Some of you will remember that I asked you in this space to vote for us when we applied to a contest to do some cross-country driving.
We did not get shortlisted, but a much better thing happened: Charu and Vamsi not only got shortlisted, but are also now one of the 12 teams vying for the final three spots.
So go take a look at their blog as they approach the final stages of the competition. Support them. Cheer them. Definitely, but definitely, sing Musafir Hoon Yaaron with them.
You are a musafir, right? So check 'em out.
July 31, 2009
July 24, 2009
Voting and lemoterians
Still on a little bit of a break from regular posting in this space. That close reading stuff I mentioned, it's not ended yet.
Meanwhile, how much truth do you see here? Thoughts welcome.
Part of what's in there reminded me of a recent exercise in voting that I watched. One candidate confessed to finding a way to submit "many" fake votes for himself, and then said this (I quote): "the organizers should find a way to stop / cut short people like me next time."
Another participant said (I quote again): "We’re not sure if this was wrong or not but we had asked all our friends to vote for us everyday from all their mail ids."
***
And of course, you've always wanted to read about Lemoterians and tennis courts.
Meanwhile, how much truth do you see here? Thoughts welcome.
Part of what's in there reminded me of a recent exercise in voting that I watched. One candidate confessed to finding a way to submit "many" fake votes for himself, and then said this (I quote): "the organizers should find a way to stop / cut short people like me next time."
Another participant said (I quote again): "We’re not sure if this was wrong or not but we had asked all our friends to vote for us everyday from all their mail ids."
And of course, you've always wanted to read about Lemoterians and tennis courts.
July 22, 2009
anna, not Anna
Our Judgement Free has a story about four annas (not Annas), five lights and a lawyer. Go take a look, here.
July 21, 2009
Slowdown, plus
One more slowdown in posting here, occasioned by some close reading I've got to do that's got me bleary-eyed. It may be a few days before I'm back to posting regularly here. But I'll try to keep posting travel stories big and small on Our Judgement Free.
Two there over the last 2-3 days: an accident in Ahmedabad, an accident in Austin.
***
On another note: our application that we asked you to vote for didn't make the 100-name shortlist, announced yesterday. Never mind, it was fun putting it all together! And we'll go travelling anyway soon-ish, I'm sure.
I'm truly delighted, though, that my friend Charu and her husband Vamsi were shortlisted (their application).
Postscript: Sorry, I almost forgot! To you who read about this contest here, and voted for us -- I think that probably includes KL, P, AR, D, RM, N, RS, S, AH, RBR, DM, GY, GT, AS, OaS, aT, JC -- to you, thanks!
Two there over the last 2-3 days: an accident in Ahmedabad, an accident in Austin.
On another note: our application that we asked you to vote for didn't make the 100-name shortlist, announced yesterday. Never mind, it was fun putting it all together! And we'll go travelling anyway soon-ish, I'm sure.
I'm truly delighted, though, that my friend Charu and her husband Vamsi were shortlisted (their application).
Postscript: Sorry, I almost forgot! To you who read about this contest here, and voted for us -- I think that probably includes KL, P, AR, D, RM, N, RS, S, AH, RBR, DM, GY, GT, AS, OaS, aT, JC -- to you, thanks!
July 18, 2009
More judgement
Still plugging ... Our Judgement Free has tales about football and phone booths in Srinagar, skinny-dipping in Tamil Nadu, a general's car in Sikkim and a right-angle town in Kentucky.
(And you might take a gander at the serious (ongoing?) discussion in the comments for my previous plug).
(And you might take a gander at the serious (ongoing?) discussion in the comments for my previous plug).
July 17, 2009
Our friend Savi
The Save Savita project shut down a few days ago. I've been trying to find out what happened. I've been trying to find out what this means for the cartoon character whose sexual escapades my government decided were "not in the best interest of the nation".
So far, I've drawn a blank. Anyone know what's up, please let me know.
So far, I've drawn a blank. Anyone know what's up, please let me know.
