BOMBay!

First there was the deluge which caused not just the city to flood, but also the BMCs glib assurances of an efficient monsoon disaster management system; then came the Shiv Sena riots that held the city to a ransom – all over a defaced statue. And just as the Mumbaiite heaved a sigh in relief, believing that the worst was over, he was rudely jolted to witness that it had only all just begun!

The terror train attacks on 7/11 are a shocking reminder of just how easy a target we are, as a city, to the self-professed prophets of doom, as these zealots unleash a systemic destruction into the lives of hapless innocents; and all of this in their madness to seek vindication for a cause, the achieving of which they deem any approach fiendishly and mercilessly just!

The attacks have definitely taken a toll on the lives of the people of this beautiful city, but not so much as a even a dent has been caused on the mettle of its inherent spirit!

Much as I am aware that enough ink and soundbytes have been spent in saluting the nature of this famed resilience of the Megapolis, and equal amounts of the same in askance of cutting down the hype around this halo, I am tempted to offer my own take on the subject:

I believe that clichéd and beaten to the bone as all these acclamations sound, somewhere in them these clichés bind and extorts only the best in this city. Because in these, people find for themselves an identity; an identity they want to identify with and are therefore willing to go lengths to live it. It gives them hope and brings them an unparalleled sense of pride and belonging to this city which continues to give them emotional, economic and social support. A sort of self-fulfilling prophesy, if you please.

…agreed that more often than not, the ‘down-but-not-out’ and the resilient streak of the people of Mumbai stem more from a lack of available economic options to the common man than out of sheer love for the ideology it, but paradoxically then again, isn’t this trait in itself quintessentially representative of the spirit of Mumbai? That of the arrogant ability to take-on life as it comes by making the most of what is presently available, or for that matter, the ability of propelling oneself into magnetic lure of undertaking high risks today for big ticket returns of tomorrow. Quite surprisingly, and the history of this city has stood testimony to this fact, the risks more often than not handsomely pay off!!!

Eulogies like ‘The city of dreams’ and ‘Bindaaz Bambaiyya’, after all, weren’t coined in for nothing.

All these, however, hold no excuse, for the powers that run this city and the country at large, to hold back from their responsibilities in providing this city the infrastructure and security it truly deserves. After all aren’t we the highest tax-paying city in this country?

Saluting the spirit of Mumbai and singing paeans of the steely courage displayed by Mumbaiites is all fine, but it’s time the officials got their act in order and gave this city its (over)due. We’re fortunate than most other cities, in this country, to have a socially conscientious and alert citizenry that more than willingly does all to keep this city going, but let’s not push it. There is only so much one can do as a city in the absence of support patronage and funding from the state.

In the absence of a central leadership and an effective local disaster management plan, this city uncomfortably sits atop a fuming terror volcano that waits to erupt and consume everyone. Now if only the State and the Centre took time out from planning myriad ways of widening the tax base, shutting down dance bars and building a consensus over reservations, to listen and act proactively…

Meanwhile, here is a very thought provoking email from one of the Editors in TOI...well worth a pondersome read...


Dear all,

Today's Mid-Day edit (July 8th 2006) begins by saying that you don't need to be a rocket scientist to understand that the chain of events starting from the Bhiwandi riots to the desecration of Meenatai's statue and what happened as an aftermath, to the serial blasts on the trains yesterday, means somebody somewhere wants Mumbaikar's to spill out on the streets and grab each other by the throats.

Incidentally, these same somebody-- the faceless outcasts that they still are-- have at least succeeded in one part of their plan. Mumbaikars have actually spilled out on to the streets.

The catch here is that they have failed to succeed in the second and most important part of their plan: that of getting Mumbaikars to grab each other by the throats. Mumbaikars spilled onto the streets-- in a collective show of the middle finger to those who proposed otherwise.

I know very well that you are already aware of how Mumbai stormed onto the streets to help the injured, the stranded and soothe the injuries that were still gaping along its life line.
There were capsules and capsules of streaming video that showed them offering water and refreshments to people stranded on SV Road and the Eastern and Western Express Highways.

There were captures of students of Sydenham and SNDT college, who camped at Churchgate station with the sole purpose of offering a bed to those stranded at the starting node of the life line.

