A nobody's rants

Crossroads

2011-12-07T20:30:00.001Z

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

2011-06-19T12:38:00.000+01:00

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

2011-01-02T11:31:00.000Z

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?

2010-10-27T23:47:00.000+01:00

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

2010-09-25T02:36:00.002+01:00

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.

Old is gold?

2009-08-08T00:40:00.002+01:00

So here comes something straight from the heart.

Something worries me. The image of a cool kid in my country is now one of a guy in his late teens or early twenties strumming notes on a guitar. I find this strange. Scary even. Because this image has pasted itself accross films, magazines and social networking sites. Kids aspire to be this image. Disturbing. Deeply disturbing.

When I was in class 11, at a leadership camp in school, during one extempore speech round, a girl who grew up in America had said in broken hindi, "हमें हिन्दी जाननी चाहिये क्योंकि हमारी culture हिन्दी में है" (we should know hindi because our culture is in hindi). Even though this statement is technically not true, it does make an interesting point. Everything about our past before the British came along was recorded in hindi, urdu and other native languages. Anyone who knows more than one language knows that each language has a specific 'feel' (for lack of a better word) to it. A शेर (couplet) will deliver its full impact in urdu, but the corresponding english translation will seem outlandish. Hindi has three words for 'you', तू, तुम and आप, each corresponding to a varying degree of respect. Old people automatically get called आप, which corresponds to the highest degree of respect. A reverence for age and experience is in-built into hindi and other indegenous languages, while english tends to make people treat people of all ages equally. Now, a lot of what we are is due to how we were. And we can only know how we were if we know the languages that we spoke before english. A lot of hip, urban kids cannot speak native languages to save their lives. Deeply disturbing.

A friend recently told me that she wouldn't let me play the tabla or listen to classical music when she was around. She thinks it is boring. She thinks the tues keep repeating themselves and are monotonous. Deeply disturbing.

Whether by design or otherwise, we know less and less about our past. I'm not glorifying the past. Far from it. I'm arguing instead that our past is huge. Maybe, just maybe it contains something that makes sense. There's so much stuff there that it would be extremely strange if nothing in it was of any value. What I'm saying is that we must know our past, and then choose whether to adopt things from it.

My poor classical-music-hating friend does not know anything about how our classical music works. Maybe if she knew what to listen for, she might find it exciting. If she knew that a classical composition is just a few seconds long, and the real work is the various kinds of improvisation that must compliment the basic tune, she would, perhaps, not be so critical. If she knew the rules for those improvisations, she might even appreciate the work. Having spent two years in the UK, I have found that most of the people here know the basics of their classical music. In fact, I have found an open-mindedness and appreciation towards our classical music that is quite refreshing. Most will first try to get to know the art before passing judgement on it. At home, I find a stigma. Classical music is just uncool. Classical singers wail. The music is too slow. Why do we not display the same open-mindedness towards the art? Why is it that the image of a sitar strumming twenty-something can never be cool?

Why is it also that we display an alarming ignorance when it comes literary works in non-english languages? I am ashamed of myself. I have read a decent amount of Shakespeare. I have not read Kalidas. And I know this is true for a lot of people I know. We know about what the ancient greek philosophers said, but we do not know what our own Indian philosophers said. Very few of us have read the Vedas. Let alone the Vedas, not many of us have read one novel of decent quality in anything other than in english. I feel that I'm losing out on so much. Again, here in the UK, I find that the study of classical texts is a big thing. At Oxford, so many people study greek and latin texts for a living. And then I think of sanskrit back home. No one studies it. Most people who study sanskrit in college will go on to use it to gain entry into the civil services. The study of ancient Indian texts for all practical purposes does not exist.

Where does the blame lie? In my opinion, there is no simple answer. Part of the blame must lie with us. We just seem not to care. Those of us that learnt classical music when we were kids know how much it benefitted us. We are prepared to give in to this stigma that has someohow become associated with classical music and are not prepared to know it before we dismiss it. How many of us will walk into a bookstore and pick up a hindi novel? But, surely, another part of the blame must be borne by the cusodians of our heritage. Classical musicians don't help their case by making their music completely inaccessible. You know that your music can only be appreciated by people who know how it works, yet you refuse to help the layman understand it. And then you complain that kids start strumming guitars. All it takes is for you to talk to your audience and explain what you're doing as you do it. Not very difficult. Why don't our schools make it a point to compulsarily teach a basic level of music to us? Indeed, why don't they equip us to a decent level in out native languages? Why aren't we encouraged to speak in hindi as well as in english at home and at school? Why do we not see hindi books in bookstores? Why?

Deeply disturbing.

On Patriotism

2009-04-05T22:17:00.002+01:00

So, one of the things Oxford does to you is to throw you in a cauldron with great thinkers. They question everything. Force you to go through the logic and premises that lead to your opinions. You often realize that you didn't really think xyz through. That there's a lot more to it than 'conventional wisdom', or 'widely held opinion' would suggest.

And so inevitably someone tries telling me that there is no one India. And succeeds up to a point. After all, there is no such thing as an 'Indian culture'. Or Indian architecture. What we have is the collection of all regional cultures that happen to fall in the geographical area that in 1947 was deleniated the nation-state of 'India'. I was told that it was justified if a person said things like 'I am a Bihari first, and an Indian later.' And I understand the argument - what does it mean to be Indian when the only concept of India is that of man-made boundaries?

Then I question myself. Why is it that every time I hear the National Anthem, an overwhelming surge of patriotism sweeps over me? Is there something that makes me Indian, as opposed to just a Delhi boy with Punjabi heritage? I think so. And I think it is precisely the idea of the modern nation-state of India. It's like a bunch of people, who may be very different, come together to found a city. Eventually, that city develops, and acquires a character of its own. It was pure chance that these people were thrown together and others left out. Some people in this group will have less in common with someone else in the group and more in common with someone in the next city. But that doesn't matter. The city as a whole acts as a mixing pot. These people, now together, interact with one another, and while each retains his individuality, they give rise to a community unique in character. If nothing else, this is the only city with that particular unique blend of individuals. It would be different if one more person came in, or one less. But eventually, a communiy develops, and the 'feel' of the city develops. I have been branded a Delhi boy. There must be something about Delhi in me for that to have happened.

Now just extend this analogy. For whatever reason, a bunch of people are chosen to live together in a certain geographical area. If the western border had been drawn slightly more to the west, there would have been a few more people. And they formed India. They do have stuff in common. Lots of people fought for them to be free from foreign rule. They are all subject to the same set of laws and enjoy the same rights given to them by one document (in theory at least).

Sure, they are all different. There are many groups that a person belongs to. But I would argue that the basic rights afforded to them by the nation-state of India are synonymous with basic human rights. They are a bare minimum for any hope of a fruitful existence. But how is India different in this respect from most other modern nation-states? I dont think it is. What is different is the physical piece of land associated with it. And the cultures and histories associated with all the people that live in it.

So now I've decided. India for me is the piece of land demarcated by modern physical boundaries, and all the culture, history, etc. associated with it. And the way these histories, etc. interact with one another to develop a 'feel'. The often cited analogy of cooking isn't irrelevant. You put long, dalchini, hing, elaichi, rai, jeera, pyaaz, tamatar, lasun and adrak into a dish. Each ingredient retains its flavour, yet the dish as a whole has an identity too. You could have chosen a different set of ingredients, and got a different dish.

SD Burman said 'phool hum hazaroon lekin khushboo ek suhaani', and my textbook said 'unity in diversity'. I've made up my mind that they aren't just misleading pieces of propoganda. Whoever wrote them must have thought long and hard.

Give us strength

2008-05-31T22:44:00.003+01:00

Ever so often, people, or groups of people undergo crises that test them. And I don't mean stuff like exams, or the proverbial Oxonian 'essay crisis'. No, I'm talking something really bad. Something that means the difference between life and death. And how you pull through these defines you as a person.

The fear of losing someone really close can, apparently, be really bad. Really, really bad. Ma experienced it last week, when her ma was taken to the hospital to repair a fractured leg. Age and a medical condition have made my grandmother really weak, so much so that operating was dangerous. During the operation, she lost 14 units of blood. For a while it was touch and go.

I can only imagine how Ma went through it. I don't know what it feels like to not know whether your mother will make it through the next few hours. Dad cried, with me in his arms, when we got to know that his mother had died. I shudder to think what Ma went through. It affected me quite a bit sitting all the way here in Oxford, and I didn't even know about the operation until after it had been performed and everything was fine.

And such things always create tension. Life gets disrupted. Ma is taking care of Nani pretty much round the clock. I know Ma, she'll pull through this. She's pulled through a lot in life.

What's really crap is that I can't be there for my mother. Nani has her daughter, but her daughter doesn't have me. Ma needs her family to support her while she's taking care of her mother. It makes it a bit easier, both on her and on Nani.

I know I don't believe in God. I haven't decided wether I'm atheist or agnostic. But its times like these that suddenly make me wish that there was a God, just so I can say, "God, give us strength. Let us gather our courage and face this united, as a family. Let's all take care of Nani, and be supportive of Ma, to help them both trough this. Let us love each other to make things better."

They say love conquers all. Then let it conquer the situation my family finds itself in...

For Family and Country!

2008-03-14T18:20:00.003Z

Yes, so. For everyone who thinks that I’m super depressed and gloomy. I’m getting over it. I’ve even started enjoying conversations over tea in the MCR after lunch!!

For everyone who thinks that I’m an Indophile, deal with it! You haven’t heard the last of it.

This post is about something whacky we did over the Christmas break. It’s a story of a family reunited. A story of a young nation in flux. It’s a story about what makes life worth living.

Dad’s take on the roadtrip is worth a read
http://toooldtoboogietooyoungtodie.blogspot.com/2008/01/road-trippers.html

As dad says, it started when I got sick of the English weather. I said to him and mom “I want to go some place where the sun is out, and where I can roam about without a shirt. In fact … I think I want to go to Goa.” Good. Plans started being made. Then, a few days later, dad asks me, “fancy a drive to Goa?”

WOW!!!! Just like old times. My fondest memories from my childhood are a series of road trips between Bombay (as it was called then) and Delhi. Of the wondrous sites and sounds. Of seeing the geography, the people and the food change so drastically through the trip. Of being amazed at how BIG and diverse my country is. Of buying shrikhand from Anand. Of stopping by a tree every time my then one year old brother needed to answer nature’s call. Of stopping and eating at the small local roadside eateries and eating among the locals.

It would have been foolish to say no, even though Neil, Aurelie and a bunch of other people were going to Morocco…

I feel so lucky. That I have this great family. I only met Gautmik at Calcutta airport, and when we saw each other, we ran towards each other and hugged each other for a good two minutes, true Bollywood style. And shortly thereafter, we were in a car, all four of us, preparing to relive memories from over a decade ago. The trips between Bombay and Delhi were one of the things that defined our family, and we were about to add another chapter to the saga.

We set off. It was wonderful. Mom often jokes that our family are perpetually at each other’s throats, and the best way to set things right is to put us in a car. Dad, Gautmik and I made jokes about mama’s sleeping habits. It’s a tested theory, by the way, that you only need to use the words ‘mama’ and ‘sleep’ in the same sentence while mama is sleeping for her to jerk violently out of the deepest slumber and vehemently deny that she ever nodded off. Gautmik kept demanding that we let him drive, but dad and I always refused… after all, there were still 20 days to go for his 18th. And I drove. For the first time between Delhi and Bombay, I drove.

It was so different from the last time, and yet it was so similar. We all felt like we were young again. We all behaved like adolescents. Something clicked, and for the six days we spent in the car, we were different people. The people we had always wanted ourselves to be. All was good with the world. Even when Benazir Bhutto was shot while we were in rural Gujarat, we sat back and discussed politics, having an excellent time in the bargain.

But my word, how India has changed since we last took the trip. The entire section between Delhi and Mumbai is now a modern expressway. We could scarcely believe our eyes. We sped out of Jaipur towards Ajmer at 140 kph. I don’t think our car 12 years ago was even capable of such speeds. And the traffic was, for the large part disciplined. Truck drivers drove in their lanes, and gave you way if you flashed your headlights at them. Well, most of them. Dad took care of the rest! But the most heartening part was that the soul of the drive was still intact. You had this ultra modern expressway to speed on, but you would still stop by the side at a road side dhaba and eat Malwani food with the locals. Everywhere we went, we felt overwhelmed by the progress – we could see India emerging from the shackles of the past in front of our eyes – and yet our hearts warmed when we saw that the people had not forgotten their culture, they had not forgotten what makes India India. Back home, people are often accused of aping the west, but I was convinced that India would retain her own identity through all the progress, and I felt so proud.

The trip is also a study in diversity. There’s so much packed into NH 8. You start out from Delhi and you see the commerce around the NCR. You see the trucks transporting cars, grain, just about anything. You pass through endless swathes of farms and the now increasingly frequent industrial belt or two. And you see the building of a nation. Then you pass Jaipur. Where you find no traffic. Only space. So much space that the mind is sent into a tizzy. You don’t see as many farms cause the terrain is arid. Instead, you see the magnificent Aravallis. You understand why the phrase ‘raw beauty’ was coined. The people change too. From the zealous workers of Haryana to the hardened survivors of Rajasthan. You can see it in their clothes, on their faces, from the way they speak Here was a people who had learned to live with the harsh weather, with the paucity of food and water that comes with living in Rajasthan. Amazing.

Ajmer to Udaipur is like a fairytale. The land of the Rajputs. Jaipur to Ajmer gives you a high. Ajmer to Udaipur gives you an orgasm. The terrain gets even more bare, and the air thickens with the scent of old battles between the Rajputs and the Mughals. It is as though they happen in front of your eyes. Everything becomes exotic. You drive through beautiful rock formations. You see the setting sun play hide and seek with the clouds and the hills. You drive on the expressway, but you are drawn into a sense of romanticism and adventure that was exactly the same the last time I was there. The air, the rocks, the sand were beckoning, and as the sun set, I was warmed by the knowledge that they would be there when I got back. In ten years. In fifty. They would always be there, majestic survivors, like battle scarred heroes, braving the Rajasthani sun, staring back at it defiantly.

