Impromptu...

Once upon a time, in the streets of erstwhile Purulia, now an epitome of barbaric mayhem, a poor little kid found a pencil left astray. Elated at finding something he could, finally, scribble his thoughts, his ideas with, he picked it up and without losing a moment, started writing. Since the activity brought happiness and relief to his otherwise disturbed mutated soul (remember the mayhem!), he remained indulgent in writing for hours together everyday. No sooner he realized the lead of the pencil was getting exhausted with every passing day than he started writing as quickly as he possibly could for he deemed it criminal not to share the innumerable ideas that struck him on an every-moment basis that, he thought, required to be penned somewhere fearing loss in a maze of ideas that changed configuration every moment. But, the pity was the more he wrote, the more the lead greased against the paper, the faster it exhausted. He was often spotted worried thinking, ideating in a solitary place by the riverside. Finally he started praying to the almighty who, after the regular quota of prayers, duly obliged. The almighty told him, “My dear son, you called me and here I am. Every idea that you wanted humanity to benefit from, son, shall emanate from each person every moment across the perimeter of mother earth meaning someone somewhere shall pen them for you. So, think never [deliberately written in this order] your ideas shall vanish in thin air. No, they shall not. And, while I am busy awakening those lost souls, dormant spirits, you could, perhaps, do well to come up with an idea to find yourself a pencil again."

A Strange Boulevard

A mist so heavy has done me in 
Nothing to hold on to and a cold biting 
Bereft of vision I am 
And robbed of all powers of mind 
I tread a strange boulevard 
Worse than a mountain to climb 
The only way is forward 
There’s no going back 
I tried once only 
To fall on my face, flat 
I can’t see anyone 
To look up to 
Where’re they all gone 
What’s my fate making me do 
I had a hundred dreams 
I had a million plans 
When was the last time 
I had a lovely dance 
I can’t recall anything 
What’s wrong with me 
Sans all things human 
Am I set free 
Oh no! my lord 
Here begs your son 
Give me my life back 
Give me my splendid sun 
I swear to you 
Shall not let you down 
Shall do my duties as a human  
This time around 
How the cosmos conspired 
And built a deadly fence 
I can see it all now 
In the divine transparence 
There were those forces 
That demonized me 
The insidious intentions 
I couldn’t see 
The life so precious 
I wasted how 
Only if I could show 
How regretful I’m now 
Oh! The strange boulevard 
You showed me the path 
I’ll make it count this time 
Today I avow


R.S. 29 November 2010

...yours Kokin

The rising sun is here to wake,
a breeze so gentle bathes my face.
A random run around the house,
a glance there, a jump off the couch.
My eyes wander, they look for you,
the slight embrace, the kiss is due.
I don't know what to do all day,
I barked so hard I had a fray.
When all the people get me wrong,
your memories run with me along.
I promise I'll be good with all,
I'll never bite the baby doll.
I got so scared the other night,
I wished at once to hold you tight.
I missed the warmth I always had,
except the time I wanted it bad.
No run no play no appetite,
can do it all, can't do it right.
I'm sorry for I made you sad,
here's your photograph up for grab.
I'll wait for you seconds and days,
until you return to end the haze.
Come back soon, caress my skin,
With a lot of love, yours Kokin.

R.S. 16 October 2010

I Hope...

One short forehand jab and that was it. The entire arena got inked with a single script that read: Minnows no more! Yes, Somdev Devvarman has won the Commonwealth Games (CWG, henceforth) Lawn Tennis Men's Singles Title in great style outdoing his Australian opponent 6-4, 6-2. Yesterday was a splendid day for India in the Commonwealth Games. BUT, this write-up is not to reflect on the NEWS.

I intend to dissertate on the CWG itself. Until recently, India's inexplicable romance with the business world,politics and cricket provided the masses with, generically, the only three potent avenues of altercations, in most cases, and discussions, in not so great numbers,over coffee tables, corporate lunches, family dinners, etc. at large. The much brouhaha surrounding the CWG Managing Committee and the games itself was, I thought, dissuasive enough to pull the masses away from the stadia but to my bewilderment and ecstasy, it was not to be. And I wish to adduce the humongous attendance at various arenas, stadia to accentuate the popularity of the games, in general and their flag-bearers (the players!), in particular. I see the CWG in the light of resurgence of games like Hockey, Wrestling, Boxing and the inception of public interest in games like Gymnastics. BUT, there are a large number of questions glooming around us yet to be answered.

Why is it that we follow and talk about certain games only "partially" (I am an optimist!)while some others rank much above in our priority lists. I don't think anybody who watched yesterday's Hockey match between India and Pakistan found it any less adrenaline pumping than any Indo-Pak cricket encounter( I say this with no disrespect or offence to cricketers or cricket lovers; I too belong to the tribe). The entire stadium was behind India (just for your information, the match was SOLD OUT) and what a match it was! I don't wish to digress from the central issue here.My friend told me about the plight of games like Gymnasium. Now that Ashish Kumar has won a bronze and a silver in Gymnasium, people's attention has been drawn to some extent. The Indian Gymnastics coach was complaining the other day that the Indian team is not being sent only to various international championships across the globe, then, how do we expect them to win? But, the big question is, who expects from them, in the first place. Issues like this ought to be addressed and discussed about, in public.

