Such examples are abundant in our daily life also. For example, the teacher who lowers the standard of question paper for the lowest rung of student to pass is guilty of this act too!  Recently, I came across an interesting explanation of working for the interest of larger group. The proponent quoted Asimov’s Zeroth Law of Robotics.  Now there was a phase in my life when the world was divided in two distinct halves – people who read Asimov and people who did not! People who read Asimov had the capacity for creative and lateral thinking whereas people who did not were plain wimps. For the uninitiated     (and I no longer consider non Asimov readers to be wimps) the Zeroth Law was laid down after a particular robot faces the million dollar dilemma – whether to obey the extant law and prevent harm to an individual or to use his positronic brains innovatively and prevent harm to humanity by sacrificing the individual. The Zeroth Law empowers the robot to act for the greater good of humanity. So, the proponent said, if Asimov could propagate the Zeroth law, there obviously is nothing wrong in acting for the greater good of humanity at the expense of a few individuals. I have only one observation – the last time an individual seriously sacrificed himself at the altar of greater good, it was 2010 years ago. And frankly speaking it wasn’t a bad deal – a few days of torture and crucification in exchange for immortality!

Me – I believe in good old fashioned capitalist value sans hypocrisy and the need to hide behind wimpy excuses. If we all work for our individual good, we – by and large- work for collective good also. And I am not eager to donate my hard work and intelligence for the sake of the undeserving indolent.

 Like any 46 year old father, I used to frown upon my teenage brats watching MTV Roadies. This was until the jungle bug hit me – yes, I am referring to the latest show on Sony – Is Jungle Se Mujhe Bachao. I was aware of the fact that it’s a straight lift off from a Star TV English show. But I tune in regularly at 10 PM since I am partial to Fiza, one of the contestants. At 46, wives develope a passive acceptance for their husbands’ proclivity to ogle, so she also joins in and it became a sort of family watching time.

 Having made my confession, I would like to comment on the positives of the show and these are probably valid for other reality shows as well. The plus point of the show is that it telecasts all the manipulations, alliance forming, backstabbing and bitching amongst the participants in its naked glory. And the harsh fact is that these manipulations for advantage and power are a part of everyone’s real life. By exposing my brats to the same in reel life where one can watch the cause – effect relationship in the relative comfort of the drawing room, I am confident that I am accelerating their growth in life. Understanding the ways of their world will help them succeed in their adult life. I am not debating on morality here. The bitter fact is that the Machiavellian machinations do exist in real life and if the child gets vicarious lessons about it, it’s beneficial for him/her. I did not make the world or the society we live in neither do I have any control over its unwritten rules. And if a Reality show helps my children learn these rules earlier on and in comparative safety of the drawing room, I guess it’s welcome.

There was a huge article in TOI wondering why India is ‘tom-tomming’ the launch of a nuclear submarine which will become fully operational only by 2011. My retort is – why not? As an Indian, I am justifiably proud of my country developing and mastering a sophisticated technology available with a select few nations. Secondly, International relations are a bit peculiar. The fact that India had been building a nuclear submarine was known to most nations years before the formal launch of INS Arihant. With the launch, the calculation matrix of our potential adversaries has got a trifle more complicated. India has indicated that the submarine will be operational by 2011. But, if circumstances demand, can India do it earlier? How does an adversary counter the deployment of India’s nuclear submarine? Perhaps 2011 is too optimistic and the sub may not be operational by then. However, can a potential adversary take a chance? Thirdly, naval ships and submarines have traditionally showcased the might and technological advances of a nation. India’s global standing has increased dramatically with the launch of INS Arihant. Lastly, apart from the launch of indigenous submarine, the leasing of Russian Akula II nuclear submarine is also proceeding at a fairly rapid pace.

In short, India has arrived or on the verge of arriving as a major global power and tom tomming is definitely called for! Critics may point out to the skeletons tumbling out of defense closet – wrong acquisitions, human rights violations, charges of corruption etc. These are by no means condonable. But these critics could do well by studying the history of US military to understand the fact that on a broader canvas, a military power gradually fumbles its way to the position of global eminence. No military can learn all its lessons overnight – and we have every reason to be proud of our military achievements.