And then Gujarat. The terrain changes so quickly. Within an hour, arid bushes are replaced by tropical trees. Hardened Hindi speaking desert people give way to the content, softer Gujaratis. You wake up in the morning and you realize you’ve crossed the Narmada and the Tapi – you’re now in the Deccan. One of the most ancient pieces of land that exist in the world. Everything that came before is new – most of it was formed after dinosaurs went extinct. The Deccan is one of the oldest pieces of land on earth – older than life itself. And you could see that. The soil was weathered – the elements had done their bit over the eons and the land had settled into a state of perpetual equilibrium. You could see that those rocks, those rivers had been there forever. It was like the land was a wise old woman, who had seen life with all its ups and downs, and was supremely content. The land in the North appeared restless, active, young, brash. Here, it appeared mature, at peace with itself. You could see the wrinkles that age had put on it. And suddenly there was this deep welling of respect. That land had seen life form. It had nurtured the first microscopic orgasms. It will still be there once humans are gone. It will be there forever. It gives you an overwhelming sense of permanence, and makes you feel so small.

Through Gujarat and Maharashtra, the climate changes. It gets wetter. It gets greener. A different sort of green. The trees are, like the land, old. Really old. Like the earth that spawned them, they too have seen it all, and are at peace with themselves, offering shade to travellers and keeping a watchful and caring eye over the countryside. The people also change. They become shorter and darker. Technically, the Aryans of the north give way to the Dravidians of the south. And the change is palpable. The earth and the surroundings are reflected in its people. They are soft-spoken and content with going about their lives like generations before. They are not aggressive and domineering like the people of the north. They are humble, and they like what they have.

And all through it my family grew closer and closer. Not only did we spend time together, but we realized once more how beautiful our country is. I feel proud that we manage to keep it together. I feel proud when a waiter in a rural Malwani dhaba chats with me about how awfully India played to lose a one-dayer to Australia. He feels for the same country that I do, and I’m so different from him. They teach us in textbooks that India is defined by ‘Unity in Diversity’, and I know now what that means. It warms my heart when Reliance A1 restaurants, India’s answer to the western ‘services’, despite being run on the same model throughout the country, embrace the local culture and cuisine so perfectly that you feel Reliance isn’t really a heartless MNC.

Do I feel like I missed out on Morocco? Yes. Given the same choice again, would I ever choose Morocco over six days in a car with my family driving across India? Never. That trip brought us closer. We were the happiest family on earth in that car. We sang, we joked, we had the time of our lives, and we saw a beautiful country in the bargain. Well, we haven’t really seen anything, have we? There’s so much more to India. The mountains, the desert, the tropical rainforests, the North-East, the extreme south. I want to drive all over India before I’m dead. And I want my family with me in the car…

Pictures from the trip..

Mom and dad in front of the temple where they were married ... 23 years ago

Kids!!

Goa - sunset while on the road

Outside Ajmer - Arravalis

Only in India - tea from a road side dhaba while on a modern expressway.

and life goes on...

2008-02-25T18:29:00.002Z

Yes, life does go on. On and on. It pulls you away in one direction after another. And you just feel like you've been swept this way and that.

Settling into life in an alien country is quite an experience. Back home, everyone knows you. They've seen you act, sing, play the tabla. They've known you for the person you are. Some of them respect you even. A few might even look up to you. Then you get uprooted and put in a new place where no one knows you. Where they don't know your culture. Where India means Abu from the simpsons. Where 17 year olds start putting you down cause you can't be bothered to indulge in polite banter. Cause they think they know more than you. Kids!

And then you realize that life goes on. That you've experiened this all your life in a milder form. You experienced it when you left Moern School and went to St. Stephen's College. Nothing's ever come easy to you in life, there's no reason it should come easy now. You'll just have to work at it, slowly but surely. You'll have to attend auditions and get rejected by people you know you've done more theatre than. Not their fault that you have brown skin, though. You just don't get roles meant for white people. It's okay. You move on. You keep trying.

Rowing has been killing. As has theatre. I landed a lead in Indian Ink (Stoppard), and everyone who saw it loved it. And loved me in it. Nice bunch of people to work with. Cast party in 2 days. Looking forward to it. And now a few people know I can act. Thats a good thing.

And some of the people here are nice. They tell me I go on and on and on about India, but its difficult not to. I mean, you don't ever see the sun in this country. Its so cold and drab. And people here are so stiff. Buried under so many layers. But they're nice people, all. Different from what I'm used to, but nice. I've got a few of them interested in India even.

Yes, life goes on. And you realize that you must go on with it. Work hard with what it throws at you and learn to be content with what you get from it. Life has changed in so many ways over the last year. It all seems too quick. But I'm trying to move on. I AM moving on...

PS. to a certain JitterBug. It hurts, I know. I was hurt too. But you must move on. It takes time, it takes effort, but you MUST...

Mulling...

2007-10-02T00:07:00.000+01:00

Something I typed out the other day. Saturday to be precise..

---------------------------------------------------------------

Parents left today. We’ll talk on the phone, of course, but it seems that the last vestiges of my old life have been severed. A new life to look forward to. And yet I’m tense. I know I’m lucky. Many people don’t get to where I am. Some do, but they can’t get the money to fund it. I’m terribly lucky. Terribly. I’m in Merton. Mer-fucking-ton in Ox-fucking-ford. I’m in a room with a carpet and running hot and cold water. Imagine what I’ll be able to do in a couple of years time.

But there’s this sinking feeling. I should be overjoyed. But I’m so bloody depressed it’s scary. Really scary. It’s like the world’s caving in around me. People here are nice. But everything is a haze. I can’t take it any longer. I once told someone that I knew I was going to be sad for the rest of my life. It’s true. I can’t live. The moment I’m alone I feel like it’s all completely useless. That everything is wrong. That this wasn’t the way it was meant to be. And it’s all gone wrong due to something completely outside my control. I don’t know if I could have even done something about it. It’s all so bloody useless. I hate feeling useless. And there’s not a bloody thing I can do about it. Like I’m on a road. And I don’t know where it goes. But I have this sinking feeling that it goes somewhere I don’t like.

I know I’m depressing myself even further. Maybe I want to depress myself in some weird masochistic way. But I’m not that way. Really. I don’t like being depressed. But it happens to me all so often. More so now. When everything has changed. In such a short time. My brother and I haven’t talked in days cause he’s in Bombay and I’m in Ofxord and I just got access to a phone. I still don’t have access to the net. This place is a medieval joke. Busses don’t even run on time here. And they charge people from India 8000 pounds a year more than the obviously richer kids from Britain and the EU. It doesn’t make any bloody sense.

And there’s no one here. No one. Not a soul I can speak to. Back home, I could call someone up and cry. It’s Tuesday. I could go to Pegs ‘n’ Pints and have some serious fun. Haha. Serious fun. Oxymoron. Ah screw it!

What's in a name

2007-09-09T18:37:00.000+01:00

Well, as some of you would have noticed, facebook has decided to throw me out. I contacted customer care, and they told me that I had violated their terms of use by not revealing my surname.

This just completely threw me off. Now I am supposed to conjure up a surname just to get onto some social networking site? I just can't digest the fact that people refuse to believe that one can exist without a surname. I've existed for 22 years. And it's been great.

Let me tell you the story behind my lack of surname. An ancestor was adopted. No one knows who his biological parents really were. So, naturally, he assumed the surname of his adopted family. But he grew up so diametrically different from the rest of the family that he changed his surname from Singh to Kumar. His son, however reasoned 'if not Singh, then why Kumar?' And there the surname was dropped. Three generations we've lived without a surname. Our passports, certificates, driver's licences, et al have only the single name.

But there's more to it than that. For I ask you, what is the purpose of a surname? Through the ages, surnames have had roughly the following uses. They may tell you the place from where your ancestors originated. Multani, for example. Or they could just tell you the name of one of your ancestors. Pietersen being a case in point. Or they could tell you the occupation of one of your ancestors. Kumhar. Or, at a very basic level, your surname will identify your religion, and in some cases your caste. It may also identify you with a certain community, like the Baniyas or the Marwaris.

The trouble with all these is that you get tagged. Stereotyped even. Because people tend to have preconceived notions about most of the groups that surnames tend to identify you with. My point is simply this. The way people view me should not depend upon where I come from, what my father's name is, whether one of my ancestors was a farmer or a potter or a goldsmith, or whether I am a Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Brahmin or Kshatriya. I want people to know me for the person I am. For what I do. A person is defined by his actions, not his surname.

So, by not having a surname, I'm saying to the world: come, interact with me and judge me for the person I am. I will not behave in a certain way because my ancestors belong to a certain place. I will behave the way I do because I chose to do so. Based uopn my beliefs which I have formed over 22 years of thinking. I'm also saying to the world: caste and religion have no place in a civilized society. They divide and cause destruction. They have no other function. How will being a brahmin make me act any different in today's day and age than if i was a khsatriya? And if it will make me act different, then it's wrong. Because all humans are born equal, and they have every right to live equally and take advantage of opportunities equally. I am a human, and any identity placed uopn me by a surname is purely extarnal and man made. It will not affect the way I behave, and therefore I have no need for it. I refuse to be defined by a label applied externally that I have done nothing to build. I will be identified by what I do.

And thats that.

Friends

2007-08-04T18:45:00.000+01:00

I don't understand it. I've just given one of the best performances of my life, and I feel like crap.

I'm asking myself existentialist questions. Is there a point to being alive and not be loved, or even liked by those around you?

I'll tell you something. You know what a close friend is? Like a REALLY close friend? One who you can pour your heart out to at any time? Well, I've got one or two. But you know the other type of close friend who does everything with you? One who goes through pains to cheer you up when you're down? One whose presence feels like upliftment. One you plan month long excursions around the country with. I don't have anyone like that.

You know, a while back in my life a realized that I didn't have many friends. So I made a conscious decision to be more outgoing, accommodating and accepting. I decided that clubbing wasn't a bad thing, and grabbing a drink was sometimes desirable. Predictably, I made more friends. But I started to feel crappier.

And I'll tell you why. The people I regard as friends regard me as an acquaintance. Those that regard me as a friend regard me as a friend on the last rung, to be given last priority. It's like, I care for these people, I feel for them, I like being with them, but they don't give a rat's ass for me.

And they're good people, these. Mind you, I don't blame them for doing it. Cause, for them, I may actually only be incidental. They all already had their respective circles of good friends, and it's foolish of me to think that they'll let me in.

Something like that happened today. Lamba was hoisted onto shoulders by some people who I'd also call friends. Many of them didn't even come up to me to shake my hand and say 'well done!'. A few came up and gave me plastic smiles, shook my hand and quite formally congratulated me. One or two sent me text messages when I got home.

You know, I've been given a lot of talents. A decent amount of intelligence even. But god forgot to teach me the art of friendship. I can't socialize. I come across as a 'pompous ass' at first to almost everyone I meet.

There's no point living this life, is there? Maybe I should go back to being like I was as a kid. Engrossed in my own world. Of animals. Plants. Nature. Fossils. Evolution. The universe. Tabla. Singing. I somehow got into believing a few years ago that people and relationships are important. But they can't be, no? Cause if they are, then I'll never be happy in my entire life.

PS. Guess what song played at the end of today's Simpsons episode...

Pal bhar ke liye koi humme pyaar kar le
Jhoota hi sahi
Do din ke liye koi ikraar kar le
Jhoota hi sahi

Pal bhar ...

How appropriate!

The Corridor

2007-06-24T13:56:00.000+01:00

It was a long corridor of sorts. One side was rock. The other side opened out onto the street. The type of corridor that invariably forms outside the facade of a shopping complex. Someone had bored a few tunnels into the rocky side, connecting various parts of the corridor. I was in that corridor. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stay there much longer. That I’d probably be dead the next day. And yet there was this inexplicable urge to keep put.

There must have been around ten or twelve of us. We were huddled in there. We had guns. Pistols. And we were being fired at by helicopters. There was no way in hell we were going to make it out. Every time a bullet strayed near the corridor, someone or the other would invariably let out a scream of terror, tears running down dust and grime covered cheeks, hands flaying in the air. Because everyone knew perfectly well that it was hopeless. I had a cold look of despair on my face throughout.

They kept firing, and the bullets would hit the rock, slowly chipping away at the roof from the open side of the corridor. Not many of us knew how to handle firearms, but just to make ourselves feel better, most pretended that we did. I fired a few shots, but after a point, my mind stopped working. It seemed perfectly natural. Why should I waste perfectly good bullets if firing them was going to make no difference to our ultimate fatality? Precisely. I stopped firing.

I looked around. Everybody looked dazed. They looked like zombies. Like machines. Computers. Yes. They looked like computer programmes. Like they had been programmed to mechanically fire pistol in the air even though it could do them no good. It was strange. They knew it was useless. Their faces said it. But they still fired. I couldn’t take it. They were all behaving like they had no brains.

I stepped out onto the street, noticing by the by that I had decided to cross the street at a zebra crossing. My, I was law abiding. I should have congratulated myself. I probably did…

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

2007-06-11T15:33:00.000+01:00

Drop me a line. I'll e-mail it to you.

Why do I never get what I want?

2007-05-31T17:20:00.000+01:00

It's really pissing me off. Have you ever experienced it? You REALLY want that Swatch watch, so you all but make up your mind to buy it. Then you roam about the mall generally vellaing around, and by the time you get back to the Swatch showroom, THAT watch has just been sold and you have to settle for something that looks ... well ... ok ... at best.

It happened to me.

Here's a (by no means exhaustive) list of the times that I REALLY wanted something. In all cases, naturally, I didn't get it.

When I was a kid, I REALLY wanted to travel home from the bus stop in an auto alone with mom. Mom ensured that we took a SHARED auto so that we could save a few rupees with which she would buy me sweets or a book. I got BOOKS instead of quality time with my mom.
Once I REALLY wanted an umbrella. The fancy, large double folding umbrella that any normal three-year old yearned fer. Instead, I was given a BRIGHT RED RAINCOAT that embarrassed me so much I only wore it when no one was looking.
I REALLY wanted to be a prefect in class 8. I maskha lagaoed my house master for a good three years for it. Then, just before the prefects were announced, the house masters changed houses, and this bozo was made in charge of my house. Some newcommer talked to him in an affected mix of British, American, Japanese and West Indian accents and showed him his farji computer certificates. He was made prefect instead of me. I wasn't even made house captain. Or vice captain. I was made N.I.E. In Charge. Which basically meant I missed assembly everyday and distributed newspapers to classes 6, 7 and 8. I became a glorified NEWSPAPER BOY instead of a school prefect.
I REALLY wanted to study geography after school. Then my school's geography teacher convinced me to do economics in St. Stephen's College. To this day, she gloats over having destroyed the only real career related ambition I ever had.
I REALLY wanted the Rhodes. But Vir Chauhan's a biased pig. Lets leave it at that.
I REALLY wanted to do Adam in Misha's play, but she wants me to do Jess.