And there was also that memorable grab of people standing patiently in front of KEM Hospital-- all in a serpentine queue, to donate blood. A result of which has been a no-shortage syndrome, when it comes to blood at all the hospitals where the injured are being treated or are recuperating.

But this is not about all that. And yet, it is about all that and more. It is about the sights I saw and the people I met with, while travelling along the Western Express Highway to Kandivali yesterday, between 7 in the evening and one in the morning.

It is about that little kid and his grandfather near Dadar, who, perhaps in the absence of anybody else in the household, took to the streets with bottles of water and packets of biscuits to contribute in whatever way possible in managing the crisis. "Uncle, you must be thirsty," the kid told me while offering the bottle. A parched me drank gratefully. And I saw in those eyes no fear. So what did those terrorists think while planting the bomb? That was at least the silent way of making one statement-- "Terror, my foot.!"

It is also about those housewives in front of a housing society near Santa Cruz, who were standing with pots of piping tea, water and God only knows what else to help those passing by. And they had this board beside them which read "Beyond Borivli, Can Stay'. I was lucky to get a cab, but there were people who were trying to make it on foot. And they needed succor. Rest. Shelter. It was raining.

It is about the autorickshaw driver, who finally reached me home in the interiors of Kandivali at 1 in the morning. And refused to take the night fare, despite being legally empowered to charge extra. "Nehi saab, aaj ki baat alag hai. Aap thik thak ghar pohuj gaye, yeh hi kafi hai," he bade me goodbye at my doorstep.

It is also about the dabbawala who provides me with my dinner everyday. His shop is near the Borivli station, where there was one of the biggest blasts at 6:34 in the evening. Yet, at one o clock in the morning, the dabba was there waiting at my doorstp to be picked up. It didn't need a note. The piping hot food at such an unearthly hour said it all.

The terrorists succeeded in synchronising a series of blasts that stopped the Mumbai lifeline for somewhere around seven hours. That was all that they achieved on 7/11. The trains were back on track by 1:30 in the morning and they plied all through the night. I wonder if the masterminds will consider this before planning their next attack. I would urge them to-- if this reaches any one of them-- to rethink. After all, what did a year of planning, six months of smuggling dangerous explosives, extensive netwroking and crores achieve at the end-- arond 200 lives and just seven hours of disruption? Bas! I won't budge for that. In the deal they united more than they dreamt to rip apart.

And by the way, I did not spot any member of the celebrated Readers' Digest survey team yesterday on the roads. Or perhaps they were there-- reconsidering their statement.

Deputy Editor-Medianet,

Times of India, Mumbai.


Celebrating the Spirit of Mumbai...Proud to be a Mumbaiite!
-- Sudip Ghosh

Code of Conundrums...

If there ever was a letter I've recieved that made me uncannily feel as if I had ghost-written it, then this'd have to be it!

The questions posed herein, and the ensuing residue of harboured emotion, as a fall-out of a cold, 'coming-to-grips-with-the-situation' kind of rationale, almost instantly strike a chord with the reader, bringing to fore memories of a time(s) we've all periodically battled, lonely for the most part, in the course of our respective journeys through life this far...

It takes one, reading a letter like this, to realise that, much as they make for strange bed fellows, the pleasure of growth has to be accompanied by the discomfiture pain, and so the twain shalst remain till death do them apart!

My very own journey this far, has made me the wiser in having taught me this, that there is no one solution to unravel the dichotomy of this dual code. Each must, in his own way and on his own terms decipher and unravel it to make sense and give meaning to their own perception of the world they inhabit.

...And whilst at it, I am reminded of something I read a long time ago in an editorial and wish to share with you:

The very observation of a phenomena, changes the nature of it.
By our constant quest into the nature of ourselves and of the workings of this universe,we may be changing not only that which we seek to investigate, but also our very perceptions, which are the instruments of that investigation.

Perhaps, this is the final insoluble mystery of the Cosmos; that when we have come to the end of all our explorations of it, we will find that we have only begun with the odyssey of our own self-discovery.

Read on then...


Dear Trev,

Loss hits you suddenly without warning or indication that today you are going to wake up to it. You suddenly realize that your warm security blanket,taken for granted for ever so long,has been ripped away leaving your battered soul naked and shivering cold.

