.
(Please excuse me for not quoting any evidence, but trust me I have heard this in lot of songs written down during the last five years. Do look out for such patterns in the movies/songs you watch/listen)
One of the many after-effects of this tragedy is the absorption of the word "Tsunami" into various languages. It is being used to refer to something big and of the scale of a Juggernaut. This seems to be unstoppable. Telugu film industry, which is located much interior from the coastline has been an indirect victim of the great tragedy. The dialogue writers wait opportunely to increase their vocabulary and leave ugly stretch marks on the scenes. The song writers are not behind. They have their own thing going on using the T-word liberally in the item songs and other inanities.
Who writes these things?Do they break their nibs after finishing such a song? They certainly have broken the neck of the standards.
(Please excuse me for not quoting any evidence, but trust me I have heard this in lot of songs written down during the last five years. Do look out for such patterns in the movies/songs you watch/listen)
Monday, January 25, 2010
Songs of life
William Blake, the 19th century poet from England collected his poetry under two titles - Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience. Both these had poems on similar subjects but with different take and thoughts. I am not sure if these were separated by time. Innocence when he was young and Experience at a later stage. The reason for my uncertainty is Blake's enormous amount of intuition even in his youth. He was gifted with a strong sense of imagery that he even had visions before he wrote.
Talking about imagery, Wordsworth left on me a lasting impression. In "Daffodils", his timeless piece there is an eternal reserve of nectar for me. There may be many great appreciations written for this poem but the fact that it stood the test of time is a measure of its travel. Generally, when I write something out of the box, i.e., my brain, I tend to go back to it with almost a phobic diligence and see where, I mean exactly where that magic happened. Then I ponder how it happened and the question why it happened is for my Freudian friends. But what did wordsworth do after he wrote this? Did he take that casual walk in the park after a great accomplishment? I don't know. But he must have felt so much joy that he could kill himself. A sense of fulfillment that, "Yes, exactly, this is it. I was here for this and now it's done". However, he stayed on till today.
Another poet who has a two-line intrusion into my life is Keats. When I was in high school there was not a single piece of his. Agreeably,I found out later, he was too romantic for that age. Love for us was only talking to girls and that too plain-speak. Poetry was beyond the curriculum. Anyway, moving on. The two lines are
"A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness;"
This is the start of a long, long poem called Endymion which today people would not be interested to read unless there are good grades at the end of the tunnel. And the length was often the reason why I never ventured into anything beyond three hundred lines. I don't remember any of it now except the two lines. My father, who has this occasional jog into the English poetry boulevard, introduced me to some of the beautiful English poetry during my high school when I pretended that I could read poetry. Nevertheless he explained to me what it was, at least what his idea about the piece was. He would often with joy share an anecdote about how as Economics students they had boring classes and they used to stand near the window of the literature class to hear the Professor go on and on about Endymion. And arguably, he spent two weeks appreciating "A thing of beauty..". Not the whole thing, just the two lines.
Once upon a time, summers in Hyderabad were enjoyable. Especially the nights which used to be a lot cooler were perfect pretense for a digression into English Poetry. I would bring some of the old books which weren't sold and weren't eaten away by worms and start reading.My mother would bring me some snacks to eat and sit next to me to admire my parrot-like reading of those big English words. She always likes to see me speak in English and which I don't do often at home, even now. Reclining in his easy chair (which he still uses) my father would correct my pronunciation and explain the meaning of a phrase and occasionally recount an anecdote from his college days. How he used go onto the hills around his village herding the cows with a Shakespeare's book in hand and then read, whatever he read in that solitude. And now I get, why the intensities of experience are different between our two readings.Back to the summer night in Hyderabad now: We always read the same set of poems. At some point I had all those poems by heart and could quote from them. We didn't need books after that. We would just sit on the shores of a still pond of Poetry and admire the reflection of timeless imagery.
