tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62176184419040599682024-02-08T11:02:05.779+05:30Audi Alteram PartemAudi Alteram Partem is Latin for "Hear the other side".......This blog gives a Balanced view of issues which may not reflect the mainstream view. You need to be tolerant and independent -minded if you decide to read this blog as it may not be everyone's cup of tea. Decide for yourself.Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.comBlogger467125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-83544789500533221242020-06-07T23:21:00.000+05:302020-06-07T23:21:44.666+05:30Working through a Pandemic- A First Person Perspective<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPNoI76M9cA5H7UoBIOEbUquO4XRykxqBUXUJuxYUVR7aPodpMEHFyYeDaQdMQwUFuZYO2kv63UOZTaaVwffgn0G_I0xkwqGCISoJYIWO1ufC60_6InvLLo216lNM8YuNcu-wZnlX-mLo/s1600/corona1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPNoI76M9cA5H7UoBIOEbUquO4XRykxqBUXUJuxYUVR7aPodpMEHFyYeDaQdMQwUFuZYO2kv63UOZTaaVwffgn0G_I0xkwqGCISoJYIWO1ufC60_6InvLLo216lNM8YuNcu-wZnlX-mLo/s320/corona1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The title “Life during
Lockdown ne’ Quarantine” was given me as part of a blog prompt of the Chennai
bloggers club where various members have written about their lives during the
compulsory lockdown for the past few months to prevent corona virus
transmission. I really don’t know if I am qualified to write on the same topic
as my situation is very different and hence I prefer to go with a title
reflecting reality. I was never in lockdown but was in quarantine for a few
days initially; as I have been working continuously ever since the first
reports of the virus came in -every alternate week on-duty with a week off as
self-quarantine for the first month (March) aka the <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>initial denial phase when corona was supposed
to go away if our eyes were closed tightly. This on/off weekly concession was gradually
reduced to five days on/off, three days on/off etc in the subsequent months as it
was decided by the powers that be that the hospital’s need all hands on deck
and they were willing to risk working the doctors continuously and may the
strongest healthcare worker survive in this gladiatorial contest for the
watching/voting public’s edification (doctors were never a significant vote
bank for our politicians). </span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">As such I don’t have any big
lockdown stories to share about how lonely I felt at home (for I was travelling
the empty roads daily) or how desperate I was to dial up former girlfriends and
ask them if they were still alive and available(Link to that Blogpost of Jo’s
here). I meanwhile am being asked at every checkpoint by our local version of
the Minneapolis cops to show that my face on my government issued official id card
with a photo taken eight years ago matches my current mask wearing countenance
of today to authenticate that I am indeed travelling for work even as my
vehicle is the only one on the road at such an early morning or late at night. So,
I am slightly jealous that a lot of people are doing work from home and getting
by with spending time at work in a “homely atmosphere” while others are
enjoying the true benefits of the lockdown by staying at home and doing stuff
like having a second honeymoon. Unfortunately, being classified as essential
services I don’t have the luxury of doing either.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">For me it has been work from
office all this time and being classified as essential service there has been
no long period of relaxation at home, it has all been business as usual.
Scratch that. It has been far from business as usual. The constant fight for
protective gear, for safe working conditions, for getting paid for that work
instead of being forced to contribute against my will to the pm and cm cares
fund from my already meagre salary, to, hold your breath in irony, to fight
against coronavirus, the same corona virus I am already fighting against was
the height of callousness on the part of the government. So when there are empty
gestures like banging pots or throwing flowers from helicopters I am tempted to
say take these gestures and shove it up your arse and pay me my full salary for
working without a break all this while and don’t “voluntarily” deduct my salary
for your idiotic schemes. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Or spend a whole working day
– eight hours enclosed inside a thick thermo-plastic sheet covering head to
foot with no air ingress anywhere, rivulets of sweat flowing down the back so
that the clean scrubs you wore underneath are already soaked wet in a half
hours’ time and wearing an N-95 mask, tied tightly on to prevent the smallest
leakage to unfiltered air through any part of the nose or mouth or chin region,
with the tight elastic backing straps pulling your ears forward till you
realize that damn even ears can get sore, the strong and rough aluminium framework
of the front working end compressing your nostrils, pinching them so hard you are
left drooling through your nostrils and tasting your snot for the first time
since kindergarten (believe me not a pleasant experience) and either left to
suffocate with snot running down your nostrils or to learn an entirely new
skill- how to breathe through your mouth and that too breathing through those
multiple filtered layers of the n-95 leaving you with less than half the oxygen
you inhaled at first finally reaching your lung leaving you permanently oxygen craving
and resisting hyperventilation(and panicked breathing) through sheer willpower
and to wear a full face shield over top of all this with one more tight elastic
strap pinching the forehead tightly and leaving you with hazy vision if the
plastic external which has just been wiped with surgical spirit between
patients has left over smudges and through all these trying to communicate with
the patients speaking nasally like Darth Vader from the Star wars franchise. Do
this first; do all these first and then come and tell me how as responsible citizens
of the country we should all be willing to sacrifice for the country and if
that includes voluntary donations to some politicians care fund we should be
ready to do it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Now that the rant has been
put out of the way let’s get back to the actual blogpost. To sum up- my life
during lockdown sucks majorly. Although there is the awareness that I am living
through interesting times (having complained a lot previously about how my
boring my life was), this constant war against known and unknown enemies (the
unknow being the virus) is a serious drag on both my physical and mental health
and well-being. To everyone who asks so how are you? the only honest answer I
can give is, I am surviving-on a day to day basis, no long-term plans yet. If
and when we get through this corona virus thing all I want to do is take a long
vacation in some Caribbean beach – Bahamas or Jamaica, just lie on the sand
with a raspberry breezer in hand and enjoy the solitude of the not-needed/useless
human being, the non-essential worker so to say, whose absence no one will
miss. Till then all I need is a cup of hot strong filter coffee every two
hours, oh wait, once I have dorned this sterile suit I cannot remove it for any
reason without breaking sterilization protocol; so hold that coffee till the
end of my shift. And while at that, hold everything else too, for PPE’s are
scarce resources strictly rationed and cant be changed/wasted again and again if
someone has a weak bladder and wants to go so often. Bladder control, ladies
and gentlemen, mind over matter so to say is my true gain this lockdown period.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-52540510949883582012020-04-01T20:38:00.000+05:302020-04-01T20:38:01.706+05:30Alien Invasion<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">1.-The Invasion<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The Red Martians had been preparing for some
time for final launch. Their technology level was at using fission rockets
which meant a one-way trip mostly, unless they could find fissionable materials
on the invaded planet, enough to power them back to their home planet if they
so desired. But that was a long way away in the future. The invasion fleet
would have to subjugate the native populations, eradicate the dominant species
on the planet and then with or without using collaborators find out and mine sufficient
fissionable materials to enable the fleet to go back and bring the second wave.
For this was just the first wave, half the population of mars, the strongest
most warlike population to be sure and the most virile to go and not only
colonize the blue planet quickly but to multiply in its slightly heavier oxygen
atmosphere that no other neighbouring planetary species in the solar system would
dare to invade the third planet once the red Martians had obtained a solid
foothold on it. The red Martians had prepared long and carefully for this
invasion, it had taken decades of their life ever since the stupid earthlings
had started broadcasting into space that their planet was capable of supporting
life. The Martians couldn’t believe it at first. Was this all a ruse? If so for
what purpose? Were the earthlings so starved of nutrition that they were
willing to attract other planetary species to their home world to feed on them?
None of it made sense. Even their best scientific minds couldn’t understand why
the earthlings were broadcasting so many signals into space. It was unprecedented
in the Martians millennium of existence and induced acute anxiety in their
leaders. Ever since the dawn of life in the nine planet solar system, none of
the populated planets, neither Venus, nor Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus or
Neptune had ever broadcast into space that “Hey, here are life giving planets
and we have evolved life here, you are welcome to come here and take it”. None,
but the stupid earthlings had done so. Signalled to the entire universe that
there were life supporting planets in the 9-planet solar system capable of
providing organic nutrients. It was either stupidity of the highest order or
sheer recklessness on the part of the blue planetary species to endanger life
in the entire known solar system. Every other species had hunkered down into
the deep dark soil of its planet projecting a complete lack of life to every
explorer and invader (mostly the same thing), once it was capable of space
flight and had communicated with the nearest planetary lifeforms and had
learned the truth of the universe. That the universe was a whole lot of scary
species always looking for new planets to colonize and species to devour for
their organic contents was a universal truth known to every species on every
planet on every star and galaxy. Everyone realized this truth to be self-evident
once they started lifting off from their planet’s gravity well. Except the
earthlings. They were a whole lot of stupid apparently. Not only had they
continued to broadcast their location to the wide universe but also had sent
probes outside the limits of the solar system with information leading straight
back to the nine planets. This was a genocidal war crime on a solar system
level and the blue planet earthlings had to be punished for it and stopped
before they did further damage to the rest of the species. The Jovian’s and Neptunian’s
had proposed an asteroid strike to obliterate the third planet and silence
those voices seeking to expose them all. But the red Martians had proposed an
alternate- a planetary invasion to eradicate the loathsome bipedal species
which was even now launching chemical rockets into deep space with long plume
signatures capable of being traced back to source. It not only helped that they
were the nearest planet to the earth, but also capable of surviving in the open
on the slightly more oxygen rich atmosphere of earth, which the Venusians can
never do and finally to add icing to the cake the Martians could use their
feeding appendages directly on the earth species which conveniently carried a nutrient
fluid in their bodies, a red fluid which could be fed on and absorbed directly
by the Martians for their organic nutrients. The Martians had been taking off a
few earth species for decades and studying them for absorption of their
nutrient fluids and had found that the earthlings were not only compatible with
the Martian diet but also provided a rich source of all the other minerals
needed along with the organics. Hence the fleet was got ready to invade the
earth and save the solar system by silencing once and for all those pestilent
squealers threatening all nine planetary species.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">2.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>–
The Aftermath<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">When the first Martian saucers landed it was
near to the great urban settlements intentionally. The Martians had planned and
prepared for the initial resistance to be stiff, even with the primitive
kinetic weapons of the earthling’s and the Martian ground assault tripods had
their armour specially strengthened to deflect kinetic weapons. The saucers
landed and disgorged the tripods on a fine sunny day and the Martians rambled
into the vast urban conglomerations the native earthlings called cities. They
were prepared to encounter shock and distress and panic from the native
population as even the few earthlings they had encountered previously on
scouting trips had panicked at the sign of the Martians and had died on the
spot with stoppage of their hearts suddenly. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But strange to say this time there was no panic,
no shock, no fleeing groups of bipeds. The earthlings had all seemed to be
hunkered down in their dwellings already as if they had advance intelligence of
the Martian invasion. Nothing made sense to the Martians as their tripods
roamed around the empty streets of the earthlings. The Martian commander then
made the courageous decision to go into the dwellings of these creatures and
hunt them out from wherever they were hiding. The order was transmitted and the
Martian invasion force exited the safety of their assault vehicles and landers
for the first time on the blue planet. They started a cordon search and sector
by sector they went inside the earthling’s dwellings where to their great
surprise they found the earthlings hunkered down individually. They were
dragged out, assembled and devoured as when the Martians needed organic
nutrition. After two days of frenzied feeding on the earthling liquids, none of
the soldiers reported any adverse reaction, so the main body of the invasion
force, the civilians and administrators were disembarked from the colony ships
and mass feeding on the earthlings started. It was on the third day that the
disease began. It started with a fluid flow in the Martians appendages which believe
me, when you have eight of them is a real danger to health. This was followed
by sense of breathlessness despite the rich oxygen laden atmosphere of earth which
was better than mars by many degrees. The ancient and wisest advisors started
toppling first unable to breathe and pretty soon the rest of the invasion force
was on its back merely struggling to take a single breath. Even the use of respirators
inside the Martian landers offered no respite as they seem to have been
contaminated too. The Martians suspected an unknown earth disease and decided
to try out their experimental translator technology. One of the captured bipeds
was brought in and shown the dying Martians and asked why? He answered, as
translated as best as the machine could, in a single word-corona. The Martian
commanders, those still left alive, decided to withdraw from the planet and
ordered their people back on the saucers but sadly none survived the journey
back and the mystery of the great Martian invasion to earth remained a warning
sign to all the rest of the nine planets. Thereafter the third planet, the blue
planet was designated a dangerous planet, a quarantined zone capable of killing
any life which landed there. What the earthlings did or how they survived these
diseases became the stuff of legends on other planets and taught to the
younglings. Many of their younger warriors on Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Neptune
were challenged – if you want to show you are a great warrior visit the third
planet earth and take a breath there. But sadly, none had the courage to do so
and earth was left alone forever by the entire universe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: center; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">-<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The end –<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Dedicated to H.G.Wells and his iconic science
fiction thriller – War of the Worlds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-71371701064521028152020-03-26T23:03:00.000+05:302020-03-26T23:03:07.406+05:30LIFE IN CORONA TIMES<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><b>Life in corona times</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaiKVeLfYVx4g8uK3nD7XSi_XDHVWe8RWsYrG4pA73MjrkJXxaNxsZ9ubkLSIWPet_q0nHgkPz-SXDXmqppPrTkJlfDUZ0ieh6eA6INrHSglgpTcRMrHoMB1ZdYb5QTj_5_COrgqGanEk/s1600/91177662_1576567382494061_999286031893135360_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaiKVeLfYVx4g8uK3nD7XSi_XDHVWe8RWsYrG4pA73MjrkJXxaNxsZ9ubkLSIWPet_q0nHgkPz-SXDXmqppPrTkJlfDUZ0ieh6eA6INrHSglgpTcRMrHoMB1ZdYb5QTj_5_COrgqGanEk/s320/91177662_1576567382494061_999286031893135360_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">These are interesting
times..wait..that might be a bit of an understatement, but you know me, I am
the master of the stiff upper lip and the take it on the chin brigade. Anyway, what’s
interesting about times like these is the absolute certainty amongst certain
segments of the population that death is going to come for them pretty soon. Well
for people like me who have always walked under the shadows in the valley of
death (well I love that phrase and was looking for a place to use it for ages),
well for people like me, death was always on the horizon and never a distant
possibility and precisely for that reason I had made my peace with it a long
time ago. It was only the manner of my death which used to puzzle me not the certainty
of it. Well, the corona virus scare seems to have offered a clear indicator of
the way the wind is blowing. Death by pandemic- it has a majestic ring to it doesn’t
it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A bit sinister but still majestic. You
wouldn’t want to die a humdrum death, would you? You want to die gloriously? Die
fighting that evil bastard of a virus particle, that scourge of our times, the
black plague of the 2020’s, the Sauron of China called Sars-covid (Wuhan = Mordor,
getit?). To go up against all that is evil, to fight one glorious last battle
for all humanity and then to die cheerfully, that’s what defines a man, doesn’t
it? To stand up to be counted when its all death and gloom and the orc armies
are beating at our doors. So, blow the bugle comrades and let’s go out to face
the evil that is threatening to erase all humanity from the world. If we fall here,
we fall for the glory of all humans, to preserve our way of life and our independence,
even if we end up as a piece of statistic about the millions who died. Even if
our light is extinguished here and now, the light of all humanity shall burn
bright and be preserved for the future ages. March on, with or without us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-45154140160746189162019-02-22T12:25:00.001+05:302019-02-22T12:25:50.243+05:30There’s No Free Lunch
<br />
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">There’s No Free Lunch</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPQNOPcif995_16z-IukHw4e15tqsq6xr1EtXR3Z6snhCvspzQlcqBph_vLDarvNlfTOPKq34EhY9o7eu4yw2BLtxIjpSGytYpVeWyzB1IjevqXCk27gto_OG1ZjuE4Gl1nYsy7AkYlvk/s1600/100guarantee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPQNOPcif995_16z-IukHw4e15tqsq6xr1EtXR3Z6snhCvspzQlcqBph_vLDarvNlfTOPKq34EhY9o7eu4yw2BLtxIjpSGytYpVeWyzB1IjevqXCk27gto_OG1ZjuE4Gl1nYsy7AkYlvk/s320/100guarantee.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">Recently I found myself in
an entrepreneur’s meet and quite accidentally too at that. I had come to meet a
longtime friend who had shifted to the gulf countries years ago and was working
for an angel investing firm. He had come over to India to meet a few prospective
clients and as he was busy with his business meeting’s over on the other end of
the city, the tech hubs on the east coast roads being a couple of hours at
least away from the city and in back braking traffic snarls, the only time I could
meet him in comfort was when he headed over to my side of town for this entrepreneurs
club meet or something. As I had previously declined his advice to turn entrepreneur
or to accept his offer to fund me in building a chain of clinics, I was very reluctant
to meet him there as I was sure he would probably be busy somewhere in the
milling crowds pressing hands and networking or doing whatever entrepreneurs do
when they all get together. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">Having reached the hotel lobby,
I discreetly parked myself in a corner and tried to message /call my friend by
phone but the cellular reception being so poor I just couldn’t reach him to let
him know I was there and waiting. <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Once I
felt that I had waited in the lobby for the decent amount of time, I only had
two options either to leave without meeting my friend or to surprise him inside
the convention hall. So, I decided to brazen it out past security and gate
crash the meet to see what really do these entrepreneurs talk about when no one
else is looking.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">During the course of my
evenings hobnobbing with them I can emphatically say, as an independent
observer with no axe to grind, entrepreneurs as a class belong to either the
criminally sociopaths or the outright psychopaths (my friend exempted). I have
of course heard / read of the robber barons of the pre-depression era USA but
this was the first time I realized that a whole community of people not only idolized
them but also modeled themselves on them in trying to make a fast buck and
exiting immediately, no matter the consequences to other people, the economy or
even society as a whole. It was eye opening to realize that the very basic
edifice of Silicon Valley which all these entrepreneurs in India were aping to
emulate was built on the very same concept of looting money by selling dreams
of a big day pay and then throwing in the towel saying the idea was just
unworkable.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">Fail, fail and fail till
you at last hit the big venture capital or angel investment buy off success was
a mantra being repeated around the room. Well hello, can your failure be
restricted to yourself or at the most your immediate family? No. A failure, any
failure, especially of a business or a tech company is going to hit multiple persons
around, from customers to vendor to the employees working there. You can’t just
plan to serially fail and not be responsible for the consequences of beggaring
a lot of people around you in a quixotic quest to be the next tech titan. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">The people I listened to
in that room where without a doubt one of the vilest, social conscience-less
people in the city without a doubt. They were absolutely uncaring for the consequences
of how their reckless risk mongering or failure would impact on others’ lives.