There is first a terrifying numbness and then it hits you...HARD. With the final acceptance comes despair beyond words. You wonder how the sun can shine, how the world can actually go on, how people can smile and laugh and talk while you wade through torrents of endless grief.

Sometimes, if only for a minute,you may forget it all and the clouds lift a little. You look up to feel the warmth and instead are hit by a cold realization that things will never been the same again. Things that once seemed so complex, so important, so necessary fade away into nothingness. All you want perhaps, is for time to turn-to take back hurtful words, to prolong savoured memories or merely to remember better.

I don’t think it ever stops hurting. Every person who enters your life creates a world in you...a world that you never knew existed till they came into your life. And then they leave!!!

But, somehow perhaps it’s better that it happens that way. It aches, horribly at first, but then if you could not know it, feel it...you would also not have the bitter-sweetness of tenacious memory.

…Going through those not infrequent bouts of melanchony at the moment…

You know, I’m tired of being me. Honestly, I am becoming a person I don’t like too much. Morose, withdrawn and weepy…happiness and laughter used to come so easily to me...and I am angry with myself for letting go of it. I stand in the crowd and watch joy dance across peoples faces...and I’m silently screaming with the sheer agony of emotional loneliness…

Why do people change...why did I have to change? How do you mourn the dying of a dream? A dream that dies just a little more every day? You look around trying to grasp battered hope, letting go of everything else and you are left with nothing but emptiness...

Your emotions evolve and change shape, undergoing as if a sort of retrogressive maturity. I wrap myself up in this little cocoon of self pity choosing to ignore the world outside and I realize what an absolute fool I am making of myself.

Unfortunately knowledge is not always a predecessor of wisdom. What makes is worse is the realization that I made my own bed...made wrong choices...now it’s a little too late. Yes I know that you’re thinking – I’m over reacting and being paranoid. Maybe I am! But I can't help it; feel like I have been thrust into this frighteningly large,complex adult world without having gained the maturity I need to deal with it.

Fear…real and imaginary…seeps into my soul as my life changes form before my very eyes.. Thank you for putting up with me and my eccentricity...I know it must be an awfully trying task.

Love,

...


I'll just say this, my dear friend, that the things you love, will eventually gather around you like a shawl against the winterliness of this world, protect you and warm you, ushering you into the spring time of your days. And this will be your key to unlock that puzzling code of life.

That's the story of life!

TalibArmageddon!

I am simply enraged at the slaying in so mercilessly a manner of Suryanarayanan, the 41 year old telecom engineer from Hyderabad, by the Taliban in Afghanistan.

Assuming for once – by the largest stretch of imagination – that the Taliban are fighting a just cause in the name of Jehad, I’d like to really ask of them if they really believed that their actions would lead them up the path to a world order they’d be in control of. A dream they possibly envision for the future.

Frightfully, at times, I think that might not br too far-fetched after all! And here's why.

Now, we all know that 9/11 should never really have happened and lent our hearts out to those thousands of innocents who lost their lives in the worst act of terrorism that this world has ever seen. However we also strongly condemned the reckless bombing of Afghanistan by the US in a reaction which the world saw as predominantly an impulsive US led struggle for vindication, the bloody outcome of which was there for all to see. There simply was no justification in the adage’ an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,’ cried angry protesters across the globe; human life mattered over all else irrespective of the divisive nature of geo-politics at play by the powers-that-were. And I quite agreed!

What worries me now is this – that if these terror attacks are to continue and intensify in their brutality as in the case of Muthuppan and now Suryanarayana then soon, very soon, the numbers in this camp will see a downward spiral, indicative of the switch in stand of these pro-life contenders.

Patience, they would claim can only be tested this much. Laws will then be re-written to ensure justice at any cost – even if that meant at the price of hapless innocent victims. And sooner than later we would haplessly witness an upsurge in extremist reactions from the masses that would increasingly be difficult to contain; each believing that he had to fight a jehad of his own by rationalizing that if they came for his neighbour today, tomorrow they would very well come for him. After all better safe than sorry!

America today is already fuelled by this ideology; Iraq and now more recently Iran being case in point. The plot seems to only thicken leading to a point of no return…the question being – would we all then not be guilty of embracing the very jehadi culture to ratify our pursuit for justice in a show of strength and one-upmanship???