One thing that's disappointed me has been the absolute absence of film-stars (demigods, rather). Now is the time they should come up and pull the crowd towards the games. Now is the time they should  put their star power to use. Now is the time they should talk in public about the games, in general, participate in discussions, bolster youngsters to tale games other than cricket seriously. Except for Rahul Bose (who I saw appearing for an interview with some news channel on the state of Gymnasium in India, just because he himself has been a Gymnastics enthusiast), I couldn't see anyone else supporting the cause. Marketing can work wonders for anything and everything in this world and where do we need it the most? We need it the most to popularize different games in India where, unfortunately, its power is yet to be harnessed.

In an era of perfect "noise", I hope fellow bloggers discourse formally on this issue, I hope an epiphany of sorts strikes us all so we appreciate the existence and significance of games other than cricket, I hope our demigods come out in open and use their power to support the cause, I hope the euphoria surrounding the games doesn't phase out giving way to an ever-present gloom, I hope the central and the state governments pay heed to games and players, respect them, reward them (on merit) and help them lead a dignified life,
I hope...

Peace

"Hope is a good thing. Infact the best of things, and no good thing ever dies." ['Red' in 'The Shawshank Redemption']

The Spirit of Desperation - II

Hello Everyone!

It's been ages since I scribbled anything here. Actually, I am someone who is entirely driven by 'desperation' and that is why I need to wait for the  'kick'.

I recently finished reading Fooled by Randomness by Nassim Nicholas Taleb and loved it. The book talks of the existence (rather, predominance) and significance of 'unpredictability' and 'randomness' in the vacuum surrounding us. We, generically, have a propensity towards sketching a pattern around occurrence of certain events, more so if we find repetitiveness of some order. For instance, an Option Trader may have taken a certain position out of sheer desperation (fearing a "blow-up") which might have yielded a grand Return and there it is... he tries to establish some sort of probabilistic pattern around the event thanks to, unfortunately, the Math lessons he attended at an elite B-School and secondly owing to his being human. This is a trap that we ,almost all the time, fail to gauge and fall prey to.

Last evening, we all witnessed the grandest spectacle in India's sports history- the opening ceremony of the XIX Commonwealth Games (CWG). I couldn't ignore the innumerable tweets praising the Indian Army on  'successful' (it has become a 'subjective' term now, hope Mr. Kalmadi is listening)completion of the building of 'the' foot-over bridge in flat 5(or 4?) days. And, it gives me pleasure to see 'desperation' playing a huge role there! Now that the opening ceremony has been a huge success in itself, it's time for the athletes to let 'desperation' get the better of them and win medals for the country, for themselves.

I met a person named Mr. Javed Iqbal (a photojournalist with The New Indian Express)during the screening of a couple of documentaries at Vikalp (Prithvi House). He has covered naxalism, illegal land-grab issues, illegal mining issues,etc. in the areas of Chhatisgarh and Orissa primarily, in great depth (you can read his articles on moonchasing.wordpress.com). And all of this has inspired me to write a script (finally!)entailing issues like naxalism, illegal land-grab, illegal mining, and recent killings of RTI activists and weaving a correlation, a link between these. The good thing is I have already started the research (secondary research, unfortunately! Ah! the cruel corporate world and the eternal loan-trap).

I watched an interview of Sir Ian Mckellen with BBC and the aura of the great Gandalf (Lord of the Rings)engulfed me instantly. Here's quoting him from the interview -  "...and for a man who doesn't have children to have bountiful grandchildren all over the world is...lovely."And then immediately, I thought of Sir Anthony Hopkins and Mr. Robin Jackman (the most modest and the most polite cricket commentator who my eyes were searching for during the entire IPL semi-final match between Deccan Chargers and Chennai Super Kings). I often wonder I have been desperate for a lot of things all my life (until now); for a lot many more, I still am.

Peace.

The Spirit of Desperation - I

The Bihar Economy grew by 11 per cent in the last five years, so I hear. Phrases like "Growth Miracle" and CM Nitish Kumar's "From No-Governance to sincere Governance" have clogged my head in much the same way as a monstrous Sinusitis. Bihar is making progress, sorry, continuous progress. Relevant authorities are working day-in and day-out towards building roads, bridges and other infrastructure. Significant reforms are being brought up in important sectors like Education, Public Health. Just a few minutes ago, I came to know a new Cyber Crime mitigation (& redressal) cell has been set up where one could make a complaint online. There are innumerable imponderables that may seek one's attention. But, what about me? I hail from the state of Bihar, did my schooling there and then left for Mumbai to further my education, my knowledge, my understanding of the world. Did I succeed? Yes. Did I fail? Yes. "Yes" in acquiring it all and "Yes" in losing the intent behind acquiring it all.