Talking about imagery, Wordsworth left on me a lasting impression. In "Daffodils", his timeless piece there is an eternal reserve of nectar for me. There may be many great appreciations written for this poem but the fact that it stood the test of time is a measure of its travel. Generally, when I write something out of the box, i.e., my brain, I tend to go back to it with almost a phobic diligence and see where, I mean exactly where that magic happened. Then I ponder how it happened and the question why it happened is for my Freudian friends. But what did wordsworth do after he wrote this? Did he take that casual walk in the park after a great accomplishment? I don't know. But he must have felt so much joy that he could kill himself. A sense of fulfillment that, "Yes, exactly, this is it. I was here for this and now it's done". However, he stayed on till today.
Another poet who has a two-line intrusion into my life is Keats. When I was in high school there was not a single piece of his. Agreeably,I found out later, he was too romantic for that age. Love for us was only talking to girls and that too plain-speak. Poetry was beyond the curriculum. Anyway, moving on. The two lines are
"A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness;"
This is the start of a long, long poem called Endymion which today people would not be interested to read unless there are good grades at the end of the tunnel. And the length was often the reason why I never ventured into anything beyond three hundred lines. I don't remember any of it now except the two lines. My father, who has this occasional jog into the English poetry boulevard, introduced me to some of the beautiful English poetry during my high school when I pretended that I could read poetry. Nevertheless he explained to me what it was, at least what his idea about the piece was. He would often with joy share an anecdote about how as Economics students they had boring classes and they used to stand near the window of the literature class to hear the Professor go on and on about Endymion. And arguably, he spent two weeks appreciating "A thing of beauty..". Not the whole thing, just the two lines.
Once upon a time, summers in Hyderabad were enjoyable. Especially the nights which used to be a lot cooler were perfect pretense for a digression into English Poetry. I would bring some of the old books which weren't sold and weren't eaten away by worms and start reading.My mother would bring me some snacks to eat and sit next to me to admire my parrot-like reading of those big English words. She always likes to see me speak in English and which I don't do often at home, even now. Reclining in his easy chair (which he still uses) my father would correct my pronunciation and explain the meaning of a phrase and occasionally recount an anecdote from his college days. How he used go onto the hills around his village herding the cows with a Shakespeare's book in hand and then read, whatever he read in that solitude. And now I get, why the intensities of experience are different between our two readings.Back to the summer night in Hyderabad now: We always read the same set of poems. At some point I had all those poems by heart and could quote from them. We didn't need books after that. We would just sit on the shores of a still pond of Poetry and admire the reflection of timeless imagery.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Two States
Telangana and Andhra, the uneasily co-existing brothers , are now agitating for a nuclear and a joint family respectively.A division operation almost always leaves quotient and a remainder. Due to multiple parties involved in the division, there are
multiple of them.
Here is a list of people who matter in the current political scene in Andhra Pradesh. Forget about any sentiments you may have or you may support. This is an end of the day balance sheet of who got what.
Late Dr.Y.S.Rajasekhara Reddy (YSR), Ex-Chief Minister:
He is a God now, graduating from his earlier demigod status. His image is now used only in the margins
of a placard. More akin to invoking "Jai Sriram" before the start of anything. He dreamt of a utopic state for his family, friends and the state, strictly in that order. His death in the helicopter crash was a curtain riser for the best show in A.P politics till now. Anyway, I had to invoke him before starting the actual list.
Mr.Rosaiah, Chief Minister:
He had got his stars right and became a CM just by living longer than his cabinet colleagues. He is a turtle. He is very slow from the wisdom he carries from the long innings he had till now. He has not gained much and won't lose much. He has no group of his own in congress and would be thrown out of margin soon. His 9-to-5-job attitude got him maximum returns and now he would definitely think of retiring.
