Today we are Free

Free. free of the ideals with which our nation was borne. Free of fraternity, of justice. So free in fact, that we are free to subjugate our people in order to bring them development. When I hear the voices speaking about how the dissolution of the J&K state, internment of it's leaders and a completely clampdown on civil liberties is the only way to bring development, peace and stability to the region, I can hear echoes of Kipling exhorting his leaders to take on White Man's Burden, When Amit Shah claimed in Parliament, "Article 370 didn't allow democracy in Jammu and Kashmir. Corruption and poverty increased in the state. The entire country is developing, but when we look at Kashmir, we get tears in our eyes that even after 70 years (of independence), they are still living in poverty.", it sounded a lot like Kipling.

"Take up the White Man's burden —
The savage wars of peace —
Fill full the mouth of Famine
And bid the sickness cease;"

And again, when he thundered that "Article 370 was the root of terror in Jammu and Kashmir. It is time for it to go... if it doesn't go today, we can't remove terrorism from Jammu and Kashmir.", the Ghost of Kipling looked on with pride.

"Take up the White Man's burden —
In patience to abide,
To veil the threat of terror
And check the show of pride;"

So I guess, today we are free to turn captor. We are free to forget the lessons that our freedom fighters learnt under the yoke of colonialism, the dreams they had of freedom, justice and equality. A nation borne from dissent, struggle and the defiant demand for freedom of its people, has decided that the best way to move forward is to quash dissent and meet defiance with violence that would do General Dyer proud. We are free to be the monster in the closet. The merciless engine of progress needs to be guarded from the chaotic elements of society who would derail it in the name of property rights, environment, equality, freedom or any such pesky demands.

Our freedom does not end here though. No sir! We are free now to express our hate, our bigotry and our disdain for anyone who does not conform to the idea of New India. We are free to lynch the undesirables, to issue death threats and rape threats to the non-conformists, to fan the flames of hatred in the name of religion. We are free to become the very thing we accuse the terrorists and extremists of. To take by force or fraud that which we believe is ours, and to treat all grievances that this causes as collateral damage. 

We are so free. And yet, this freedom hangs heavy about me. It seems a burden, not a joy. Why do I feel such sorrow when contemplating my freedom? Why does it fill me with dread and foreboding? Is this what the freedom fighters and the constituent assembly envisaged at the birth of our nation? That we would use our hard fought freedom to trample over the rights of our fellow citizens? That we would treat dissent with contempt? That the ends justify the means? What separates a policeman firing on protestors in new India from a General Dyer firing on a gathering in Jallianwala Bagh? What makes one action just and the other cruel? All I can say for this freedom is...

"Bhes badal gaye, poshaak badal gayi. Rang badal gaya, par rukh abhi bhi wahi hai."

Which perhaps is the story of India for over 2000 years now. Jai Hind.

An Apology Note to the victims of our nationalism

Dear Assamese, Kashmiris and other victims of our strident nationalism

I am truly sorry for your loss and your pain. You have put up with us and our failed experiments and for this, I owe you a debt that can never be repaid. As a citizen of India, and therefore represented by the various Governments that have failed you, I feel responsible for your hardship. I am deeply sorry. I may not have voted for these regimes, but they govern in my name, and so I must apologise for the evil acts that they perpetrate in my name as well.

There can be no redemption for us. We sit comfortably ensconced in our ivory towers, convinced that we know what's best for you. We, who have never shivered through a cold night in a refugee tent, not tasted fear as bullets whizz past us, not run from mobs baying for our blood, nor sat restlessly anticipating that knock on the door demanding we prove our nationality and our identity. We who have never lost a moment's happiness, nor had the fate of our children impacted by the thin sliver of hope that this nation has held out to you, now sit in judgement on what should be the fate of you and your children. We cannot be redeemed.

There can be no penance for us, for we are unrepentant. Time and again we pretend we know what we are doing, and wreak unspeakable havoc in your lives as easily as we crack nuts or screw open wine bottles. But people are not walnut shells. Or wine bottle corks. They bleed. They break. They burn. In our thirst for vengeance and our greed for power, we forget our humanity. Your humanity we have already forgotten, buried under mounds of paper. Until there is only dust. We hope to rewrite the past in order to build our future, but on a crooked pedestal shall be wrought all these great works we hope to accomplish, and I fear that in the end we too will be dust.

