It's the easiest job in the world for me. Judging other people, their behaviour, their performances, their actions. It's the one task where you need no certification for the role, simply privilege of position. You stand to lose nothing as a judge, while the judged stand to lose everything. You need no tools or statistics to guide you, only a personal point of view. How easier can it get? Everyday, we expose ourselves to the world, where every step we take is watched, each failure we encounter is counted, every shortcoming we disclose is noticed. The society is divided into two buckets - winners and losers - and who wants to be in the losers bucket?
When did living become synonymous with winning? When did tryers become synonymous with losers? I am not sure. Maybe as I was growing up?
My Judge is a Superstar
I recently read a disturbing news item, where a teenage girl, with an established dance background, walked into a TV show for performing in a televised contest, and was rebuked by the "star" judges for her performance. Young minds don't need this kind of treatment, not in front of millions of vicarious hounds sitting in front of their TV sets, waiting for someone to slip-up and be virtually slapped in public. Yeah, this is entertainment, alright. Ask the parents of the girl, as they wait in agony day and night at the hospital, awaiting their daughter to come out of shock which has dragged her into post-depression semi-paralysis and muteness.
Shows in the West often add spice by adding high-profile judges who are given liberty to exercise no restraint on verbal extremities when chiding a contestant. It makes great prime-time television as you watch the wheat separated from the chaff, and the chaff gets a nice whack on the stone in the process too. Shows like American Idol, The Apprentice, Hell's Kitchen and numerous other reality-based shows have grabbed the attention of eyeballs and eardrums by thumping participants in public. If you are good, you are showered in gold. If you are less than good, you are soaked in manure, thrown into a pig-sty, and left to dry in the hot sun. It's sad to see, these kind of barbaric television antics are being fed to entertainment-hungry Indians too now. And how they are lapping it all up!
Who are you to wave your finger?
Who defines "good"? How do you know how far less than good is considered bad? Is a successful endeavour one where a single person excels and the whole world is left in awe, or one where no single person wins and everyone ends up better for the effort? The premise of judgement is so murky and left to individual perspectives, one is surprised why we give it so much importance in our daily lives.
Why do I get affected when someone glances scornfully at my attire? Fashion to one, is rags to the other.
Why are grades in school given more weight than what the student actually learns? We all know Einsteins are not produced in schools.
When did overcoming stage-fear and putting up a public performance start producing rebuke instead of applause? When I was a kid, you were a winner even if you stood mute on the stage and walked out when the bell rang.
If I continue listing all the judgement one has to face in a lifetime, I could write a book on it. The real question is, why are we, as humans, both ready to dish out verdicts and to succumb under their burden? More importantly, why do we let every single person who cares to judge us, judge us? Just because they achieved something which is noteworthy? Just because that is how they command respect? Oh how great it must feel to tell someone what you think of them and then bask in the thoughts that she will be better for it, for setbacks trigger fightbacks to success!
I Will Be The Judge Now
Here, then is my verdict! It is the natural tendency of a competitive human species to push down the others when they themselves feel threatened. Sometimes, pushing down the weak, makes the strong feel stronger. Sometimes, they stand up and "frankly" point out weaknesses, believing it will earn them respect. We have to learn to accept this nature, and have a strong filter to only let through those statements that matter. Building the filter itself, is an act that can take a lifetime, but we can get to work on it today.
I should admit, for all that I write here, I have been known to be highly susceptible to negative feedback, and hugely reliant on positive ones. But, I believe I have learnt a lot in the process. The simplest way is to only trust feedback from the ones you know really care about you - your family and the closest friends in whom you can always confide in. It's true that there could be so much feedback you miss out on because not everyone in your circle is good at everything, and can comment on everything. But, one will learn in time to tune their ears to the right feedback, both positive and negative, from all around. It is always important to know that negative feedback should never affect your spirits, and should only be treated as course-correction at best, not a disaster of titanic proportions.
What is sad though, is that many a time, I have witnessed parents push their children past the limits to pedestals where they are exposed to such chiding. Victory is sometimes more important for the parents, than for the kid. Where can a youngster hide, if eventually, he has to face the wrath of his father for losing a tennis match or the ladle of her mom for slipping during the dance recital? For people to be safe of all that is bad in the world, there needs to be a home that they can always be accepted in, without any judging. Without that, no filter will ever be good enough.
Nevertheless, it helps to remember, if there's one thing Einstein has taught us, it is that everything the human mind can discern is relative, and nothing in that realm is absolute. Judgements too, are after all, creations of the human mind.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Sunday, June 15, 2008
The Oranje Locomotive
The Oranje Locomotive is hurtling down the tracks at Euro 2008 and crushing everything that comes in its way!
Yes, the UEFA Euro 2008 football competition is underway (and there is no way you will make me call it Soccer) and the draw pitted three of European football's giants in the same group, which then had to be called, in a rather cliched fashion, the Group of Death. World Cup champions Italy, Runners-up France and the mighty Netherlands were all drawn together in Group C, alongside Romania, who for all their underdog tags, did of course win their qualifying group ahead of the Dutch. All eyes were on this group to produce the tight games and nerve-wrecking climaxes. However, it has been a let-down in that respect! But, thrown at us, especially those of us who were born after the Johan Cruyff era, an exhibition of Total Football from the nation that invented it, but has rarely been able to put together in recent times.
The Colour
When I was a kid, I would be asked to pick a favourite colour, and I would always plump for Orange. I believe it must have been the striking flashiness, and the unconventional nature of the colour, that caught my roving eye. I was distraught there was no "Orange house" (a house is like a fraternity) in my primary school, while they had Red, Yellow, Green and Blue. I did choose the closest colour house of course, Red. I would always paint my Suns a bright orange, and never a yellow.
Little wonder then, that when I was first exposed to a football World Cup, I took a look at the jerseys the Dutch put on, and I elected to be a fan. If there is one thing about Orange, it is that it never goes unnoticed. And I read in the football history books, that the same could be said of some of the football the Oranje had played - easy on the eye, exciting and attacking from the back. I needed no more reassuring, especially given Homeland was, and still is, decades away from qualifying.
Total Football
The concept of Total Football is very Dutch. The team is composed of 11 players who are all technically able to pick out passes and have supreme ball control skills. This enables even the defenders to start pushing from the back, defending high up the field, and playing a crucial part in the attack. Why attack with 6 when you can as well attack with 10? The full-backs are as good wingers, as they are defenders. The midfield will have a couple of master technicians and the frontmen will be clinical finishers. When all of this works, oh, what joy it is to watch!
Sadly, ever since I started following the Dutch at major tournaments, they have been mostly disappointing. The Total Football has not been as brilliant, or sometimes missing, and they have on occasion failed to even qualify for the big-uns. But, come Euro 2008, that has all turned around on a heel.
Teed up against World Cup winners Italy, and arguably the best defence in World football, they gave them a 3-0 drubbing. The latter two goals bore fruit from swift counter-attack manoeuvres, where Italy came ever-so-close to scoring themselves, but instead of heaving a sigh of relief, the Dutch decided to break forward and punish them, and they scored within 20 seconds of the chance at the other end. Those goals were phenomenal, and lightning fast, built with team work and individual skills and pace, and clinical finishing. Coach Marco Van Basten, a clinical finisher himself, from the excellent Dutch team of the 80s, must have been proud.
The show continued, as World Cup runners-up France, hoped to prove the Oranje were a one-hit wonder, but instead got a lesson themselves. This time, the scoreline read 4-1.
