“Teri Kah ke lunga..........”

Odd it may sound and vulgar it may read but Anurag Kashyap’s directed film Gangs of Wasseypur punch line is garnering publicity and increasingly used colloquially among the masses. The maverick Director maintains that there’s no double meaning attached to it. Okay, I don’t say it either. There’s is nothing offensive about it but neither is it official. You must be thinking who I, to make such remarks, am? Well, I am the “Common Man” and the victim of the flip side of the phrase. The slang aspect of the phrase seems to be so evident everywhere around me. These were unsaid words, but existing in practise, until Kashyap choose to say it bluntly.

I am a government employee with middle class earning whose aspirations are totally dependent on Provident fund and other gratuities. I take bus to my office everyday at 9 am and the same bus to my home at 6 pm. I am oddly placed in the vicissitude of the hierarchy of society where I am compelled to live by the rules the state decides. I belong to the most vulnerable section that has to think beyond square meals and cannot afford to remain indifferent to the rising prices. I cannot afford to be as shabby as the poor, social questioning hinders, or as prodigal as the rich, earning is a constraint. My life is so predictable yet can’t do anything about the uninvited odds.

One odd morning I missed my bus. Reaching office on time was a priority. Seeing the watch I realised that I am almost late as it was fifteen minutes to nine. I can’t wait for the next bus so going against my daily quota of travelling expense I decided to hire an auto rickshaw. Moving to the auto stand I asked the auto driver to take me to Krishi Bhawan, my office. I was surprised to hear the unreasonable fare from him. I asked him go by meter tariff. He declined. I moved to another one, a witness to the scene standing nearby, who too choose to go by the same amount of fare. Irked at their stubbornness I dropped the idea of hiring any auto standing at the auto stand. Standing by the road side I waited for unreserved autos passing by. After waiting for a while I looked back to the ones standing at the auto stand with a plea in my eyes but I was responded by a mockery in their eyes. They all seem to be united in their spirit “Teri kah ke lunga”.

Finally, next bus towards my workplace arrived. It was fully crowded, not even an inch to stand in. Still I dared to venture inside. Somehow I managed to hang by its door handles and some space on its steps to rest my feet. My face was repeatedly boxed by the elbow of the one standing in front of me. I requested him to watch his movements. I was relied rudely, “Dikkat hai to aagey chale jao”. Aware of the fact that I can’t move inside I bore in patience the next 20 minutes of boxing. Every time the elbow hit my face I saw it coming and then after hitting the unsaid phrase echoed in my ears “Teri kah ke lunga”. I was reminded of Saurav ganguly, averse to short pitched rising deliveries, who too got hit repeatedly and him staying helpless. I believe he must also have heard it again and again from Shoaib Akhtar , “Teri kah ke lunga”.

As I reached office my senior choose to visit my desk. Oh God! The devil was here. He could have seen me by calling in his cabin. I guess his intentions were not noble. And so it happened, he lambasted me for arriving late. Bloody hell! I am not a school kid whom you can yell at for missing the assembly prayer. As if the reason was not proving sufficient for him he choose to bring my inefficiencies too, publicly.

Sometime later in the day I was called to my Boss’ cabin.  A week ago I was assigned the drafting of a project proposal. The noting was to be made by the Director of the department, my boss. Then it was to be sent to the ministry for approval. The file returned from the ministry without being approved. The comments attached to the proposal pointed serious discrepancies in the project. One being the missing noting. At this juncture I must tell you that the noting made by the Director is instrumental in approval of any projects. One can say that it is an appraisal at the directorial level before it is moved to concern Minister. To save himself from the embarrassment and instead of taking onus of the mistake he considered it opportune to lay the blame on me. Speaking to the Minister over phone he answered by stating it a clerical error. And the next five minutes I heard him say it again and again, both in active and passive voices, that he will penalise the clerk. And so it happened the moron raped me in the next twenty minutes. It was nothing short of a holocaust conducted by the Nazis in 1930s, questioning my vey presence in the department.

