Just simple........

Hello Again!

2011-05-08T22:23:00.004+05:30

I hope you remember me. I am the one who told you that world is a strange place. I am seven months old now and I still maintain it.

The first thing that disturbs me is that no one understands even simple things here. When I tell them that I am hungry, my mom tries to make me sleep; when I yell to change a toy, my father checks my diapers and when I scream to get the television channel changed my parents turn it off. The people here are too dumb to learn my language and I even do not see any effort on their part. I have decided that I will have to pick up theirs.

Dear lord had also told me that when I go into this world, my parents would always be at my beck and call. They were supposed to cater me all the time and they did that for few initial months but now their sincerity is gone. Whenever I am sleeping or am busy with a toy, they try to give me a slip. Since they understand nothing but my wails, I have to resort to it to call them back.

I should also tell you that people here are too scared to try new tastes. My parents give me only milk, banana and few other things. Even when I ask, they refuse to offer their palm, mobile and beautiful shining poly bags. With their little assistance I could have explored zillion other tastes but still I have managed to taste bed sheets, books and some other things I would not like to name. Someone please tell these grownups that their life is so tasteless.

Also no one here cares about the environment. Even I know that plastics are bad for this world but they keep me surrounded by it. I have one on which they make my bed, another one for my pram and a large third which is below the entire bed sheet. I tried to reason with them that I do not like its sound; neither its taste but then they handed me a rattle instead. God save me from these morons!

I should also tell you that in this strange world, I have found a real friend. He has been with me from the time I was born. He was present in the hospital when I came, he was in my Grandmother’s place and now when I have come to my new home in Kolkata, he is here too. He quietly lives on the roof and listens to everything that I have to say. In the beginning we could not connect but as summer approached, on seeing me his three wings have started rotating with joy.

You remember last time we met; my parents had not given me a name. I feared that as lazy they were, they could have numbered me instead. Once I even overheard my father formulating hypotheses that since all good names were exhausted, people were soon going to number their kids. He wanted to reserve number ‘One’ for me as no one had taken it but the idea did not appeal my mom.

After intense efforts they finally managed to name me Aariv, meaning the king of wisdom.

Since you are my friend, I will share with you a secret. From the time I came into this world, I have been checking out people. Everybody was good but a beautiful lady stood completely out. She took great care of me and remained with me all the time. She has partially managed to understand what I say and now I want her to be with me all the time. As she might feel jealous, I have stopped going out with other people when she is around. I think I have fallen in love with her.

Oh yes, I forgot to wish her, Happy Mother’s day mom.

Hello

2011-02-08T15:22:00.011+05:30

The world is a strange place. It has been four months since I came here and I can tell you with confidence, this world is nuts!

The day I came into this world, my family decided to convene their long due gathering. The entire family tree including its offshoot branches and long drawn acquaintances chose hospital as their venue. They celebrated by eating some round stuff packed in colorful boxes and even gave it to the nurses and ward boys but no one bothered to offer me one. What they could offer me was oversize clothes, some of which I have not been able to wear till date.

It was my first day in the world but they behaved as they were seeing a small kid for the first time. Their interest in me was more than a five year old's in a Giraffe at the zoo. They made funny faces and funnier noises and many times when my mother was not on guard, they even pinched my cheeks. Grow up guys!

To tell you about my mother, she is a good lady. Well almost!

She treats me well but I hate her when she puts those oily creams and lotions on me. I know she is impressed with that baby in Johnson and Johnson’s advertisement but Hello, trying all their stuff on me will not make me him!

I normally trust her but she has tricked me into drinking those tasteless liquids that doctor prescribed. Of course I am wiser now and have perfected the art of blowing it on her face.

My father believes in Nehruvian foreign policy of peaceful co existence and non interference in one’s affairs. I feel he is scared to show this to my mom so he daily plays with me for an hour. I think I do not mind it.

It is true that my parents spend time entertaining me but most of their effort is directed to make me asleep. They try their horrible lullabies on me in their croaking voices and I have no option but to fall asleep. Also is there any respect in this world for the sleep of four month old. It is understandable that they do not turn off the lights but watching TV aloud while I am trying to sleep is beyond comprehensible manners.

I should also say that it is difficult to live in this world under this intense attention. Whenever I try something new or utter any novel sound, my parents present themselves with a camera. I think I am too small to be in the Bigg Boss house and it really puts me off. Till now I have never allowed them capture my best shot.

They also try to make me piss while sounding that silly sssss….. It is awkward to hang in that strange position with air chilling your interiors. I have to yield to get over that embarrassing position, but do I have some human rights. Mom, Dad, I am fully entitled to wet my pants.

There are multiple other ways to irritate me and one is that whenever I am in a mood to laugh or talk, my mother dials my grandparents. It turns chaotic with so many people talking so I withdraw from that chat show. Mom can’t we have any serious talk without involving anybody else.

The pressure to perform in this world is unnerving and these people do not even spare a four month old!

Otherwise my parents are somewhat ok and I have no grudge against them but they have not named me yet. Isn’t it preposterous that a four month old does not have a name; worse not even a nick name? I have noted it down and will take account of it in future.

For the present, I make maximum of opportunity available at night by keeping them awake.

Unseen, Unheard, Unknown

2010-07-26T00:15:00.017+05:30

An arrow periodically blinked on the screen and flashed “He is SDO soandso, Mr. AS." The clipping showed only three shots; the nameplate of my house, my camp office and then me appearing on the screen, moving towards the camera and a camera lying on the floor.

Here I was on TV, the new-found villain of a news channel; and the Breaking story ran “Shameless Administration: SDO breaks the camera of press." An entire one hour program was dedicated to this and various intellectuals, politicians showered several imaginative phrases on me.

I do not know from where to tell the 'story.' This was my first encounter with yellow journalism; and truth being told, I was quite disturbed when it happened. But then, though on a smaller platform, I thought I too had the right to tell my side of story.

Soandso sub-division comprises of many tea gardens and living conditions there are far from satisfactory. There have been reports of Starvation deaths in some Tea Gardens, and after that government started many welfare projects there.

The recent story began when an overzealous news channel discovered that two people had died out of starvation in a particular Tea Garden. It came as a shock for us as such incidents; if any; were probable in only in closed tea gardens.

An inquiry was conducted and it appeared that news report was completely baseless. Both the persons were suffering from long term physical ailments, were financially sound and had died a natural death. While we were about to make this inquiry public, the Block Development Officer (BDO) went on two days leave.

The same news channel immediately ran the story "Impact of our reporting on Starvation deaths: BDO sent on compulsory leave by the government." My BDO got demoralized and I was furious. How could a news channel carry such a story without verification?

I talked to the channel concerned and their standard reply was that they got this news from a ‘confidential source’. After trying to show reason for some time, I realized its futility and refused to have any further communication with them. The person on the other side insisted on taking a bite from me as they believed in ‘balanced’ reporting but I politely refused.

Next day was holiday and early in the morning, two press reporters came to my house. I asked my staff to inform them that I was not interested in talking but they refused to leave without taking my bite. I got irritated and came out to ask them to leave. They had already recorded my house and without either introducing or taking my permission, they started recording me too. I asked them to stop immediately.

They refused blatantly and then it happened. I raised my hand to turn off the camera and in the commotion, some part of it got disconnected. After that they started screaming that I had broken their camera. Their bosses in the headquarter directed them to leave immediately and the 'breaking news' started. In a moment, I was turned into a camera breaking high handed monster who was enemy of press and hence that of mankind. A shot of camera lying on the ground was added to the clipping later on to further spice up the story.

The aftermath of this episode was not completely negative. All other channels/newspapers decided to support me and nobody else ran this story. Both my seniors and juniors in administration unequivocally told me that my credentials were known to all those who mattered. Numerous local people called me to say that they shall be with me come what may. Even people from press were sorry that I was being demonized by a particular news channel.

Every time I received such a phone call, there was a lump in my throat. Before this incident, I never knew people loved me so much and I was overwhelmed. My resolve to work for people became even more firm.

When I look back, I do not know how I should have reacted. How do you react to people who enter your house without your permission, refuse to leave and forcibly try to video graph you? Whatever be it, I regret things went as they did. A strange melancholic feeling persists in my heart.

I am still trying to understand how free, the free press should be!

Life is Beautiful

2010-04-17T12:23:00.017+05:30

Suddenly there was a loud noise and then everything was calm. It must have been fraction of a second but I still remember everything; as if my mind had taken a snapshot of that moment. Front seat of my vehicle had tilted backwards and my legs were trapped. The glass on the back side was shattered and there was dust all around.

So there I was going to a block on a routine inspection. Newly built highway was inviting and soon our vehicle crossed the speed of the three digit mark. I was enjoying the scenery of Buxa Tiger Reserve talking to S who had come on training in my subdivision and it was just any other day; but then it turned out it was not.

From the last few days there were numerous articles in the newspapers showing violations of traffic norms in my area. Particularly irritating were buses having scores of passengers sitting on its top. Ideally these checks are conducted by police and Motor Vehicle departments but at times enthusiastic SDO’s also do these.

At a distance, we saw a bus coming towards us and it had persons sitting on its top. In a strange fit of enthusiasm I asked my driver to signal it to stop. The bus did not pay heed and crossed past us. That was when it all began.

I asked my driver to stop and was telling him to note down its number and suddenly there was a big jerk along with a deafening noise. My driver had stopped; but what he probably missed was that behind us there was another vehicle speeding on the highway; and it was not able to replicate our action.

There was dust all around and we were trying to reconcile with what had happened. Luckily none of us was hurt barring a few minor bruises. Scorpio is a sturdy vehicle and it had absorbed all the shock. S still maintains that we must have been cursed by the vehicles on which I had imposed fines.

Whenever I look back, I cannot resist thinking why that happened. I should not have tried to stop that vehicle on highway, my driver should not have stopped on road, and the vehicle coming behind us should have maintained a distance. Anyway, that is not worth dwelling upon.

As I stood there trying to figure out our injuries, the first thoughts that crossed my mind were of my wife and family. Never in that half an hour did I think of the unfinished work lying on my table. So, though, many times we get lost in our work, we should never forget for whom we are working for.

I also felt the transient nature of our existence. Life can go in flash of a second and we may not even know. I felt a strange pain for that Scorpio. It was a beautiful new vehicle and after that incident, its beauty was suddenly gone. We thanked God that we did not meet a similar fate.

Standing on that road, waiting for some other vehicle to pick us up, I also realized that being alive is a wonderful feeling. I feel bliss when I breathe the fresh air, when I see the green bushes of Tea Gardens and the colorful mountain stretches beyond them in Bhutan. I also I feel bliss when I write this, when I wait for your comments on my blog, and when my wife teases that I am just another ordinary writer.

Life is Beautiful. Indeed!

Better Left Unsaid

2010-04-11T19:27:00.008+05:30

Strange are the ways of Love.

The first thing she noticed was that he did not brush his teeth. He was somewhat fat, somewhat lazy and enigmatically interesting. She had known him for three months; and she hadn’t in real sense. They were put together in a group of ten that went together on ‘Bharat Darshan’ and that was when their journey began.

Bharat Darshan is a two months tour in which bureaucrats are sent to discover India. At the end of the journey, discoveries are not confined only to ‘India’. It is an experience in itself and two months of continuous journey bring out the best and worst in all. Ten people who are randomly put in that group often end up as best of friends; and in some other cases avoid each other for lifetime.

So their journey started along with that group. There was something that pulled them together. Both of them lacked enthusiasm that new tourists have, both of them had a flair for cards and both of them were loners. One thing led to another and soon they realized that there is something that binds them together.

Nothing in this world is more beautiful than falling in love and you cannot appreciate this as long as you experience it. They carved a world out of themselves and they talked about anything and everything. When you fall in love you realize that there is so much you have to talk about. There is nothing that is stupid; there is nothing out of bounds.

They were away from their friends and families, away from their ‘roles’ and there was nothing else that mattered. But then, all good things come to an end!

Many relations are best left undefined and same was true probably for this case. The problem started when they tried to name their relationship. It was the last day of their journey and boy proposed the girl.

She denied that she was in love with him; she also denied she was ever in. In fact her marriage was settled and she had known that boy from last five years. It was going to be a love cum arranged marriage and she was prepared for it. Her eyes were dry and plain and this was not the girl he had known.

It is difficult to understand women but the men never mind trying. He tried to argue, he tried to convince but somehow she had made her decision. She was not ready to take on the world and defy her social role.

From some distant corner they heard a song being played:

मेरा कुछ सामान तुम्हारे पास पड़ा है,
सावन के कुछ भीगे भीगे दिन रखे हैं
और तुम्हारे ख़त में लिपटी रात पड़ी है,
वो रात बुझा दो, मेरा वो सामान लौटा दो.

Many things were left unsaid and for the last time in their life they hugged and cried together. Bharat Darshan had come to its end and so had their relationship.

I Never Nag

2010-02-28T13:32:00.002+05:30

I never nag and I will not do it now. I only want to tell you about a journey. It was not of the kind of holidaying but some enforced journey that you undertake on the pretext of work.

So there I was, in my office attending a meeting and the people kept on repeating the same things. I told them that I have a train to catch but they still kept on repeating the same things and the meeting ended without a conclusion. Not that I wanted a conclusion as conclusions never come but because of that I had to rush to catch the train.

I know that train always comes late but I still have this habit of going there an hour before. So I reached the platform and bought coffee to kill time. It was bad coffee but that was not the reason of my disgust. I was really hurt when the shopkeeper gave things to two persons who came after me, only because their voices were louder than mine. The kind of depression that sets in after such incidents spoils my whole day, many times whole month.

I somehow swallowed that coffee and after that I had an empty paper cup in my hand. I tried to be like civilized types and looked for the dustbin. I held that cup for five minutes but after that when no one was looking and threw it on the railway tracks.

After announcing seven times that the train was on right time and would come any moment, the train came half an hour late. I tried to form a queue to enter but the old fat auntie in front of me blocked the door with her big baggage. She did not allow passengers to get down and climbed the coach with the help of her able coolies. I tried to look for the second door but the coach attendant had already kept it locked.

Somehow pushing and cursing, and seeing large posteriors of passengers trying to fix their large luggage, I managed to reach my berth. Nine people were already uncomfortably sitting there. I tried to act smart and ask their berth numbers but they just smiled and requested to adjust.

This always happens with me that whenever somebody asks me to adjust, I actually more than do. Not that I really want it because after that also I continue fighting with them for days and months in my mind; but my face maintains a stoic smile.

Then they asked me to further cooperate by giving my lower berth. See this is the issue I am bit touchy about. I like the lower seat and but every time some fat old auntie asks me to adjust.

I was quite depressed by now and I asked the attendant to give me sheet and blanket so I can sleep. The sheets were pathetic and their condition reminded me the smiling faces of railway ministers who refused to raise fare in a row. The blanket also had some twelve odd holes in it but the attendant looked at me in a way that I felt guilty of wishing for more, thereby not cooperating with minister’s effort of keeping the prices low.

The family sitting down kept on chattering till late night but to prove their courtesy they did so only after switching off the light. That day I decided like myriad similar incidents, I will never forget them and that is why I am immortalizing them in my blog.

For Necessary Action

2009-12-03T22:59:00.009+05:30

The letter was really intriguing (i.e. interesting and confusing). The writer had found a solution to the problem of climate change. He stated that he had been researching in the dense forests and had studied the impact of climate change on changing color of the frogs. He had also analyzed its effect on the decibel level of their croaking.

After listening to the data for twelve years and feeling it on a handmade supercomputer made out of completely organic ingredients, he had derived a formula to reverse the climate change. The only thing he needed now to hand it over to the government was a small appreciation letter from the Prime Minister of India and twenty one lakh cash. Since he felt that foreign secret agents were behind his life, he had refused to divulge any further details.

So there I was, sitting as usual in the first hour my office and doing my most important job, seeing the ‘Daak file’. In simple terms a Daak file is a file that keeps the Daak or the ‘correspondence’. Every day I get scores of letters which I skim/read/try to read in the first hour of office. The above mentioned letter was present in the same Daak file and I had already given it two minutes, twelve times the usual 10 seconds allotted to a usual Daak.

I get anything between 50 to 500 letters a day and two minutes to a single letter was certainly extravagance. For a moment I felt that I held the future of humanity in my hand. Pictures of huge melting glaciers with white polar bears flashed in front of my eyes and I decided to act in a conclusive manner. I tried to think hard to decide the various alternatives.

I could have forwarded that letter directly to the PMO and asked them to act upon it. I could have written to the science and technology department. I could have additionally sought funds to further research upon the matter. I could also have called a meeting of all college professors to discuss the issue. In case I wanted to deal conservatively, I could have sought advice from my district magistrate.

I also thought about making a round paper ball from that paper and throwing it into the dustbin. Alternatively I could have tested my memory by trying to make an aeroplane from that sheet of paper. I could have additionally sent a doctor to examine the mental status of the writer.

The pressure became huge and I felt exactly as Arjun would have felt in the battlefield when he said “Mind is restless Krishna”.

And then I realized the solution was simple. What had I to worry when I had the most efficient phrase invented by the bureaucracy. In fact what Sachin is to cricket, this phrase is government; only more consistent and match winning.

I marked the letter to my deputy officer and wrote ‘for necessary action’.

Capturing Life

2009-09-16T00:17:00.004+05:30

That was the first time I was wearing a suit. It was my class 12th farewell and the idea was to imitate the elderly; ladies in saris and gentlemen in suit. I carried a mustache at that time and hello……how thin I was. I was invariably smiling in all the pictures and looking at that I can tell that I was not very comfortable.

So in the fits of cleaning my house, I rediscovered a bag full of pictures; pictures that captured life, pictures that captured past. Each one of them extrapolated an event and started telling a story. The time frame was not continuous and stories started coming randomly; just with a turn of a page.

And suddenly I was a girl. I was three years old and my mother had made me wear a frock. My father was helping her and the camera captured all three of us. It was festive day as Bhagwat uncle had come to our home with his new camera. So all of us got clicked myriad times; in different poses and in different dress; and that day continues to live on as representative of that age.

I had always liked her. She looked gorgeous in her cream sari and was the first woman I had a crush upon. And there she was; looking gorgeous as ever; sitting at the center of fifty of us; Class of UKG Section B. For me she never grew old and that snap took her from this world and pasted her that picture forever; at least for me.

The picture was clicked for finding her a perfect groom. She was Bhatnagar uncle’s daughter and had entered marriageable age. She was wearing a sari and the photographer made her cheeks look extra pink. Her eyes were expressionless, and after six years when she committed suicide those eyes kept haunting me for days. We never knew why she did that but that marriageable girl with extra pink cheeks is still alive in that album.

I was sitting on a boat, and I tried to look smart. I was not smiling and neither was I serious; and I had tilted my head slightly tilted towards the left. It was our trip to Varanasi and at least a score of us had gone there. Whenever any relative came to visit us in our suburb, we dutifully took them to some of the places around and such excursions were my window to the world. I in fact jumped from that window and eventually saw the world, but the joy never matched the one of that boat ride.

And then there was a generation leap. I was not even born and my parents were getting married. My father wore bell bottom pants and my mother had a big stylish bun on her head. I wonder why people of that generation comment on our fashion sense. My father had mischievous eyes and I always found it hard to believe that even my parents could have been so young.

Sometimes I wonder if I could go back in time carrying those albums, and then tell everybody what future has in store for them. I could have told my gardener that a storm would destroy his flowers that season; I could have asked that girl to be positive towards life.

But then I realize that I am mortal and put these questions to rest.

The Second One: A Lady

2009-08-02T08:48:00.000+05:30

After that incident life continued as it was. The strange thing is I still do not know how I should have felt. I was not at all scared but something had changed. My mom always told me that human beings are survivors. Keep us in any conditions and we will come out stronger. I involved myself in the studies and started running with life.

It was the first day when we were taken to a morgue for dissecting a human body. It was cold inside and was the room was dimply lit. The wall contained small rectangular boxes with rounded handles, and each of them contained a frozen dead body.

The unnerving thing about a morgue is that you start become philosophical once you see dead; made of same flesh and bones as you are. The frozen bodies also have frozen expressions and it looks as if there was a sudden pause in life, similar to the ‘Statue’ game we played in childhood. Many of us vomit or faint there but at the end of the day you take a big knife and cut it straight across the chest.

In no place you can feel so closely what mortality of mankind means.

From first day in college, we had been hearing of stories that seniors lie there as dead and try to scare the juniors. I was ready for that but I did not anticipate what actually came for me.

All of us were being shown a dead body and we were going to start the dissection of it when I found somebody whispering my name. At the entrance of that room, there was a lady who was signaling me to come to her.

While walking towards her, I noticed that she was fat and was dressed in complete black. She was wearing a distinguishing large bindi on her forehead and had all sort of strange ornamentations, somewhat similar to those of hermits. Her appearance sent chills down my spine but it was too late to turn back.

Her voice was polite and without introducing herself she asked, “Vandana, how does one donate her body to the medical college?” I looked taken aback not only at her question but also as if asking her how she knew my name. She just smilingly gestured towards the batch that I was wearing.

I explained to her all the formalities and sent her to the relevant office. After a week we again had a session at the morgue. Last time we were told how dissection was to be done and all the external features that had to be marked before touching a dead body and today was going to be the day when we were to cut open a dead human body.

I was completely relaxed and got my instruments issued. Everything was normal and then I shrieked. On my table, staring right into my eyes with calm frozen expressions, as if trying to soothe me up, that same lady was lying……..dead. I felt as if I have forgotten how to breathe and I became dumb for a minute.

After that I shrieked and shrieked and my friends took me out of that room. Later on I found that that lady’s death was completely natural and her body had been shifted to the morgue just that morning.

I took a break and went home for some days. There while turning some family photographs, I found pictures of last days of Sharmila aunty. Under the influence of some hermit, she has started wearing black and when she was being taken for cremation she almost resembled the lady that had come to meet me in the morgue.

The First One : A Call

2009-07-24T22:55:00.010+05:30

I had receiver in my hand and I was sweating. I still remember what Sharmila auntie said “Vandana please help Vinhanshu, he is in pain”.

When I recall it now, it looks so weird. Till date I have found no explanations, and I keep on wondering why it happened to me. In fact those two incidents shook my life.

Sharmila aunty was always known to us. In fact Ghosal’s were like family to us. Sharmila aunty was mom’s best friend, uncle was Papa’s eternal golf partner and I grew up playing with their son Vibhanshu.

Still I do not think I had any special bonding with Sharmila auntie. She was good to me and always brought candies; and that was it. She continued to bring them all along, from time I was a kid till the time I entered medical college.

And then one day out of nowhere, I received her call. With no niceties exchanged, she told me she had cancer, and one at a pretty advanced stage. Her voice was sad but composed. She said she had only one month to live and I was the first person she was telling that. I could hardly speak a word. In a jumbled voice I uttered something to console her.

I do not know why but I was gripped with a strange fear. I immediately called my mom and just kept on crying. After that I never called Sharmila auntie nor did meet her but my mom confirmed her medical condition. She died exactly after a month and I could not muster courage to go to her funeral.

That was one year back, and now at 2 am at night I had just talked to her again. I sat there holding the receiver, and I could not even dare to move. After sometime I checked the telephone line and it was dead.

It was impossible to sleep after that and I sat on that sofa for a time that looked immemorial. At 6 am in the morning, I rang at her home. Their servant picked up the phone and told that Vibhanshu had met with an accident at night and everybody was at the hospital. He was in pain, but was out of danger.

At afternoon, I went to meet him and wished him fast recovery. We talked about many things and he told me that was missing his mother a lot that day. Somehow I could not muster courage to tell him that it was she who had informed me of his condition.

I was left shaken by this experience but I did not know what more was in store for me.

PS: This story was based on a true incident as narrated to me by a close friend. Its second part will be coming soon.

With You, For You; Always

2009-04-06T21:22:00.006+05:30

“This is too much. After sixty years of independence, this cannot go on.” Bilas said after endlessly waiting for the Taluka officer on third consecutive day.

Bilas was the first person who had passed higher secondary in his village. His father had the hobby of describing how he overcame all the obstacles to educate his son. And now he believed that his son would change their village.

So, he had taken Bilas to the Taluka office to apply for an agriculture loan. But it was their third consecutive day, and they still could not locate the Taluka Officer. The usual reply of the peon was, “Sir has gone for a field visit.” His father wanted to wait, as he knew that patience was the virtue needed to deal with government, but he could not tell this to his higher secondary pass son.

“We must do something. These officers take us for a ride only because we let them to. I will go to the highest level.” an angry Bilas said.

Then and there he wrote a request to the Chief Minister (CM) asking him to provide his father an immediate agriculture loan. Before posting that, his father showed it to the entire village and told them that since now they have an educated boy in their village; they can directly send all their requests to the CM.

The CM was an honest man. He wanted to help everybody, and told his secretaries to help everybody. After some days, Bilas’s letter reached the CM office and found fortune of being opened by a CM’s secretary.