The players
It wasn't all looking rosy (of course, the rose here is Orange too), for the Dutch prior to the tournament. Yes, they qualified comfortably, but did not win their group. Nor did they stir up a hornet's nest with their performances. There were grumbles all over the Dutch media and fans were not happy with the way the team was shaping up. They qualified with not only the least goals conceded, but also the least scored. That doesn't sound Dutch at all.
However, once the tournament kicked off, the young stars all came to life, wanting to prove why they are in the Dutch team! Youngsters Rafael Van Der Vaart, Wesley Sneijder and Arjen Robben have been the orchestrators from midfield, while the aging star Ruud Van Nistelrooy still puts them away up front. Robin Van Persie looks a promising striker himself. But, most surprising has been the performance of Giovani Van Bronkchorst, who has been springing forward from left-back whenever he can, and not just putting in the final cross, but also scoring himself. He looks a shadow of the player that left Arsenal, and then Barcelona, a few years ago. And so does Khalid Boulahrouz on the right, who hardly won fans over at Chelsea a season ago.
It must be the coach, Van Basten, who is motivating this team with so many young performers, toward glory. He's been there with the greats - Johan Cruyff, Ruud Gullit, Frank Rijkaard - and been a part of a team that excelled at Total Football. He knows how important it is to peak at the right team for a competition as big as this, and most importantly, knows how to win, Even if they do not win the cup, they have surely won over a few more fans who will not be shy to wear Oranje anymore!
Yes, the UEFA Euro 2008 football competition is underway (and there is no way you will make me call it Soccer) and the draw pitted three of European football's giants in the same group, which then had to be called, in a rather cliched fashion, the Group of Death. World Cup champions Italy, Runners-up France and the mighty Netherlands were all drawn together in Group C, alongside Romania, who for all their underdog tags, did of course win their qualifying group ahead of the Dutch. All eyes were on this group to produce the tight games and nerve-wrecking climaxes. However, it has been a let-down in that respect! But, thrown at us, especially those of us who were born after the Johan Cruyff era, an exhibition of Total Football from the nation that invented it, but has rarely been able to put together in recent times.
The Colour
When I was a kid, I would be asked to pick a favourite colour, and I would always plump for Orange. I believe it must have been the striking flashiness, and the unconventional nature of the colour, that caught my roving eye. I was distraught there was no "Orange house" (a house is like a fraternity) in my primary school, while they had Red, Yellow, Green and Blue. I did choose the closest colour house of course, Red. I would always paint my Suns a bright orange, and never a yellow.
Little wonder then, that when I was first exposed to a football World Cup, I took a look at the jerseys the Dutch put on, and I elected to be a fan. If there is one thing about Orange, it is that it never goes unnoticed. And I read in the football history books, that the same could be said of some of the football the Oranje had played - easy on the eye, exciting and attacking from the back. I needed no more reassuring, especially given Homeland was, and still is, decades away from qualifying.
Total Football
The concept of Total Football is very Dutch. The team is composed of 11 players who are all technically able to pick out passes and have supreme ball control skills. This enables even the defenders to start pushing from the back, defending high up the field, and playing a crucial part in the attack. Why attack with 6 when you can as well attack with 10? The full-backs are as good wingers, as they are defenders. The midfield will have a couple of master technicians and the frontmen will be clinical finishers. When all of this works, oh, what joy it is to watch!
Sadly, ever since I started following the Dutch at major tournaments, they have been mostly disappointing. The Total Football has not been as brilliant, or sometimes missing, and they have on occasion failed to even qualify for the big-uns. But, come Euro 2008, that has all turned around on a heel.
Teed up against World Cup winners Italy, and arguably the best defence in World football, they gave them a 3-0 drubbing. The latter two goals bore fruit from swift counter-attack manoeuvres, where Italy came ever-so-close to scoring themselves, but instead of heaving a sigh of relief, the Dutch decided to break forward and punish them, and they scored within 20 seconds of the chance at the other end. Those goals were phenomenal, and lightning fast, built with team work and individual skills and pace, and clinical finishing. Coach Marco Van Basten, a clinical finisher himself, from the excellent Dutch team of the 80s, must have been proud.
The show continued, as World Cup runners-up France, hoped to prove the Oranje were a one-hit wonder, but instead got a lesson themselves. This time, the scoreline read 4-1.
The players
It wasn't all looking rosy (of course, the rose here is Orange too), for the Dutch prior to the tournament. Yes, they qualified comfortably, but did not win their group. Nor did they stir up a hornet's nest with their performances. There were grumbles all over the Dutch media and fans were not happy with the way the team was shaping up. They qualified with not only the least goals conceded, but also the least scored. That doesn't sound Dutch at all.
However, once the tournament kicked off, the young stars all came to life, wanting to prove why they are in the Dutch team! Youngsters Rafael Van Der Vaart, Wesley Sneijder and Arjen Robben have been the orchestrators from midfield, while the aging star Ruud Van Nistelrooy still puts them away up front. Robin Van Persie looks a promising striker himself. But, most surprising has been the performance of Giovani Van Bronkchorst, who has been springing forward from left-back whenever he can, and not just putting in the final cross, but also scoring himself. He looks a shadow of the player that left Arsenal, and then Barcelona, a few years ago. And so does Khalid Boulahrouz on the right, who hardly won fans over at Chelsea a season ago.
It must be the coach, Van Basten, who is motivating this team with so many young performers, toward glory. He's been there with the greats - Johan Cruyff, Ruud Gullit, Frank Rijkaard - and been a part of a team that excelled at Total Football. He knows how important it is to peak at the right team for a competition as big as this, and most importantly, knows how to win, Even if they do not win the cup, they have surely won over a few more fans who will not be shy to wear Oranje anymore!
Sunday, June 01, 2008
An IIT for a vote
It sounds incredible - 20 years of education. I seem to have spent the major portion of my life "occupied" as a student in the schools and colleges of Homeland. I have studied in 3 different schools, one junior college, one engineering college and finally an IIT.
As I look back, how many teachers jump to mind that make you feel proud for even being in their presence? How many moments can I recollect from these institutes where I went 'A-ha' because I grasped something magical? How much did we actually learn from this huge investment of our lives, other than the stuff we crammed in from text books just to regurgitate it out on the exam papers? What did we finally earn other than glorious degree certificates, that do not say we know something, but that we made the examiner believe we do? Did we undergo higher education, or was it just "hire" education?
Textbooks - A student's best friend?
Teaching to the book. Sticking to the curriculum. Covering the syllabus in time. These are "mantras" I have seen most teachers in my life follow. My experiences might be too specific; perhaps down to the choice of schools I went to. But, I am in no doubt as to why I learnt nothing at school, but more from the Time-Life series of Illustrated Encyclopedia and the World Book Encyclopedia. The textbooks served up facts in a totally unmotivating fashion, while these other books encouraged you to do experiments and learn for yourself. Isn't that the best way to learn - doing stuff?
Aren't textbooks merely meant to be guides to what a kid needs to learn? Why then do schools stick to only cramming little heads with sequence of words from a textbook, when they don't understand the sentence? Doesn't that show them the trees in the forest, without them knowing they are looking at a forest? And that there are more trees they would never be shown unless they tread forward on their own?
Quantity not quality
One of the problems, especially in higher education, is the fact that the HRD (Human Resources Development) or the Education ministry, needs to show numbers. "A million graduate seats over the country, half a million engineering graduates, fifty thousand engineering post-grads. Ok, that meets the demand. Students are happy, industry is happy." I have personally watched the number of engineering seats, in Maharashtra alone, multiply over the years, as new colleges get immediate sanction and mushroom all over the place. I watched as folks two years senior struggled to get admitted, and again watched a few years later as most who wanted a seat did get one, albeit in remotely accessible, poorly developed institutes.