Never before was I as sure about my feelings as I was at this moment. All I wanted was to run a dagger into his intestine with the frequency of 3 Mbps. If there was some instrument to measure my hatred, I am sure I would be reading much higher than that of Shylock, the Jew, who hated Antonio. But here the situation was different my boss was all guns blazing at me. I was reprimanded for the act which I was not completely responsible for. “Wo toh bas meri le raha tha”.Oh Ganesha! What a real bad day it was turning out to be? Daruwala, what more is in store for me?

It struck 6 in the evening and it was time to leave for home. Boarding a bus in the evening time is like doing an Amarnath yatra where conditions are difficult but the spirit is high (due to the desire to reach home). Standing in the bus presents you with an array of smells in a sweated environment where people stand with the help of support suspended from the ceiling of the bus thus leaving their armpit exposed. The buses in usual are jam packed. Even then the conductor makes the bus stop at every stand calling out for passengers to board in. In the process he does not announces the upcoming stations rather “Yeh dil maange more more and more”. The passengers travelling inside, who choose to protest, are looked up with a reply in his eye, “Teri toh kah ke lunga, main”

The phone in my pocket rang. Oh! It is my wife. She is a worry invited forever. I never wanted to get married so early. I detested the idea of seeing a girl for marriage but my parent were hell bent on me settling down once I got employed. I remember the day before marriage we met to know each other. One look and I was completely floored by her beauty but only to realize it post marriage that it was wonder of L’oreal products. “Ab jawaan ladka ko toh har ladki acchi lagti hai, so mujhe bhi ye bha gayi aur hum ‘naa’ nahi bol sake.”   Life is a list of priorities and et cetera but post marriage the et cetera becomes the priority of life.

I picked up the phone to hear a list of things to be taken home. Getting down from the bus I strolled towards the sabji mandi. Standing at the vendor’s stall I didn’t feel like asking for prices. Moreover I could not see any fresh vegetables. In fact they seemed to be discarded wholesale bought at nominal price and now being sold at market retail price. Picking up the basket I started sorting out the good one for me. The vendor objected on the pretext that it is a time consuming affair and he has other customers in waiting. I had to give in to his direction as going to other vendor meant paying higher prices. United they stood in their attitude against customers, “Teri kah ke lunga”.

Finally the Home sweet home. Everything was sweet about it except the complaining wife. As I was ascending the steps I heard a voice calling from back. It was my landlord.

He said, “Where are you slipping in quietly.”

Bloody leech! Why this bastard does have to show his face right now?

Concealing my real emotions, I replied, “Oh no, Sir, It’s just been a tough day for me”.

“It is first day of the month and I was expecting the rent from you” He said.

Reaching out for my wallet I took out the money I had withdrew from the ATM for rent and handed over ten red Gandhis to him. He counted them, licking his fingers. 

After counting he looked up and said, “It’s almost a year now and I want a 10% hike from your side”.

Moron didn’t say it before asking for the monthly advance rent. Avoiding him I started climbing the stairs and said, “Okay, will think over it”.

Pat came the reply, “I am serious about it. Either pay more or vacate the premises”.

His tone suddenly charged me up. I climbed the floor briskly, kept the stuff in the living room and headed directly to the agent dealing in rented flats. In the next one hour I moved around the locality with him on his Bajaj Pulsar exploring various options. Every time I visited a new flat he quoted higher price than the previous one. I requested to negotiate but he was relentless. Add to that he demanded a 75% commission of the rent. The writing was clear on the wall; take it or move. Losing all my charge, I considered it wise to concur to the demand of my landlord in meek submission. Walking back I wondered why the Delhi government does not do anything for soaring rents. I realized, why will they do anything for the tenants most of whom are migrant from other states who do not possess the voting right here. They are just silent witness to the plight of people.

After having my dinner I sat in front of TV swapping news channels. For next ten minutes I heard them all say Scams, Scandals, Rising Inflation, Oil price hike, falling stock prices, Investors losing confidence, status quo in the case of terrorist prosecution. Suddenly, I was poked in my stomach, burning with acidity after having oily dinner, by my wife to give her the TV remote. I had to yield.

Lying on the bed I thought of the day and many more similar days to come. Is it that I have turned in to a cynical idiot or actually the struggle for common man is unprecedented? It struck midnight and the pendulum on the clock rang and said, “Main Samay hun, tumhari barabar leta rahunga............”