I pursued a five-year integrated MBA (Tech.) program from an elite business school here in Mumbai and am currently working with an MNC quite well compensated. It's a bank and is a good enough platform to kickstart my career. But, my mind is elsewhere. I also wish to be a part of the "Growth Miracle" and not indirectly. I have always wished to work somewhere where I could directly influence people's lives in a positive way. I could console myself by thinking the whole of India is mine and it, indeed, is but my heart is here, in Bihar and at my village in particular. I am not saying all this because of homesickness. I have been homesick for as long as 6 years now, so that is, indeed, not the cause. the cause of this horrible terrible disturbance is Desperation. I look towards the Idiot Box, flip through the channels vigorously only to stop at Mahuaa TV and I look at the Villages being shown, the cows, the oxen, the buffaloes, the tractors (the red ones, especially), the grasses, the crop-fields, the canals, the people, the dialect, the people's ensemble, the trees, the ponds, the wells, the huts, the kachcha homes, a couple of primitive pakka homes, the schools, the techers, the bicycles,the paan shops, the small rickety grocery shops. I am desperate to embrace them all to never relinquish them. I wish to contribute to their growth by assisting the government with better governance, better execution of programs, employment schemes; I wish to look after the functioning of schools, to leverage my knowledge to better the mode as well as the content of education being imparted to children, to ensure every child goes to school and every person (mothers especially) is well educated about the positives of family-planning, birth control measures and significance of education. I wish to work towards producing many Village Level Entrepreneurs (VLEs) who could then contribute towards the Common Services Centre (CSC) or the e-Governance project initiated by the Government of India, I wish to help people work in cohesion and initiate many Self-Help Groups (SHGs) and Non-Governmental Organizations (NGOs) that could help the Government with better execution of its flagship schemes and also keep vigilance on the same. I wish to totally utilize my skills, competencies, and knowledge to harness the huge potential that villages have to offer. For example: I wish to work towards making villages a bio-gas hub, a solar-energy hub, etc. I wish to  create a virtual market for agriculturists (marginal farmers, especially) so that the hapless bread-growers needn't travel miles to sell their harvests for a meagre sum. Instead, they would only focus on their work i.e. growing crops, the rest would be taken care of by the virtual market. More on this later for I do not wish to digress from the point I wish to make.

I wish to do a lot many more things but I can't. I just CAN'T. I have a humongous loan to repay which has already amounted to almost INR 10 Lacs which requires me to work away from home for at least a couple of years more. I know I shall return one day but I wish that day was today for I wish to become a part of the process, the transformation, the growth, the miracle so that I could do justice to the humongous sum I invested in acquiring all that I intended to utilize to influence my people's lives directly. This is the spirit of desperation that questions me every now and then when shall I start and I only wish I could say - Today !  

Reminiscences of a fuhrer

Reminiscences of a fuhrer

I evoked dread in them all,

No.....actually I used to,

'twas long ago
even memory betrays me.

One day, I was their pride;
a symbol of strength, power, and might to some,

whereas to some, I epitomized beauty and even identity.

An inseparable part of their lives, I was.

Punctuated a canvas sometimes,

I've often enjoyed my part in many a folklore too;

mascot to innumerable events across the globe,

they've all been slaves to my charismatic woo.

And then, there've been times when

creatures much weaker to me have

challenged the mother nature and 

forced me into an undeserved brutal penitentiary

-- the ugly thankless trespassers !

There are times when I so desperately wish

I could rant my vitriol onto them,

but I can't....

I can't articulate the way they do, the trespassers.

There are times when I so desperately wish

I could urge and plead them, the trespassers,

to go back to their land and leave my haven,

as my family, to my grief and their joy, 

reduces to a meagre fourteen hundred and eleven.

There are times when I so desperately wish

the halcyon years returned.

I became the fuhrer once again 

and they all kept distance,

respecting my identity and dreading my presence. 

R.S. February 01, 2010.

Ae Zaalim !

Ae Zaalim !, originally uploaded by SubhashJha.

ये खिड़की मेरी, वो दरवाज़ा तेरा...
ये नुक्कड़, वो गली, अब इंसानों का डेरा |

बदन के चंद हिस्से मेरे, जिन्हें फ़लक के सितारे नसीब थे कभी...
वो हिस्से आज कल कुछ कराहते हैं...
कहते हैं वो अर्श यावर(यार) था उनका |

मेरे तो होंठ दबे हैं कुछ बिल्डिंगों के वज़न से वरना बोलता --
वो एक हमसफ़र भी तूने ऐ ज़ालिम -- छीना मेरा |

Tamso Ma Jyotirgamaya !

Tamso Ma Jyotirgamaya !, originally uploaded by SubhashJha.

Tamso Ma Jyotirgamaya is a sanskrit phrase meaning "Andhkaar se prakash ki or".

This is what (very) early morning at Navi Mumbai looks like.


Come to the "light".

Hope

Hope, originally uploaded by SubhashJha.

"Hope is a good thing. Infact, the best of things and no good thing ever dies"
...'Red'(Morgan Freeman in Shawshank Redemption)

Come what may, "Hope" always finds a way to permeate to the other side of darkness.


Hope !

Aks

Aks , originally uploaded by SubhashJha.

Sagar ke aseemit vistaar me bhi Suraj ki Kirnein apna aks dhoondh hi leti hain.



Let there be light !

Stairway to heaven

Stairway to heaven, originally uploaded by SubhashJha.

Karla Caves in Maharashtra. The stairway is too narrow and far too slippery here.

A temple sits above the caves and is famous for animal(goat, especially)-sacrifices.


Kill

Baadalon Ki Gehraai

Baadalon Ki Gehraai, originally uploaded by SubhashJha.

On my way to Rajgir(Bihar) once, I captured this balnket of clouds -- pure as Dove, it was captivating to say the least.




Peace

A Chronic Shortage

A Chronic Shortage, originally uploaded by SubhashJha.

In this country (India) of everincreasing births of Children with no owned mother, this comes as "heartening" , very heartening, indeed.


Cheers !

A Heap of Debris

Hi Folks !


What follows is a reflection of my observations I fancy each morning amidst a slow cool breeze I subject myself to. Do let me know how you felt.


A Heap of Debris...

I awoke this morning

to a breeze so gentle.

Kissing me, it moved some more and went afar,

lost in wilderness across the horizon.

Stretching a little, I realized

I was amidst a heap of debris

and wondered how desperation defeats one’s senses !

I pulled myself off the heap

and started walking to fetch some water.

Little away, I found some stagnant water

serving a couple of pigeons already.

