Crossroads

Its an interesting time to be alive.

Personally, I'm doing something that flies in the face of traditional thinking. There's all these cute films about NRIs coming back, and everyone talks about it, but no one actually does it. When you have an M.Phil. in Economics from Oxford, and a cushy job that most people would give an arm and a leg for in these times; when you live in the most multicultural and accepting city on earth, where you can walk down to the local market and get freshly ground coffee from Malawi, or authentic food from Ethiopia; when you have the right to live in a country where fundamental rights are guaranteed in practice, and where everything works; when you have a life that most people on earth cannot even dream of ... you don't just throw it all away ... especially not if new immigration policy will make it all but impossible for you to get it back.

But that's kind of what I'm doing.

For what? Chasing my dream? Perhaps. I don't even know if what I'm going back for is what I want to be doing for the rest of my life. Hell, I don't even know if it will give me any sense of happiness on a long term basis. I could be an economist for the rest of my life. It will always be a part of my life - I'm just going to try and figure out it its going to be the largest part of my life. What is it about acting that I enjoy? Is it the process, or the adulation? I don't know.

Is it even a question of what I'm good at, or what I want to do? Maybe the right question is how best to be of use to society. Am I of best use to society as an actor? Or as a thinker? Or as a consultant? Or an academic? Or a policy maker? Or will nothing matter in the end, and will no one remember me when I'm dead and gone? Is that it - that I have a deep seated craving to BE something, to DO something, to be in the limelight, and to be remembered? If I do, is it such a bad thing? Wouldn't the world be a better place if everyone wanted to do something to be remembered by (in a good way, of course)?

I like to think I'm brave, and not averse to taking risks. But deep down inside, I'm apprehensive. Of the unknown. Or of what happens if I find out that the grass isn't actually greener on the other side. I'm apprehensive about whether I have what it takes.

Anyway, I'm coming back. Maybe part of the reason is that I feel guilty for not doing my bit in contributing to the debates that will shape how my country of birth evolves going forward. India's given a lot to me. A sense of pride. Music. Discipline. Rigour. Jugaad. If there is a power up above, I'm thankful I was born in India. And I'm thankful that I grew up there. There's something about India that is irrepressible. That is ancient and futuristic at the same time. It's so full of life. It's so full of variety. It's ... EVERYTHING all at once.

As I said, its an interesting time to be alive.

There's a wonderful piece of work that an economic historian called Angus Maddison put together. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_regions_by_past_GDP_(PPP). The interesting thing is that until the industrial revolution, India and China were always the two largest countries on earth, economically. Then the industrial revolution happened, imperialism happened, and it all went away. Now, slowly, things are going back to the way they used to be.

Its this journey back that makes this an utterly fascinating time to be alive. India's building a modern nation. And it needs to build a nation that doesn't only give it's people a good standard of living, but it needs to build a nation that other nations will look up to because of its sheer size and economic power.

Of course, that's easier said than done. There's so, SO much that needs doing. And I want to be a part of all that doing.

We need to reform our political institutions. Honestly, I used to be a cynic. I used to think it would take ages. But its happening a lot quicker than I thought it would. The way the whole Anna Hazare thing happened was almost surreal. For the record, I don't like most of the things Hazare does one bit. It's the job of the elected representatives of the people to make law. I share the frustration that most people have with the fact that parliament rarely functions smoothly and efficiently, but surely the correct reaction to this should be to coax parliamentarians to do their job, rather than for one person (or group of people) to take it upon themselves to write law? The concept of democracy (imperfect as it may be) has been thought up as the best available mechanism for an entire population to have a say on how they should be governed. If people are not confident that their views are being properly represented, then the system needs to be fixed, not subverted.

Of course, politicians will indulge in efficient law making if they know that's what will get them re-elected. We need to become a society that ties votes to good performance. Where people don't vote for a candidate based on his caste, his surname or because 'uski kya mast puss-nal-tee hai yaar', but based on whether the candidate's views on how to run the country coincide with theirs. The one thing I liked about Anna Hazare was the time when the (very high quality debate) was taking place in parliament and he said something to the effect of listen to what they're saying, and vote them out if you don't agree with them. (Well, actually he might have said to vote people out if they didn't support the Jan Lokpal bill, but hey, that's why I don't like him.) We need to become more proactive as citizens. We need to become acquainted with our MP's views. We need to write to our local MPs and tell them what we think. We need to make them feel that paralysing the functioning of parliament is a sin punishable by being voted out.

In order to progress, we need our smartest people making policy. One look at Lok Sabha TV and you know that isn't the case. Another look at everyone who went to college with you, and you DEFINITELY know that isn't the case. We need to create an environment where becoming a politician is a lucrative career that our best minds aspire to. I look forward to the day when the creme de la creme of St. Stephen's College will aspire not just to investment banking in London, but to fighting local elections and making policy.