Either which way then the jehadi dream stands ground for being realized, this way or that!

...morbid thinking...well, maybe. But valid thoughts all the same! Think about it...

Bollywood calling...

‘Beauty with a purpose,’ we’ve all heard that one before; and Bollywood - that’s how purported it would ever get. But ‘Celebrity with a purpose,’ now that’s a first. And Mama Mia what a purpose this one has turned out to be! One that has the government and the nation sit up and take notice overnight.

It’s been almost close to a decade now that the Narmada Bachao Aandolan (NBA) has been in existence. Countless peaceful protests, rallies and fasts later the issue continued to course its way through a rocky terrain of apathy and hopelessness. Like a mannequin in a window display prompting customers to come and buy, the issue was seen in every possible light by all but heard by none. There simply was just no buy-in from the government.

Tirelessly and with unflinching dedication team Medha Patkar put up a tough fight in realizing their cause – that of rehabilitation of the project affected farmers due to the increased height of the dam. And YET all their pleas fell on deaf ears and their efforts, like pollen, scattered by the wind of inaction onto unyielding barren land.

And then one day, just when about almost everybody had begun to accept the status-quo on the issues that were, something changed.

The issue was the same, but this time around there had been an addition to the numbers of those that had until now supported it vociferously. Support came from entirely unexpected quarters - a Bollywood superstar! Needless to say, things haven’t quite been the same again with the NBA.

With Aamir Khan lending his name to the NBA, the issue has now suddenly become the cynosure of national attention. Not surprisingly it has found its way back to making headlines on page one of the national dailies.

To say that Aamir has brought back the spotlight squarely on brass-tacks of the issue, would be to undermine the efforts of Medha Patkar. Medha Patkar is an essential and inseparable part of the NBA. A fine example she is of character and purpose in relentlessly pursuing this cause. But the fact remains that star-power outshines the brilliance of character and the steadfastness of purpose radiated by socially-conscious individuals who’re out to make a difference. In deciding to throw his lot-in with those championing the NBA struggle, Aamir has unequivocally pledged to seek answers from the powers that be, in his right as a citizen of India first and a star only later. Eulogized as a well-read ‘thinking-actor,’ candid yet media shy and doggedly possessive about his personal life, he has steered clear of controversies even given his forthright manner of speech; traits that give him instantaneous credibility and buy-in, especially whilst espousing the NBA cause.

Much as I believe that this is no cheap publicity generating gimmick (as some have critiquingly insinuated) on Aamir’s part – an actor of his caliber and showing doesn’t need to stoop to such levels, it’s a telling observation however, that in today’s times it’s not about the issue, rather it’s about who is espousing it that could make all the difference. And that is why an actor of the status of Aamir Khan lending his name to the NBA means so much to those campaigning for it. The fame, public affection and recognition afforded to these personalities make each of them powerful beyond reason in ways even they themselves can ever fathom. And it is this power that speaks when the personality behind it decides to champion a cause; a power with a voice so powerful that one cannot but sit alert and take note of what is being said as is now happening with the NBA and as did happen with the passage of the 1993 ‘Oprah Bill’ into law on the National Child Protection Act, initiated by Oprah Winfrey.

What matters here is not just the final outcome but also the decisions that led to it, for it is these that would eventually ratify its unanimous acceptance or widespread rejection.

…which brings me to state that each of us have the power to make a difference but what differentiates us is the way we echo that power. With celebrities, it’s a trifle more easy as the echo gets sounded over a wider latitude and a million times louder. And therein lies the magic of stardom – that of having the power to alter accepted mindsets and mould opinions by playing God in creating that which seems unthinkable.

Here’s then to Aamir. Kudos to him for picking up the gauntlet. May his tribe increase!!!

Streams in the Desert

They tell me I must bruise
The rose's leaf,
Ere I can keep and use
Its fragrance brief.

They tell me I must break
The skylark's heart,
Ere her cage song will make
The silence start.

They tell me love must bleed,
And friendship weep,
Ere in my deepest need
I touch that deep.

And I ask, must it always be so
With precious things?
Must they always be bruised and go
With beaten wings?


"Ahh, yes boy! by crushing days,
By caging nights, by scar
Of thorn and stony ways,"
Life tells me, "these blessings are!"