Today’s newscast was especially depressing. A sting operation on the junior telecom minister which confirmed what the whole of India already knows – that corruption exists in high places. Then we had Buta Singh’s son caught in a bribery case.  Another sting operation at Sourav’s – a restaurant owned by Sourav Ganguly where bargirls were caught on camera, dancing to entice customers. And finally, we had Imraan Hashmi of serial kissing fame going public with a fact which again is well known – muslims are discouraged from owning a house in most societies.

Enough reasons to feel depressed I guess…. But wait – there was something even more depressing- the brazen denial of the facts by the very people caught red handed. The Telecom minister said that he did not know Ms Gayatri, the Jt secretary of his party. Buta Singh cried ‘Political conspiracy’ over his son getting caught. A very relaxed and confident Ganguly was seen talking to the press and asking them to wait till the police inquiry was over. All powerful men, smug in their belief that their power will shield them from any repercussions. I sometimes feel that India is still a feudal state where the whims and fancies of the Rajahs run amok. Only the Rajahs have been replaced by someone equally powerful and maybe more sinister!

Finally about Imraan Hashmi – poor fellow was clobbered by Shahnawaz Hussain for being a serial kisser and therefore not a muslim, by Shatrughan Sinha who accused him of publicity stunt and by the secretary of the Housing Society who accused him of being too much of a celebrity. Excommunicated by a fellow muslim as being a non muslim and denied a house because of being a muslim!! It’s a situation Joseph Heller would be proud to write about!

Isn’t there something called the Truth anymore? Can camera footage of guilt be so easily swept under the carpet? And these are 4 high profile instances – there must be millions of such cases of corruption, abuse of power, racial/religious/ethnic discrimination happening in our country everyday.

ye daaG daaG ujaalaa, ye shab_gaziidaa sahar
wo intazaar thaa jis kaa, ye wo sahar to nahii.n

These lines by Faiz seem to sum up the despondency………

But there is a silver lining, a ray of hope, the emergence of the proverbial hero to cleanse the system. It’s not an individual but an institution – the Media. Today, the media is fast becoming the lathi of the common Indian, an institution which, despite or because of its narrow interest in TRP, speaks the language of the people. I feel that in case my country is to improve, the media has a challenging role to play in the process.

As a human being, I hold multiple identities simultaneously. I am a retired naval officer, an out of work executive, a henpecked husband and a doting father. I am from X course of NDA, Y Squadron and belong to Nagpur etc etc. I can think of numerous affiliations to derive my specific identity BUT all my roles and identities are subservient to a core, basic, irrefutable one – I am an INDIAN – foremost and always. And it pains me to see fellow countrymen squabble over and parade their narrower identities for personal or political interests.

Prof Sabherwal was murdered in Sep 06 in the city of Ujjain. The country was shocked into witnessing the sordid crime live on their TV sets home. After a lot of hue and cry, the assailants were arrested and charged with murder. Today, they walk free after the Nagpur High Court acquitted them for want of proper evidence and poor case preparation by the prosecution.

As an Indian and a rational human being, killing is an anathema to me. Killing of a professor over narrow political causes is thus even more distasteful, dastardly and blasphemous act. On a national TV debate regarding the issue, we had a strident defender of the accused stating that the Professor was not killed but died of natural causes, spewing venom and espousing her parochial view of politics. Despite the prophecy of kalyug , I still regard teaching as a noble profession and a Guru as a demigod. The fact that this defender of the killers was a woman Professor shows the abysmal state of our quest for narrow personal and political gains. And we have the Chief Minister of the state where this heinous crime was committed lauding the release of the accused in media!

The Professor’s case for some reason has not sparked the furore and debate akin to say Jessica Lal. Neither has the media taken up the case with the same fervour. Is it because because espousing this cause will not increase the TRP anymore? Perhaps the Jessica Lal case was about privileged vs the non privileged whereas this case is against the workers of the ruling party in the state! Are we to assume that the “Indian- ness” of the people of the state is subservient to their narrow political views?

Whatever may be the case, it seems that no one killed Prof Sabherwal after all. Or is it that each one of us is guilty of his murder by accepting a system which condones it?

During the last few days we have been treated to the spectacle of Mr. Varun Gandhi’s speech in his constituency and his clarifications thereon, ad nauseam.