But of course, all of this isn't something that a mass movement of people can achieve. The tragedy of any developing or underdeveloped nation is that the systems in place are not efficient, and they incentivise sub-optimality. The biggest insight that any educated economist can have, in my opinion, is that PEOPLE RESPOND TO INCENTIVES. It is silly to suddenly expect young smart people to want to get into politics if it isn't lucrative. It is silly to expect people to acquire information about the opinions and views of their parliamentarians if that information is not readily available, or if they do not have the capacity to efficiently process it. It's a fairly simple catch-22 that all underdeveloped nations have - an inefficient system never gets changed because it doesn't give people enough incentive to critically evaluate it.

Developing nations have somehow found a way out of this vicious circle. There are spurts where things change, and then phases where you seem to regress. I want to be a part of this change. I want to be a part of the debate on what shape our national consciousness should take. I want democracy to function properly. I want to see the most intelligent people of the land sit in parliament and debate on legislation.

And that's just building a true democratic process. There's so much more that makes it an interesting time to be alive. How, for instance, we are in complete and utter danger of losing our culture, our music, our languages in a mad race for modernisation, which, sadly, too often gets confused with Westernisation. I've written in the past (http://saattvic.blogspot.com/2009/08/old-is-gold.html) about how it pains me no end to see that so many of my contemporaries are completely unaware of their heritage and culture, or simply reject it without giving it a fair trial. If there's one thing I've learnt from being in the UK, its that national heritage and culture need to be preserved, studied, analysed and understood.

Then there's that fundamental test that any nation worth its while must pass. One that India fails miserably at. It's the test of opportunity. Does my nation give every child born within its borders the opportunities necessary to realise its full potential? No. I'm lucky - I was born to intelligent and now well off parents who made sure I had the best education and had a free hand in deciding the course of my life. But if I wasn't so lucky, I might not have had a good education, and my career might have been shoved down my throat before I knew it. The state owes it to society to provide good quality primary education to everyone. In fact, I think I'll write an entire post just on education at some point. It needs it.

Yes, it's an interesting time to be alive. History's being made, people. Be a part of making it.

Dad

I suppose it started when you rowed Mom out to the middle of a lake and threatened to throw her over if she didn't marry you. Okay, I'm sure you disguised it by talking dreamily about wanting to settle down in life, but that's what you were really saying, wasn't it? You knew perfectly well Mom couldn't swim!

That kick-started a process that culminated in one of the most beautiful things that ever happened:

(Okay, so I had a few extra pounds. FINE, a LOT of extra pounds. But that's not the point...)

You pretty much made the family what it is. You helped Mom do what she always wanted to do. In many ways, you invested so much in her and helped her achieve everything she has.

You invested so much in Gautmik and me. You are around when we need you. Always. And you still give us our space. You've been a friend, a role model and a teacher as and when the situation has demanded it. As we grew up, you've become the voice of reason. You've never let us feel deprived of anything. You've been open with us. Cried with us. Laughed with us. You've been brave and stubborn in situations where lesser men would have done things differently. You've taught us how to do our own thing, how to be our own people. You've laughed in the face of societal customs.

We sometimes lose sight of the fact that you didn't pursue your own dreams to make sure that Mom, Gautmik and I could. That when you were my age, you were working long hours travelling from one side of Bombay to the other on buses and scooters to feed, house and care for a family of three.

You've built a wonderful family, Dad. You make me want to be a Dad. I don't know if the laws of the country will ever allow it, but I want to build a family as beautiful as the one you've built. Of course, there'd be two Dads in my family, but hey!

Love you Dad.

PS. Although your voice of reason is the perfect offset to Mom's ... well ... lack of reason, I still think you got it wrong when you didn't allow me to get an achkan made for Oxford because you reckoned it would pose a threat to my life by making me look like a Muslim fundamentalist.

Information

Here's the economist in me speaking up. Perfect information is important. It is desirable. It aids efficiency. Imperfect information leads to the market for lemons, and second best outcomes all around.

But I think this problem isn't something exclusive to economists. Its something that creates issues for everyone. It creates problems for art and culture. For health and education.

Example. Indian classical music. Both Hindustani and Carnatic. Because of its very nature, you need a bit of specialist knowledge to appreciate it. Beyond a point, if you don't understand the work the artist is doing, all you get is one instrument going on for an hour and a half. And that gets boring and pointless. You don't need specialist knowledge to appreciate a good bollywood song - there is a nice tune, some nice lyrics, and the instrumentation sounds nice. Everyone can appreciate it.

So, there will always be only a niche audience for classical music. That's fine. There will be a group of people that spend the time and effort needed to gain that specialist knowledge, and they will form the audience for that music.

The other group of people will not, and they will not listen to that music. In this group there are three kinds of people. The first kind just inherently doesn't like that kind of music. Even if they knew everything about that music, their preferences would lead to them choosing not to listen to that music. The second kind doesn't have the wherewithal to gain that knowledge - they do not have the time, nor the money. They are too worried about putting food on the table, clothes on their bodies and roofs above their heads. I don't have any problems with these two kinds. I wouldn't try and make them listen to classical music.