I wished to shoo them away

but found myself way too small and sans courage

to entertain any thoughts of doing so.

I waited for them to finish and

only after they flew away far enough to not be seen with naked eyes,

did I wag my tongue in an effort to wet my throat.

Right across the street, then

I saw numerous puppies surrounding their mother;

jumping at her, trying to touch her face,

all of them.

And then in a moment,

they all put their muzzles to her innumerable nipples

and their mother gazed satisfied, as they sucked life.

A sudden urge then developed

somewhere within me too

that wished to partake in the indulgence,

easily the most desperate one.

But I didn’t belong there, I knew

nor did I own her.

I too am a little puppy as they are

but we are different.

They own a mother that oozes life to them,

and I own nothing save a heap of debris

amidst which I awoke this morning

to a breeze so gentle...

R.S. January 08, 2010

Cheers !

Aal Izz Well

Let me confess at the very outset that this post, by no stretch of imagination, is an endeavor to review the magic called  "3 idiots (3i, hereafter)". I watched the movie this morning and however hard I try (actually I don't and don't want to for as long as possible !), I am just unable to get over the hangover (or magic,) should I say. And, that is why I was compelled (or deeply motivated) to scribble all that went through my head, my heart during and after the movie that so subtly breezed away from across my face into the infinite depth of the celluloid screen that stood as a monster with a plethora of question marks on its pimpled face long after the end of credits.

The way the camera rolled through the hills and greens of Shimla at the very start of the film enthralled me to the very core. Besides, the magical voice of Shaan (singer) put through some wonderful lyrics (Swanand Kirkire, the lyricist) made the captivation superlative. I like Madhavan and Sharman very much and was dreaded of my bias getting the better of me but the two idiots (suddenly the word seems a much coveted adjective, isn't it !) were superb in every word they uttered, every expression they gave, and every tear they shed and I have no doubt I am keeping the 'bias' intact. The scene where Farhan (Madhavan) tries to convince his father (the ever-sober sweet adorable Parikshit Sahni) reflects the brillaince of the actor, what a pull-off ! Same goes for all the emotional scenes filmed on Raju Rastogi (Sharman Joshi) especially in which he shares screen space with Rancho (coming to him in a bit, wait !). The interview scene is equally brilliant; the sincerity and the magic of simplicity of character and lines is amply evident. Kudos Sharman for that sincerity and simplicity !

After watching the disastrous De Dana Dan Goal, I had asked myself, "Why would an actor of the calibre of Boman Irani do such a film and do it so pathetically, who has always been great to watch and adore, be it as Doctor Asthana in Munnabhai MBBS or Happy Singh, the broker in Lage Raho Munnaibhai or the unscrupulous Khurana of Khosla ka Ghosla fame." BUT, (and that's a big one) after watching Viru Sahastrabuddhe in 3i, I can do nothing but bow before the man. This has to be, without a doubt, his best work to date (with Khurana of Khosla ka Ghosla falling a close second) and I don't want to act criminal here by not accolading (the little that I can, through my writing) his genius in the scene where he cries and gives his most prized possession, the astronaut's pen to Rancho (thank you for bearing with me...just a 'few' more lines).

Kareena Kapoor, needless to say (more so post Jab We Met), delivers another brilliant performance in what may look a cameo to some. She has pretty good space in the film and comes as a significant character out of the overall personality of the film. The ease with which she can change her expressions, the flexibility in changing gears, is envious. The fact gets reflected in most of her scenes especially the one where she enters the 3idiots' room drunk or the one where she is completely dejected at the knowledge of her sister's ill-born baby (Aal was well, though...so, don't worry...even that was an intelligent piece of writing on the part of the script-writers, Raj Kumar Hirani and Abhijat Joshi).

Mona Singh is good in her little role. Needless to say in this context, the whole childbirth scene was superb. Millimeter (the boy who does all the works of students at the hostel) and Chatur (the geek who could memorise every bit of the course text, even the punctuation marks) were brilliant. The Teacher's Day speech and the pets' introduction scene (yeh hai kilobyte, yeh Megabyte aur yeh inki maa Gigabyte) were hilarious and lovely respectively. What also stand out are the witty dialogues of Millimeter and the diction, pronounciation (of hindi words), and mannerisms of Chatur that are hilarious to the core and both of them have done tremendously as actors in whatever role they had.

And, now comes the turn of the charismatic Rancho (Aamir Khan), the man who, in his small little ways, transforms the approach his friends have towards life in general. The fact that he succeeds in unleashing the coconut in Virus (the otherwise stone-hearted individual who pressurizes his son so much on what he should opt for as a career he committed suicide) is exemplary of the fact that no matter what, one (audience included) just can't escape the effect of Rancho's subtle magic spelt in his ideologies and approach towards life. Every time Rancho comes on screen, which he does almost all the time, he enslaves you with his wit, logic, clarity of thought, way to living life, emotions, and what not. This has to be one of the most thought out and detailed characters he has ever played. I don't want people to laugh my competence out by commenting more on the acts of the maestro but I would definitely mention something Aamir has so made his own - the make-ups for different characters he plays; this was one again evident in 3i in the different make-ups he wore for the plethora of characters that Pia (Kareena Kapoor) fantasizes about and the scientist he plays (that Chatur was so desperate to ink a deal with).

The writer duo of Raj Kumar Hirani and Abhijat Joshi has delivered a stupendous product which takes script and dialogue writing to a new level altogether. I shall not comment more on this as I find myself speechless enough not to. Take a bow, both of you.