Mr.N.Chandrababu Naidu, TDP Supremo:
He is in a fix now. He had inched closer to congress in 2009 State and General elections and might have taken on Congress very strongly in the absence of YSR in 2014 elections. He would have been busy formulating the vision of bringing in investments, which saw a slump under YSR, and also maintaining balance with the agriculture sector. Imbalance between the two along with continuous drought worked against him in 2004 state elections. The center's decision to split the state might have caught him unawares and spoiled his chance of a thumping victory in 2014 elections. Prominently, he has only one way out now: forming a Telangana TDP and moving to the Andhra state where the next big game hunting is. He would definitely stand out there, among the political saplings who are currently grappling for power. It would be interesting to see him build a capital for the new state, whichever city it may be.
K.Chandrsekhar Rao (KCR), TRS supremo:
Villages in Andhra Pradesh ( including Telangana) have village deities. After a bountiful harvest or during the time of a crisis, sacrifices are made to the deity for her blessings. KCR is a well decorated sacrificial sheep. His demand was for a separate state as soon as, he was out of TDP's uterus. He was a still born leader then. Fluctuating and fumbling in his strategies he resembled his blood sugar levels. But, as if in a trance from excessive toddy, he stuck to his strategy of going on a hunger strike. I haven't seen movements in recent years but the fire caught on quickly with this one. Potti Sriramulu, a Gandhian who sacrificed his life after 56 days of fast unto death seems to be a vague inspiration. KCR extracted a statement out of the center in 11 days. In the game of cards at 10 Janpath, KCR was always the joker on the Telangana card. He tried alliances with all the parties to see if things work but this was quite unlike the card game he plays at home. He did not succeed with anyone and came to a state of zero credibility with rebellion in his own party. Now he has to only wait till the new state forms and join Congress. More like a played card, a used shell. The Congress will steal the show from him in 2014 elections. Now he can retire or simply die out politically. His victory rallies are like ecstasy before death. He had a point to his life till now and he got it and that's the end.
K.Chiranjeevi, PRP Supremo:
A good hero with great dialogues but bad timing. He professed NTR as his inspiration (euphemism for imitation) to start a political party in the state. He broke into the scene with social justice as his main motto. Politicians from the OBC (Other Backward Class) section of TDP migrated to PRP with great dreams in their head. They were sleeping all the while. The movie was a flop in most of the centers in the state except in 18 constituencies. However, he was able to dent the TDP vote share which helped Congress to win the 2009 elections. He is a drawn card now. With his 15 of the 18 seats coming from Andhra region of the state he took quite some time in joining the demand for a unified state. He and his family, the only visible faces of the party, are ready to join Congress party of the Andhra region as soon as the doors are open. I wish him good luck on his tripping trips to Delhi.
Dr.Jayaprakash Narayan (JP), Lok Satta Supremo:
He envisions to bring in institutional reforms. A grand vision but needs mighty amount of political resolve. His party is still in a nascent stage and even if it is fully built, the response times for his call are two general elections away at least. He has nothing much to lose. He can now concentrate closely on the Andhra state and help in building some good institutions.
Y.S.Jagan Mohan Reddy (Jagan), YSR's son:
Analogies are badly understood. Sonia Gandhi:Rahul Gandhi (is not equal to) YSR:Jagan. He expected he would straight way walk into the secretarait from the last rite ceremony of his father. But things turned sour for him. Sonia Gandhi wanted to desperately control his growth so that he does not go on to become another YSR. His dad might have sent hundreds of crores extracted from Mining Brothers ( Reddy brothers from Bellary) to 10 Janpath. Nevertheless, there had to be a side tracking of Jagan and CBI cases on Mining brothers. This removed him from the fore ground of the political scene and he got deposed to another "son of a politician". Arguably, he is responsible for the resignation of the MLAs from Andhra and Rayalaseema regions there by getting back at Sonia and the groups who opposed his candidature for the CM post. But I doubt if he is that good a player. He might have covertly instigated the resignations but he himself is not in the foreground. Surely this fidelity would be rewarded by the High Command.