I don't know if I can take this much longer!!!!!!! You may very soon read in the papers about an unidentifiable body found floating one day in the Yamuna. Just call to check if I'm still alive when you read it.

Use Your Imagination

2007-05-28T20:01:00.000+01:00

You can ask me 3 questions...Any three, no matter how personal, private, or random.

I have to answer them honestly
(And you've just got to trust that I *will* answer honestly)

IN RETURN, you have to post this message in your own blog and you have to answer the questions that are asked to you.
(Note: If the question is too personal or whatever, I dont *have* to post the answers up here... the asker of the question, however, will get an honest reply in private...)

K3G - It's all about loving your family

2007-05-28T18:28:00.000+01:00

Sometimes a great thing comes out of something that makes you feel like shit.

Gautmik and I were at Misha's place this evening. Mom was supposed to pick us up so that we could make it back in time for us to exercise at the gym. Tomorrow being a holiday at the gym, today was quite essential.

Mom landed up late, the gym was missed. The car ride home felt like shit. I decided that I had had enough. I could not get myself to spend more time with mom. Or with dad. I anticipated a horrendous night at home. So I decided to spend the night at Raghav's place.

I was leaving as soon as dad came in. He said 'hi'. I said 'bye'. 'Where are you going?' I didn't say. Mom answered 'to Raghav's for the night'. Dad didn't say anything. He just walked by me. Just the night before I had been excused of neglecting family time and not wanting to make the family work as a unit.

I set out towards the car. Put the key into the lock. And stopped.

An epic battle proceeded to rage within the confines of my head.

I couldn't get over dad's face. He didn't look ready to implode. In which case I would have gone right out. He looked sad. I didn't want to hurt him. I just wanted to escape from an uncomfortable situation. But I suddenly felt that dad didn't want to make the situation uncomfortable. I suddenly wanted to spend time with mom and dad.

So, I called Raghav and told him I wasn't coming. And I had a very pleasing dinner. Dad and I hugged. After such a long time. It felt good. We'd said a lot to each other yesterday. And now we were both sorry. He made an effort to consciously have a good time and not flare up. And I made an effort not to escape from my family, like I had been doing for the last month or so. Both of us had done exactly what the other wanted.

So last night's slug fest didn't go in vain after all...

Grin and Bear It

2007-04-17T08:34:00.000+01:00

Ok, this was really weird.

Those of you that know me know that I scoff at the idea of the supernatural, anything that cannot be explained by cold logic or science. So, naturally, when mum goes onto her philosophical ramblings from time to time, I naturally tend to get sarcastic.

This is two days before the deadline for the Inlaks scholarship application (I got into Oxford, by the way. MPhil Eco. Yay!) and I desperately need to gather certificates and letters as proof of my extra curricular achievements. I'm basically dying. I have to go to school in the morning to get a letter from the principal. Then I need to go to college to get one from the music society staff advisor. I need to drive back to Gurgaon and get shakesoc letterheads from Meetali. Then I need to to to dad's office to get my shakesoc letter printed. In the evening I need to pop into Sanjoy Roy's house (he owns Teamwork Films - I did a play with them once) to get a letter from him. Finally, I need to go to Aamir Raza Husain's house (two plays with him) to get a letter from him. Really tight schedule. Planned down to the last minute.

It also happens to be the day when dad has to go to Calcutta (oops.. Kolkata) for a meeting. For which I have to drop him to the airport at 5 am.

And this is what happens...

I wake up at 4 am and lie in my bead, reasoning that dad will wake me up when we need to leave. So I basically keep lying there till 7 am (by which time I'm wondering how the sun's come up before dad came to wake me up) until MUM comes to wake me up telling me that dad missed his flight cause he couldn't wake himself up. Now he's on a 9-something am flight. DAMN. Whole day thrown out of gear. Delayed by a good 2 hours. Which meant by the time I'd reach college, it would be cutting it real fine.

So I grumble about it and go to drop dad. He waits till we get to the airport, and then springs it on me. I'm to take the car for servicing and then proceed to whatever I was to proceed to. A murmur of protest is met with the usual 'YOU CAN'T DO THIS MUCH FOR YOUR FAMILY? THINK OF THE SACRIFICES WE'VE MADE FOR YOU, ETC, ETC, ETC' sermon.

So I take the car to the service station. By the time I reach there, its 9:30. And, surprise surprise, when I reach there, the guard walks up to the car window, rests both his forearms on the car, gives me a sadistic smile and says calmly 'woh to shift ho gaya. sector 14. yahan siraf denting. servicing wahan.' DAMN!

So I try to follow the guy's directions till the new service centre location, and, surprise surprise, I get lost. I roam Gurgaon, driving in every possible direction until I land up in some godforsaken place with a huge roundabout and lots of people. I finally muster up the courage to ask a rickshawwallah. I follow his directions and get lost AGAIN. I call mum and she explained the way to me. By the time I get there, its 10:30. Ma has made it there before me. Inlaks looks like a distant dream.

So we proceed to try and hand the car in for servicing. The staff behave like shit. First, its 'you don't have an appointment'. Then there's a problem with some other customer screaming his head off at the inefficiency of Toyota. Then there's some stupid f*** up because the 'D' in the car's number plate has been entered as 'B' in Toyota's records. Then there's an inordinate 15 minute wait for no rhyme or reason at all. It's 11:30. I'm getting SERIOUSLY pissed. I lose control and give it to mum.

We finally leave the service centre at 11:35 in mum's car. And we FIGHT. Why couldn't have you put this on me before? If I don't do what I have to do then my application doesn't go in. I don't even stand a chance of getting this money. Stupid traffic! Bastards! Sons of bitches!

That's when mum started. 'You know Saattvic, everything would be fine if you just smiled and didn't blow your lid.' Yeah right! Me smiling and not screaming will make the others suddenly want to go faster. Or maybe if I smiled, the others would have had a premonition and not come out of their homes at all that day just so that I could get to college in time. What rot. I continue to fight with mum, now also accusing her of being irrational.

Well, by the time I get to college, it is 12:30. The music soc staff advisor has left college. I leave the letter with his daughter. Aneesha and I chat. She also takes a few movies off my ipod. By the time I leave, it is 1 pm.

I hurry to school and find everyone leaving. I reach there just before the final bell rings. I needed to get Baveen Gupta to proof read the letter, somehow transfer it onto the school letterhead and then get it signed by the principal. I catch Baveen ma'am on her war to her bus, and I jab the letter in front of her face. She proof reads it and hands it to me just before her bus leaves. Then I hurry to the principal. She's leaving too, for an important meeting. She has a look at the letter and says 'this will look nice on the special letterhead, not the normal one.' So where do I get a special letterhead? 'Oh, Baveen ma'am has them.' But Baveen ma'am is almost home by now. 'Then do it tomorrow morning.' And out she goes in a puff. DAMN!!! Why can't she understand that all I need is certification of my extra curricular activities in school with her sign on it. Inlaks won't care if it's a special letterhead.

So I pick up mum and grab a subway sandwich for lunch. Knowing me, that's just not enough. So I feel weak and giddy for the rest of the day. Then, because there's only one car, mum drops me off at Dhaula Kuan from where I take a bus to IFFCO chowk, from where I get someone on a bike to drop me to the service station.

I go to Meetali's and pick up the letterheads. Of course, I get lost while going there, even though I've been there thrice before. I send Sanjoy an SMS reminder. Please bring letter. Promptly comes the reply. 'Sorry. Forgot. Will do tomorrow. S' DAMN!!!!!!!!

So I get to dad's office. There are three printers there. all three decide to take sanyaas when I step into the office. I get there at 5:30. I give a print command, and the printout looks like it's been used as toiletpaper. Not once, but about ten times. I get to the next printer, which just refuses to print. I go to the third printer, which refuses to be recognized by any computer. So I'm stuck. We work all three printers turn by turn, again and again. But no luck. I can see my life flash before my eyes. I'm going to die. By the time I get a decent printout, its 8pm. One of the printers has mercy on me the moment I remember what ma said and smile. It's a really tired smile of hopelessness and exasperation, but it works. I can't believe it. How cruel can fate be? You mean if I had smiled all day, everything would have turned out fine? I dunno. I decide to give it a try at Aamir's place.

I get there at 9:30 pm. Smiling. It works. I walk in, get sent straight to the computer, type out the letter, print two copies, walk up to Aamir, who promptly signs them. Then I make small talk for 10 minutes, and I'm out.

But it really didn't work out perfectly. I developed this nagging cough when I went to drop dad. Through the day it gets worse, and by the time I leave Aamir's, I have a cough, a fever, a cold and a post-nasal drip.

I'm still recovering. I haven't been to the gym in a week and I feel like an OOOOOLD man.

The next day, I smiled my way through and everything went according to plan. I even barged into a meeting that the school principal was having with the headmasters and the chairperson of the school board. I got away with the smile. She signed the papers. No one else was let in but me.

So grin and bear it, things will always turn out for the better. How? I don't know. But it happened.

Childhood memories

2007-02-20T17:14:00.000Z

Digging in to one's childhood can be a lot of fun...

inky-pinky-ponk-kee
father-had a-donk-kee
donkey-died-father-cried
inky-pinky-ponk-kee

tippy-tippy-tap
which-colour-do you-want

yankee-doodle-went to-town
riding-on a-po-nee
stuck a-feather-in his-cap and
called it-maca-ro-ni

i sent a-letter-to my-father
on the-way i-dropped-it
someone-came and-picked it-up and
put it-in his-po-cket

ring a-ring o-ro-ses
a pocket-full of-po-sies
atish-shoo-atish-shoo
we all-fall-down

jack and-jill went-up the-hill to
fetch a-pail of-wa-ter
jack fell-down and-broke his-crown and
jill came-tumbling-af-ter

baa baa-black sheep- have you any-wool
yes sir-yes sir-three bags-full
one for my-master-one for my-dame
and one for the-little boy who-lives down the-lane

georgie-porgie-pudding and-pie
kissed the-girls and-made them-cry
when the-boys came-out to-play
georgie-porgie-ran a-way

humpty-dumpty-sat on a-wall
humpty-dumpty-had a great-fall
all the king's-horses-and all the king's-men
couldn't put-humpty to-gether a-gain

And my favourite...

teri chop ho gayi!!!!!

Add some of your own if you are so inclined.

All hail ... umm ... hail

2007-02-11T17:02:00.000Z

Today was just a bad day. India grabbed defeat from the jaws of victory.

Then, to make it worse, it started. Rabi crops all over the northern plains must have been destroyed. Agricultural prices will go through the roof. The hailstorm was the worst I've ever seen.

A few images of the havoc and destruction...

Cricket and me

2007-02-09T16:35:00.000Z

We share a strange relationship, cricket and I. Ask those who know us both. Cricket gives me strange pleasure every time I see him. I marvel at his beauty, his unpredictability, his crazy anecdotes. He seems at times to have all the time in the world, yet sometimes he's in such a hurry. He's changed so much since people first got to know him. Being with him is not like your usual one night stand. No. I keep going back. And it gets better and better.

Those of you who know me know that I'm crazy about cricket. Those of you, however, who've had the unfortunate experience of actually playing with me know that I can't play to save my life. I just watch. And feel. Some say you need to have played the game to really appreciate it. Maybe. But I think the pleasure it holds for the player is different from the pleasure it holds for the viewer. Due to my severe limitations as far as sporting ability is concerned, I will never really know what it is like to cream a fast outswinging half volley for four through the covers. I'm no natural athlete. But I sure as hell can enjoy watching the game. You can't stop me learning about it.

The first time I remember being really interested in cricket was when India went from 101-1 to 120-8 in that semi-final against Sri Lanka in the 1996 World Cup. Since then, it's been an affair. I watched India fumble through the 1999 WC. I remember us beating England after making just 233. The match was played over two days, and I saw it while on holiday in Almora on an antiquated TV with hazy reception. I remember the 2000 Championship Trophy when we beat Australia and South Africa to get to the finals. And how Kumble and co. meekly surrendered the final to Cris Cairns after all but winning it. I watched the 2001 Australia series through my 10th boards - the last match finished the day of my last exam (I got 79.2%). The 2003 WC through my 12th boards (90.4% - yay!!!). The Adelaide test when a bunch of crazy Stephanians filled out the common room, clambered up onto TT tables and started chanting "DRAVID!!!!DRAVID!!!!" so loudly that we were heard in Kamla Nagar. The Multan test. The win in the Windies after three painstaking draws.

I tried my hand at playing as well, though. I went out to purchase equipment. I acquired a bat. Then I looked for a ball. Being a purist, I absolutely refused to play with a tennis ball. How not-cricket it would be to play with a tennis ball. Logic tugged at me the other way. The tennis ball was cheaper, it would last longer and would hurt less when it hit me. But one fact obliterated all these objections. I would only have my bro to play with. So one of us had to bowl continuously while the other batted. And he was - and is - incapable of lugging himself over the turf at any speed greater than 2 miles an hour. So fast bowling was out of the question. Spin it was to be. And we all know that spin can be bowled properly with only a real cricket ball. So the cricket ball it was to be.

My bro and I went down to the nearest patch of green - a badly maintained municipal park with generous smatterings of bullshit, cowshit, horseshit and anthills (quite possibly antshit too, now that I come to think of it). Due to our scholarly commitments, we usually ended up playing around noon during the summer holidays. It was tremendous fun. I'd have to bowl and bowl and bowl ... and bowl. My bro managed to spank me for four every time I tried bowling leg spin (which, obviously, never spun) and managed to deliver the ball within 10 feet of where he took guard. So I bowled off spin most of the time. I was more successful at this. I managed to nail him in the 'goolies' quite a few times as my deliveries would unexpectedly turn and bounce of a fullish length. Then I'd bowl a loose full toss that he would miss and it would hit him on his ankles, sending him into an extremely melodramatic drama-queenesque routine where he routinely insinuated that because I couldn't get him out in a cricketing fashion, I was trying to injure him.