And these were the people who were moaning about the government not helping
them with more loans without interest and tax breaks and tax write offs, because
they are bringing investors into the economy – the very same investors they
were plotting to rip off by running their companies into the ground and going
bankrupt because they had abruptly lost interest in their current business idea
and wanted to pursue the next unicorn on the hill. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">I don’t claim to be more
moral than the next person but god forbid I should turn so callous as to turn a
blind eye to consequences to others lives in my quest to be the next tech
billionaire. <span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>I would rather live a
simple life and walk or ride a bus to work rather than buy a BMW by beggaring a
hundred employees working under me because my current idea doesn’t seem to have
an immediate pay off date and I would rather be off hard selling my next idea
to venture capitalists to pick up my stake and allow me to exit to an island in
the Caribbean. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">Money, I now realize, can
make people commit the most humongous financial crimes without batting an
eyelid and then coolly walk away saying they were just being entrepreneurial.
Thank god that I don’t have such ambitions. At least my conscience is clean and
I can sleep well at nights. To conclude I remember a song from a prabhu deva
film where he goes “unn panam panam yen panam, yen panam unn panam” translated
as “your money is my money and also my money is my money”. that seems to be the
limit of the ambition of Indian entrepreneur’s and not to build the next amazon
or uber or facebook, something which will last years if not decades. All this
hogwash about following your passion is code speak for money, preferably others
money. It’s all about the money baby. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">And I hope the government
takes a strict look again at these wannabe business men instead of running
after manufacturers and industrialists working in the brick and mortar industries
for decades. Finally, if an entrepreneur fails, he or she must be made
responsible for the failure and taught that in the real-world failure has
consequences and no one can dodge them, be it their first business idea or
their hundredth. The playing field should be level for everyone to do business
in and not be tilted towards certain fields regardless of how attractive and
modern they sound.</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-33380649738578298912018-10-25T23:34:00.002+05:302018-10-25T23:34:48.459+05:30Book Review- The Girl In Room 105 by Chetan Bhagat
<br />
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">The Girl In Room 105</span></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;"><div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-NChfeSELLymVgsnf0ybBs28IfHn5AHYxeTJYtdC6rZ13HwTYkSiV8H8FxfzXBx2PFyImLghLh7T583pWvIgtVikBzVaEda_BRyFguzfeOb7I3Oyq1hFcxqMWE664StqfI1UMU-AFOo8/s1600/room+105.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="380" data-original-width="750" height="162" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-NChfeSELLymVgsnf0ybBs28IfHn5AHYxeTJYtdC6rZ13HwTYkSiV8H8FxfzXBx2PFyImLghLh7T583pWvIgtVikBzVaEda_BRyFguzfeOb7I3Oyq1hFcxqMWE664StqfI1UMU-AFOo8/s320/room+105.bmp" title="" width="320" /></a></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">Writing a review for a
chetan bhagat novel seems so superfluous. Reviews be damned, the man sells
books and you can’t argue with success like that. Even if he is not India’s best-selling
author, which he claimed once and rightly belongs to Jeffrey archer, he still
sells enough books to come in the top 3 of best-selling authors in india. So
the advent of any new book by chetan baghat becomes a must read event as
everyone else in all the social media channels- books related- seem to be
discussing it and nothing else for weeks on end. So in an act of supreme self-flagellation
I downloaded his latest novel the girl in room 105 and started to read it with
my usual trepidation when it’s a chetan bhagat book.</span></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">The story is nothing new.
If you are looking for clichés- it’s all here, chetan bhagat doesn’t
disappoint. A hindu man from a rss family falling in love with a muslim girl
from Kashmir with separatist tendencies? Check. Both hero and heroine from IIT
delhi? One an ex-iit’ian and the other a current iit’ian? Check. Entrance
preparation for iit coaching centre where loser hero works? Check.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>A north Indian hero who is quite romantic but
not successful financially in contrast to a south Indian villain who has no
romantic streak in him but plenty of money? Check. A sidekick who seems less
than bright when compared to the hero but has a heart of gold? Circuit check.
Failed romance, alcohol binge, abusing exes? Check. If you have read the
newspapers on all the burning issues in recent times, rest assured bhagat has
touched all of them in one way or the other in this book, so much so that it
seems a compilation of the headlines of the past six months or so written in an
easy to read form</span></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px;">For those familiar with
him, Chetan bhagat doesn’t tax himself by writing new storylines. He simply
rewrites the same story with newly named characters and in a way it’s
comforting for you never have the anxiety of worrying about what the characters
are going to do or how the story is going to end as you have read it all before
and can predict at the start of the book how it’s going to turn out in the end.
And to be frank the only way to summarize this book is – its everything you
imagined it to be, no surprises here. If you are going to buy it, whatever I
say is not going to change your mind is it? And if you are not going to buy it-
please don’t.</span></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: center;">
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: center;">
</div>
</span><div style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0px 0px 10.66px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br /></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-50469012651279262852018-09-03T23:23:00.000+05:302018-09-03T23:23:02.537+05:30Show Me the Money<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Show
Me the Money<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgphoNBOhrBWGzXkG2A9jeroCBm8jGeG9O-bvww0hVVwDGFtphbq2zaZgoCFdDBn6bQIKjyFh72c4RxxEiEnHwtTECbk9oD1jUr9helS23FiuLwXmzWwfgwfbmDzSBIL83Ls-OAn18iR0g/h120/FB_IMG_1468329834976.jpg" /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">There
is a famous Tamil movie song of yesteryear's where the heroine makes fun of the
hero by asking him to have a bath, at least once a year on Diwali day. That
song resonates with me when I start writing a blog-post again after such a long
gap. After procrastinating for ages on putting pen to paper (figuratively) I
have finally put my ass to the grass to write the mandatory birthday post which
is a ritual I have followed religiously for the past ten years on my blog. I
usually sound upbeat on such birthday blog posts reflecting on how far I have
come and what I had achieved reaching that point in my life. For a change let
me control my enthusiasm for saying “all is well, all is well” in a faux cheerful
tone and give my dear readers a faithful summary of what the past year has
brought in my life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The
one thing life has taught me over the past year is that according to all official
statistics on the average life expectancy of the average Indian male, I am
nearly there at the end, according to the government. I have no great hope of
beating the stats and being an outlier who outlives the rest of my peer group
till I am a senile fool whose death is celebrated with road-rokos and bandhs.
For survival in itself is not an achievement, there are many men who have lived
the lives you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy somehow clinging to life.
That’s not for me. If it’s my time to go, I am ready and that’s the spirit of
this post and my life over the past year. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Somehow,
I have become convinced that I am going to die soon, well within the statistic
determined by the government and that impending demise has freed my mind from a
lot of self-inflicted misery. Let me take just one example, I have completely
stopped exercising or running after fitness because if my time, my leftover
time on this earth is limited would I prefer to use the time doing things I
love or would I use it running on a treadmill staring at a blank wall opposite?
Doesn’t justify the use of my limited time if I have to gain fitness or the
admiration of my peers on how fit or handsome I look. Handsome or ugly I am
going to die and as long as I don’t weigh so much that the pallbearers suggest
a crane to lift me, I should hope I don’t waste any more time on earth in
exercising. That’s one thing my impending death has freed me from- the pressure
to look good.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The
second is my acquaintance circle. During the past one year or so, I have
started weeding out my circle of acquaintances and friends to those who would
turn up for my funeral on hearing the news. If I believe that so and so will
not take the time to attend my funeral I gently disengage with the person and
ghost him or her by disappearing from their contacts list. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My standard question for friend requests
nowadays is <a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_Hlk523777287">“hi will you attend my funeral? Rsvp first
for me to accept your friend request</a>”. Now this has led to certain
interesting conversations like the following. New friend request no.1 “hello,
thanks for accepting my friend request. I would definitely like to attend your
event. When is it scheduled for?” And that gave me pause and so I take my time
in replying “thank you for the prompt acceptance. I would soon be creating a Facebook
events page with the date, time and link for booking tickets to the event and
will send you timely reminders for the event. Please make sure that you book
tickets at the earliest as we are running some special offers for the early
bird bookings” and I closed his chat window. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">And
there was the new friend request no.2 who texted me back to the standard query of
“hi will you attend my funeral? RSVP first for me to accept your friend request”
with the following intelligent reply “hi I heard you are organizing an event. I
am an event manager and mc with wide experience in such events, would you like
me to send you a quote for the event?” and I texted her back “madam, the event
is still in the conceptual stage. Once we confirm the dates and the venue I will
inform you. I also need samples of your previous work in organizing such
events. And as your Facebook friend I hope you can offer me some discount over your
usual quote considering its going to be the last event I attend”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Now
all these queries about the undoubted commercial potential of my upcoming
funeral has kindled the entrepreneurial instincts buried deep inside me that I have
decided to make it a pay-per-view event for those of my enemies who are
prepared to spend money to make sure that I am indeed dead and also plan to ink
a deal with Netflix for live streaming the entire episode to reach my worldwide
audience of ill-wishers. I also have plans to set up kiosks with my autographed
photos and certified death certificate copies available outside the venue if
anyone’s interested. A few merchandizing stalls are still available and you can
contact me directly for the best positioned ones from where you can sell
t-shirts and hats with my pictures on them. And if you advance book for the
premium this-week-only tickets, I can guarantee you premium casket-side tickets
where you can be just cursing distance away from me on the important day. RSVP
me if you are interested in more such awesome once-in-my-lifetime deals.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-16849147304273230092018-07-03T22:17:00.002+05:302018-07-03T22:17:39.199+05:30Nipah Virus, HIV Virus and the Human Virus – Scam, Loot & Chicanery<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Nipah Virus, HIV Virus and the Human Virus
– Scam, Loot & Chicanery<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><img height="212" src="https://www.myempiremedical.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/Empire-Infectious-Disease-1.jpg" width="400" /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">If you have been reading the newspapers
diligently and following the news on multiple media fronts- TV, social media etc.
I am sure you would know and recognize the words- the deadly Nipah virus. If
you still don’t remember or can’t recall it offhand, the news refers to the
recent outbreak of Nipah viral attacks in the state of Kerala in south India.
The vector for transmission of the virus from animals to humans was identified
as bats and as there was/is no cure and no way of immunizing against the virus
the outbreak was predicted to cause massive causalities as it spread like
wildfire throughout the country. And then it didn’t. It burned itself out
within a month and the mass casualties predicted? There were a total of sixteen
deaths. Now sixteen is not a small number, no death is condonable for that
matter, nut when it comes to predictive statistical analysis sixteen is not a
patch on the thousands who were expected to be infected in the crowded state of
Kerala merely by living and breathing in the same air as the nipah viral
victims. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">So how did we dodge this bullet? Reflect
back a little to the Ebola virus scare a year ago, the SARS virus a few years
ago, the Swine Flu some years ago- all of them were predicted to cause mass causalities
as they were supposedly uncontainable. Bu they didn’t. They burnt out on their
own after causing an initial few deaths. Epidemiological measures like
lessening general population exposure and specific measures like better
protection to doctors and nurses treating these patients certainly helped. But
what really mattered was the viral outbreak burnt itself out. For that’s what
viral outbreaks do. The zero patient- the index patient who first gets
infected, goes onto infect a few more around themselves and gradually the
circle seems to be widening before it suddenly collapses on itself. That’s how
most if not all viral epidemics end. But within the short period of the start
and end of the infection, there are billions of dollars to be made- by a variety
of people- the United Nations, the world health organization, the central and
state governments and the Pharma and vaccine makers. Hence all the hype about
uncontrollable diseases with doomsday scenarios peddled in the pliant media. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The big daddy of all such scams was the
aids epidemic scare of the 90’s. When the HIV infection was first diagnosed it
was primarily limited to a small subgroup of populations- the homosexuals and
the drug pushers using infected needles. And then when the virus crossed over
into the heterosexual community there was widespread fear mongering about how
the entire population of the earth will be decimated by HIV. There were billions
of dollars poured into HIV research over the years- but even thirty years later
there is still no cure in sight and we are all still alive. The united nation
even formed a special group called UNAID which received in excess of ten
billion dollars in aid every year for propaganda against HIV infection. The United
States of America alone spent over six and a half billion years every year on
aids. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">And many other fortunes were made by NGO’s
in India utilizing the aids scare and attracting foreign funds for telling
people what they already knew- sex with strangers was risky. The condom
manufacturers who sensed an opportunity to earn more than they were currently
making zoomed in on the aids panic to make HIV infection the most attention
grabbing in the planet through the use of paid media. Condom sales zoomed
through the roof when people were assured that having risky sex with strangers
was alright as long as you wore protection. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">And the approach seemed to work initially
before people started going back to their original selves and rejecting condoms
whether risky or not. And you can’t blame them- when people have to choose
between instant gratification and a miniscule chance of risk guess what they
will opt for? Anyway the strategy of using condoms as the cure for aids slowly
ran into real world difficulties as people in real life rarely correspond to
advertisement led campaigns. Which led to the next big profit spin-off-
anti-retroviral drugs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Large pharmaceutical companies not amused
by the profits NGO’s and condom manufacturers were making off the aids scare
were just waiting for such an opportunity to jump in. they started spreading
money around to convince people they “hey forget about HIV infections, just pop
in a few drugs daily and you can live a normal healthy life”. And voila- the
anti-HIV drug business zoomed to six billion dollars. And you know what the NGO’s
who realized that they were being cheated of a part of their loot did? They
cried foul. They lobbied with governments and regulatory agencies to make these
drugs harder to get as long as they didn’t get their payoffs from the Pharma
industry. As I keep saying the only difference between an NGO and the mafia is
the mafia do their own killings while the NGO’s use lobbying to get governments
do the killings on their check lists. And that’s the reason that even with the
widespread ability to manufacture generic anti-HIV drugs they are still not
being manufactured and supplied to those who are positive for the Virus. A few
deaths here and there, despite the presence of very effective drugs to prevent
them, keep the populace in perpetual fear of the disease and always in the new’s
cycle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">And after all these underground wars the
surprising news from results started coming in that the AIDS scare was dying
down because new HIV infections were not progressing at the levels predicted
and why? Because as any competent epidemiologist or statistician would tell you
– infections have these tendencies to bloom and die on their own – self-limiting
in other words. As most people who infect others realize the fact and start
controlling their exposure voluntarily the infected circle gets smaller and
smaller and even if it doesn’t die out completely is still in too small a
circle to be called a universal threat or to spend scarce resources on but
having made billions of dollars on the scare can we just let it go on its own
without kicking and screaming? Hence the continued tom-toming of the AIDS
threat to humanity despite clear-cut evidence to the contrary and its business
as usual for the UN, WHO and other NGO’s down the feeder line who like remora’s
feed on the big sharks which prey on a fearful and unsuspecting public and on
public coffers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">So what does this tell us? For one, that all
those who cry doomsday at the drop of a hat are all talking through their hats.