The master of all prestidigitators in this magical act, the director Raj Kumar Hirani extracts the very very best out of every actor in the film. In addition, the sense of music that he has deserves a big applause. Shantanu Moitra's music, Swanand Kirkire's lyrics, and Avit Dias (Aal izz well)/Bosco-Ceasar's (Zoobie-Doobie) choreography are all brilliantly timed and truly wonderful creations of art.

Aal Izz Well which has so truly and deservedly become the nation's anthem is a wonderful phrase presented beautifully and is already making rounds amongst the youth (especially) of the country.

3i, very successfully, sets a new benchmark in story-telling. It achieves a lot - it (together with Rocket Singh- salesman of the year, not so long ago) shows how significant writers are to a film, it reflects the fact that delivering simplicity (while acting a character) makes any character look truly exceptional, and it demonstrates  yet again that directors can do wonders with scripts and actors.

As I already said, it's magical. Aal Izz Well with me and wish Aal Izz Well with you.

Bhopal Revisited !

First of all, my apologies for keeping away for such a long time but believe me, I have been really preoccupied with certain academic obligations at college.

Anyway, this particular post is dedicated to a case on unarguably the most horrifying humanitarian (corporate/industrial) disaster better known to us as the "Bhopal Gas Tragedy" and let me tell you at the very outset, TRAGEDY would definitely have to be an understatement which I am pretty sure not many would disagree with once they have read through the post.

For the detailed case, kindly refer to the book "Environmental Management" by Dr. Bala Krishnamoorthy (Page Nos. 208-212, Case 2: Bhopal Revisited); the Google link to the book is http://tiny.cc/NIzFD (Kindly go to page no 208). I have tried to analyse the case to the best of my ability. This post is an endeavor to bring to your knowledge the details of the case and seeks your sincere attention, in general. Read On !

Facts of the case

• §    On December 2^nd and 3^rd, 1984, a Union Carbide plant in Bhopal, India, began leaking 27 tonnes of deadly methyl isocyanate gas
• §    On the portentous night of December 2^nd, 1984, when an employee was flushing a corroded pipe, multiple stopcocks failed and allowed water to flow freely into the largest tank of MIC (methyl isocyanate) the exposure of which led to an uncontrolled reaction; the tank blasted and spewed a deadly cloud of MIC, hydrogen cyanide, monomethyl amine and other chemicals. Mother Nature did no mercy either and blown by the prevailing winds, the ominous cloud blanketed over the city of Bhopal and soon thereafter, incessant death counts started.
• §    Casualties: actual figures unknown; approximation of Municipal Workers – 15,000
• §     As many as 20,000 people have died to date as a result of the deadly exposure and more than 1,20,000 people still suffer from ailments caused by the accident and the subsequent pollution at the plant site
• §    Nearby water bodies heavily contaminated with mercury, lead, and other heavy metals in addition to harmful organochlorides
• §    Every safety system that had been installed to prevent a leak of MIC (methyl isocyanate) – at least six in all – ultimately proved inoperative
• §    In 2001, Michigan-based chemical corporation Dow Chemical purchased Union Carbide, thereby acquiring its assets and liabilities
• §    Mr. Warren Anderson, Union Carbide’s CEO at the time of disaster, has never stood trial before an Indian court and on top of that, has evaded even an international arrest warrant and a summons to appear before a US court
• §    The Union Carbide Corporation, charged with culpable homicide (a criminal charge with no upper limit on the penalty associated with it), has also refused to appear before an Indian court

Consequences of the disaster

The havoc that the gas leakage unleashed in Bhopal should be appreciated in the light of the long term effects/consequences it had and the immediate effects should not be considered alone.

• §    Immediate casualties in thousands and the effects of the disaster felt even today in the form of an epidemic of cancers, menstrual disorders, ‘monstrous births’, and other ailments
• §    The gas affected people continue to succumb to injuries sustained during the disaster, dying at the rate of one each day
• §    Dow Chemicals has consistently and stringently maintained it isn’t liable for the Bhopal accident although by corporate law, it is the acquirer of both the assets as well as the liabilities of Union Carbide
• §    Treatment protocols are hampered by the company’s (Union Carbide’s as well as Dow Chemical’s ) continuous refusal to share information it holds on the toxic effects of MIC claiming the data is a “trade secret”
• §    Local groundwater and well water near the site of accident revealed mercury at levels between 20,000 to 6 million times than those expected
• §    Cancer and brain-damage and birth-defect-causing chemicals were found in the water; trichloro-ethene, a chemical shown to impair fetal development, was found at levels 50 times higher than EPA safety limits
• §    Testing has revealed presence of poisons such as 1,3,5 trichlorobenzene, dichloromethane, chloroform, lead, and mercury in the breast milk of nursing women
• §    The children of gas-affected women are subject to a frightening array of debilitating illness, including retardation, gruesome birth defects, and reproductive disorders
• §    In 1989, Union Carbide, in partial settlement with the Indian government, agreed to pay out some $470 million in compensation; the victims were not consulted in the settlement discussions, and many felt cheated by the compensation -- $300 - $500 – or about five years’ worth of medical expenses

Concluding Remarks

Bhopal Gas Tragedy provides for an acute case of “corporate negligence” on the part of first, the Union Carbide Corporation, and then by its owner, Dow Chemical. The following points shall conclude my understanding of the case:

• §    The Union Carbide factory was in shackles right from the outset because the sales never met company’s expectations owing to the incapacity of the Indian farmers to buy Union Carbide’s pesticides. The plant never reached its full capacity and ceased active production in the early 1980s
• §    However, three tanks continued to hold over 60 tonnes of MIC and to add to the already existing negligence, the safety systems installed to avoid the leakage of the poisonous (and deadly) MIC were allowed to fall into disrepair which ultimately proved inoperative
• §    The maintenance was so bad that on that unfortunate night, multiple stopcocks failed allowing water to flow freely into the largest tank containing MIC. The exposure of water thus led to an uncontrolled reaction blasting the tank and spewing a deadly cloud of MIC, hydrogen cyanide, monomethyl amine, and other chemicals all over the city of Bhopal causing immediate casualties

Had there been timely and proper maintenance and audit of the plant and the site, the disaster could have been avoided, for sure.