Soaking
Yesterday (July 15), I was asked to be on a panel at the National Gallery of Modern Art, to discuss the current exhibition there, SOAK: Mumbai in an Estuary. There is a book that goes with the exhibition, and the publishers sent me a copy only two days earlier, so I didn't have a lot of time to get thoroughly acquainted. (Incidentally, the book is priced at Rs 2500).
But I did the best I could, and there were about 60 people (!) to listen to the discussion, which turned out pretty lively. I was critical, and that led to some spirited back and forth with the authors of the book and the exhibition, the architects Anuradha Mathur and Dilip da Cunha. I'd like to commend them for being willing to listen and react to criticism. In particular, they corrected a misunderstanding I had about the "lens of resilience", mentioned below: da Cunha explained that it applied to the land, not people.
Here's what I said as a prelude to the freewheeling discussion.
***
It's been raining heavily in Bombay over the last few days. Not as heavily as on that day four years ago, but heavily enough that it's got folks scared. Should I send my child to school? Should I go to work? Will the flooding happen again?
And sure, enough people take the cautious answer to those questions, enough that in taking my son to school yesterday morning -- clearly, I'm not as cautious as I should be -- there was noticeably less traffic on the roads than on "normal" days. They are right to be cautious: the papers are filled with stories and pictures of flooded roads, stopped trains, walking commuters. I don't know if there has been substantial change to anything in the city since four years ago, to cope with heavy rains, but the scenes look familiar indeed.
People talk about the anger at the government after last November's terrorist attacks. They describe it as "unprecedented." How quickly we forget: the anger at the government after the July 2005 flood was just as fiercely felt. So many people got together to say they were fed up, to resolve to do something -- and yet, almost naturally, that anger dissipates and we are left with an unresponsive, unaccountable government. Like always.
And so we are reduced -- I use that word deliberately -- to circulating the email I am sure all of you got in May -- a list of the five especially high tides expected in June and July. Three of them next week. The BMC plans to close school on July 24th, the day of the highest high tide, and the message says we must "restrict our movements" and "certainly not take vehicles out"; we should tell people outside the city not to come here on those days.
Note that this is just a high tide warning, not a storm warning. For there is no forecaster who can predict rainfall, let alone two months ahead.
Yet this is a reminder of two things:
First, our pathetic state of mind. We are now running scared of, of all things, high tides. Which, even if they are record high tides, this city, this country, this world has known about for billions of years. What does it say for us that in 2009, our strategy to live with high tides during the monsoon is to "restrict our movements"?
Second, and yet, the utter simplicity, directness and approachability of this strategy. Here are the dates and times, says the email, so please take note, please take care. It may not be ideal, but it works, it will work next week, it will work every time.
The whole point of all this -- the memories of anger, the tide warnings, the apparent lack of any substantial change in our situation -- is that we are all ultimately looking for strategies to cope during heavy monsoon rains. Things we can do, things our government can do, things we can demand that our government to -- so that we feel safer and indeed drier in the monsoon.
And that's the spirit in which I started looking at SOAK. Yet I'm left baffled, and on various counts. Here's just a sample:
* What do colonial perceptions or misperceptions of Bombay as an island have to do with anything much? We are what we are, today and now. How do we live here?
* I understand the point that the boundary between sea and land might have been a fluid one once. Or indeed still: the line that's apparent in a satellite photograph from outer space is quite different when you zoom in and find greater detail, greater grain. Yet even so, we've had fishermen going out to fish from this area for centuries. Surely they know land from sea?
* The "lens of resilience" vs "lens of flood" cuts too close to a phrase I and many others are thoroughly sick of: the "spirit of the city". It only seems to cover up for monumental failures by those we charge to administer this city. It suggest that instead of demanding accountability, we live with mediocrity -- and celebrate that every now and then.
* There are just too many nice looking prettily patterned pages in this book, or panels in this exhibition, that tell me nothing. For an apparently serious look at this city and its development, that's inexcusable.
The best writing about this city shares a certain simplicity, a directness, a readability. Sort of like the city itself. But I try to read Soak and I'm, yes, baffled.