Baton Of Suo Moto Responsibility

It is very easy to enjoy the warmth of one’s nest. Peeping out of the nest is like being aware of empirical facts yet choosing to be indifferent to it. But it takes a lot to transform oneself from being just a silent witness to the relay runner with the baton of change or reform. Pardon me for being truthful to the extent of bluntness. But I can’t hold myself back from calling one numb to the change around if he is not acting ecologically and is thus not a living being.

Allowing the things to continue as they are in cases where its continuance is a hindrance to development is like total subjection the situation. In this way one is allowing the miscreant to continue his dominance (social, psychological, economic and ideological) and arbitrariness unabated.

Indian societies where ignorance is the norm, forget about attaining a certain intellectual level, it becomes imperative on the part of intelligentsia in such situations to spring into action against such elements. The action need not be revolutionary outbreak or spearheading any movement. It can be a direct discussion and dialogue through government’s own devised methods. Some political parties or coalition for that matter after assuming governance had been hypocrite to the extent of passing laws, setting up machinery against corruption and maladministration and yet violating them all themselves with impunity.

One of the prime reasons for it is inaction on the part of educated citizens. Judging people’s representatives by their self proclaimed standards make things easier for citizens. They can be trapped in their own mesh of promises, provided we do so.

Right to information and Social Audit is one such important an potent weapon in that direction and that is the reason that off late politicians are trying to dilute its provisions.

Having said that, the possibility of the above envisaged action can be easily played down stating the insignificance of contribution made by one individual alone. I have an answer to them. Your contribution may be too insignificant to make a desired change but it may inspire some other to take the baton from where you leave. We all have the fires burning within. The point here is that who chooses to act first. So, be the one who reflect the aspirations of the society and who equally influences the society.

Its 11 and the question looms large

Eleven years have passed since the State of Jharkhand has been carved out of its mother state Bihar. Though the demand for Jharkhand state was old as the Indian independence it only saw the dawn of the day as late as 15 November 2000. The past decade has seen it all except the light of the day. In the wake of demand for new states elsewhere (Purvanchal, Paschim Pradesh, Bundelkhand, Awadh Pradesh, Telangana, Vidarbha and Gorkhaland) it brings me to a situation of analysis of what good the division has done to Jharkhand.

The Jharkhand movement revolved around Jharkhandi identity, which disadvantaged societal groups articulated in order to augment political resources and influence the policy process in their favour. The Jharkhandi identity and the demand for autonomy was not premised solely on the uniqueness of its tribal cultural heritage, but was essentially a fallout of the failure of development policy to intervene in socio-economic conditions of both the adivasis and non-adivasis in the region.

When the daughter state was carved out of Bihar, its residents had expected it to emerge as one of the most developed state of India, till date an unfulfilled desire. The facts speak for it.

Almost all the national highways in the state, except NH 2, are in bad shape. It takes almost two hours to cover 60 km on NH 33 (Jamshedpur-Tamar) despite repeated government announcements to make the stretch crater-free. The state has failed to add a single mega watt to power generation. When Jharkhand was formed, it had three state-owned power plants. In 10 years, the state has not built one. Similarly, in healthcare, the promise of 24x7 health centres in rural area has remained on paper only.
There has been some improvement in education after the state got a Central University and an IIM in Ranchi. But these have failed to stop migration of students. On an average, more than 100,000 students migrate for degree and professional courses. Lack of development in the far-flung areas, despite the state’s 11% GDP growth in 2010-11, has allowed Maoists to gain traction in Jharkhand. The state has shown relatively lower economic growth in the past decade. The compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of its Gross State Domestic Product (GSDP) for 2000-01 to 2009-10 has been 11.33% compared to 12.54% in other general-category states.

Though the state has witnessed about 7% economic growth but considering the huge boom in mining over the past decade, Jharkhand should have done much better. Whereas Chhattisgarh had an average of 8.8% and Uttarakhand was rocketing up at 10.8%. Uttarakhand has tapped its vast hydro potential to become a seller of power to northern grid while Chhattisgarh has opened up its mineral resources for exploitation in a big way.

During the tenure 2001-02 to 2010-11 food grain production has dipped by a massive 19% in spite of the fact that agriculture is the mainstay of the majority of the population and food grain the most widely cultivated crops.