The colleges that sprout up all over the country, do not all meet the high standards setup by the AICTE, but still get sanction by pressure from politicians that back them. Some of these colleges are blatantly named after politicians or their mentors, and there is nothing left to one's imagination as to why they are still standing. Higher education is good business.
Take my engineering college for example. Facility-wise, it was among the best around. Splendid class rooms, well-equipped labs, and a sparkling building that reminds one of a four-star hotel. When the classes begin, some teachers fumble around calling a "semi-colon" a "semi-comma", while others just leave us in awe, not because they are exemplary, but because they are only a couple of years older than we are. In four years, I can remember maybe two lecturers who stood to gain my respect, and that is poor considering I sat through at least twenty different lecturers.
Notably, the Commission on Growth and Development, in its report on Strategies for Sustained Growth and Development noted as one of the essential "sins" that economies that fail to sustain growth commit - "Measuring educational progress solely by the construction of school infrastructure or higher enrollments, instead of focusing on the extent of learning."
Haste is waste
Of the 20 years of education, I can say without doubt that the culminating final two years were simply the best. I would say that of the 15-odd professors I learnt from, maybe two weren't impressive enough, but you still respected them. The rest, just blow you away with their delivery styles and the grasp of their subjects. You get absorbed into the lectures and you want to solve their assignments because you are enjoying the learning experience. Simply put, even for a Master's graduate, IIT is definitely the best place to be at if you want to study in Homeland. The atmosphere, the culture, the class-mates, the teachers, the facilities are out of this world. And everyone deserves to get that experience before diving into the rat race of the real world.
That said, there is a reason why those institutes are so good today. Pandit Nehru saw a dream once that India would be self-sufficient in science and technology, and nurtured the IIT system as a means to fulfill his dream. It is over the years that IIT has learnt to adapt itself and become an institute of world renown. Today, most of them are self-sufficient and do not depend on huge government grants. But, to think that the formula can be replicated overnight to meet the growing demand, seems farcical. It reeks of the same desperate numbers game that saw poor third-rate engineering colleges mushroom in the first place.
It will take years before the new IITs can come up to speed with the rest. Assigning mentor IITs to each of the 6 new IITs is not a solution. Professors, labs, computers, hostels, hell even classrooms aren't ready. Sites for 2 of the IITs are not yet finalised, but soon students may be getting admitted to them.
None of the IIT directors have a say, as they didn't when the controversial quotas were implemented, which in fact, seems to be the sole reason behind this hastiness. The government had an election-manifesto promise of implementing 27% OBC quota in higher institutes of knowledge, and to implement that in the IITs before the coming election early next year, is a way to salvage pride. At what cost? Will the standards associated with the IITs still hold? Or will they be politicised and entrapped in gimmicks too?
As I look back, how many teachers jump to mind that make you feel proud for even being in their presence? How many moments can I recollect from these institutes where I went 'A-ha' because I grasped something magical? How much did we actually learn from this huge investment of our lives, other than the stuff we crammed in from text books just to regurgitate it out on the exam papers? What did we finally earn other than glorious degree certificates, that do not say we know something, but that we made the examiner believe we do? Did we undergo higher education, or was it just "hire" education?
Textbooks - A student's best friend?
Teaching to the book. Sticking to the curriculum. Covering the syllabus in time. These are "mantras" I have seen most teachers in my life follow. My experiences might be too specific; perhaps down to the choice of schools I went to. But, I am in no doubt as to why I learnt nothing at school, but more from the Time-Life series of Illustrated Encyclopedia and the World Book Encyclopedia. The textbooks served up facts in a totally unmotivating fashion, while these other books encouraged you to do experiments and learn for yourself. Isn't that the best way to learn - doing stuff?
Aren't textbooks merely meant to be guides to what a kid needs to learn? Why then do schools stick to only cramming little heads with sequence of words from a textbook, when they don't understand the sentence? Doesn't that show them the trees in the forest, without them knowing they are looking at a forest? And that there are more trees they would never be shown unless they tread forward on their own?
Quantity not quality
One of the problems, especially in higher education, is the fact that the HRD (Human Resources Development) or the Education ministry, needs to show numbers. "A million graduate seats over the country, half a million engineering graduates, fifty thousand engineering post-grads. Ok, that meets the demand. Students are happy, industry is happy." I have personally watched the number of engineering seats, in Maharashtra alone, multiply over the years, as new colleges get immediate sanction and mushroom all over the place. I watched as folks two years senior struggled to get admitted, and again watched a few years later as most who wanted a seat did get one, albeit in remotely accessible, poorly developed institutes.
The colleges that sprout up all over the country, do not all meet the high standards setup by the AICTE, but still get sanction by pressure from politicians that back them. Some of these colleges are blatantly named after politicians or their mentors, and there is nothing left to one's imagination as to why they are still standing. Higher education is good business.
Take my engineering college for example. Facility-wise, it was among the best around. Splendid class rooms, well-equipped labs, and a sparkling building that reminds one of a four-star hotel. When the classes begin, some teachers fumble around calling a "semi-colon" a "semi-comma", while others just leave us in awe, not because they are exemplary, but because they are only a couple of years older than we are. In four years, I can remember maybe two lecturers who stood to gain my respect, and that is poor considering I sat through at least twenty different lecturers.
Notably, the Commission on Growth and Development, in its report on Strategies for Sustained Growth and Development noted as one of the essential "sins" that economies that fail to sustain growth commit - "Measuring educational progress solely by the construction of school infrastructure or higher enrollments, instead of focusing on the extent of learning."
Haste is waste
Of the 20 years of education, I can say without doubt that the culminating final two years were simply the best. I would say that of the 15-odd professors I learnt from, maybe two weren't impressive enough, but you still respected them. The rest, just blow you away with their delivery styles and the grasp of their subjects. You get absorbed into the lectures and you want to solve their assignments because you are enjoying the learning experience. Simply put, even for a Master's graduate, IIT is definitely the best place to be at if you want to study in Homeland. The atmosphere, the culture, the class-mates, the teachers, the facilities are out of this world. And everyone deserves to get that experience before diving into the rat race of the real world.
That said, there is a reason why those institutes are so good today. Pandit Nehru saw a dream once that India would be self-sufficient in science and technology, and nurtured the IIT system as a means to fulfill his dream. It is over the years that IIT has learnt to adapt itself and become an institute of world renown. Today, most of them are self-sufficient and do not depend on huge government grants. But, to think that the formula can be replicated overnight to meet the growing demand, seems farcical. It reeks of the same desperate numbers game that saw poor third-rate engineering colleges mushroom in the first place.
It will take years before the new IITs can come up to speed with the rest. Assigning mentor IITs to each of the 6 new IITs is not a solution. Professors, labs, computers, hostels, hell even classrooms aren't ready. Sites for 2 of the IITs are not yet finalised, but soon students may be getting admitted to them.
None of the IIT directors have a say, as they didn't when the controversial quotas were implemented, which in fact, seems to be the sole reason behind this hastiness. The government had an election-manifesto promise of implementing 27% OBC quota in higher institutes of knowledge, and to implement that in the IITs before the coming election early next year, is a way to salvage pride. At what cost? Will the standards associated with the IITs still hold? Or will they be politicised and entrapped in gimmicks too?
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Everyday is Mother's Day
Greeting card manufacturers, gift franchises, flower shops are all gung-ho again today. Another day where people are forced to buy cards, mugs for the World's greatest mom, and roses just so that they aren't left out. Popular restaurants and getaways will also be on family radars for sons and daughters today. Conveniently placed on a Sunday, Mother's Day is here again. One chance for a Mom to feel special; One chance for the offspring to show they care - no one is missing out.