It was, of course, rubbish.

By the time I had got him out (he always insisted that he batted first) the summer sun had sapped me of all liquids. I believe I lost a good 3 kilos every time I played in that weather. I would head towards my bro to get the bat so that I could take guard, but he would uproot the stumps and declare that he was going home. He was tired, he would say. And he feigned deep breathing and a general look characteristic of ancient Egyptian labourers after they had spent 20 hours hauling huge stones around without food or water. Funny how all he ever did was swing the bat standing rooted to one place (what's the point to runs with only one person in the team - there's no body at the other end to run and the only fielder was the bowler) while I had to run in, bowl (which has been proven to take more energy than swinging a bat) continuously for about 15 overs on average with no breaks between overs and fetch the ball to wherever he hit it. And HE was tired after it all.

Sometimes I managed to convince him to stay by promising that I'd fetch the balls myself when I batted. And he would then grudgingly stand rooted to one place and swing his arm over his shoulder and deliver slow looping balls that took forever to get to me. If I suggested that he try bowling with a bit more energy, he would walk right back home.

Thus it came to be that I became a master at playing the forward defensive shot to slow loopy balls delivered at 1.5 miles an hour. I never dared cover driving them cause then I'd have to go fetch.

Things have changed a little now. Now he's developed a sense of fairness and usually lets me bat. He also bowls a fastish ball (clocked at 2.5 miles an hour) once in a while to bamboozle me. We now play most of our cricket indoors, with the pitch measuring six feet in length and being made entirely of marble. If the ball hits anything apart from the ground, the batsman is declared out. So quite naturally, we've hit, among other things, several bottles of Maggi Tomato Ketchup (I aim for the Hot N Sweet variety cause my bro relishes it and I don't), glasses, plates (one actually had a full dinner in it when it was struck) and a fancy miniature glass tree. We still use a cricket ball, of course. Spins more.

It's quite funny, but I've never ever seen an international match live. I've never even seen a first class game live. My one and only viewing experience of a properly organized match between two recognized teams was in Washington DC. A club of Indian expats played a club of West Indian expats on a matting wicket in some obscure school ground.

It's quite a coincidence I got to see the match at all, actually. The family was on vacation. We were staying with a cousin sister of dad's. But we had misplanned. We ended up in Washington for too long with too little to do. So, we played cricket. The kids there didn't know the first thing about cricket, so my bro and I taught them. The elder of the two actually learnt a decent form of the forward defensive, and even developed a rudimentary bowling action (perfectly legal, in fact) which afforded him a mild degree of leg spin. The younger one, however, continued to resemble Muttiah Muralitharan when he batted. And attempts at bowling caused the ball to disappear in every conceivable place.

Frustrated, they eventually introduced me to a kid called Arjun, who was, i think, around eight at the time. He batted left handed and said he wanted to be like Sachin Tendulkar. We played cricket for several days after that, even though I was twice his age. He was good. HE routinely flayed me around the road on which we played, occasionally stopping to let a car go past, smiling at its curious inhabitants who were quite unused to gully cricket. His granddad had evidently played for the Delhi Ranji team, and his dad captained this Indian expat club I was talking about.

So I was delighted when the kid's dad asked me if I wanted to see the club game. I was thrilled. My first cricket match. I thought he was being mighty generous - taking someone he didn't know from Adam to watch a cricket match. It was when he picked me up that I found out the real reason. We stopped over at his house en route to the ground and he popped inside to get an extra pair of whites. "For you," he said. A strange look of bewilderment took over my face. "We aren't usually able to field 11 players, so you can play if we're short this time". Drat. Didn't he know that I was being taken to the cleaners by his eight year old son? Did he seriously expect me to face up to West Indians? Bowling bouncers at god only knows how many miles an hour?

I began to mentally prepare. I hoped my looping off spinners could be of some use. I could try and hang around against the spinners when they were bowling, but I'd never played fast bowling in my life. Certainly with a cricket ball. As it turned out, 11 players turned up and I wasn't needed. I heaved a huge sigh of relief. I was instead made scorer from our side. My counterpart was a fat, jovial West Indian woman who was apparently the wife of one of the players on the other side. None of us had ever kept score before.

They batted first after we lost the toss. They went slow and steady for the first half of the innings, before a chap called C Green massacred our poor left arm spinner for 21 runs in one over. Thereafter, they piled on the agony. Green managed, I believe, four of five sixes and scored well over fifty. It was a difficult job keeping track of who was batting or bowling because, strangely enough, I didn't know most of the Indian players and my counterpart didn't know to many of the West Indian players. This being the state of our intimacy with our own sides, it is not hard to appreciate that we didn't know a soul on our respective opposing sides either. So every time a batsman went in to bat, or a bowler came on to bowl, we would shout "BATSMAN'S NAME" or "BOWLER'S NAME" at the top of our voices repeatedly until some bloke at the boundary would grow tired of it and start staring us down.

If the Indian bowlers were ineffectual, the batting was hardly better. You see, most of the expats on either side were not what you would call spring bucks. Most had sufficiently large bellies and some even had receding hairlines. It was no surprise, then, that the Indian fielders were tardy in the field and dropped catches galore. The West Indian fielders were no better, but the bowling made all the difference. The opening partnership for the Indians went about at a snails pace, and then eventually wickets started falling at regular intervals. Arjun's dad showed some urgency but he holed out to long off. He came back having scored 17 trying to convince everyone that he had intended to lobb the ball into the vacant space between mid off and long off, but his bat was so good that the shot carried all the way to long off.

It was real funny when a chap known to me only as Phani (pronounced 'funny') was going in to bat. The West Indian woman demanded to know the batsman's name. Now, Arjun's dad had given me the nicknames of a few players instead of the real names. So, I put them down on my scoring sheet. Phani could be a short name for a whole host of good, long, distinctly Indian sounding names. But it was hard for the West Indian woman to contain herself when I told her that 'funny' was going out to bat next. And when a woman of that girth fails to contain herself, she attracts attention from everyone within earshot. All eyes turned to the two scorers sitting together. A bellowing Hardy accompanied by a sheepish, embarrassed looking Laurel. I tried in vain to explain to her that I meant P-h-a-n-i and not f-u-n-n-y. She said it sounded like f-u-n-n-y and started bellowing again. She was right. I put this one down to cultural differences and moved on.

In the end, the Indians lost badly. They made 167 and we managed either 114 or 115 (my scoring sheet showed 114 while my counterpart's showed 115). One of their towering fast bowlers had bowled an over of fast yorkers that fetched him two wickets without giving away a single run. I doubt many youngsters in India can bowl as fast as that middle aged West Indian expat. We were thoroughly outplayed.

In the car on the way back, the poor left arm spinner was with me. He had been dismissed for a duck in the Indian innings. The conversation veered towards C Green's innings. I had been restraining myself from speaking for a long time. I was, after all, just a little kid who couldn't play for nuts and this chap was part of a club side. And, there was naturally nothing complimentary that I could say to this chap after what he had done on the field. I tried hard, but soon I lost the battle. "That chap took you for 21 runs that over, you know." Why did I have to open my mouth? And of all things say THAT? I remember the look he gave me after that remark. It was a mixture of a sheepish, embarrassed smile and a glare that seemed to be saying "wait till I meet you alone in some dark alley..."

I have been gymming regularly to counter such a situation.

New Year's Resolutions - Adi's tag

2007-01-14T11:59:00.000Z

Well, here goes. The sane ones first.

Gym regularly for at least 6-7 months.
Get off my arse and DO something.
Mind my language.
Procure and read every Wodehouse novel I can get my hands on.
Find a way around 'the egg problem'.
Motivate Gautmik to blaze his way to glory in the class 12 boards.
Motivate Gautmik to join the gym after he blazes his way to glory in the class 12 boards.
Find a nice dentist in Gurgaon and get my teeth fixed once and for all.
Learn how to dance.
Dress well.
Get back to the tabla with a vengeance.

And now the rest.

Inject highly virulent viruses into Bush and Blair.
Make all the major religious leaders in this world homosexual and then see what they say about the issue.
Become PM and raze all manner of quotas to the ground.
Invent a time machine.
Eat 30 tubes of toothpaste.
Blow up the road in front of my house so that I can sleep peacefully at night.
Outlaw clothing.
Blow up the education ministry.
Travel to Antarctica.
Take sanyaas in the Himalayas.

Being Queer

2007-01-14T08:55:00.000Z

Firstly, sorry for being away for so long. Stuff happened. I had to go to Bombay (oops... Mumbai) to give my GRE. I had to act in two plays. I'll tell you about those later. But because of the two plays, I had to leave the gym. Damn. But silver lining to dark cloud - I didn't have to eat egg. But now I've started gymming again. I'm giving my system some time to get used to the increased protein intake (what with the sudden bombardment of paneer and soya - its giving my stomach a strange air of naughtiness it never quite had before) before I think on the lines of egg again. Maybe I'll just settle for protein supplements instead...

Anyway, I'm writing this to let all you normal folks know that I'm gay. Undeniably queer. That's what I am. And many of you chaps have such grave misconceptions about gay people that it has ceased being intelligent. I'm going to tell you what it's like being queer, at least how it has been for me.

Its not easy. It hits you just out of puberty. It occurs to you that you tend to look more at boys than at girls. And cause you are the kid that you are, chances are that you think being gay means being happy. Then you start finding out, and you realize that you are a homosexual. But you think that by the time you grow up, this, too, shall pass. That you'll end up marrying and having kids and play with them like your parents played with you. That you'll visit your relatives with family and make your kids memorize the names of those strange people whom they seem to forget ten minutes after you make them remember their names.

But it doesn't happen. You keep growing up and you start to get worried. I did. I don't know how it was with other people, but I wished it to go away. I wished I could be 'normal' and have a happily ever after type ending like they show in the movies. It was hard to come to terms with it. But eventually I did.

My parents took it rather well. Never raised objections. Though my mom harboured hope for a long time that I would change my mind and give her grandkids whom she could play with, she eventually reconciled and the entire family is waiting for my brother to get married so that he can have kids and all of us can play with them.

The rest of the world was a different story, though. I met with some strange myths about gay people. Some understandable, some just plain prejudice.

Myth #1: Being homosexual is a choice.
Reality: There's no element of choice involved. Being gay is genetic. Believe me, if there was a choice, I would have chosen not to be gay. It's so much easier to live in a society if you're straight. It's accepted for a girl to ask a boy out and vice-versa, so people do it. But fear of social ridicule doesn't make it easy for homosexuals.

Myth #2: Gay people are 'not normal'.
Reality: Since there is no choice involved, and gay people merely respond to innate impulses, there is nothing not normal about them. It isn't even an official psychological disorder anymore. If calling gay people abnormal was justified, you could in the same breadth call non-vegetarianism and abortion abnormal with the same sense of justification. also, don't forget that in ancient India, Rome and Greece, homosexuality was recorded and accepted.

Myth #3: All gay people are effeminate.
Reality: This is a really stupid generalization. It's like saying punjabis are non-vegetarian. Some gay people are effeminate. Not all. There are many 'manly' gay people around.

Myth #4: All effeminate people are gay.
Reality: Trust me, I wish it were that simple to identify a homosexual. Some people are just effeminate, but will scoff at you if you even suggest that they are gay.

Myth #5: Straight men should stay away from gay men cause the gay men will hit on the straight men.
Reality: This is more a mindset than anything else. I had some friends who were very close to me before they found out about my being gay. After they found out, our meetings wouldn't start with the customary hug, just a loose handshake. They say they feel threatened. It's so stupid. They say "what if you feel attracted to one of us?" Really!!! Consider the following. If you were a straight man, and you felt attracted to a woman who you knew was a lesbian, would you hit on her, like, in a serious manner? Absolutely not. Similarly, if a gay man felt attracted to another man who h knew was straight, he would not hit on him. Some have come to realize this, but sadly, others haven't.

Its quite hard to convince people so, but in effect, gay people are just like straight people, except that they have a liking for the same sex. Gay people wear the same clothes, speak the same language, eat the same food, go to the same schools and work in the same professions as straight people. Homosexuals are not something to be put in a museum behind glass and labelled 'exhibit A'. Homosexuals do not require psychological treatment. Homosexual people require to be treated like normal human beings.

PS. The streetlights are on and its broad daylight! And then they don't expect us to crib when we have power cuts for 8 hours a day! What hippocracy!

Egg update

2006-11-02T11:31:00.000Z

Third day today.

After the omelette, had french toast yesterday and boiled egg today.

Were mildly more tolerable than the omelette.

Egg after 10 years

2006-10-31T05:52:00.000Z

My life has changed forever.

Yesterday at the gym, the conversation veered towards diet. The trainer, on hearing my diet, proclaimed, "It's bad enough that you're a vegetarian. But you don't eat egg? You'll have to atleast eat egg, or else you'll never get enough protien to build muscle." I said, "But I haven't eaten egg in 10 years. Mera dharm bhrasht ho jayega. I can't eat egg. Can't I make do with soya and dal?" "No," came the prompt reply, "either you eat egg or you forget about building muscle. That's it. 6 eggs a day."

6 EGGS A DAY?????

EGGS????

Help...

I came back home and my brother wouldn't stop teasing me about it. After all, I'm entirely responsible for converting 75% of my family into vegetarians.

This morning, dad volunteered to make me an omelette. "2 eggs", I said. So he made this huge fat omelette with 2 eggs and set it in front of me. "Where's the camera, Saattvic? I need to capture this. This is a historic moment." "It's out of battery", I lied.

Then my eyes slid down towards my plate. And the omelette. I stared at it. For what must have been 3 whole minutes. What I was about to eat were the beginnings of an animal. That's close enough to an actual animal to make me want to throw up. I looked at the mangled mass of white, yellow and brown and considered giving up gymming.

Dad looked at me with amusement and said, "just do a 1-2-3 and get over with it." "Ya", I said, and cut a piece off with my fork. I lifted it up to eye level, and stared. I knew it would be difficult. Then I closed my eyes and thought "you'll never get through it this way." So, without thinking about it any further, I shoved it into my mouth. Memories of 10 years ago flooded back. I recognized the taste at once. I managed to struggle through it with great difficulty, fighting back strong urges to vomit every other second.