And since the CM was pretty strict about helping the poor, his secretary drafted a letter to the District Magistrate of the Bilas’s district; strictly asking him to explain and send an action taken report. The DM was an honest man. He wanted to help everybody, and told his secretaries to help everybody.

So after some days, one of the secretaries of DM forwarded that letter to the Sub Divisional Magistrate (SDM) very strictly asking him to immediately explain and send an action taken report. The SDM was an honest man. He wanted to help everybody, and told his secretaries to help everybody.

This time the letter was seen himself by the SDM. He drafted a letter to the Taluka Officer very, very strictly asking him to immediately, immediately explain and send an action taken report.

The Taluka officer felt grief and pain after receiving that letter. He wanted to cry feeling that a person of his Taluka had to go to CM to ask for the loan and already a year had passed in the process. He decided to take an action at that moment itself and send an action taken report to the CM via DM via SDM.

His action taken report read, ‘Since the loan application must be addressed to the Taluka officer, a letter has been sent to Sri Bilas asking him to immediately come to the Taluka Office and submit the loan application in prescribed format.’

PS: For any confusion that may arise later, I hereby confirm that this is a work of fiction :)

Some Frequently Answered Questions

2009-04-01T22:49:00.004+05:30

What work do you do?

Right now as a part of my training, I have been posted as a Block Development Officer (BDO). And the truth is I never knew before that government worked so much.

In last two months, I have handled jobs like conducting camps for differently able people, arranging for the visit of central government team, meeting political party leaders, facing deputations (that’s a gathering of hundreds of people which comes to raise their grievance), conducting inquiries, pushing up for the NREGS works, handling the never ending election work and the list just goes on.

In short, the spectrum in which the government works is unbelievable and each day comes with a new experience.

Can Civil servants work honestly in this environment of corruption?

This question comes with a bias that majority of people in government are corrupt. I have limited experience but till now I have never found any reason to believe so.

Nobody can force anybody to be corrupt or vice versa. Just like any other big organization, I have found all the colors in my office. So giving a certificate to all government employees that they are corrupt may be fashionable, but not always correct.

Deviating from this question, I would like to give an example. I have a clerk who shall be retiring in six months. He was inducted as a clerk; he shall retire as a clerk. His salary always was and is, meager. He was never given any training; he was never given any reward. But still he is the most hardworking person of my block, backbone of one of the important departments and even in this age he works on Saturdays and Sundays without any extra remuneration.

The truth is I am still searching the source of motivation of such people. I do not understand what drives them, and I feel really bad if somebody flatly brands entire government as corrupt.

Do Politicians let you work?

This question comes with a preconceived notion that you want to work but politicians do not let you do so. The truth is in many cases may be far from it.

One must understand that politicians are representatives of people. Their understanding of ground reality is much better than that of a civil servant. They also know man management pretty well since they ‘deal’ with lots of people.

Good work in field is necessary for them for being re-elected too. So most of the time, they genuinely help civil servants to do good work. They have some limitations as they must have a ‘please all’ attitude but if a civil servant makes sense no politician can stop him from doing good work.

Why do you like civil services?

1. More often than not, I shall be the boss in my office. In other words, I get a good amount of freedom. A senior civil servant once told me that the reason why our service class parents term this as the best job is that here you get least interference of your superiors and maximum freedom to do your work. Most of the time, you are the one who is managing the show, be it big or small.

2. In course of my job I have seen almost entire India, visited the Parliament, met President and Prime minister, learned entirely new language and came to know of opportunities to work in hundreds of fields where government is present with its ever unfolding spectrum. Which other job can offer me this? I end this answer here as I have already dealt this subject before.

The Idea that drives India

2009-03-24T21:37:00.004+05:30

On 15th August 1947, a strange nation started its ‘tryst with destiny’.

There was hardly an iota of homogeneity in its nationals; they spoke myriad languages, had cultures poles apart, and consisted representation of all diverse religions. Not only that, it was left high and dry by its colonial masters.

So the entire world predicted doom, and doom’s day they said was not far away. They waited and predicted, and predicted and waited. But then nothing happened. Actually they missed that an idea was driving that nation; and that was its Democracy.

Thus this new blog is dedicated to the magic called democracy and the means to achieve it, free and fair elections. I know quite a few eyebrows must have been raised by now.

Before my readers put me down with zillion cross questions, I remind them of a quote of Churchill ‘Democracy is the worst form of government except all the others that have been tried’. And trust me, I cannot agree more.

Democracy has power to smoothen all the folds of the society; it has power to merge different colors of society and mind it, none of them lose their identity. In years of human existence, democracy faced just one strong opponent, Communism, but that too got completely crushed by the fallacy of its own weight.

Now let me come to the phrase ‘free and fair elections’. Its normal to question ‘Are we anyways near that?’ and my answer to that shall be a loud Yes. As an insider to the government machinery, I can say with full confidence that I have never seen a process as efficient as conduct of elections.

The process starts years before any election is due. Voter lists are periodically revised and re-revised. Booth level agents go door to door to confirm who has moved in and who has moved out. All political parties are asked to give their views and objections to the entire process.

When election comes near, almost all other government work comes to a standstill. The letter with mark ‘Election Urgent’ acquires topmost priority.

After each election, the Election commission gets wiser and now they are monitoring at multiple levels. There are government observers, there are agents of all political parties and then there are also some random citizen checks.

So have we become perfect? My answer is no. There are still evils to be tackled; like those of criminalization of politics, politicization of religion, use of money and muscle power etc. But if you feel the sheer magnitude of election operations, you cannot resist but call it magic.

After all, isn’t this the magic that has, and god willing shall, keep India moving.

From Darkness to Light

2008-12-15T08:31:00.001+05:30

The dust has settled now and I thought it was over with me.

But I was in a restaurant in Kolkata and there was a loud noise. My heart skipped a beat and everybody present there was looking in the direction where a balloon got burst; with fear in their eyes. Then I realized that 26/11 terrorist attack was still living with me; and living with others.

So we were hit by another terrorist incident and this one was different from others. It was marked by the audacity of terrorists, and also the television coverage that they got because of it. For almost three days, entire India was glued to television.

This incident brought terrorism so near to common man. It is difficult to relate with a person blown by a bomb in the train, but the impact is much more when we discover the count of dead after three days of anxious wait on television. It is also not pleasant to know that terrorists can attack a family dining in a restaurant, or those sleeping peacefully in an obscure building.

I think the aftermath this time should be different. I hope we are really fed up of terrorism and we will not take it any more. But a voice inside me keeps murmuring; this reaction is because elites were hurt this time. I dismiss this as a vague thought and try to figure out why blasts in north east or Naxal attacks in interiors almost go unnoticed.

I also try to figure out why workers of the hotel were helping their guests amidst the attack; or how the GM of Taj was working for the safety of guests when he had himself lost his entire family. Can this ever be lure for money or promotion… I imagine what goes in the mind of a commando unit which knows that they might be sitting on a ticking time bomb. I salute them all and envy their love for their job.

I hope that sooner or later we will find a solution for this menace, but I still do not know what it shall be. I get irritated by people who keep on repeatedly stating ‘we must something about it’. I also do not like those who feel that ‘hot head’ is the solution for everything.

Winston Churchill once said that democracy is the worst form of governance, but it is better than all other forms ever tried; and I cannot agree more. I know that we will have to and we should live with our democracy, though choosing the right representatives remain our job.

I also do not understand how attacking Pakistan is going to help us. Though we will have to pressurize Pakistan to deliver but turning into another Iraq (and this one with nukes) by destabilizing it can be more dangerous. At the same time we also have to find answer to the homegrown Sadhwi Pragyas and the likes of Indian Mujahideans.

When all this was happening, I felt a rage inside me. But in a calm mood, I feel blessed that I am in government service and work for my country. In case you are naive like me and do not know what should be done now, just work for this country.

Let us take it from darkness to light; and that can only be done with a calm mind

Of Tiger, Mistakes and a Freak

2008-11-21T19:10:00.004+05:30

Read a quote today “I have nothing to do and the complete day to do it” So out of complete ennui, a blog comes that can be titled as Of Tiger, Mistakes and a Freak.

Lest I raise your expectations and face the aftermath, I should explain the meaning now. After many days I started reading novels again and finished three in a week. The blog’s title connects all of them.

The first one that I read was ‘The White Tiger’.If this novel deserved a Booker or not might be debatable but according to me it is worth a read. The story is short and it generally does not get dull. The protagonist ‘Balram Halwai’ binds you with his dark humor.

At times it betrays that writer has seen poverty only with a rich man’s sympathetic sunglasses. Anyways, the writer’s description of ‘India of the dark and light’ does remind us the grim reality of growing divide once again (and my guess is Booker judges love it).

If this novel had come half a century earlier, it would have been branded as pro communism. An analogy can be established between the plot and ‘socialist revolutions. The protagonist ‘Balram Halwai’ represents the oppressed proletariat who overthrows his exploitative bourgeoisie masters by a violent revolution.

Now let us move to the Indian writer of masses, Chetan Bhagat. This man has made the best use his MBA degree. He knows the real meaning of 4 P’s; product, price, place and promotion, the meaning that is still to be discovered by the likes of Shobha Des and Vikram Seths.

His first novel sold 5000 copies in the first month, second sold 50000 and the third one has crossed the threshold of 500000. He writes what the youth of this country want; college life, fun, dreams and romance (of course with some premarital sex). And then it is priced at 95 Rs; certainly worth buying on a small train journey.

Coming to the ‘Three Mistakes of My Life’, it’s a ‘perfect’ novel. In other words, it is what Chetan Bhagat wants to write. It is much better than ‘One Night at Call Center’ and has many witty one liners that shows his growth as a writer.

I guess that he has a fetish for Bollywood movies, so his story at times starts looking like a Bollywood masala flick where everything is possible. But again, his novel is small so before your rail journey ends, this novel also finishes. Certainly worth its 95 Rs price!

And now coming to the third novel/book; ‘Freakonomics’. Of late (see I did not write Off late) I have developed a liking for Economics and this book is certainly for people who are discovering Economics. In case you have no opinion on the subject, this book is strongly recommended. Trust me once you read this, you will be able to answer what is common between teachers and sumo wrestlers; or better still ‘Why drug dealers still live with their mothers?’

Just for the sake of it

2008-10-13T12:19:00.011+05:30

Of late I have not been blogging. So this blog is just for the sake of it. It is a bunch of unexplained, unverifiable, random musings; nonetheless I feel no remorse in unleashing them on my naïve readers.

1. So why was ‘Rock On’ a hit? My take is that it had two elements that add beauty and mystique to life; Friendship and Passion.

Coming to the later first, in life we do not know how to have a good time. In many lucky souls, there is an inner voice that tells them that. A very few of them actually pursue it and that is when they attain self actualization. In others, the guilt of abandoning their dream remains. They go for the ‘best career’, ‘right moves’ and so on but somehow their inner voice keeps on disturbing them.

So when we see guys in ‘Rock On’ pursuing their passion, we ensure that at least in reel life, their move become a hit.

And now about ‘Friendship’; in the beginning I belonged to a school of thought that said, ‘There are no friends in the real world’. But years passed by and friendships just happened. If I look back, I made a decent number of friends who despite of ‘I being myself’ accepted me. Now I know that friends make our stay in this world comfortable, and we all like to see and feel the magic of true friendship.

2. I feel that as we grow in life, our dreams become ‘realistic’. It is a euphemism to state that life is not as colorful as we expect it to be in childhood. I was a dreamer and I motivated myself by believing that if I perform well in studies I will be everyone and everything in this world. In contrast to this on my first job, my manager motivated me by saying work well and you will get a pay hike. Yuck! What kind of motivaion was that. That was the day I welcomed myself in the real world. (Though I could never stop dreaming of becoming everyone and everything)

3. I got married and people have been asking me what has changed. Well, some things have certainly. I can no longer talk on phone for hours without facing an angry glance. I have become accountable and I have to give account of the towel thrown on bed, missing socks and what not. Since I will have to give account of these lines too, I think I should cut them short.

4. Like all great men, I cannot resist in giving a talisman. Whenever in doubt about anything, think ‘Anand hi param uddesha hai’ or ‘Happiness is the ultimate goal of life’. But this happiness has to be eternal so if you feel something can give you ever lasting happiness, do that!

5. After many days I found an intelligent celebrity blogger who writes more than "I got up at this time, named my dog this and met so and so.". Read Ramgopal Verma’s blog here.

The World Beyond

2008-09-20T20:40:00.001+05:30

It was 3 am. Her bleary eyes were hooked on to the monitor. On screen the message read, “This game would take you beyond time into another dimension and nothing will be same again. To proceed, press Enter.” She thought for a second and pressed the key that read……PLAY HTRAE

The reaction was nothing of the sort she expected. Her Hollywood movies instinct had predicted that heavy winds will blow, there will be an earthquake and she would find herself on an unknown land. But the laboratory was still the same; gloomy and silent. And that silence was unnerving; and the wait too…

But what choice she had other than to play that game. It had the answer for mankind’s age old quest.

All this had started by a stupid question, what can be beyond life? Being a student of astrophysics, this had always perturbed her. She constantly irritated her mentor, Dr Banketu with this and their discussions one day had given rise to ‘Hypothesis HTRAE’.

But she never again thought about it and Dr Banketu took retirement. When last she met him, there was a mysterious twinkle in his eyes. He only said he was going to change this world and she had dismissed it as one of his whimsical prophesies.

And then it all came back. Dr Banketu had vanished. He was not kidnapped, killed or missing; he just vanished. It was certain that he had entered his lab but he never came back. His wife only knew that he was designing a strange game HTRAE, and he was going to test its final play.

Suddenly it all flashed back. Years back, on that night they had found their perfect answer to ‘what lies beyond life’. Dr Banketu had absolute faith in equilibrium of nature and he was explaining that everything in this world is balanced; Negative by positive, matter by anti- matter and so on.

She had jumped and exclaimed, Earth is balanced by anti-earth! They named it HTRAE hypothesis, spelling earth backwards. So exactly similar to our earth, there must be an earth that spins opposite, is made of anti matter and has an opposite life. When a person dies on earth, he just goes there. Probably this was what scriptures called, heaven or hell.

There old men are born who get younger and younger and then one day vanishes from anti-earth. They make re entry on the earth in one of the wombs. This completes the cycle of life. Both of them continued reciting Gita ‘I am neither created, nor destroyed.

HTRAE and EARTH cross each at certain points and these are the times when dead are seen walking. These are also the times when maximum ghost stories are born. Everything so perfectly fitted in the hypothesis HTRAE. They had even calculated the velocity an object needs to enter HTRAE.

These thoughts kept on coming to her mind while her eyes were fixed on changing waves of the monitor. That eerie silence was making her uneasy. Everything seemed to be so eternally quite that she felt time had stopped moving.

And then she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Welcome to HTRAE” Dr Banketu said.

Eternal err English August

2008-09-09T13:19:00.008+05:30

As the days pass by, my appreciation of the eternal ‘English August’ keeps on increasing. It has been good twenty years when the novel was published, but not an iota has changed in the districts. I wonder when the trickle of trickle down theory will reach the interiors of India.

I got married recently. I know this, my colleagues in office know this and I doubt entire Bankura district knows this. So from all the corners I receive the query “Is your family staying with you?” Family, which family! I do not understand how I can create a ‘family’ after two months of marriage.

I have received official mail addressed to “The AS, IAS”. Well, well, well I am happy. There is The Himalayas, The Ganges and to and to give competition to all there is ‘The AS’.

I live in a palatial circuit house. Bathrooms here are almost equal to the room size. And there are some co-inhabitants too. At least eight lizards live in my room and the count is still on. Everyday my meal becomes a little spicier because of the 5-6 ants that mistake my daal for their swimming pool. You see, I live in perfect harmony with nature.

For those of us who have lived in cities, rural India presents a completely different picture and you have to live it to believe it. Add to that a different language and a different cultural milieu and that leaves me pondering if I actually know India.

Reading ‘digital divide’ in newspapers is one thing and feeling it on the ground another. I have to go to 50kms to another district to watch a decent movie in a mall. It was hard for me to explain to my driver what internet is and his sole idea of internet is examination results.

Otherwise Bankura is a beautiful and different place. Here bicycles outnumber the automobiles by many times. For the first time I have seen saree as a school dress and girls as small as in class sixth wear sarees. The taste of Rosogulla is beyond words and even other sweets are way better.

The natural beauty of the district is very good. In case you want to see some pictures of Bishnupur in Bankura, you can see them here.

When better half blogs

2008-08-28T17:38:00.003+05:30

For a long time I could blog in isolation. She sustained all my provocations and refrained from commenting. But now she has decided to maintain her blog.

And that is not a good sign for my humor :)

Wedding Blues: Part I

2008-08-24T22:11:00.004+05:30

I got married!

In case you are confused, this is not a humorous post. It has been one and a half month and I am still trying to digest it. In my district people ask me if I am staying with my ‘family’; …………family?

Lest I forget the fateful ninth day of July, in the year 2008 when my world got changed, I must chronicle it in my blog.

1600 hrs: The crowd kept on swelling and by late afternoon population density of my house equaled a Train’s general compartment. I was feeling awful but I tried looking busy touching numerous feet, meeting long lost relatives, exchanging smiles and giving impression that for me recognizing them was nothing but a cakewalk.

1700 hrs: Just before proceeding for the marriage venue, a ceremony started outside my house. My n number of brother and sister in laws started ‘grooming’ me. Grooming is a euphemism for almost stripping me outside my house and helping me with new clothes. Big kaajal was applied too on my 'golden facial' face.

After that an old dictator like relative pronounced that I cannot go to my house till I bring the bride there. I panicked as I was left in custody of my peripheral relatives.

1800 hrs: Sanity surfaced when my mom came with me for the ‘Well pooja’. I found that interesting when my aunt explained me the role play. Actually groom's mother was supposed to put her legs inside the well threatening that if her son does not get ready to marry, she will jump into the well. And then the son acquiesces by proceeding for the baraat.

1900 hrs: When I was getting ready for the baraat, all my near and dears were also getting ready. So here I was, getting ready for ‘supposedly’ the most memorable occasion of my life in an unknown house. All my siblings who were to help me vanished to their own beauty parlors. I somehow managed to enter that long Sherwani.

2000 hrs: I reached the marriage venue in time but most of my relatives were not so disciplined. First the bus got full, then there was a traffic jam and ultimately a vehicle of our side got entangled in a road accident. Sitting in the marriage venue in a fancy dress among the zillion stares was hell!

2200 hrs: When everyone was there, my baraat’s luxury car went missing. Locating it took another good half hour. And then the baraat started. The frenzy of baraat dance grew and I was left alone, in the ailing AC of the car that was moving at a snail’s pace. I wondered why this night was so slow.

2330 hrs: The baraat finally reached. I was not allowed to get down as bride’s brother had to carry me in his arms. Poor he because I am not on the lighter side; poor me because I was almost dropped three times.

0000 hrs: I was (slightly) tense and (slightly) nervous sitting on the stage facing a large staring crowd. And then a smile came on my face. She was slowly coming in her blue bridal dress; my stupid old friend. All eyes were at her and mine were there too. We shared a subtle smile and suddenly I was at ease.

All in a Day’s Work

2008-08-11T16:11:00.005+05:30

Today I will tell you a story. If you a purist, you will call it an incident. If you are naïve (or unconcerned) , you will pass it as a story.

Once upon a time there was a boy. Err…….. When the story occurred he was a man; educated, employed and married.

His job was a coveted one. He worked in the king’s administration, or he was the Regal Administrative servant. But then the King posted him in a far off land. To go there one had to pass seven deadly seas and people there spoke a different language. So for acquainting him to all this he was put on lengthy district training.

The good part of this training was that he was not given any responsibility; the bad part of this training was that he was not given any post. In other words he sometimes felt he was treated as a boy, and many time he felt he has already become a man.

Everyday he was sent to a different regal department. He being the King’s representative was treated with awe and honor; and all departments strived to impress upon him.

One such department was King’s Cart department. All carts paid taxes to the king. There was tax on cartload; there was tax on number of passengers. Above all, there was a tax on Cart driving license, a license that was difficult to get.

He learnt everything big or small and saw all procedures, trivial or urgent. But the he wanted to see a raid that was conducted to discipline erring carts. So a special raid was conducted to show to our young Regal Agent. Every inspector tried to be impeccably honest. They caught all the erring carts; they punished all offences big and small. A cart was fined here for a slight overload; a cart was fined there for a trivial traffic error. Our new Regal agent felt a tinge of guilt.

And this was not all. The traffic inspectors caught a frail old man with a wrong cart driving license. He was refusing to pay the fine. On any other day they would have left him with a small bribe but today they were demanding the hefty fine. They brought him to our Regal agent.

He was asked to act as a judge and punish this erring man. The man caught our protagonist’s feet and cried for mercy. He told him tales of his poverty, he told him tales of his professional woes. He also told him of his inability to pay the fine and he described in detail what shall happen to his family if he was jailed. He fell in a deep moral turpitude. He asked this man to wait.

Should he put duty before self and punished this man. Or he should pardon him listening to his heart. He pondered and thought; and thought and pondered. In the evening, he told the inspectors “Do to this man what you think is right” and left the raid.

From far off he saw the inspectors accepting some folded old currency notes.

PS: This is a 'story'. It might be 'distantly' related to some incident but most of the things are fiction here. Please treat it like that.

Life on the Other Side

2008-07-21T20:19:00.002+05:30

A crap movie is running in front of me. I am sitting next to somebody, talking to her and writing this blog. Lest you forget, I am married now. So I am permitted to write the blog, condition being I have to sit next to her.

It has been a long time and I owe you all updates. So here they are. In case you feel that quality has changed, blame it on the crap bollywood movie running in front of me (AND NOBODY ELSE!)

1. These days I am on, actually, err eh, oh yes, where people go, to visit after marriage, or tour places, OK I embarrassingly say it now ‘Honey moon’. So I am in Goa with my wife, seeing beaches, managing things, and still trying to digest that ‘I got married’.

In case you think everything is romantic on this world you are completely wrong. Today me and my wife decided to be friends again and we are feeling lighter. We were actually getting depressed feeling that we are on our honeymoon.

2. My marriage was an OK affair; I played my role well and she did her part. I still feel I acted in a play in which priests were the dictators, oh no directors. The Herculean ceremony ran for days together, drained complete energy out of our entire family, and extracted, dried and extremely exhausted two of us, the poor bride and the groom. Now I know why people marry only once in their lives.

3. After marriage most of our worries got over but the only concern we have is of our costly wedding dresses. Next time we can use them only if we get a role in Mithun Da’s movie. In case you have any contacts, please help us. Having wasted a considerable part of our parent’s income on our wedding dresses, we are worried how we can justify that expenditure.

4. Since I have not updated you on this, I much tell you that I have joined in Bankura district of West Bengal as Assistant Magistrate and Assistant Collector. To make it flashier I should tell that I have conducted raids with motor vehicles department, excise department and attended election meetings. Now when you are decently impressed, I am subtly adding that I have no office, no permanent vehicle and the Bankura district is so large that it does not even have one Internet café.

Let us hope I shall meet you soon. But as now I am a ‘responsible’ married man, I may blog less often. To tell you the truth, I am still thinking of ways to act more mature. If you have suggestions, do let me know.

The Treasures

2008-06-07T17:19:00.010+05:30

The broken video game symbolized many things.

I was ten year old and had gone to Bombay on vacation. The Video game was being sold on a beautiful shop and it became irresistible. After desperate persuasions, blackmailing and many tears I succeeded in getting it bought.

Today I found it. It took me back to a different world. It was the world of a kid whose worries were limited and desires small. And his world began and ended with his family.

To utilise my time at home, I was trying to clean it and the buried treasures kept coming back to me; or rather taking me back along with them. They meant a lot then; today they mean much more.

I found a picture of my parents. They were young and happy, and smiling too. My mother had put make up and my father’s face was serene. For me they would have been the prettiest couple, better than those of any fairy tale.

Why don’t you two look same today!

I found a statue of Buddha. There used to be a Dussehra fate in our town. I haggled with the vendor and bought it for one fourth. For next month or so, it was a must drawing room topic. Jaiswal uncle praised me a lot, Shukla uncle teased me in his familiar manner and my mother kept reassuring me that I had done a good job.

The statue was in good shape…………. but the dust had set in. An effort had to be done to see it properly.

I found a broken transistor too. To me, it was always broken. My father kept teasing my mother that it was the only thing he got as dowry. Enjoying that banter gave me absolute pleasure and I kept changing sides.

I was never allowed to open it and inspect; and my parents always thought they will get it repaired. Perhaps they forgot one cannot go back in time!

Everything that kept coming back had inscribed on it, people and places, and events too. They were happy and sad, dark and bright but they all greeted me with warmth. I told them that I loved them too; and many a times in my dreams, or when I am awake too; I desperately pine for them.

Crossroads

2008-06-03T08:54:00.004+05:30

Let the PM wait; let the Bharat Darshan Chronicles wait. And let every agenda on my blog’s list wait. At present I just want to be myself. This is the time when I wish to sit and watch things passing by…… on the lanes of memory.