And for another though there are genuine microbial threats to human health its
not all one sided. We haven’t survived billions of years and share the same, or
almost same set of genes with the microbe’s to go down so easily without a fight.
What they do, we can do. And we can do one step better. We can hang in there
till they self-destruct for we humans have staying power. We can change our
genes – epigenetics its called, to resist even thee toughest of microbes and
make them harmless to us. And finally, the purpose of the un, the who and all
those NGO’s is just to make money out of our misery and it’s our fault if we
believe otherwise. So next time you read in the papers about the next big
threat to humanity, quietly tell yourself that someone has invented a new way
to make more money.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-15480207960099680292018-05-31T21:14:00.001+05:302018-05-31T21:14:15.892+05:30The Dignity of Labour<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The Dignity of Labour<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><img alt="black and white working old human" src="https://audialtempartem.files.wordpress.com/2018/05/pexels-photo-68812.jpeg?w=680" /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Recently I was waiting for a few
minutes at a traffic signal when I happened to notice an old woman selling
bangles and assorted fancy items wheeling her hand cart away from the busy
junction on the orders of the officious police force who didn’t want people to
clog traffic right at the intersection. On a hot summer day, especially here in
madras when the temperatures touch 40 degree centigrade even in the shade to
see these old women push heavy hand carts laden with merchandise trying to sell
them in the scorching noon sun somehow trying to make a living honestly instead
of begging or stealing or praying to god for a handout made me reflect on life
in general and the value we assign to dignity of labour. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">And immediately, unbidden I recalled
my colleagues, highly educated office workers seated in air-conditioned rooms
who at the stroke of ten am or ten patients whichever is earlier close down their
pens for the day saying “I have worked enough for the pittance they are paying
me” regardless of the throngs waiting outside for a consultation. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And these people, the ones who work only for
my salary amount kind are even lauded for their work because compared to
others- the ones who sit reading the bible or divinity texts all day in the
hospital and prefer to teach only bible gospels/classes to any student who approaches
them with a doubt, at least the ten am workers see at least a few patients a
day while the born again Christians spend all day communing with Jesus for
which the government pays them a salary <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and
gives them an airconditioned office and a captive audience of eager young students-
eager to pass somehow/anyhow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that
this is all overlooked or justified by the higher authorities who are frankly
afraid of being labelled anti-minority in the vein of excessive secularism and
being politically correct towards religious minorities by allowing them to proselytize
young college going kids in the classroom. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Anyway, leaving that aside, the very
fact that eighty plus elder citizens are still working in the summer heat
teaches us two lessons. The first is the most obvious, that there is no social
security in India and you either work or you starve, even if you are a
centenarian. Which means that either you work hard in your youth and middle age
and save the money to tide over your old age or you try and get multiple
children at least one of whom will take care of you in your old age, which
explains the population problem. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The second lesson to be noted is that
people in India, leave alone the officialdom, I am talking of even the common
populace, look down on people who work with their hands/feet etc. There is no
dignity in labour if you are not working in an airconditioned office sitting
down in front of a computer. Even the most productive of manual workers,
factory or industry workers or self-employed persons don’t command the respect
of a say a 22-year-old software techie who just passed his arrears exams
borderline or the bureaucrat who sits on his backside all day and only comes
alive to demand baksheesh to scrawl his signature across a file. These are the
kind of people who are most respected in India as seen by the ubiquitous engineering
colleges and civil service training institutes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I don’t have any solutions to offer, I
don’t even know if I can achieve something with this rant of mine. But as a writer
it behoves me to chronicle the times we live in for posterity and as a result I
am recording this to the world wide web in the hope that someday someone in the
far future will want to research why such an ancient civilization like India collapsed
so suddenly and they might be interested to learn that it was because we valued
shirking work more than honest labour and rewarded those who worked the least
and punished those who didn’t.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-43711966757181639082018-04-17T22:56:00.000+05:302018-04-17T22:56:28.780+05:30Stop With The Lessons, OK?.<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Stop With
The Lessons, OK?.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIN8wGN7gMl9Rc48deEy-SAQbKmr24L5vX8mNoXljGi-y6agDXEKBlkk84j8jnOLZW8-fRSZtcilSSK2Ekad04ky73bTBHt0dyVUSfCfquILUfdjPMwGoP5nSurOBorGexZ7CHMNsHvjQ/s1600/blog+pic1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="323" data-original-width="452" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIN8wGN7gMl9Rc48deEy-SAQbKmr24L5vX8mNoXljGi-y6agDXEKBlkk84j8jnOLZW8-fRSZtcilSSK2Ekad04ky73bTBHt0dyVUSfCfquILUfdjPMwGoP5nSurOBorGexZ7CHMNsHvjQ/s320/blog+pic1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">You know
what they say about life teaching you lessons and every experience is a
blessing in disguise? Well I dunno who came up with such empty platitudes but
take it from me it’s all such a load of bs (pardon my language). I mean who of
us, given a chance wouldn’t prefer to skip over all the gory details of our
lives and move straight on to the end part where we get what we deserve? On
second thoughts, scratch that sentence and let me rephrase it again. Where we
move on to the end part and get the victory we justly deserve?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh yeah right, I hear you agreeing ladies and
gentlemen and I nod back. All this character building through adversity and
struggle for success is also overhyped in books and media. In real life there
isn’t a single one of us who wouldn’t prefer to take the ladder over the snake
despite the many benefits of the snake’s lessons. If life was a movie wouldn’t
you like to fast forward it through all the tough parts, the boring parts, the
violent parts and prefer just to watch the colorful duet songs in Switzerland
alone? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Unfortunately
my life as a movie has been more an 80’s violent blockbuster type than the 90’s
romantic Euro-train missing/Switzerland duet singing screenplay till now. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Much
against my will I seem to have been cast in the role of the angry young man,
yep the role patented by Mr.Bacchan the elder, where I keep defeating gangs of
ruffians and rowdies trying to do me harm and a few reels later those same set
of villains keep turning up again and again to get bashed again. I mean there
should be an end to the number of villain’s sent against me by life right? Or at
least some variety in the screenplay? That’s not asking much is it? If I were
Batman in one of the innumerable sequel movies, I would be, by now looking at
the camera of my life and whining “oh the joker? Again? And the riddler? Again?
And two-face? Again and again?” For that’s the kind of scam life is trying to
pull on me all the time. And you the audience watching my life with bated
breath for what happens next are going to be sorely disappointed at the same
old faces turning up like clockwork.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">To tell the
absolute truth (is there anything else I ever say?) I am frankly bored of the
old villains turning up again and again to thrash me and put me in hospital and
then when I get discharged and released out again the same set of villain’s are
waiting outside the gates to send me back into the hospital ward which I just
said a cheery farewell to. I wonder don’t they ever get bored of swearing
revenge against a single individual and move on to others once they have had
their fill of me. Even villains (/essess) should be given a chance to randomly
select fresh targets instead of wasting all their hate and time on an old and
well dusted antagonist like me. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">And as for me, well, if I haven’t learnt my
lessons by now, doesn’t it mean I am not the learning type. So stop with the
lessons and bring on the end credits already, fate or destiny or whatever you
are. Be warned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-12388614883766224302018-01-10T22:27:00.001+05:302018-01-10T22:27:23.930+05:30Travels in Sikkim-3rd Part<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Travels
in Sikkim-3<sup>rd</sup> Part<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6d4X93dymPOpNSOfrmnxLJWAMnEYmh-YOWEY8hqVcxDAvoBAR37fKPBvYkM0oLPbbLUVpdqgMcN7UhXctfnEfdnwmHMXBM7SDCXaGMpLbgMm5uS00jDWSax9xCVPP1oFbH3jaCUpmdQE/s1600/IMG_20171126_161249.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6d4X93dymPOpNSOfrmnxLJWAMnEYmh-YOWEY8hqVcxDAvoBAR37fKPBvYkM0oLPbbLUVpdqgMcN7UhXctfnEfdnwmHMXBM7SDCXaGMpLbgMm5uS00jDWSax9xCVPP1oFbH3jaCUpmdQE/s320/IMG_20171126_161249.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">So what
is the first thing you do when you hit the north east? You give into the
clichés and eat momos right? And of course that’s exactly what we did once we
exited Bagdogra airport. But first there was a minor kerfuffle in locating our driver
who was supposed to pick us up at the airport. Not having visited the north
east before we had to trust travel websites to decide our place of stay and
itinerary. Thankfully a friend in Kolkata gave us the contact details of a well-established
travel agency conducting tours of the north east and we made the arrangements –
even paying the fee upfront for an airport pick up to airport drop trip entire
travel experience. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">And
then when we landed at Bagdogra we couldn’t locate our driver outside the airport.
I kept getting calls on my mobile from an unknown number – someone called Pandey
(according to true caller) who kept saying something in Hindi, but as the only Hindi
I knew was limited to Baba Sehgal singing “aaja mera gaadi mein betja” I couldn’t
understand what he wanted me to do. I mean, I had expected the driver to stand
outside the airport arrivals with a big board bearing my name – as seen in
numerous movies. I hadn’t expected him to call me and give me directions (in Hindi)
to go somewhere. So laden with luggage, I did the only possible thing which
came to mind. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I
looked around till I could find a south Indian looking army officer (it shows
in our faces right?) and I explained my predicament to him. The army officer
(he was keralite by the way) took the next call from the driver and gave him an
earful in Hindi such that the driver was present in front of us within the next
five minutes. We learnt that he had parked way down the road to avoid the
parking fees at the airport parking and had hence been giving us directions to
exit the airport and walk down the Siliguri road to where he was parked. We
communicated to him in our broken hingilish that we didn’t mind paying the
parking fee in future if it means avoiding the long walk uphill dragging heavy luggage.
And with that sorted out we began our journey into the hills.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Now the
first order of business was to get some hot food inside as we had travelled by
a budget airline in economy class and they basically will give you nothing but
water for the entire flight. So as we travelled on the road to Siliguri we
broached the topic of a late lunch/early evening tiffin. Meanwhile our driver
asked us the passport size photographs the travel agency had recommended us to
carry for applying to get a permit to travel to the Tibetan border. As a couple
of us were not carrying two passport size photos per head we decided to get it
taken in Siliguri itself along with all the Xerox copies of the various
documents required and so, we first made for a fast food joint were we ordered
momos with hot sauce- authentic Tibetan style and meanwhile got our pictures
taken. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I have
never had much taste for momos, but given the cold weather and our empty
stomachs since breakfast, those momos disappeared fast. And then we had that
most magical of drinks- authentic Darjeeling tea for after all we were in
Darjeeling weren’t we? And then we were on our way hoping to reach Gangtok in
time as the travel time – optimistically from Siliguri to Gangtok up in the
hills was five hours when there were no landslides or accidents. We had
travelled a long way to get to the Himalayas and just couldn’t wait to see the
famed hills. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikUA8181t1AKLue36d4UIRv3TuXgc8w03iCHP-iF4o10NzudnRJ3bWjVxrN5ZgckJPq82KTujyGtSsYWTwpjFZhkCwMPazFu059ZjakH7WRr1Et605hKIyKC3z99CExdRjauuh36_6YFA/s1600/IMG_20171126_161258.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikUA8181t1AKLue36d4UIRv3TuXgc8w03iCHP-iF4o10NzudnRJ3bWjVxrN5ZgckJPq82KTujyGtSsYWTwpjFZhkCwMPazFu059ZjakH7WRr1Et605hKIyKC3z99CExdRjauuh36_6YFA/s320/IMG_20171126_161258.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">And
that’s how our trip up that long, narrow treacherous road into the hills began.
But you just had to roll down the window and look outside to forget all the
dangers and get mesmerized in the beauty of the landscape you were passing
along. The mighty Brahmaputra roaring out of the gorges, the long beautiful tea
plantation’s everywhere, tiny streams and thundering waterfalls everywhere. Not
to mention the cold, the bone freezing chill as went ascended up into the
hills, clad in singleton t-shorts appropriate for hot and muggy Kolkata from
where we had come.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0DjWS5du47CZc8V-8TChsSKxsTgcZbNkvO40x4QaVZd1bcpjDdYLbAhH4_vnxb5H2zmKSjYRd0Wh7IOdxADihTdvpIcwyFyxH5qKLO35M01kJJ71XxUEkDxJ0qSVOui00JRhNouR8gJE/s1600/IMG_20171126_165306.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0DjWS5du47CZc8V-8TChsSKxsTgcZbNkvO40x4QaVZd1bcpjDdYLbAhH4_vnxb5H2zmKSjYRd0Wh7IOdxADihTdvpIcwyFyxH5qKLO35M01kJJ71XxUEkDxJ0qSVOui00JRhNouR8gJE/s320/IMG_20171126_165306.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-56598623684511037362017-12-26T22:06:00.001+05:302017-12-26T22:06:23.169+05:30How History Is Written- An Explainer<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">How History
Is Written- An Explainer<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyKRBZy_NWTq5ttqm3InuVdDlv5jUaweZYxdRiYukoGcI9jNeL21MjJUKDM1axqG1Zlm_GAxqXF63p8Mm5pgT_EGnK7vooPU8PT4SSLdcezJSQqkT7Du31lDIaZvlK9vwIXmNnqvEkqys/s1600/indus+valley+civilazation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="207" data-original-width="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyKRBZy_NWTq5ttqm3InuVdDlv5jUaweZYxdRiYukoGcI9jNeL21MjJUKDM1axqG1Zlm_GAxqXF63p8Mm5pgT_EGnK7vooPU8PT4SSLdcezJSQqkT7Du31lDIaZvlK9vwIXmNnqvEkqys/s1600/indus+valley+civilazation.jpg" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The
king was sitting impatiently in the audience chamber while the nobles around
him argued loudly back and forth. One of them shouted “but we can’t keep
allowing these migrants to invade our country, they might soon overwhelm our
native population at the rate at which they breed. The best way to stop them is
to build a wall across the border and make them pay for it”. Another minister
screamed even more loudly “and their culture is so primitive- they worship the
fire and offer sacrifices- animal and human to it. They don’t have gods like
us”. Meanwhile a third noble stood up and said “but my lord we have to remember
that these are peaceful refugees, they are unarmed. We cannot in good
conscience turn away starving women and children who are fleeing famine from
our bountiful lands”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Another
minister offered his view “he is right my king, these refugees prefer to settle
in the forest areas by clearing the plantations. They don’t trouble our native
populations except to work for them or to trade with them”. And one of the
other ministers tried to interject “and they bring certain useful animals with
them. That horse animal they have domesticated for sacrifice that seems to me a
far more practical animal for travel than our own native racing bulls”. At this
a whole host of voices tried to shout him down as a “barbarian lover”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Meanwhile
the king scratched his head and asked “so what do you want me to do? I don’t
think these tribes are any threat to us in our strong citadels. They might
trouble a few far-flung villages but we have received no news like that till
now. Can we postpone making any decision for later?”. The general of the army
stood up then and said “why not send a warning my lord?” the king looked at him
hard and long “what kind of warning?” the general, who was a pretty
bloodthirsty one as generals go “ the kind of warning these half naked fire
worshippers will understand. Pick the next batch of refugees illegally entering
our border and kill them to send a message to make sure that others don’t
follow them”. The king frowned “women and children too?” the general shrugged
“of course, elsewhere is the message that our borders are inviolable? We can’t
allow any tom, dick and harry to cross our borders”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The
wise chief minister stood up then and said “if that’s the course you follow
your majesty, let me add a small piece of advice. These fire worshippers would
like nothing better than to burn their bodies in their fires, so deny them that
and just bury those bodies in plain view outside our citadel as a warning to
further intruders.” And so it was done and a refuge band of fifty men women and
children were massacred and buried outside the citadels walls as a warning to
others. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Four
thousand years later a group of archaeologists were excavating the area and they
accidentally chanced upon the citadels walls and the graves nearby. Excitedly
they dug up what was left of the buried remains and sent them to foreign
universities for DNA analysis for identification. The next day all the
newspaper headlines screamed in bold letters “Aryan migration theory disproved
by new DNA Evidence- Aryans have always lived here” “DNA analysis conclusively
proves that it was the fire worshiping pastoral Aryans who were the builders
of the great Indus Valley Civilization”. “The Indus valley civilization was a
myth- it was the Aryans all along says DNA evidence” etc. And that’s how
history is written – by whatever/whoever survives.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Dedication
: To Tony Joseph for his piece in The Hindu on the IVC excavations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-25876763523323854492017-12-25T22:42:00.001+05:302017-12-25T22:42:47.501+05:30Travels to the North-East- Part 2<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Travels
to the North-East- Part 2<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYHLVgKrsxEIl56Nr2KwoAjbnbYdz1Cd_qBG-cnigWCJrFPnzn5GPQLj5HRaCO3uDaRubN6BwJbP_tVleOtwR5ryZnF2NVRVR8x33nrl2rp4-fd2v0GHIp0-sAX2bLc3lAWhF1ioTSGUY/s1600/IMG_20171124_170428_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYHLVgKrsxEIl56Nr2KwoAjbnbYdz1Cd_qBG-cnigWCJrFPnzn5GPQLj5HRaCO3uDaRubN6BwJbP_tVleOtwR5ryZnF2NVRVR8x33nrl2rp4-fd2v0GHIp0-sAX2bLc3lAWhF1ioTSGUY/s320/IMG_20171124_170428_1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">As they
say to travel to the north east, you have to first head east. And the gateway
to the east is the magnificent megalopolis of Calcutta, nee’ Kolkata as its now
pronounced. For those who don’t know, including me till this visit (although I
have been to Kolkata before), the city is actually two, twin cities- Kolkata
and Howrah joined together by the iconic Howrah bridge. Like all good things
ruined by communism the leftists had ruined the once thriving capital of united
Bengal into a bursting at the seams poverty ridden provincial township.