Dad looked at me expectantly, telepathically asking me "how was it?"

"It's got too much salt."

Why you shouldn't install that bullguard on your car

2006-10-14T19:17:00.000+01:00

I was just driving down tonight along MG road, and there was this pesky guy in a Maruti Zen who was driving at, like, walking speed for no rhyme or reason and slowing everyone down. I thought to myself, "if I hit this guy from the back, he'd get smashed up real bad. And my bullguard will protect my car. Go for it Saattvic, go for it." Then the boring side of me took over. I just swerved past him and indicated that he should drive on the left side of the road.

But here's the really wierd side of me. I started thinking about economic methods and their application to that situation.

In particular, I thought about the incentives at work that determine the rashness of our driving. Look at it this way. A person will choose a particuar behaviour type if the net benefit (in terms of satisfaction) he recieves from that behaviour is more than that he recieves from any other type of behaviour. Lets say, hypothetically, there are two behaviour types as far as driving is concerned - safe and rash.

Now lets look at the net benefits recieved from both types of behaviour. If you drive safe, you recieve the moral satisfaction of obeying traffic rules and generally being right. Lets denote this by M. There are no real costs involved in safe driving, so your net benefit would be M.

Now, if you drive rashly, the situation is a bit more complicated. You recieve the benefit of a thrill; the satisfaction of an adrenalin rush, if you may. Lets call this T. The costs are of two types. Firstly, you might feel guilty about breakin the law, or being a nuisance to other drivers. There is a moral cost involved. Let this be G. Also, there is the chance that you could have an accident. Say, there is a probability a that you will have an accident if you drive rashly. a will lie between 0 and 1, with 0 signifying that there is no chance you will have an accident and 1 signifying that you will have an acident with 100% surity. If, for example, a is .3, it means that you have a 30% chance of having an accident if you drive rashly. Suppose that if you had an accident, the damage to the car would cost you D (in terms of dissatisfaction. Look at it this way. If you have an accident, you'll have to pay to get the car fixed. The cost would be the dissatisfaction of going through the repair process plus the dissatisfaction that would arise from parting from the money). Scince you'd have to undergo a cost of D with a chance of a, you'd expect on average this cost to be aD. For example, if the damage costs, say Rs. 10000 worth of dissatisfaction, but the damage happened only 10% of the time you drove rashly, you'd expect 10% of Rs. 10000, ie Rs. 1000 as a cost everytime you drove rash. So, the net benefit (benefits - costs) stand at T - G - aD.

Now, you would choose to drive safely is the net benefits of driving safely outweighed those of driving rashly, ie.

M > T - G - aD

Similarly, you'd drive rashly if

M < T - G - aD

Here's where the bullguard comes in. If you have a bullguard installed, the damage caused to your car will be less than if you didn't have a bullguard installed. In other words, if you install a bullguard, you reduce D, which means you increase T - G - aD. You increase the net benefit from driving rashly by reducing the costs of an accident. So, given your subjective values for the other variables don't change, you are more likely to choose to drive rashly if you install protective equipment like a bullguard because this reduces the costs of driving rashly.

Agreed, this is a very simple model. But if you extended it to include other variables, the conclusion would not change. Just the equation would.

So, economics and logic tell you - don't install protective gear on your car. You'll end up driving rashly more often. And even though your satisfaction levels may rise, that of the other drivers on the road will fall as they will undergo accidents just because of you. So spare a thought for them.

Rhodes

2006-10-04T19:24:00.000+01:00

Hey y'all!!!

I'm giving the preliminary interview for the Rhodes scholarship on Saturday, 7th October. Wish me luck. Please. I REALLY want it this time.

Quite ironic, though. Rhodes was such an imperialist bugger. Proponent of 'white man's burden' and all. Rhodesia was named after him and we know how racism was rife in those areas until fairly recently. And now, his trust gives us coloureds a chance to go abroad and study.

I've heard of this guy who got to the finals and was told he had been chosen for the Rhodes scholarship. He declined, saying that Rhodes was an imperialist and he had only applied out of respect to a teacher who had believed in him and asked him to apply. I had asked myself if I was strong enough to do the same thing. Now I know that I am not. I want that scholarship so bad. The fame. The chance to go to Oxford. Free. I'm too greedy. And deep down inside, I hate myself for it.

But there's another part of me that doesn't think it's a big issue at all. See, since I started college, I observed how much of an impact your environment can have on your thinking. I know a few exceptionally nice people - people who take extra pains to find and follow the right path - who think that homosexuality is evil just because they've been raised in an environment that conditions them so. Maybe that was the thing with Rhodes. Maybe he was in an environment which genuinely made him believe that 'white man's burden' was good, and imperialist policies would actually better the lives of us coloureds.

What I wouldn't give to know what actually went on in the mind of Cecil Rhodes. So much depends on it. For me. I need to know. But I know I cant. And I know I'll keep wanting to know even though I know I'll never be able to know...

Just to take my mind off things

2006-10-01T17:45:00.000+01:00

Well, I've just had a rotten evening. So I need to unload.

YOU'RE ALL INVOLVED IN A GLOBAL CONSPIRACY TO MAKE ME FEEL MISERABLE AT THE MOST INOPPORTUNE MOMENTS. I HATE YOU ALL.

Ok, so now that I've done that, let me say that I actually love you all. I love being alive. There's beauty all around us. In fact, a few days ago, it was raining. There was water dripping into our amphitreatre. And I decided to wield my birthday present (which, incedentally, was gifted to me by my family, who I ADORE).

Help!!!

2006-09-29T17:54:00.000+01:00

I need help. I need to figure out why people fight. Why some look for reasons to spontaneously combust. Why others, seeing where the situation is leading, make no attempt to diffuse the situation. Why yet others, trying to diffuse the situation, end up shouting and pissing everyone off. Why there is always someone who is supremely unconcerned.

More importantly, I need to figure out how to avoid fights altogether. How to change the outlook of people towards life in general and conflict in particular. How to get people to live in harmony.

Help...

India Lose to the Umpires

2006-09-23T17:10:00.000+01:00

WOW!!!!!

Haddin was OUT. The ball hadn't left Bhajji's hand when he struck the wicket.

Dhoni was NOT OUT. It was a no ball that Asad Rauf refused to give.

Harbhajan was NOT OUT. There was daylight between bat and ball.

I think Asad Rauf should stick to doing this

Wotsay?

2006-09-21T08:20:00.000+01:00

Congrats to Team India for a wonderful win!!!!

But I still think Ganguly should be brought back.

Have Pity on the Bald Man

2006-09-20T18:03:00.000+01:00

I am a poor soul, I am. You know why? Well, I'll tell you why.

They made me shave off my hair!!! For the play. I had to get it shaved off. At first I thought it would be cool. But the moment I saw the finished product at the local barber's shop, I knew it was a mistake. A big one. One that would take months to rectify. It was end July.

It got worse!!! The director told me to cultivate a band of hair around the back of my head. So that I looked balding instead of bald. So until the 16th of September, I regularly shaved a circular patch on the top of my head and left it to grow.

It was painstaking. I had to cover my head wherever I went. At first with a horrible dark blue bandana. Then with a fisherman's cap. I had to fight to enter an ATM cause they have rules about headgear.

You know what was even worse? Not one person in the audience at any given performance believed that the real thing was on display. They thought I had a latex skull cap on. Imagine! Here's me, the poor dedicated actor, going through all this pain and personal humiliation so that I looked authentic on stage, and people didn't even acknowledge the effort. Woe is me!

And now starts the painful process of rehabilitation. I just shaved off the band of hair I'd cultivated. But now I'm faced with scores of wierd homonids who, at the very first glance of me, express an overwhelming desire to stroke my pate. They finger it as if it were an exotic animal. They make wondrous comments about it among themselves. "It feels strange," they say. Yeah right. THEY feel strange. How bout poor little freak-show me? I feel like I should be in a circus. At least I'd get paid when people stroked my head!!

O, have pity on me...

Why Ganguly should be brought back

2006-09-20T08:41:00.000+01:00

You know, the amount of hoo-haa surrounding this Ganguly controversy has already crossed the limits of sanity. I don't want to add to it. I'll try to be as logical as possible.

What's the most important thing as far as team India is concerned? Winning, right? Right. So, it doesn't matter too much whether the captain gets runs or not as long as the team wins, right? Right.

The fact is that as far as tests are concerned, under Ganguly, we've won 21 out of 49 - that's a win percentage of 42.86%. Under Dravid, we've won 5 out of 17, a win percentage of just 29.41%. The ODI scene is not as bad. Under Ganguly, we won 73 out of 141 (51.77%). Under Dravid we've won 25 out of 47 (53.19%), but out of the last 7 matches Dravid has captained, we have lost 5 and there have been 2 no results. Not a single win in the last 7 matches!!!

My point is that as a batsman, Dravid is way better than Ganguly, but Ganguly's captaincy skills are way better than Dravid's. Statistics show that as far as tests are concerned Ganguly contributes more to the team in overall terms (captaincy + batting) than Dravid. In ODI's the contribution is roughly the same.

So it makes sense to pick Ganguly, not for his batting skills, but purely for his captaincy skills. Look at him as an all-rounder. He's primarily a captain who also bats and bowls a bit.

How the National Rural Employment Guarantee Scheme Will Benefit You

2006-09-18T19:29:00.000+01:00

There's been a lot of talk about how the National Rural Employment Guarantee Scheme (NREGS) will go a long way in benefiting the poor and downtrodden. No doubt, if implemented properly, it will promote equality and lead to fuller economic development.

But get this. The NREGS will benefit not only rural areas, but also all of you, sitting in front of your computer screens in urban centres across India. How? It will benefit you because it will lessen rural-urban migration. The biggest problem plaguing cities in India is that they are getting too crowded. Crowded with migrants from rural areas all over the country. As a result, there's tremendous stress on infrastructure. Power and water shortages become commonplace. Pollution increases. Public amenities like sanitation and health facilities deteriorate. Wouldn't it be nice if people stopped flooding into cities?

Now what does all this have to do with the NREGS? How will the NREGS lessen migration from rural to urban areas? Well, the answer lies in Todaro's Model of Rural-Urban Migration, or the Todaro Model for short. The Todaro Model attempts to explain when and for what reasons people migrate from rural to urban areas. The basic reasoning is as follows.

Why does a person leave a village and go to a city? The most basic reason is that the person is looking for better employment opportunities: a job that gets him more money. If the wage a worker gets as an agricultural labourer is less than what he would get as a construction worker in the city, it makes more sense for him to go and settle in the city. So, as long as the rural wage rate is below the urban wage rate, migration should occur.

But it's not that simple. When a villager has to leave the village, he is effectively making a choice between a rural income stream and an urban income stream. The point to be noted is that the rural income stream is a certainty, whereas the urban income stream is uncertain. The person does not know whether he will find a job once he reaches the city. Therefore, the benefit from moving to the city has to be deflated by a certain degree to allow for the possibility that the person may not get a job on arrival in the city. Then these two benefits must be compared - the benefit from staying, ie. the rural income stream, with the benefit from migrating, ie. the urban income stream deflated for the possibility of unemployment. This deflated urban income stream is called the 'expected' urban income stream.

Lets now see how this deflation is done. Say the rural wage rate is Rs. 40 and the urban wage rate is Rs. 50. However, the unemployment rate in the city is 10%. So, there is a 90% probability that the person will get a job. In other words, 90% chances are that he will get an income of Rs. 50 and 10 % chances are that he will get an income of Rs. 0. The expected income is the weighted average of these two possibilities. In our case, it would be 90% x 50 + 10% x 0 = 45 + 0 = Rs. 45. This is the same thing as saying that the expected income can be got by multiplying the employment rate with the urban income. In this example, it would benefit the person to migrate because the expected urban income is greater than the rural income. In fact, it would make sense to migrate until the unemployment rate is 20%.

Speaking generally, if the urban wage is W(U), the rural wage rate is W(R), the number of urban jobs is J(A) and the number of job seekers is J(S), then the employment rate is J(A)/J(S) and the expected urban income is W(U) x J(A)/J(S). Migration will take place if W(U) x J(A)/J(S) is greater than W(R).

However, as migration takes place, the number of job seekers increases while the number of jobs remains the same. Thus, the employment rate decreases and the expected urban income decreases. So the gap between rural income and expected urban income reduces. Migration continues until this gap is eliminated. This is the process that determines the extent of migration from rural to urban areas.

Now, how will the NREGS help? The NREGS will provide an increased rural income to its target group. So, the average rural income will rise. The gap between rural and urban income will be reduced without migration. Therefore, a lesser magnitude of migration will be necessary to further eliminate the gap between rural and expected urban incomes. If the gap between rural and urban incomes is high then the employment rate must be low for equality between rural and expected urban incomes. If the number of jobs remains the same, then this means that the number of job seekers must rise drastically, calling for greater migration. If, on the other hand, the gap is small, then the employment rate must be high to maintain that equality. With the same number of jobs, it calls for fewer job seekers than in the earlier situation, and consequently lesser migration.

So, by raising rural income levels, the NREGS will raise the standards of living of rural India so that rural Indians are less compelled to migrate to urban areas. The ideal state would be one where the rural living standard is as high as the urban living standard, and people are as happy living in a village as in a city. This is the case in a few developed countries of the world. The NREGS is the first step in the process of India attaining this state.

Time Travel

2006-09-10T19:00:00.000+01:00

So, Advitya asks me what I would do if I had usage of a time machine. Well...

1. Travel back to the time when Himesh Reshamia was recording for Aashiq Banaya and inject him with as many strains of the common cold I can find. No nose. No song. No Himesh mania.

2. Travel back to when Modern School last changed principals and engineer a horific car accident to end the shortest term anyone has ever had as principal.

3. Travel to the time when George Bush Sr. and his wife were conceiving and give them both a lethal overdose of peanut-butter.

4. Travel back to Jallianwalla Bagh and make Dyer's guns disappear as soon as that bastard yells 'fire'. And equip the Indians with all knowledge I can gather about Chinese water torture.