On the employment front out of the 39.6% registered households for MGNREGA only 10.9% have been given jobs. Though there has been some improvement in the number of primary and upper primary schools leading to its effective literacy rate rising from 54% in 2001 to 68% in 2011. The infant Mortality rate has declined from 70 in 2000 to 44 in 2009.

Naxalism continues to be a menace in the state playing upon the grievances of the tribals. Political instability has been the feature of the state and the government was marred by various scams and corruption.

If creation of a smaller state was the justification provided for the development of this part of the former state Bihar then it has certainly failed to give it an expression. And the one question that looms large is that where do we from here?

From the pages of Delhi chapter

As dawn breaks I wake up to stretch myself to the four corners of my bed making an attempt to conquer every part of it. I do not shy away from confessing the fact that before splashing water on my face or reaching out for my toothbrush I login to my Facebook account to check updates and latest reaction to my posts. Yes, you read it right, I am an attention seeker.

I found a heady update of 24 September DeNobili alumni, Delhi meet. After travelling to Bangalore, Singapore, London, Pune the meet was finally in my city and Kolkata simultaneously. One body and its simultaneous presence at two places (Delhi & Kolkata)! That’s the uniqueness of this alumni body. You name the place and the nobilians are there. Their spread throughout the length and breadth of the country and overseas seems to be similar to my early morning stretch.

Suddenly there was spring in my steps and I can relate my excitement retrospectively to the period when I studied at DeNobili. Back then, each day was a special one and so did I feel it today. As if I was getting ready for my school. As I drove my way to the venue I had relived every part of my school days, recalling every sweet and sweet incidents (nothing bitter to remember) yet couldn’t get enough.

However, large in number students gather they cannot make a school without a teacher and vice versa. So was the feature of this meet. Our fellow nobilian organizer had taken care of this vitality. The occasion was to be graced by the presence of two of our former school teachers. I can recall that they were the most feared one for being their strict disciplinarian and I attribute the discipline in my life to her effort. They were the same English teachers who were most emulated too for their distinguished diction and I must tell you that I copied their accent to the core, while at school. And today it’s reality of my diction and brevity.

As I reached the venue I marveled to find an alumnus of 1965 batch. After talking to him for a while I sensed the classic touch in his English that is so rare today. I wished if we had devised some ways to preserve the dialect. The next few moments saw the presence of alumni from the 1979 batch and their immediate juniors. After learning about their occupation I had another moment to feel proud of my alma mater. They all had something distinguished and distinct about themselves and yet so related with a selfless bond; DeNobili.

And then there were arrivals of alumni from 1990s, the era of ShahRukh, Salman, Akshay Kumar and Suniel Shetty’s. I remember it very fondly they were the heroes of my school when I was in my primary. I can relate them to their every activity and corner of school to which as a junior I witnessed. They too were an important part of growing days of my peers and me. They just couldn’t thank their fortune enough to see an old mate and for the next few moments my ears heard it repeatedly around “Saaley, tum bhi ho yahan”. There was a strange kind of relatedness and emotions oozing out. “Kabke bichde kaha aa ke mile!”.

And finally the moment came to which all of us were waiting eagerly. The arrival Ma’am Meera Varma. It was a slight letdown not to see Ma’am Rashmi Ashtikar who couldn’t make it due to some unavoidable circumstances.

Mrs Verma ma’am was soon surrounded by all of us very much like school kids waiting eagerly for their turn of handful sweets. And indeed we did get it in the form of pat on the cheek and a hug which was so much full of warmth and love. “God! We still have a guide to look up to”. And as we all touched her feet there were blessings unlimited. I realized that this sign of reverence has certainly something to do with the teachings we had in school which keeps our morality and ethics intact till date.

The next few hours filled the atmosphere in the hall with mixed emotions; mirth, laughter, nostalgia and a hidden wish to return to school days. Everyone present there, shared their experiences of being a nobilian and life thereafter. There were some jovial narrations of funny school incidents too. At another such narration a nobilian told us that how his married life went through a bad patch over his insistence to his son be admitted to DeNobili alone rather anywhere else.