It has already been mentioned that no party, neither the Union Carbide Corporation nor Dow Chemical seem to be accepting their mistakes or accepting any liabilities. This is clearly reflected by the fact that the site itself has never been cleaned up, and a new generation is being poisoned by the chemicals that Union Carbide left behind.

The role of the government and the judiciary is far from satisfactory in this case. Neither of the two parties has been stringent enough to bring the perpetrators of the crime (of negligence and thereafter not taking responsibility) to the court of law. Our failure to bring Mr. Warren Anderson, the then CEO of Union Carbide before the court of law is evidence enough to show our lack of authority and seriousness in the matter.

Merely shelling out money as compensation shall not do justice to the case on the whole. It is worth mentioning in this context that the victims were not consulted and a sort of unilateral decision as regards to the amount of compensation was taken.

There is a lot that needs to be done for the victims (including survivors) of this horrifying humanitarian disaster. Issues like cleaning up of the site, adequate compensation, adequate health measures, etc. should be very strictly dealt with. Besides, the state (in collaboration with the Central Government) government should take some stern action through the protocols prescribed in the Indian Judicial System and bring those responsible in any way whatsoever, to the court of law and punish them as severely as possible considering the extent of destruction (of life and property) and the catastrophe (psychological) brought to all those people who were affected, in some way or the other, that unfortunate night.

However, inspite of all the analyses and discussions, there is no way one can comprehend what happened that fateful night or feel what went through people's minds while running randomly for their lives on that night of ominous significance. The following statement from Rashida Bi, a survivor who lost five gas-exposed family members to cancers sums it all :

"Those who escaped with their lives are the "unlucky ones"; the lucky ones are those who died on that night."

Too austere to appreciate !

I was eagerly awaiting NDTV's late night program "The Buck Stops Here" as the subject for panel-discussion was our very own very well known(by now, courtesy a grand media attention it has gathered) "The Great Austerity Drive" of the Indian National Congress. The Panel comprised the ubiquitous Jayanthi Natarajan (ubiquitous ! yes, she has to be; she is the AICC spokesperson, after all), Shyam Benegal, another lady and another gentleman (can't recall their names... my bad !). As was expected, Jayanthi Natarajan went on harping on what the INC stood for, what its (political) culture stood for, how insightful, thoughtful, and down-to-earth were the initiative(s) of the top brass of congress, right from the word 'go'. It's interesting to know that the protagonist to the play [who,supposedly, has spun a cobweb with a blue colored "t" written all over it ! (read Tweet...Tweet....Twitter !)], Dr. Shashi Tharoor, was a thousand miles away on an external affairs ministerial visit (to Liberia;yes, I have been following him on Twitter). The furor is an aftermath to a tweet answering a query (asking if Dr. Tharoor was willing to travel in the "cattle(economy) class") that stated "absolutely, in cattle class out of solidarity with all our 'holy cows'". My dear friend informed me that "cattle class" is an english slang and a british colloquialism used commonly by the inhabitants there. Besides, the phrase 'holy cows' refers to some sacrosanct belief or principle that nobody can challenge. To my earlobes, though, the phrases did sound  a touch demeaning and inconsequential, both at the same time. As Ms. Jayanti told, innumerable people travel by economy class and to use such phrases(in public domain !) was totally condemnable, disgraceful, unacceptable and a politically incorrect act, more so on the part of such a learned traveled well-read experienced scholarly man. But she couldn't recall enough to tell that it was a phrase that he (Dr. Tharoor) had only repeated, the real culprit (in the eyes of INC, of course) was the journalist who used that phrase in his question. But, even that is totally dispensable. There are bigger more important issues to address.

It is true that the Congress' austerity spree has gained much hullabaloo amidst all the debates and discussions that it has garnered but I certainly see it in light of a certain betrayal to the humongous innocent public that announced its verdict in favour of the congress led UPA not so long ago. The so-called Austerity drives, the Yatras (Rath or Pad or Whatever), all these activities draw great public attention and instantaneously connect with the aam-aadmi by virtue of first, these activities being blessed with an inherent property of amassing billions and second, harnessing the Achilles heel  of us Indians, our emotions and succeed every time because we are like that only, we are emotional people, how much ever we try to, we can never wish away the fact that we have always been and we are still being hoodwinked or to use a simpler and precise word, befooled by the so-called altruism of our governors occupying apex governmental positions(either directly or with an indirect discreetness...read 'Sonia Gandhi').