5. Go back to when Microsoft was formed and buy ALL the shares I could.

6. Go and mix really potent laxative in the Ausies' lunch right before the 2003 world cup final.

7. Show Colombus the goddamned route to India he was looking for. And then discover America myself.

8. Drown Dino in a huge pile of Brontosaurus shit.

9. Drown Noah and his kin while leaving the other animals unharmed on Noah's ark.

10. Go to Hitler's school and beat him up. Just so that can say so later.

11. Go bach and systematically murder everyone who had anything whatsoever to do with pioneering the concept of clothing.

12. Go back to the time of creation and tell God about Laloo Prasad Yadav.

Give the autowallah his due

2006-09-09T20:12:00.000+01:00

Chances are, if you've lived in Delhi for any length of time, you've had to haggle with any number of autowallahs who refuse to travel by meter. You've cursed them for being corrupt and fleecing poor, helpless commuters. You've decreed that autowallahs are a species that fall in the same genus as lawyers and politicians in that they have no moral character whatsoever.

Well, think again.

You know, if you visit Mumbai or Bangalore, nearly every autowallah runs by the meter. And its not that people in Mumbai are more honest or idealistic than people in Delhi: politicians and lawyers exist there as well, exhibiting more or less the same characteristics as their counterparts in Delhi. The reason that Delhi autowallahs don't run by the meter is simply that peolpe are willing to pay more than what they are obliged to pay by the meter.

Lets face it - the rate structure displays a strong anti-autowallah bias in Delhi. In Mumbai, the rate is Rs. 9 for the 1st km and Rs. 10 for every km thereafter. In Delhi, the rate is Rs. 8 for the 1st km and Rs. 3.5 for every km thereafter. That means an auto ride should cost about a third for the same distance in Delhi as it does in Mumbai. How fair is that? Is fuel so much cheaper in Delhi? Or is the auto chassis that much cheaper? Clearly not.

What the meter throws up in Delhi is, therefore, way below what the commuter thinks the service is worth. So he agrees to pay some more. If all commuters decided not to travel at rates above the official one, do you think that autowallahs could charge the rates they do?

If all this sounds like a load of bull to you, hang on. There's a lot of economic logic behind this argument. The market for auto services can loosely be characterized as perfectly competitive. The price established via the demand supply equilibrium is widely regarded as the optimum price. If the administered price is below this optimum, then comuters will be more willing to travel by auto while autowallahs will be less willing to take on commuters. There will be a shortage of services and there will be tendencies for the price to rise. But since the price cannot rise legally, it does so illegally. A black market gets formed with the price colser to the market price.

People at parties

2006-09-09T19:23:00.000+01:00

I celebrated my birthday on the 7th of sept, and, for the first time in my life, organized a party for college-age people. Apart from finding that it is tremendously hard work and takes immense planning, I was also amazed at the various types of behaviour displayed by the people attending. Between drinking, eating, chatting and a bit of dancing, everyone had their strange quirks.

HSD was the perpetual back-up. He was always ready to lend a helping hand, even if it involved physical labour. The classic 'if-i-needed-someone-to-save-my-life-i'd-chose-him' man.

AB went through extra pains not to be a pain. He was also extremely helpful when I was getting stressed. He later went to the terrace to watch the lunar eclipse with HSD.

MK, NA, AKJ, AM and CAK landed up 15 minutes EARLY. Can you believe it? And I thought I lived in Gurgaon!!!

MK was incessantly worried about getting home before her deadline so that her dad didn't get mad. She eventually went home an hour late, but her dad didn't get mad.

NA was continually consoling MK.

AKJ quickly had a drink, moaned that he would not be able to donte blood the next day, and promptly went to sleep.

CAK had a drink, monopolized the computer and, his work done, also promptly went to sleep. On MY bed!

AJ was stuck to AM like someone had attached them together with fevicol. The two of them spent time together everywhere, including my bedroom!!! Later, AM went to a friend's house to crash. AJ couldn't stand the separation and five minutes later also went to the same friend's house. He eventually came back, and chatted with me until 5:30 am about the association between politics and our college's theatre society.

NiA refused to refer to the map I had painstakingly made and kept calling me every 2 minutes for directions. At the party, he was busy trying to convince everyone that he WAS drunk and that he HAD met them sometime earlier, even though he WASN'T drunk and HADN'T met most of the other people earlier.

VRB was busy taking care of NiA. He even made NiA drive right behind him on the way back.

GK and RM found soulmates in each other, even though this was only the second time they had met (the first time being during an inter-college play competition when RM had felt 'dry' all of a sudden and asked GK for moisturising lotion). They chatted almost exclusively to each other.

MM bearhuged me so hard that, for a moment, I thought I might join the select group of people who were born and died on the same day.

SS and AdM kept disappearing outside for a smoke. Soon, they acquired a fan following and my sit-out terrace started resembling a smoking den.

It was quite an experience for me. The most important lesson I learnt is that one must always download good dance numbers from the net even though
1. one may detest the music during normal courses of time and
2. one may have drawn up, at some point of time, a list titled '1001 ways to administer a slow, torturous and painful death to Himesh Reshamia'.

What a 5 star hotel has to do with the law of diminishing marginal utility

2006-09-06T18:10:00.000+01:00

Well, you're going to think I'm crazy. See, all of August I was touring with a play that I'm acting in. We were lucky (at least that's what we thought we were) that ITC WelcomGroup was sponsoring us. So wherever we went we got to stay at 5 star ITC hotels. All of us were overjoyed. The thought of a month in 5 star luxury. How wrong we were!!!

By the second meal I was sick of the food. My staple diet after that was dal, subzi, roti, raita and chawal. And I would sit at the table and listen to others bitch about the food. "The steak tastes like they cooked a dog!!!". "This chicken is so underdone that I can still hear its heartbeat". all this while I was slowly getting sick of my vegetarian food as well. About halfway through the tour I had made up my mind that what I was eating was in fact plastic food. Something which doesn't taste like food but only looks like it.

Then there was the staff. You know, it's all well and fine to be nice to your guests, but just like the plastic food, the plastic smiles started to irk me no end. They were always too nice. Sometimes, I could swear that I saw them bitching about us when they thought we weren't looking. And the next minute the same people with would sweet talk us showing us the same sets of 32 (sometimes fewer) teeth that we had come to be so well acquainted with. I tell you, I actually started recognizing staff members by their teeth after a point.

Then there was this crazy ITC policy. Since they are part of WelcomGroup, anything and everything had to be prefixed by Welcom. So we were served WelcomCroissants at breakfast and WelcomKathis for snacks. We called WelcomAssictance for anything and everything. It got to a point when we started wondering why the bathrooms didn't have sashes around the toilet seats proclaiming WelComOde. Or why we weren't greeted on arrival by signs displaing WelcomWelcome (although above the hotel's name on the main signboard there was invariably 'WelcomHotel'). We almost expected a WelcomGoodbye when we checked out.

And then there was the pesky room service gang who would invariably land up at our WelcomDoors when we were either brushing with our WelcomBrushes, or showering in the WelcomShowers, or sleeping on our WelcomBeds (after applying scented oils to our temples which were, incedentally, labelled WelcomSleep). Or cleaning our bottoms with the WelcomToiletRoll (it took me quite a time to get used to using water once we got back).

And can you imagine what we had to go through without certain basic amenities that weren't part of the sponsorship deal? Like the net. Usage of the net costs anywhere between Rs. 300 and Rs. 600 per hour. A simple text only printout costs Rs. 50 per page. Can you imagine what I had to go through to write my personal statement for my rhodes application? I had to hunt for cybercafes outside the hotels while my tourmates were busy having fun on the beach!

Well, so basically I came to the conclusion that 5 stars are overrated. And I decided that it made no sense to actually pay what the hotel charged for the services it rendered.

But that got me wondering. If five stars can actually be so putting off, why are prople willing to pay so much to stay in them. Then the answer hit me. The law of diminishing marginal utility. It states that each successive (marginal) unit consumed of a good provided lesser satisfaction (utility) than the previous unit. It makes sense, think about it. It tells you that, for example, if you're really thirsty, you'll gulp down one glass of water and think that the satisfaction was better than sex. When you have the second glass, chances are that you'd prefer sex to the satisfaction gained from that glass. By the third, the satisfaction level decreases further. By the time you're on the tenth glass, you probably feel thet you'll puke if you have another sip.

Now say you had to pay for each glass of water. Say the price is Rs. 10 per glass. Would you drink the first glass? Probably yes. The satisfaction gained from that first glass is probably more than the dissatisfaction incurred by parting with Rs. 10. In other words, the satisfaction is worth more than Rs. 10. How many glasses would you drink? Simple. You'd keep drinking till the satisfaction gained is worth Rs. 10 or more. Once the satisfaction slips below Rs. 10 worth, you'd stop. Say this happens to you at the 5th glass. The 5th glass is worth exactly Rs. 10 to you. So you'd stop at 5. But if you were given water free, you'd go on till the the next glass gave you no satisfaction whatever, ie. till the tenth glass.

This is something like what happened to us at the hotels. We spent an entire month in 5 star hotels. So each successive day became less exciting and gave us less satisfaction than the previous day. Eventually, we felt that home food was better than hotel food. But the point is that we weren't charged for it. So we kept having the food. Well, actually, at times we preferred eating out (and paying for our food), showing that halfway through the tour, hotel food gave us no satisfaction.

This explains two things. Firstly, it explains why we felt that 5 stars were overrated. We were using services that, after a point, we felt were overpriced because we weren't prepared to pay the listed price for those services. Fact is we'd used those services so much that they'd stopped giving us the satisfaction levels that would have warranted the listed prices. Secondly, it explains why people actually pay and stay in such places. The simple explanation is that they do so for a few days at max. They only pay for hotel rooms as long as the satisfaction gained from staying at the hotel is worth more than the price they are charged. They don't stay after the law of diminishing marginal utility causes the satisfaction levels to fall below the price.

So are 5 star hotels actually overrated, or can basic economics explain why some people feel so? You decide...

Thaap

2006-09-05T17:12:00.000+01:00

This one's for Advitya.

There's one particular bol or sound that comes from the tabla that is kinda special for me. Its called the thaap. Its a sound that takes LOTS of practice to produce. It happens when all five fingers of the right hand strike the tabla such that the force of the impact is focussed on the lav. (There are three parts to the tabla's surface - the middle black circle called the 'syahi', a first concentric band called the 'lav', pronounced 'love', and the outer rim or concentric circle called the 'chaanti) The impact is akin to a slap. The sound is a deep, resonating one that lasts longer than other, more usual sounds.

The cool thing is that not every tabla player can do it. In fact, the thaap is traditionally used only in the benaras gharana. (A gharana is a style of playing. There are six styles - delhi, lucknow, farukhabad, ajrada, benares and punjab) The reason is probably that the benares gharana is closest in playing style to the pakhawaj, the instrument from which, according to some, the tabla evolved, and which regularly employs the thaap. The pakhawaj is much more open/loud/aggressive than the tabla, but within the tabla, the benares gharana is the loudest/most open/most aggressive.

So, it gives me great pleasure when I am performing after some other tabla player to flaunt the thaap with gay abandon, knowing fully well that the other chap is most likely incapable of doing the same.

Aurovile and Communism

2006-09-05T12:55:00.000+01:00

Anyone have thoughts about communism? Are you left wing or right wing? And for what reasons?

This is a project I wrote while in college. It's a bit streched out, but bear with it.

AUROVILLE AND COMMUNISM

Introduction

An experiment is underway 10 km north of Pondicherry in the state of Tamil Nadu on the Coromandel Coast of India. On February 28th 1968, the Mother, a spiritual leader and disciple of Sri Aurobindo, founded ‘The City of the Future’ in a grand inauguration ceremony attended by representatives of 124 countries from across the world. Soil from 23 Indian states and all 124 countries represented was placed in a marble urn, and the Mother read out Auroville’s charter. In the Mother’s words, Auroville was to be “a universal township where men and women of all countries are able to live in peace and progressive harmony, above all creeds, all politics and all nationalities.” According to the Mother, “the purpose of Auroville is to realise human unity.”

It is my contention that, knowingly or unknowingly, what the Mother established closely fits the communist model envisaged by the Marxist tradition. During the course of this project, I shall look briefly at the essential features of communism and observe how Auroville fits into - or was intended to fit into - the broad framework of communism, following which I shall undertake an analysis of the overall impact of Auroville. I shall then speculate as to the future prospects of communism in general and Auroville in particular.

Essential Features of Communism

The idea of communism is based on Marx’s theory of Historical Materialism. It is supposed to be the last step in the evolution of social formations and the ideal that all societies should strive to achieve. Without going into an analysis of the evolution of communism, one may summarize its essential characteristics as follows.

· Communism entails a classless society where there is only one economic class – that of the proletariat. In the theory of Historical Materialism, one of the basic factors that lead to change is the existence of various socio-economic classes with one being exploited by the other. For instance, in capitalism, the capitalists exploit the workers and in feudalism, the lords exploit the serfs. It is this antagonism between classes that leads to friction and a ‘class struggle’, where the powerful and exploitative class is overthrown and the social formation changes. In communism, a class struggle cannot arise because no one is capable exploiting anyone else based on their economic standing. The economic standing of everyone is the same due to the next feature.

· In a communist set up, all assets are owned collectively by the society or ‘commune’, including the means of production. The basis for exploitation in capitalism, for instance, was that the capitalists owned capital, which wielded power over the workers due to its scarcity. Communism entails no private ownership of means of production, and this reduces all members of society to a common standing. All capital goods and even businesses are collectively owned. Labour is also viewed in a sense as belonging to the society, and as such all work is done keeping the goals of the society and not of the individual in mind. In addition to means of production, other assets such as houses are also collectively owned.

· Each member works according to his capacity. There is no external compulsion faced to work harder, the motivation is assumed to be internal. This presupposes that work per se is not viewed anymore as a means to earn a livelihood but as an end in itself. In other words, people work for the pleasure they get from working, and nothing else. Work in itself provides utility and not disutility.

· Each member receives according to his needs. This presupposes that each member has realized the true extent of his needs, and does not want to appropriate anything in excess of this need.

· For the system to survive, the total output produced must be at least as great as the sum total of the needs in society. This needs the attainment of a high level of productivity so that the limited man-hours applied can yield enough to satisfy the needs of all members of society.