Before you are more perplexed by my incoherent musings, I must tell you the cause. My stint in Mussoorie is over. It was more that 9 months of LBSNAA, it was more than 9 months of ‘training’; and wasn’t it yesterday that I was preparing to go there.

The life there was good, the life there was life. I never noticed that I liked it, and I never noticed I was attached. But today I miss it all.

I miss you my friends when I loved you. I miss that too when I hated you all. Perhaps I never cared for you; or perhaps I was too shy to admit so. There were lives made, there were lives pined for. And I was honored, every time you shared that small secret with me.

Lest I forget; though I never will; I admit that I loved that coffee machine, I loved that lounge. And lest I forget; though I never will; I loved those two friends too, whom I pierced from my bouts of wise cracks.

There are things that stay there, as we move on in life; the clouds, the cold, the mountains and the ‘exhilarating’ horse riding (pun intended only for one who will get it). And now we will see the heat of the districts.

Coming out from this poetry mode, I must also tell you that I am going to do my district training in Bankura district of West Bengal. So if you see the inactivity on my blog, blame it on poor internet connectivity in interior districts.

Turbulence in life will also increase from the event that’s going to be in July. I know the consequences of using the word turbulence knowing that she will read this sooner or later, but can’t resist my humor though. I am getting married then.

A Visit to Democracy; or the Symbol of it: Part I

2008-05-12T17:15:00.005+05:30

The time was 11 AM on the 5th of May. The heat in Delhi was unforgiving but 92 officers got formally dressed up, ladies in their saris and gentlemen in their black Band galas (our ceremonial dress) and started their day in the capital. We were having our attachment with the citadel of Indian democracy, our Parliament.

The parliament has a special bureau that specializes in research and training about parliament and its procedures. It is called Bureau of Parliamentary Studies (BPST). It runs courses for first time MP’s and all others who are stakeholders in our democracy. We were attached with BPST for a five day course.

After an hour’s journey we reached the parliament and entered the BPST after a multilayered security checking. The schedule for the day was to begin our course by watching a live session in the house. So after a small briefing, we proceeded towards the Lok Sabha.

While walking in the corridors of parliament, I was having multitude of thoughts. This was the system I stood for; this was the place where the fate of our nation is given shape. In the Kaleidoscope of time I saw Viceroys walking, our parliamentarians of British India giving speeches and then Nehru delivering his ‘tryst with destiny’.

Lost in these musings, I reached the visitor’s gallery of Lok Sabha. My first reaction was, Lok Sabha is so small! It was smaller than any auditorium and looked like a congested classroom. The press gallery was just above the speakers whereas the Visitor’s gallery was at the remaining periphery. MP’s were entering the house and taking the seats allotted to them. They were cracking jokes, having cross talks and some were making strange salutations to introduce humor in the house.

I spotted Dr. Manmohan Singh, Sharad Pawar, Pranab Mukherjee, Advani, Shahnawaj Hussain, Lalu Prasad and many others. The Speaker’s entry was announced and the house resumed order. First the agenda of the house was announced and then Speaker announced that proceedings against the MP’s for unruly behavior in the house shall be stopped. The decision was applauded by all members. Then on some issue regarding an apology, the house went in a pandemonium.

When silence was restored L. K. Advani referring to Pranab Mukherjee and said to the speaker “Sir, I along with the leader of Opposition, Shri Pranab Mukherjee promise full co operation in running of the house”

Speaker instantly shot back “He is anticipating” and the house burst into laughter. After making some other announcements the house was adjourned sine die. The entire thing happened in not more than 15 minutes and to tell you the truth I was awed by seeing so many great personalities.

Here I must also tell you how visitors sit in the gallery. Absolute silence has to be maintained and there are marshals to ensure that. One cannot cross one’s legs as it amounts to showing disrespect to the house. You even cannot put your hands on your friend’s shoulder. Also, visitors are present there as if they do not exist. So they do not rise when the speaker comes, they also do not rise when MP’s and Press rise for the National Song.

We came back to our BPST classroom. After one or two lectures, Speaker Sri Somnath Chaterjee came to formally welcome us for our course and addressed us. A noticeable thing was that he was very humble and apologized three times for coming 2 minutes late.

Our first day ended and we rushed to our hostels to get rid of our Band Galas. Many more things happened during BPST but they shall be blogged in the second part. Come Back :)

Of A Love, and A Story

2008-04-24T22:24:00.026+05:30

“It will go away” Abhishek said as if feeling the pain of Shivangi himself. His expressions were of a scared child; or that of a hesitant liar. Three days back, Shivangi, his wife had fallen from the stairs. There was only a minor injury in the back but the pain had lingered.

Abhishek had known Shivangi for years. Theirs was the kind of relationship that others call ‘made for each other’ types. They fell in love while in school, went ahead to make their careers, and then got married.

Shivangi quickly controlled her tears, listening to Abhishek’s pleading. She was more concerned about his panic than her own pain. He was still a teenager for her; a stubborn teenager who loved her. He could never see her suffer, he could never see her cry. Her tears made him restless; always………. ‘almost all ways’. So much had changed but Abhishek never grew up.

She quickly took bath and got dressed up in her best to show him that she was fine. After a long time she saw him carefree and she felt the same love she felt for him ten years ago. Thoughts wandered taking her to the marriage and then she remembered Abhishek was her husband...... H U S B A N D

Every time the word sounded so strange!

Life after marriage was same. They were more of friends and the stereotyped ‘man and wife’ roles had not yet emerged. They still were Abhishek and Shivangi.

“You are not going to the office today, right?” Abhishek asked. Her thoughts were broken and she came back to the present. Her project’s deadline was coming near she was already behind schedule.

“I have to go today. The pain is subsiding and I think I shall manage” she announced. Abhishek was not too happy with that. He tried to convince her why she needed rest. It began from logic, then turned into an argument and then went on to become ‘cant you do this if I say? ’

But she decided to go. She went ahead not noticing the frown on his face, not choosing to notice the frown on his face. That day he did not give her a call in office. Some feel restless if they do not read the newspaper and some feel restless if they miss their tea. But for anyone in love, nothing creates more restlessness than not receiving a phone call from the lover.

So in the afternoon, she called. In the beginning he refused to speak. In next few calls there were pauses, long cryptic pauses. She now understood that she had miscalculated his anger. She came home worried, and somewhat concerned. She started with apologies and then she tried to cajole.

His outburst came naturally; something he never controlled. It began from her lack of care for herself. Then he screamed how less his words meant for her. And then the flow took its course. Corpses came out from the closet; the ‘once upon a time’ issues emerged. He reminded her of all her flaws, of all the wrong things she had done and of all the things that were not so good between them.

And then he stopped. There were tears in her eyes and they were more than her injury had caused in last three days. She was crying and he could see her suffer.

PS: Many people have asked me what happened next. The truth is I don’t know but if I have to guess, I will say they they lived (happily/sadly) ever after. But yes, they lived together :)

Do We Lack Brain?

2008-04-18T19:24:00.012+05:30

Watched ‘Shourya’ on this weekend featuring Rahul Bose, Minishaa Lamba and KK Menon. There are movies that are bad and there are movies that are more than bad. You are disgusted not only while watching them, but they also disturb your calm for coming few days. Shourya is that kind of movie.

Its biggest crime is that it is a ‘bad copy’ of ‘A Few Good Men’. Copying is not good but making a bad copy is obnoxious. Mr. Moviemaker copied and did not do even that job well. First of all they made a complete mess of the story. The accused maintains a constipated face all the time and rarely speaks to enlighten the audience what has happened. Before you make any sense, the intermission comes and you wonder when the movie shall begin. And as soon as it begins, it ends!

There is no case and it is also not solved. You may say that it is also not a movie. Oh yes there some outpours from Rahul Bose and some from KK. Perhaps the reason is that producers vaguely remembered something similar in A Few Good Men. Now Bollywood walas do not have good English, so you cannot blame them from not copying the content. They brought our most clichéd outpour, religious hatred. And bingo, the case is solved, accused not guilty………… Wait a minute, was the case about a murder or communalism?

Now let us come to the actors. Rahul Bose speaks much more than required. He is a bad imitation of carefree Tom Cruise. Minishaa Lamba is there because of the dictum ‘A bollywood movie must have a female lead’. KK is OK because he comes for a small time, so he does not have time to spoil his role.

I feel that they decided to make a copy, and then add bollywood masala to it. So they added songs, added a beautiful female but forgot to write role for her, and decided to bring comedy by Rahul Bose’s foolish jokes. To help the audience in remembering the name of the movie, the characters repeat word ‘Shourya’ in their each second dialogue.

I am disappointed because movie is actually meant for the niche or the multiplex audiences. There also did the producers feel that viewers will not be able to appreciate a solid case. You can neither close your mind thinking it to be ‘David Dhawan genre’, nor can allow it any work as it will lead to only questions, not answers.

It not only is a bad movie but it also brings a bad name to the army. The blame of communalism scars the biggest reputation of the army, that is secularism. To add to the confusion, in the end they show various news reports of human right violations by the Indian army.

Why can’t Bollywood produce one good flawless movie? I rephrase, Can’t Bollywood produce one good flawless copy?

I seriously wonder that do we lack brain.

Bharat Darshan Chronicles-III

2008-04-09T23:37:00.012+05:30

This is third part of the Bharat Darshan series. If you are a new visitor, you may read the first and second parts by clicking the hyperlinks.

We traveled from Dantewada to Vishakhapatnam by road. The landscape of the region is marvelous spreading across Chattisgarh, Orrisa and Andhra Pradesh. The entire road runs along Eastern Ghats.

The path had ideal setting of sceneries we used to draw as a child. There were beautiful mountains and the river running across them. Then there was that colorful sky at the sunset with various shades and the red ball of fire vanishing in the horizon. There also were small scattered hamlets that dissolved in the landscape as twinkling lights along with sunset.

We reached Vishakhapatnam at around nine at night. Our attachment was with the Eastern Naval Command. A submariner had come to receive us. He introduced himself along with his rank and that’s when we realized that we should have known the hierarchy of the armed forces. Our predicament was to continue for next few days. We were taken to a Navy guest house named ‘Kremlin’, signifying our long defense ties with Russia. Our rooms were in no way less than any good hotel. After dumping our luggage, we rushed to the Mess, to have our dinner. A Mess in armed forces is quite different in many ways.

The atmosphere is formal with a proper dress code. You go there and sit with a stern face and the rest of the job shall be done by the waiters. A plate will appear in front of you along with other items. You try hard not make any noise while eating with the fork and knife. After that you close your plate by putting the fork and spoon parallel and the waiter will ensure he picks it from the right direction. Those three days of ‘formal dining’ were the most stressful part of our attachment.

Next day our Navy attachment officially began with a visit to Maritime Warfare center. There sailors are taught, how to control a ship with the help of computer aided simulations. War games are prepared and trainees learn to use the controls of the ship. After this we went to visit a warship INS Ranjit. The captain of the ship was the only serving Mahavir Chakra winner in Navy. He explained us about defense equipments, materials bought from Russia and the difference from their American counterparts.

Here I have a good news for ladies. Any lady who goes on a warship receives a salute from the officer in command. The reason is that they treat ship as a lady, so it is a token of respect. And then came the visit that we can never forget; the visit to submarine INS Sindhudhwaj.

The difficult life that submariners live has to be seen to be believed. A person cannot stand erect in a submarine. When it ventures out in the sea, the submariners get a ration of one mug water a day to do all their activities. They have no contact with the outer world and no one other than the captain knows where they are, how long the operation shall continue and what is happening in the outside world. Also in case of an accident or attack, the chances of survival are slim.

In the evening we had an interaction with the Chief of the command, a Rear Admiral. He briefed us about the importance of Navy in general and operations of Eastern command in particular. He explained us how Navy is a strategic force which has an important role in the present geopolitical scenario. He also told us about the continuous struggle of Navy to get a bigger share in the defense budget. The official schedule had no plan of taking us out into the sea but we requested him for that and he agreed. The day after was going to be in the sea, on a warship INS Kripan.

Our sea journey started early in the morning. We were welcomed by the captain and the entire crew. There we came to know that in the night at two, they had returned from a military exercise. They had been in the sea for last two months and now they were going to have rest. But then they were asked to take us into the sea. I was really impressed by their cheerfulness in entertaining the forced guests, i.e. IAS probationers.

The weather was good and it was amazing to feel the breeze on the deck Even walking was difficult due to wind but we tried to emulate the Titanic pose. We were treated royally on the ship with juices and shakes being served on the deck After sometime the captain gave a go ahead to the exercises that were simultaneously being planned.

A ship called INS Sukanya came along and then both ships exchanged man and material by rope. They sent us ‘Idlis’ while our ship sent a bag of sweets. Then men were exchanged via rope connecting the two ships. After that an IAF chopper landed on the moving ship and then flew back. Firing on a target was also practiced and there I fired the first machine gun of my life. The day spent on the ship was one of the best experiences of Bharat Darshan.

That day we came back late. In the evening some of us went to the beach. Staring the raw form of nature evokes strange feelings and the philosophical questions come gushing back to me, what is life, what is my aim, and what I want to do. Many times the truth of life is equally simple and complex. When I look back, I feel that everything in life just happens and we are only spectators.

Next day we went to see the ‘Satavahanas’ that was training school for submariners. The training there is more difficult than life in the submarine. And after every three years, everyone has to come back and go through the training again. In the afternoon we had a debriefing session with the Chief of Staff, Admin. It was more of a general ‘Gyan session’. He shared his philosophy of life. Interestingly he criticized the hierarchy of civil services, an element that was more pervasive in armed forces. He told us an interesting story.

A young IAS was newly posted as an SDM in a district. The DM called him for a meeting that was for discussing the arrangements of marriage of his daughter. The young officer had no clue so he took his head clerk along with him for this meeting. The DM asked how many sweets should be present in the wedding. The head clerk prompted the SDM to say that five kinds of sweets will be good.

After the marriage, our SDM received a call from the DM thanking him for the arrangements of sweets. When the SDM inquired from his head clerk how arrangements were made and from which fund the money came, he replied “Sir, didn’t you pass an order for spraying insecticides in the villages. The insecticides have been ‘perfectly’ sprayed and that is where the money came from”.

Well, I sincerely pray that we don’t end up spraying insecticides in such a fashion. Our official Navy attachment ended with this. For most of us, this was the first close interaction with armed forces. I was inspired by the great work they are doing for the nation work and I wish that we, as civil servants are able to emulate it.

Next day we had to move for Rajamundry, and then to Sringarei coalfields for our public sector attachment

LBSNAA TIMES

2008-03-28T22:55:00.024+05:30

Today I will tell you the secret of successful blogging, if you do not have anything to write, write anything. In other words I want to say that I have nothing specific to write so I will write LBSNAA times….

Disappointment galores:

The report of Pay commission is out and media got it completely wrong, we have no such desire of jumping from the roof. Do you remember bold headlines, 40% hike for babus, of yes a good 40%. But did anyone forget to mention, hike is only in the basic pay. The real hike may not be more than four thousand rupees a month and the recommendations shall stay for next ten years. There is a feeling that in government, honesty is penalized. Previously we were having peanuts, now the honorable pay commission may enable us to eat groundnuts, indeed a qualitative improvement!

By the way, I just love news channels screaming, Holi bonanza for babus, showing money raining in offices and Newspapers asking SMS’s from their worthy readers if any hike in salary for civil servants justified. For a long time, I was missing a good comedy show.

A Learning Experience:

We are learning horse riding and I must tell you, horse riding is a real learning experience. By just sitting on horseback we learn to worship the person who invented the automobiles. We never even felt before how comfortable it was to enter a car, have a smooth ride and stop it as per our wish. Horses are ‘almost’ the same, just a few probability issues here and there.

And trust me horses are real fun too. It is funny to see, yes see (and not feel) a probationer kissing the ground when horse revolts thinking how can LBSNAA make a donkey ride a horse.

Inservice Jokes:

An auditor from Indian Audit and Accounts Service (IAAS) audits an IAS and tells him that his working style conforms to the full form of his service, IAS= I am Safe. The IAS replies that you too exhibit the traits of your service, IAAS= I am absolutely safe.

What do you call the mess of Intelligence Bureau; An Intelligence Mess.

My Great Discovery:

Serendipity is the effect by which one accidentally discovers something fortunate. During Bharat Darshan we were having a lecture by a private organization. While explaining about Corporate Social Resposibilty, they elaborately told us how much they have done for the differently abled kids and they also added that they have opened many 'mentally retarded schools'. Oh I shouted Eureca!

I discovered the truth why I write such stupid blogs and moreover you read it. All of us studied in mentally retarded schools which told us what is right rather than allowing us to discover the truth. By the way, professional academies are not very different!

And this is how it began

2008-03-24T22:39:00.004+05:30

Hope is a good thing, and no good thing ever dies. Looking back, he can say that it is true.

It was a perfect case of love at first sight. Angel was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and this was the reason sufficient to fall in love. Though his previous ‘first sight loves’ proved to be a disaster, he still had hope. With full faith in his abilities, he decided to make a strategy to win over Angel.

The plan of action was to take help of Sandhya. Oh yes, I haven’t told you about Sandhya. She was the bubbliest girl in the class and had a horde of friends. Her laughter could be heard from a mile and everybody liked her. Incidentally she was also the best friend of Angel.

So he befriended Sandhya and soon started talking to her for hours. In a way they became the best of pals and he was awed by her ability to look deep into his heart. She could castigate him severely and still pamper him as a child. Their ease with each other was natural her company was a real bliss. Thus time passed and passed and days went and went.

Our protagonist was living a happy life when murmurings started in his brain “Actually Sandhya is the right girl for you”. Once again he discovered his true love; and this time he decided to tell her all. But loving a girl is one thing, and telling her that another.

That day as usual, she rang him and their long conversations began. They talked about their childhood, they talked about their friends. He again told her about his crushes and then he told her why Angel was not a right choice for him. That is when it happened.

She asked him bluntly, who was the new girl he had started liking. At times, it requires all the effort in the world to utter few words. He was taken aback, found it hard to breathe but he mustered all his courage to utter “YOU”.

Suddenly he saw stars in front of his eyes and before she could give any reply, he banged the receiver down. This was one of the few times in his life when he felt foolish. First he told her about his previous crushes; then he discussed about Angel and after telling all that he said he actually liked her. What a proposal it had been!

Next few days were filled with melancholy. He was too scared to go to school, so he kept bunking it. He started appreciating Ghazals; and felt all of them applicable to his life. Without being formally rejected, he felt being one. In a way, life seemed all right but everything is not that voluntary. Soon his mother forced him to go back to the school.

He did not know how to behave, so he acquired a permanent sad and hurt look. He rarely talked to Sandhya and continued behaving bizarre. When it became quite uncomfortable, she came and said “Can’t we just be friends?”

Well he agreed; actually he had to. The story remained in the same phase for quite some time. The strange thing was that he still had hope!

Bharat Darshan Chronicles-II

2008-03-16T08:30:00.026+05:30

This is in continuation to the first article on Bharat Darshan. If you have not read it, you may see it here.

Early in the morning we started for Kirandool block. It is two hours drive from Dantewada. The BDO of the block had come to pick us up and we were going to stay in the government quarter allotted to the BDO. He himself stayed in another town which was good for the education of his kids.

The schedule for the day was to visit some nearby villages. The BDO decided that first he will take us for lunch which was organized on a Waterfall known as 'Phoolpada'. I was amazed by the beauty of the waterfall and its surroundings. Some years back it used to be a favorite picnic spot for the tourists but today hardly anyone went there as the region was badly naxal infested.

The arrangement of our lunch was done by men from a nearby village. They had carried with them utensils, cooking material, vegetables etc inside that dense forest. Lunch arrangements for four of us had required not less than forty people!

There I interacted with the Sarpanch of the village. He was illiterate, naïve and knew nothing about the government schemes. But he told me about the reasons for rise of Naxals, also called as ‘Andarwale’ in the region. I was also not aware that Dantewada has been declared as the capital of the red corridor by the Naxals.

Incidentally I also discovered an interesting fact there. Tribals still hold their arrows with forefinger and middle finger and they never use their thumbs. Does that remind you of Eklavya’s story?

After having our lunch, we went to visit the village. From a long distance we were welcomed by a Gaur dance party which escorted us into the village dancing and our entry became almost like a procession.

Tribal villages are divided into small ‘Padas’. Not more than six seven houses are clustered in a Pada and the next Pada can be half a kilometer away. This causes a big burden on the administration in providing electricity, water supply and roads.

Also, people live in joint families and they never go for division of agricultural land. They still have big plots of lands registered in names of their ancestors deceased long ago. This causes a big problem in providing them the government benefits as majority of them are designed for small and marginal farmers.

We came to our quarter in the late evening. On TV, news was being flashed that a police station in a nearby district has been attacked by the naxals. The peon staying with us consoled that naxals ‘generally’ do not attack civil servants, only police is their target.

We were slightly worried that night and our worries got magnified by the gunshots we heard in the late night. You might like to know that we were in a house whose front doors even could not be bolted due to misalignment. I forced myself to sleep but I remember having restless dreams. Early in the morning we called the SP who told us that everything was all right. The gunshots were fired by the police itself to check their preparedness.

Next day, we went to visit a local ‘Haat’ or the markets organized weekly which were marked by heavy police presence. There are two things that shall always be present in a Haat. One is the traditional cock fight. Blades are tied on the nails of the cock and the winner cock bleeds its opponent to death. A considerable amount of money is gambled on such fights.

Second is the ‘Sulfi drink’ or the ‘Bastar beer’. This is local booze made from the Sulfi tree found in the region. Enjoyment of life is a major component of tribal society and social drinking is also a part of it. Both men and women consume liquor and in the late afternoon many of them can be seen drunk.

They have many customs which we may not be looked favorably in ‘cultured’ society. During spring season, unmarried boys and girls go in the forest to collect forest produce. In the night they sing, dance and booze in the forest and spend the night there itself. It is also a method of finding one’s spouse.

Tribals live a contended life. They are happy with their lives and many times they do not like the externally enforced ‘development’. They also do not want to work hard for improving their lives. I still wonder what is important in life; to be happy or to be ‘developed’.

We also interacted with other government officials posted in the region. They have their own set of problems. A doctor told us that naxals coerce them to treat their wounded members. After that police harasses them for helping the naxals. Police also at times pressurizes them to issue fake postmortem reports when they have not even seen the dead bodies. And then we wonder sitting in cities why no doctor is ready to serve in interior areas.

Two days passed away safely in the block. We had to see the same ‘Gaur dance’ three times, drink ‘Sulfis’ everywhere and take petitions for electricity, hand pumps and government benefits. The initial enthusiasm was waning away and it was becoming difficult to maintain the same zeal. Next day we came back to the NMDC guest house. A major thing in the area that was left till now was to see a ‘Salwa Judum’ camp.

Literally Salwa Judum means meeting for peace. When Naxalism was deeply entrenched, naxals started targeting innocent villagers in order to force them for joining the naxal movement. They also started imposing heavy levies on the traders. This created resentment among the general public.

In one Haat, people decided to march towards interior villages and convince the villagers to quit naxalism. When a big crowd entered the village, naxals were not able to frighten them away. This became a method and it caused a sharp decline in the cadre strength of naxals.

They retaliated by brutally killing innocent villages whom they suspected to be Judum members. Exodus of villagers started from the villages towards the cities.Thousands came abandoning entire villages and Sulwa Judum camps were set up.

So next day we went to visit Dornapal camp. Its population is more than 17000, which is many times the original Dornapal village. It looks like any other city slum with narrow lanes, bad sewage system and dense population. But I must say that administration is taking good care of them considering their scarce resources.

Government has given support to many for building houses. Ration is provided to every family free of cost. There are Aanganwadis, primary schools and ration shops. And these families keep waiting for the time when they will be able to go back again to their homes.

The strategy of Sulwa Judum has always been controversial. But one thing is certain. The tribal way of life is completely changed in the camps. Many houses have got electricity connection, TV’s and their clothing now is similar to the urbanized people. I doubt if anyone in camps shall ever go back. The question remains that, is changing the way of life of tribals an affordable price in fight against naxalism.

Our official assignments were over and the plan for the day after was to visit the Kanger Valley National Park. The park is famous for the ‘Gandak’ limestone caves. Dripping water causes formation of protruding limestone structures. It is completely dark inside and we had to carry many torches and a horde of guides with us. Then we went to the Tirathgarh waterfalls where steps have been made by the falling water. Chattisgarh has good potential for tourism and this part had considerable presence of tourists as effect of naxalism was less in the region.

In the evening we met the collector, briefed him about our observations and thanked him for making our stay comfortable there. Next day early in the morning we went to the famous ‘Danteshwari Devi’ temple. From there we started our journey to Vishakhapatnam, where we were going to have our Navy Attachment. In the evening when we were reaching Vishakhapatnam, we got the news that Jail has been broken in Dantewada and more than 300 naxals have escaped!