But I did the best I could, and there were about 60 people (!) to listen to the discussion, which turned out pretty lively. I was critical, and that led to some spirited back and forth with the authors of the book and the exhibition, the architects Anuradha Mathur and Dilip da Cunha. I'd like to commend them for being willing to listen and react to criticism. In particular, they corrected a misunderstanding I had about the "lens of resilience", mentioned below: da Cunha explained that it applied to the land, not people.
Here's what I said as a prelude to the freewheeling discussion.
It's been raining heavily in Bombay over the last few days. Not as heavily as on that day four years ago, but heavily enough that it's got folks scared. Should I send my child to school? Should I go to work? Will the flooding happen again?
And sure, enough people take the cautious answer to those questions, enough that in taking my son to school yesterday morning -- clearly, I'm not as cautious as I should be -- there was noticeably less traffic on the roads than on "normal" days. They are right to be cautious: the papers are filled with stories and pictures of flooded roads, stopped trains, walking commuters. I don't know if there has been substantial change to anything in the city since four years ago, to cope with heavy rains, but the scenes look familiar indeed.
People talk about the anger at the government after last November's terrorist attacks. They describe it as "unprecedented." How quickly we forget: the anger at the government after the July 2005 flood was just as fiercely felt. So many people got together to say they were fed up, to resolve to do something -- and yet, almost naturally, that anger dissipates and we are left with an unresponsive, unaccountable government. Like always.
And so we are reduced -- I use that word deliberately -- to circulating the email I am sure all of you got in May -- a list of the five especially high tides expected in June and July. Three of them next week. The BMC plans to close school on July 24th, the day of the highest high tide, and the message says we must "restrict our movements" and "certainly not take vehicles out"; we should tell people outside the city not to come here on those days.
Note that this is just a high tide warning, not a storm warning. For there is no forecaster who can predict rainfall, let alone two months ahead.
Yet this is a reminder of two things:
First, our pathetic state of mind. We are now running scared of, of all things, high tides. Which, even if they are record high tides, this city, this country, this world has known about for billions of years. What does it say for us that in 2009, our strategy to live with high tides during the monsoon is to "restrict our movements"?
Second, and yet, the utter simplicity, directness and approachability of this strategy. Here are the dates and times, says the email, so please take note, please take care. It may not be ideal, but it works, it will work next week, it will work every time.
The whole point of all this -- the memories of anger, the tide warnings, the apparent lack of any substantial change in our situation -- is that we are all ultimately looking for strategies to cope during heavy monsoon rains. Things we can do, things our government can do, things we can demand that our government to -- so that we feel safer and indeed drier in the monsoon.
And that's the spirit in which I started looking at SOAK. Yet I'm left baffled, and on various counts. Here's just a sample:
* What do colonial perceptions or misperceptions of Bombay as an island have to do with anything much? We are what we are, today and now. How do we live here?
* I understand the point that the boundary between sea and land might have been a fluid one once. Or indeed still: the line that's apparent in a satellite photograph from outer space is quite different when you zoom in and find greater detail, greater grain. Yet even so, we've had fishermen going out to fish from this area for centuries. Surely they know land from sea?
* The "lens of resilience" vs "lens of flood" cuts too close to a phrase I and many others are thoroughly sick of: the "spirit of the city". It only seems to cover up for monumental failures by those we charge to administer this city. It suggest that instead of demanding accountability, we live with mediocrity -- and celebrate that every now and then.
* There are just too many nice looking prettily patterned pages in this book, or panels in this exhibition, that tell me nothing. For an apparently serious look at this city and its development, that's inexcusable.
The best writing about this city shares a certain simplicity, a directness, a readability. Sort of like the city itself. But I try to read Soak and I'm, yes, baffled.
July 15, 2009
Judgement Free, again
On Our Judgement Free, there's stuff to read about monkeys and Mandela, underwear, crookedly smiling barbers, and the spring-cleaned desert.
Besides Dhule, Mahe, Santiago ...
Have fun, I insist.
(And here's a final entreaty to check here and, always assuming you like what you see, vote/say nice things about us).
Besides Dhule, Mahe, Santiago ...
Have fun, I insist.
(And here's a final entreaty to check here and, always assuming you like what you see, vote/say nice things about us).