· There needs to be perfect information, in that each member of society needs to be acutely aware as to how much of his labour he needs to allocate to the production of each good so as to prevent shortages in specific goods. For instance, say very few people in society are willing to take up farming as a career (as there is no compulsion). This will lead to a shortage of food and the needs of the society in this regard will not be met. To prevent such a situation, a system needs to be in place whereby each individual in the society comprehends exactly the demand for food in the society, the amount of food being produced currently and the extra man-hours required to produce the shortfall before members are in a position to reallocate their labour towards farming and away from what they are currently producing. In case a shortage does develop, the members of the society will have to voluntarily curtail consumption instead of each member trying to appropriate a share that would satisfy him. However, it must be emphasized that this does not amount to a negation of the contention that near-perfect knowledge needs to exist, as a society characterized by perennial shortages and surpluses would not inspire much faith in the system among its members. Communism is supposed to do away with fluctuations, not reinforce them.

· A change in the superstructure is necessary, so that individuals behave in such a way so as to maximize not their individual objective functions, but the objective function of the society as a whole.

· As may be fairly evident, communism requires that each member of society is highly educated so as to understand the society in entirety and his place in society. Capitalism could function if individuals tried only to make themselves as well off as possible, but communism needs an individual to understand the functioning of all facets of society so as to realize how to behave in order to benefit society as a whole.

· There is no role for money in a communist society as the needs system is structured in such a way that satiation is possible (a far cry from neo-classical economists who have all but assumed away satiation), and the total produce of the society is at least as great as the sum of these needs. Thus there is no shortage in the economy, or even if there is, self rationing takes place. Everyone simply appropriates according to his needs. Goods are not exchanged as per the law of value, and as such production under communist is of ‘goods’ (which are produced for consumption) rather than of ‘commodities’ (which are produced for exchange).

· As each member of society has a broad overview of the functioning of society and dutifully fulfils his part, there is no role for a formal government to coordinate activities or even provide public services (as the society as a whole realizes the need for such goods and arranges for their provision). The elimination of the state is also necessary in that the existence of a state in itself leads to the creation of a separate class in society that has the power to exploit the general masses. A truly classless society is only possible in the absence of a state, and as such even socialism is not completely classless with ‘all being equal but some being more equal than others’ due to the presence of a state.

· This last feature is not an essential requirement, but more of an empirical observation. Wherever communism has sought to have been established, there has usually been an inspirational leader who herds the masses and convinces them about the need for change and the viability and appeal of communism. In the Soviet Union, this figurehead was Lenin, and in China it was Mao. Both these leaders followed the teachings of one great thinker – Marx.

The Communist Character of Auroville

Having laid down the essential characteristics of communism, let us now see how well Auroville fits into this model. It is insightful to briefly look at the Auroville charter:

1. Auroville belongs to nobody in particular. Auroville belongs to humanity as a whole. But to live in Auroville, one must be the willing servitor of the Divine Consciousness.
2. Auroville will be the place of an unending education, of constant progress, and a youth that never ages.
3. Auroville wants to be the bridge between the past and the future. Taking advantage of all discoveries from without and from within, Auroville will boldly spring towards future realisations.
4. Auroville will be a site of material and spiritual researches for a living embodiment of an actual Human Unity.

As is evident, the Mother, through this charter, sought to establish Auroville as the ideal society. Let us now look at how in its functioning and basic ideology, Auroville appears to fit into the Communist model outlined earlier.

· Classless society: We find evidence of an aspiration towards a classless society in the words of the Mother when she described Auroville as a place where people would live “in peace and progressive harmony, above all creeds, all politics and all nationalities.” Auroville was envisaged as a place where no one would exploit others as no one would have the means to do so. There are significant inequalities, in the sense that some Aurovillians are rich and others are poor, but these arise primarily due to the accumulated wealth of individuals before becoming part of Auroville.

· Collective ownership of assets: The charter clearly states that Auroville belongs to nobody in particular. Auroville belongs to humanity as a whole. All assets are owned by Auroville. The land, dwellings and even businesses are collective property. In the case of dwellings, on entering Auroville new residents are required to build their own dwelling, which becomes the property of Auroville, but over which the individual is given the right of occupancy. Once the dwelling is vacated by a resident, it may be allocated to someone else. There are no rents in Auroville, and as such housing is free, provided one has obtained the right to occupancy of a dwelling.

· Work according to one’s capacity: Work would not be there as the means of gaining one's livelihood, it would be the means whereby to express oneself, develop one's capacities and possibilities, while doing at the same time service to the whole group, which on its side would provide for each one's subsistence and for the field of his work. In effect, this means that work is undertaken for its own sake. Everyone in Auroville is expected to indulge in some form of productive work for the benefit of the society. However, there is no compulsion. All social services like teaching are voluntary.

· Receiving according to one’s needs: Work is not paid for in terms of wages in Auroville. Each member is entitled to a monthly ‘maintenance’, which is usually enough to take care of the basic needs of an individual. Many forego this sum as they use their own resources which they acquired before joining Auroville or are supported by their families. If a person is unable to support himself, the society takes care of all his needs. The Auroville website proudly proclaims that the needs of the body will be provided for equally in the case of each and everyone.

· Education: The charter proclaims Auroville as the place of an unending education (and) of constant progress. This parallels the need for high quality education as felt by the great thinkers in the Marxist tradition. Schooling in Auroville takes place in schools where all regular subjects are taught with an emphasis on liberal arts and sports where education is given, according to the website, not with a view to passing examinations and getting certificates and posts, but for enriching the existing faculties and bringing forth new ones. One could raise an objection that as no educational facilities exist in Auroville beyond the school level, it will not be adequately able to educate each new generation adequately. This, however, can be easily combated. The necessary education is not taught only in formal institutions, but can also be imparted at home. Further, graduates from Auroville’s school usually seek higher education outside of Auroville, but it is an empirical fact that most come back to Auroville to lead their lives. The lack of university education will only be felt when Aurovillians no longer have access to such education outside Auroville.

· Change in the superstructure: Both Sri Aurobindo and the Mother emphasized that the entire exercise of Auroville was geared towards the pursuit of ‘Human Unity’ through the attainment of the ‘Divine Consciousness’. Emphasis is laid on the ideal that in the general organisation intellectual, moral and spiritual superiority will find expression not in the enhancement of the pleasures and powers of life but in the increase of duties and responsibilities. A glimpse of the desired move from pursuing individual utility maximization to pursuing collective utility maximization, and of corresponding changes in non-production relations, is seen in the following excerpt from the website: It would be a place where the relations among human beings, usually based almost exclusively upon competition and strife, would be replaced by relations of emulation for doing better, for collaboration, relations of real brotherhood.

· Role of Money: The initial vision and the ultimate ideal towards which Auroville strives is that of a system without money.

· Government: Sri Aurobindo advocated the attainment of ‘Divine Anarchy’, but also emphasized that anarchy is only divine once the ‘Divine Consciousness’ has been attained. Auroville strives toward this ideal, but recognizes that anarchy without the ‘Divine Consciousness’ is brutal and disruptive. Therefore, some form of organization exists in Auroville until that time when the ‘Divine Consciousness’ will allow ‘Divine Anarchy’. There is no government in the formal or conventional sense. For dealings with the Government of India, a legal body has been established. Otherwise, there are committees which organize various aspects of life in Auroville, such as education, forestry, entry into Auroville, etc. The difference from a conventional government is that any Aurovillian can join any committee he wishes to and can leave at any time. While part of such bodies, Aurovillians do not enjoy special perks or privileges, and as such being part of organizational bodies does not give any extra power to a person in Auroville.

· Inspirational leader: The guiding force behind the conceptualization and actualization of Auroville was Mirra Alfassa (1878-1973), commonly known as the Mother. She was born in Paris and after a childhood filled with several inner experiences and visions she travelled to Pondicherry in 1914 to meet Sri Aurobindo. After the First World War, she settled in Pondicherry alongside Sri Aurobindo, who recognized her as the embodiment of the ‘Supreme Mother’. She was instrumental in marshalling the group of Sri Aurobindo’s followers and setting up both the Aurobindo ashram and Auroville. This parallels the model in most attempts at communist countries – a great motivator and doer implementing the ideas of a great thinker.

It may be noted that the purpose of Auroville is to enable the attainment of the ‘Divine Consciousness’. This attainment is supposed to be facilitated by living in a community with the characteristics described above. This finds parallel in Marx’s theory of Historical Materialism where first the production relations are changed and these help in the change of the superstructure.

What Auroville should not be confused with is some sort of religious cult following the teachings of Sri Aurobindo. Sri Aurobindo advocated a deeply spiritual life in pursuit of the ‘Divine Consciousness’. He did not seek to establish himself as a religious leader and did not put in place any rituals by which to attain ‘Divine Consciousness’. What Sri Aurobindo and, later, the Mother were advocating, in my view, was simply that we need to give up the mindset that caused humans to behave in a selfish and materialistic (read capitalist) fashion and move instead to a mindset which emphasized ‘Human Unity’, the divinity of work and the relations of true brotherhood (read communist). In fact, there is no religion in Auroville (although there are no restrictions on the practice of any religion) as religions do divide the people of the world, whereas Auroville is only interested in unity.

Having thus established that Auroville is essentially communist in its ideology and basic functioning, it is also important to note the following areas where Auroville falls short of the ideals set before it. These will be important ingredients in the later analysis of whether Auroville was ‘worth it’.

· Receiving according to one’s needs: Even though the system of ‘maintenance’ is in place, at present individuals are allowed to set up and run small-scale commercial enterprises. Despite the fact that the enterprises are technically the property of Auroville, the individuals who run them are allowed to appropriate the earnings.

· Increase in levels of productivity: Productivity levels in Auroville are not significantly higher than in the surrounding areas. One possible reason is the lack of a high rate of technological progress due to the lack of emphasis on the sciences in education. This has led to a situation where the total output of Auroville falls short of the sum of its needs.

· Money: The ideal of a moneyless community is yet to be achieved in Auroville. Many services are provided free, but for dealing with the outside world, currency is essential. Even within the community, a level of productivity sufficiently high to allow output to exceed total needs has not been attained, and thus scarcity exists for many commodities, necessitating the use of money and exchange according to the law of value as a rationing device. However, there is a distinct attempt to reduce the use of paper currency as certain goods services can be consumed only after an account has been opened and the currency equivalent of the goods or services consumed is debited from the account by the shopkeeper. An experiment is also underway using a new medium of exchange called the Aurose, with one Aurose in value being equal to one Rupee.

· Perfect information: Even though its relatively small size makes the sharing of information easier, perfect knowledge as to who is producing what in the community is still lacking in Aurovile. As a result, there is a perennial shortage of food due to too few people wanting to take up farming as a career. This shortage must be ‘imported’, as it were, from the surrounding areas. There is also an excess of people wishing to devote their lives to the arts.

· Not self-sustaining: Any self-sustaining community must have the characteristic that the revenue generated by it should be approximately equal to its expenditures. If revenues are less than expenditure, the gap cannot be too large as the gap must usually be filled by borrowing, which would mean an increase in the debt burden. In the case of Auroville, the revenues generated are adequate to finance only about a quarter of the expenditure. The shortfall is made up partly by Government of India grants, but mainly by donations from rich Aurovillians, Aurovile centres in India and abroad, NGOs and private individuals. In addition, workers are hired from the surrounding villages for certain work such as construction. Essentially, Auroville is living off other people’s money.

· Organization: As we have seen, there is still need for coordinating and decision making bodies in Auroville.

Aurovillians acknowledge the aforementioned shortcomings. They argue that self-sustenance will be achieved when the size of Auroville nears the envisioned 50000. At present there are only about 1800 residents, whose contributions are inadequate due to the existence of fixed costs. They also emphasize that Auroville is actively trying to do away with the shortcomings, and with time the attainment of the ‘Divine Consciousness’ would greatly aid in the elimination of money and establishment of a ‘Divine Anarchy’ through elimination of the present vestiges of a government. Further, once scientific advancements allow the increase of productivity to sufficiently high levels and the ‘Divine Consciousness’ leads to the control of wants, then the true ideal of working according to one’s capacity and taking according to one’s need will be realized.

Auroville: Net Gain or Net Loss

The question must be asked as to whether the experiment of Auroville thus far has been a success or not. There are three perspectives from which to look at this question – that of the Aurovillians themselves, the surroundings including the local populace and the Government of India and the world as a whole.

For Aurovillians, the broad consensus is that the experience has been worth it. As we have seen, the majority of the expenditure of Auroville is funded by donations and grants. This means that for Aurovillians, the amount of work they would need to do in order to gain a given standard of living has been drastically reduced. Even though work is supposed to be divine in Auroville, empirical evidence tells us that the amount of work performed by an individual drastically falls after coming to Auroville. Maybe work gives positive utility in itself up to a point, after which it gives negative utility. Outside Auroville these people would work more than they do in Auroville as outside the benefits from work include both its own utility as well as the utility from monetary rewards, whereas inside, the benefit from work is restricted only to its own utility. In addition, there is the benefit from leading a spiritual life free of worries and anxiety which reflects positively on utility.

For the surroundings, the answer is not as straightforward. There have been many benefits but there have also been some losses.

Let us look at the benefits first.

· Environmental regeneration: When Aurovile acquired its present land, it was a barren stretch of unfertile red soil. The area had once been a forest, but the forest had been cleared and the lumber used to build new cities like Pondicherry. The area has now been transformed back into a green belt thanks to Auroville’s extensive Afforestation Campaign. Auroville’s Forest Group and Greenworkers have also introduced new techniques like ‘bunding’ to arrest soil erosion and augment the water table. The good work has attracted grants from the Environmental Department of the Government of India to carry out further afforestation and scientific monitoring to arrive at a model which can be replicated across parts of India with similar geographical conditions. Lately, experts from Auroville have started travelling outside Auroville to help initiate and sustain afforestation schemes in Karnataka and Tamil Nadu.

· Employment generation, job security and a higher level of income: Auroville employs around 5000 people from the surrounding villages. Due to the availability of jobs, the population of the surroundings has increased from around 25000 at the time of Auroville’s inception to about 40000 presently. Job security has also increased as the workers are not usually employed in an ad-hoc fashion. Also, due to Auroville’s policy of ‘dignified salaries’, the average salary paid to a worker for performing a task in Auroville is higher that what he would get outside Auroville.