Bharat Darshan Chronicles-I

2008-03-09T01:06:00.012+05:30

As promised earlier, I shall share with you all my experiences of Bharat Darshan. They will be long, they may be boring….. but trust me they will tell you about ‘Bharat’; which may be different from your perception of India. To minimise the boredom, I shall keep the chronicles in small episodes.

With the beginning of December, the cold was getting worse in Mussoorrie. Foundation course had just ended and those not into IAS had gone to their respective academies. LBSNAA wore a deserted look and we all who remained here wanted a desperate change. So we were happy to pack our bags and move on to Bharat Darshan.

Bharat Darshan Tour, alternatively known as the Winter Study Tour is an integral part of IAS training. It is an eight week tour of almost entire India starting from first week of December. The course handbook describes its purpose as “to expose officer trainees to a wide range of organizations and situations they are going to run into during their careers and also give them a glimpse of the diversity of our cultural heritage.”

Our journey began on 8rth Dec. The group had 11 members with one lady officer. Our first destination was Dantewada, the heartland of Naxalism where we had our tribal attachment. We started by a bus from the academy to Ambala and from there we took Chattisgrah Express to Raipur.

The entire journey was more than 48 hours long. I chatted with the group, started reading ‘A Suitable Boy’ by Vikram Seth, sat idle, walked in the train and tried to kill the long idle hours. I sat at the window for hours looking outside. Civilizations came and went; lone lights twinkled at the far ends and fields made way for the cities. At times the monotony was broken by the rivers; and also by the the sound of train passing over a steel bridge. Looking outside the window was a serene bliss and when I look back, the path was more beautiful than the destination. Perhaps the same holds for life too.

We reached Raipur station on 10th morning. And that was the place where realization came that we are into a premier service. Five Boleros had come to pick us up, there was a horde of local officials present and a meticulous arrangement was in place to welcome us. From the station we proceeded to the newly built State Transit House.

Raipur is a mid sized city, still very much different from the densely populated cities of north India. Roads do not qualify for being of the capital of a state. Big construction works are visible and the State Guest house was also recently made. A small surprise was waiting for us. Dantewada was still eight hours away and these Boleros were meant to carry us there.

We started within an hour as it was not advisable to get late in reaching Dantewada. The countryside of Chattisgarh is full of forest cover. Teakwood is abundantly present along with other dense vegetation. After half the journey when we passed a district called Jagdalpur, there was a noticeable difference in infrastructure. Roads became narrower, they were in bad shape and the signals of my Reliance mobile went away. There was unfinished work going on at many places and the number of police pickets increased. Incidentally, the naxals heartland had just begun.

It was quite late when we reached Dantewada and we were taken to an NMDC guest house. I was surprised to see a public sector maintaining such a good guest house. The rooms had all the modern facilities and the staff was very cordial. Most of them were Malayalis and the guest house had the entire staff from Indian Coffee House. Next day our tribal attachment had to formally begin by a presentation by the DM and SP.

On the way to collectorate, a small program was arranged for us in a village. We were traditionally welcomed by flowers and garlands and the local villagers presented the traditional ‘Gaur dance’ for us. The dance was performed by more than thirty men and women with all the paraphernalia like big drums and head-gears having Bison horns. We also met some orphan physically handicapped children who were looked after in a nearby ‘Ashram’. The Ashram system in Chattisgarh is a kind of boarding school. Books, dresses and food are provided there and children go to their houses once in a fortnight.

We were touched by the elaborate arrangements done and the respect shown to us. We could not understand why they are taking so much pain for entertaining us. We were just probationers and we could have done nothing for them even if we wanted to. But then we realized, they did not want anything from us. It was due to the respect that IAS still commands. The dancers were elated when we took their drums and headgears and had a photograph with them. Our appreciation of the work that Ashram was doing for the orphans was good enough to bring a smile on their face. There are times when one feels good to be in service, and this was certainly one of them.

The meeting with the DM and SP turned out to be an eye opener. We came to know about the gravity of situation in Dantewada. DM and SP were not using government vehicles due to the frequent landmines. Most of the policemen were in civil dress. The entire district is in a complete war like situation and battle lines are clearly drawn. And the administration is fighting a real war when the region is not even declared as ‘disturbed’.

The big deal about declaring a region as ‘disturbed’ is that special schemes can be adopted there. For e.g. there is 50% lack of administrative staff but no incentives can be provided to those working in the interior areas as it would be against general financial rules. If shoes have to be procured for the policemen, it will take the normal hierarchical chain where a file may have to pass through twenty tables, and a small query at any level may send it downwards tracing the same path.

Before visiting there we all knew that Naxalism is a socio economic problem. The simple solution is, develop the region and Naxalism will vanish. But we were wrong. Reasons of emergence of Naxalism are socio economic, but once it finds its roots, it becomes a law and order problem. Why will Naxals allow development if it can threaten their own existence. Hence in the interior villages, there are no schools, no connectivity, no electricity and in short no government. In case you want to know what is ‘interior’; today also there are police stations where it takes 72 hours for any outside help to reach!

Next day we had to move to interior areas, live there for three days and understand the ground situation. No security cover was given to us as it could have invited trouble. Our drivers told us that naxals must have by now come to know by now that we were going to visit their terrain. To tell you the truth, we were all little scared!

The chronicle shall continue. I have many more things to tell, so keep coming back.

Why I became a Civil Servant?

2008-03-01T19:28:00.021+05:30

This article by cosmic voices has prompted me to write my answer to “Why I became a civil servant?” The reasons are very much the same as mentioned there but I could not resist imparting my wisdom on this vital subject.

There are questions like what is truth, what is morality, what is right. And then there is Dholpur House’s (UPSC Office) variant of these, “Why you want to become a civil servant?” Somehow I could escape/fool/convince board members about my reason there and now I can calmly blog the truth.

My answer is, I had nothing else to do.

Not convinced, OK, I shall elaborate. I come from middle, middle class and my parents are in government service. I knew what they knew, what the township in which we lived knew. My license to success in this world was education. And what is the biggest success one can achieve through education. You got it right, civil services. I wanted the biggest TV, smartest car, largest house, the most beautiful girl in the town, and along with all of them, the best job.

Some of you might not be very happy about my platonic reasons. Till now I have given reasons that came in my adolescence. Where was the zeal to do something for the country, where was the motivation from inside to do what I really wanted to do, where were the ‘more mature’ reasons. I shall give them too.

I hated the slow way in which the clerk in a government office did his work. I could never forget the nurse in the government hospital that misbehaved with the patients. I turned my eyes from the horde of beggars on the traffic signal as if they do not even exist. And then, adrenalin gushed in me too when I watched Rang De Basanti.

After all such incidents, I heard a voice inside me, do something about it. The answer available was, become a civil servant. In fact as I grew, I could satisfy all my ambitions by dreaming to become a civil servant. I wanted to have a social status, a secure future and a challenging work. I also wanted to make my parents feel proud. Whenever I had an ambition, I asked myself, “Will it be satisfied if I became a civil servant?” The answer was always yes.

As I grew, it became an obsession and I had to achieve it. No other service could have offered me even half of these. The bug of becoming an IAS entered in the childhood and I had no escape.

The reasons may sound selfish, but in my philosophy of life, everything has to be done in one’s own self interest. I help somebody not because of my kindness, but because I feel good after that. I would like to work for my country not because one should work for his country, but because ‘I’ shall feel happy after doing that. I never believed or unfortunately could not have any 'benevolent' reasons.

I do not know if what I was able to state the truth, or if I even know the truth. That is why I said, this question is a variant of all those philosophical questions which do have ‘right’ answers. Everyone has to seek his/her own definitions. I even doubt if UPSC members are really serious when they ask “Why you want to become a civil servant?”

When all my ‘selfish’ goals are satisfied in this service, and I knew no other alternatives, tell me am I not correct when I say, I had nothing else to do!

The Proposal

2008-02-22T17:33:00.013+05:30

He never was the 'romantic types'. Love was something that just happened, like most other things in his life. But the problem being in love is, there is another party and that too may have expectations.

So his girlfriend had some expectations that were imported from foreign lands. She kept on saying “You have not proposed me yet”. This is what happens when there are number of diamond advertisements with men putting the ring in the drink on a candlelight dinner. I bet in real life girl would have gulped the ring and then both would have proceeded to see a doctor.

Long years ago he had somehow uttered “I love you” and that was pretty traumatic in itself. But then this is how life is. One cannot keep on hearing the taunts for whole life. So he decided that he shall propose her, formally.

After Herculean efforts in shopping he managed to buy the ring. The plan was that he will get a lot of flowers, some chocolates and candles. The decided venue was the roof of her house on which he shall propose her with candles and chocolates among the red roses. He also wrote a sentimental poem (which she still claims was a speech) for the event.

The fateful day came and his preparations were perfect. He rang her and told that he will come to meet her in the late evening so that she too returns late from her office, those being her busy days. This would have given him time for preparations.

He reached her house along with fall the paraphernalia. The big items were promptly hidden on the stairs. Then he rang to reconfirm when she was coming.

And then it all began. He could hear the ring tone very loudly. He realized it was ringing from just down the stairs. When he turned back he saw her coming back with her big smile. He almost panicked and rushed outside citing an excuse to hide the flowers and candles on the roof. When he went there, the roof was locked !

He took a deep breadth and came down. There he found her jumping and eating the bunch of chocolates which he forgot to hide. She was so happy discovering the chocolates.

He decided now to do away with candles too and salvage whatever was left of his plan. He brought the bouquet of roses and called her in the balcony. She was surprised by his nervousness. And then he began his poem/speech. It took her time to realize that he was ‘formally’ proposing her.

After one paragraph he forgot his lines, thought for a while and anyhow completed it. And then he came on his knees to present the ring. She was so shocked that she also sat on the floor. Under great confusion he gave her the ring, difficultly uttered “Will you marry me?” and completed the proceedings. She promptly accepted and hugged him. Then she cried for a second and laughed for an hour.

And after that he decided he will never propose anyone again.

Back to Blogger

2008-02-18T22:43:00.005+05:30

Lest I cause any delay in writing a blog (having alibi of completing report backlogs), I should tell you all that I am back from my Bharat Darshan, and back same as I was………….almost.

I am safely back from the Naxal battlefield of Dantewada, from the machine gun firings on INS Kulish at Vishakhapatnam and back mesmerised from the SHG’s magic of Rajamundry.

I also happen to be back from the blasting mines of Singareni coalfields and the hitech city and changing face of India, Hyderabad.

Then I roamed in Bangalore, in Chitradurga and missed Hampi by a whisker. From there I touched the sand of Mariana beach in Chennai and got amazed by the beauty of Mahabalipuram.

Not to leave islands of India, I went to Andamans and floated on the absolutely clear waters of Havelock beach.

To match the distances of Andamans, I went to Assam and then to Arunanchal Pradesh, with the 2nd mountain Division of Army. Having almost completed my trip, I went to the Kaziranga National Park and spotted wildlife before returning to Delhi.

After all this I am back and back with a lot of stories…. or tales to tell, and that I shall tell in detail. So keep reading.

Are you still thinking why I wrote “I am back ‘almost’ same”?
Forgot to tell, got engaged on 10th feb :)

Civil Services: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

2007-12-05T22:26:00.001+05:30

The charm of civil services has always been an enigma. It is struggling hard to maintain its shine especially after the waves of LPG but still it attract lakhs who ferociously compete for a handful of seats. People predict its doom yet surveys rate it as the most preferred choice of youngsters.

In order to understand why all this happens let us make a balance sheet, outlining its pros and cons. Keeping the pros for the later part, the bad news first.

The foremost disadvantage of civil services is the low salary salary, both in absolute and relative terms. A civil servant may be drawing one fourth salary compared to his peers in the private sector. It may be difficult for an honest civil servant to send his/her kids in a public school, buy a car in the initial years, spend holidays abroad or construct a home. After some years of idealism, reality sets in and then the lack of money pinches hard.

Another thing is the cadre than can be allotted. Suppose one worked hard, invested years, resources; got selected and then got a ‘bad cadre’. There are cadres which may be thousands miles away from his/her home, where a parallel government is running and due to lack of manpower a civil servant will have to work at all levels of hierarchy. Remember, this shall be his/her cadre for life.

Now about tenures, 90% IAS officers spend less than a year on any post. They are shuffled like cards at the slightest of whims of the politicians. This is also an instrument of ‘disciplining’ the civil servants. A DM who is looking after a population of half a crore may be shunted to Archives department having not even an office; and the person may not even know the reason for same.

Then there is the issue of utility of merit. Everyone wants his good work to be appreciated. But Government is like lord Shiva; jo kare uska bhi bhala, jo na kare uska bhi bhala. So irrespective of whether you work or not, system will throw you up.

Adding to all this, a person has to invest a lot to clear the exam. It is highly unpredictable exam with a degree of arbitrariness. A person will never get selected without studying, but even if you study, chances are that you may fail. What is left for a failed thirty year old guy who has wasted four five years in the preparations.

Last but not the least, the powers of civil servants are declining. The commanding heights of the economy are now in the hands of private sector. Bureaucrats no longer enjoy the glory of License Permit Raj. So what shall be the future of services? Will they only a weak image of their former self in the coming times? Is it really worth it to enter the bureaucracy.

Picture is gloomy. But there is a brighter side too, and aspects that make civil services what it is.

It is a career of diversity. Once a CA was asked why he entered IAS when he could have worked for any major company. His answer was he could have worked for ICICI, then could have moved to Deutche Bank, then perhaps to World Bank at much higher pay scales. But till he retires, he would be doing the same work. What if the challenge left in such a job? In civil services every day and every post is a new challenge and a new learning opportunity.

And love it or hate it, stability in civil services is a big plus point. Let me take my own example. I wanted to live life on my own terms, do what I want to do and not because it will increase my ‘market value’. I want to be relaxed from any undue pressure of continuously competing throughout my life in the rat race. I now have an assured career. Competition is good but its excess may take a heavy toll on life.

Any post in civil services may be of much greater value than in private sector. Only a handful may rise to become a CEO in private sector but nearly all IAS will manage a public sector unit in their thirties. In terms of importance of work too, civil services score fairly well. A person may sell the sixth brand of toothpaste much more than his fourth brand, but the satisfaction he gets may not compete with that of a civil servant who has successfully managed relief work during a cyclone.

Another intangible but still a very important thing is the social respect a civil servant commands. In India this may not be matched by any other service. I do not know what future in services have in store for me. But whenever my parents tell anyone that their son is an IAS, they have a glow in their eyes. Leaving other things apart, this alone is a reason sufficient for me to choose civil services as a career.

And then the biggest thing, here one can really work for the people. Most civil servants, at least when they come in service, have the passion of creating a difference; and many succeed in doing that. I once heard an election commissioner who ensured free and fair UP elections. There was a village which had never voted before because of terror of dominant groups and when he ensured that they fearlessly vote in elections, he got all the satisfaction of his life. Hearing him, I realized I had made a right choice.

Anyways emotions apart, both pros and cons are pretty strong. Before deciding to enter civil services, one should be very clear in his/her mind what is he/she going to get. The reality may be pretty different from the perceptions. For seeing more, have a look at this .

It’s a path that demands big sacrifices; and has its own way of giving rewards too!

PS: My Bharat Darshan starts on 8th Dec and will last till mid Feb. So I will be almost offline during the period and my blog may hibernate. But, I will be back :)

In Which I Played the Host

2007-11-24T22:33:00.001+05:30

Education teaches you many laws of life and one is the great Murphy’s law; if a thing can go wrong, it certainly will. So in the penultimate week at LBSNAA, the thing dreaded by officer trainees happened to me. I was made the escort officer of a visiting guest faculty.

To brief you a little about that, most of the lectures at LBSNAA are taken by specialist guest faculties who come from all over. One (unfortunate) officer trainee is made his escort officer who has to be his ‘direct host’ for his entire stay.

Apart from general duties of an escort like entertaining the kids of the guest and arranging the flavor of ice cream liked by his wife, a specific one is introduce him to the students and ensure that his lecture goes well. Introduction is a euphemism for eulogizing the guest, and going to the extent of proving that he is the most talented man born on the earth.

As a responsible man, I decided to take the challenge head on. The biggest hurdle for me was to save my guest from apathetic (read hostile) audience in an auditorium that has more than three hundred (yawning, sleeping, murmuring) students, and a challenge greater than that was to give a good impression of the academy to the guest after all this.

All this did not stop there. My guest was a young professor, enthusiastic about his field and was on his first visit to the academy. This meant that he had high hopes from the academic brilliance of civil servants and a desire to have an intellectual discussion with them.

The guest was friendly and during our informal chat before the lecture, I quietly mentioned the hectic schedule of the academy, hard physical training that we had to undergo and general lack of sleep amongst the officer trainees. With a smile I mentioned that he should not be surprised in he finds ‘some’ ( a gross misrepresentation) students sleeping.

The lecture began. Slowly ‘some’ started growing and soon I could hear soft snoring sounds. Before things grew out of hand, I requested my guest to allow switching off some lights so that his presentation becomes visible to the students sitting at the back. This proved fairly successful and after that there was no major issue. People anonymously slept and my guest went on.

When the lecture got finished, my guest invited questions. That is the rarest thing to get from a sleeping, uninterested audience but I had anticipated this. On promise of a treat, some of friends had agreed to ask questions. The guest was fairly happy by the level of their intellect and the interest his lecture had generated.

I gave a brief thanks speech and the session ended. I could not have asked for more. The mission was complete. As a courtesy, I requested my guest to join us for lunch.

I sat on a table having already two officer trainees.

“Sir this is Vaneet, and he is Venkat” : I said
“ Hello Vaneet, hello Venkat” : my guest was very courteous to them

Hellos got exchanged and then it all started. Venkat who was sitting quiet till now started talking.

“AS, is he your friend?”: I prayed that he shuts up his mouth soon.

“Is he your relative?” He enquired again.

I was completely taken aback but my guest replied “I was the one who took your two hour lecture in the morning”. I had nothing much to say.

After that I deliberately avoided discussing interest of officer trainees in lectures. My guest was a nice human being and as far as I know, he carried a 'almost' good impression of the academy.

Moral of the story is Murpy's law is indeed true.

PS: As in all other posts, this one too has a good content of my imagination. So please do not consider it to be literally true.

And she still smiles

2007-11-19T21:46:00.000+05:30

He met Aarti for the first time during trek, both of them somehow forced into trekking. She was a simple, soft spoken girl who had only few friends. The thing that brought them close as friends was that they were partners in misery. I will tell you what their misery was.

They had never imagined that there are places with absolutely no communication with the outside world. But when they marched a little on their trek, they realized that they were completely cut off. The only thing left for them was to wait.

So they became friends in such a situation. He could never know whether she really liked him or it was just lack of other familiar faces but he became her confidante. They talked a lot, tried to keep each other happy and distracted from the fact that they were missing someone. While sharing their lives, he had come to know that Aarti was into a relationship.

The boy was from the same college and they had known each other for quite sometime. Initially they worked together in a firm and then both decided to enter the civil services. She succeeded but he failed.

There were other complications too. When Aarti told her parents about this, they were completely against it. The emotional blackmailing began and she was given the option of choosing either of them.

He discussed with Aarti for hours what she will do then and how they can still get their way. As an interested audience, he also discussed how they fell in love, how their relation was and how restless the boy must be now when she could not talk to him. In a weak moment, she confessed that she could not imagine her life without him.

He prayed for them and sincerely wished that their relation has a happy ending. Days passed and their trek became over. Their ‘Trek Friendship’ did not continue with the same enthusiasm and they went back to their original friends.

After nearly a month, he decided meet Aarti again. The truth was he missed a friend with whom he could share his life. He called her for a cup of coffee. She agreed but somehow he did not sense the same enthusiasm in her. They met and he eagerly told her everything that had happened in his life in last one month. And after that, she began.

She said that her relationship was over. Now she felt that theirs was an unequal relation which was destined to fail. When she herself had such doubts, she could not sacrifice the happiness of her parents. She gave a kind of philosophical talk. Among the vague words he could listen, there were that about how with time, many things change and people get mature.

He was completely lost and the only thing he remembered was that her face did not show even slight signs of strain while saying this.

She may be right, she may be wrong, but he only knew a girl who was madly in love. He thought about that boy, whose image he had formed after hearing so much about him and tried to feel his pain. That day he realized he was friends not with her, but with her relationship, and now when that was gone, he had one friend less.

After that whenever he saw her smiling, he wondered how just some time ago it was impossible for her to live without that boy!

All (Good) Things Come to an End

2007-11-09T08:22:00.001+05:30

So what is coming to an end? My foundation course (FC) at LBSNAA.

The truth is even if I crib, I enjoyed it and FC became a part of my life. I will miss seeing 300 faces, getting up at 5 AM, working late till night, enjoying the batch gossips and making new friends. I do not know what the reason of my nostalgia is when there are still 20 days to go. Perhaps if on a Deepawali morning, you are alone and you know that in coming days this loneliness will increase, you can only feel sad.

Today I will tell you the heights of the FC. If you have been a regular reader of my blog, you may know about many of them. But I have never written a comprehensive blog devoted exclusively to entire LBSNAA activities, so here it is.

TREK: It all begins with the trek, a nine day affair, when you are left on mountains in a group of around twenty. It is a nerve testing experience. There you discover and rediscover your limits, make some really good friends or rather ever lasting relationship and see the difficult side of life. Mountains reveal many truths and make you humble; one realizes that his life, egos, ambitions etc are too small in this game of nature.

VILLAGE VISIT: The first place where you are treated as an officer; where you get to know what real India is. In a group of around six, we are sent to distant backward villages. Probationers live in the village itself and there they discover that rays of India’s shining are yet to reach many places. They realize that task ahead for a civil servant is really demanding; but yes if they work with empathy, they can make a difference.

FETE: In a team of nearly ten, we manage a shop, just like the school kids do in school fete. The shop that earns the maximum profit becomes the winner. There is this jail where you can send anyone by paying a token money, there is that music on demand, there are usual pani puris, fancy dresses and what not. And this time we also got the real Bond, Ruskin Bond. Welcome back to the school days.

INDIA DAY: The batch is divided into four zones, region wise. Each zone presents its culture, its cuisines, its dances for an entire day. Everyone gets dressed in his traditional attire. That is the time when you know how much you have missed by not learning classical music, by not knowing any dance form etc. And that is also the time one discovers why India has unity in diversity.

There are many other things a FC too. There are cultural nights by professionals. You listen to the classical Ghazals and realize that they are beautiful; you see your first Odissi performance and cannot help appreciating the dance. There are also regular physical exercises and I am told this becomes a habit and reason of good health of many civil servants.

To avoid giving you a skewed picture, the highs of the FC are evenly balanced by over demanding discipline, lullabying lectures, loaded academics, occasional show cause notices, memos, castigations etc.

But everyone tells me, FC remains the best (or the most nostalgic) part of a civil servant’s career.

To end it on a positive note, see the most popular joke here.

There is a queue of dead people and god is sending them to heaven and hell by seeing their life records. An officer trainee from LBSNAA comes there is his suit, tie, and lapel card etc. The god without even seeing any of his records sends him to heaven. People protest. They shout how only being from the academy qualifies him for heaven.

God replies: But he has already been through hell at LBSNAA!

Reality Bytes: India Revisited

2007-11-01T08:14:00.000+05:30

What is your caste?

Within minutes of landing in the village, I faced this question and I was almost shocked. This was my first interaction with real India. So I am back from my village tour, somewhat wiser about India, little more curious about Bharat.

The village we went to was Mehandwas, in Tonk district of Rajasthan. In a way it was somewhat a developed village. It was on the national highway, so definite signs of development were present. There was eight hour electricity supply, a primary health center, four schools, many motor cycles and innumerable mobiles present in the village.

We received a royal welcome there. In fact their hospitability touched our hearts. Everyone wanted to meet us. I do not know if they trusted us but they liked that someone from government was hearing their woes. There was that old lady who took us to her house to show how bad road to her house was. Then there was that SC sarpanch who was so happy because we ate at his house against the wishes of elites of the village.

You must have guessed by now that caste was the most dominant factor in the village. And I found the caste system exactly in the way I felt was extinct in India. The village habitations were divided in caste clusters, one of Yadavas, one of Brahmins, another of Bairavas etc. And if you feel that this is it, you are mistaken.

Untouchables lived outside the village and they were treated different from schedule castes. In fact schedule castes treated themselves to be much higher than untouchables. The untouchable still had to go to the city for haircut as the village barber refused to touch them. In roadside hotels they were served tea in disposable cups!

A heartening thing to discover was that there was complete communal harmony in the village. There was no history of any communal clash. The authorities said that this is the case in nearly all villages in India. This is a big thing that urban India has to learn from its villages.

Now being a government servant, I should also talk about the government schemes. There was a great enthusiasm for National Rural Employment Guarantee Scheme (NREGS). In fact that has made Panchayats all the more meaningful. The second scheme doing wonders is Sarva Shiksha Abhiyan. Now a lot of money is being pumped in mid day meal, school infrastructure and that is showing. In case you have no idea, 65000 teachers have been recruited in Rajasthan alone in last one year!