There is a third kind, though, that I do have a problem with. This is the kind that would listen to classical music if they knew how everything worked, but don't because they have preconceived notions about the music. Some won't because 'it's not cool' to be into classical music in school and college. The fact is, if there wasn't an institutionalised culture of ridicule associated with classical music, and if it was easier to obtain knowledge that facilitates understanding of what the artist is doing on stage, this kind would all listen to classical music.

Another example. Fitness. The first thing that struck me when I got back home for the holidays is how there are so few fit people here. The average man on the street has a belly. They will eat stuff fried in ghee with gay abandon. They look at me and say I have a great body. Really, in the UK, lots of people have bodies like mine. I have my body despite my genetics, and that's down only to the fact that I know what various kinds of foods do to you (I mean seriously, what the hell is 'good ghee' as opposed to 'bad ghee'?), and I know the shit you can get into if you're unhealthy in the long term. I don't want to be immobilised when I'm 75. I don't want knee surgery because my weight slowly ground them into nothingness.

Here again, there are two groups. And the second group has three kinds of people. And its only the third kind in the second group that I have a problem with. Here's food for thought. Why is it that there are so many more fit people in the UK? Or in the States? or in South Africa? Anyone who's been there knows its true. Why do they live much longer than we do? Could it be perhaps even be that our eating and exercising habits have adverse effects on our productivity? Could it be reducing our ability to enjoy life at the end of the day?

Kiski galati hai? There's clearly an issue. My opinion is that the problem is two sided. The consumers of the product can't be bothered acquiring information. And the producers of the product are guilty of not making that information easily available. How many times have I sat through a classical concert with absolutely no explanations for the lay person that might allow them to understand the work. And then they crib that no one listens to them play. How many times have I seen newbies in the gym being told 'eat this, do this exercise this many times' without any explanation as to why they should eat a certain way, and what the physiological effects of the exercise would be. People end up following up silly plans without understanding them, and never gain the ability to tailor things to their own needs.

What to do then? YOU, get off your ass and acquire information. YOU, make information available to others. Oh, and if you're in the government, then read up on banking and utilities regulation, heck, even food standards in developed countries - one of the key roles of government is to overcome problems caused by incomplete information. Do your job.

What keeps you going?

So I'm twenty five. When dad was my age, I was already six months old. When mom was my age, I was four. I didn't feel old when I stopped being a teenager. Nor when I passed 21. Nor when I stopped being an undergrad. But suddenly, twenty five has dropped on me like a bomb-shell.

Honestly, I think its the working. I have a desk job. I've started to grow used to it. It's a whole new world. A world where changing the world or following your heart aren't top priority. Where music and theatre are hobbies, not to be confused with what puts food on the table. A world where aspirations are limited to getting the next promotion and pay hike. Why? So that there's stability and comfort.

Its put me in a dilemma. How do I be at peace with myself without changing the world? Without being famous? Without being recognised and talked about everywhere I go? How do I be at peace with becoming just another rich-ish consultant? What can I hold on to to keep me going?

Just a thought. I speak to so many people older than me, and one continuous strain I hear is that you do it for the family. For the person you love. For your children. You keep going so you can buy your wife the car she wanted. So that you can send your children to the best schools and colleges money can buy. So that you can treat them with good food, a great house, and other such creature comforts. Sure, you do stuff for yourself too, but how many times have I heard older people say that their happiness lies in their children's happiness?

But then again, I'm gay.

I'm not going to have a wife.

And I'm a lot less likely than any given straight person to ever settle down. It seems like there's no love around these days. No trust. Certainly not in people who frequent Soho.

Sure, friends can keep me going. But for how long? Soon enough they'll find people they love. And even if they don't there's something you share with your family that you don't with friends.

I don't know. Maybe I need to be famous. Maybe I need to change the world. Maybe somewhere in the back of my mind I still think I can. Even though that voice in my head is going further and further away, being slowly downed our by the voice that looks forward to the next promotion, to saving up enough to buy a house...

Muse

You'd think three years is enough to get you used to a place. To a new people. To a different culture, a different way of life.

It's been three years now. When I came here, I was depressed. Shit was happening. And the first few months here were like a bad dream.

I moved on. I came to live with my mediocrity. Oxford got better. Then it finished. The first job started. It finished. Now the second job's started.

I'm confused.

This place isn't home yet.

But then again, when I go back home, it feels less and less alluring.

I feel like I'm dissolving. Into nothingness. That I don't belong anywhere. I'm too Indian. I'm too melodramatic. I don't understand subtle intellectual humour. I still like getting wet in the rain. Yet in so many ways I'm not Indian at all. I can't suck up to superiors and act like a doormat. I can't haggle. I expect people to form lines and wait patiently for their turn. I get angry when things aren't done in as efficient a manner as possible.

I don't know.

I'm getting old. And life isn't getting any clearer.