I have never believed in such occasions. You don't need one day every year to show someone you love them. Leaving it to the one day to do something special is deplorable, and judging someone on their actions on this day is even worse. But, I now realise, that in the race of life, which all of us know underneath is pointless, and the pursuit of something we crave for and will most likely never get, we tend to forget the basic foundations our lives were built on. These days atleast bring us back to them, if only once a year. Today then, is Mother's day.
Mom and her Fan club
All my closest friends, who spent hours at my home watching cricket or playing games in the searing heat of summer or the merciless showers of the monsoon, are big fans of my mum. They'd all call her Aunty and I never saw a shadow of disrespect or any other negative vibes from them for her ever. And why not; mom always looked after them as if they were her own. We would all get hot tea and pakoras in the rain, and cold fresh juices in summer. So often, they would stay back for lunch or dinner even though there was a meal waiting back home. I would feel jealous at times at the attention they got!
Even the grown-ups weren't far behind in reverence, even though they are so much more absorbed in egos and jealousy and all that kids only grow up to learn. The "aunties" were always coming to her with anything - be it some problem in the family (which I could make out due to the sudden hushing of tones), or need for a recipe to please the in-laws, or even sharing gossip (again identified by hushed tones interspersed with loud, obnoxious laughter!). The "uncles" knew that she was very aware of political happenings at dad's workplace and also current news affairs from the papers, and a chat at the front door while mom waited for dad to come home while they waited for the elevator to descend, was always a welcome respite.
The ultimate sponge
I have never known anyone in my few years on earth who has absorbed and learnt so much in her life. She can put up with anything and picks up on even every little thing she can. In the kitchen, where she spends hours everyday making feasts for us, she is 'The Queen'. In her miniature pint-sized kitchens, she cooks up meals I have never managed to get anywhere else. Mughlai, Chettinad, Udipi, Mexican, Sri Lankan, Chinese, Italian - are just a few of the cuisines she has tried, with loads of success.
For years, she was shy of the computer. No, wait; the word is scared. She imagined she would hit a button and it would blow up in smoke! But, when I left home to arrive in Strangeland, mom reached out to the computer to connect back with her son. Starting with emails with punctuation sprayed all over, but well-guided by my brother, she now logs on every morning and has a long chat with me and other relatives she meets online. It's easy to forget, she was born and educated in an age where a computer was a machine that filled a whole room, while I place one on my lap everyday.
Politics, global happenings, astronomy, gastronomy, religion, spirituality, health, economics, languages, are topics she delves into everyday, and she picks up on them whenever she can spare the time from her chores. If you want an opinion, rest assured Mom always has one.
I don't know anyone else who can speak as many languages as her. Gujarati with the Gujju, Marathi with the Marathi, Telugu with the Andhraite, Tamizh with the Tamizhilian. English, Tulu, Kannada, Hindi are other languages she is fluent at, while with Bengali and Malayalam she can fool one to believe she actually does speak them fluently.
Everything I Am
I have learnt to face problems, stand strong, be truthful and honest, hard-working and loyal, from my parents. Whether I am really good at applying everything I have learnt is not for me to judge. Mom has especially taught me compassion and respectfulness, and to never think oneself weak. She may not think much of her achievements in life, but she has no idea how much I have picked up from the way she has fought for everything she believed in. Being a woman in India, especially back then, and living in a patriarchal society, and still doing whatever she has, is no mean feat.
I pity those other kids who do not get attention from their mothers, who are busy in their alternate lives. My throat swells up with fear when I imagine myself in that place. I have always had mom around, and even though it may not be obvious to her, it has always been great to have her around. All my problems would disappear in an instant. They only started stacking up when I grew up and hardly reached out to her. But when I returned, I saw a different side of my mom. I had grown up to be over 20, but she had adapted herself to be a companion to a 20 year old too. Now, how many moms can do that?
She has in fact set such high standards of parenting and caring, that I fear I will absolutely never be able to live up to that, whenever my turn comes. Selflessness and sacrifice are two words I am yet to learn. Hopefully, I will learn that from her too.
Everyday I live, it is Mother's Day and Father's Day, for without them, there is no me.
I have never believed in such occasions. You don't need one day every year to show someone you love them. Leaving it to the one day to do something special is deplorable, and judging someone on their actions on this day is even worse. But, I now realise, that in the race of life, which all of us know underneath is pointless, and the pursuit of something we crave for and will most likely never get, we tend to forget the basic foundations our lives were built on. These days atleast bring us back to them, if only once a year. Today then, is Mother's day.
Mom and her Fan club
All my closest friends, who spent hours at my home watching cricket or playing games in the searing heat of summer or the merciless showers of the monsoon, are big fans of my mum. They'd all call her Aunty and I never saw a shadow of disrespect or any other negative vibes from them for her ever. And why not; mom always looked after them as if they were her own. We would all get hot tea and pakoras in the rain, and cold fresh juices in summer. So often, they would stay back for lunch or dinner even though there was a meal waiting back home. I would feel jealous at times at the attention they got!
Even the grown-ups weren't far behind in reverence, even though they are so much more absorbed in egos and jealousy and all that kids only grow up to learn. The "aunties" were always coming to her with anything - be it some problem in the family (which I could make out due to the sudden hushing of tones), or need for a recipe to please the in-laws, or even sharing gossip (again identified by hushed tones interspersed with loud, obnoxious laughter!). The "uncles" knew that she was very aware of political happenings at dad's workplace and also current news affairs from the papers, and a chat at the front door while mom waited for dad to come home while they waited for the elevator to descend, was always a welcome respite.
The ultimate sponge
I have never known anyone in my few years on earth who has absorbed and learnt so much in her life. She can put up with anything and picks up on even every little thing she can. In the kitchen, where she spends hours everyday making feasts for us, she is 'The Queen'. In her miniature pint-sized kitchens, she cooks up meals I have never managed to get anywhere else. Mughlai, Chettinad, Udipi, Mexican, Sri Lankan, Chinese, Italian - are just a few of the cuisines she has tried, with loads of success.
For years, she was shy of the computer. No, wait; the word is scared. She imagined she would hit a button and it would blow up in smoke! But, when I left home to arrive in Strangeland, mom reached out to the computer to connect back with her son. Starting with emails with punctuation sprayed all over, but well-guided by my brother, she now logs on every morning and has a long chat with me and other relatives she meets online. It's easy to forget, she was born and educated in an age where a computer was a machine that filled a whole room, while I place one on my lap everyday.
Politics, global happenings, astronomy, gastronomy, religion, spirituality, health, economics, languages, are topics she delves into everyday, and she picks up on them whenever she can spare the time from her chores. If you want an opinion, rest assured Mom always has one.
I don't know anyone else who can speak as many languages as her. Gujarati with the Gujju, Marathi with the Marathi, Telugu with the Andhraite, Tamizh with the Tamizhilian. English, Tulu, Kannada, Hindi are other languages she is fluent at, while with Bengali and Malayalam she can fool one to believe she actually does speak them fluently.
Everything I Am
I have learnt to face problems, stand strong, be truthful and honest, hard-working and loyal, from my parents. Whether I am really good at applying everything I have learnt is not for me to judge. Mom has especially taught me compassion and respectfulness, and to never think oneself weak. She may not think much of her achievements in life, but she has no idea how much I have picked up from the way she has fought for everything she believed in. Being a woman in India, especially back then, and living in a patriarchal society, and still doing whatever she has, is no mean feat.