· Improved living conditions: As a result of Auroville’s presence, not only have the income levels of the surrounding villages gone up, but they have also benefited from the new technologies introduced by Auroville. For instance, the construction materials frequently used in the villages today are far more durable (reinforced cement/concrete, ferrocement channels, tiles, etc) than the traditional ones. Style and design often reflect the models of housing found in Auroville.

· Education and vocational training: Many educational programmes have been implemented in the area, either through formal education or through programmes of adult education in areas such as social awareness, health, agriculture, recovery of traditional medicines, local infrastructural development, savings opportunities and reforestation. Literacy levels have improved as a result and many local people can now compete in the qualified labour market within or outside Auroville, or become managers of their own enterprise, providing the local population with yet more opportunities for employment.

· Women’s clubs: Assisted by Aurovile, women in the surrounding villages are increasingly becoming part of a savings scheme. Women are encouraged to pool in their savings to form a fund from which loans may be given in times of need. At present, some of these clubs own up to Rs. 4 lakh. This has reduced the dependence on local moneylenders and has raised the self esteem and social standing of women in the area.

· Research: Auroville has been an active centre for research and has developed and pursued technologies in the fields of organic foods, renewable energy, natural dyeing and high class appropriate building technologies. To take examples, production of a non-polluting solar bike has started and buildings are constructed from indigenously made non-polluting Compressed Earth Blocks instead of the usual bricks whose manufacturing process pollutes the environment.

Let us now look to the negative impact of Aurovile.

· Opportunity cost of grants and donations: A part of Auroville’s finances comes from grants and donations originating from Indian soil. Part of the government grants are project specific. One has to ask the question as to whether the remaining funds are used in such a way that benefits the surroundings of Auroville and India as a whole. As we have seen, part of these remaining funds are spent in generating employment, conducting research, environmental regeneration and the like, but there is definitely a part that finances the consumption requirements of Aurovillians. This portion could be better utilized for the development of the local economy. However, there is a question mark on whether these donations would be forthcoming at all in the absence of Auroville. Thus, the magnitude of negative impact due to this factor must be reduced to take this uncertainty into account.

· Social problems in villages: Two issues need to be highlighted. Firstly, the increased incomes of the local populace have resulted in an increasing consumption of alcohol among adult and young males. Secondly, the trend increasingly is towards young boys not contributing towards the family income to their utmost capacity and threatening to run away to Auroville if pressurized to contribute more.

In comparing the costs and benefits, the element of subjectivity will always arise in selecting the criteria according to which performance is to be evaluated. Therefore, I can only give my subjective opinion in this regard. In my view, from the point of view of India as a whole, Aurovile has led to many positive effects, and since these effects are the results of activities financed largely by foreign donations and grants, India has essentially gained a lot without spending too much. The negative impact of a portion of the funds originating in India being used to finance the consumption wants of Aurovillians instead of developmental activities is more than offset by the positive impact of developmental expenditure incurred out of funds not originating in India. The issues of alcoholism and other social problems are, however, a cause for concern and corrective measures such as spreading proper values through education as well as a system of economic disincentives must be worked out. On the whole, however, I believe that Auroville has benefited India.

Coming to the impact of Auroville on the world as a whole, the analysis may proceed as follows. Let us take the pool of funds from which Auroville finances its expenditure. This pool may be divided into three broad categories based on source of origin – funds originating as a result of the work of the people of Auroville, project specific grants and general grants and donations. Note we do not distinguish between Indian and foreign grants and donations as the unit of analysis is the world as a whole. This pool may be used to finance consumption and developmental expenditure. Funds originating as a result of the work of the people of Auroville are not sufficient to finance even consumption. Therefore, all the developmental expenditure and a sizeable part of consumption must be financed by grants and donations. Project specific grants, by nature can only finance developmental expenditure, and so the additional consumption expenditure must be met out of general grants and donations. The argument is that this part of general grants could, in the absence of Auroville, be mobilized to finance developmental expenditure instead of consumption, as in the absence of Auroville the people who would otherwise be its residents would work harder due to the monetary rewards attached to work and would finance all their consumption themselves without relying on aid from others. Thus, it appears that there is a net loss. However, how forthcoming these fund would be in the absence of Auroville and how easily they could be mobilized if they are forthcoming is a matter open to question, and therefore, at best, one must consider the net effect ambiguous.

One may also note that the criteria used above to judge performance is, again, subjective. On reflection, it appears I have adopted an essentially capitalist way of looking at the matter and still not been able to conclusively prove that this experiment at communism has had a net negative effect on society. And the apparent reason is the developmental work carried out by Auroville due to its communist-like pursuit of Human Unity and the ‘Divine Consciousness’. But for this, the analysis would most certainly have turned up a negative result. One could also argue from a communist perspective and say that it has made people aware of a new kind of social formation and therefore helped the advance towards the ideal that all should look to achieve. However, there are elements of subjectivity in this analysis itself, and in my view the earlier analysis is completely objective, though the selection of the analytical procedure is certainly subjective.

The future of Auroville in particular and communism in general

The basic problem faced by Auroville and any other attempts at setting up a communist society has been that three of the essential features of communism have not been achieved. Firstly, there has not been a change in the superstructure to the extent that work is looked upon as an end in itself rather than a means to an end. Work has not come to be associated with positive utility by itself in any of these societies by the populace at large. This has led to a reduction in the number of man-hours supplied voluntarily. In addition, needs are still viewed as being unlimited as the concept of satiation is not widely accepted. Secondly, even a reduced number of man-hours could be compensated for had productivity risen to such an extent that the output could exceed the sum of the society’s needs. However, this is dependent largely upon technology, and technology has not progressed to such an extent for productivity to rise to the required levels. Lastly, though information has become more freely available in the recent past, the freedom of information is still not adequate to enable a person to know how to allocate his labour to prevent shortages and surpluses in the economy.

Thus, any attempt at realizing communism in the present context will be characterized by the following conditions: not enough work will be put in; the output of the society will be less than the sum of its needs; and there will be shortages in some goods and excesses in others. Auroville is able to circumnavigate these problems due to the availability of grants and donations. These allow it to hire extra labour to make up the shortfall in man-hours supplied, purchase goods to fill the gap between output and needs, and compensate for internal shortages by ‘importing’ the shortfall. The future existence of Auroville, thus, depends on the continuation of grants and donations. In short, as long as people around the world believe in the cause and concept of Auroville, it will continue to survive in a form which can only be regarded as very close to the communist ideal.

For communism in general, such grants and donations are not available. This has led, in many past attempts at communism, to the state assuming power to solve the aforementioned problems. To combat against the tendencies of a reduction in work effort and a shortfall of output with respect to the sum of the society’s needs, the state sets targets for both man-hours and output. To combat against shortfalls in some commodities and surpluses in others, the state also decides the composition of output. Thus, attempts at establishing communism have ended up being socialist in their functioning rather than communist.

So what is the way to achieve the ultimate ideal of communism? In my view, the only way is the long term elimination of these problems. The superstructure must be allowed to change through the natural process of logic. Attempts may be made to make the populace understand the concept of communism rather than to enforce it upon them. Technological advance must be relied upon to increase productivity levels to a sufficiently high level. Once this is achieved, people will move naturally towards supplying fewer man-hours. As the number of man-hours supplied reduces, the level of disutility caused due to work will also reduce, and work as a concept will come to be associated with less displeasure, and, possibly even greater pleasure. As regards a system of perfect knowledge, this will again depend on technology.

As is evident, a lot depends on the pace of technological progress, and there is no real way of circumnavigating the path of technological progress. It will take its own time, and until at least the second and third problems are not eliminated, any attempt at communism will not succeed in entirety on a large scale. The superstructure may change once the system is in place, in keeping with Historical Materialism. One could argue that the third problem of shortages and surpluses in different goods could be solved through trade – the surpluses could be exported and the shortages imported. However, the ultimate ideal is the establishment of communism all over the world, and in the hypothetical scenario of an entirely communist world without perfect knowledge, there would be no safeguards against shortages and surpluses at the world level.

If any attempts at communism are made before these problems are solved, the resultant structure would be essentially socialist. I differ with Historical Materialism in that I believe that socialism is not an improvement over capitalism. Socialism, in my view, is merely an attempt at achieving communism, which is an improvement over capitalism, without the necessary means to do so. Socialism can only lead back to capitalism, and the reason for this is that individual freedom is compromised under socialism. The lure of capitalism, and the reason why capitalism is an improvement over feudalism, is that it gives freedom to all individuals. This freedom to choose the level of one’s work and one’s occupation is engrained in the superstructure of capitalism. Socialism takes away this freedom, and this evokes displeasure from the masses. This displeasure grows until the time that public outcry and inefficiency makes the switch back to capitalism necessary. Evidence of this can be seen in the erstwhile USSR and China.

One must not lose sight of the fact that change is a natural process, and a slow one at that. The transition from feudalism to communism took two centuries, and as such expecting to establish communism in a few years is nothing short of foolhardy. My belief is that one should work towards assisting the natural transition of the capitalist economic base into a communist one, not completely dismantle the capitalist base and replace it with a communist one. The guiding force should be that changes in economic relations should lead to a change in laws, not the other way around. In short, the way to communism is through capitalism, not around it.

Conclusion

During the course of this project, I tried to establish the basic characteristics of communism as elimination of economic classes, collective ownership of assets, work according to capacity, receipt according to one’s needs, a high level of education, a high level of productivity, perfect knowledge, elimination of money and elimination of the state. I observed that Auroville fits largely into the communist model, though some deviations are evident. I tried to argue that from the point of view of Aurovillians and India as a whole, the experiment has lead to a net gain. However, for the world as a whole, the effect is ambiguous. I then postulated that the future of Aurovill depended on the continuation of grants and aid in order to facilitate circumnavigation of certain inherent problems of establishing a society based on communism in the present context. With regard to the future of communism in general, I proposed that there definitely is a future, but that future must not be imposed and definitely not through socialism. The way forward is through natural, and not forced, tendencies to change.

References

This project is an original piece of work. I have used Marx’s theory of Historical Materialism and its analysis of the evolution of social formations, but I have not referred to any text while doing so. All the information about Auroville is based on a personal visit and the Auroville website, www.auroville.org.

Just a bit of me

2006-09-05T11:16:00.000+01:00

Dhe-te-Dha-a-n-Dha-a-n-Dha. Ab aaye sam par.

Hi. I'm saattvic. That's my name. My complete name. No surname. But more on that later. Maybe in another post. As of now, let me tell you a little about 'Dhe-te-Dha-a-n-Dha-a-n-Dha'.

They're tabla bols. I play the tabla. Have been doing so for 11 years. I love it. Some others love it too, but that's ok. Dhe-te-Dha-a-n-Dha-a-n-Dha is a piece we use to arive at the 'sam' (pronounced sum). Is this confusing you? ok. There are three types of people. Those who know indian classical music. Those who don't care. And those who do care but don't know. Hope you're the third type. Let me start over.

Hindustani classical music (there is another indian classical form - carnatic. but if i say indian classical, take it to mean hindustani classical) is primarily for soloists. Sometimes you get duets. But usually just one artist. Most times this artist is either a vocalist or an instrumentalist (sometimes he is a percussionist, ie he plays the tabla or the pakhawaj or some other percussion instrument, but more on that later). A tabla player always accompanies vocalists and instrumentalists. His basic function is to keep the beat. Most times a tanpura plays in the background to provide the base note. Vocalists are also accompanied by a harmonium or sarangi for support.

A vocalist or instrumentalist plays with notes. These notes are represented by symbols. Westerners will be familiar with 'do, re, me, fa, so, la, ti'. Indians have this as 'sa, re, ga, ma, pa, dha, ni'. They're the same notes, they just have different symbols. 'do' and 'sa' are the same note. so are 'me' and 'ga'. Funnily enough, the second note is 're' in both styles of notation.

It follows that most of what a vocalist or instrumentalist plays can be captured on paper as a string of notes. The idea of the musician coming up with something first and then it being captured on paper is the exact opposite of the western tradition. There a composer composes everything and an orchestra plays it. Here, most music is based on improvisation.

The musician comes up with the piece based usually on a raag and within the raag, a bandish. A raag is a collection of notes. Raag Bhopali is 'sa-re-ga-pa-dha-sa, sa-dha-pa-ga-re-sa'. The ascent is called the aaroh and the descent is called the avaroh. A bandish is a composition within the raag, usually lasting one or two beat cycles (more on beat cycles later). This bandish then forms the base for all the improvisations. Well, I'll go into the details of a classical music performance in some other post.

The accompanying percussion instrument in hindustani classical is usually the tabla or pakhawaj, depending on the style of the main musician. His job is to maintain the beat cycle and improvise in tandem with the main artist within that beat cycle. A beat cycle is of utmost importance to hindustani music. All bandishes are set to a cycle of beats. The most common is a cycle of 16 beats called teentaal. This cycle repeats itself, and so all work in that piece has to adhere to the 16 beat cycle. The first beat in a cycle is called the sam. Most bandishes have a distinct point of emphasis and a definite sense of marking a partition between cycles at the sam. Most improvisations finish at the sam, or lead into the bandish, which provides emphasis at the sam.

Now, just like the doings of vocalists and instrumentalists can be captured in writing through various combinations of sa, re, ga, etc., percussion can, too, be caught on paper. What we do is, verbally imitate the each sound produced be the percussion instrument (as there is no scope for notes) and use that verbal imitation as the symbok for that sound. For example, if I stroke the outer rim of the tabla with my index finger, keeping the tip of the ring finger on the tabla for support while keeping all other fingers off, the resultant sound sounds like 'ta'. If at the same time, I stroke the baiyaa (the tabla is composed of two drums - one called the tabla and the other the baiyaa. the baiyaa basically provides the bass while most of the work is done on the tabla), the resultant sound sounds like 'dha'. So, most of what a tabla player does can be recorded on paper too.

Now back to Dhe-te-Dha-a-n-Dha-a-n-Dha. Now, this is a string of sounds produced by the tabla. This particular string is a small piece used at the end of a beat cycle to arrive at the sam.

So, that was one bit of me - my tabla. Expect some musically inclined posts in the future. But that's not all to me. I'm actually quite a lunatic. There's lots of sides to me. So many that to the untrained eye, I might even qualify as a sphere!! (Ok. Bad joke. I know)