Your voice reached my ears. And in my self pity and fear and insecurity, I shut it out. I am sorry. I am afraid of losing what I have. Of going through the Hell  we have made your life. Of standing up to the injustice of the state. Of catching the eye of the state machinery. I am afraid of becoming the dust and the mounds of paper I have made you. For my fear, for the failings of my character and my courage. I am sorry. 

Yes, perhaps this is not an apology, but an admission of guilt. In my silence, in my fear, in the prison of my weak spirit, I am just as much your culprit as those I would claim to denounce. I am truly, deeply sorry for what I have become.

Build your ark

Retreat from the madness of the world                      
find refuge in your soul                      
take shelter from the storm that rages                      
As mankind pays for the sins of all ages

Is this the flood cometh again?
then build that ark with your deeds                      
Heed not the naysayers,
those grim reapers who dance in the streets                      

Centre your mind, rest your soul
don't let the anger devour you whole
to give in to anger, is to give in to the dark
build, build, build that ark

Have a thoughtful beginning of the year, and an actionable 2017

Spare a thought

Spare a thought this new year
... for your Country

Has democracy taken root?
When the mantle of leadership is passed
from parent to son or daughter
With little thought to qualification
or selection criteria,
When the government runs by ordinance
because your elected representatives are busy
shouting slogans, raising voices,
disrupting business, because they have no idea
how to debate and discuss
They got where they got,
by wielding sticks and pelting stones,
Words aren't their stock in trade,
pens are for the weak, How dare
you portray their Gods with pens and not swords in their Hands?

Spare a thought this new year
...for the Constitution
When journalists can be imprisoned with impunity
For the courage to stand up against the state
When the state can kill, maim and threaten citizens
then subvert and subdue the process of law
When standing up for the national anthem is more important
than standing up for your rights,
When those who most flagrantly break the laws
can makes the laws anew to cover their tracks
When the legislature abdicates its responsibility
in its thirst for power gives up its legitimacy
When every decision needs to be made by the judiciary
Is the day far when a judge will decide the team for every cricket game?
Or what should be your beloved child's name?

Spare a thought this new year
... for Nature

Mother nature we call it,
for it mothers and nurtures our growth
Yet use and abuse is all we know
We take its many gifts with merry abandon
then abandon it when it needs our support
Choking up the rivers with our filth
we choke on the air so precious, so unique
Far and wide have we travelled, roved and voyaged
Watched planets circling stars now dim to our sight
Never once found air so pure that we once had before
that gave us life, made our electrochemical synapses glow
Everywhere we go that essential life force - H2O
is scarce or toxic, or buried miles below
Yet we who have it treat it with utter disregard
pump into it our waste, our dead, whatever we discard
Yet from time to time we remember our roots
Our ancestors who celebrated it, gave it its due
We utter the prayers, take the holy dip
open a mineral water bottle for a sip
Then throw the bottle when we are done
Into the soil from where we get our "Ann"
Annapoorna, we have a name for her
the nourisher, the giver, she banishes hunger
Yet we poison her gifts with chemicals so vile
The land where we sow, we rape and defile
When we reap that harvest, it will be ripe with sorrow
For the land we do not love or cherish
We will miss dearly when we perish
When the rice turns to dust, and the grains to ash
there is no more forest left to burn and slash
Spare a thought now, or it will be lost forever
do you pin your hopes on the SpaceX endeavour?

Spare a thought this new year
.... for yourself

For who you want to be
What is your identity
Do others dictate the words
that come out as sounds from your mouth?
Are your opinions your own?
Unfettered by blind allegiance,
Wide and accepting of the delightful diversity of this world
Do your actions reflect the yearning of that dead poet
Who dreamed of a world free
where people could live with respect and dignity
Where scholar and reason
are not considered traitor and treason
Where we build bridges of hope not walls of fear
Walls that narrow your view, imprison your mind
Shackle your soul, until you can no longer find
your voice, your identity
you will have lost your dignity
Is that who you want to be?

All animals are equal, but political animals are more equal than others

So both Congress and BJP can arrive at a consensus and amend the FCRA to cover their violations, but can use the same violations as a stick to beat up NGOs and get them to fall in line? (http://barandbench.com/debriefed-bjp-congress-withdrew-slp…/). Perhaps it is time to let our elected representatives know that they are not above the law. If we cannot bring our representatives to book for making a mockery of the laws to suit their purposes, then we should consider that as a dereliction of our duties under the constitution, and anti-national. Flag waving/anthem singing/jawan saluting notwithstanding.