Thankfully after the departure of the socialist regime lock, stock and barrel, things
seem to have taken a turn for the better. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Kolkata
now, on this visit, seemed filled with huge skyscrapers and long flyovers
reducing the traffic snarls to manageable levels. There is also a general
bustle in the streets and a sense of optimism in the people. Say what you will
about Mamata di, the city of Kolkata looks spic and span in the brief period
she has ruled over the state even if she prefers to stay over in Howrah and
commute across to Kolkata to work daily. I was told that this was one another
way for her to differentiate herself from the snooty communist bhadraloks who
used to look down on the old city of Howrah while preferring the Victorian era genteel
Kolkata. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I spent
a day touring the tourist favorites like the Howrah Bridge and the Victoria
palace and even ventured over into the old city of Howrah to see the authentic
old gallis which Dominic La’pierre had written about in the bestseller novel ‘city
of joy”. I came away with a sense of completeness to my journey into the
Bengali consciousness as evinced by their pride in their capital Kolkata. And
most surprisingly my taxi driver with whom I tried to communicate in English
/hinglish ended up talking to me in my mother tongue telugu as he was a migrant
from Andhra Pradesh. He informed me about the large number of migrants from
Andhra who were living in Bengal for generations with just a remembrance of
their language to connect them to their ancestral state. So instead of learning
Bengali from my taxi driver as I had planned to I ended up speaking in a
language I was comfortable with since childhood. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Having
done the official part of the trip successfully, and with a win in the
elections under my belt it was time for the actual vacation to start. And where
better to head rather than the hills. The mighty Himalayas beckoned and from Kolkata
I took a 45 mins flight to Bagdogra airport in north Bengal- an area called 24
parganas for reasons lost in the mists of times. It was a pretty short flight
to say the least. I had just plonked down on my seat on the flight, adjusted my
seat belt and got comfortable after the seat belts off sign came on, when the
pilot again announced the seat belts on for descent into Bagdogra airfield. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW04stG0LX3rdj4W_4UwkDYeQOByunpim7xJI7uel1GmeC-AtOpmpS-OKfrFixSjX7KciKZz67kikm1Ospq_jngm-JNSAhJZ8sB8RyZpmq7rv0hVCnEiK-dUS0PiyAFk3bG0rQkO4vW8E/s1600/IMG_20171126_145313.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW04stG0LX3rdj4W_4UwkDYeQOByunpim7xJI7uel1GmeC-AtOpmpS-OKfrFixSjX7KciKZz67kikm1Ospq_jngm-JNSAhJZ8sB8RyZpmq7rv0hVCnEiK-dUS0PiyAFk3bG0rQkO4vW8E/s320/IMG_20171126_145313.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">For
those who have never visited Bagdogra airport take it from me that it’s the
size of Koyambedu bus stand in Chennai but serves a lot of important tourist
spots in the north east –Siliguri, Darjeeling, Gangtok etc. Its approximately 20kms
away (and one hour away depending on the traffic) from the nearest city- Siliguri
and from there it’s all uphill into the Himalayas. Siliguiri is the last place
you see the plains and as soon as you leave the city and head into the
outskirts you can see the tea plantations start- the famous Darjeeling tea. And
then you run smack into the largest landmass feature of India- the Himalayan
ranges. More on my next post into the hills.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-76742964001265322882017-12-16T21:53:00.000+05:302017-12-16T21:53:41.644+05:30Travels In The North East – Part 1<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: center 3.25in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Travels
In The North East – Part 1<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGgPfb522OCdpmFA6-yg6HG8PThpQBr8IXkt8ijh6L_8feND2rckVuNEkoO10Vmv8noUUi6TmItzegQSXK-n3nk8Y2_6ZCSF2NrJqo2Tv7j-lX4JB4LfG1WVdSUM9B91ZTXJFDLsyq1r4/s1600/IMG_20171127_110456.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGgPfb522OCdpmFA6-yg6HG8PThpQBr8IXkt8ijh6L_8feND2rckVuNEkoO10Vmv8noUUi6TmItzegQSXK-n3nk8Y2_6ZCSF2NrJqo2Tv7j-lX4JB4LfG1WVdSUM9B91ZTXJFDLsyq1r4/s320/IMG_20171127_110456.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; tab-stops: center 3.25in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">As a South Indian, especially someone
who lives in the deep south of India, in the state of Tamil Nadu, you grow up
with stories of the north-south divide and how the hindi’ans (yes that’s a
term) look down on all things below the Vindhyas which divides the north and
the south of the country. You also get frequent reminders of this from the
other perspective when some North Indian language chauvinists stress that Hindi
should be given precedence over your mother tongue or the common lingua franca
down south- English, which everyone speaks in addition to their mother tongues.
Finally you get the whole how south India is more rational and accommodating of
all religions while the north is filled with rabid hindutva’vadis who would just
as soon do riots or destroy mosques rather than worship god in the privacy of
their homes theory which is a part of the popular narrative bandied about as
self-evident knowledge. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">But travel has a way of opening one’s
eyes to some unpleasant truths and making you see things from the others
perspectives. I recently spent a week in the northeast, yes that part of our
country which is often marked in maps as an itsy-bitsy add on to the rump of
the landmass. As a South Indian I must confess to my shame that I had almost
zero knowledge of the north eastern culture except for what I learned in school
textbook geography. My knowledge of the region’s History was again nada/zilch-
for all of Indian history is filled with horror stories of conquerors and
destroyers who came out of the northwest- present day Pakistan and built pyramid’s
out of the heads of the native Hindustani’s they had beheaded and destroyed
temples by the score. All of which fear mongering I had taken to be children’s
stories designed to explain the backwardness of the north when compared to the
south or the west. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">But as I said travel opens one yes to
the reality. Textbooks come alive and history is shown to be real and not a
figment of someone’s imagination. Some of the sights I saw up there showed me
that history is alive and well and is the source of all the fear and angst
against the outsider. I could finally see and accept for myself that all the
rich culture I take pride in naturally as a South Indian- all those beautiful
art works, the majestic temples etc down south, survived and in fact were all
spared at the expense of the north. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The barbaric invaders from the
northwest were so busy destroying anything which reeked of the local culture
(hindu culture) including our temples and artworks in the north of the country
that they never got around to doing the same in the south. It’s based on the
sacrifice of the north- the utter destruction of hundreds of magnificent
landmarks and iconic temples that Hinduism survived and flourished in the deep
south- a fact which is proven again and again whenever you see the ruins of
ancient temples all over North India and compare it with the majesty of the
Tanjore Brihadeeswara temple or the Madurai Meenakshi temple which have stayed
the same over a thousand years. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The same is true of our borders – it
only takes a trip into the mountains of the north- those magnificent Himalayas
and look up into the mass of the Chinese army poised to rush down into the
plains of the peninsula to appreciate the constant fear of the people of the
north east to be run over by the chic-coms and start speaking mandarin. It’s
here that you really get to appreciate the Indian army and its many sacrifices
in guarding the borders. I spent a week in the border towns along the
Chinese-occupied Tibetan border and I came away a chastened man with a better
perception of what it means to be an Indian, a Hindu and to be at the mercy of
two enormous hordes of barbarian armies poised to the east and west of my
country straining at the leash to enter the Gangetic plains and down south to
finally erase the idea of India from history like they have been trying to do
(and failing) for millennia. The threat from the unwashed barbarian hordes to
the west and the yellow peril to the east is indeed real (as spoken from the
times of Kipling) is what I came back with. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhyphenhyphenXNjc0dra2F3v1WXa2lTIdhktyWuNZfYLG3wtXxNlh2i-WRUzwIknZ7F6WOIul2d9Cr_88vNSH44GG4HPLwK32_FDY0x4krhKnVWV8dyUAYl-RmRhx_3CeXZqFJEGLk0KsH7DumIras/s1600/IMG_20171127_110432.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhyphenhyphenXNjc0dra2F3v1WXa2lTIdhktyWuNZfYLG3wtXxNlh2i-WRUzwIknZ7F6WOIul2d9Cr_88vNSH44GG4HPLwK32_FDY0x4krhKnVWV8dyUAYl-RmRhx_3CeXZqFJEGLk0KsH7DumIras/s320/IMG_20171127_110432.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The idea of India- in fact the very
survival of this fragile idea of hope, optimism and freedom is in a precarious
position and guarded by a few regiments of die hard soldiers on our borders in
the midst of sub zero cold and absolutely zero comfort is what shocked me. I
have come back with my eyes opened and a great deal of respect for our men in
uniform. And an iron resolve to do my bit for the safety of my nation, for its
very survival amongst such overwhelming odds. More to follow in my next few
blogs as I report on my experiences in the frontiers of India.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-78788854378862875012017-11-08T22:59:00.001+05:302017-11-08T22:59:38.957+05:30The October Revolution(s)<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The October Revolution(s)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjseYM_dXwr8E9YDw4dtWXatP7t1bbP7FlRtXuhbioCDpqRJulJEsA4VxGAbengSEkCnBei1B0LaQHmG8002RP5SGaE_QGEdRMCgtfbjELrhVLP0zwuUy249Jb0DeX5kIce5Rs-hFrSCvU/s1600/14829303670MPT-India-Understanding-Demonetization-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="420" data-original-width="790" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjseYM_dXwr8E9YDw4dtWXatP7t1bbP7FlRtXuhbioCDpqRJulJEsA4VxGAbengSEkCnBei1B0LaQHmG8002RP5SGaE_QGEdRMCgtfbjELrhVLP0zwuUy249Jb0DeX5kIce5Rs-hFrSCvU/s320/14829303670MPT-India-Understanding-Demonetization-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The road to hell is paved with good
intentions and it behooves us on certain anniversaries to reflect how that
innocuous path taken in the beginning led right to the sulfurous pits of fire.
And no I am not referring to the recent history of demonetization and its
appalling aftermath. I am jogging your memory back to a similar economic
terrorism let loose on an unsuspecting population based on the noble ideals of
social equity and punishing corruption. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">A hundred years ago, back in 1917,
there was a large country, riven with rifts between the devastatingly poverty
ridden majority populace who lived hand to mouth existence as serfs and the fat
cats who ruled over them by colluding with those in power, all of which was
centered around a single family rule. Sounds bizarrely similar to current India
and a certain congress party? No, I am talking about imperial Russia and the
ruling tsar family. There was even a secret advisor who had the ear of the
empress like a certain pc of the UPA government who was widely blamed for all
the illogic laws affecting the poor populace and whose ill-intentioned advice
was responsible for the majority of the anti-people edicts which so poisoned
the serfs and peasants against the then ruling government of the tsar. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">History, shows again and again that
rulers who listen to the backroom boys with no ear to the ground among the
people are the ones who end up with all the opprobrium and hate of the people
while the backroom manipulators escape with their reputation’s untarnished to
serve another set of rulers again. Meanwhile the long suffering poor and
downtrodden looked out for a messiah, even if he appears to be a snake-oil
specialist to all un-blinkered realists and a charismatic demagogue appeared on
the horizon – someone who promised to end the single family rule and put the
fat cat capitalists in jail. The October revolution happened and blood flowed
all over Russia. The imperial family was decimated, those close to the tsar
were hounded out of Russia and all looked rosy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">But. As a corollary to the main show
of political freedom, the new rulers of Russia, Lenin and his thug, Stalin, a
backroom manipulator of the party, who together ruled over the government and
the party decided they needed a grand economic narrative, something to change
the course of history and etch their names in gold for posterity. So despite
the best advices from a host of economic experts, the two not-so-wise men of
Russia decided to implement socialism in one stroke, overnight. Eliminate
private property by converting it all into public property and hence destroying
the ill-gotten gains of the corrupt with one surgical strike. Anyone who
protested the illogicity of such drastic action and its obvious effect on the
economy were labelled anti-nationals and either shot or sent into re-education
camps in Siberia, something which has thankfully not happened over here. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The move to destroy all property
ownership was received with acclaim by the poor and downtrodden as they were
happy (vicariously) to see the rich suffer the same fate as themselves, much
similar to a hundred years later when everyone was happy about their neighbors
and dog queuing up outside the atm’s to receive two, two thousand rupee notes a
day from the ration shop turned ATM’s. But such vicarious pleasure at the
sufferings of others only offers temporary gratification and does not feed the
belly. The economy took a nose dive and crash landed so badly that the starving
masses instead of getting their bellies filled just had new competition for
scarce resources in the form of the newly poor and desperate. These were mostly
the middle class and the intellectuals who were treated with contempt and
anathema by the illiterate thugs now in power and who had always harbored a
secret envy of the educated middle class who had till then somehow managed to
just about stay above the poverty line. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">And as a corollary, the uber-rich
managed to flee the country with their ill-gotten gains, courtesy the corrupt
amongst the new ruling dispensation to safe havens in Great Britain aka how Vijay
Mallaya and Lalit Modi fled a 100 years later. The thugs of the ruling party, local
commissars who let their petty power go their heads, stifled dissent in the
name of patriotism, destroyed all individual initiative in the name of progress
and instituted a widespread surveillance system to root out those desperate
enough to speak the truth and all this in the name of doing good to the country.
<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">And Russia instead of getting the
change they hoped for, went into the dark ages for a hundred years with
countless millions dying of food shortages and official apathy while the rulers
celebrated each anniversary with pomp and pageantry and self-pats on the backs
for achieving equality and egalitarianism. The economic experts re-wrote fudged
data numbers showing bountiful harvests even as millions were slowly starving.