I pity those other kids who do not get attention from their mothers, who are busy in their alternate lives. My throat swells up with fear when I imagine myself in that place. I have always had mom around, and even though it may not be obvious to her, it has always been great to have her around. All my problems would disappear in an instant. They only started stacking up when I grew up and hardly reached out to her. But when I returned, I saw a different side of my mom. I had grown up to be over 20, but she had adapted herself to be a companion to a 20 year old too. Now, how many moms can do that?
She has in fact set such high standards of parenting and caring, that I fear I will absolutely never be able to live up to that, whenever my turn comes. Selflessness and sacrifice are two words I am yet to learn. Hopefully, I will learn that from her too.
Everyday I live, it is Mother's Day and Father's Day, for without them, there is no me.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Free Rice
Just today, I found out about this website, funnily called Free Rice, and intriguingly ventured in to see what all the fuss is about. Pretty soon I realised that although it does present itself as a way to have some fun, the ulterior motives are anything but. It is part of a small movement which not only makes people aware of the problems of World Poverty and the everyday fight for survival the world's poor have to live through, but also tries to do its bit in letting the more gifted countries and average joes like us play a part in helping the ones who can't even aspire to a square meal a day.
Online Ration Shop
If you haven't clicked either of those hyperlinks above yet, I urge you to. Free Rice is a really innovative way they have found to help the hungry in the world get some access to food. It presents a simple website that fires vocabulary questions at you, and donates 10 grains of rice for every correct answer. It is a novel concept where you can help even as you pass time and sharpen your linguistic skills. Right now, it's only in English, but I do hope, given how the poverty problem is a world-wide phenomenon, they do support other languages too. If you are wondering why "only 10 grains" and why "do we need to play to donate", they have answers in the FAQ section. Basically, advertisers get to put their logos up next to the questions, and they in turn do the actual donations through the United Nations World Food Programme.
Hunger As A Shock
When one makes it to the parent website, the index page presents itself as a shock-effect (nothing to do with shockwave!). You should see for yourself. But, the core message is that around 25000 people die each day for want of food, and most of them, expectedly, are kids, who cannot bear the anguish long enough to wait it out for the next meal, whenever that is.
It is pathetic when I realise, I just had a plate full of rice myself. There is no corner in my belly that could hold another grain. But, there are kids out there who just don't have the same liberties. Kids who would eat cooked plain rice just like that if they got some, while I crib at Mom for only making a Daal to go with it, and no sabji. It is even more pathetic to see people waste food, throw it in the bins, eat so much more than they need to. I am always proud my Mom taught me not to waste food since I was little, and she would always give me the example of the little kid who was begging at the railway station, who for all certainty, did not get a full meal that night.
How can ONE make a difference?
We have all heard those stories about little deeds that matter, how the sea is ultimately composed of little drops (boond boond se sagar). But I, for one, have never seen it in common practice. At my college hostel, the flattering government's Human Resource Development department showered excesses on us, so that we would have tons of food present itself every day at our disposal. Hundreds of students would stuff their big plates with food, more than they could ever eat. And obviously, throw away that they couldn't eat. Every one of those plates could have fed another hungry child. When my employer started giving away free food, I saw more of the same again. I have heard all kinds of responses when I tried to rebuke them -
"Man, that food isn't any good. Those kids you are talking about, I am doing a favour so they don't eat this and fall sick."
"You talk about poverty! I myself hail from a far-off village. My parents struggle from meal to meal. I think I would know if not throwing this food away made a difference!"
"How can one person like me make a world of difference for the hungry? If I stop, there are others who still go on relentless."
It is truly ridiculous. And to think, these are once again, comments from the "cream" of the brilliant minds of the nation. It's true - when you don't have the problem, you don't realise its seriousness. The noteworthy thing is, when the food was not free, I never saw the same wastage.
Where Does The Food Go?
From individuals onto nations. Such a large part of the Western world is noted as developed, and none of their denizens (picked that word from the vocab quiz at Free Rice!) have to worry about the problem of hunger. I don't like to say this, but it is a glaring fact. I see the homeless here in Strangeland, and they are out on the streets begging, but mind you, a number of them are, to say it lightly, well-fed. I compare this to the beggars back home, and it is distinctly obvious they are begging so they can quell the burning fires in the pits of their stomachs.
I had taken a course in college on "Globalisation and the Modern World" or something like that. I don't remember the name of the course or much of its contents, which is obvious given my profession, and the fact that we were forced to take the course! But, some ideas from the course stuck. One of them was the problem of hunger.
Poverty.com makes an important statement on its front page which I had learnt in the course too - "there is plenty of food in the world for everyone. The problem is that hungry people are trapped in severe poverty." Isn't that remarkable? Where does all that extra food go? The rich nations have more than enough food for themselves. But, they bargain to make that extra buck when exporting to the poorer nations. So, a lot of the food rots in storage warehouses. Their own citizens get food on the cheap, and the prosperity literally shows.
There is so much diplomatic politics in play at the global level, that I should really leave that for some other time. But, the bottom line is, no one cares enough for the fact that people, even in this day and age, die of hunger.
The Larger Perspective
It is obvious that the richer nations can do their bit to help erase poverty. Poverty.com estimates that $195 billion needs to be allocated every year to eradicate the deaths caused due to hunger. That may seem a big amount, but it really is only a fraction of the GDP of most of these prosperous nations in question. If only they cared enough about humanity, and not about less trivial issues. Oh, wait, the "Fight Against Terror" has to be more important. It frees the world of "bad people", in the words of the famous Strangeland Kid.
International Aid statistics show that while 189 members of the UN promised to dedicate 0.7% of their yearly income toward eradication of poverty and hunger, only 5 have reached the mark so far. Some of the economic superpowers, have been found to be seriously lacking in their contribution. Take Strangeland for instance. They have managed 0.17% so far. Now compare that to their Military budget - a whopping $532.8 billion. And that does not include spending on nuclear research or, even the spending on the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Enough said.
Bottomline again. If only everyone contributed their mere 0.7% share, the world would already be a better place.
I don't claim to be doing anything myself about this. But, I can say for one, atleast I only cook as much as I can eat, and eat everything I cook. I try never to waste my food, in the hope that, the food I saved from wastage, might end up somehow in someone else's plate who needs it more than the garbage bin. Can you do your bit?
Online Ration Shop
If you haven't clicked either of those hyperlinks above yet, I urge you to. Free Rice is a really innovative way they have found to help the hungry in the world get some access to food. It presents a simple website that fires vocabulary questions at you, and donates 10 grains of rice for every correct answer. It is a novel concept where you can help even as you pass time and sharpen your linguistic skills. Right now, it's only in English, but I do hope, given how the poverty problem is a world-wide phenomenon, they do support other languages too. If you are wondering why "only 10 grains" and why "do we need to play to donate", they have answers in the FAQ section. Basically, advertisers get to put their logos up next to the questions, and they in turn do the actual donations through the United Nations World Food Programme.
Hunger As A Shock
When one makes it to the parent website, the index page presents itself as a shock-effect (nothing to do with shockwave!). You should see for yourself. But, the core message is that around 25000 people die each day for want of food, and most of them, expectedly, are kids, who cannot bear the anguish long enough to wait it out for the next meal, whenever that is.
It is pathetic when I realise, I just had a plate full of rice myself. There is no corner in my belly that could hold another grain. But, there are kids out there who just don't have the same liberties. Kids who would eat cooked plain rice just like that if they got some, while I crib at Mom for only making a Daal to go with it, and no sabji. It is even more pathetic to see people waste food, throw it in the bins, eat so much more than they need to. I am always proud my Mom taught me not to waste food since I was little, and she would always give me the example of the little kid who was begging at the railway station, who for all certainty, did not get a full meal that night.