As our talks progressed we moved on to a commitment to maintain this association and meet at regular intervals. There were some smart pieces of advice too to the proposed idea. One such being was getting registered as a society.

And it did not end it here. This alumni body has been growing in leaps and bounds in last few years in terms of connectivity and strength where the members share a common bond and pride of being a Nobilian, essentially a selfless association with each other. Few of us nobilians share the belief that if this huge group is directed towards any particular cause like the pressing problems of hunger and education in India, we will be a force to reckon with. Being educated in the best of environment we can contribute significantly to the society. “Where there is righteousness and selflessness in heart there is beauty in character; when there is a beauty in character there is harmony in the home. When there is harmony in the home, there is order in the society. When there is order in the society there is peace in the Nation”- Tamil poet. As we presented this idea in the meet we garnered support and encouragement which has led us to a conviction to initiate.

It was followed by a delicious dinner served in a typical Dilliwallah taste. The menu ranging from Chicken saagwallah to mouth watering malaikofta and Dal Makhani. As all good things come to an end it was closure call for the ceremony too. I can see that everyone in the hall wanted this moment to freeze, unwilling to get back to their normal course of life. And as I am driving back home this déjà vu is still to sink in.

YAARI YAARI BAILGADI

W hen Vincent Van Gogh (Dutchpost-Impressionist painter )cut off his ear, there were several interpretations offered for this morbid act of self destruction. Gauguin (French Post-Impressionist artist) was living with Van Gogh in his home at that time in the small town of Arles. Gauguin influenced Van Gogh to paint from thought instead of using live subjects placed right in his line of vision. Gauguin played a key role in moulding and shaping some of Van Gogh's style during his productive years at Arles.

History is rife with examples of such men and women of great talent who have been inspired by such friends. Sometimes such friendship has a catalytic influence to hasten progress in their chosen field of excellence.

The friendship of Henry Ford and Thomas Edison is a case in point. Thomas Edison had the chance of meeting Ford at a dinner banquet of Generic Electric where Ford was a young engineer. Thomas Edison was greatly impressed with Ford's car designs and his support and encouragement went a long way in the making of Ford's historic success in the auto industry.

Ford and Edison remained inseparable friends. After Ford became a wealthy industrialist, he convinced Edison to participate in a lot of technical and scientific projects. As friends, they also spent vacations and camping trips together. Ford even moved next door to Edison. Their estates were separated by a wooden fence but the gate always stood open and became known as the “friendship gate”. Edison, who was quite a bit older than Ford, became confined to a wheel chair later in life. Ford, who was active and in good health, purchased a wheel chair for himself and together they both would race around the grounds in their wheel chairs.

Ford celebrated the 50^th anniversary of the light bulb by establishing the Edison Institute. Later at the Banquet hall celebration, Edison played a tribute to Ford, saying, “I can only say that, in the fullest meaning of the term, he is my friend.”

Great business minds such as Bill Gates and Warren Buffett have come together, driven by mutual commitment to the common goal of philanthropy. Gates was persuaded by his mother to be present for a meeting in 1991 which Warren Buffet also attended. Gates, though initially reluctant, hit it off immediately with Buffet. At Buffett's behest, Gates read the World Development Report, published by the World Bank that analysed poverty levels around the world. This sparked his intense interest in philanthropy and together Bill Gates and Warren Buffet have spearheaded the effort of spreading the notion of Corporate Philanthropy across the world.

Some of the greatest mentors in eastern cultures have been teachers. The teacher-pupil relationship can be very special and significant enough to be life changing. Many a time great teachers are always on the lookout for a protégé as in the case of the famous Sufi poet Jalalludin Rumi. Rumi was born into wealth, power and high society. Shams was a powerful spiritual wanderer looking for a grand master student. Their association changed Rumi's life forever. Rumi went from a somewhat scholarly personality to an impassioned seeker of truth and divine love. Shams' sudden disappearance caused Rumi great grief and during the next couple of decades he became known as a great mystical poet. His message of universality resonates to this day.