The newspapers , the paid media of those times, reported the obviously false
data as verified news and sang paeans to the rulers and everything looked
hunky-dory till it all came crashing down almost overnight and all the lies
were exposed for what they were, mere self-delusion. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The October Revolution of 1917 has
now been universally condemned by history as a colossal failure led by
megalomaniacal rulers who brooked no dissent in their belief in their own
infallibility. History has a way of surprising us when it repeats itself, first
as a tragedy and subsequently as a farce. To conclude, I can only repeat the
cliché that those who don’t learn from history are condemned to repeat it.
Unfortunately we didn’t and we did. I rest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-88846083838512596462017-10-30T20:18:00.000+05:302017-10-30T20:18:20.052+05:30The Brave Cowards<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The Brave Cowards<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0SjlA-rPTgZyFOkzmKo9RcCCye7fcp0AlQneCVF1Q2cEeEOdnO51yYjChRVfBGKykFEdOp_qPGwPAon_2X5Npv3fsXpUMkI9mi64e-Al461zz3qcIbcfhKX0cLZHs3EtOiLYhf7QfaMc/s1600/courage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="198" data-original-width="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0SjlA-rPTgZyFOkzmKo9RcCCye7fcp0AlQneCVF1Q2cEeEOdnO51yYjChRVfBGKykFEdOp_qPGwPAon_2X5Npv3fsXpUMkI9mi64e-Al461zz3qcIbcfhKX0cLZHs3EtOiLYhf7QfaMc/s1600/courage.jpg" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I recently finished a book called “Origin”
by author Dan Brown which stars his favorite hero the Symbologist Robert
Langdon. Langdon is not your conventional hero who goes all out swinging right
from the first page. He is far more realistic and like the majority of us
someone who survives (shivering and cursing) being thrust into situations not
of his making. He admits his lack of guts and never hesitates to use his brain
instead of brawn. And it’s refreshing to
read about a mainstream character from a bestselling author who refuses to be
brave all the time. Most literary heroes would never admit to any doubts about
their lack of guts. Offhand I can’t recall a single major character from any
bestseller who admits to fear or acts a coward, without a redemption story. If
at all a character is written like that- he becomes a side-kick or comedy
relief like Neville Longbottom of the Harry Potter series who ends up becoming
a brave heart (of course) by the end of book in a mandatory plot twist. All of which
made me wonder whether bravery is synonymous with courage? And my conclusion
was that both are as different as chalk and cheese and I will now explain why,
in a long blog post guaranteed to bore you to tears.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">In my younger days (damn…those feel
like eons ago) I used to watch a cartoon series on Tv called “Courage the
cowardly dog”. It was one of my favorites along with Oggy and the cockroaches, Heidi
and Chotta Bhim. Anyway the premise of the show was that the dog Courage,
contrary to his name, was a bit of a coward and afraid of pretty much everything
under the sun. But as luck (bad luck) would have it, in every episode he would
have to face one of his worst fears and battle it to save his beloved owner.
The moral of the cartoon series was on how love (for others) makes us conquer
our worst fears and act courageously. One of my takeaways from the ‘toon was
that no matter how much of a coward you are, sometimes you just have to stand
your ground and face your fears without retreating. The reason may be
immaterial but when you have no option to run and hide you are called brave and
only you know the true extent of your knees quaking under the table. Which
brings me to the concept of bravery. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">When people say so and so is brave
what I assume is that the said person is fearless and has always been fearless
and has a track record of being fearless. These must be exceptionally gifted
people who have never seen failure I suppose. Or never ever entertain the
thought of failure in their lives. Their confidence in themselves, courtesy
their upbringing or maybe their socio-economic status or their lifestyle, must
brook no option of their even losing or being humiliated in public or god
forbid getting maimed in limb or life. But unfortunately for average people
like you and I with normal middle class upbringing there is no such
over-arching self confidence in our success rates. We are the ones who have
been trained to walk on pavements, look both ways on the road before crossing
even if it’s a zebra crossing with red lights on etc. We are psychologically
trained to admit that shit happens in our lives despite our best precautions.
For us it’s never a question of being brave all the time – there is no absence
of fear from our lives where it lurks just under the surface. It’s merely a
fact of conquering fear enough to step out and do what is necessary despite
admitting that our best may not be enough and the probability is great that we are
going to fail. And that’s why I rate courageous people better than brave
people. It’s easier to accomplish things in the absence of fear, but conquering
fear? Ha… that takes a lot of courage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">To end this post, I would like to
paraphrase a quote from Tolkien “the bravest step he took was the first one
from his doorstep”. Indeed, for a hobbit the fear of leaving the safety of his
snug house must have looked more daunting than facing those orcs or beasts or
even the might of mordor. And likewise every step we take out of our houses in
the morning is a badge of courage for all of us naturally cowardly people.
Would you agree?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-70545065916347997672017-09-29T21:21:00.000+05:302017-09-25T21:24:16.699+05:30Absent Empathy and Low Emotional Quotient<div align="center" class="DefaultStyle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Absent Empathy and Low Emotional Quotient<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="DefaultStyle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQOc4qcZqeRcK_JxEcwEqt8kpFDJRVIeZ7Ppnu-L98oTjhWuah3TbBVS1HqaQuPnkdDeMMp4WxwvV6Ktd6_WmQRzDLd5o6Uz7vTuzPiZcK-eFH3uoSKF0xQSAn0kOBzS_O2qeuTq3lYkU/s1600/empathy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQOc4qcZqeRcK_JxEcwEqt8kpFDJRVIeZ7Ppnu-L98oTjhWuah3TbBVS1HqaQuPnkdDeMMp4WxwvV6Ktd6_WmQRzDLd5o6Uz7vTuzPiZcK-eFH3uoSKF0xQSAn0kOBzS_O2qeuTq3lYkU/s1600/empathy.jpg" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="DefaultStyle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="DefaultStyle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">When you
are sick and at home a'bed you have time, lots of time, to rehash the past and
go revisit all those wounds which scarred you over the course of your life.
Although not a healthy practice in everyday life, sometimes it does become
necessary to reopen old scabs and inspect the wounds underneath, to stare at
and learn something from past errors. The most worrisome thing is when you
rehash the past and find that you haven’t learned anything at all from it but
have kept on doing the same mistake again and again. And that is something I find I am guilty of.
I have never seemed to have learnt from my mistakes. All of my actions, say for
instance in my relationships, seem to follow a predictable pattern. Invariably
I have been associated with people (let’s leave it that) who have been barely
stable psychologically spanning the entire spectrum right up to frank
psychopaths. I could give specific instances with examples, but as that
wouldn't serve any purpose other than titillating you the reader- let me pass
lightly over all those unsavory types with overactive imaginations who read too
much into casual things and couldn't deal with reality but tended to lash out
at me for not acting up to their imaginary expectations. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">After
much thought into why I repeatedly attract psychos towards me – I can only
think of two reasons- either I am one of them too (if I were, would I know it?)
or it’s because of my innate empathy- my high quotient of emotional
intelligence which makes me sympathetic towards those who are barely there
psychologically. Unfortunately no good deed goes unpunished and those very same
unstable characters that I alone am able to tolerate their antics of, react
like the asp cladded to the chest and tend to bite me as soon as they can and
poison my peace of mind. So in retrospect I think I would have been better off
if I had behaved insensitively right from the beginning and been the kind of self-centered
asshole most men are when it comes to women. Being sensitive has its
punishment- it attracts the wrong types who subsequently manage to make life
hell for the sensitive person. It’s always better to be an asshole rather than
be at the receiving end of one. Be bad or be crushed is the conclusion I can
come to after reviewing my entire case history. Empathy, sympathy and all kinds
of tolerance are the enemies to decent people. Assholes have it easy, good guys
don't. That sums up lesson number one of my relationship error history- be
selfish in getting what/who you want. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Lesson
number two immediately follows- never mistake pity for love. Many times I have
been guilty of dating the undateable, loving the unloved. I can’t help it- I am
made like that. I am a great friend of all street dogs, homeless people and the
left behinds of society. That might be a part of my job as a doctor- to help
the unfortunate but when it comes to selecting someone to spend the rest of my
life with- that’s about the biggest error to make- as I have learnt to my cost.
There are some people who have been left alone because they deserve to be. Why
society, even nature has judged them and found wanting – that they are fit to
be alone all their lives- the confirmed spinster types. And it’s the height of
foolhardiness (masquerading as bravado) to go and start something with them.
They won’t give you any love or gratitude for rescuing them from a life of
loneliness. They will instead show all the pent up hatred towards society for
neglecting them all this time- all on you. You will become the symbol for
everything they have lost in their lives till then- all their wasted youth, all
their lost dreams all their expectations towards finding a good match- all of
it foisted on your head and the blame laid solely on your head. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Let’s
come to the gold diggers next. Those women who don’t give shit about you or
your emotions except in learning how to manipulate them to their advantage
before finding a good enough reason to justify dumping you after their
exploitation. These are the types who often scream “harassment” and “stalking”
and all those carefully pre-selected keywords which immediately stroke the ire
of the femi-nazi brigade who they hope will confuse the issue enough by talking
about women’s empowerment to mask the bare faced financial swindling they
subject the men to. Their logic is simple when a woman screams harassment nobody
ever asks so how much did you borrow from him or how much did you make him
spend on you? I know that it’s not a given that anybody, any woman who makes money
of you should get compulsorily emotionally involved with you, but when you
dangle emotional entanglement as a carrot for financial benefits it becomes a
straight financial trade doesn’t it? To make him spend his last rupee before he
realizes that no she has not loved him, has never even been in love with him is
the ultimate goal of such gold diggers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"> Compared to these type of women the straight
sex for money kind of dealing by professional sex workers is far more honest as
at least you know what you are getting into right at the beginning and will by
the end at least have some money left in your pockets instead of being
completely wiped out- both emotionally and financially. And that’s lesson
number three- when a woman is more interested in your financial background,
asks how much you make per month and wants to be taken to expensive food joints
in the guise of experiencing new ambiences- all those are warning flags that
you are about to be swindled left, right and center. No woman who is looking
for lifelong commitment is going to make that decision based on how much you
are willing to spend for her on every single date. Just take an about turn and
run. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Finally
the point of having a life time commitment is that for a long time you not only
have to tolerate each other but also depend on each other- for everything. Your
life partner is not only going to be your closest friend emotionally but also
your financial planner, your investment adviser, your banker and the first
person to listen to and give advice on any and every major decision or event of
your life. Would you choose someone who gives you wrong advice? Or who is
clever enough to guide you on the right path when your mind is fogged with
emotional turmoil? Or would you select someone standoffish who doesn’t want to
hear your troubles but prefers to talk about their troubles all the time? Which
is the worst option? Based on such questions alone should you select a life
partner- someone with whom you going to share food, share a bed, share a room,
share kids, share money, share property and share everything else- including
when you are old and feeble at the fag end of life. That’s not a decision taken
lightly is it?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif";">Hence my
decision to look for someone with high emotional quotient and real empathy and
to sterr clear of psychos henceforth. Wish me luck, comrades.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-18592107948212370732017-09-25T21:05:00.000+05:302017-09-25T21:05:11.813+05:30Angry Birds Who Shit On Me.<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Angry
Birds Who Shit On Me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP8GQorEufFm2V1uRzXBnoadTlCTVqLb_4BOV38584xM2jEwAv1bP31JJVTzi3ZqoxtwCYy3CHVoZUtNzAdmYuvDFI7Y9GbB2Dg_brAxDwIxSwqCoiMVpZbu9to02gNeGx6Ekys2oMuqU/s1600/angry+birds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP8GQorEufFm2V1uRzXBnoadTlCTVqLb_4BOV38584xM2jEwAv1bP31JJVTzi3ZqoxtwCYy3CHVoZUtNzAdmYuvDFI7Y9GbB2Dg_brAxDwIxSwqCoiMVpZbu9to02gNeGx6Ekys2oMuqU/s1600/angry+birds.jpg" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I
recently celebrated yet another birthday and as usual it was time to reflect
again on certain aspects of my life which I feel the need to improve on at
least in the next year. One area which I definitely have to work on is in my
attitude to relationships. Being single at the end of one more year, I couldn’t
help but deeply ponder on my relationships lakshman rekha- the very bright red
lines which cause me to opt out of any relationship. The absolute be-all and
end-all relationships killers. And in the top of my list was anger. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Believe
me I get that anger is a very human emotion and everyone gets angry at one time
or the other. Even I get angry maybe once in three years or so (don’t believe
me? ask my mother who will certify the last time she saw me angry a few years
ago). Not getting angry or reacting in anger is a major plus in my work as a
government doctor as there are umpteen number of patients and situations
everyday which tend to provoke people with less control of their temper to say
or do something hasty and nasty. But I always remember that these patients are
in trouble, severe pain, and it’s not right to get angry against them when they
can’t help it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">This
very attitude from my professional life is what I unfortunately tend to carry
over to my personal life. I give allowance, great allowances to the moods of
others and tend to look at things from their point of view, thereby making
myself the butt of unjustified anger which I never deserve. Somehow, I don’t
know how, I always end up attracting people opposite to me in temperament, the
angry birds, who are always going around with feathers ruffled trying to peck
anyone who is stupid enough to fall for them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Being
in a relationship, especially being the sane person in a relationship, the calm
person, the mature person in the relationship does not earn me any kudos,
instead it gets me un-ending abuse in the guise of “just venting off steam”. I,
on the other hand, (unfortunately) am wise enough not to vent off steam
undeservedly at my loved ones, I vent off where necessary and not at innocent
souls who can’t even comprehend what they did to deserve this stream of abuse. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">And
I just can’t agree that people get angry at others and spout rubbish because
they are short tempered. Have you ever seen any short tempered person scream in
school at their head master? Or at work at their boss? I too, haven’t. Even
those who confess to being short tempered are prepared to hold their tongues in
the office against a boss for whom they might or might not work within the next
few months. If they are prepared to bite back the angry retorts and abuse for
something as transitory as a job where you spend a few hours a day what
prevents you from doing the same with someone you want to spend a lifetime
with? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The
license to get angry and vent off for unrelated stresses and tensions works
both ways doesn’t it? What/how would it look if I did the same? Not that I am
capable of doing that, but still for the sake of argument just imagine me
screaming and ranting and “just” letting off steam. And that’s why anger and
short temper continue to remain my lakshman rekha, the line that thou should
not cross. But being the floor mat that I am (prepared to let another person
walk all over me) I still allow the same number of strikes Krishna gave to Shishupala- abuse me a 100 times and I shall bear it, the 101<sup>st</sup> time I
walk out without looking back. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Now
I know that you will be thinking what if I deserved it? Well, let me tell you
that if I really deserved it, I would stand there and take my punishment like a
man. It’s just the underserved abuse coming from temper tantrums I am in no way
responsible for that I totally abhor and will walk out off. Fair warning, if
you are in a relationship with me and if you are going to get angry, go punch a
wall, go scream alone, go work it out of your system somehow, never ever try to
ram it down my throat. I don’t deserve abuse. I don’t like short tempered people.
And I absolutely abhor angry people. I would rather spend all my life alone
than be in any kind of relationship with someone who gets angry at me for no
fault of mine or is generally short tempered. Its time I get stopped getting
shit on by angry birds who cant find anyone else to take their shit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">So
to end this- short tempered people, angry people- go see a shrink, just don’t
come near me. For me a peaceful life is a happy life. A life where no one
raises their voice at the other is my idea of a perfect relationship.
Disagreements should be talked over, preferably over a cup of coffee like
mature adults and not screamed at. Don’t agree, just take a walk or I will and
never look back. And this has been my credo for all these years and that why I
am still single and can’t find a girl who is not short tempered and who will
not shout at me. Know anyone like that? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-82882454074105213382017-09-14T21:37:00.000+05:302017-09-14T21:37:16.883+05:30A Balanced Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_62YDMCwMUJpPqXItjXMXwDnaEKXfx7RyWtn40aiKOuPYI-i5BuDoXpFFj3U_OWyALNE5Kvwg7uvL06W_IhjwCoJZmM4Ryb162el-vPMPnucls4ZFa1y_7pi9_ySuEW6WfnfTSVY_oeY/s1600/balanced+life.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_62YDMCwMUJpPqXItjXMXwDnaEKXfx7RyWtn40aiKOuPYI-i5BuDoXpFFj3U_OWyALNE5Kvwg7uvL06W_IhjwCoJZmM4Ryb162el-vPMPnucls4ZFa1y_7pi9_ySuEW6WfnfTSVY_oeY/s1600/balanced+life.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Can we have our cake and eat it too?