July 14, 2009
Spell it out
Seen over the last couple of days:
1) On the back of a battered Toyota Qualis zipping down a suburban lane in my city, a blue and white bumper sticker: "Lester Spell, Commissioner of Agriculture".
Meaning, a sticker urging votes for this gentleman. After some minimal digging, I believe it's this Lester Spell from Mississippi.
I'm so glad he's campaigning in Bombay. Should ensure his re-election. I hope he's also distributed stickers in that other popular hangout of Mississippians, Ougadougou.
2) At the end of a report in the Hindustan Times (July 14) about the New Era School, this sentence: "The SC also asked the school to provide transport facility at a 'confessional rate' to students so that they are not inconvenienced."
Should be interesting, those students travelling to and from school in their buses, confessing as they go. My suggestion: save a salary, ask the priest to drive the bus too.
3) On a blue T-shirt on a young mother waiting for her children at a football field, a sketched egg and this device: "Just Got Laid!"
About says it all.
1) On the back of a battered Toyota Qualis zipping down a suburban lane in my city, a blue and white bumper sticker: "Lester Spell, Commissioner of Agriculture".
Meaning, a sticker urging votes for this gentleman. After some minimal digging, I believe it's this Lester Spell from Mississippi.
I'm so glad he's campaigning in Bombay. Should ensure his re-election. I hope he's also distributed stickers in that other popular hangout of Mississippians, Ougadougou.
2) At the end of a report in the Hindustan Times (July 14) about the New Era School, this sentence: "The SC also asked the school to provide transport facility at a 'confessional rate' to students so that they are not inconvenienced."
Should be interesting, those students travelling to and from school in their buses, confessing as they go. My suggestion: save a salary, ask the priest to drive the bus too.
3) On a blue T-shirt on a young mother waiting for her children at a football field, a sketched egg and this device: "Just Got Laid!"
About says it all.
Rolls on
The assault was shown repeatedly on national TV, with two of the main men even circled to identify them. A college professor died in the assault; watching on TV you could see he was near death, if not gone already.
Three years later, meaning yesterday, a court acquits all the accused, two of whom were those circled men.
A man died on national TV, and we are still unable to punish anyone.
Justice rolls on.
***
Postscript: You can see those circles -- i.e. clips from the original national TV broadcast -- during the post-verdict video segments available here.
Three years later, meaning yesterday, a court acquits all the accused, two of whom were those circled men.
A man died on national TV, and we are still unable to punish anyone.
Justice rolls on.
Postscript: You can see those circles -- i.e. clips from the original national TV broadcast -- during the post-verdict video segments available here.
July 13, 2009
Judgement free
Fair enough, I got off my butt to do this because of something else. But I have actually been thinking about it for months: a separate blog for stories from my (our) travels.
So may I present Our Judgement Free, set for your perusal. It kicks off with a story from Ahmedabad. Take a look. There'll be more going up there soon.
Oh, and "Our Judgement Free" is paraphrased from this Charles Dickens quote in his American Notes.
I dedicate this book to those friends of mine in America who, giving me a welcome I must ever gratefully and proudly remember, left my judgement free; and who, loving their country, can bear the truth when it is told good humouredly, and in a kind spirit.
(Thanks, among one or two others, to regular commenter Suresh for sending me this quote a few months ago).
***
Postscript: There are a few more posts there now: Dalhousie, Santiago, Mahe, Jaisalmer, Dhule. (Yes, Dhule).
So may I present Our Judgement Free, set for your perusal. It kicks off with a story from Ahmedabad. Take a look. There'll be more going up there soon.
Oh, and "Our Judgement Free" is paraphrased from this Charles Dickens quote in his American Notes.
I dedicate this book to those friends of mine in America who, giving me a welcome I must ever gratefully and proudly remember, left my judgement free; and who, loving their country, can bear the truth when it is told good humouredly, and in a kind spirit.
(Thanks, among one or two others, to regular commenter Suresh for sending me this quote a few months ago).
Postscript: There are a few more posts there now: Dalhousie, Santiago, Mahe, Jaisalmer, Dhule. (Yes, Dhule).
July 11, 2009
Atomic bombs
In late 1992, leading up to and during the worst violence and killing Bombay has ever seen, a city publication carried several editorials. Here are two excerpts from two of them.