"The mark of rank in nature
is capacity for pain;
And the anguish of the singer
Makes for the sweetest symphony strain."


Farewell Chennai. Mumbai here I come for good~!

Odyssey...

Finally, it's that time of the year again - a time most eagerly awaited and yet a time of uneasy trepidition of what the future holds in store.

Temperatures may have dropped to cause a chill in the winter air, but the mood is laden with a hue of fragrances. Like a seasoned sommelier, I can tell that this aromatic bouquet has a tantalizing effect on my senses and an uplifting one on my spirits...

...that sweet whiff of nostalgic sentiment, the fresh aroma of renewed commitment and resolve to come back stronger in the coming year, that scented air of optimism laced with new-found purposefulness and that ever contagious brewing current of gusto and vigour.

Well, and what gives me reason to stay hopeful, you may dryly ask, in the face of the seductive and lathered trappings of the all engaging soap that is life? Of hope in the times of Sex crimes, AIDS, tsunamis, global warming, terrorism, corrupt governments and economic inequities...all demanding our immediate attention, like there was no tomorrow?

Well, I can't absolve myself completely of blame for being hooked on to this chequered gameboard of life - much like a pawn held captive by the grip that directs it. You see, now, that is a condition which is virtually universal. However, I have been a tad more fortunate than most to have seen people - (extra)ordinary people - summon the courage required of them to change the rules of the game and play by their terms rather than being played puppet in the hands of destiny.

Uncannily, each was, in their own way, unknown to them, called upon to play a key part in completing the on-going miracle - that of the triumph of human spirit - as it carefully unwound the canvas of their lives. That, in a subtle yet gritty display of what it took to make sense of their world in the face of a doom that stared them in the face at a point-blank range.

And where did they find courage to stay put through it all? To this, they all but said this: "It is was as easy or difficult as changing the point from which they viewed it."

Simple truth of life now, ain't that?

Fortunate are those who realise it. For they will begin to play their part in the larger scheme of things of life; a part that will largely define their lives thereon and bring meaning to it, in the light of the decisions they make.

For the rest, it would mean a mere "existence" in this otherwise 'instant-two-minute' and 'big-is-beautiful' world, wherein they'd remain content with admiring the wrappings and never look inside the box, failing to take cognition of the slow but definite little miracles that keep happened around them all the time!

Yet, all is not lost. For, if there was ever a time for rejeuvenation of the body, the mind or the heart, then this has to be it! For it is now - at New Year's - that the fountain of hope springs to life in its attempt to touch unfathomable heights and thereby unleash the greatest miracle of them all - that of human potential.

And so as the New Year dawns upon us, let us re-commit ourselves to strenghtening our bond with humanity and our belief in people. However more importantly than most, let us learn to believe in ourselves and ungrudgingly give ourselves a second chance. A chance to open our hearts to love and accept ourselves wholly and unconditionally.

For if miracles are to happen, we first need to believe that we're worthy of them and hope in them strongly enough for them to actually happen.

A figment of my imagination, you say? Well, to each his own. But for me, I can tell 'cause I've seen it ring true for me in more ways than one all through this past year.

Happy New Year everybody!

May the new year bring us all more of what we love. May the force be with us and many good things to us.

I sail over still waters,
forewarned they run deep…
Strength for ores, paddling life’s currents,
Amidst curdled thought but structured flow.
Confidence and fear battle it out,
amidst resilient efforts to win…
I journey the unknown,
In silent contemplation of sin.
Gravity hangs my head in shame,
Hope disappoints, leaving me lame.
Like a star having risen, when others have set,
I set forth to capture my time in fame
- Trevor Mark Fernandes

P.S: This entry is solely dedicated to all those beautiful people, knowing whom, made me a more complete person in the year that was. Thank you Ma, Pappa, Naana, Aabaa, Carol, Kiran, Nix, Nandu, Vinny, Praa, Preeti and Raji. There is so much I have learnt from each of you - Aloha!

Of Pride and Prejudice...

Went out to dinner with a friend last night and I came back full with more food for thought than I had consumed for a fill. What started out as a dinner to just catch-up with each other, for that is what we both intended it to be, turned out to be a soul-searching experience for me.