So what did we do? We tried to convince the villages that they have to be an agent in their developments. Other people can come and help them but they ultimately have to be the primary drivers. People looked to panchayat and government even for simple things. And you know what; most of the villagers were convinced.

If you want to know our concrete achievement, a lady member of our group shook the entire district administration to get a Below Poverty Line card of a widow made. Then there was this overseeing committee for education of panchayat which was meant to check teachers absenteeism, quality of educations etc. We tried to give a new birth to it as most villages complained about the quality of education in schools.

I do not say that we changed the face of that village; neither have we learned a lot. But yes, we felt that being in our jobs; we can really make difference. And trust me, even the feeling of getting just 1 BPL card made for a deserving widow is beyond words!

PS: I will write in detail about this and what I feel can be done about village development. I also have to tell what was my score in perceptions about village in last post. But in many devious ways, LBSNAA is keeping me too busy these days.

Off to Bharat

2007-10-20T09:12:00.000+05:30

My next blog shall come after ten days. The reason is that we are going to see the real India, that is its villages. I shall be going to a village in Tonk district, Rajasthan.

It is not that I have never seen a village. My grandparents lived in a village and I used to go there every year. But this time it shall be different. We will try to understand functioning of development programs, caste dynamics, delivery of services etc.

Before going there I wish to put what I expect a village to be like. It would be fun to see after coming back if all this is true.

1. The caste will be a dominant factor in village.
2. Since the village is in Rajasthan, there will be problem of water.
3. Women will be in Purdah and more backward than males.
4. The school teacher must not be coming regularly.
5. The actual functioning and statistics on paper of development programs will be different.

Well these are only my naive perceptions. I will be happy if the village has mobile signals. Not because my mobile will be functioning, but that shall be a sign of perculation of development. Anyways I have to rush now.

Wait for the details of ‘Bharat’ till I come back

The Tip

2007-10-16T20:02:00.000+05:30

The noises were too loud to be ignored. Though he had slept hardly for an hour, Raju could no longer continue his sleep. His landlord had come again, demanding the rent. This was becoming the routine from last seven months, when his father passed away. He was frustrated by the naggings of his landlord, milkman and the person who had given them a small debt.

His father was a taxi driver, and when he was alive they had a comfortable life. If you are thinking what comforts a driver can give, you come from a different piece of land. Isn’t having an assured meal without any worries a big comfort. No one knew it better than Raju.

But one accident changed his life. His father died on the spot and his family was given one thousand rupees in all to forget about the case. Raju whose life till now revolved around cards and friends became the sole bread earner of the family.

He adapted well with the change. Raju’s father had taught him driving long ago, after seeing his disasters in studies. So Raju got a job as a driver, by the 'generosity' of his father’s employer, albeit at half the salary. He worked really hard and no one could have imagined Raju like this when his father was alive.

Now he had to save money, save the family from continuous naggings of everyone and also put together some money for his sister who was already fourteen. Adding to this, even the health of his mother was deteriorating.

So Raju was saving in all the ways he could. He ate with half the money that his employer gave him, stopped having his ‘pan masala’ and took any additional job that came in the way.

One day he was sent to get a carwash. There was a carwash market, which had tens of shops bustling with activity. The fixed rate was forty rupees and that was what his master gave him. But Raju decided to bargain. He tried in many shops, hassled with shopkeepers, argued with them and then found one who agreed to do it in thirty. That shall enable him to save complete ten rupees.

This was going to be the way in which all his dreams will get fulfilled. Why is it not possible that he will own a fleet of taxis on day? Even if a fleet is not there, he may be able to drive his own taxi. His father always said that fortunes are built by meager savings.

Lost in his dreams, he was watching the ten year old boy washing the car. Thin as a kite, the boy had to apply all his strength to remove the car stains. He was wearing torn clothes and a big talisman on his arm. He must have been from the fleet of young boys who came to the cities from villages to get some work. There must be a family back home that was waiting for the wages of this boy.

When the work was done, Raju came and sat in his car, his dreams somewhat disturbed. He started the car but then he noticed the hollows around the eyes of this young boy. He could not move on.

He called the boy and gave him ten rupees tip.

PS: This story is almost based on a real incident. Humanity keeps on amazing me!

News for you all, my raft got toppled while River rafting. I drank at least 2 lts of Ganges water, had many up and downs in river rapids and was finally rescued after three minutes which seemed like a lifetime. Now I think I should put adventure sports to the backseat for sometime.

Snippets

2007-10-11T19:06:00.000+05:30

I cannot resist this anymore, so here is this blog.

There are things that I want to share but they will not fit into anything specific. Why always look for order when chaos can be equally beautiful. So I decided to dedicate one blog to my unspecific, yet according to me interesting thoughts.

The first thing is about Catch-22. Not exactly the novel, but the phrase. Look around and nearly all the time we are in Catch-22 situations. I will give you examples.

One of my close friends said that each one in our friend circle is simple and good at heart. So they will be perfect for their girlfriends. But since all of us are simple and good at heart; almost no one has a girlfriend. A perfect Catch-22 situation.

Another one is about the LBS academy. The faculty here wants us to be frank and open in discussions. But they also want our behavior to be officer like. So anything that is ‘frank and open’ can be dubbed as unofficerlike and vice versa. I bet bureaucracy will have maximum Catch-22 situations.

Now I want to share something else. I know I look ‘almost’ alright or I like to believe this. The truth is I do not see mirror quite often. But when I have to get my haircut, I am made to stare in the mirror for complete 15 minutes. I keep on saying to myself ‘Gosh! you are not good’. The image in the mirror looks to be a stranger and those 15 minutes look like a lifetime.

I feel like this ghazal ‘Mere desh me, mere bhes me, koi aur tha, koi aur hai’ (In my land, in my dress up, there was someone else, there is someone else).

And to end this something that amazed me, a sort of discourse on God. Let us assume that God exists and since he is God he is omnipotent. As he is omnipotent, he should be able to do everything in this world.

Now can he create a stone which he cannot lift? If no, then he is not omnipotent hence not God. If yes, then since he cannot lift the stone he is not omnipotent hence not God. Well no conclusions from my side……..

In case you now want a statement from me now about my religious beliefs, I am somewhat between an agnostic and a theist.

PS: The ‘adventure’ at LBSNAA continues. After having rock climbing this weekend, we are going for River rafting and Para-sailing on the coming sat-sun, though I reserve my take on my interest in adventure :)

Prisoners of the Past

2007-10-05T08:04:00.000+05:30

She had really loved Abhay. It was just a three week affair. They had met in a party and things clicked as they normally do in fairy tales. He was the perfect sort of guy she had imagined. When a lifetime also turns out to be less to know a person, they decided that there is no reason why they should not get married.

That was the beginning of problems . Her parents were against it, his parents were against it, adding to it even Abhay looked indecisive. When she got an accusing call from Abhay’s parents, having all that stuff about fooling their son; and he was still not ready to come in her support, she called it quit.

Never again, she would do such a thing to herself; she would never fall in love; it was a promise she made to herself. She decided to spend all her time in work, so as to forget the past, so as to forget herself. Being a workaholic was fun. Somehow she loved lines of a song ‘Ye Shehar Bhoola Mujhe, main bhi ise bhool gaya.’

While working she was assigned a project with another colleague of her, Dhruva. He was a different kind of person. By different she meant the kinds whose heart remain pure and unadulterated by this world. He was….what she should say….simple. The beauty of simplicity can be appreciated only if you find one.

She liked talking with him. He never asked probing questions, he never gave suggestions. She could just be herself with him. Things started turning out good. She started sharing all her thoughts with him, even the darkest corners of her mind about Abhay. She was scared of that, but Dhruva surprisingly made it all easier for her. He made her believe all that happened was none of her fault.

They liked spending time together. She tried everything she wanted to do, but had never done. One day they drank together. After that they chatted, laughed, cried, watched stars and were awake till dawn. That day she sat calmly, feeling a sense of serenity she missed for years, keeping her head on his shoulders.

Next day, for some reason she was confused. Something inside her was seeking answers. She explained to herself, Dhruva was just a friend, he would never have those feelings for her.

That day again Abhay called. Though it was just a friendly call, he did not forget to mention his plans of marriage and how good his fiancé was. In a way he blamed her for everything that went wrong. She did not say anything to him, just tried to be composed.

But after an hour it became unbearable. She was no longer able to remain alone. She wanted to scream, to smash her head on the wall. Then she called Dhruva. When he was there, she did not say anything to him. She just said I want to hug you. She hugged him and remained like that for more than an hour. No, not a word was whispered. They just went out on a long drive that day.

After that, it became difficult for her to remain without meeting Dhruva for a day. They were together most of the time. Yes, she repeated to herself he was just a friend, he must never have thought anything about her.

And then it happened. Dhruva’s eyes were saying something from many days which she chose to ignore, or never wanted to believe. But one day when she asked him, his reply was simple. He smiled and said; I love you.

But, she did not accept, she did not refuse. She was angry that he did this when he knew that she wanted never to fall in love again. She was happy because she never thought that she was worth him. But then she did not want things to change.

After that day she did not ask him anything again, she dared not to. She just pretended that nothing has happened and things continued.

As far as I know, the status is still the same.

PS: Please do tell me what you think will happen in future. And do I need to tell that I was nowhere involved in this story :)

A Journey worth Lifetime

2007-10-01T16:09:00.000+05:30

The weather was bad from some days. But we had to start at 6 in the morning. The previous night was cold, and if you slept in a tent in your sleeping bags, you can actually feel how painful cold can be.

After walking for an hour, heavy rains came. The wind made sure that none of us could escape being wet or having a taste of the low temperature that may have been just above zero. When you are in such a situation and the destination is still ten hours away you realize what difficulties in life can be.

It was tough and we walked for ten hours in continuous rains in a steep uphill terrain. That day we realized that human endurance is much more than we believe it to be and one has to go out of his comfort zones to discover his limits. It’s the mental strength that matters more than physical.

So friends I am back from the trek, again alive and well, albeit 2 Kg. less and somewhat darker by sunburns. How do I describe my trek; …………well I can find no words for it. Let me take help of pictures.

In a village midway

Inside the Tent

Just a pose

Trying hands at meditation

We walked for nearly 140 Km in 7 days. Everyday the team started early in the morning and kept walking for entire day. It was demanding, it was tiring but yes it was enjoyable. Many things happened for the first time in my life. I saw ice on mountains and I felt the chilling water of stream coming direct from glacier. For the first time in my life, I was above a rainbow.

A Rainbow below us

Crossed many streams like this

Swargarohini Peak

The valleys we walked in

The entire team

Landslide area

And what did we learn during trek. That nothing should be taken for granted in life, even bathrooms, in literal sense. I made many records and one was how to keep going without taking a bath for 4 days in a row, actually there was no option to.

For nine days, we craved for good food, electricity, beds, and leave mobile phones we craved for just one PCO to send message back home. But we enjoyed a lot too. The first night began with cards and a game of bluff. It gave way to ghost stories and plank chit, the effect of which was intense courtesy the lone forest guest house in a dense jungle. After that we had rounds of palmistry. In the end it went on to match making and ensuring that all team members get a bride or groom.

You tend to become philosophical in difficulties. Trek looked very promising in the beginning but it was full of obstacles. The same is with life. We are enthusiastic when we begin but during the journey, life becomes difficult and far from the dreams. But when you look back with hindsight, you say both look good.

I realized once again that I loved my family, I loved my friends. I missed making just one call to them to say that I am well, to hear the same from them.

So the experience cannot be termed being good or bad,its beyond words. I have more memories of last nine days than I have of last nine months. I enjoyed it but if you ask if I want to go for it again, my reply is no, at least for now. It was a kind of experience that one may want only once.

To put in simpler terms, it was a journey worth lifetime.

Faces after nine days of trek

The Everlasting Enigma

2007-09-13T22:05:00.001+05:30

Life has become different. But I am not going to tell you that.

I have been criticized that civil service is taking over AS and I will soon get an identity crisis. As this comment is from someone who knows me better than myself, I think I should write something else.

So today, I will tell you a family fable, one that has been a longtime favorite of my mom. It has been recited by her every time my childhood is mentioned. I remember this incident more by her narrations, than in my real memory.

It happened when I was in class second. There was this girl who sat next to me. We were friends and we played a lot together. I remember two things about her, one that her name was written on her Tiffin box and second that she could pinch really hard. So we had a lot of fun those days; leaving the times she pinched me.

Once while playing a stupid game, she mentioned that she liked bangles. After that when I went to the market with my mom, I insisted that I have to buy bangles. Though somewhat confused, my mom agreed as she was used to my weird demands. I bought golden bangles, the one with stars on it.

Next day I went happily to school and gifted them to her. She was happy too and entire day we played with those golden bangles. But there had to come a twist.

After one day, she came back and returned me those bangles. She said with a flat face that her mom has asked her to return those. I do not remember if I was embarrassed to take them back, though I get embarassed everytime my mom recites this story.

In retrospect, I feel that was this was the beginning of my 'mis' encounters with the fairer sex. It has been an unending enigma. But whenever a girl throws a surprise at me, I can feel the tinge of taking those bangles back.

PS: Since you are reading this, I assume that you are a regular reader of my blog :). So I should tell you that that I am going on a long trek this time, courtesy LBSNAA and my next blog will come nearly after a fortnight. And yes, cadres have come and mine is West Bengal.

We Will Make a Difference

2007-09-07T23:41:00.000+05:30

Ravi had done his B.Tech from IIT Kharagpur. He had topped in all his classes and now he had the option of going abroad or taking a job with a fat pay package. But then he had other plans. He was fascinated by freedom fighters. He dreamt of Gandhi calling for Dandi march, Bhagat Singh leading the revolutionaries and Nehru promising life and freedom for India at independence. Like them, he also wanted to do something for his country. He chose to be a civil servant.

Dharma belonged to a backward community. He was poor and had suffered caste discrimination throughout his childhood. But he refused to submit. He wanted this to change, not only for himself, not only for his village but for the entire nation. For this he saw a clear path, civil services.

Shirin was a physically challenged girl. Most of her life she had heard sympathetic talks. But she wanted dignity, and she also wanted the society to change its perception about her. She wanted to prove that she was equally capable and can contribute equally in the development of nation. She cracked the civil services.

All these are imaginary names. But there are many Ravi’s, Dharma’s and Shirin’s in the 81st foundation course at LBSNAA, Mussorie. About 300 probationers have gathered in the academy here from all over India. They belong to different regions, religions, castes, sects etc. They have different educational backgrounds and different exposures. They have many other stories too. But they have one common dream, to work for India.

Many wonder that why lakhs are attracted for this job which offers the toughest competition in the world and still offers a meager salary compared to the private sector. In the era of globalization many people thought civil services will lose its sheen. They gave it derogatory names like Babudom, or the big fat clerks whose only aim is to put red tapes. But to their utter surprise, a recent survey rated civil service to be the most coveted job in the country. It still attracts the youth who want to work directly for the country.

And no one can agree to it more than we probationers at the institute. All of us suffered the shortage of electricity, bad roads and inadequate infrastructure. We stood in queues in government departments and at times felt harassed by the slow system. But then, instead of cribbing about it, we decided to change it. We believed in what Kennedy said “Ask not what your country has done for you - ask what you can do for your country”. And we chose to do our bit by becoming civil servants.

We, in the 81st foundation course believe that we are the steel frame of India. We agree that civil services need a lot of changes. It has to be lean and thin, responsive, corruption free, efficient and effective. It has to deliver to the common man. But we also believe that it has the most important role in the emergence of developed India.

In the first issue of our journal, we take a pledge that we will make a difference. Things will change in India and we will transform the image of the Government. We do not predict a revolution but we will devote our lives in making our motherland a developed nation. That is a solemn promise of all Ravi, Dharma, Shirin and others like them present in the 81st foundation course.

PS: This is an article sent by me for LBSNAA magazine. The benefit of a blog is that even if it is not published in the magazine, I can have the solace of getting readers for this in my blog :)

These days

2007-09-02T15:58:00.000+05:30

Finally today is Sunday. Never before I realized in my life how precious Sunday is. As the state of my mind is filled with mundane things at LBSNAA, I can write only about it :)

The major happenings were the trek, dying of election fever, memos, return of my 'lonely' attitude and ‘murmerings’ of couple formation.

Yesterday we again went for a trek to a place called Lal Tibba. We walked for nearly 20 Km on tough terrains and believe me, some of it was really dangerous. We were briefed a lot about two things, one a scorpion grass and second leeches.

Though the scorpion grass made us feel its presence, we really missed leeches. I feel that poor leeches were given such a bad name that they decided to boycott our trek. Dear leech, please forgive my instructor for painting you in such a derogatory manner.

We also had a Bharat Natyam program, and remember the attendance was compulsory there. So all went there, willingly or unwillingly. Add on to it that you have to watch it on a friday evening when you woke up at 5 in the morning and have been busy since then. Though it was not very good, but I enjoyed it.

The thing I disliked about some officer trainees was their ‘comments’ during the program. An artist must be respected. Somehow I feel they have not got over their ‘Boys will be boys’ mentality. The thing that pains me more is the general acceptance of it.

And yes, at times I have started feeling alone. It is strange that this feeling hits me more when I am in a crowd. Though it is nothing uncommon with me, but I somehow felt I will not be myself in Mussorie.

Now about those ‘murmerings’. Though in nascent stages, the signs are visible during treks. There are 'some' lucky ones, with girls and then there are many others, who are keeping records of the signs. The real game will begin once the cadres come. I think many are getting geared up for it. After all ‘Cadre Marriages’ is the only rescue of candidates sent to north east.

In case you have any doubts, on a Sunday evening, I am sitting in my room, analyzing signs of others and writing blogs, so you know on which side of fence I am.

The Hullabaloo at LBSNAA

2007-08-28T17:04:00.000+05:30

If you think civil servants are civil, think again. That certainly was not true in first week at the academy. Along with our hectic first week, we also had our elections, and elections we had.

The thing started with vying for a cream post, that’s called President, Mess Committee (PMC). I do not know if it really is a great post or the candidates were attracted by the promise that PMC may be able to escort all dignitaries who come at LBS; but many people started coming in the forefront.

And the person who tells you that it’s the participation that matters must have lost the game. So the contestants (for all posts, not only PMC) started leaving no stones unturned in ensuring their victory.

No stone unturned is a euphemism for starting all kinds of lobbying. This candidate is from north, this from Maharashtra, that one is Telugu and so on. The only thing they forgot was just a day before they had taken the oath of serving the country without having biases of caste, religion, region etc.

So, first there was order. I mean there were few candidates and they tried to have a consensus who should contest; then more arrived with their aspirations. The order turned into a chaos. And then people started lobbying.

But in this hard game, the poor voter was pulled from various lobbies. When many candidates bugged him with their manifestos and promises, he decided to do what was right. That is to vote on his own, not on being a part of a lobby. I do not claim that the candidates who won were the best. But then I can see that most attempts of lobbying failed, ‘mostly’ for all the posts.

That’s the power of democracy. It can create order out of chaos. It has the power to take care of aberrations. When the voters are pulled by various factions, they decide to do what they think is right. I ‘hope’ what they did here was right.

If our PMC is reading this, ensure that our mess bill comes down, as you are projected as the right candidate :P (Just to tell my readers, we give more than one third of our meagre salary as mess expenses)

PS: Like all my views, this article is colored by my perspective, so I do not claim this to be the truth. And yes, forgot to tell you, I won for a small post too :)

Alive and Kicking

2007-08-25T23:42:00.000+05:30

I am back. If you were worried about me, I am alive(almost) and kicking(not literally). I reached LBS academy on 17th and since then I have entered the process of becoming a 'civil serant'. I know I have to tell you a lot but now I can claim to be busy, so forgive me for this unorganised blog.

Before I tell you more, I cannot get over this urge of posting this picture of me and some of my friends(Dont forget telling that I look good, else you need to see an eye specialist).

So the academy is trying to make us civil. For that they have hanged a tie permanently to our neck. For making us servants, they are trying to keep us busy from dusk to dawn. Apart from these, I have some other things to tell you too.

1. Mussorie is too good a place to be ( especially if you have lived in a place like Kanpur); so dont wait until your honeymoon to come here.

2. The LBS Academy is 'almost' nice, I mean the facilities here are excellent. But then we are facing a kind of shock treatment. Keep reading my blogs for further details.

3. I get up at 5 AM everyday for doing exercises, yes you read it right, EVERYDAY and mostly my schedule continues till 8 PM.

4. I have TV in my room, so now you know that government is not so poor.

5. I also have a Laptop in my room. So what, I have to share it with my roommate ( I capture it most of the time.)

6. The lectures are as boring as they can be anywhere in the world, and you know what; one can get a memo for sleeping in the class.

7. I have tried here to venture into arena of politics, or to put it in other words, I am fighting an election for some vague post. Though most of it is irrelevant but I am enjoying this.

8. And yes, it is turning out very hard to connect with 'real' persons after being in 'virtual' contact with them. I mean those with whom I was in contact through internet.

So these are the major things happening in my life. My blog may become less frequent now (blame it on my training and trainers), but I will try to keep it updated and let you know about the (mis)incidences of my life.

And yes, keep coming back, I am still blogging.

See below how Mussorie looks.

Dear Diary

2007-08-12T22:25:00.000+05:30

Yesterday I went for dinner to an old acquaintance, my mom’s colleague. She praised me and praised me and praised me more. I mean I like flattery but she made me feel embarrassed. And what kind of praises, that I was so cute and so childlike. The problem I feel is that they imagine a fat, old IAS officer. Then they try to fit me in that image. After failing in that exercise, they call me cute!

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Now I will add another thing about the dinners. Why people do not bring all the items simultaneously. They serve chapattis and then they bring rice. After that they will give sweets and then bring ice-cream. Please, if you invite me for dinner, put everything on the table at the same time. By that I shall be able to manage what all I want to eat. Also I am not at all shy, so do not take extra care in serving me (a euphemism for force feeding me.)

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Got sick today, I think it is viral fever. The thing I hate most is that I am feeling cold and at same time I am sweating. Now neither can I turn on the fan completely, sit in front of cooler or take a bath, nor can I wrap a blanket and sleep comfortably. It is irritating me all the time.

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I am going to leave my home after three days. I am OK with it but still there is a tinge of sadness. When I got ill today, mom actually had my ‘Nazar Utarai’. I hope you know what ‘Nazar Utarna’ is. I do not believe in all this but I was touched. To her I will always remain a three year old kid, who can become ill by the evil eyes of the world.

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My packing has not yet started. Somehow I have managed to complete the shopping but the packaging has not begun. I am really worried how I will be able to find out the things in Mussorie once I need them. Search for socks or tie becomes a full fledged excavation of the suitcase. Also another problem is that I can wrap trousers but still wrapping a shirt is difficult. I need a crash course from my mom. And how shall I wrap suites?

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I am a little scared, little skeptical and little jubilant. A new chapter of my life is going to begin soon. I will join on 18th and then I will formally become an IAS. Well, this will be a career for lifetime. Right now I am having butterflies in my stomach.

The Good Teacher

2007-08-09T21:32:00.000+05:30

Finally I could learn driving. The details of that are not worth mentioning. They were only because of a bad teacher. I believe if the teacher is good, it can be a cakewalk. So when I had this long break at home, I decided to teach driving to mom myself. Yes, I believe I am a good teacher, any problems with that?

Now till today she has completed ten days of her learning. Can you believe it that she can drive now. OK, I agree that certain conditions apply though. The road has to be empty with no turns. Also, she refuses to go above the speed twenty. But my point is that she can drive. She can also press clutch, brake and accelerator without looking down…. ok without looking down mostly. That is what a good teacher can do to you.

Another proof of my being good at teaching is that in last ten days I have saved lives of five dogs, one cow, and two men. A good teacher is actually always alert. See, I will tell you a real life scenario. When I see someone at a considerable distance, I start saying

“Mom press the brake…....(Gently)
Mom press the brake......... (Just a little louder)
MOM PRESS THE BRAKE.” (Volume not worth mentioning)

She panics. I pull the handbrakes. See simple. Was that dangerous in any way? She has nearly perfected in using clutch and accelerator, only 'some' problem is left with the brake.

Now consider this one

“Mom, take the next turn............................(Gently)
Mom, start turning the steering now......... (Just a little louder)
Ok, no problem, we can take the next turn.” (Gently again)

So you see I am a patient teacher. Many times on a slope, she stops. Now if she presses the accelerator, she has to leave the brake. But then car starts moving back. She then absolutely refuses to leave the brakes. Well, this is when the advantage of an empty road comes in picture. I give her complete time to deal with it herself….mostly.

I tell you, when you are teaching the driving to someone, you have to tackle many things. For example, the angry glance of the cyclist who has been giving side from last fifteen minutes, or the pedestrian who is forced to move at the extreme corner, as my mom prefers to remain at side of the road.

But there are some real hindrances for which she is not to be blamed. Their culprit is Bollywood movies. I never understand why heroes always keep oscillating their steering, mostly while singing songs. Now, I have to remind her every time that she can actually drive straight without oscillating the steering.