Sonia Gandhi and her strategy:
YSR loosened her hold on the party in AP but he was someone who gave 33 MPs to the center. This gave him good bargain in the projects for the state and funds for numerous schemes he started in the name of the dead of Nehru-Gandhi family. He was a bigger leader than he was cut out for by the High Command. His death left a political vacuum in the sate which was the right opportunity for Sonia to get back her hold. This is when she used the trump card called Telangana in a single sentence, mid-night statement issued by an over worked Chidambaram. Now she has become the hero (yet to be claimed) for the Telangana region where Congress, as a party that gave Telangana, is bound to cash the sentiment. There would be mid-term elections, after the formation of Telangana state is complete within 2 years. Handpicking candidates who are ready to dust her sandals, she would get her grip back from the current power groups.
Fasts unto death have already started in the Andhra region and are in full force now. Lagadapati Rajagopal is in the fore front from Congress and Devineni Umamaheshwar Rao (Uma) from the TDP side. Both these leaders are fighting for a better position in their parties in the separate Andhra state. I am not sure how the present stand off would be resolved but there must be some carrot to put to these fasting hares. The fight now is not for a unified state but it is for Hyderabad, the Kohinoor made out of thousands of crores of investment. This is the main point of contention. Geographically it is not possible for Hyderabad to be a capital of both the states. So the only way the investments can be protected is through a demand for a united state.
In her parleys with the ghosts of Indira Gandhi and Pandit Nehru, Sonia should blame Nehru for moving the captial from Kurnool to Hyderabad. Had it been Kurnool, it would easily be a union territory and a capital for both the states.
multiple of them.
Here is a list of people who matter in the current political scene in Andhra Pradesh. Forget about any sentiments you may have or you may support. This is an end of the day balance sheet of who got what.
Late Dr.Y.S.Rajasekhara Reddy (YSR), Ex-Chief Minister:
He is a God now, graduating from his earlier demigod status. His image is now used only in the margins
of a placard. More akin to invoking "Jai Sriram" before the start of anything. He dreamt of a utopic state for his family, friends and the state, strictly in that order. His death in the helicopter crash was a curtain riser for the best show in A.P politics till now. Anyway, I had to invoke him before starting the actual list.
Mr.Rosaiah, Chief Minister:
He had got his stars right and became a CM just by living longer than his cabinet colleagues. He is a turtle. He is very slow from the wisdom he carries from the long innings he had till now. He has not gained much and won't lose much. He has no group of his own in congress and would be thrown out of margin soon. His 9-to-5-job attitude got him maximum returns and now he would definitely think of retiring.
Mr.N.Chandrababu Naidu, TDP Supremo:
He is in a fix now. He had inched closer to congress in 2009 State and General elections and might have taken on Congress very strongly in the absence of YSR in 2014 elections. He would have been busy formulating the vision of bringing in investments, which saw a slump under YSR, and also maintaining balance with the agriculture sector. Imbalance between the two along with continuous drought worked against him in 2004 state elections. The center's decision to split the state might have caught him unawares and spoiled his chance of a thumping victory in 2014 elections. Prominently, he has only one way out now: forming a Telangana TDP and moving to the Andhra state where the next big game hunting is. He would definitely stand out there, among the political saplings who are currently grappling for power. It would be interesting to see him build a capital for the new state, whichever city it may be.