I request all Indians to stand with me in the true fight against black money and pledge the following:

I urge my area representatives to disclose their party funding

Write an open letter to your area MP and MLA requesting them to disclose ALL sources of funding to their political parties. Tell them that if you as a business or an individual are required to disclose ALL sources of income, so are they. They are not above the law. Don't sign some online petition please. Write the letter, send a registered copy to them and to your favourite newspaper.

I do not buy or sell goods without a bill

Do not buy or sell anything without a receipt. Insist that you would like to pay the tax and you want a bill. Pay the taxes and duties that go towards bulletproof vests and bullets for your soldiers. Not doing so is beneath your dignity.

I will not ask for or pay a cash component for property transactions

Do not underreport the sale proceedings when you buy/sell property. Pay the charges that are meant for improving the infrastructure in your state. Not doing so removes any expectations you have from the state for law and order, roads, power, sanitation, public transport and a myriad other services which our states are severely deficient on, and you appreciate when you travel abroad. You have a right to demand these services from your elected representatives, but before you exercise that right, please perform your duties as well.

I'll finish by repeating something I heard on the radio today: 

मेरा भारत महान

... बनाना पड़ेगा |

जय हिंद

A brush with the iron hand

To all my smart, intelligent, analytical friends who have left no stone unturned to prove just how pointless the demonetization step is in the war against black money. Thanks. I now understand that black money will not end, there might be a brief pause and then it will continue because India is a cash economy. I also get the hardship this will cause millions of people with small savings who don't trust the banking system, who are illiterate, marginalized, saving money from rapacious family members and so on and so forth. I sympathize with the travellers who are stuck with large currency notes that they cannot use, or not enough money on the road to small towns in India where you can't use cards. It could just as easily have been me in your situation. But the reason why middle class, salaried, play-by-rules people like me are enjoying this is so basic, so irrational, and yet so deeply ingrained in human psyche, that no amount of logic is going to help. It's the feeling of the underdog winning something for once. 

Let me try and explain this with an allegory. Amit is a Gurgaon resident who drives his CNG Suzuki Swift to work everyday. He gets a pollution check done every 6 months, regularly maintains his car, does not drive on high beam, and sticks to his lane - real or imaginary. All around him is the madness of Gurgaon traffic. Honking, overspeeding, rash driving. When he stops at a deserted red light he divides his attention between the traffic light and the rear view mirror, keenly aware of the fact that he can be rear ended by a Gurgaonwasi who just can't imagine someone stopped at a red light for no reason. Most drivers zip past him without a care., some slow down to check if there is a policeman watching, since that is the only conceivable reason in their minds to stop at the light.

One day, after being cut off and honked by two impatient drivers who were stuck behind him at a red light - one even on a cellphone, Amit feels he has reached his limit. His frustration is boiling over. He wants to catch up to one of these guys - lets call him Skippy - and give them a piece of his mind. Just at that moment - he sees both of them jump a red light and get caught by a traffic policeman - an honest one. He sees them fined for jumping the light and cellphone driving. As he drives past them, his frustration melts away, and he feels a mixture of vindication and vindictiveness. It takes the rage out of his system, and he is back to his conscientious self. 

It's one of those days - when the system instead of beating down on us play-by-rules types, is actually giving Skippy a hard time. I'm rubbing my hands with glee and cackling with spiteful laughter. I'm enjoying watching these people roast. I'm loving accounts of people losing sleep over cash property deals, over sales done without bill, over consulting fees taken in cash and sitting in bank lockers. It would be really good for the economy if this is followed up with steps that discourage black money like tax reform, financial inclusion and wider acceptance of plastic. But for now, I'm in the grip of a visceral desire to gloat, and that's not going away anytime soon.

The Ladakh Experience

(note: I started writing this in June 2011 when I came back from Ladakh and had time to absorb the experience. However, I still wasn't able to post it back then.Finally managed to post it a year or so later :))

Only something as surreal, as compelling as the Ladakh experience could have moved me out of my writer's block and back to the blog. When I see that my last post was in Oct 2009, I just wonder where the time went. We'll leave the recriminations and reflections on the hiatus out for today, focusing instead on what drove me back to this sparsely decorated blog.