How can ONE make a difference?
We have all heard those stories about little deeds that matter, how the sea is ultimately composed of little drops (boond boond se sagar). But I, for one, have never seen it in common practice. At my college hostel, the flattering government's Human Resource Development department showered excesses on us, so that we would have tons of food present itself every day at our disposal. Hundreds of students would stuff their big plates with food, more than they could ever eat. And obviously, throw away that they couldn't eat. Every one of those plates could have fed another hungry child. When my employer started giving away free food, I saw more of the same again. I have heard all kinds of responses when I tried to rebuke them -
"Man, that food isn't any good. Those kids you are talking about, I am doing a favour so they don't eat this and fall sick."
"You talk about poverty! I myself hail from a far-off village. My parents struggle from meal to meal. I think I would know if not throwing this food away made a difference!"
"How can one person like me make a world of difference for the hungry? If I stop, there are others who still go on relentless."
It is truly ridiculous. And to think, these are once again, comments from the "cream" of the brilliant minds of the nation. It's true - when you don't have the problem, you don't realise its seriousness. The noteworthy thing is, when the food was not free, I never saw the same wastage.
Where Does The Food Go?
From individuals onto nations. Such a large part of the Western world is noted as developed, and none of their denizens (picked that word from the vocab quiz at Free Rice!) have to worry about the problem of hunger. I don't like to say this, but it is a glaring fact. I see the homeless here in Strangeland, and they are out on the streets begging, but mind you, a number of them are, to say it lightly, well-fed. I compare this to the beggars back home, and it is distinctly obvious they are begging so they can quell the burning fires in the pits of their stomachs.
I had taken a course in college on "Globalisation and the Modern World" or something like that. I don't remember the name of the course or much of its contents, which is obvious given my profession, and the fact that we were forced to take the course! But, some ideas from the course stuck. One of them was the problem of hunger.
Poverty.com makes an important statement on its front page which I had learnt in the course too - "there is plenty of food in the world for everyone. The problem is that hungry people are trapped in severe poverty." Isn't that remarkable? Where does all that extra food go? The rich nations have more than enough food for themselves. But, they bargain to make that extra buck when exporting to the poorer nations. So, a lot of the food rots in storage warehouses. Their own citizens get food on the cheap, and the prosperity literally shows.
There is so much diplomatic politics in play at the global level, that I should really leave that for some other time. But, the bottom line is, no one cares enough for the fact that people, even in this day and age, die of hunger.
The Larger Perspective
It is obvious that the richer nations can do their bit to help erase poverty. Poverty.com estimates that $195 billion needs to be allocated every year to eradicate the deaths caused due to hunger. That may seem a big amount, but it really is only a fraction of the GDP of most of these prosperous nations in question. If only they cared enough about humanity, and not about less trivial issues. Oh, wait, the "Fight Against Terror" has to be more important. It frees the world of "bad people", in the words of the famous Strangeland Kid.
International Aid statistics show that while 189 members of the UN promised to dedicate 0.7% of their yearly income toward eradication of poverty and hunger, only 5 have reached the mark so far. Some of the economic superpowers, have been found to be seriously lacking in their contribution. Take Strangeland for instance. They have managed 0.17% so far. Now compare that to their Military budget - a whopping $532.8 billion. And that does not include spending on nuclear research or, even the spending on the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Enough said.
Bottomline again. If only everyone contributed their mere 0.7% share, the world would already be a better place.
I don't claim to be doing anything myself about this. But, I can say for one, atleast I only cook as much as I can eat, and eat everything I cook. I try never to waste my food, in the hope that, the food I saved from wastage, might end up somehow in someone else's plate who needs it more than the garbage bin. Can you do your bit?
Saturday, October 06, 2007
Where Am I?
That was my first reaction when I first heard what was going on right outside my front door - to ask myself where I am. Because this isn't a scene I have witnessed before. I was chatting with my buddy Ashwin, and it was 1am at night here in Austin, and he was surprised when I asked him too - Where Am I? Call me naive, but I have never heard this kinda talk in my life before.
The Conversation
Girl A : Yayyy...here comes the birthday girl! And here is her birthday boy, her birthday gift.
Girl B : This is a birthday party? Awww..you should have told me. I just got a fresh stash yesterday. We could have smoked some pot tonight. Hey, have you done it before?
Birthday Girl : Nope.
Girl B : Aww...my friend here..what's your name?..
Birthday Girl : Gina.
Girl B : Yeah, Gina, here has never done it before people. Do we still have time?
Boy C : Heyyyy..is that Cigga-weed?... Ha? ...Ha? How come you are doing it alone. Come on give me some.
Girl B : C'mon Gina. Give it a shot. It's just marijuana. It's clinically approved.
Loud cheers sound out.
What is so weird?
Well, I have never had friends that indulge in such acts. Never. Neither have I ever been in the neighbourhood of such activities all my life. No wonder then that this incident, happening right outside my door, late at night, with some of the people that poured out of the loud, obnoxious party next door, gave me a little shock.
Except at work and at the stores, I hardly interact with StrangeLandians here. Atleast, most of my friendly chats are limited to Indians, and that made me feel I am still in India, to some extent. But, this kinda jolted me back to reality. It's hard to escape this here in StrangeLand, no matter where you live, what with the "fresh stash" apparently available freely.
Is India clean?
With all the overnight prosperity HomeLand is seeing, with bloated salaries and extravagant lifestyles, which is only true of the urban classes, how far can we be from this way of life? A life where your only intention is to live happily, with no consideration to morals and with no attachment to one's culture that parents try hard to inculcate. "What I like, is what I shall do."
With both parents increasingly deciding to take up full-time jobs to support the family's lavish needs, kids are thrust relatively early into life on their own, with no protection whatsoever of the parent's guiding words to keep them away from vices. I have lived in Pune, and witnessed how a mass of young students and highly-paid young professionals exploit their new-found freedom. Exposed to the western way of life on TV, chat shows, tabloids, gloss magazines, movies, they are beginning to discover what they are missing out on, in life. The old adage, "You only have one life" is beaten to death to explain all the vices one will indulge into.
I have encountered people who acknowledge, very openly, that they are into smoking gaanja, or marijuana, right there in Pune. I have heard them talk about finding their way through the police bandobast to get their hands on some "maal" for the weekend. They are even known to make the cigga-weed mentioned above and present it as a cigarette to unsuspecting friends, to help them grow their circle; you know, increase the demand, so that the supply chain stays strong.
Not too long ago, a rave party was organised in the outskirts of Pune, apparently by a drug-dealer, and it lured over 250 youngsters from Mumbai and Pune, all having cash and the will to have a good time. They were rounded up by the cops, and a few kilograms of stuff, a large stack of alcohol, and a couple hundred condoms, were recovered from the site. The worst aspect of this was that a large number of them were under 18. And, where were all the logistics finalised and people invited? The friendly neighbourhood social community - Orkut. No, we aren't too far behind in HomeLand ourselves.
Ok, now Where Am I Going?
I have no right to comment on what people do, and what they shouldn't. But, if there are laws against some activities, and are widely approved, I believe they were meant to maintain order. And to provide security to the innocent little kids who can be dragged into this way of life, especially when there is a parent who isn't keeping tabs on their offspring. Freedom and having fun, is very good. One empowers you and prepares you for the life ahead, and the other, gives life a certain refreshment to keep you chugging along.
But, there is only one end to all this. A shorter life. Losing touch with life itself, and ending up disillusioned about its purpose. Losing your parents, your family, and ending up with friends that do fill up your holes enough, but are only around as long as you are like them - high.