"Which is this minority community? The Muslim traitors who partitioned the country and haven't allowed us to breathe ever since."
Bal Thackeray, Saamna editorial, December 5, 1992.
"Pakistan need not cross the borders and attack India. 250 million Muslims in India will stage an armed insurrection. They form one of Pakistan's seven atomic bombs."
Bal Thackeray, Saamna editorial, December 9, 1992.
Nearly seventeen years later, there's this news.
"Which is this minority community? The Muslim traitors who partitioned the country and haven't allowed us to breathe ever since."
Bal Thackeray, Saamna editorial, December 5, 1992.
"Pakistan need not cross the borders and attack India. 250 million Muslims in India will stage an armed insurrection. They form one of Pakistan's seven atomic bombs."
Bal Thackeray, Saamna editorial, December 9, 1992.
Nearly seventeen years later, there's this news.
July 10, 2009
He used a Corolla?
What is it about travel? Objectively, I've done a fair amount of it, to some truly interesting spots, via some fascinating means of transport. (Once: Me and our bus on a flimsy raft, and we pulled ourselves across a river using a wire strung from bank to bank. Next river, no wire, so we poled).
Yet nearly every day, I wake up feeling I haven't traveled enough, haven't seen enough of the world; feeling envious of guys who are trotting off to other truly interesting spots.
And the most recent set of guys I've felt that about are a gang of six, two fellow-graduates from my college though about 700 years junior to me. They are about a week away from getting into what looks like a seriously rickety Toyota Corolla and driving a route that -- as far as I can tell -- Changez Khan made famous a few centuries ago when he roared west out of Central Asia.
And I'm reading about them and doing my best to stop going green with envy. London to Mongolia in six weeks. I mean, I'd give plenty to be able to do that.
The two fellow BITSians are Arun Maharajan and Rajesh Thatha, and their team is the Rustics. Read more at their site; give a thought to donations as well.
And for sure, look at that Corolla and ask yourself: is that what Changez used?
***
Postscript July 13: Nope, the Corolla is old news. From "a romanian guy sitting in a caravan with an internet connection", they have bought themselves a Peugeot Partner, whatever that is.
All it needs to do is make it to Mongolia. Piece of cake.
Yet nearly every day, I wake up feeling I haven't traveled enough, haven't seen enough of the world; feeling envious of guys who are trotting off to other truly interesting spots.
And the most recent set of guys I've felt that about are a gang of six, two fellow-graduates from my college though about 700 years junior to me. They are about a week away from getting into what looks like a seriously rickety Toyota Corolla and driving a route that -- as far as I can tell -- Changez Khan made famous a few centuries ago when he roared west out of Central Asia.
And I'm reading about them and doing my best to stop going green with envy. London to Mongolia in six weeks. I mean, I'd give plenty to be able to do that.
The two fellow BITSians are Arun Maharajan and Rajesh Thatha, and their team is the Rustics. Read more at their site; give a thought to donations as well.
And for sure, look at that Corolla and ask yourself: is that what Changez used?
Postscript July 13: Nope, the Corolla is old news. From "a romanian guy sitting in a caravan with an internet connection", they have bought themselves a Peugeot Partner, whatever that is.
All it needs to do is make it to Mongolia. Piece of cake.
The phalanx
Nothing unites quite like ... homosexuality.
"Clerics from the Muslim, Christian, Jain and Sikh communities held a joint press conference to denounce the judgement, insisting that homosexuality was opposed to the laws of nature and the will of God ."
"With some Hindu leaders having already condemned the judgement and well-known yoga guru Swami Ramdev announcing his intention to contest it in court, the phalanx of religious opinion opposed to the verdict is complete."
("Clerics flay order, SC seeks govt opinion", Hindustan Times, July 10 2009)
A previous version of the report quotes the Jain cleric saying "Our views should be kept in mind when the government takes any stand on the judgement", and the Muslim cleric backing that with "The government should take our views seriously." (Apart from the claims of knowledge of the will of god).
Actually, why? Why should the government be interested in the views of these folks, let alone take them seriously?