As a cynical and passive observer of the Indian political scene, I feel amazed at the flagrant doublespeak of Varun and BJP. If the errant scion of Gandhi family did not deliver the ‘alleged’ speech, why couldn’t he set the records straight in unequivocal terms stating that those are not his convictions? Instead, he chose to clarify parts of that rabble rousing speech which were particularly offensive whilst retaining the core essence of Hindutva ( I am a proud Hindu etc). His clarifications were a juvenile and amateurish attempt at refuting the legal charges for Election Commission’s consumption, placating the media and people at the national level to appear moderate whilst retaining the Hindutva essence of his speech for the grass root workers in his constituency.

Varun Gandhi is just following the classic ruse adopted by BJP as a political entity. At the national level, the party projects a moderate face whilst at the grassroots level; it still promotes divisive communal politics for garnering votes. Isn’t it interesting to see that the only BJP leaders of national stature who have condemned the speech happen to be of Muslim origin! And I daresay they did it not because they are decent people but because they are worried about their vote bank. Others including Advani have conveniently kept quiet or sidestepped the issue. Isn’t it time our political leadership dealt with real issues like economy, growth, terrorism, infrastructure etc rather than play footsie with vote banks?

Lest anyone brand me as a blogger of left/centre/ right leanings, let me assure you that I have no love lost for the genre of politicians – be it of any hue and colour. I am a firm believer of the fact that the country has been badly let down by our political masters right since we gained independence. And if the political leadership has let the country down, a major portion of the blame lies with the middle class and the intelligentsia – THAT IS YOU AND ME for not participating actively in the process of democracy. We have deluded ourselves to think that we are too busy or the process is below our stature to get involved in!

Recession is biting! And amidst home budget belt tightening, the mistress of the house decreed that my extravagant book buying budget is to be slashed to zero with immediate effect! Funny thing this globalization – some wise guy in Lehman Brothers attempts to subvert the system in America and poor me is deprived of books to read…. Being a wise and domesticated husband, I did not dare ask my wife if her exorbitant cosmetic budget had been pruned.

Reading is an addiction. Deprived of my daily fix of mental stimulation, I reached out in desperation to the children’s stack of books. And, in the process, stumbled upon a trilogy by Jonathan Stroud about this genie and his young master. The books are ‘The Amulet of Samarkand’, ‘The Golem’s Eye’ and ‘Ptolemy’s Gate’.

I have happily avoided reading all of JK Rowling, smug in the self –belief that children’s book are juvenile. My idea of kid’s book stemmed from the Enid Blyton’s I had read eons ago. ‘The Amulet of Samarkand’ was a pleasant surprise. To begin with, the language used by Jonathan is crisp, elegant and lucid. The second part I liked is the sheer simplicity of the plot – good isgood and bad is bad. No moral dilemma to judge, no grey areas to navigate gingerly about. The best part about the book is that it seamlessly blends the myths and fairy tales of yore with the contemporary world. The hero is a minister in UK government. This modern setting does not make you feel that you are reading the typical archaic children’s book of hero–slays-the-fire-eating–dragon type.

The most amazing character of the series is Bartimaeus, the genie. The story about djinns and how to control them is a central part of oriental folklores. As a child, I remember being told all about drawing a circle in a graveyard and staying within it for 40 days and night to be able to exercise power over djinn. In Jonathan Stroud books, our young magician hero has control over thousand year old djinn called Bartimaeus. The genie’s character is sketched out very nicely – naughty, with a great sense of humour, wicked and a tad sentimental. Aladdin’s djinn is servile whereas Bartimaeus has a mind of his own. His ranting and raving, his humour and benign wickedness are amazingly original. The book is narrated in first person in parts – some bits by the genie and some by the hero. This helps the reader in identifying with the character very well.  I can very well imagine Eddie Murphy as the quasi cartoon character of Bartimaeus in a Hollywood movie. After a series of sinister plots, our young magician hero emerges victorious with the formidable help of his genie friend.

There can be sober parallels drawn between these stories and the real world but I deliberately desisted from this intellectual exercise. The books are meant to be enjoyable reading by children and I wanted to enjoy them at that level. After a series of rather drab, brilliant books by award winning authors which leave you drained at the end, this one keeps you riveted by its action, simplicity and comedy. In the end, it leaves a warm, fuzzy glow and the positive feeling that heroism and romance is not dead. A must read for all adults who have got accustomed to a cynical, descriptive, blurred morals diet. These books are fun with no pretensions about dealing with a broad socio- historical canvas or depicting depressing reality. And no – I am NOT regressing with age!        