I am worried, and only because I have now seen with my own eyes how HomeLand is transforming. With all the good that is happening in the country, slowly sneaking up, unnoticed or ignored, behind all the limelight, is this evil, the unmistakable side-effect of growing prosperity. I fear for whether my country will end up being exactly what I hate about StrangeLand. I fear we are too quickly replacing thousands of years of heritage with the brash attitudes of the West, instead of letting the natural confluence of the cultures happen to bring out the best in them. Is HomeLand growing too fast for its own good?
The Conversation
Girl A : Yayyy...here comes the birthday girl! And here is her birthday boy, her birthday gift.
Girl B : This is a birthday party? Awww..you should have told me. I just got a fresh stash yesterday. We could have smoked some pot tonight. Hey, have you done it before?
Birthday Girl : Nope.
Girl B : Aww...my friend here..what's your name?..
Birthday Girl : Gina.
Girl B : Yeah, Gina, here has never done it before people. Do we still have time?
Boy C : Heyyyy..is that Cigga-weed?... Ha? ...Ha? How come you are doing it alone. Come on give me some.
Girl B : C'mon Gina. Give it a shot. It's just marijuana. It's clinically approved.
Loud cheers sound out.
What is so weird?
Well, I have never had friends that indulge in such acts. Never. Neither have I ever been in the neighbourhood of such activities all my life. No wonder then that this incident, happening right outside my door, late at night, with some of the people that poured out of the loud, obnoxious party next door, gave me a little shock.
Except at work and at the stores, I hardly interact with StrangeLandians here. Atleast, most of my friendly chats are limited to Indians, and that made me feel I am still in India, to some extent. But, this kinda jolted me back to reality. It's hard to escape this here in StrangeLand, no matter where you live, what with the "fresh stash" apparently available freely.
Is India clean?
With all the overnight prosperity HomeLand is seeing, with bloated salaries and extravagant lifestyles, which is only true of the urban classes, how far can we be from this way of life? A life where your only intention is to live happily, with no consideration to morals and with no attachment to one's culture that parents try hard to inculcate. "What I like, is what I shall do."
With both parents increasingly deciding to take up full-time jobs to support the family's lavish needs, kids are thrust relatively early into life on their own, with no protection whatsoever of the parent's guiding words to keep them away from vices. I have lived in Pune, and witnessed how a mass of young students and highly-paid young professionals exploit their new-found freedom. Exposed to the western way of life on TV, chat shows, tabloids, gloss magazines, movies, they are beginning to discover what they are missing out on, in life. The old adage, "You only have one life" is beaten to death to explain all the vices one will indulge into.
I have encountered people who acknowledge, very openly, that they are into smoking gaanja, or marijuana, right there in Pune. I have heard them talk about finding their way through the police bandobast to get their hands on some "maal" for the weekend. They are even known to make the cigga-weed mentioned above and present it as a cigarette to unsuspecting friends, to help them grow their circle; you know, increase the demand, so that the supply chain stays strong.
Not too long ago, a rave party was organised in the outskirts of Pune, apparently by a drug-dealer, and it lured over 250 youngsters from Mumbai and Pune, all having cash and the will to have a good time. They were rounded up by the cops, and a few kilograms of stuff, a large stack of alcohol, and a couple hundred condoms, were recovered from the site. The worst aspect of this was that a large number of them were under 18. And, where were all the logistics finalised and people invited? The friendly neighbourhood social community - Orkut. No, we aren't too far behind in HomeLand ourselves.
Ok, now Where Am I Going?
I have no right to comment on what people do, and what they shouldn't. But, if there are laws against some activities, and are widely approved, I believe they were meant to maintain order. And to provide security to the innocent little kids who can be dragged into this way of life, especially when there is a parent who isn't keeping tabs on their offspring. Freedom and having fun, is very good. One empowers you and prepares you for the life ahead, and the other, gives life a certain refreshment to keep you chugging along.
But, there is only one end to all this. A shorter life. Losing touch with life itself, and ending up disillusioned about its purpose. Losing your parents, your family, and ending up with friends that do fill up your holes enough, but are only around as long as you are like them - high.
I am worried, and only because I have now seen with my own eyes how HomeLand is transforming. With all the good that is happening in the country, slowly sneaking up, unnoticed or ignored, behind all the limelight, is this evil, the unmistakable side-effect of growing prosperity. I fear for whether my country will end up being exactly what I hate about StrangeLand. I fear we are too quickly replacing thousands of years of heritage with the brash attitudes of the West, instead of letting the natural confluence of the cultures happen to bring out the best in them. Is HomeLand growing too fast for its own good?
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Expression or Repression?
The other day I was reading about another (yet another, really) public outcry in the Islamic nations against a cartoon depicting Prophet Mohammad. Another cartoonist, who either doesn't understand the religious sentiments that are tied to this act of depicting the Prophet pictorially, or doesn't think that anything is beyond his freedom of expression, has "blasphemed". He was so ignorant, that he went to the extent of using a dog's body to describe the Prophet. Free press? A few people laughing? To be frank, I miss the point really. Especially, when there will be a few readers laughing, but a lot more boiling over.
Free Press in the West
The Western world really give utmost importance to the word "Freedom". I don't know how many of them really understand what it means, but they demand it anyway. Honestly, I believe that you don't know what freedom is, until someone has taken it away from you, be-shackled you. What proportion of the Western world can claim to have been there, I am not certain. The press especially though, lives and breathes on this one word. Why not? It gives them the right to conjure up radical images that people want to see, to stir up controversies that no one cares for but everyone wants to read about. It's all about the money, honey. Even something as inspiring and thought provoking as the press, can get its hands down and dirty just to sell a few more copies.
I am not saying the actions of the press are always bad. Their desperate search for a sizzler, so often does make them open a cupboard and have skeletons fall out - skull, bones and dental remains in tow. Politicians are exposed, cruelties come to light, and so often, justice is delivered. But, that of course, cannot always be true. So, just conjuring up something that sells, seems to be the mantra.
Press In India
When I was at school, we would learn in history about the freedom struggle, and how India attained independence from the British. In those days, the press was an astonishingly great force in the way it spread the message of the leaders of the movement for the nation's citizens to stand up as one against the oppression. Readers would come to know about how the incumbent British would try to squash every uprising, the atrocities doled out, the ideas and thoughts of the great leaders who were leading the movement against the East India Company, and they would be provoked into action themselves. It was the single-most largest non-violent movement for freedom the world has ever seen, and the press had a large role in putting that together.
After independence, the press was still respected to a great extent, as it mirrored the progress of a developing young nation that India was. Bringing forth the rapid changes that the nation was undergoing, to the eyes of the avid reader. But, I, having been reading the newspaper since I was a kid, have seen a huge transformation in the mass media. The papers I started out with were really huge spread-outs with a fresh scent that can only come from a fresh newspaper. The really important news could always be found on the front page, and I would quickly scroll through the politics to get to the last 2 pages - my favourite sports pages. I would turn on the television at 8pm to get this lady with a single rose in her tresses and absurdly loud make-up read out the news to the whole nation, and wrap it up in 20 minutes. That was the dose for the whole day, and on the only channel we had back then!