I am still trying to convince her to come on busy roads, but I do not insist. I hope you know the reason why. In my city, where people overtake from both sides, and there are no traffic rules it’s hard to drive. If she can drive here, she can drive in any place of the world. It is a real learning process for me, to teach something to my mom, I am learning to be patient. At a slight sign of disappointment at my face, she completely refuses to learn.

But guess what, she does not read my blogs :)

PS: I know mom, the patience you have shown in teaching me everything in life was much greater than all this. I will always try to emulate that.

The Date

2007-08-06T21:38:00.000+05:30

That was the beginning of it.

He was new in the class, and she was already having her gang. To put it mildly she was different. No, not of stunningly beautiful kinds. Her laughter could be heard from half a kilometer, and one could count all her teeth when she just smiled. She at first looked to be a ‘don’ to him. That was the image that first attracted him, his complete antithesis.

Just a month had passed and they could feel a special bond. She was still always surrounded by her numerous friends and he was always trying to get her some time; alone. It was really difficult to do so. At times she made it easy for him, and at times she did not.

So that was the time when it was the game round, when they were not ‘just’ friends and not yet something else. Everyday he went school praying that he will get some of her free time. Those were the only days when he liked going to school.

It was the month of August and one day when he woke up, it was raining heavily. It was difficult to go to school, as he used public transport. The attendance was meager on such days and teachers never taught. Thus, in way it was worthless to go to school on that day. Or was it?

He decided to call the school to check if rainy day had been declared. Oops, the telephone was dead. So he decided to go to a PCO. Even if in heavily raining morning at 6:30 AM, the chances of getting an open PCO are nil, only those who had been in such a state could understand his perseverance.

After walking for half an hour he found an open PCO. He called the school and it was open. Then he dialed ‘her’ number. But alas, her phone was dead too. Now there was going to be no confirmation.

His mother told him to sit at home that day. But for some reasons, he explained to her that something important was going on in the class and he cannot afford missing a lecture (see, he did not lie :) ). His mother was too pleased to see his devotion.

So he somehow managed to reach school, of course completely wet. His heart was beating fast when he approached his classroom. But then a smile came on his face. He could hear the familiar laughter.

They shared a mischievous smile when he entered the class as if this was perfectly preplanned. That was the day when it became clear that they really shared a bond; and an understanding too. Only seven people were present that day and two were 'them'. He sat with her for eight periods, of course with none of her friends around. Oh yes, that rainy day was his first date.

She Came, She Saw, She Conquered

2007-08-03T22:27:00.000+05:30

Yes she did that. Her conquest was complete and brutal. But I won’t talk about her conquest. It is already well known. I will only talk about the defeat. I was not the one defeated but certainly I had to bear its consequences.

I will not confuse you more. The lady I am talking about is Ekta Kapoor and her entire ‘K’ series. Do not smile now and think that you will guess what I am going to write next. I hope my blogs are not as predictable.

I remember the time when I could actually watch television for hours. It used to be my best past time. There were serials that were interesting; there were soaps that were small and all ended after a certain time. But that was before the advent of Miss Kapoor.

The lady came and conquered the entire television primetime. She revolutionized the soaps and their entire storylines. Now wives find it hard now to manage with one husband, women never wear ordinary saris and soaps cannot do without songs.

There is this special ‘K’ series sound effect and all soaps have to revolve around family sagas. If a serial becomes popular, forget that it will ever end. It will evolve for generations, and in one year, an actor may find herself doing a fifth generation role.

Now I remain as far from the ‘idiot box’ as I can. I sincerely understand now why it has to be called so. I hate everything in these soaps, and the worst is the way their episodes end, as if there is none going to be more interesting than next.

Worse, I feel I am turning paranoid. When its special sound effects enter my ears, I feel restless. And if I see a tear in someone’s while watching these, I have no words to express my rage. It is not at the tears, but at the pathetic storyline that can bring that.

Well, I have been turned an outcaste in my own home. She is popular, she earns a lot, but let me explicitly state this; she is the one who stole my television.

Civil Services Mains Preparation: General Studies

2007-08-01T19:40:00.000+05:30

The long promised blog about civil services mains preparation is here. Do not read this if you are not appearing for civil services. Before starting the preparation, have a look at the syllabus. A topic wise unsolved of Y.D. Mishra is available in the market and it can be of good help.

Now for each subject I have given a list of material that can be studied. The first paragraph is the material that should be studied and is mostly sufficient whereas the second one will be the additional that can also be looked at.

Polity: The best source for polity is the notes of Mr Ravindran of Vajiram. They are sufficient for getting good marks. It shall also be good idea to read the printed material (that is yellow books) of Vajiram.

Apart from this D. D. Basu’s book on ‘Introduction to India’s Constitution’ can also be read for specific topics. For a simpler reading two books of Subhash Kashyap on Constitution and Parliament may be referred. A topper also recommended me Laxmikant’s book on Polity and a book on ‘Indian Administration and Politics’ by Awasthi.

History: Bipin Chandra’s India’s Struggle for Independence is a must read if one wants to get a good understanding of freedom struggle. Also NCERT’s ‘Modern India’ is indispensable. There is a book of Spectrum on Modern India and it should be referred, but remember one needs a broader understanding and Spectrum only may not be sufficient.

Geography: Read two NCERT’s books on Physical Geography of India and People and Economy. Also printed material (yellow book) of Vajiram is good for Geography.

International Affairs: The notes of Vajiram and its printed material (published till mid September) are a must read, but try not to cram them as most candidates will be writing the same.

This is also broadly prepared from the daily reading of ‘The Hindu’. I mean just read it everyday. There is no need for making notes or cutting articles from it. Also read Frontline. One may buy ‘World Focus’ but it should be read fast. The NCERT book ‘Democracy in India’ can also be studied. Someone told me that Competition Wizard is better than many magazines, so one may have a look at it too.

Economy: For this notes of Vajiram and its printed material is sufficient.

If one wants to read a book, Uma Kapila can be studied. Also having the Penguin dictionary of Economics may be good help.

Science and Technology: Vajiram notes and material are sufficient for this. One may also read Spectrum of Science and Tech. On Thursday, Hindu has an S & T page, so keep an eye on that.

A topper told me that even reading the magazine ‘Science Reporter’ can be of great help.

Statistics: For engineers it can be a cakewalk provided a person has seen the previous years question papers. Spectrum is sufficient for it.

One may even have a look at NCERT book for statistics.

Social Issues: Read them from any source, may be Vajiram printed material or anything else. But do not skip them. The list can be seen from Y. D. Mishra’s unsolved papers.

Current Affairs, International Organizations etc: I read them from Vajiram printed material. You can choose any other source. It is better to get Xeroxed material of Vajiram and read it than sitting in the class and noting them down.

Two markers: Read them from any source you can get. There is a CST special issue for two markers published nearly in July. Even many magazines publish two markers special so keep on collecting them. Reading India Year book may also help.

People have told me that both, class notes of Vajiram and its printed material is available in the market, so it is a good idea to buy them.

Now about completing the question paper. I will tell what I had done. I prepared the order in which I was going to attempt the paper. For e.g. in first paper I decided to do Polity, then history then something else. After that I calculated the time available for each mark. For e.g. a 30 marker corresponds to 18 minutes. So I crammed by heart that if paper starts at 9:30, my first question should finish at 9:50 and so on. Thus I could keep a tap on the time and it nearly corresponded with the word limit. So I suggest start from the areas of strength and cram the various times by which you will be finishing a particular question.

I have tried my best to collect a lot of information from various sources. I have mentioned a comprehensive list of sources but it is not that I have studied them all. I have taken inputs from many toppers and I have tried to incorporate their sources. Any more queries are welcome. Happy preparation and best of luck J

PS: I thank Shammi Abidi (Rank 16), Anurag Tewari (Rank 24) and Udit Rai (Rank 25) for their kind help in preparation of this blog.

The Shopping Blues

2007-07-31T15:24:00.001+05:30

Run you ever so far, shopping will always catch you. The truth of this statement cannot be appreciated more, by those caught in a state like mine.

After evading shopping for years, it has come back to me and it is back with a vengeance. Time for celebrating my success in civil services has ended. The only thing left with me now is ‘the list’. This dreaded list contains entire shopping universe in itself. I have to buy suitcases, I have to buy suits, I have to buy shirts, and I have to buy soaps and what not.

Shopping is an activity I am really scared of. Once upon a time I bought a suit. But that was once upon a time. Now I am made to listen to the shopkeeper that this one is Terri wool, that one is 40%wool, this one is Reid and Taylor and that one is Raymond’s. And after that I am asked to choose. The truth is, for me there is no difference, apart from their different names.

I can count on fingers the occasions when I wore a tie. Now I have to decide whether this tie goes with that shirt or that suit. Choosing between two colors becomes the biggest dilemma of my life. And how I can even guess if trousers with plates shall be better than trousers without plates?

I belong to that school of thought which completely understands the pain of the salesmen. If a person in a shop shows me some clothes, I feel that it is my sacred duty to reward his hard work by buying at least one. How can I get out of the shop empty handed?

The problem of shopping does not end here. I want to get the best deal but I cannot bargain. My morals do not allow me to ask the shopkeeper to lower his prices. If I do that and the shopkeeper refuses, it becomes a big insult. Thus most of the time, I pay the first price asked by the shopkeepers. Even after that I am not comfortable and live with the feeling that I was dumb.

If you are going to say that I should take help of others, I am smarter than that. Always, I mean always literally, I have taken someone with me to shop. But till today no one has been able to do that with perfection. If I ask which one looks better, I should be told confidently “AS, this looks better on you”. I won’t even blink an eye before buying it. The problem comes when I see confusion on other’s face.

So there was a simple solution that I adopted. Do not shop. I did that for years but happiness does not last long. Now I have to makeup for whatever shopping I have evaded for years.

God gave me a personality, and he gave me a face. As an obedient man, I respected his wishes. I lived in my dreamland, completely comfortable within myself. Then why should I be put in dilemma of choosing what looks good on me?

God, I need help!

Back To the School

2007-07-19T08:33:00.000+05:30

Recently I went back to the school. I had to tell the students about my story (read success) and how I went about it. Well this is a euphemism for lecturing the students. I had to motivate them to study and work hard. Yes, I did that, any eyebrows raised?

The hardest thing to do is to tell the kids to study and still keep the lecture interesting. Hardly a day goes in a student’s life when he has not heard the same. When I was a student, I dreaded such ‘motivation’ lectures. But it is hard to resist the temptation of going back to your school and speak as a victor.

Now I prepared a lot for it. Tried to bring in humor in my speech, add some twists and turns and try to bluff the students that studies is the most important task they have to do in life.

For example I asked them, if they criticized corruption? Now the definition of corruption came out to be, not doing the work one is supposed to do. So I said if a student is not studying, he is corrupt. Poor kids!

The common thing I found was, the teachers complaining that the standard of students has declined considerably. Now they are more concerned about other things in life than in studies. Our time used to be the golden period of studies. I do not know if this is really the truth or the nostalgia suffered by all teachers alike. When I was a student, my teachers were always telling our batch the same.

But yes India has changed a lot in last ten years or so and is effect of globalization visible on the students. That is a point to ponder. If there is a change everywhere there will be some change in the students also.

All in all it was a good experience, at least for me. I do not know if kids could take something positive from it or not. But then it gave me an opportunity to go back to school and the good part was, not for studying :)

//Next post will have to wait for some days, I am going out of station//

Reservations on Economic Lines

2007-07-15T12:55:00.000+05:30

I am not going to discuss reservation and its pros and cons. What I intend to do here is to present my take on reservation proposed from time to time based on economic criterion.

First we should understand why to have reservations in the first place. One answer is, to provide a level playing field to the marginalized sections of the society. If this is the reason, economic criterion may well qualify for becoming the basis of reservation. But there is more to it.

Reservation is a form of penance for wrongs done in the past by our forefathers. Certain castes were deliberately oppressed for ages by the Varna system. Because of centuries of institutionalized oppression, most people from those castes remain backward even today. Reservation is an effort to give them their true share and bring them at par with other sections of the society. We now have reservations because some wrong had been committed in the past.

Now the case I keep on hearing that the basis of reservation should be economic. So we should ponder why people are poor, especially those belonging to the forward castes. Was it fault of the society, or it was some form of injustice? I guess not. People from forward castes were not prevented by the society from becoming prosperous. Their poverty was the result of reasons concerning solely themselves and not the society as a whole. So there is no penance required for a crime not committed.

In fact reservations on economic lines will mean reservations in perpetuity. There will always be poor in the society. Won’t it be a disincentive for working hard and becoming rich. Why should the family which toiled and became prosperous suffer vis a vis that whose efforts were not so great and it remained poor. It shall not be justice.

I do not intend to say that I support reservation or am against it. That is a different matter altogether. My only point is to present my case that reservation based on economic lines is a flawed concept having no proper justification for it.

Just a Talk

2007-07-12T17:43:00.000+05:30

The story was really simple. He loved this girl, the girl loved him and then there was no other issue. I mean no other issue from the parent’s side.

His parents were basically moderate and they already knew about their relationship. Wait a minute, who says. Well, they must have known by now, it had already been nine years; he had talked to her for hours on phone in front of them. But!

So there was this unexplainable problem, how to make the already knowing parents know that he was in a relationship. The meaning is that they would have never objected but still one needs to tell them formally. He belonged to a middle class family with a set of values. By values, it is meant the kind of parent’s who find it hard to utter the words like girlfriend, relationship etc. They talk about their son’s marriage to all their relatives but not with him.

Now he delayed the matter as long as he could but then it is hard convincing a girl who wants to get married. His girlfriend desperately wanted that he should formally let his parents know. I need you to have ‘Just a talk’ was what his girlfriend told him.Only those having a close understanding of Indian families can appreciate the precariousness of 'Just a Talk'.

So after days of excuses and many ultimatums from his girlfriend, he gave up. It had to be do or die. He called up his mother, talked for fifteen minutes about her health, weather, traffic hazards of Delhi etc, took a deep breadth and shot the question point blank, “What have you thought about my marriage”. See simple.

Well he had tried to smile a bit and give it a humorous look, but the effect of his voice came somewhat like a serious Greek tragedy. There was this heavy silence that followed with some heavy breathing on both sides. There are moments when to speak something, you have to move your cheeks really hard. Both of them uttered some vague words but he could not recollect them ever.

After this he took a recluse from this world. He told his girlfriend whatever be the consequences, he is never going to breach the subject again. It was a gross violation of the family norms. For next three days, the phone of his mother came and he received them well making sure that discussion is always on formal lines. They again talked about heat, weather and relatives.

On the fourth day, his mother was in no mood to give up. She must have tried really hard but ultimately she made things really easy for him and made him talk. Thus this simple story had this happy ending and he was relieved that he will never have to do this ever again.

The Omnipotent

2007-07-09T01:24:00.000+05:30

I cannot say if I noticed him when I first saw him. I had gone to a small restaurant for dinner and he was the waiter serving there. He must have been nearly twelve years of age, thin, dark, and shrill voiced; identical to thousands other like him. Thus he had nothing which attracts the attention of anyone.

I gave the order and he copied it obediently. While waiting for the order to come, I somehow noticed him staring at the dishes he was going to serve at the tables. This looked to be his usual practice. He looked hungry and was perhaps attracted by the smell of the dish.

I am no fond of giving alms, but for an unexplainable reason I felt that I should make him happy. I will not say that I had any sympathy with him. It was in a way , the desire to feel that I was great and was able to fulfill the wish of someone, similar to the omnipotent god. My urge grew stronger and I wanted to feel that I am the agent of happiness in mankind.

When he came to my table, I asked him that which was his favorite dish in the menu card. Somewhat startled at my strange behavior, he replied it was the chilly chicken. Then as an obedient salesman, he went on to describe the specialties of that item at this restaurant. I smiled and ordered him to bring its two plates.

He arrived again, staring greedily as usual at the dish. With a big smile on my face and expecting a deep gratitude from him, I told him that the extra plate was for him, a gift from my side, the self appointed Santa Clause.

For a moment he stood there, quiet, clueless, looking the chicken, looking at my face . Then he looked at the manager’s counter and said bluntly that he cannot accept it. I was shocked. This guy was behaving in such an erratic fashion and was actually shooing away the Santa Clause. When I gained some calm, I asked him the reason for refusing it when he had been staring at the plates for long.

With a blank face he told me that a customer can give him a tip, but if someone makes him to eat something, it shall be taken as a sign that one is luring him away from his job. This may look to be a sign that he can quit the work and hence is not a reliable worker. It may cost him his job.

I will not say his reply made no sense to me. But then it was too much for me to understand viewpoints; perspectives. I was not really disappointed, but I felt like a big fool. I made the payment fast and rushed out of the restaurant.

I had this urge to run from anyone who had seen me performing Santa Clause.

Civil Services Preparations: General Facts

2007-07-06T17:51:00.000+05:30

I do not claim to be an authority on the subject. My only qualification to write this blog is that I could actually secure a good rank in the exam. This is going to be a general blog and I am writing answers to the questions which have been asked from me many times (without missing to add general gyan from my side too). I also plan a blog for something specific on mains but that shall be later.

1. Strange it may sound, but there is no ‘secret’ to succeed in civil services. It is only hard work, and more importantly done in the right direction. Do not go for many ‘strategies’ to succeed. Cover the entire syllabus, read standard books, give equal weightage to all the subjects and the chances of your succeeding will double.

2. Coaching is not necessary but it does give you an edge, provided you are at the right institute. But that is the case mainly with humanities . In technical subjects I really doubt if good help is available. Remember most of the teachers for civil services in Delhi are those who tried for civil services four times, failed and then started a coaching.

3. Do not take an attempt to see the paper. Your chance of succeeding at any stage without complete preparation is naught. Also it shall be a better idea to buy an unsolved; you may actually see more papers, than by sitting in the exam unprepared :)

4. Do not try to find statistics that chances of success in which attempt are maximum. I have met many candidates saying ‘third attempt is the best attempt’. The person who guided me, made me believe it is possible in the first attempt and I tell you the same.

5. There are no right optionals . It is seventy five percent interest and twenty five percent availability of resources. The only advantage of a popular subject is that resources shall be easily available . Also since the number of candidates appearing from a popular subject shall be more, good number of students will succeed from that subject hence popular subject remains popular.

6. For those from technical fields ( specifically my friends from IIT’s); you also can take humanities. It was not that you were bad at humanities so you took science after high school, but it was that you were good in science too and more opportunities were available there. Considering the education standards in India, you need not worry that an arts graduate will be having an advantage having studied them for years.

7. Another thing for IITians. Since you cracked JEE, you did not get the birthright to enter civil services by taking science subjects. Before opting for them, make sure that you are really interested in the subject. Times have changed and UPSC has revised their syllabus a lot, from what I hear somewhat on the difficult side. A good amount of hard work is required in them and getting marks in science subjects is linear, that is directly proportional to the effort involved.

8. When I say that I do not mean that getting marks in humanities require less effort. It is that writing style, language etc which play an important role in any humanities develop over the years, so it is your previous efforts in life which makes it appear, that humanities require less time for preparation.

9. Above all, the exam is really difficult and not completely predictable. Do not enter it if you are not very serious about it. It ruins the career of many youths. Remember only 474 guys selected out of nearly three lakh applicants. So if we compare the input and output, civil services is not a very attractive career option.

Ignore this if you find it irrelevant. There is no empirical evidence to all this and it is only what I feel. By the way, if you are preparing for the exam, best of luck :)

A Brush with the system

2007-07-04T22:06:00.001+05:30

Time is one of the most mesmerizing elements of life. This thought crossed my mind only because I am going to tell you about an incident that happened some time ago.

When I use ‘sometime’, I mean a time not long back, not in recent past. So there was a time when in India all had to stand in queues to get the railway reservation done. It was just before the digital divide took place, when men were not divided into online and inline, those having credit cards and those not having credit cards.

I had to travel and my journey was as usual, unplanned. Getting a reservation in train was always difficult. It was so in good old time when population was less, food was cheap and trains ran on time. It was difficult now when the one billion mark crossed unceremoniously. To put it in simple terms, I had to travel and did not have a reservation.

Some people are fighters and I call myself that. I decided to get the ticket under tatkal scheme. For those who do not know, a percentage of tickets are available just some days before, of course at a dearer cost. Reservation under tatkal begins at 8:00 AM sharp and all tickets get sold within minutes.

So I decided to leave no stone unturned and reached the reservation counter at 4:30 AM to be first in the line. I underestimated my competitors and three people already present at the counter. But not bad, even after those three, I had a good chance to get the prized tatkal reservation done.

The time passed well and like common Indians, all those present there developed a bond, shared their newspapers, discussed politics and made a new cricket team. Thus we were having a good if not great time there. Wait a minute, clock was nearing 8:00 AM and reaching the counter early is necessary but not sufficient condition to get the ticket done. The clerk also has to come.

At 7:55 AM our searching eyes saw the lady clerk arriving from a distance, with serenity like Buddha on her face and the regal gait of a king. I bet no one, but those working in the government departments can perfect that aura.

The lady was meticulous; she entered the office at sharp 8:00 AM, brought a water glass for her, watched herself in a mirror, made a small prayer, ignored the murmurings of commoners and patiently booted the computer. By the time computer opened and the first ticket was made it was already 8:15 AM.

The work happened as usual and the story ends. Oh yes, what happened to my ticket. You guessed it right, did not get it and so did the two others who came before me. Even if this blog was of no help in the treatise of time, I know you must have by now understood why people here believe in god and the theory of karma.

I knew it

2007-07-03T17:23:00.000+05:30

Read carefully, at least at some part of your life you must have experienced this.

Symptoms:

1. Watching random orkut profiles; seeing their stupid pictures most of which are ‘cute’ cartoons (why the hell do I need to come to your pictures folder to watch them), reading the boring ‘about me’ and hackneyed, mutually shared testimonials which mostly start with ‘what to say about him/her’, or even worse, roses drawn by text art.

2. Remaining online for hours, watching those who are online but remaining in guise of a ‘busy’ symbol.

3. Checking the email in every two minutes, refreshing the page every now and then to receive the new emails and having an occasional look at the spam folder.

4. Doing what you are doing just now, that is reading blogs, most of which hardly make sense (mine seriously excluded )

Inference:
1. You have a lot of idle time and a generous internet connection.
2. That means you have got a rich father, or
3. God was kind upon you and you entered an IIT, or an engineering college where there is no work and free internet connection.
4. You may also be at a liberal software organization where you work (at least in official terms).

The disease is called boredom. I am suffering from that too. I never knew why I always had so much free time on earth. The condition is serious, and believe it or not, internet hardly provides a solution. That I have been trying for years

Any remedies?

Random Muses

2007-07-02T13:42:00.000+05:30

The truth is I have nothing concrete to write and I do not want to make up stories. I just want to remember certain recent events that touched me and are worth chronicling.

I went to my maternal grandparents place some days ago. There was nothing ecstatic about the visit but I could feel again that no one can match the love of grandparents. There is something different about it. It is independent of your success, failures, simply endless love.

There was an old lady whom we went to meet. She was the one who fixed the marriage of my parents and she was more proud of the fact, now when I was going to be an IAS. My dad ate two laddoos despite his diabetese, and my mother and I had to eat more. She recollected the struggle of my grandmother to get my father educated (my grandfather died very early) and the humble beginning of my parents. There were tears in her eyes, Ok, a little in all of us. She was so happy and so proud. Even if I leave other things, this moment was a reason sufficient for me to choose IAS as a career.

All this brought back the memories of my grandmother. I don’t remember much about her, I was just eight when she passed away, but yes, I remember her wrinkled hand, the story of ‘Bhakt Prahlad’ she kept on repeating, and I can still feel her love. I remember her angry face whenever my mother scolded me and I remember my tears when she died. Till today no one could match the love she showered upon me.

Some other things I remember too, the ancient family temple where I was taken; the feeling of distant relatives that I will be of some help to them now, and those repetitive marriage proposals. Then there were those mosquitos that left their marks every night, the flies that had the duty to wake you up with the dawn and the electricity which came at times to show that the town was electrified.

But yes, I could see my roots, beginning of my family, beginning of me.

Another Day, Another Wedding

2007-06-28T18:39:00.000+05:30

It’s the season of weddings and yesterday I went to another wedding. The interesting thing is there are so many similar things about all of them. I agree that a wedding is a wedding but I am not talking about the rituals.

First is about the bride. I had known the girl for long. She was cute; she was simple, in a way a normal middle class Indian girl. But when I saw her on stage I could not recognize her. Her makeup made her look exactly like the Durga idols in durga puja. Natural color of the skin was nowhere to be seen.

Adding to it poor girl had to maintain an emotionless face and most of the time look at the ground. The only relaxation allowed was that she could smile a little with a special care that her teeth’s should not be seen. She played her part well and all brides really do.