India, in its 60 odd years since independence, has amassed many issues of critical importance worth applying our brains to and has been really struggling all through to find a way out as if Stuck in a Labyrinth !. We have made tremendous progress too in almost every realm (which I hold no intention to slight to the least) but every time activities like the current austerity drive come up, it leaves me thinking, have we? Really? The incumbent government has a lot to tackle, abject poverty, unemployment, the recession (it's not over till it's over!), the drought,  terrorism, intrusions at the borders, the immediate neighbourhood and accompanying tensions, to name a few. Seeking solutions to these problems and many others would be the real austerity drive for the government. There are innumerable avenues where the government can exhibit its sincerity(in executing government sponsored welfare schemes and other development programs), adroitness(in tackling external affairs and cross-border issues), care(for the poor food growers, downtrodden women, and children), and austerity(in dealing with criminals, terrorists, and other anti-social evils). Suffice it to say, governments at the helm of affairs have, over the years, performed far from satisfactory on all these indices.

It's time governments stopped betraying innocent people on the pretext of so-called austerity drives. It's time governments started behaving more responsively in a manner justifying the trust of billions of people who have nothing but hope in their eyes and in a manner ensuring the hope remains.There are, indeed, bigger more important issues to address.

To get a different and critical perspective on the issue (austerity drive), this piece by Mr. Rajdeep Sardesai is strongly recommended. Follow the link - Keep it Simple

Stuck in a Labyrinth !

'J'indagi jeene ke do-ee tarikke ote ain...ek, jo ho raha hai hone do, bardaasht karte jaao Ya 'j'immedaari uthaao use badalne ki                                                            ...Rang De Basanti (the movie)


All said and done, what if someone is hapless enough to fail to get/understand/comprehend as to what he/she has been dropped in this world for, what is it he/she wants to do, to achieve in life, where lie his/her interests, what should he/she strive for, what should he/she live for?

Read on...

Mother: Hello?
Subhash Jha*: Hello, could I speak with Subhash Jha?
Mother: I am afraid he can't be seen around...(before she could complete)
Subhash Jha*: He must be sleeping, I was wondering if you could please wake him up. It's urgent.
Mother: May I know who's speaking?
Subhash Jha*: My name is Subhash Jha...(before I could complete)
Mother: (remains startled for a moment... then laughs) Ohh, Mrityunjay ! You will never change. Just hold on while I shall go and wake him up.
Subhash Jha: Yeah Mrityunjay, tell me ! Long time !!!
Subhash Jha*: Hi Subhash, this is your alter ego. This is important. Hear me out....(Subhash remains flabbergasted and slavishly(in a manner characteristic of a slave) lends his advertent ear to the most 'important' voice he would ever hear)


A very 'dear friend' of yours was talking to me this morning thinking he was talking to you. We were conversing just perfunctorily when I told him about your friend Mrityunjay who used to follow you (whatever you did so far as academics is concerned) all the time the same way many school-going kids follow their friends or friends-of-friends. I told him how he behaved perversely in his pursuit of admission into an Indian Institute of Technology inspite of your constant reminders on  how good an artist he was, how good he could draw, how good he could sketch and how deservedly he could get admission into National Institute of Design, Ahmedabad, one of the elite institutions for 'design'. I told him about how Mrityunjay finally understood what he wanted to do and more importantly what he was dropped in this world for to do and appeared for the entrance examinations of various institutions (with courses in 'design') only to land up finally in one of the National Institute of Fashion Technology centers which was no mean feat, by any standards.

And, then, as you are well aware Mrityunjay went on to find his name registered in the list of designers endorsed by the institute (NIFT) itself as well as in the list endorsed by the Handloom Export Promotion Council of India on its website ( the government website).


I told your 'dear friend' how Mrityunjay, ultimately, got to understand why he was there at all...Yes...I told him he finally fathomed he was there to design the grandest stage of them all.... Life..... in his own original authentic way, that he reincarnated that day as a true artist without following anyone, bereft of all spuriousness.

And then, your 'dear friend' spoke for the first time in ages...the very first time he was speaking of self, with soul, out of desperation, in pain. He told me he had just started his corporate career with a bank and that he had come to know, after the very first month at the bank, he did not want that...he told me he was oblivious to what he wanted to do, what he wished to achieve, what he was dropped in this world for, in the first place, and I could easily see the "Mrityunjay" in him. And this is not a one-out-of-a-million kind of case. This is true for most of your friends, your colleagues, your acquaintances, your relatives (belonging to similar age-groups) and most importantly it's so very true for you.

I know all this because we have enjoyed this ride together....the grand ride right from becoming a supreme academician to a simple villager in pursuit of attaining his visionary goals for his village (and other villages) to a finance wizard to an epitome of corporate success to a vocalist with a sensational musical band to an adroit film-maker making films covering meaningful, realistic, public subjects to an author with the Booker prize to his name to a Nobel Laureate in Literature to a Ph.D holder in Economics to a Nobel Laureate (again!!!) in Economics to an ardent philosopher with specializations in the emotions of Love and Friendship to an eminent Volleyball Player winning the gold medal at the Olympics (in the most dramatic final of all time) for your country to a self dependent hugely successful entrepreneur to a top-notch civil servant to an honest politician. I have been as integral a part of your dreams as the plum is to the pudding.

And I wish to help you out of this labyrinth that you and your 'dear friend' find yourselves so badly stuck in or at least I can make as sincere an endeavour as the mighty sun makes to bless us all with the indispensable sunlight, every single day of our lives. The only way known to me is to follow a conscious mental and purposive process relying on thinking, reasoning, and examining one's own thoughts, feelings and more often than not, one's soul. It can also be called contemplation of one's self i.e. observation of things internal to one's self. And, so my 'dear friend', here's your alter ego asking you to follow the path to your soul, your self......follow and help your 'dear friend' follow the path they call Introspection. 