K.Chandrsekhar Rao (KCR), TRS supremo:
Villages in Andhra Pradesh ( including Telangana) have village deities. After a bountiful harvest or during the time of a crisis, sacrifices are made to the deity for her blessings. KCR is a well decorated sacrificial sheep. His demand was for a separate state as soon as, he was out of TDP's uterus. He was a still born leader then. Fluctuating and fumbling in his strategies he resembled his blood sugar levels. But, as if in a trance from excessive toddy, he stuck to his strategy of going on a hunger strike. I haven't seen movements in recent years but the fire caught on quickly with this one. Potti Sriramulu, a Gandhian who sacrificed his life after 56 days of fast unto death seems to be a vague inspiration. KCR extracted a statement out of the center in 11 days. In the game of cards at 10 Janpath, KCR was always the joker on the Telangana card. He tried alliances with all the parties to see if things work but this was quite unlike the card game he plays at home. He did not succeed with anyone and came to a state of zero credibility with rebellion in his own party. Now he has to only wait till the new state forms and join Congress. More like a played card, a used shell. The Congress will steal the show from him in 2014 elections. Now he can retire or simply die out politically. His victory rallies are like ecstasy before death. He had a point to his life till now and he got it and that's the end.
K.Chiranjeevi, PRP Supremo:
A good hero with great dialogues but bad timing. He professed NTR as his inspiration (euphemism for imitation) to start a political party in the state. He broke into the scene with social justice as his main motto. Politicians from the OBC (Other Backward Class) section of TDP migrated to PRP with great dreams in their head. They were sleeping all the while. The movie was a flop in most of the centers in the state except in 18 constituencies. However, he was able to dent the TDP vote share which helped Congress to win the 2009 elections. He is a drawn card now. With his 15 of the 18 seats coming from Andhra region of the state he took quite some time in joining the demand for a unified state. He and his family, the only visible faces of the party, are ready to join Congress party of the Andhra region as soon as the doors are open. I wish him good luck on his tripping trips to Delhi.
Dr.Jayaprakash Narayan (JP), Lok Satta Supremo:
He envisions to bring in institutional reforms. A grand vision but needs mighty amount of political resolve. His party is still in a nascent stage and even if it is fully built, the response times for his call are two general elections away at least. He has nothing much to lose. He can now concentrate closely on the Andhra state and help in building some good institutions.
Y.S.Jagan Mohan Reddy (Jagan), YSR's son:
Analogies are badly understood. Sonia Gandhi:Rahul Gandhi (is not equal to) YSR:Jagan. He expected he would straight way walk into the secretarait from the last rite ceremony of his father. But things turned sour for him. Sonia Gandhi wanted to desperately control his growth so that he does not go on to become another YSR. His dad might have sent hundreds of crores extracted from Mining Brothers ( Reddy brothers from Bellary) to 10 Janpath. Nevertheless, there had to be a side tracking of Jagan and CBI cases on Mining brothers. This removed him from the fore ground of the political scene and he got deposed to another "son of a politician". Arguably, he is responsible for the resignation of the MLAs from Andhra and Rayalaseema regions there by getting back at Sonia and the groups who opposed his candidature for the CM post. But I doubt if he is that good a player. He might have covertly instigated the resignations but he himself is not in the foreground. Surely this fidelity would be rewarded by the High Command.
Sonia Gandhi and her strategy:
YSR loosened her hold on the party in AP but he was someone who gave 33 MPs to the center. This gave him good bargain in the projects for the state and funds for numerous schemes he started in the name of the dead of Nehru-Gandhi family. He was a bigger leader than he was cut out for by the High Command. His death left a political vacuum in the sate which was the right opportunity for Sonia to get back her hold. This is when she used the trump card called Telangana in a single sentence, mid-night statement issued by an over worked Chidambaram. Now she has become the hero (yet to be claimed) for the Telangana region where Congress, as a party that gave Telangana, is bound to cash the sentiment. There would be mid-term elections, after the formation of Telangana state is complete within 2 years. Handpicking candidates who are ready to dust her sandals, she would get her grip back from the current power groups.
Fasts unto death have already started in the Andhra region and are in full force now. Lagadapati Rajagopal is in the fore front from Congress and Devineni Umamaheshwar Rao (Uma) from the TDP side. Both these leaders are fighting for a better position in their parties in the separate Andhra state. I am not sure how the present stand off would be resolved but there must be some carrot to put to these fasting hares. The fight now is not for a unified state but it is for Hyderabad, the Kohinoor made out of thousands of crores of investment. This is the main point of contention. Geographically it is not possible for Hyderabad to be a capital of both the states. So the only way the investments can be protected is through a demand for a united state.