Another was about the DJ. In our families this was a new entry some years before but not now. No wedding can miss a DJ. But they also invited the ‘shehnai wadaks’ so that the impression is both, modern and traditional. But alas, the shehnais had to play along with the DJ. They were at two different corners of the ground but the throat of the shehnai wadaks was no match to the 1000 watt DJ. When the bride came on stage, the shehnais had some traditional dhun whereas the DJ was playing ‘kahan teri ye nazar hai, meri jaan mujhe khabar hai.

One thing that frightened me was the liberal use of firearms for rejoicing. I never understood one thing. People fire the shots pointing the gun up. I always feel that at the place where the bullet will land it will hurt somebody. Is’nt that true?

Now the most important thing; the food. Believe it or not, for most of the persons, having dinner is the only duty they are required to perform in the wedding. So if you want that people should remain to watch some ceremonies, delay the food otherwise no one is going to watch them barring a few close relatives who have no escape.

The only good this about this wedding was that somehow three girls came to know that I have been selected in the civil services. They came to me and talked about this exam. I do not think I was able to give them any tips but it’s always better to counsel aspirants than watching the same weddings.

The Mystery of Sweet Boxes

2007-06-27T08:47:00.001+05:30

I am no Arthur Conan Doyle so don’t expect a Sherlock Holmes kind of mystery from me. My mystery is simply AS’s mystery, the kind of mystery which happens in our families, surrounding any interesting event, be it a marriage, funeral, or something of ‘relevance’ for e.g. getting a job.

But my mystery was different. It had actors which were unknown to me, unknown to each other. That made the case more complex. Now when I will tell you, you will say this was obvious but not to me,not to someone who is unfamiliar with the dealings of our society.

So what happened was, sweet boxes kept on piling in my house. There were kaju wali barfis, there were gulabjamuns, there were jalebis, there were those bengali sweets and what not. And the strange thing was they came from sources unknown to me, unknown to my family. People came with distant references or no reference at all and never forgot to bring a sweet box along with them.

I enquired to my mother but she could not give a satisfactory answer. I had a doubt that she was hiding something from me. When I saw a pattern I decided to solve the case. The only change from the past was that I was selected in a competition (now I won’t mention the name). But was that the only reason.

And then I got the clue which opened everything. Many of the sweet providers were asking my date of birth and not only that, even the time and place of it. So now I know. I am not that big a naive not to understand that these things are used for horoscopes.

You might not have solved the case but it’s my detective instinct that found that these sweet boxes were for marriage proposals. But for whom, was it for me, AS. The case was not that simple. On deeper analysis I found that I or my name did not matter. The proposals were for someone who was going to be an IAS.

Dear sweet boxes, all of you will be disappointed, but no, I am not going to disclose the reason :)

Meeting Anurag Srivastava, the DM

2007-06-26T15:55:00.000+05:30

(Lot of didactic stuff, don't blame me if you get bored)

This is not meant to be a joke. The present DM of Kanpur is in fact Shri Anurag Srivastava, IAS topper 1992 batch. He has done his B.Tech from IIT Kanpur and got through civil services in his first attempt by achieving All India Rank one . I got to meet him through a common friend of family.

The first thing that strikes about the DM house is its opulence. The house that was designed during British era can in no way be called humble. From the main road one can see signboards pointing towards the DM house. It is a huge house with a bunch of policeman at the gate.

At the allotted time we are asked to enter the office. I am awed by seeing the size of the office. It is like a big conference room. There is a big table and seats for visitors, not two, not three but at least thirty grand chairs. Later I came to know that the office is also used for press conferences and meetings and hence it’s huge size. There is a laptop kept at the table, a TV and a VCD player in a side of the room.

Anurag Srivastava is a thin man in his late thirties. I am introduced to him and he is pleased to know that we are namesakes. The discussion begins and first thing at which we are amused is that both of us got poor marks at the interview. He got 120(out of 250) and I got 150(out of 300).

After some trivial talk, I arrive at the real issue “Sir, I am going to enter the IAS, what advice would you like to give me" And now starts the real conversation.

He starts by saying enjoy your stay at Mussorie, learn all what you can, be it horse riding or firing pistols. Also, study the courses well; you may need them in your job. Do no think that your studies are over. You will have to keep reading throughout your life.

Quoting his words “IAS is the best job profile a person ever dreams.” One can get to work in almost any department. There is infinite scope of everything. If you want to bring development you will be able to do that, if you want to attack
Social evils, you can do that, if you want to get degrees, you will be able to get admission in the best universities worldwide, and if you want to be corrupt no one will be able to do anything against you.

But if you want to do good work, and serve the real goal of being an IAS never bow to any pressure. This shall be very difficult for the initial years of your service. Accommodate you must, but never at the cost of your principles.

His parting advice was "Don’t get lost in this power game. Give time to your family and do what you enjoy to do. There is pressure in the job but you have to manage it.

There is a life beyond IAS and enjoy that too.”

Voice of the Nation

2007-06-14T21:06:00.000+05:30

So Pratibha Patil, the present governor of Rajasthan, is the choice of UPA and left for the post of president. We may soon have our first female president. Sonia Gandhi and many others have called it a historic event.

The thing that strikes me is the focus is on ‘first female’ president. This has become her biggest qualification. Last time NDA brought Kalam and thus brought a ‘muslim’ president. Congress made Manmohan Singh Prime Minister and hence gave the nation first Sikh PM.

No I am not claiming that these things were parochial. I just intend to know does this really represent something. Have we achieved women empowerment after sixty years of independence and hence a female candidate for post. Does Manmohan Singh represent that minorities have gained equal share in development of the nation.

Actually the answer looks to be a no to me. Yes India is secular, democratic, providing equality to all and there is absolutely no doubt about that but somewhere in sixty years we could not achieve what we dreamt. There have been aberrations and certainly some big ones. The conscience of the nation and its people suffer from this guilt. It haunts us all and things like ‘first female president’ are like assurances that we give to ourselves that all is well.

To me this is not the voice of the nation but a chimera we intend to invent. The voice of the nation says fulfill the promises made to the citizens. Make India what it was intended to be, what is its true nature from centuries, an amalgamation, a land which provides home for all, whose main feature is its diversity, respect for all beliefs, race, religion, philosophies.

Till that day comes, we will be happy with things like we are going to have our first female president.

The 'Just Friends' Syndrome

2007-06-12T08:36:00.000+05:30

There was this boy who loved a girl. And there was this girl who again loved this boy. Everything looked so beautiful and they were living in their dreamland. Both believed that life was beautiful till the boy decided to make it formal and said to the girl “I love you”. Kahani me twist, the girl asks this boy “Can’t we just be friends”. How was this just in anyway. Just!

I had to suffer because of it. Many of my friends suffered because of it. Most boys suffer because of it. I am talking here of the ‘Can’t we just be friends’ syndrome of girls, the dreaded words many boys are made to hear.

There was a donkey. And there was a farmer sitting on him. When the donkey stopped moving, the farmer hanged a carrot in front of the donkey with the help of a stick. Poor donkey kept moving in hope that he will soon be able to get the carrot. Someone in this story was a boy and someone was a girl, and there are no prizes for guessing it right.

Girls are never sure whether they want to commit or not. But they do not even let the boy move on. Their concepts of relative velocity are solid. They maintain a constant distance and ensure that the relative velocity is zero. You move one step back and they will come one step forward and vice versa. How can one have her cake and eat it too.

Someone please explain this to girls!

PS: I completely understand the reason why girls do not commit and they are fully justified. Its hard to love shabby boys and harder to consciously acknowlede it . The conclusion is I am no Male Chauvinist Pig :)

The Great Indian Train Chat

2007-06-09T07:57:00.001+05:30

You may not be able to make much sense of this blog if you have been traveling in AC/First class . This posting is for those whose main ally during train travels has been sleeper class and the enjoyable train chat that comes along with it. Most of the time I found myself incapable to participate in them but even being a mute spectator was a good experience. What I wish to do here is to recollect major topics that you will find in almost in any train chat.

The first and foremost is politics. People are always discussing who is going to win the elections, how much is the moral bankruptcy of politicians, how pure leaders were in good old days etc. The good/bad part in there is no dearth of ideas, I have found people supporting military rule and others praying for a leader like Hitler

Another is the national pastime; cricket. The common factor I observe is that cricketers need to be criticized. People form mutual cribbing society, I will criticize my favorite, and you crib about yours.

Now comes the turn of railways. How trains are getting delayed, what were the perfection of railways in good old days and the conspiracy of railway staff to stop their train to bypass some other.

Along with it there is population. People are never so concerned about population than they are when they see the crowd in trains. They spell the doom of India within years. The most neutral topic can be weather, for e.g. to start the conversation ‘Bahut garmi hai na aaj’. Many other come to my mind like reservation, scandals, great old Indian culture, movies, declining morality etc but I will leave them for the moment.

The beauty of these is they show me the real India, and its multiple colors. I can see India that is multicultural, its citizens who are naïve yet caring, people supporting Hitler yet crying in saas bahu sagas, people who are basically democratic, knowing the art of bonding with strangers, sharing almost same ethics and values. A journey in train can be a journey of the nation.

Favorite for Lifetime

2007-06-08T11:32:00.000+05:30

This is something that had a deep impact on my life and the priorities I decided. It is somewhat old so you might have read it, but anyways it much more worth posting than any of my other blogs. Give it a try once:

Steve Jobs, 2005 Stanford Commencement Address :This is the prepared text of the address by Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple Computer and of Pixar Animation Studios, who spoke at Commencement on June 12, 2005.

I am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this is the closest I've ever gotten to a college graduation.

Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That's it. No big deal. Just three stories.

The first story is about connecting the dots.

I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?

It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: "We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?" They said: "Of course."

My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college. And 17 years later I did go to college.

But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK.

It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn't interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting. It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends' rooms, I returned coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it.

And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example: Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn't have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and san serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can't capture, and I found it fascinating.

None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, its likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college.

But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later. Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something - your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.

My second story is about love and loss.

I was lucky - I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4000 employees. We had just released our finest creation - the Macintosh - a year earlier, and I had just turned 30.

And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating.

I really didn't know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down - that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me - I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over. I didn't see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything.

It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life. During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the worlds first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I retuned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple's current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together. I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple.

It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don't lose faith. I'm convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You've got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don't settle.

My third story is about death.

When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything - all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that your are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure very thing is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes. I lived with that diagnosis all day.

Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I'm fine now. This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope it's the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true. Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life.

Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of other's opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960's, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors, and Polaroid cameras.

It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: it was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions. Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words:

"Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.

Thank you all very much.

The Male Dance Begins

2007-06-06T07:58:00.001+05:30

So you are wondering what is male dance. It is the dance (or an activity which is different from normal) which males in some species perform to attract the females. You guessed it right, male dance is common in human beings too.

Even I have found myself performing male dance at times. More than the idea of attracting the females, it’s the behavior of other males around you which makes you do this.

The recent incident occurred in a meet of candidates selected in civil services organized by an organization which conducted mock interviews. We were nearly twenty peoples and as usual there was the skewed sex ratio, the curse thrust upon me since my engineering days, only four girls on sixteen boys.

I went with a friend of mine who got a slightly better rank. Complete one hour passed and we could not even claim a ‘hi’ with girls. The competition was tough and even the faculty seemed to be our competitors, leave alone the selected guys.

There was this beautiful girl; with a sunshine smile (other descriptions ought to be omitted for decency) who attracted the attention of nearly everyone. We could have never let the event pass without an introduction at least. The hierarchy principle was running high in our mind and if a guy, who was uglier than us (in relative terms), with a rank in two hundreds could constantly revolve around her, we having a rank in twenties certainly deserved our share.

So when the girl was leaving and this ugly guy still revolving around her, we decided to take matters in our hand (in other words perform the male dance). We said a desperate hi and once the conversation started, we were seeking all the information right from which place she belonged, which service she expected, what were her optionals etc. The competition even started between me and my friend that who can talk more to her. The guy with this girl was stubborn. He did not leave the girl even now. Though as Arjuna, we concentrated only on the girl completely ignoring the guy.

Someone reintroduced us four to another faculty and we discovered that this guy and that girl had the same surname. I missed even this but my friend who claims to have more experience in these matters felt something wrong. He asked the guy if the girl was his sister or a relative. To the embarrassment of all of us he said aloud “No! we are going to get married soon.”

Well, that is life. We salvaged our image after that as much as we could by talking only with the guy about his marriage plans, and pretending that we were so excited by their plans. After that I had a deep regret that I also performed the male dance, and as usual failed miserably. I console myself by thinking it’s the human gene that is to blame and not me.

God! You created an unfair world.

PS: If the couple concerned is reading this, please pardon me and understand that I had to take some liberties with the incident to make the blog interesting.

I also want to state to all those reading that there is a good element of imagination in this, so do not let this post degrade my image :)

Destiny

2007-06-05T10:03:00.000+05:30

What is the role of luck in life vis a vis a person’s karma. Some say that luck is the most important factor in anyone’s success while many believe that it’s a person’s efforts that decide the outcome. I found two very interesting explanations of this which cleared my understanding.

Life is like a game of bridge. The cards you get is your destiny but how you play is your karma. A person with good cards may spoil his game and vice versa. So in a way it’s a mixture of both.

Another explanation was that we are like an animal bounded by a rope in his neck. The animal cannot go beyond the limits of rope but in order to find out what his limits are he will have to do his karma.

Though at the risk of sounding didactic, I will say that all have to do their efforts to succeed. For success in UPSC I will say you need to be both hard working and lucky :). After all this speculation, I bow before Gita:

“Karmanyevadhikaraste Ma Faleshu Kadachana”

Relatives

2007-06-03T10:06:00.000+05:30

No, I am not going to crib about my relatives. They love me a lot and they are highly appreciative that I got selected in IAS with a good rank. This article is about some distant relatives and friends of family. I haven’t ever met many of them but now I have no escape as I am free and they are also much more eager to call me.

I visited many distant relatives for the first time. Yes I have been a good student throughout, a got a merit in boards went to IIT, then cleared IAS (agreed, enough of boasting) but that does not mean I don’t respect anyone. It has now nearly become a rule that everyone presents his and his family’s CV to me. I come to know what degrees they received, how many of their near and dears ones were from IIT’s, how many cleared it in first attempt, at what pay packages they are working and how many civil servants they know. I understand that they are not showing off but somewhere at the back of their mind they feel I won’t respect them.

Another big problem is how I can tell a kid studying in fourth or fifth how to study. I mean I never knew myself how I studied. And what will that kid make out from my didactic statements. I would have hated meeting anyone who tells me how to study. The limit is reached when I am asked to tell a kid how to become an IAS. May god save these children from their parent!

One bigger headache is the albums that I am made to see. I appreciate that they are trying to entertain me but why I would be interested in seeing pictures of birthday of their kid or their visit to Nainital. You have to deal very carefully in such situations. You should give each picture an optimum time, neither more nor less. Even if you are thinking about Timbaktu, show that you are really enjoying. Asking some questions in between gives a good impression to the host.

The best part of these visits is the adulation showered generously on me. So I have nothing to complain. Whatever anyone says, believe me all love flattery.

Ok go back to your work and I have a checklist given by my father of relatives to be completed.

IAS Interviews

2007-06-02T08:00:00.000+05:30

Don’t read it if you are looking for clues how to give a good interview in civil services. I have given just one and scored a pathetic 150. The worst part is I still feel I gave a good interview. What I wish to do in this blog is to recollect various incidents I came to know while discussing about interviews.

I begin with collection I got from common men who actually never appeared for civil services. I seriously doubt there is any element of truth in these but they present the most interesting lot.

I have heard this incident n number of times from various sources. The chairman of the board drops his pen on ground and asks the candidate to pick it up. When the candidate picks it up, the chairman becomes very angry. He says you are aspiring for the post of IAS, you don’t pick up the pen yourself but push the buzzer, call a peon and ask him to pick up the pen. Well, well, well, is there any wonder why the work in government departments’ move so slowly.

Another is about testing the sharpness of your memory. The board asks questions like how many steps you climbed before entering this room (UPSC interview room has no stairs, so don’t worry, this can never be asked) or what is the color of the wall behind you. I feel that they are more interesting than true.

Now some true incidents. A candidate enters the boardroom and falls flat on ground. The chairman says ‘Mr. what a great fall'. The candidate stands up, smiles and says ‘Sir, it’s a pleasure I have fallen in company of great men like you.’

There is one in which the chairman asks the candidate his favorite color. The candidate says none. The chairman insists on his favorite color but the chairman again says none. Now the chairman turns little angry and says look Mr. you have to give a color, imagine you are giving it to your bride but pick a color. The candidate becomes agitated and says if I have to pick up a color, it will be red, the color of revolution. The candidate is given very poor marks. When the other members ask the chairman how his preference of color determine his personality, he says that he is going to become an IAS, he will have to handle strikes, pulls and pressures from various groups, if he can become agitated in an interview room, one can imagine his behavior in the field.

From this time interviews, I remember questions like what is similarity between Mahatma Gandhi and Dr. Abdul Kalam. The candidate answers that Gandhi wanted colonial India believe that independent India is possible and Kalam wants developing India believe that developed India is possible.

A candidate who wrote classical singing as his hobby was asked to sing a song. Then he was asked to sing the same song in different raga. The candidate was able to do that and got 225.

One person was asked to untie his knot and tie it again. Poor candidate did not know how to tie a knot and became nervous. More than not knowing how to tie a knot, nervousness spoiled his interview. The person who was due after this candidate took out his tie outside the interview room when he came to know about this incident. His bad luck was he forgot to open the topmost button of his shirt and the first thing he had to explain was why he was not wearing a tie when he was having his topmost button closed.

There are many more incidents which I will recollect in a later blog. If you know any, do let me know. But yes, do not believe the magazines in which all the candidates say the board was very cordial, they made them very comfortable.

In case you want to read a perfect interview, read vivek’s blog if you have'nt read it till now.

Life has changed

2007-05-30T08:29:00.001+05:30

The person who delivered milk at my house never knew me. But this time when I went home, I received a big ‘sahab namaste’ from him. Oh yes I remember, I have been selected in IAS and if I exaggerate just a bit, I can say that my entire city knew it.

Life has changed. From anonymity of being a student to that of being selected for the post of biggest babu of government, change is in something that can be called drastic. The incidences I would mention here may be totally irrelevant, but to me they appeared as a constant reminder that something has changed.

I became an interesting news item, or at least an item ‘worth’ reading. I got coverage in three four news articles, got my picture published in them, also did a live one hour TV interview (so what it was a small local channel), answered hundreds of viewers how they should prepare for civil services, what I am going to do for the country, how many hours I studied a day, whether I studied during the day or night and if I am going to take dowry in my marriage.

Not everything was good about this achievement. I got a sense of superiority complex. I felt confident while driving the car without my driving license. I imagined that if any traffic policeman caught me, I will say haven’t you read today’s newspaper, don’t you know me.

Whenever an unknown person stared at me, I felt he is trying to recognize me since he would have seen my picture in the newspapers. But to my dismay no one has recognized me till today and I am still waiting. Why people dont read newspapers seriously.

A big disadvantage of any big achievement is that you are made to meet all your relatives whom you have been able to evade for years in guise of studying. In last fifteen days I must have touched feet’s of at least five hundred people. I know this a good exercise for my back but I fear that it may be an overdose.

Another constant irritation is people asking constantly what happened in my interview. I don’t understand why people are not satisfied when I tell about my real, simple interview. To tell the truth, they are disappointed. My description comes an an antithesis to their imagination about an 'IAS Interview'. I have heard so many stories about IAS interviews that I am sure I will write a blog on it and mind you my original interview was'nt even half as interesting.

One thing I can see that from now onwards I have to be a people’s man. I no longer have the luxury to be confined in myself. But whatever it may be, I am enjoying all this.

Something from Past

2007-05-28T22:30:00.000+05:30

This blog was written by me in october 2005 just before leaving the job at Asian Paints. I thought it was pretty personal so I did not publish it then. Now when I have got All India Rank 27 in civil services I think I am justifiedd in publishing this :-)

Yes I am going for it.

There was a kid in class 5th who dreamt of becoming an IAS officer. He lived with this idea, read long editorials in the newspaper, mugged CSR and did anything however stupid to live up his dream of becoming an IAS officer. Then he grew, realized the difficulties of life and gave up the idea.

That’s me. I was sure that I shall be going for IAS. Then at some point of time, I decided that I should enter the IIT to make my life secure. Lazy as I always was, I did not work hard to prepare for IAS during my stay at IIT. Life presented softer options and I went for them. One can take a good job, do an MBA, PhD or anything, but not taking up a job just for the sake of giving IAS exams looked a stupid idea. I decided to postpone the idea of appearing for IAS and went for a ‘good’ job. I wanted to play safe, make myself appear smart and present a successful image. The job was really good, probably among the best in the campus.

Just four months down the line I have money, prestige, envy of peers but still I am not satisfied. I feel I am betraying my dream. I do not want to wake up a morning when I turn 40 and feel that I did not had the guts to go for it. It may turn out to be a blunder; it may turn out to be a boon.

Whatever it may be, this is the best time to chase my dream.

Thought of the entire preparations

2007-05-18T01:08:00.001+05:30

Someone sent me this SMS

Becoming an IAS is like a woman delivering a baby.

Though everyone appreciates the outcome, no one actually knows how many times you were f***** :)

IT’S MAGIC, IT’S MAGIC

2007-05-12T11:31:00.000+05:30

UP elections, clean, without violence, without booth capturing, this certainly has to be magic. Election Commission (EC) has been touching new heights. First there were clean Bihar elections, then BJP had to declare that it ‘unequivocally condemns’ the communal CD and now this. EC is another face of India’s maturing polity.

Before TN Seshan, people hardly knew that EC had any powers. But after that there has been no looking back. Civil servants are certainly capable of delivering when they are giving sufficient freedom.

I can only say, ‘Be you ever so high, EC shall always be higher than you’.

Intoxicating

2007-05-08T11:55:00.000+05:30

Music can be intoxicating. I have felt a different kind of happiness, a peace of mind, as if this is the best moment of my life. I have no ambitions, no fears, only calmness, serenity. Recently discovered Mehndi Hasan and this ghazal. Simply awesome

भूली बिसरी चांद उम्मीदें, चंद फसाने याद आये
तुम याद आये और तुम्हारे साथ ज़माने याद आये

दिल का चमन शादाब था फिर भी ख़ाक सी उडती रहती थी
कैसे ज़माने एबा मे जाना तेरे बहाने याद आये

ठंडी सर्द हवा के झौंके आग लगा कर छोर गए
फूल खिले शाखों पे नए और दर्द पुराने याद आये

हंसने वालों से डरते थे, छुप छुप कर रो लेते थे
गहरी गहरी सोच में डूबे दो दीवाने याद आये

Listen it here

Three Questions :

2007-04-24T10:58:00.000+05:30

When do two people fall in love?
Every person has a perception of himself, or how he truly is. Then there is his perception in world, or how the world sees him. He may hide his true self or may not be able to project it to the world. But when someone else sees him in the way he sees himself , it is quite likely he will fall in love with that person.

Can a ‘normal’ person lead a complete life without having any interaction with the opposite sex( leave physical needs for a moment)
According to me no. It is similar to lock and key theory. Male and female are two distinct parts (if taken crudely) that fit in. They make a complete union only when they two meet. Physical union :-) can be seen by all, but what I am saying is there is also an emotional union which is complete only between a male and a female.

Can someone change his religion?
A person’s religion is not something that belongs only to himself, but it is a part of his cultural identity, a legacy that he gets from his family, his society, his upbringing. It is something similar to changing one’s past. So one may claim that his religion is his individual belief, but reality shall be quite different and if one cannot change his parents he cannot change his religion.

Dissentions invited......

My UPSC Interview

2007-04-10T13:48:00.002+05:30

These are the details of my interview here held on 4rth April 2007. I have tried to present the interview as it happened.

I was allotted a table along with four other candidates. It was a great solace to meet four other souls in same state of mind and butterflies in their stomach. We chatted and felt good. One hour passed quickly and I did not at all feel nervous.

A clerk came quietly to our table and said “Subir Dutta ka board hai”. Not all were amused by his name. Within minutes we found out he was a retired IAS, former defense secretary, and was ‘not very friendly’.

I was third to be interviewed. My heart was beating fast. I went near my chair and wished them Good Morning, wishing the lady member first. (It was a five member board with one lady member, let them be M1, M2, M3 and M4)

Subir Dutta: Sit down Mr. A
A: Thank you sir (Adapts an imposed smile on his face and gives a smile to all the members. They all have stern expressions)

Subir Dutta: So Mr. A you have done B. Tec in Mechanical Engg. from ……. (I take it as a cue for prompting)
A : IIT Kanpur Sir

Subir Dutta: You got this Outstanding B. Tech project award, what was it.
A : Explains it in brief and turns his head (somewhat like a table fan) to meet the eyes of all members

Subir Dutta: You have worked for six months in Asian Paints, why did you leave
A: Sir I always wanted to come for civil services but I wanted to get some work experience before coming here.