(The phone was hung up, the voice muted and Subhash Jha awoke from a dream that was to change his life forever...He is currently in pursuit of a living that could easily qualify for the definition of "halcyon years")


Mera yakeen hai ki hum sab is duniya mein koi ek khaas kaam karne ke liye bheje gaye hain. Zyadatar log to umra bhar bhatakte rehte hain yeh jaane bagair ki unki zindagi ka maqsad kya hai, kuchh heen khushkismat hain jo is khazaane ko pa jaate hain........aur hum mein se kuchh aise bhi begairat hain jo ise ganwa dete hain.                                                                                                                             ...Iqbal (the movie)
                                                                                                                                                 

Home Alone...confessions of a blogger

Keywords(for assistance  only and strictly not to question/challenge your vocabulary):

- Penitentiary : (noun, /pen-i-ten-shuh-ri/) a prison for people convicted of serious crimes

- Audacious : (adjective, /aw-day-shuhss/) willing to take bold risks

- Wrath : (noun, /roth, rawth/) extreme anger

- Lest : (conjunction, /lest/) so as to prevent any possibility that, for fear that

- Amorous : (adjective, /uh-mor-ruhss/) strongly attracted or disposed to love, especially sexual love 

- Aliter : (in Latin) means 'otherwise' or 'using another method' or 'alternatively' generally used with mathematical theorems or proofs

- Smutty : (adjective) dirty, sooty(also indecent)

- Surreptitious : (adjective, /sur-ruhp-ti-shuhss/) done secretly

- Afore : (preposition) before

- Austere : (adjective, /oss-teer/) strict or severe in manner or appearance

Hello Everyone !

Yes, I am alive. I do wish to inform,however, that I have come across absolutely nothing enticing enough[except the sad demise of Andhra Pradesh Chief Minister Shri. Y S Rajasekhar Reddy(sad because of the mode and the time(he was barely 60 !)) and a handful off his praja(YSR's win is supposedly attributed, in a way, to the Prajarajyam chief Chiranjeevi who (supposedly) nailed an otherwise bright prospect of a Chandrababu Naidu win) or should I say 'people-who-loved-him-and-could-not-imagine-living-in a world-with everyone-but-YSR who decided to follow suit(depart as untimely as the ill-fated YSR, the man supposedly responsible for bringing good fortune to the state of Andhra) !]  to write on/about/for for the past few days and I find myself innocent enough to be able to avoid a penitentiary. No, this is not to flaunt my "vocabulary enrichment" endeavours I have been making all these days(days of no blogging) and I am audacious enough to face the wrath of readers of this blog who can(and should) feel free to comment on my sincerity and discipline as regards updating my blog(yes, I know you found a 'my' there in the sentence but I must avow I was not being sarcastic).

Okay! Getting back to business, I wish to inform(actually, I am dying to inform) the ardent reader has reached Page No. 272 [(522 minus 273(Shashi, will you please do the honours?) more pages to go!] of Tarun's book (his name is Tarun Tejpal, I am reading his book titled "The Story of my Assassins", No, he is not my friend...I wrote Tarun and not his full name just like that....yes, just like that...there is no sarcasm here, chill !). I just finished watching "The Silence of the Lambs"(Yes, I saw the great Hannibal Lecter and I have no intentions of playing him in the next couple of lines of this piece) and I have planned to resume reading Tarun's book lest I gift myself another moment of anxiety/irritation/frustration about not being able to start reading the next one in queue that I am so amorously excited about. But that's after I finish writing this 'piece'(I beg your pardon for being repetitive. Actually, I like this word a lot, piece...aliter you can use 'post'). At this point, I wish to hog upon something...anything that qualifies for 'edible', BUT unfortunately, the paranthas(that our cook makes for me every single day) are all gone and the chapatis could not wait for long either to follow suit emptying the case roll and now all I am left with is my(ohhkay Malik's...Malik, happy? I know you are laughing) kitchen that has become an abode of raw vegetables(can be cooked, I know), groceries(all raw),smutty utensils(required to cook food...for instance, kadahi, tava, kalchhul, chholni, pateela, and pressure cookers(yes, we have a family of 'Prestige' cookers ranging from a 1 litre child to a 5 litre monster!)...all dirty except for the steel-plates(to eat on...Good-for-nothing things reminding me of the fictional character Mahfuz Ali from "Love Across the Salt Desert" by K N Daruwalla, the opening chapter of CBSE Class XII English text book that all we classmates paid great attention towards because of the adjectives used by the writer to describe the anatomy of the female protagonist named Fatimah in the subtlest of ways)....and and I forgot to mention......a tap bereft of water!!! OhMyGod! Finally, I have something.You will be glad to know I have gotten myself hold of a pack of biscuits surreptitiously kept in one of the jars(one that has some variety of indigenous dal in it) and I am going to keep myself busy with the task of finishing it off(I can't abstain from any divine spiritual act, you know !) till I regain my senses [yes, you read correctly...it is 'senses'...could you not find it all so very nonsensical? you have got to be kidding me......OhMyGod, are your really not kidding me! Okay, I get it now......you need some rest off your daily works that are potent avenues of stress strong enough to affect your left brain muscles (the left brain is the one looking after 'logical reasoning' !)enough to render it bereft of logic or at least visit a doctor........just kidding ! Chill !] and put my mind to something more productive.

Okay, I am off to the task I told you about a couple of lines afore but not before promising you that I shall blog, as better as I can and as often as my right-brain muscles(the ones responsible for intuitive behaviour!) tickle, with austere sincerity and discipline.

Till then, take very good care of yourselves. Good Bye.