Fresh out of B-School and armed with a library-load of even fresher management jargon, I was high on theoretical jingoism as I waxed eloquent on areas of the like of efficiency and effectiveness, reduction of lead time and cycle time et al, in my attempt to impress upon my friend the importance of ‘value addition’ on his part to the family business, the reigns of which had now been handed over to him by his father.

Helplessly he watched me rattle off nineteen to the dozen as I kept re-iterating the need for him to pursue a Master’s in Business Administration sometime in the near future for better insights into effectively driving his business…blah blah blah…

Patiently he listened, and then when I was sure that I had spoken convincingly enough and had no more to say, he took over. And what he told me over dinner as we sat at the rooftop of Bombay Blues, watching the incandescent shimmer of evening traffic glide past us into a distant luminosity, I shall always remember as one of the key lessons life uncannily throws you way when you least foresee it.

All of 23, here was my fine young friend, out of grad school with dreams of making it big on his own as a consultant. And a good start he had made in that direction too, having landed himself a plum position in one of India’s better known consultancy firms. Barely eight odd months into his dream job and many accolades later, he had to call it quits. The family business was in the doldrums and his father in despair. Destiny now fired her salvo of taunting mocks at my friend – the son of the house - to prove all he was worth in a trial by fire as he was ushered in to hold and guard fort.

The retail tea business, for that is what they are into, was slowly beginning to succumb to the mighty clout of mammon in the form of organized retail, courtesy clearance of 100% FDI in the tea sector.

The clearance came at a time when prices had touched abysmal lows, much below the cost of production and the industry was in much need of a stimulant. With global output showing an upward trend and new producers and exporters entering the fray, the prices slumped even further. Correspondingly, Indian prices and exports took a beating and efforts were now on to shore up the bottom-line.

Faced with such a situation, it is, today a do-or-die conundrum for small time retailers in a bid to salvage their businesses. And it is no different for my friend’s family either as they struggle to stay afloat in their efforts to eke out a living. Things have reached such a zenith that they are in serious consideration of moving house form their plush apartment in uptown New Bombay to a rented flat so as only to repay the mounting debt incurred on keep the business going.

With tears in his eyes he then told me that it was all very well to mouth competitive strategy for sustained growth in business and economic development in favour of the consumer whilst supporting the claim to open markets. The ground realities, in the absence of sound economics and tempered politic, in emerging economies like ours however project a whole new story.

With domestic markets soon disappearing in the face of falling incomes and rising costs of production, it’s only a matter of time before India’s blind rally at embracing globalization is soon going to claim its merciless pound of flesh from many more families such as these.

I don’t for a minute – as I state all of this – claim to be "anti globalist". What I am attempting to say here however is, that on the issue of globalization when it comes to India, there are deeper implications that are conveniently overlooked by the powers that be, given the steeped layers of a socio-cultural pluralist and disparate state of peoples in this nation state of ours.

And here I liberally quote Thomas Friedman, one of America's foremost political and economic affairs writers, when he said that all economic growth cannot only be explained with reference to the markets; power, politics,environment and culture are of equal import. "One has to understand that it is the interaction of all of these that is increasingly defining the face of economic growth and therefore international relations today. Only then will we be able to satisfysingly order the chaos. And understand this, one must, considering that if there is one system that is influencing more people in many more ways than they'll ever understand, it's globalisation.

In dealing with a non-linear system, especially a mighty complex one, you can't just think in terms of parts or limited aspects and then add things up and then say that behaviour of this and of that, added up together, makes the whole thing. With a complex non-linear system such as globalisation, you have to break it up into pieces and then study each and every aspect and the strong interactions between them all to approximate the magnitude of impact unleashed by it."



India needs to pay heed, else it'll be India mining instead of India shining - all over a concept that is being rashly implemented, in a pip to the WTO post, berift a wider pan Indian vision!





“What is happening to the world, lies at the moment, just outside the realm of common human understanding. It is the writers, the poets, the artists, the singers, the filmmakers who can make the connections, who can find ways of bringing it into the realm of common understanding, who can translate cash-flow charts and scintillating boardroom speeches into real stories about real people with real lives. Stories about what it’s like to lose your home, your land, your job, your dignity, your past and your future to an invisible force. To someone you can’t see. You can’t hate. You can’t even imagine.”
- Arundhati Roy