Whoosh forward to the present day. We have more than 20 national news broadcasters on tv, that dish out news 24 hours a day. The newspaper has bloated into a thicker ream, but smaller in size, and more like a tabloid. It has as many pages dedicated to real nonsense grapevine crap, as to the rest of the news I am used to reading since I was little, and still manage a fistful for classifieds and advertisements. News on the front pages reads - "Superstar walks out of jail on bail", "It's official: Rushdie, Padma to divorce", "Sachin: Caught bad luck, bowled Taufel" and "Munnabhai goes to Gandhi's jail". The sports section is now 4 pages long at least, but 3 of those are dedicated to cricket (non-olympic sport, really just a pastime). Occasionally, we see one Sania Mirza glitz one of the articles. And there is a football section which has news which reads like - "Henry divorces wife and Arsenal", "Ashley gifts Bentley to girlfriend".
News that you can use?
I can now blitz through a newspaper in 10 minutes, because nothing catches my eye. Oh, except for the skimpily clad page 3 damsels of course. I missed them as a kid! Even the televised media isn't too far behind. But, who can blame them? They gotto run all day, everyday, and still get viewers hooked. What do they resort to? I like to liken what they do with what a computer geek does when he/she cant crack a software, or break into a website, or solve a problem in a straighforward way. He/she will "hack" in by any means possible - legal or illegal.
The news reporters seem to do that too now. The latest fad is the "Tehelka" way - hidden cameras and setups to corner unsuspecting victims to divulge vital incarcerating information. Political criminals have been uncovered. The casting couch in the film industry became a matter of public discussion. Saffron-garbed sadhus masquerading as social heroes were unmasked and their exploitation of children and women was exposed. So far, so good.
Now, it seems even this has taken a wild and desperate turn with so many news channels competing for the viewer's roving hand on the remote control. A teacher in Delhi was victimised and somehow revealed as a pimp who brokered kids into prostitution. She was beaten up by parents and sent off to prison for 10 days, before it came to light that there was absolutely no evidence, and that this may just be a sham by the "reporter" - a profound setup.
Bring back my newspaper
I just hope the Indian media doesn't go completely the way of the media in the West. Too often, the British media, for instance, is accused of being "star-struck" and following celebrities around. The news coverage in the US is so biased, that it can never be digested by anyone who ventures in from outside the country. Paparazzis abound in the West. Yet, the freedom of expression does ensure everyone has a voice, and that it can be heard out loud to everyone who wants to hear.
But, shouldn't there be limits to everything? Isn't there something which is off-limits? The Prophet Mohammad for instance. Or Hillary Clinton's low blouse during a speech. I just want my clean old newspaper back. Don't let it be this "one fix for all" thing that delivers news, gossip, and crap all in one single place. Oh and titillaton too for those who need that from their morning newspaper.
I go home to Chennai and find The Hindu on the couch in the morning, and it takes me back to the old days. That's how a newspaper ought to be. Everything has its place. Freedom is only good, when enjoyed by everyone.
Free Press in the West
The Western world really give utmost importance to the word "Freedom". I don't know how many of them really understand what it means, but they demand it anyway. Honestly, I believe that you don't know what freedom is, until someone has taken it away from you, be-shackled you. What proportion of the Western world can claim to have been there, I am not certain. The press especially though, lives and breathes on this one word. Why not? It gives them the right to conjure up radical images that people want to see, to stir up controversies that no one cares for but everyone wants to read about. It's all about the money, honey. Even something as inspiring and thought provoking as the press, can get its hands down and dirty just to sell a few more copies.
I am not saying the actions of the press are always bad. Their desperate search for a sizzler, so often does make them open a cupboard and have skeletons fall out - skull, bones and dental remains in tow. Politicians are exposed, cruelties come to light, and so often, justice is delivered. But, that of course, cannot always be true. So, just conjuring up something that sells, seems to be the mantra.
Press In India
When I was at school, we would learn in history about the freedom struggle, and how India attained independence from the British. In those days, the press was an astonishingly great force in the way it spread the message of the leaders of the movement for the nation's citizens to stand up as one against the oppression. Readers would come to know about how the incumbent British would try to squash every uprising, the atrocities doled out, the ideas and thoughts of the great leaders who were leading the movement against the East India Company, and they would be provoked into action themselves. It was the single-most largest non-violent movement for freedom the world has ever seen, and the press had a large role in putting that together.
After independence, the press was still respected to a great extent, as it mirrored the progress of a developing young nation that India was. Bringing forth the rapid changes that the nation was undergoing, to the eyes of the avid reader. But, I, having been reading the newspaper since I was a kid, have seen a huge transformation in the mass media. The papers I started out with were really huge spread-outs with a fresh scent that can only come from a fresh newspaper. The really important news could always be found on the front page, and I would quickly scroll through the politics to get to the last 2 pages - my favourite sports pages. I would turn on the television at 8pm to get this lady with a single rose in her tresses and absurdly loud make-up read out the news to the whole nation, and wrap it up in 20 minutes. That was the dose for the whole day, and on the only channel we had back then!
Whoosh forward to the present day. We have more than 20 national news broadcasters on tv, that dish out news 24 hours a day. The newspaper has bloated into a thicker ream, but smaller in size, and more like a tabloid. It has as many pages dedicated to real nonsense grapevine crap, as to the rest of the news I am used to reading since I was little, and still manage a fistful for classifieds and advertisements. News on the front pages reads - "Superstar walks out of jail on bail", "It's official: Rushdie, Padma to divorce", "Sachin: Caught bad luck, bowled Taufel" and "Munnabhai goes to Gandhi's jail". The sports section is now 4 pages long at least, but 3 of those are dedicated to cricket (non-olympic sport, really just a pastime). Occasionally, we see one Sania Mirza glitz one of the articles. And there is a football section which has news which reads like - "Henry divorces wife and Arsenal", "Ashley gifts Bentley to girlfriend".
News that you can use?
I can now blitz through a newspaper in 10 minutes, because nothing catches my eye. Oh, except for the skimpily clad page 3 damsels of course. I missed them as a kid! Even the televised media isn't too far behind. But, who can blame them? They gotto run all day, everyday, and still get viewers hooked. What do they resort to? I like to liken what they do with what a computer geek does when he/she cant crack a software, or break into a website, or solve a problem in a straighforward way. He/she will "hack" in by any means possible - legal or illegal.
The news reporters seem to do that too now. The latest fad is the "Tehelka" way - hidden cameras and setups to corner unsuspecting victims to divulge vital incarcerating information. Political criminals have been uncovered. The casting couch in the film industry became a matter of public discussion. Saffron-garbed sadhus masquerading as social heroes were unmasked and their exploitation of children and women was exposed. So far, so good.
Now, it seems even this has taken a wild and desperate turn with so many news channels competing for the viewer's roving hand on the remote control. A teacher in Delhi was victimised and somehow revealed as a pimp who brokered kids into prostitution. She was beaten up by parents and sent off to prison for 10 days, before it came to light that there was absolutely no evidence, and that this may just be a sham by the "reporter" - a profound setup.
Bring back my newspaper
I just hope the Indian media doesn't go completely the way of the media in the West. Too often, the British media, for instance, is accused of being "star-struck" and following celebrities around. The news coverage in the US is so biased, that it can never be digested by anyone who ventures in from outside the country. Paparazzis abound in the West. Yet, the freedom of expression does ensure everyone has a voice, and that it can be heard out loud to everyone who wants to hear.
But, shouldn't there be limits to everything? Isn't there something which is off-limits? The Prophet Mohammad for instance. Or Hillary Clinton's low blouse during a speech. I just want my clean old newspaper back. Don't let it be this "one fix for all" thing that delivers news, gossip, and crap all in one single place. Oh and titillaton too for those who need that from their morning newspaper.
I go home to Chennai and find The Hindu on the couch in the morning, and it takes me back to the old days. That's how a newspaper ought to be. Everything has its place. Freedom is only good, when enjoyed by everyone.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)