All said and done, I like that word "phalanx". It sums up perfectly what we see here: a united effort to perpetuate prejudice.
"Clerics from the Muslim, Christian, Jain and Sikh communities held a joint press conference to denounce the judgement, insisting that homosexuality was opposed to the laws of nature and the will of God ."
"With some Hindu leaders having already condemned the judgement and well-known yoga guru Swami Ramdev announcing his intention to contest it in court, the phalanx of religious opinion opposed to the verdict is complete."
("Clerics flay order, SC seeks govt opinion", Hindustan Times, July 10 2009)
A previous version of the report quotes the Jain cleric saying "Our views should be kept in mind when the government takes any stand on the judgement", and the Muslim cleric backing that with "The government should take our views seriously." (Apart from the claims of knowledge of the will of god).
Actually, why? Why should the government be interested in the views of these folks, let alone take them seriously?
All said and done, I like that word "phalanx". It sums up perfectly what we see here: a united effort to perpetuate prejudice.
July 09, 2009
Best interest
Some time last week, I learned that the government had finally taken action over something that was deemed to be "not in the best interest of the nation".
This was good news.
I mean, just for one example that worries me, there's bunches of Indian terrorists who have never been punished for their killing. Seems to me leaving them unpunished is "not in the best interest of the nation."
Or for another example, there's the pitiful state of so many primary schools across the country, which has condemned generations of Indian kids to a pitiful education. Seems to me that vast human waste is "not in the best interest of the nation."
Or, for a third example, there's the way a stream of scams involving enormous amounts of money have come and gone with nobody held to account for them. I mean, try this list: Bofors, havala, stock scam, cash in bedsheets, coffin scam, fodder scam, urea scam, St Kitt's forgery case, housing scam, LPG allotment scam, Bombay open space rental scam. (Bet you don't even remember some of those). Seems to me that simply forgetting that public servants have cheated people they serve of great sums is "not in the best interest of the nation."
So yes, I was encouraged to learn that the government had taken this action. No doubt it concerned one of the issues listed above?
Better: the action concerned a cartoon character and her sexual escapades.
Yes, the government banned Savita Bhabhi, for "anything that is not in the best interest of the nation can be banned."
I feel safer, less cheated and possibly more educated already. Not to mention freer, because doesn't banning stuff make us freer? (My government at work, all over again). Of course I should not bother with the effort to Save Savita. Neither should you, so you can safely ignore this Save Savita link.
After all, don't you feel safer, less cheated and possibly more educated as well? Freer too?
***
I also wanted to point out that there's no irony at all in the fact that this ban on the sex life of a cartoon character happened at about the same time as the Delhi Court ruled that sex between consenting adults, in pretty much most forms, cannot be termed illegal.
No irony. And ignore this Save Savita link too.
This was good news.
I mean, just for one example that worries me, there's bunches of Indian terrorists who have never been punished for their killing. Seems to me leaving them unpunished is "not in the best interest of the nation."
Or for another example, there's the pitiful state of so many primary schools across the country, which has condemned generations of Indian kids to a pitiful education. Seems to me that vast human waste is "not in the best interest of the nation."
Or, for a third example, there's the way a stream of scams involving enormous amounts of money have come and gone with nobody held to account for them. I mean, try this list: Bofors, havala, stock scam, cash in bedsheets, coffin scam, fodder scam, urea scam, St Kitt's forgery case, housing scam, LPG allotment scam, Bombay open space rental scam. (Bet you don't even remember some of those). Seems to me that simply forgetting that public servants have cheated people they serve of great sums is "not in the best interest of the nation."
So yes, I was encouraged to learn that the government had taken this action. No doubt it concerned one of the issues listed above?
Better: the action concerned a cartoon character and her sexual escapades.
Yes, the government banned Savita Bhabhi, for "anything that is not in the best interest of the nation can be banned."
I feel safer, less cheated and possibly more educated already. Not to mention freer, because doesn't banning stuff make us freer? (My government at work, all over again). Of course I should not bother with the effort to Save Savita. Neither should you, so you can safely ignore this Save Savita link.