Ladakh. One word, but not one world. Ladakh of the bizarre, surreal landscape. Ladakh of the extreme, harsh weather conditions. Ladakh of the spirituality and deep religiosity that permeates life and supplements the sparse oxygen afforded by the thin air. Ladakh of the heroes, the fallen and those that brave the harsh conditions and the enemy to keep our borders secure. Is it possible to experience all of these worlds in just a week? Maybe, maybe not. Maybe enough to stir your soul and force you to accept that what you've walked away with in that week is but a small sample of everything that goes on in this frozen desert, in a land that is virtually cut off from the rest of civilization for most months of the year.

Perhaps it is thin air that makes you light headed and that adds to the mystique. From the moment I stepped off the plane, to our arrival back in Delhi a week later, I felt I was in a swirling mist. I'll recount some of the experiences that stood out.

A Plane with a View

While folks swear by the drive through the mountains and passes, the flight into Leh took my breath away. What a view! you could see the majestic Himalayas stretching away for endless miles in every direction. Many a brave adventurer has set out to conquer these lofty heights, dreaming of glory and immortality, for most this has been their final destination. 

As we flew above, and then through these snow capped peaks, all sense of space and time left me. A ridge that looked tiny in this range was probably large enough to hold a 100 people. How much had these mountains changed in a 100 years? in a millenium? Their timeless, ageless nature and the sheer scale on which they existed made a human lifetime pale in comparison.

A Walk in Leh

What's a blog post without a photo of food :). The walk in Leh was not about food. It was a walk in a different environment - how it looked, how the air felt, how the rays of the sun beat down on to my face through the rarefied atmosphere. It was as if we were walking in a giant bowl of dirt - brown hills all around us, but even a stroll was more work than running full tilt back home. When we reached this little dhaba, breathless and hungry, the simple subzi and poori breakfast accompanied by lots and lots of tea tasted heavenly.

A Lake in the Mountains

Pangong Tso. Wikipedia tells me that this is a long, narrow enchanted lake. Wikipedia also tells me a lot of trivia. But Wikipedia - or any source for that matter - cannot describe the rich blue color of the water. It cannot describe how after a bone jarring, back breaking 5 hour ride from Leh, when you get out, all weariness lifts from your body as you wonder at the beauty and inexplicable presence of the lake. How all around you the mountains change color from sandy brown, to chocolate to white in the distance. How in the middle of all the dust and pebble, the waters seem extra blue. And how a lake that is 5 km wide and over a 100 kms long, still seems small in the presence of the majestic mountains.

A Reflection in the Sky

We ambled through the Diskit Gompa on our way to the Nubra dunes, and when we reached the top, I forgot about my camera, my gps, Facebook and Foursquare. We walked slowly through the temples, but then we sat down at the top of the monastery with some very friendly monks, and took in the view, the solitude and the peace it offered. We sat on a ledge outside the temple, but it seemed as if we were sitting in the sky. Some force compelled me to sit there and meditate, to contemplate and reflect upon life and the meaning of living. The word "peace" took on a whole new dimension. 

[As an aside, this was the second time I was caught in the grip of such an intense introspective and spiritual moment. The first time was my first visit to the Harmandir Sahib, maybe I'll write about that someday.] 

A High on a high

There are many, many things we crammed into the one week. I do need to write about the visit to the war memorial and museum, the Gurudwara, the prayer flags, the dunes of Nubra and our night time jaunt there, ice-craft at Siachen - and many more. I'll end this blog post though with a study in contrasts :). It wasn't enough that we were light headed because of the thin air, we couldn't resist cold beer at the highest motorable pass - Khardung-La. I'd send this photo to Mr Mallya, but I don't think it will cheer his spirits as much as the cold beer cheered ours in Ladakh.

While riding up and down the roads to get through the pass was quite an experience, this is where I wish I was in the driver seat. Some of us have agreed to revisit on hogs someday - when we are all dealing with our mid-life crises. We'll see if that happens.

The Ladakh Experience

I call it the Ladakh experience - not trip, for it really was an experience. If Kerala is God's own country, Ladakh is God's Playground, where he experimented (still does?) with Nature - moulding and shaping it until satisfied with the result - made it a part of the landscape elsewhere. How else do you explain barren mountains and fertile valleys, hot springs and saline lakes that freeze over, snow capped mountains and sand dunes, plateaus and glaciers all in one place? it's been over a year since I visited, and I can still recall the emotions and thoughts that went through my head in that one week. I do hope I'll go back someday - but at a much slower pace. Juleh Ladakh!