No? Does that sound too greedy? But why not? Why can’t I have a great career? A
good family life? Enough leisure time? Adequate “me” time? All of the above,
instead of picking my choices from one of the above? Sounds bizarre to you?
Yeah to me too. All I want is to have a balanced life, where I can work a little,
play a little, sleep a little and just lie down there and daydream a little.
But increasingly I find that I just can’t find the time to fit all of this into
my daily schedule. No I am not trying to beat my own drums that I am very busy
and can’t find the time. The truth is sometimes I just can’t remember where the
time went when I reflect on it at the end of an average day. Some of it surely
went sitting and waiting in traffic on my daily commute, up and down the city
working at two jobs at either end of the metropolis. But travelling does give
me the time to catch up on my old favorites on FM radio channels and I am
usually in a chirpier mood after listening to for instance “mundhiri muthaella
syenjukku” or whatever it was from the song “nenjinelle, nenjinelle” from the
incomparable AR Rahman. Leaving that aside, travelling also gives me a great
perspective to write the kind of short fiction I like to write. I look at
people and try to imagine their everyday lives and then I use them as
characters in one of my stories. Where else would I go for authentic
personalities if I spend all day locked up in a cubicle listening to people
explain in great detail what they think their disease is and what treatment
should I do to them?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nutritionist’s talk a lot of balanced
diets. About how we need carbohydrates/proteins/fats in equal measure…but every
single diet out there stresses one particular aspect in favor of the other- low-cal
diet, no-fat diet and they all seem to work to some extent. What works for food
ought to work for life too right? Do we need to live a balanced life or can we
live a life where we are happy to accept that life is essentially unbalanced
and you just can’t fit in all you want to do, the operating word here being
“want”, in a span of 24 hours? What if you were to work all week and rest all
Sunday? Like the good lord told us to do on Sabbath? Is that a balanced life?
Or are you building up to having a coronary? What if I just pick and choose one
aspect of my life? Say my career? And revolve all the rest of my life around
it? Arrange to have a convivial family life with someone who respects my need
to work hard at my career even at the expense of forgoing any leisure time or
activity? Can it be done? I definitely
hope so. When we get to the core of it the only persons who can choose to have
a balanced life, do all that their hearts desire- rest, relax, spend time with
family, work within limits- are those who were born with a golden spoon or
those who have already attained a certain level of affluence where money
becomes superfluous. All the rest of us poor mortals have to slog our butts off
to make a decent living and stay off the poverty line. We can ready in lifestyle
magazines about the heady experience of living a balanced life and then get on
with trying to balance all our different priorities into the same time frame.
Live one day at a time within our means and not be greedy to have it all. In
the end its better to be practical rather than be idealistic. And keep alive
hope that someday…..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-14495656583292616832017-09-04T21:14:00.000+05:302017-09-04T21:14:03.394+05:30The Gloating At Others Discomfiture- New India<div align="center" class="DefaultStyle" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The Gloating At Others Discomfiture- New India<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="DefaultStyle" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwUat_sQYcdQh-7UHLzisbA3oH0Hkvckigf3XTA0FoPcmmbCeMnxXT_5ywiVyGSlH_o11aerTb96WRDeZeAYBPQHmceGeSKynr3A4qm2rB_cd_R-3kEoDvYWYnp51O7A80nZMlZeedpXY/s1600/law.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="154" data-original-width="328" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwUat_sQYcdQh-7UHLzisbA3oH0Hkvckigf3XTA0FoPcmmbCeMnxXT_5ywiVyGSlH_o11aerTb96WRDeZeAYBPQHmceGeSKynr3A4qm2rB_cd_R-3kEoDvYWYnp51O7A80nZMlZeedpXY/s320/law.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="DefaultStyle" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="DefaultStyle" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Last week there were two significant judgments delivered by the
supreme court of India. The first was on the constitutional validity of the
right to privacy where the judgment affirmed that right to privacy is a
fundamental right. And in the very same week the judges pronounced that
personal laws are no longer valid by striking down the triple talaq law under
Muslim personal law. Now the two may not seem related at first glance but lets
dig a little deeper to see what this means at ground level. In fact to digress
a bit there are those who are celebrating both the judgments without realizing
that they are both contradictory. The first one is an instance of executive
over reach being corrected by judicial over sight and the second one is an
example of judicial overreach (with the full connivance of a double-speaking
executive) which has used the judiciary as a stalking horse to achieve a
backhanded assault on personal laws and right to privacy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Now disregarding the feminazis who will celebrate anything which
makes life harder for men (like easier divorces) and disregarding the usual
Muslim baiter's who will celebrate anything which will annoy or inconvenience
the average Muslim citizen of India, the real reason people should be afraid of
this judicial over reach is that based on this judgment any and every personal
or religious belief/freedom/personal law is open to censure by the courts and
government. I was so forcefully reminded of this by the Jallikattu movement a
few months back when a few offended animal rights activists invaded the
personal law space of Tamil pride and got jallikattu banned through the supreme
court. Now jallikattu might be a regressive practice in the eyes of a few
volunteers working with animals but does it give them the right to impose their
will on a million others under the garb of the court's orders? Invading
personal laws of various religions is pretty similar when you come to think of
it- tomorrow any person can state that they are offended by this or that
particular practice – say tying a mangalsutra on a woman’s neck (just for an
example) as a regressive practice under Hindu personal law and have the supreme
court ban it. Will it end there? There will be more and more invasion into the
personal laws of people based on the whims and fancies of whoever rules us or
based on lobbyists influence with the powers that be.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I remember reading somewhere that Sardar Vallabhai Patel warned
Nehru against meddling with Hindu personal laws as opening up a can of worms
and it’s taken us all these years to find out that the Sardar was bang-on right
and Nehru was wrong, as usual. That single instance of unwanted meddling with
hindu personal practices was the catalyst which fanned the flames of hindutva
renaissance all through these years and has atlast brought the current party to
power capitalizing on the hindu community’s feeling of being selectively targeted
by politicians which might or might not be true but you cant play with people’s emotions with
intellectual arguments based on the view from the lofty heights of Lutyen’s
Delhi or western mores.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">If only Nehru had listened to the Sardar’s words and just declared
all personal laws as invalid from (or sacrosanct as the case may be) instead of
selectively targeting Hindu personal laws for reform we would not have seen
such communal polarizations and religious riots today in our country. The root
cause of all this evil lies solely there in the mists of forgotten history when
our first prime minister tried to reform Hindus from without instead of waiting
for them to reform from within. This left, in my opinion, a feeling of being sinned
against in the Hindus who instead of blaming the politicians (the Congress
collection of St.Stephens crowd) who had tried to pit one community against
another for their own narrow political needs instead took to venting their ire
on fellow sufferers like Muslims and Christians under the erroneous belief that
they enjoyed more religious freedoms that the Hindu’s were denied using the law
as a tool to bludgeon the Hindu community. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">And the politicians succeed in driving a wedge between hitherto
peaceful communities for political gains and the same successful formula has
been used ever since by every mainstream political party to reap electoral
rewards while us citizens of India despite our religions and differences end up
being made fools of. Fools enough to not protest against executive or judicial
over reach even into the sanctity of our personal relationships leave alone
personal laws. And future generations will probably say the same thing about us
that we accuse them of- that we were mute spectators and applauded inwardly
(envy/hate – are two sides of the same coin), the judicial invasion of another
communities personal laws. Now nothing is personal anymore in our new India. And
we are all in danger of being legislated or judged out of our beliefs and ways
of existence which has stood the sanctity of time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="DefaultStyle" style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="DefaultStyle" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-77592273350703211352017-08-25T22:13:00.000+05:302017-08-25T22:13:47.733+05:30The Anti-Bro<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The Anti-Bro<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYrtiTrazxaZ37eMMNWgI_erON1Y7KwKvz5LpxCfvk27jGrShrIBW8GtRgXlNw1bK6SaQ2WrZcuIOfvt8YIGiqQXCRR0-BpfKA-PjBewPLz3Zrq4UVOjb-yshJotyQO1cn74Gdd_8O9h4/s1600/bro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="163" data-original-width="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYrtiTrazxaZ37eMMNWgI_erON1Y7KwKvz5LpxCfvk27jGrShrIBW8GtRgXlNw1bK6SaQ2WrZcuIOfvt8YIGiqQXCRR0-BpfKA-PjBewPLz3Zrq4UVOjb-yshJotyQO1cn74Gdd_8O9h4/s1600/bro.jpg" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The very famous Tamil actor and equally famous Tamil
politician Captain Visaiyakanth is credited with speaking one of Tamil
filmdom’s most iconic dialogues ever (in a movie called ramanna) which goes
something like this “the only word I don’t like in tamil is sorry”. Sorry,
what? Anyways Copy/Paste to 2017 and I would have to borrow from him and say
(hand on my heart) that MY most hated phrase in English (in recent times) is
“bro”. (disclaimer: my hated words keep changing with time- previously they
used to be exams/marks/ its morning get up your ass, don’t you have to go to
work/ but I don’t think of you that way, ours is a platonic friendship....etc…etc).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I don’t know why but every other pseudo hearty guy I meet
nowadays greets me with a very hearty and instantaneous “bro” in a loud pitched
voice. And truth to say, that grates on my system, makes me nervous and look
back over my shoulder to see if anyone’s creeping up behind me to mug me while
I am distracted by the false heartiness of my suddenly found “bro”. Bad enough
that the girls used to call me bro/brother/bhai/bhayya as soon as they espy me
anywhere within 500meters of them (early warning sign, I guess) but in my worst
case scenario now even guys are calling me “bro”. Bro this, Bro that, bro
everything.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Just last year it was Dude (pronounced dood) in a very fake American
drawl which stank to Yankee Doodle Dandy. And the year before that, it was
“mate” like every other guy halloo’ing at me was a stinking Australian
crocodile Dundee. I get it, I get it, I get that sometimes guys have to use
informal but respectful forms of address to each other but what’s wrong with
good old “meester”? Or “sir?” or even “your worshipful excellency?” if it isn’t
quite a mouthful to pronounce. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Digging back in time paleontologically, I can try and trace all
this “bro’ing” to a very execrable television sitcom called “how I met your
mother (who was passed between me and my best friend like a piece o’candy)”.
The characters in that sitcom (who I might add in real life are gay, not that I
am homo-phobic or anything for I even had a rainbow coloured facebook dp once
for a few hours before I learnt what it really meant and changed back pronto)
called each other “bro’s” and that’s where the famous “bro’s before hoe’s”
phrase first came up I guess, the line which encapsulated the modern millennial
man’s motto perfectly- “ first screw up your bro/friends life before you go
home to screw your girlfriend's”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In our native culture we have certain perfectly acceptable
form of greetings called “machi”, “machan”, “dei porambokku” “ngotha deiii
veena ponavaney” etc. and having such a diverse form of addresses to suit every
occasion (and person we meet) I fail to understand what prompts the youth of
today (mee too youthu only bba, ok?) to call each other’s as “yo nigga” “damn
homie” or “bro”. That stuff doesn’t express the varied emotions like a
heartfelt “deii paradesi naaaye” when meeting a friend after an absence (or
even daily).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So to make a long story short (as I am running out of words),
let me repeat my original premise – I am no one’s bro (least of all, of random
girls I run into suddenly, caveat added- only good looking one’s mind you, for
the ugly ones can bro me to their hearts content). Anyway, I digress from the
topic. To come back to it, call me anything, but just don’t call me “bro”.
Howazzat Buddy? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-68106143242183497022017-08-17T21:15:00.001+05:302017-08-17T21:15:59.344+05:30The Thin Line Of Hope<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The Thin Line Of Hope.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6SSHp-VTtOtb6_KPsMpmC28VdWwhUwhaCy6UVV7U79_QB5ncpbPpEqyMOivsRQMzbf211ey_S-MwUzhrSKFX6edyfiDBLN4R_5U-xJ3XKdhKggeS22ctgnTmRcZsobc7F46_J4GaLW2M/s1600/cherubs-bill-cannon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="623" data-original-width="900" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6SSHp-VTtOtb6_KPsMpmC28VdWwhUwhaCy6UVV7U79_QB5ncpbPpEqyMOivsRQMzbf211ey_S-MwUzhrSKFX6edyfiDBLN4R_5U-xJ3XKdhKggeS22ctgnTmRcZsobc7F46_J4GaLW2M/s320/cherubs-bill-cannon.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Hope is a wonderful thing. It’s the thin line which often
separates life from a life not worth living for. The absence of hope is the
greatest tragedy of human life. Especially when humans lose hope just when
their life is going to take a turn for the better and make some hasty
decisions. Of course, humans can’t see the future as we do and that’s the
beauty of hope. They have to believe in it, believe that life is going to turn
on its head for them in the very near future. That a benevolent god is up there
watching over them and he sends angels like us down to earth to walk with them
in their most care-worn states. That belief and the hope it generates is what
human life worth fighting for. Loss of that belief and consequent hope for the
future results in such cases” he gestured to the prone figure on the bed
battling for life “and just when her life was about to get better she has taken
poison to kill herself. And now we just have to wait here for the grim reaper
to come collect his toll”. “But” the cherub asked the senior angel “can’t we do
something?” It was its first day on the job and it was still learning the ropes
“can’t we, like, turn back time and show her a little hope? Give her hints that
she just has to pass over this bump in her life to be happy again?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Ahh”, the senior angel shook his wise head negatively
“that’s just what we are forbidden to do little one. Remember the fight over
the first man Adam’s creation?” he winked as he didn’t want to mention the
ungodly revolt even here on earth for god had eyes and ears everywhere “well,
God in his everlasting benevolence granted Adam and his progeny the gift of
free will. It’s up to the humans how they use it. To better themselves or to
fall into temptations. And we are forbidden to interfere in their choices even
if they make some such stupid decisions like taking their own lives”. He stood
there wings folded staring pensively at the woman on the bed now whooping great
gasps trying to suck in air as the poison started taking greater effect. “Now
look at this girl, would you believe that six months ago she was a bright and cheerful
girl always with a smile on her face? Then she lost her mother, her father a
drunk, disappeared around the same time and she joined up as a domestic help in
a wealthy household. And that’s where the seeds of her destruction were sowed.