Friendships between people takes on a different hue in Eastern cultures. The ease of familiarity with a best buddy translates to a different dynamic of speech and behaviour, one which may seem strange and unfamiliar to the Western world. Men can be seen on the streets of India walking about with their arms around each others' shoulders. There is more intimacy, both physical and verbal, between friends without sexuality being a factor. What is socially acceptable behaviour in the East is perplexing and maybe even suspicious to Western people. Even Bollywood flicks have time and again realized this fact and have come up with numerous blockbusters on the said theme.

Today Loneliness is a very common phenomenon and every other people are suffering from it. In this fast changing world nobody has the time for other people; and whatever friendship they are having is entirely virtual in the form of association over social networking sites. And what marvels me is the fact that though they do not have time for each other but they have time to fight over petty issues, over their egos which are nothing but vanity. I see around long time friends becoming foe just at the slightest of misunderstanding, creeping. All the world of goods is forgotten just because your friend chooses to behave in a different way. Without willing to know the reason we tend to speculate all wrong things. There is so much of distrust floating around. So gone are the days when friends use to inspire each other. It takes me to a painful situation when I try to visualize the future from here.

Friendship is a cart driven by the friends in the form of wheels. It cannot stand on a single wheel. Learn to give in it and you are bound to receive it soon. Learn to forgive because a guilty always a guilty conscience which is always more tormenting than your comments. You cannot forget the good times for one bad moment. Inspire each other, motivate each other, share each other interests and cherish the association. Tabhi toh hogi YAARI YAARI BAILGADI.

Kya yeh khoon maaf hai?

SCENE I

Susanna Anna Marie Johaness conspires to murder her husbands successively one after another as many as six times and finally ends up murdering the real murderer in herself, by embracing God. A typical Vishal Bhardwaj movie where he successfully portrays the dark side of a women’s facet and quest for love which comes with a caveat.

SCENE II

I see joyful faces coming out of the theatre expressing the artistic delight they have experienced in the past two and a half hours.

SCENE III

As I stroll along the street of Mukherjee Nagar (a place in New Delhi), I can see crowd gathered at some distance midway on the road. It gave me an inkling of some mishap, but only to find out that a serious accident has taken place, on reaching closer.

SCENE IV

As I stood there among the crowds, I see an old woman lying on the road bleeding profusely from her mouth. Her tattered shawl, barely a shield against the deadly winter of Delhi, lay spread next to her body. A look around and I found a packet lying at her feet which had chapattis wrapped inside it. In our society where Clothes make the man, naked people have little or no influence on society; I figured out easily from her scantily dressed body that she was that bloody “NOONE”. I came to know that she has just been run over by a speeding car.

SCENE V

A police van reached the spot and with the promise to the people, who managed to note down the vehicle number, that stern action will be taken against the guilty took away the woman to the hospital, who was almost breathing her last.

SCENE VI

Now there are certain set of questions that is disturbing the plate tectonics of mind and is causing tremors.

Q. Was the woman born to die this way, if she succumbs to the injury?

Q. What do I do for her? Do I pray that she gets saved and start leading a miserable life again or do I wish her death so that she gets rid of the type of life which must have been nothing less than a burden?

Q. How insensitive can a man could be to another person’s life? Was there no humanity left within the conscience of the man who hit her, to reach her a hospital, if at all it was an accident

Q. How can this situation be brought justice?

RBI and its worries

v The RBI Credit Policy has given conflicting signals about the stance of Monetary Policy. Faced with high inflationary expectations on one hand and tight liquidity in money markets on the other, it has left interest rates and CRR unchanged, while announcing Open Market Operation (OMO) to ease liquidity. Recently it has intervened in foreign exchange markets in amounts that could possibly impact the Rupee, and perhaps only help increase liquidity. The Indian Money market is plagued with a different type of disease where cut in policy rates does not transfers to market interest rates. A number of restrictions on the functioning of money, bond and credit markets render it unresponsive to the RBI’s policy rate changes. The operating framework of monetary policy, which works by keeping money market rates within the bracket of policy rates of repo and reverse repo rates, has broken down. This has rendered policy rates irrelevant. In the process of tightening monetary policy in response to inflation it employed many instruments (Policy interest rates, CRR, SLR, and OMO). The multiple objectives, multiple instrument framework only suggests that RBI reacts to the situation in the market on a day to day basis, where different instruments have been moving in different directions.