Literature is a barometer of the degree of advancement of a civilisation. At its nascent stage, a civilisation or empire is Spartan, struggling to survive and extend its boundaries and influence. Economic prosperity follows this period of expansion. Free of the need to survive and fight for its existence, it turns to encouraging and patronising literature, arts and culture. The Sistine Chapel would not have been possible without the patronage of a cash rich Vatican, Shakespeare may not have written if the multitudes thronging Globe Theatre were missing.

Coming to the present day, it is but obvious that most writers require financial patronage not only to get the bread on the table but also to have their writings published, propagated and disseminated to their audience. The trigger for writing may be a deep seated angst in the author to express himself but he still needs the patronage of the critics and the adulation of the multitudes to spur him on! As my daughter so succinctly put it – even God needs devotees to worship him. Without the devotees, God is just a figurine on a cross or a grand marble statue in an equally grand temple.

The moot question is – who judges a book and deems the author to be worthy of adulation? In pragmatic terms, the common masses judge and deem a book good by buying a copy. This brings us to a more elitist question – who ensures that the taste ofthe hoi polloi is good and their money is spent in promoting a good author? An obvious dichotomy exists here – for if the critics are to decide the vexed issue of judging and promoting good literature, what happens to the individual free will and choice? And if free will and popular concept is the final arbitrator of good writing, mankind may be saddled with kitsch imitating as literature! 

Fortunately, I don’t seem to have this dilemma in my personal reading habits. I read esoteric stories recommended by critics and borrow vampire romances from my daughter also.  What I am able to appreciate as an individual is good, what I don’t like is bad – sort of MY WILL, I WILL. And I don’t force my version down anyone’s throat. Am I wrong?

Adiga and Ghosh would require a separate blog entry for comparison since both the books deserve a detailed dissection. At this point I would like to record my opinion by saying that I was amazed at the fact that the 2008 Booker went to Adiga.

Coming back to the central issue of this particular blog, there exists a certain degree of supercilious intellectual snobbery when it comes to Indian authors and theme – maybe a hangover from our colonial past. Why is it that a book which depicts Indian doom and gloom scores higher on the literary scale than one which depicts Indian boom and bloom? As a case in point, I am taking the liberty of comparing The White Tiger with Zoya Factor. I can already hear the cries of ‘Sacrilege’, ‘Ignoramus’ and whatever else that the intellectuals name lesser mortals.  I plead guilty to being an average reader and take special pleasure at being a non intellectual. I enjoy what I enjoy without heeding to the qualifications and labels. My moods decide what I read and like – my reading habits are not bound within the narrow confines of what the critics deem good.

But seriously – read the two books. Except for the rather brilliant stroke of using the Chinese premier as an anchor, I found the White Tiger absolutely ordinary. A typical run of the mill storyline, no creativity, the story telling is ordinary and the research definitely poor. The last factor can be vouched for by any ordinary Indian living in this country – there are enough fallacies especially about rural life in UP and Bihar. Perhaps the book appears charming and creative if you are wearing the blinkers of intellectualism with pretensions of being an Indian whilst staying abroad as a NRI.  Or it may appeal to the Gora Sahib who can smile indulgently at his brown protégé for having learnt the language, ways and views of the Sahibs!   My whole being cried out aloud that this depiction is not of the 21st century India – my India is alive and finally awakening to its tryst with destiny. I don’t need to parade the last vestiges of gloom in front of my ex foreign masters or others for critical fame. I must admit to the cowardice of pushing myself to finish reading the White Tiger since it was a Booker award winner. I did not want to squirm and appear illiterate in the company of my more intellectual friends who look down with disdain upon lesser mortals who can’t finish  repugnant Booker winners.