In her parleys with the ghosts of Indira Gandhi and Pandit Nehru, Sonia should blame Nehru for moving the captial from Kurnool to Hyderabad. Had it been Kurnool, it would easily be a union territory and a capital for both the states.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Taxed mind
Taxpayer's money is something that is relished with much shamelessness.You and I are scared of asking for accountability. This is mainly because of lack of awareness, hesitation and laziness. We being lazy, makes someone else doubly so and starts snowballing, till the topguns are caught sleeping in the Loksabha. Where else one could find the best lullaby! Whatever it is, we should be happy that we are a democracy. There are rules and regulations written down, agreed British, but still existent and helpful. The problem is ignorance of these rules. Ignorance of rules makes us more vulnerable to the system. By system, I don't mean a mile-long red tape. It is nothing but the next person you meet, who tries to take advantage of your awareness. I say, be shameless and ask for the rules in fine print. You might not have time for this but you can go that extra inch. This would help in setting you up for deeper questioning that could be required in life.
Though Hugo Chavez is an elected dictator and silenced many of his opponents, I am appreciative of one thing about him. He got the constitution closer to the people. Though the constitution was anti-elite and played a Robin hood for the rich, the methods he employed in getting the people learn about the rules he made for them are appreciable. To achieve this, his government encouraged formation of groups in the neighborhood of each locality which read constitution as it meant to them. It was interpreted and then discussed in these groups. This increased people becoming more aware of their rights as well as duties. These readings happened every week like a Sunday Mass. We need something like that in every locality where people get together and try to understand their rights, wrongs and duties. I don't deny the existence of the co-operative societies, welfare associations for colonies, ward member committees...etc., These are mostly into having high tea and cream biscuits. Decentralization of powers which has to happen in its final form by giving more powers and funds to panchayats in the country is still under covers. Unless and until the authority flows from government to people we would be have a long way to go. Corruption is another issue. More elaborately on that in the next post.
Though Hugo Chavez is an elected dictator and silenced many of his opponents, I am appreciative of one thing about him. He got the constitution closer to the people. Though the constitution was anti-elite and played a Robin hood for the rich, the methods he employed in getting the people learn about the rules he made for them are appreciable. To achieve this, his government encouraged formation of groups in the neighborhood of each locality which read constitution as it meant to them. It was interpreted and then discussed in these groups. This increased people becoming more aware of their rights as well as duties. These readings happened every week like a Sunday Mass. We need something like that in every locality where people get together and try to understand their rights, wrongs and duties. I don't deny the existence of the co-operative societies, welfare associations for colonies, ward member committees...etc., These are mostly into having high tea and cream biscuits. Decentralization of powers which has to happen in its final form by giving more powers and funds to panchayats in the country is still under covers. Unless and until the authority flows from government to people we would be have a long way to go. Corruption is another issue. More elaborately on that in the next post.
Friday, September 18, 2009
All about a quack
In his heydays, he was very old. Now he is a fossil of ninety four years, smelling of garlic and ginger that he once used to sell, from house to house. He doesn't do that anymore. He is totally into healing ailments by prayers in Dakkani. Earlier, he used to devote only a part of his time to the healing.It was in the evenings. After a day of selling the condiments.
At twilight, as the cry of muezzin emerged from the minaret, people would throng the small room opening into the road. The room was filled with bags of ginger, leaving little space for the crowd. They overflowed onto the road. They looked anxious like the visitors outside a house, where the dead body lay. He would sit down in the inner most corner facing Mecca. The walls of the room are red from the dust that wrapped ginger. They had to be frequently white-washed. This was sponsored, once a year, as a thanks giving gesture, by one of the healed. They didn't stay white for long. Ginger was loaded and unloaded, and the dust rose painting the walls red again. Matching the ambiance, at times, he used to dye his long white beard in crimson, making it look like a comet's tail.