Subir Dutta: (looks interested) Why do you want to come to civil services?
A: Sir I learnt a lot in my engineering but I felt that my field is getting narrowed. I wanted to work not only among machines but also among human beings. Civil services offer an opportunity to work directly among people. Apart from this, it is a wonderful career opportunity with a motivation of working for the society.

Subir Dutta: And you also got this summer training scholarship form University of Stuttgart?
A : Yes sir.

Subir Dutta: When was it and for how long?
A: I explain…

M2: So how did you go?
A: Sir it was by Turkish airlines. I went to Istanbul and then to Stuttgart.

M2: Oh, so you did not take the traditional route from Frankfurt. This route must be cheaper.
A: Yes sir, this was the reason (a smile comes on my face)

M2: OK, what is the distance between Stuttgart and Frankfurt?
A: I think 200 km.

M2: Stuttgart and Berlin?
A: nearly 400 km

M2: Stuttgart and Bonn?
A: nearly 400 km

M2: Stuttgart and Hungary?
A: nearly 400 km.

Subir Dutta: Mr. A what are your 16th and 17th preference of services?
A: Sir they are IFS and IPS. I gave them this preference because I do not want to enter these.

Subir Dutta: Why?
A: Sir I have some family commitments and it shall be difficult for me to stay abroad for longer durations.
I did not fill IPS because I felt I do not have the right kind of temperament needed to be an IPS officer. I tried to know more about this service but I was not convinced. I felt if I still filled it, I shall be dishonest with myself and the service (this was a well rehearsed answer)

Subir Dutta: What is the total Income tax collected?
A: Sorry sir, I don’t know

Subir Dutta: (with a small sarcastic smile) I felt you did so much research while filling the service preferences, you would be knowing it.
A : (tries to maintain a smile on his face)

Subir Dutta gestures other members to ask their questions

M2: Mr. A, IIT’s were made to do some good research but that task has not been achieved what do you say?
A: Yes sir, this may partially be true. IIT’s were made primary for research but over the years it has been felt that the outcome is not as expected. The number of undergraduates is twice that that of postgraduates, and IIT’s could not attract students primarily for research purpose

M2: Do you think there is Brain Drain?
A: May be 20 years before there was, but not now.

M2: Define Brain Drain
A: I define it

M2: But we are using technologies invented in west. So where is this brain drain?
A: Yes sir that’s a valid point of view and we may also see things like this

Subir Dutta: Mr. A, I forgot to ask you one question. Some persons come to me with a BE degree some come with a B. Tech degree. What is the difference?
A: I explain (I had expected this so I gave the answer I found on internet)

Subir Dutta: (not very satisfied by my answer) What is the difference between engineering and technology?
A: Sorry sir, I do not know the literal difference.

M3: Mr. A, what is the temperament needed to be an IPS officer.
A: It shall be very difficult to define the temperament sir; it was more of a feeling. I tried to know more about the service but I was not convinced.

M3: So what did you try to know?
A: I read about IPS officers who had made name. I found that they all wanted to be in police from the beginning. Reverse was the case with me.

M3: And?
A: I have also done NCC for one year

M3: and you did not like it?
A: No sir, I liked and it was a very good experience. But something similar to this as a career preference. I feel my priorities lie somewhere else.

M3: Mr. A, we have these revenue services. But research has shown that 90% taxes are collected in pre assessment stage itself. These services help only in collecting 10% taxes. Why we should not abolish these services?
A: (I have no idea what to say) Sir but these services must be providing talented human resources which must be used for that pre assessment collection.

M3: In a way repeats his question
A: Sir I was unaware of this fact…..

M3: Yes it is a fact; government of India’s white paper has said this.
A: (I smile) May be sir even this 10% that these services collect is very important for the nation.

M3: (he also starts smiling) Ok

M4: Recently online degrees have been started by IIT’s. What is your opinion about them?
A: I support this by saying now the reach of education can be improved.

M4: Do you know any other western university doing this
A: No sir, I specifically do not know, but many must be doing it.

M4: MIT is doing it. Where is MIT?
A: Boston

M4: Yes Boston, Massachusetts.

M2: A, you have seen education system in Germany and India. What difference did you observe?
A: Sir education is free there, and government is trying to attract students from all over the world as their population is declining.

M2: What else?
A: I can’t remember anything else sir.

M2: They focus more on technical education.
A: Yes sir

M1: What do you know about “Specific Energy policy of India”
A: (I had never heard about it) Madam I do not know exactly what this is but I can tell about it.

M1: (she nods)
A: I tell all major things about energy, from power sector reforms to diversification to non conventional energy sources.

M1: Do you think Jatropa farming is successful
A: Yes maam (I explain with certain problems involved)

M2: What is virtual university?
A: (I could have easily guessed it but….) Sir may I guess??

M2: No, tell only if you know for sure.
A: Sorry sir I do not know.

M3: Mr. A the services you want to enter are the most corrupt services. What will you do to curb corruption?
A: I explain by specially mentioning to use technology.

M3: (with a smile) Use technology and problem would be solved?
A: Not sir (with a smile) but use technology more often, it will help.

Subir Dutta: Ok A, you can go now.

I thanked everyone, but I do not remember them smiling back at me. They all looked busy in themselves and I came out. All this happened in just 25 minutes!

I had this strange feeling, I did not think it went very good, I did not think it went bad. I was confident; I was smiling, so I am satisfied by my performance.

I do not exactly till date what went wrong. After all the speculations the verdict is known to me. It was not a very good interview and I scored a meagre 150. But there is a silver lining too. I scored 1139 in mains so could still manage 27th rank :)

It’s a wonderful life

2007-03-06T18:43:00.000+05:30

Each man's life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?

Orkut is not useless; it has many good things about it, specially for the ignorant souls. Still wondering how, so look at profiles, their favorite movies, books and you can find a hidden treasure there.

I found this movie, ‘It’s a wonderful Life’ in one of the profiles and believe me it is a gem. It makes you realize that indeed life is wonderful. Very few things in this journey called life remind us that we are actually enjoying it. This movie is one of those.

Life gives us sorrow, life gives us joy, and not an iota of it is worth missing. Do we really need to understand what is life, can’t it be just an experience. You enjoy it till you are and you won’t even know when you are gone.

Remember no man is a failure who has friends

Read more about it here

I, SHE and THEY

2006-10-21T12:55:00.000+05:30

(Disclaimer: All characters in this story are purely fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely co incidental.)

I say:

She is my girlfriend from eight years. No, none of my friends have met her. Actually I never wanted to. Reasons, OK I always felt that boys meet the girlfriends of their friends to see ‘kaisa maal pataya hai’. I know my friends are not like that but I could never get above this mentality.

But eight years is a long time. I had made up my mind to let them meet her at a suitable point of time.
So the occasion came when Rahul was giving treat of his new job. I was with her when I got the invitation from Rahul to join them.

Sometimes you work against your intuitions; I asked him if I can bring her there, no not alone, with one of her female friend. It was just a moment’s impulse, with no consequences pondered whatsoever. Rahul of course could not say no.

The thing I realized later was there were five friends, drinking! and a scapegoat to be butchered unwillingly at a five star hotel. So I knew that I was going to spoil their fun and increase the woes of the scapegoat by adding three more persons to the party at an expensive hotel.

No, I could not revert, the shot had been fired and I had to go with it.

She says:

I never understand why he insists on taking me to meet his friends. I feel that I am going there to be evaluated by his friends. The thought that all my moves are being watched and I am a showpiece scares me. I know I might be overreacting but if I need to ‘look good’, behave well, look interested and smile all the time, I turn uncomfortable.

Also why is he taking me to a five start hotel? His friends might feel that I came because they were at a five star. He himself knows that his chances of giving back a treat at a five star are minimal. I know that this thought has worried him and he himself is uncomfortable.

His friends will be drinking there. I turn uncomfortable at the sight of booze, and there I will have to look normal. He knows all this and I know he will become more restless than me. But I have to go with him, I have no other option.

They Say:

We do not have much to say. We only know that he is coming to this party with his girlfriend. We have to try hard so that the effect of booze does not get over our heads. Most of us will have to try hard to act normally in the presence of girls.

We dot not have any opinion on anything, let fate take care of it. But his girlfriend should not feel how strange friends he has……………

For any confusions hereafter, look at the disclaimer.

I LOVE MY INDIA

2006-05-29T09:42:00.000+05:30

I love my India
I sit in the general compartment of a train to go to a nearby town. Six persons sit on the seat of three, and six others stand in front. It’s hard to breathe and nature is not allowed to call you as some lucky persons always capture the toilets, the only space available with less human density. I see youngsters and elder men, using the filthiest language , with their teeth red chewing pan masala. I watch policemen and coolies distributing seats by taking/extorting money. You don’t need to die to go to hell. Most Indians travel like this!

**************************************************

I love my India.
I go to visit my grandparents who live in a town, a sub urban town. The bus takes five hours to complete a journey of sixty kilometers, courtesy shining India roads. Being well off, my grandparents have all appliances which add luxury to your life like TV and fridge. But average electricity supply is around eight hours. I think about the growth rate of our infrastructure. Nearly eighty percent India live at such places, and worse !

**************************************************

I love my India.
I read the morning newspaper and find the decision of a court case I have been following since years, a boy, son of an IAS officer threw acid on the face of a girl. The court and police, after struggling hard discover that evidence is not sufficient to punish the boy. In the meantime, the boy has completed a professional course and is doing a job. The girl’s father has spent his entire savings in her treatment and the court case. The girl is nearly OK, only lost her one eye and has incurable injuries on her face. The girl loses the case and I lose hope. This the fate of most cases !

**************************************************

I love my India
Nearly after sixty years of independence, our politicians unanimously discover that they need to do ‘social justice’. They reserve half the seats for backward castes. They turn deaf towards an issue called academic excellence or merit. Providing assistance at primary level and allowing them to run along with other classes does not attract votes so they hand over the crutches of reservation, first at graduation level, then at post graduation level and then in job. Students fight but most of us know what shall be the fate of their struggle !

**************************************************
What is India, the one growing at eight percent or one waiting to get drinking water, India seeing the software boom, posh molls or India where farmers commit suicides and Sati is glorified. What is India, an emerging superpower, or one doomed by politicians. Till you decide, I will keep on saying I love my India.

Proud of Our democracy

2006-05-26T13:46:00.000+05:30

Two events involving our political leaders took place nearly side by side. One was marriage of Lalu Yadav’s daughter; the other was the sad demise of Pramod Mahajan.

Though both were simple events, common to the life of any society, but they conveyed a special message. Leaders cutting across party lines were present in both. The bitterness of politics was nowhere to be seen in Nitish Kumar blessing the daughter of Lalu or Sonia Gandhi giving condolences to Pramod Mahajan They must have criticized each other severely in public debates, thrown abuses, charged each other of corruption, yet they all realize the difference between personal life and professional life. Isn’t it democracy, to have ideological differences, to criticize policies, yet being together in times warranting it.

The magic of democracy is that though the surface looks turbulent full of clashes and differences, the stream is calm at depth, accommodating all conflicting views, giving space to everyone according to his hold on society. Every contender identifies the legitimacy of those in power owing to the public support and thus avoiding any bitterness, a virtue which can never be implanted in any dictatorship.

This is certainly a good sign of healthy Indian democracy, an institution in which issues are contested, not human beings.

A Random Diary

2006-05-26T13:42:00.000+05:30

I sit here, idle, alone, thinking about future, thinking about past……thinking about life. I think about my family, I think about my friends…..about all those moments. Moments filled with success, failures. I think about how things will shape up. I feel hopeful, I feel doomed. I know past is gone and I know no one knows the future.
At times I feel lonely but this phase will pass and I know I will look back and cherish these days.

*******************************************************************

My prelim exam is tomorrow. So many friends have called me to say best of luck. I do not know whether I liked it or not, I felt strange. They made me realize that something important was coming up, and those two hours mattered. I am not restless, but I don’t know how to react.
I was thinking why my friends called me and I felt all of us are alone. We all need occasions to talk to, to feel that we are together, in this new real world, out of IIT.

*******************************************************************

The Exam is over. I feel it did not go well but I know I have fared better than others. My mind is never ready to believe that I will not succeed. I feel excited, life looks changed and I have to get ready for another assignment.

*******************************************************************

Today I got the news that my paper is cancelled. And everyone consoled me ‘so what your exam did not go very well, its good for you. But I knew I would have qualified and now I shall have to waste another one month. I am not depressed.
I have the gut feeling that I will get through all these…I have to.

*******************************************************************
Met my maternal grandparents today, nearly after two years.
They are old, and whenever I meet them, I have the feeling that this may be our last meeting. I remember the times when summer holidays used to be fun, only because of them, because of the kite, the cold water from well, the ride of a bullock cart, getting up with the sunrise and smell of morning air. Life looked bliss and all I wanted was that my summer vacations never end.
Now things have changed, so have aspirations. These things no longer fascinate me. I do not know whether I love my grandparents or not, but they long to see me, and that makes me feel guilty that why I do not feel for them

Don’t read it

2006-04-20T18:44:00.000+05:30

(unless you are utterly idle)

Got it. There was a car, in the garden……..behind the bars, in the jargonized world, along with children’s emergency fund.

With hot boiling water and bread and sickle or something with senses and without reason with a blank…………….out of calm.

Another try, do it now, just now, just now, just now, already three times, this is four, okay you know how to count.

Furbishing this, with flamboyance, idiot you don’t even know the meanings of these.

Kya soch tha, koi matlab niklega iska (read the title again)

An Obscure (love) story

2006-04-17T14:30:00.000+05:30

(Help: HE= He, never pal
Pal= Pal and never He
I have been enough crticised for confusions, :-) )

It all happened in a day.

He loved her (as had been declared by him) and she (……perhaps) loved him….not yet declared. And then there was this ‘friendship’ clause. Formally.

It was compromise that they had reached some days before. He had proposed her and then he ran away, not asking her response, not letting her respond. When an awkward uneasiness entered their relationship, she came and said ‘Can’t we just be friends’. Just! No it was not at all just from his side, but they agreed.

There was another character in this plot. A pal of his, a pal of her. Both used to communicate through him as eyes were found incapable at times, mostly when there was that special (mis)understanding.

He had a problem, that a pal was meant only to communicate with her and nothing else and she had a problem that pal was a pal, and you need pals at times. Then there was this long gap when the pal went out, I mean out of city. She missed him because she missed a pal and he (not much) missed him because he missed the link of communication. He was (privately) enjoying it as she was talking to him more often and he wished to eliminate this loop of pal.

It was ok till she started longing for this pal and became sad and wished the pal would call him on phone. He was not perturbed by anything but strangely when she became sad, he became restless. So that day he decided to play Good Samaritan, called this pal, asked him to talk to her, not letting her know he asked for it.

She was really happy, happy at the special ‘bond’ she had with this pal, the pal ‘felt’ that she wanted to talk to the pal the pal called her. What a good coincidence. Of course she told him all this in detail, and how happy she was.

But he had again this problem. He was not perturbed by anything but strangely when she became happy (without any reason involving him), he became restless. So he decided to play Bad Samaritan and he told her that he had asked the pal to call her.

So it all had this (ugly) ending. Both of them never talked about it later. You may not call it ending.

The ‘friendship’ clause was removed after some days.

The pal remained a pal.

The urge to communicate

2006-04-04T11:20:00.000+05:30

It is perhaps the greatest dilemmas of mankind. Man is always looking for someone to talk. The reason I am writing this, is that I want to communicate. But I have hardly any idea what.

You ask me how I am, or the question patented for me these days 'How is your preparation going' I will always give the same answer. I won't ever say I am bad, nor will I say that my preparation is not OK. I do not blame the person who asks me. I know it is because of their urge to communicate.

The dilemma comes when we have this urge and we don't know what to talk. If the person you are talking to is from fairer sex, then it is a different ball game. But for our normal considerations, let's take the case of naïve, harmless, aimless communicator, the communicator of my type. I know if you are reading this, you belong to this category.

At times there is guilt. When we think about our aim in life, our worth and time being precious, this communication looks futile. But take it from me it is a noble quality, to talk, to gossip. No one gave me a penny for my 'precious' time but I have derived eternal bliss from many pointless discussions. Puritans would like to know its advantage but I say who cares. I have enough time in life to waste in useless talks.

I know this blog hardly makes a sense but I cannot resist my urge :-)

Waiting…….to Graduate

2006-04-04T11:18:00.000+05:30

Do not confuse it with the degree. I have one. My problem is something else.

In my high school, I discovered that I had grown. I was no longer a kid. I looked back at myself and thought what a child I was. I could look at the world with a different perspective. I felt the change in my parents, in my relatives in the way they took me. Then I thought how great it would feel to graduate.

I had dreams of growing big, having an identity….. a mature identity. When I looked at others who were in their twenties, I felt that was actually the time when someone's life begins. But that was not to be.

Today I feel that my mental growth stopped somewhere in between. I think exactly like I thought in class X. The way the world looked then, it's exactly the same. It is the same obsession for girls, same complexes, same envy, and same fears. I bet had I been writing this blog then, it would have been exactly the same. It is the same way I adulated 'biggies' and always felt to be a lesser mortal.

I do not know when I will 'graduate'. If I try to feel within myself that I am in my twenties I am scared. At this stage, I dread maturing.

Happy, to be alive……

2006-04-04T11:16:00.000+05:30

At times I have this feeling, how great it is to be alive. To feel the joy, to feel the pain, to feel……

I do not want to discover the truth of life, its aim, its purpose. I have no interest in any of the philosophical questions. Those who uncover the questions of life do not know how great it is to be a lesser mortal. I have no desire to be on top of this world. I do not want to run. I want to sit back and see this world passing by. I want to laugh, I want to cry, I want to talk, I want to listen, I want to be foolish, I want to be a child. I just want to live……

Stoic at will…..

2006-04-04T11:14:00.000+05:30

I am perturbed. I know this phase will go and I will be back in chores of my daily life.

Today again I read about Jesicca case in newspaper. To add pain to my worried mind, there was the case of Priyadarshini Mattoo, raped and murdered. Her 68 year old father is still carrying on the fight in the case. The 'Judge' says that he is sure that the convict is guilty but he cannot do anything because of lack of 'evidence'. A lady is shot dead in Lucknow because she dared to protest against the lewd remarks of some goons. System turns out to be helpless because they are connected to party in power.

In Kanpur acid in thrown on a girl's face. The court finds no one guilty because her old father cannot 'pursue' the case as vigorously as the convict's family can. A person who dies lays in rest but a girl who has to see her face everyday in the mirror…..I have no words.

This is the price to be civilized. I praise the laws of Saudi Arabia where there is an eye for an eye. I am an animal. My heart will be at peace only when the person guilty goes through the same agony as the victim does. I imagine someone shooting the convict just outside the court as soon as he is declared 'innocent'.

How can anyone worship God, what will you tell the 68 year old man, the girl with a burnt face. Tell them that this was the punishment of sins of their earlier lives, or they will be repaid in their next birth.

Remain calm till you are not the victim and convince yourself by non existing logic. Lip service is all we can do.
I know I will forget everything soon till I read another case in newspaper. Then again I will get frustrated, curse the system, feel pity at my impotence and move on.

I am a stoic at will……..so you are.

Disclaimer

2006-03-09T08:56:00.000+05:30

Disclaimer: All views expressed in this blog are personal and do not represent any organization whatsoever. The contents of the blog may or may not be true. I take care not to infringe copyrights but in case of any violation, kindly let me know. I am not responsible either for the content present on the websites to which I have linked, or for other people’s comments on my blog. If you observe anything objectionable, let me know and it shall be removed.

This blog is completely a non commercial venture. The contents of this blog are my copyright. They may be quoted but you must provide a link to the original article. In case entire article is to be published, please seek my permission.

2006-03-07T14:07:00.000+05:30

Why do I like to write blogs?
Because I can put my point without listening to others :-)

2006-03-07T14:03:00.000+05:30

Stunned, Shocked, Shaken……………and Wise

This is what I am feeling now, oh! Forgot to tell you, just finished ‘Atlas Shrugged’…..my first encounter with a philosophical novel, rather philosophy...

Could I understand it?…..cannot say, so do not ask me if I agree with the philosophy or not. But one thing is sure; it has shaken all my premises, the way to look at world.

Who is John Galt?
If I try to sum up what the novel means to me it may be following…..
1. Living for oneself i.e. a man can be in his natural self (and thus happy) only when his behavior is determined by no external influence of society.
2. Being free of guilt; of being selfish, of seeking pleasure, of being oneself. And of course, no guilt of animal desire…you got it, sex. Do not look always for moral sanction. That is the tool of world to tame men.
3. Living for sake of ‘life’ not for sake of living. It’s the zeal of your work that drives us, to be happy, to give your best.
4. It is the ‘doer’ who moves the world, not the ‘thinker’. Action and its result is the only truth which can be proved.
5. The political message; Socialism versus Capitalism…….Marx said "From everyone according to his ability, to everyone according to his need". Ayn Rand has flouted this hypothesis of Marx. According to her, it forces people to compete for incompetence as the incompetent is benefited most by this hypothesis.

I am still struggling to find out what message the novel conveys. I have a feeling that its pity and mockery of a great work that I could take out only this much from it, but these are my limitations. I cannot help mentioning two lines from the novel ……….
"Who is the most depraved type of human being?
The man without a purpose"

"There is an unspeakable evil in the world, you know it and there is no use dwelling on details of it. You must work a little harder. Just a little harder. Don’t let it win"

2006-02-28T10:11:00.000+05:30

Ripples.......

Thodi si zameen, thoda aasman
Tinkon ka bas, ek aashiyana

Lost in this world, I want my share of ‘thodi si zameen’

Life is strange and I feel that I will never be able to understand it. What is sufficient for me, why am I here. I just want to be happy and that is my ultimate aim in life. I want to dissolve myself in the magic of life. To do what I feel like, to taste everything, to feel the colors, to live, to be happy. I am restless to be where I belong to. But I do not know the path, perhaps no one does.

When will I reach my destination?

2006-02-17T13:50:00.000+05:30

14.02.2006 that’s VALENTINE’s DAY

I being the sole interpreter, arbiter and enforcing authority of Hinduism hereby proclaim that no one henceforth shall be allowed to celebrate Valentine’s Day. Anyone found guilty of celebrating it shall be duly punished by my law enforcers who will be assuming special responsibility on this day. My laws enforcers shall be free to vandalize shops, misbehave and punish any erring couple whom they think appropriate for punishment.

Entire year no one remembers me but I deserve my due share in national dailies.

We live in Hindustan and we have a culture. Only I can understand what our culture is and I have assumed the special responsibility of preserving it. Matters of beliefs and faith are above our constitution or any law of land. Our land prohibits the couples to meet, express love and ruin their future. When a girl ruins her future herself, it brings shame to her family. But parents follow the due customs of caste, dowry to legitimize marriage. Only parents shall have the right of ‘ruining’ her life.

All these days are from ‘fauran’ culture. My culture has taught me to preserve it by taking obscene processions, using idiot mobs for creating nonsense and giving some work to otherwise idle yet enlightened youths.

To remove any confusion, it is stated that no argument against me shall be correct, or deserved to be heard as I am the only person who knows what is right for you idiots.

(……………………Still I don’t understand why my law enforcers change party when they get a girlfriend……may be there is a fauran conspiracy)

2006-02-14T10:44:00.000+05:30

Black- I saw it today, that’s 13th Feb. 2006.

No reviews……….. Just how I am feeling right now….

Poignancy, of being alone, in the darkness
Locked…….in mind…….in oneself
Suffocation……
Melancholy……pain……
empathy…..
for others…..for myself
Sense of being unknown……. to world…….
miseries…..feelings……..life
Desperation to communicate
Communicate………what you really want to…
…………….To be understood
Beauty of life…...
colors…... dreams…..music
Happiness……smile……..
love

Optimism……….

2006-02-11T10:14:00.000+05:30

Feeling Heavy, Feeling Light

(How I am feeling after leaving the job....….)

I am miserable……
What have I one to myself? Placed myself entirely at the mercy of fate.

Life cannot be so difficult everywhere. I am attending coaching seven days a week. And what I will do when the coaching ends. One cannot study 24*7 that also when the result shall come after one and half years later. The routine seems eternal. Adding to my misery UPSC offers only handful of seats. A failure can lead to a ruin.

It is scary. There is no money in my pocket, no certainty in life. I am feeling terrible, all my friends are moving ahead and I feel like losing the race.

I had a good job…… at least others said so. I was having good money and the feeling of having a secure future. I have left the job, I will be spending my years here and what if…..

I am calm. I am satisfied……

This is what I wanted to do. This is where I want to take my life. I could not lead my life with guilt that I never had the courage to do what I wanted.

I love these things; I know I am interested in these. I have seen some of the most wonderful persons.......... persons whom I would like to emulate while leading my life. First time in my life I am feeling that I am gaining something.........the feeling of being a rebel, not led by hordes. Life cannot be lead according to dictums dictated by this world.

Others cannot decide what the right path is for me.

I am not a prisoner in someone else’s life.