It took six months, but that family was the one which killed her today”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“An entire family were responsible for her taking poison?”
the newest cherub to join the angels asked aghast “how is that possible? Wasn’t
there even a single person in that household with a little pity in their
heart?” the senior angel looked oddly at him and then making a decision “No,
that single family was the epitome of all human vices- there was lechery,
greed, jealousy and hate but no redeeming features in them. All in all, I would
say, they are a typical human family. I think it would be better if you saw for
yourself so come with me” he said, “and I will show how she ended up like this
today” and taking the little cherub with him the senior angel flew off to visit
Seth Narotamdas Damodardas, the wealthy philanthropist and benefactor of many
temples, ngo’s and cows. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">They entered a massive villa built like a replica of the
Jaipur palace and the first person they saw on flying in through a first floor
bedroom window was a young man snoring away on a palatial bed in an alcohol
induced haze. “This is Pankaj, the only son and heir of Sethji’s vast business
empire of beedi and gutka” said the angel “and also the father of the unborn
child in the dead girls womb. While pankaj got her pregnant with his tender
profession of love, beguiling the innocent little fool fresh from the village,
it was his father sethji who drove her out of the family mansion for daring to
accuse his son of being the father of her child. Sethji was angry beyond words
because he knew any word of this leaking out would damage the marriage
prospects of his son to some other rich business family. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And how do you guess the whole affair came to light? It was
jealousy which did it. The Seth’s daughter Neerja hated the servant girl from
the first, hated that even in her rags and grime she looked far lovelier than
the bejeweled Neerja. She especially hated her because her fiancée, Paresh had
once spent an entire dinner staring at the servant maid as she served at the
table. Though plain and ugly Neerja has a haughty heart, a heart which cannot
countenance playing second fiddle to anyone and she bore spite from that moment
on towards the maid. And when she found out the idle dalliance between her
wastrel brother and the maid she couldn’t wait to run in and inform her father
and mother. Sethji was a tad less guilty in that he only dismissed the maid and
sent her out to starve in the streets, it was his wife madamji -Manju madam,
who not only hid her gold ornaments but made sure that the seth file a police
complaint against the poor girl and had her arrested and sent to jail for her
temerity in beguiling her innocent son. She was also responsible for spreading
the word around in all the voluntary organizations and women’s rights organizations
she served in, that anyone having the intention to help this particular girl
would earn the undying wrath of the seth’s whole family. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The poor girl was driven to begging on the streets to satisfy
the hunger pangs of her unborn child in the womb. She couldn’t eat enough to
feed herself let alone the child gnawing in her belly even though she spent all
day on her feet begging for work, some work which would allow her to live with
dignity or at least feed her babe. But society, human society is a cruel, cruel
thing, humans have no pity on those who are down on their luck, they avoid them
like the plague to make sure that their ill-luck doesn’t rub off on others. If
only they knew that nothing is ever so simple” the senior angel sighed “just
this afternoon this girl fell down on the street dashed by a passing motorcar
and when she reached her tenement she found her petticoats running with
rivulets of blood and she felt she had lost her child, the only thing which had
made her current life worth bearing and unable to face such a bleak future she
took the easy way out, the only way she knew to end her misery in one stroke by
swallowing a packet of poison”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The cherub was aghast “senior angel ji you speak as if
sympathizing with the action of this human. Hasn’t god expressly forbidden
taking self-life by humans? Isn’t it a great sin?”. The senior angel smiled
cynically “yes god, has said that, he has had it written down by his prophets
and messengers and had it widely disseminated to everyone. But, you know,
humans, they are a weak souled species, they cant take adversity and attribute
it to gods way of testing them before rewarding them. They are so short sighted
and short lived that the trials and miseries of a few years breaks their will
to live”. He continued the lesson to the young apprentice “Now take this girl
for instance, in a few months there’s a going to be a major car crash and the
sethji, his wife and daughter are all going to die. The seth’s son, this girls
lover is going to be crippled and he is going to come crawling back to her to
marry him and restore to her rightful place as his wife”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“But, but” the cherub spluttered “she’s dying right now and
how can all this come to pass if she dies tonight?”. The senior angel signed
long and deeply and said “exactly, that’s why I said humans are so short
sighted. If only she hadn’t taken the extreme step of taking her own life
tonight, her life in a few months would have seen a miraculous turnaround. But
that’s free will for you- that which the humans alone were deemed worthy to
receive from god and not even we angels got”. The cherub was impressed by the
gravity of the senior angel’s pronouncement “so the humans have got better than
us? Are they that special to god? Don’t we angels deserve something too? For
following gods will without question? While they get to have free will, hope
and every kindness in gods power to grant?”.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The perturbation of the little cherub brought a smile to the
angels face but when the senior angel smiled this time, it was an ugly smile full
of hidden menace “yes they have free will. Yes they have hope. But we, my dear
cherub have got the power to break their hopes, merely by standing by and not
doing anything to help them. And can you guess the best way to break hope in
someone? You don’t break them, you just break something they love and if it’s something
which loves them back that’s even better. That’s how they lose hope and give up
themselves. And that’s how we angels get our revenge on mankind”. He smiled as
gaily as if he had won a great prize. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">For hope is indeed a precious gift for mankind and we humans
treat it as if it doesn’t matter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">P.S. I have written a lot of short stories- crime fiction,
science fiction, social fiction etc but I have never yet written a moral story,
something which has a message for the reader. I have been re-reading a lot of
my favorite Russian authors- Tolstoy, Chekov, etal and under their influence I
have tried to write a honest-to-god message oriented short story for the first
time in my life. I expect reader’s feedback to see how far I still have to go
to improve. Do write in with your suggestions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-1401354344192358062017-08-07T21:36:00.000+05:302017-08-07T21:36:19.081+05:30The Mental Aspects of Disease<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The Mental Aspects of Disease<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2B-sI1AuISMtb7P0JiofIyBH1vByyHep8lIy-FJDokbfH2ZzvbrYgmqDCCmPf7jMoq7bUkxLRbGO4mpHMCGOoL9lPC32D2bjniV0nAQmx1GlXgOkfnOHkoRO0LxmOkgZ-5V5dNpjayF4/s1600/brain222.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2B-sI1AuISMtb7P0JiofIyBH1vByyHep8lIy-FJDokbfH2ZzvbrYgmqDCCmPf7jMoq7bUkxLRbGO4mpHMCGOoL9lPC32D2bjniV0nAQmx1GlXgOkfnOHkoRO0LxmOkgZ-5V5dNpjayF4/s320/brain222.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Are you frequently fatigued and unable to bring up the drive
to work properly as you were wont to do previously? Are you always sad and
depressed and don’t have the enthusiasm to do anything about it? Do you keep
getting fat even though you are semi starving yourself all the time? Are you
anxious? Depressed? Eccentric? Is it time to visit a therapist? A counsellor? A
psychiatrist? And talk things over?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Hold on a minute. Perish the thought that psychiatry
comprises counselling primarily and counselling can cure anything. It never
happens that way in real life despite the millions spent on counselling therapy
by gullible people who are desperate for a cure for their symptoms and
problems. Despite what counsellors would have you believe, venting out for an
hour in a darkened room to a bored person who keeps interjecting soothing
platitudes is not going to make your problems disappear or your diseases to
cure itself. In 90% of the cases I have mentioned above you will have an as yet
undiagnosed physical condition with the remaining being the interplay of your
inherited genes with your environment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you are depressed or anxious visit a psychiatrist who can
prescribe you drugs to bring your mood swings under control before you slash
your wrists. Talk therapy can achieve only so much when the entire gamut of
your neural messengers inside your brain are playing havoc with your individual
neurons making some misfire and others to cease fire. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If you are fatigued all the time go visit a good internist or
general physician and rule out any viral diseases -for most of the times, it’s
these little culprits who drain you of your energy without any obvious reasons.
If still not satisfied, the next port of call should be an endocrinologist who
will assess your chemical messengers from the adrenals and thyroids which have
an effect on whole body wellness even in miniscule amounts. Any absence or
reduction in these little proteins can lead to a whole lot of misery in everyday
life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And finally if you are desperate to lose weight and find you
just can’t control your appetite don’t listen to the counsellor who says you
have weak will power and over eat. They are just putting the cart before the
horse and failing to diagnose the underlying physical problem which is causing
you to feel hungry all the time and makes you overeat. Go visit a good
endocrinologist and check out your hormone levels. Once you get them under
control, your hunger pangs and mood swings will automatically disappear. Don’t
blame yourself for being fat and don’t let others blame you- especially if they
are taking good money off you just to listen to your failings. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Hunger is an awful thing and you are only human if you are
miserable and pre-occupied with thoughts of food when you are dieting. Add to
it the emotional stress of being fat- the unspoken judgment that you lack will
power, the suffering from internal starvation and the constant guilt feeling
when you listen to your body and indulge its wants – none of which can be cured
by lying down there and talking about how you are going to make an effort
henceforth. Get a blood test done before you start keeping a fancy food diary. Re-balance
your hormones so that the food is burnt up to feed you and not just stored away
as fat. Do the simple things, the basic things right and the larger issues (pun
intended) will take care of themselves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The mental aspects of disease are real, no one denies that.
But that’s not all we are- we are an amalgamation of nerves, hormones and
millions and millions of bacteria which live inside us. Any change in any one
of these components can cause disease by the very imbalance the body is
incapable of managing. You are not just your brain or your mood- you have an
entire system of interconnected body parts and organs which, all of them, have
their own agenda and look out for their own good. The loss of balance in your
physical body can and does affect the brain and vice versa. It’s far easier to
diagnose and treat any bodily ailments before trying to tamper with the brain.
A good therapist can make you talk your fears out loud, but merely talking them
out loud (and paying your therapist for that privilege) is not guaranteed to
cure you once and for all. Everyone deserves to live healthy and live happily-
not either or but both. So think over your options before jumping to
conclusions. All the best.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">P.S. this rant was triggered by too many patients professing
that they undergo counselling even for blatantly physical diseases which
require medications and a boot up their backsides rather than couch talk. I am
not sure how these counsellors have done it, but they seem to have convinced an
entire generation of idiots that they can talk their way to good health. If
only.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-91907532617199258782017-06-20T21:53:00.000+05:302017-06-20T21:53:06.828+05:30On Why I Am A Climate Skeptic Despite Being A Pseudo-Intellectual.<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">On Why I Am A Climate Skeptic Despite
Being A Pseudo-Intellectual.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigZ5fc1v1X2LT3U7Zpj8WFzpmHwCzFMg8VNFmVKrYaOrRCLag1l2EH2_jBLi0R0RrSVFSbyEVEKQcp5rvWJL_9Lb-z95H8cwFjlNlnBhu1mGYmygl6CDBU-lh79CsC1fdqGuIZGU_Z8CA/s1600/climate+change.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="138" data-original-width="365" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigZ5fc1v1X2LT3U7Zpj8WFzpmHwCzFMg8VNFmVKrYaOrRCLag1l2EH2_jBLi0R0RrSVFSbyEVEKQcp5rvWJL_9Lb-z95H8cwFjlNlnBhu1mGYmygl6CDBU-lh79CsC1fdqGuIZGU_Z8CA/s320/climate+change.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The burden of being a public intellectual, or at least an
aspiring one, is that one is expected to have an opinion on everything under
the sun. At times this is easy. For example if asked about my opinion on
popular Indian writers or at least the
over rated ones I would have no hesitation in picking up on the grand-dame of self-delusion
and the harridan of uncertain prose-Ms. Arundathi Roy whose only claim to fame
is the shrill vehemence in which she complains against everything so much so
that I fear that she has internalized the title of her own work “In which Annie
gives it to those ones” by turning into “In which Arundathi gives it to
everyone almost gleefully”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I could also show off my sly nature with a tribute to the granddaddy
of self-publishing – Mr. David Davidar whose book was self-published by his own
firm Penguin where he was the chief editor. This was a fortunate occurrence for
David Davidar for that book- the house of blue mangoes, reminded uncannily
everyone (else) who read it of a previous and well accepted novel with a
similar title leading to loud whispers of plagiarism and would have damaged
irretrievably the reputation of anyone else who had done the same except that
David Davidar was not only promoted, he was given the prestigious on-site offer
of Penguin Canada editor-in-head. Of such strange quirks are the publishing
world made. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Now to stretch the analogy a bit further and prove my
snobbish intellectual side I would have to be suitably dismissive of minor Indian
writers of uncertain provenance who sell a few thousand soft copies to their Facebook
and Instagram followers based on their networking skills on social media (and
their attractive dp’s)- people like preeti shenoy, amish etc. but I would
rather not waste time trashing their books as fluff when everyone else on Quora
seem to be doing the same. I would rather tread a different path to burnish my
credentials as an intellectual by taking on bigger issues- something like
climate change for instance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Now for the entire week gone past there was a lot of breast
beating over the American president trump pulling out of the Paris climate
accords. Everyone but everyone including me had an opinion on his act and its
aftermath. Although I put up an instant Facebook post, I found it difficult to
encapsulate my ideas on such a small platform as Facebook and hence this more
explanative blog post. The main fallacy of people with knee jerk reactions and
opinions on everything – and here I am talking about the entire Facebook
generation- is that they don’t have the intellectual capacity or even the rigor
of hard work to read up and analyze anything in depth before positing an
opinion. Ask anyone whether the Paris accord was good or bad, they will
invariably reply as good. But just ask them what was in the nitty-gritty, the
fine details of the Paris accord which made it so good and watch them despair
and log out of the internet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Anyway, I consider the Paris accord as one more con job
perpetrated by Trans-national companies on an unsuspecting world population.
Their idea of reducing harmful carbon emissions which were increasing the earth’s
temperature was to offer carbon credits and offsets to be bought by less
polluting countries aka less developed countries and to be traded to more
polluting well-developed countries which could use those credits to keep their
current levels of emission at status-quo. Now tell me what’s so advantageous
about this? To the poor countries which don’t have any emissions? To the rich
countries who have to pay through their noses for these trade offsets? And to
the earth’s climate in general with the maintainability of current emission
levels? I can’t see anyone else benefiting except the middle men who will
trade on these carbon credits. So President Trump might have ended up doing the
right thing for the wrong reasons- at least let’s give him credit for that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Now if you ask me about climate change, as an intellectual
with a public profile to protect, I would have to say that I am extremely
climate-skeptic. I will not dispute the current methodology of working out the
heat increase of the planet plotted against the emission levels. But I would
argue that the entire science behind the methodology is wrong as is so often
seen with respect to long held scientific dogmas based on an initial
questionable data collection. The climate change lobby and the earth is in
peril give me more money lobby might not agree with me but I consider that our
current models of predicting or even studying climate change is flawed because
we have so little idea of what sustains our current climate at its level and
what the future will hold if emissions continue to rise and the planets core
temperature arises by a few more degrees. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Will the earth be able to auto-correct by ushering in another
ice age in response to increased temperatures? Will the weather become
capricious and unpredictable based on current weather prediction models? Will
we be in another era of widespread flooding caused by rising sea levels? Will
plants thrive on more heat and better cloud cover- a hot house temperature
effect? Will they be releasing more and more oxygen after flourishing in the
abundant carbon dioxide levels and in effect changing our planet’s atmosphere
into a super oxygenated world? No one has any answers to these and other
critical questions on climate change. What we have are beliefs in dogmas and a
rigidity in those belief’s which preclude any other point of view contrary.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">If at all we are serious about reducing the impact of
emissions on our planet the way to go forward is pretty much blindingly obvious
to everyone of even average intelligence- to end our dependence on fossil
fuels. To stop digging for coal -coal mining/strip mining is one of the biggest
eyesores on the earth’s surface. To stop drilling for oil and automatically
avoid and undermine all the current religious wars based on abundant oil money
financing. To get over the entire damage caused by two hundred years of
internal combustion engines which burn parts of the planets dead past aka
fossil fuels and just jump into using clean and green fuels- a hydrogen engine’s
emission is water vapor for instance, yes pure H2O. Solar, wind, ocean current-
there are a whole lot of alternate energy sources available to produce the
electric fuel cells necessary for clean energy with zero emissions. And finally
to get over our irrational fears of anything nuclear and move on into using
nuclear fusion- the cleanest form of energy and used by our sun for instance,
to produce everything we use including solar energy. A dyson construct which
directly taps into the solar energy near the sun and feeds it to the planet via
mirrors might be the stuff of science fiction right now, but so were mobile
phones and airplanes at one time. So the future of emission control should be
less of control and more of eliminating the necessity of emissions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And finally to point out the planet Venus as the end effort
of climate change and increased emission levels is intellectual dishonesty- for
the Venus effect was not caused by Venusian's or their factories emitting
greenhouse gases. What caused it was a giant planet sized object- an asteroid
smashing into Venus- boiling off its oceans instantaneously, stopping its
rotation, making it lose its magnetosphere and the ability to have and retain
an atmosphere which will protect against sun flares and cosmic particles. Now
when was the last time you heard one of these green warriors talk about
extra-planet sources of danger to the earth and its atmosphere, including
climate? When will they learn to stop blaming humanity for all the ills of the planet
and take a more broad based view on the dangers affecting humanity as a whole?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I have, as a responsible intellectual ( and to burnish my
credentials as one) taken a more broad based view on the dangers affecting
humanity which no one else seems to care about, consumed as they are in the
nitty gritty of working out carbon offsets and who gets to profit out of which
greenhouse gas. If the whole of humanity decides to take a similar broad based
view on the fate of the planet then I would say good riddance to the Paris
accord and you are welcome Mr. Trump. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And if after reading this entire blog
post you are still not convinced of my intellectual heft, well, wait till you
read my book on this. And, oh yeah, I too can/will put up sexy DP’s to sell my
book, so there, you are warned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-83089337862414646142017-04-15T21:21:00.000+05:302017-04-15T21:21:30.609+05:30And Thus It Begins.<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">All for the love of Biryani...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Disclaimer- This is a work of fiction
(science fiction) and no characters resemble living or ruling persons. That
said, it’s the unpleasant task of a writer to highlight things before it
happens, as it happens and after it happens. Before it happens- as a warning.