The word spread quickly. People from distant areas would arrive to seek his healing. Many poor among them, who couldn't afford the clinic in the adjoining road, would wait for hours for a healing spell. He was reasonable, charging only a rupee or two based on the potency. Each healing brought in five other patients. Soon people started thronging the small room with wait times up to two hours.They started seeking spells for a whole lot of goings on in their lives. He would patiently reject most of them, except a few which didn't concern ending a life.He was a harmless experimenter.
As the number of patients grew, he retired from the selling of condiments to a full time healing with a break in the afternoon for siesta.He was seventy five then.He passed off the condiment business to his four sons who all these years were trained under him. They expanded it farther. Soon, patients from all these places thronged the small room, as if the smell of the ginger carried in itself a binding spell.
Years passed by and with them he became more and more sedentary. He could not walk back home for his lunch. One of his grandsons used to carry his lunch everyday and wait till he finished. The four sons by the night would come in a small auto and take their father home.This carried on for more than a decade, when his vision started blurring despite the thick glasses he wore.And one day he became blind. The word spread farther about this blind healer and the crowd increased in number.He still wanted to heal, as many patients, before his day comes. Only now, he groped for the patients in the dark corner of the small room.
That day, at the call for evening prayer people thronged as usual around the small room. He groped a bit for the first patient and uttered an ancient spell. A moment later he couldn't utter a word and move his legs and he slanted to the wall like a bag of ginger. Not to be lifted by one alone. Outside people stared anxiously with eyes flashing like lost sails.
At twilight, as the cry of muezzin emerged from the minaret, people would throng the small room opening into the road. The room was filled with bags of ginger, leaving little space for the crowd. They overflowed onto the road. They looked anxious like the visitors outside a house, where the dead body lay. He would sit down in the inner most corner facing Mecca. The walls of the room are red from the dust that wrapped ginger. They had to be frequently white-washed. This was sponsored, once a year, as a thanks giving gesture, by one of the healed. They didn't stay white for long. Ginger was loaded and unloaded, and the dust rose painting the walls red again. Matching the ambiance, at times, he used to dye his long white beard in crimson, making it look like a comet's tail.
The word spread quickly. People from distant areas would arrive to seek his healing. Many poor among them, who couldn't afford the clinic in the adjoining road, would wait for hours for a healing spell. He was reasonable, charging only a rupee or two based on the potency. Each healing brought in five other patients. Soon people started thronging the small room with wait times up to two hours.They started seeking spells for a whole lot of goings on in their lives. He would patiently reject most of them, except a few which didn't concern ending a life.He was a harmless experimenter.
As the number of patients grew, he retired from the selling of condiments to a full time healing with a break in the afternoon for siesta.He was seventy five then.He passed off the condiment business to his four sons who all these years were trained under him. They expanded it farther. Soon, patients from all these places thronged the small room, as if the smell of the ginger carried in itself a binding spell.
Years passed by and with them he became more and more sedentary. He could not walk back home for his lunch. One of his grandsons used to carry his lunch everyday and wait till he finished. The four sons by the night would come in a small auto and take their father home.This carried on for more than a decade, when his vision started blurring despite the thick glasses he wore.And one day he became blind. The word spread farther about this blind healer and the crowd increased in number.He still wanted to heal, as many patients, before his day comes. Only now, he groped for the patients in the dark corner of the small room.
That day, at the call for evening prayer people thronged as usual around the small room. He groped a bit for the first patient and uttered an ancient spell. A moment later he couldn't utter a word and move his legs and he slanted to the wall like a bag of ginger. Not to be lifted by one alone. Outside people stared anxiously with eyes flashing like lost sails.
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