After all, don't you feel safer, less cheated and possibly more educated as well? Freer too?
I also wanted to point out that there's no irony at all in the fact that this ban on the sex life of a cartoon character happened at about the same time as the Delhi Court ruled that sex between consenting adults, in pretty much most forms, cannot be termed illegal.
No irony. And ignore this Save Savita link too.
She belongs to
"She belongs to a lower caste, which is aggressive by nature, and she wouldn't have submitted herself so easily. They are known for being aggressive."
Such was the argument made in court by one Shrikant Shivde, lawyer for Shiney Ahuja, Bollywood actor arrested on charges of rape. "She", of course, refers to the victim. (Thanks to Jai for the pointer, in a comment here).
The nauseating nature of this remark reminded me of this other one that came my way, from three years ago:
"its not our fault if the backwards (well most of them) dont value education."
(made here).
What I was prompted to reply then applies equally to Shivde's observation: remarks like these, the attitudes they speak of, make the case for reservations better than most of its proponents would.
***
Apart from that, I've had it up to here with the argument -- often made in such cases, or mentioned by the police while arresting a thief -- that the accused is from a "good family" (for example).
(Alternate formulations: "respectable family", "decent middle-class family", "good respectable excellent wonderful army background decent god-fearing middle-class family" -- mix and match as you please).
Just what is this supposed to mean? "Good families" don't produce criminals? "Middle-class families" don't produce criminals? "Army background" or "god-fearing" automatically implies innocence?
I can easily think of examples that undermine all those claims, and so can you. I hope someday there will be a judge in a court who will cut through such phrases and say, politely, "The defendant is on trial, not his family. So I don't want to hear any more about them."
Such was the argument made in court by one Shrikant Shivde, lawyer for Shiney Ahuja, Bollywood actor arrested on charges of rape. "She", of course, refers to the victim. (Thanks to Jai for the pointer, in a comment here).
The nauseating nature of this remark reminded me of this other one that came my way, from three years ago:
"its not our fault if the backwards (well most of them) dont value education."
(made here).
What I was prompted to reply then applies equally to Shivde's observation: remarks like these, the attitudes they speak of, make the case for reservations better than most of its proponents would.
Apart from that, I've had it up to here with the argument -- often made in such cases, or mentioned by the police while arresting a thief -- that the accused is from a "good family" (for example).
(Alternate formulations: "respectable family", "decent middle-class family", "good respectable excellent wonderful army background decent god-fearing middle-class family" -- mix and match as you please).
Just what is this supposed to mean? "Good families" don't produce criminals? "Middle-class families" don't produce criminals? "Army background" or "god-fearing" automatically implies innocence?
I can easily think of examples that undermine all those claims, and so can you. I hope someday there will be a judge in a court who will cut through such phrases and say, politely, "The defendant is on trial, not his family. So I don't want to hear any more about them."
July 08, 2009
On the road, maybe
All right folks.
If you like what you see here -- and for now, it is a work in progress -- please vote and/or file some nice things about us. Much gratitude will flow your way.
If, on the other hand, you don't like what you see there, please vote and/or file some nice things about us. Much gratitude will still flow your way.
If you like what you see here -- and for now, it is a work in progress -- please vote and/or file some nice things about us. Much gratitude will flow your way.
If, on the other hand, you don't like what you see there, please vote and/or file some nice things about us. Much gratitude will still flow your way.
July 06, 2009
For whom the toll isn't
Bombay's municipal corporators are demanding an exemption from paying the toll on the new Bandra-Worli Sealink.
Therefore, in addition to the "No Bullock Carts" sign at one end of the bridge, I fully expect we will soon see near the toll plaza a large sign like the large sign in this photograph, familiar to anyone who has travelled India's highways. With the important additional specification, of course, that municipal corporators are exempt from paying the toll.
To save you from squinting, here's the full text from the sign:
A) LIST OF TOLL FEE EXEMPTED VECHICLES
I) DEFENCE VEHICLES
II) POLICE VEHICLES
III) VEHICLE WITH VIP SYMBOLS
IV) FIRE FIGHTING VEHICLES
V) AMBULANCES
VI) FUNERAL VANS
VII) POST AND TELEGRAPH DEPARTMENT'S VEHICLES
VIII) CENTRAL AND STATE GOVERNMENT VEHICLES ON DUTY
THE FOLLOWING VEHICLES SHALL BE DEEMED TO BE HAVING "VIP" SYMBOLS OR OFFICIALLY EXEMPTED VEHICLES.