As it happens- as a chronicle. After it happens- as a memory. Some of the best
writers perished in the fascist concentration camps and the communist gulags,
because they did not write before it happened or even as it happened- all
around them, to others and themselves. A few survivors wrote after the events-
by then it was too late to save the millions who perished because of the
pusillanimity of the intellectuals who should have been at the forefront of the
resistance. Or that’s what history teaches us as it judges events (and persons)
dispassionately.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgir8RxxMfQUHb8thDgFByENtmJ2sWcuo0SjVreS2dUTohtZBBsVEdxdxEhzJxKe7IY8LqMIxxKe41EaTKoVW2YRUZ9Kdx3OEAALBDhiEypHNimCEx00jH3kibfuS5-TiQnojQLsZ6ACH8/s1600/biriyani.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgir8RxxMfQUHb8thDgFByENtmJ2sWcuo0SjVreS2dUTohtZBBsVEdxdxEhzJxKe7IY8LqMIxxKe41EaTKoVW2YRUZ9Kdx3OEAALBDhiEypHNimCEx00jH3kibfuS5-TiQnojQLsZ6ACH8/s1600/biriyani.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">That morning he woke up at his usual
early morning hour without the assistance of the electro-assist alarm thus
saving a few volts of electricity and more importantly avoiding the painful
early morning electric shock which usually woke him up daily. Once up, he
wasted no time in heading to the bathroom to have the regulated two minute
shower and then dressed quickly in a white dhoti and long sleeved white shirt,
his usual office attire, before heading to the insta-coffee maker to grab his
early morning cuppa of fresh chicory brew, his only breakfast on working
mornings. As he gulped down the hot and bitter brew he waxed nostalgic on the
genuine coffee, from fresh roasted beans, he had enjoyed in his younger days.
But those days of luxurious life on earth were long past, the unsustainable
population explosion had put paid to luxuries like coffee long ago and only the
uber rich were thought to be able to sample such genuine luxuries nowadays. He
sighed and put down the mud pot in the recycler and picking up his jute bag,
plastics having been banned ages ago, he went off to the station to catch his
pod to work. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">From his suburban house in the foothills off the chamundi hills to
the pod station at Mysore central was a 20 minute commute by uber and a vehicle
was automatically re-routed to pick him up by the action of locking his door
electronically using his Aadhar key-card. As he hung the card back on his neck
using the lanyard he reflected how his apartment was all safe now from
unauthorized access as the only two who could open the door without that key
were him and the government both with access to his fingerprints and iris
prints. In locking his door behind securely he was often considered an
anachronism and was made much fun of in the beginning but old habits die hard
and despite the government propaganda labelling those who locked their doors as
anti-national and paper money hoarders and colleagues questioning his patriotism
as “if you have nothing to hide in there then why do you lock the door when you
leave the house?” he still preferred to lock the doors in his absence. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">This was
due to, thought he wouldn’t admit it, a fear that his ex-wife would move back
into the empty house in his absence if he left it unlocked. If she, god forbid
did that, he would have no recourse legally except to share the apartment again
with that treacherous woman who had made him the laughing stock of the
Hyderabad office by co-habiting with her supervisor openly and who he could not
divorce like in the old/bad times because according to the new constitution,
circa 2019, a man and his wife were supposed to stay married for seven
lifetimes with no option of divorce even after death and anyone who complained
his wife was cheating on him was labelled an anti-national and told to follow
the example of the soldiers on the border who lived a life of celibacy. That
was the prime reason he had shifted work to Chennai even though he hated to
visit the new Chennai, what was left over of the city post the 2020
mega-tsunami. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">When he finally reached the pod station at Mysore junction, he
was lucky to find a pod just ready to leave for Chennai and so he crawled into
it and strapped himself in tightly for the twenty minute commute to Chennai
sriperumbudur hyper loop station. The pod whizzed away on its breakneck speed
and he felt a slight tinge of nostalgia for all the sights he was missing
outside the vacuum tube on which the hyper loop train ran. But then again he
remembered that it was all mostly an ugly industrial sprawl – a continuous
slum, right from Bangalore to Chennai and that’s why he had moved to live near
the chamundi hills rather than stay in some urban coop inside Bangalore city.
The extra twenty minutes of commute was worth it in his view. After he got out
of his pod at Chennai sriperumbudar station, he hopped into the company van
which was waiting to transport a few others like him who commuted daily form
Bangalore and soon he was working at his desk in his office. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Hunched over his
computer console he checked again the work which had accumulated in his
absence- but thankfully it had been a quiet night and the overnight alerts were
few. Not many people had made fun of or criticized the government last night so
he didn’t need to alert the special riot squad of the cbi to raid their homes
and taser them with a 1000 volts charge – to fry their brains and memories- before
transporting such anti-national culprits to the Andaman jail for life. He felt
dirty doing such work and remembered a time long back when he had done work as
a cyber-security consultant who hunted people for releasing torrents of new
film releases. But that was before the new constitution which made watching
unsanctioned films a crime worthy of being sent to jail for ten years without
bail. As most films, make that 90% of the films, didn’t get censor sanction for
one reason or the other and no one in their right mind wanted to risk watching
a film, any film and then go to jail for ten years the once thriving film
industry had gradually died down and been replaced by documentaries on nature
which easily passed the censors. Now all cyber security experts worked on
government contracts trying to trace anti-nationals who criticized the
legitimate government and the supreme leader. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">As he was sitting there mulling
over the changes in society over the past decade, his co-worker from the next
terminal leant over and said “happy
birthday sirji, just now saw the alert for your birthday on social media platforms,
how come you kept it so quiet?”. He smiled outwards at that greeting but
inwardly cringing he said “aww, shucks, we are not kids are we? to be
celebrating birthdays?”. His colleague was persistent if anything and said “but
sirji you can’t escape so easily, you have to give us all a party next pay day”
before turning back to his terminal to continue working. He was suddenly
captivated by the word party and started reminiscing on past birthdays, how
they had been filled with friends, booze and biryani. Ever since the supreme
leader and the party of the pure had come to power he had forgotten the
pleasures of both, like all the rest of the citizens and had turned into model
subjects- vegetarian and teetotalers. But the reminder of biryani suddenly
triggered long dormant memories and cravings inside him. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He thought over his
life in those days and compared it with now- a meaningless, routine existence
where the government ruled over everything you did, including what you ate and suddenly
felt within himself a small spark of defiance. It had been ages since he had
eaten biryani, so why not try today? His work as a cyber-security consultant
had its advantages, occasionally he came across online posts on contraband
availability. He had recently seen one such post on biryani being available at a
nearby city called Ambur, clandestinely. The thought of tasting biryani after
ten years made him light headed reckless and strangely rebellious. He decided
to head out to Ambur in his lunch break and see if it was authentic biriyani
made of non-vegetarian mutton. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Once he had made up his mind, he surreptitiously
opened up the old post he had flagged with the number of the biryani shop and
noting it down walked down to the rest room and made the call. A voice on the other
end gave him his instructions to take a cab and be in ambur central by 30 mins.
So he went back to his cubicle to wind down his work and filled out the form
for his lunch break and forwarded it to his superior who Okayed it and allowed
him to go out and eat. Once outside his workplace he flagged down a cab for the
ten minute ride to ambur. Once there he stood looking around for five minutes
till a shady looking character sidled up to him and said “are you the one who
called for the biryani?” when he affirmed that it was indeed him, the shady guy
asked “do you have any identification to show you are not from the anti-non veg
squad ”? when he had shown the man his aadhar card and had assured him that he
was indeed a legitimate customer if a bit kinky who just craved meat suddenly,
the tout invited him into a vehicle and said “we will go in this vehicle to the
actual place, it’s just a few minutes away in vaniyambadi nearby, we don’t
advertise the actual locations for obvious reasons”. Fine, he said and went
along with him till they reached what looked like a prosperous little eatery
advertising “pure-veg food prepared exclusively by Brahmin hands” as he
hesitated on the steps, his contact smiled and said “don’t worry saar, we have
a special section upstairs” and hustled him into the eatery and up a small
flight of stairs to a dingy little hall upstairs where a small group of people
were looking around furtively as they ate the banned biriyani. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">As the smell of well-made
ambur mutton biryani wafted through his nostrils he leant back his head and
sniffed it to his heart’s content. And then a plate of it was placed before him
and he rolled up a morsel and popped it into his mouth. It was just the right
taste, hot, spicy and a little bit tangy as a proper biryani should be. The
accompanying side dish- again a banned item- chicken 65 – was crispy and fresh
and he took the time to savour a piece chewing it softly. It was while he was
in the midst of satisfying his long suppressed desires and on the way to
achieving food-nirvana that the police raided the small hotel and burst into
the hitherto secret room upstairs serving non veg food. A few patrons tried to
escape but they found that an entire platoon from the anti-non veg squad had
surrounded the place with orders to shoot on sight those trying to escape after
committing this heinous crime of eating non-vegetarian food in swaach bharat
country. The next day all those arrested for the crime of eating meat, a
hundred or so daily, were produced before a fast track court especially set up
to deal with such capital crimes and were summarily sentenced to death.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">As he
was strapped to the latest model koodankulam mark-4 type electric chair and the
electrodes placed on his chest to transmit the 10, 000 plus volts needed to fry
his heart to death instantaneously , he looked up and out at the cameras live
telecasting his death to the cowed millions watching the daily death show of
anti-nationals who defy the dictates of the supreme leader (and his storm
troopers) and smilingly said “tyranny comes in many forms and it’s not easy to
recognize it in its initial avatar. I should have protested when they banned
rupee notes, I should have protested when they made identity card carrying
compulsory, I should have protested when they banned my local language, I
should have protested when they made me, an individual, responsible for
everything the government should do. But I didn’t, not even when they told me
what to do, what to speak, how to live and even what to think. Well, it ends
today, one way or the other for me. For, it’s a far far better place I go to, a
place where no one will dictate what we should eat and as I go there with the
still lingering taste of biryani in my memory, i think my death is worth it” as
the lever was pulled and he was fried to death for desiring a biryani.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">P.S. if you think this is a bit
far-fetched, wait till the election results of the 2019 general elections. A
fair warning to all of you- please voluntarily convert yourselves to pure
vegetarians by then.</span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217618441904059968.post-15322125310299030482017-03-30T21:34:00.000+05:302017-03-30T21:38:54.146+05:30Validating Love And Other Misconceptions.<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Validating Love
And Other Misconceptions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2XjEKbixSWS9KQyqcYQodByNhbHf6WXBj8r9UvYgWlwHlB4TqVJ-gGqkxLuYm3gQFvB_mjZ5naKLwG0j1qrGe_w8qYAZyHlQUxdoql3wVytOQbP7Twqv0eIyAz2VpYlfumKEtsuNa9LU/s1600/love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2XjEKbixSWS9KQyqcYQodByNhbHf6WXBj8r9UvYgWlwHlB4TqVJ-gGqkxLuYm3gQFvB_mjZ5naKLwG0j1qrGe_w8qYAZyHlQUxdoql3wVytOQbP7Twqv0eIyAz2VpYlfumKEtsuNa9LU/s1600/love.jpg" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Ever since
the concept of Valentine’s Day, a day dedicated solely to love, started gaining
prominence in our conservative society there has been a lot of hue and cry made
over love. There have been anti-love groups, the so called Romeo squads roaming
around the cities trying to catch people who are making love to each other in public
spaces and in quid pro quo, the mushrooming
pro-love groups who have been trying to reclaim the public spaces for
private acts, in this case kissing in public to cock-a-snook at the guardians
of public morality who feel threatened by these lewd acts in public to which
children might get accidentally exposed and heaven forbid, grow up believing
that snogging in public is not anathema in our day to day life. Much as I
sympathize with those who have no immediate access to a private space to
conduct private business (I wouldn’t call the marina beach entirely private,
although it does offer some space) I am forced to agree with the guardians of
our morality and say “get a room guys” for some things are just too icky to be
done in public- wet slobbering kisses hidden under dupattas for instance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Which
brings me to the primary point of this post- who was the bright spark who
decided that love has to be celebrated with kissing? I would understand if valentine’s
day was a day declared as a kissing day and then people celebrated it by
kissing each other (and random strangers, if permitted) in public like they
supposedly do in Central Park, New York (disclaimer: the farthest I have been
to is Nanganallur, so I don’t actually have any evidence they do this in New
York, just hearsay from click bait news sites). But for a day dedicated to celebrating
love, why do you have to validate love by making kissing as a proof of concept?
This and other misconceptions on love are what I am going to discuss in my next
few thousand words, so if you are already feeling bored, go take a nap and come
back for the climax.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">In my
humble opinion (there- I said it, even though I believe that my opinion is
anything but humble) the crux of this entire problem lies in equating love with
marriage. With marriage and its
attendant burdens like chastity, fidelity, honesty etc. Love, independent love,
is fettered with chains by insisting on it being directed solely with the
purpose of gaining or retaining a mate. No longer does our society permit us to
love inanimate things (say a Bugatti Veyron) or cross-species love (your
favorite pet dog) or even love for nature- when you are captivated by a
beautiful sunset and just can’t turn away from the glorious sight of the sun
sinking slowly into the sea. But no, those are not claimed as love nowadays,
love means solely between man and woman geared towards marriage or sex. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">So let me
reiterate my point again –love is different, marriage is different and sex is
different. There is absolutely no natural link between these three- each can
exist quite well independently. Unfortunately our brains have been so brain
washed by society that pure love should end in a wedding that the very
definition of love has been split into “pure love” and “impure love”. The one
which ends up in shackling two people together in lifelong matrimony is
exclusively called pure love while others are termed illegal love. You are
supposed to fall in love only once in your lifetime. You are supposed to end up
marrying the person you fell in love with. And once when you are in love with
someone, you are forbidden to fall in or out of love with anyone else, even
accidentally. All these restrictions and rules have been framed to make sure
that “love stays pure”. Any deviation from these set rules is immediately
classified as crime against society.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">All this
constant moral harassment by society has made large swathes of our population
believe that this is indeed love. Love means writing love letters, sending
smiley’s on instant messengers, talking nonsense for hours together, hugging
each other, kissing each other, having sex with each other and finally marrying
each other. That’s the be-all and end-all of love. And this design includes a
happy ending- a love marriage. All the
above related activities- hugging, kissing, sex are considered the perks of
love and hence more and more people believe that this is what love is all
about. And that’s why they frown on any deviation from the set template –like
loving more than one person at the same time or loving one person while having
sex with another person etc. all of which are labeled as not pure love. Those
who believe in such drivel -that kissing or sex is equal to love will never
ever realize what love is all about. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">True love,
false love, pure love, impure love, legal love, illegal love- so many labels
for what is just a simple emotion- an expression of happiness that someone else
brings into our lives. In fact, you don’t even need the presence of anyone else
to experience love- just your thoughts and memories will suffice- a smile on
your face when you can recall that beautiful stranger you bumped into yesterday
at the supermarket is also love if you broaden the definition of love. Its love
when your dog rushes up to lick your face when you come home at the end of the
day. Its love even when you express your love to someone else and they turn you
down flat- that single second of suspense when your heart soars high in
anticipation- that too is love. Love is
just that- an emotion. Don’t make it into something it is not. Don’t hang too
many things on it. Don’t make it mandatory to end up in a wedding for it to be
love. Just let it be as it is and leave it to two people to decide how they
want it to be. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Finally I
would ask you to look up into the sky and tell me what you see- some will see
the long dark night sky with its infinite darkness. Some will see the stars
twinkling bright- scattered here and there. And some will see the full moon –
dominating the dark. Love is like that- for some it’s the darkness, for someone
else it’s the stars and for the lucky few it’s the bright silvery moon. Judge
not what each person sees- it’s their space so just leave them be. Thanks for a
patient reading- that’s if you got up to this point.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript"><!--
google_ad_client = "pub-3183994749820266";
google_ad_width = 468;
google_ad_height = 60;
google_ad_format = "468x60_as";
google_ad_type = "text_image";
google_ad_channel = "";
//-->
</script>
<script type="text/javascript"
src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js">
</script></div>Ganesh Puttuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13208083828467510958noreply@blogger.com2