But I definitely enjoyed reading the Zoya Factor. The author, Anuja Chauhan, is from the ad world and as the write up professes, this is her first foray into writing anything longer than a 60 second commercial. She writes about a resurgent and contemporary India, about India winning the World Cup in cricket and not about India of the Dark Ages!  Admittedly the storyline is weak, perhaps bordering on comical, but there is zest, energy and contemporariness to the whole book. Reading it is like stepping out in the fresh air and light after the claustrophobic confines of Adiga’s India.  The language – especially in the first half – is amazingly humorous. Anuja probably has chosen her immediate environment and associates as the background for the novel and she has sketched the background and its characters beautifully. There is creativity, there is comedy, there is a certain contemporary Indianess to the writing and there are no pretensions at taking a shot at Booker. In fact given a good scriptwriter who can translate Anuja’s hilarious Hinglish into Hindi, we have a sure shot Bollywood winner here. Do I see noses wrinkling in distaste over the inane plot and comic Hinglish one liners amongst those who have read this book?  

This is the intellectual snobbery I am talking about. Describing the roadside open sewage in graphic details spread over three pages of text is intellectual but making the reader laugh and enjoy contemporary creativity is trivial. And that is precisely why I am writing about two books which are at the opposite end of the spectrum – The Booker award winning White Tiger and Anuja Chauhan’s first foray in writing – Zoya Factor. I admit that the comparison itself is unfair but the moot point is – I enjoyed reading about Zoya !!

I was introduced to Richard Bach through Jonathan Livingstone Seagull gifted by my father on the day I graduated from the National Defence Academy. The book helped ease my guilt on my non-conformal, iconoclastic and at times rebellious behaviour in the hallowed precincts of the premium defence establishment and probably set the tenor for the rest of my life.

I stayed with Richard Bach as I grew up – paid heed to the Messiah, was introduced to Leslie Parish and even wrote letters for the child-me like Richard in Running from Safety. However, the most important fallout of Richard’s dialectics was my quest for a soul mate – the single, all embracing, all compatible woman on earth with whom I would be sharing the rest of my life. And I was lucky – our love blossomed in letters espousing and exploring the postulations of Bach. Oh it was romantic! We agreed to marriage based on those letters before we actually met each other. It was - we believed – the conjugation of mind and soul with the benign figure of a smiling Richard Bach in the background.

We settled to a beautiful married life – shared our work, thoughts and philosophy; kind of grew up together. But as we grew, I startedgetting these wee little doubts – is this all? I mean, mankind has survived and evolved by its inbuilt desire to push the envelope, resist the status quo and desire more.  Is there only one soul mate? How are soul mates decided? Who decides? How come soul mates are from opposite gender only? At this phase of my life, the real-life Richard separated from Leslie Parish and kind of destroyed the Illusion ………

Our growth –  my soul mate’s and mine –  was not limited to starry eyed romance. We postulated theories on almost everything – and wondered at the obvious inequality and unfairness of the world. Our  earlier attempts at answering the questions of inequality was rooted in a rational world – people are privileged because they have worked harder and are more gifted. Any sane person can tell that this was absolutely humbug – how could two equally gifted and equally hardworking people get the same breaks in life if one was born a poor villager and the other the son of a rich industrialist?

Born and bred in the Orient, the belief in reincarnation and indestructibility of the soul has always been a half serious part of life.  The more we thought, the more this rather irrational philosophy appealed to our intellect. If one were to accept the irrational belief that the soul is indestructible, that it chooses to be reincarnated for a specific purpose – the whole world starts to appear rational and everything can be explained.

Brian Weiss came into my life during a long sailing to Korea. I remember getting goose pimples reading him. It was almost eerie that someone across the globe was experimenting and collecting rational proof on the hypothesis of indestructibility of souls and reincarnation. Weiss reinforced our beliefs but threw up a host of questions on the earlier premise of a single, compatible, opposite gender soul mate! Not that I had come to love my wife any less but there had been a series of friendships post marriage  with various people wherein I felt that special bond which defied logic. With this newfound reinforcement to my philosophy, I could surmise that these people were probably traveling with me through the eons in different forms, different relationship.

And then I went for a short training course where I met her. The bonding, the chemistry, the friendship was so strong that I was forced to admit that she was also a soul mate. Two soul mates ? Hello – isn’t that concept flawed? But my feelings defied conventional wisdom – she was definitely a soul mate.

I had been a fan of Paulo Coelho for a long long time. And Brida came along just at the time when I was grappling with this inner turmoil.  The question which lingers in my mind is – am I using these authors and their works to justify my deeds and feelings or to understand my deeds and feelings?