A) HAVING "VIP" SYMBOLS, OR OFFICIALLY BELONGING TO:
a) PRESIDENT OF INDIA
b) VICE PRESIDENT OF INDIA
c) GOVERNOR OF A STATE OR LT. GOVERNOR OF A UNION TERRITORY
d) A FOREIGN DIGNITARY ON STATE VISIT TO INDIA
e) A FOREIGN DIPLOMAT STATIONED IN INDIA USING CARS WITH "CD" / "CC" NUMBER PLATES
f) CHAIRMAN OF RAJYA SABHA OR SPEAKER OF LOK SABHA OR CHAIRMAN OF A STATE LEGISLATIVE COUNCIL OR SPEAKER OF A STATE LEGISLATIVE ASSEMBLY OR A MINISTER FOR THE UNION OR STATE, OR LEADERS OF OPPOSITION IN LOK SABHA OR RAJYA SABHA OR STATE LEGISLATURES HAVING THE STATUS OF CABINET MINISTER, IF HE IS SITTING IN THE VEHICLE; OR
g) A MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT, IN THE ENTIRE COUNTRY, OR A MEMBER OF LEGISLATIVE ASSEMBLY OF A STATE OR A MEMBER OF LEGISLATIVE COUNCIL OF A STATE, IN THE RESPECTIVE STATE, IF HE PRODUCES HIS IDENTITY CARD ISSUED BY THE PARLIAMENT OR CONCERNED LEGISLATURE OF A STATE, AS THE CASE MAY BE
B) BELONGING TO WINNER OF GALLANTRY AWARDS SUCH AS PARAM VIR CHAKRA, ASHOK CHAKRA, MAHA VIR CHAKRA, KIRTI CHAKRA, VIR CHAKRA AND SHAURYA CHAKRA, IF SUCH AWARDEE PRODUCES HIS PHOTO IDENTITY CARD DULY AUTHENTICATED BY THE COMPETENT AUTHORITY FOR SUCH AWARD.
As you can see, among other things such boards lead you into some nice little conundrums.
For example: Your vehicle is exempt from the toll if it has "VIP Symbols" (First Clause A, Section III, at the top). Well, then we need to define what a vehicle having VIP symbols means. Right? OK! So the second Clause A, middle of the board, spells that out succinctly indeed -- it's one "having VIP symbols."
Got that? A vehicle that has VIP symbols is defined as a vehicle that has VIP symbols.
For the life of me, I can't figure out why some smart entrepreneur hasn't started a business making and selling VIP symbols. Whatever those are.
Perhaps we can get our corporators to figure that out.
Therefore, in addition to the "No Bullock Carts" sign at one end of the bridge, I fully expect we will soon see near the toll plaza a large sign like the large sign in this photograph, familiar to anyone who has travelled India's highways. With the important additional specification, of course, that municipal corporators are exempt from paying the toll.To save you from squinting, here's the full text from the sign:
A) LIST OF TOLL FEE EXEMPTED VECHICLES
I) DEFENCE VEHICLES
II) POLICE VEHICLES
III) VEHICLE WITH VIP SYMBOLS
IV) FIRE FIGHTING VEHICLES
V) AMBULANCES
VI) FUNERAL VANS
VII) POST AND TELEGRAPH DEPARTMENT'S VEHICLES
VIII) CENTRAL AND STATE GOVERNMENT VEHICLES ON DUTY
THE FOLLOWING VEHICLES SHALL BE DEEMED TO BE HAVING "VIP" SYMBOLS OR OFFICIALLY EXEMPTED VEHICLES.
A) HAVING "VIP" SYMBOLS, OR OFFICIALLY BELONGING TO:
a) PRESIDENT OF INDIA
b) VICE PRESIDENT OF INDIA
c) GOVERNOR OF A STATE OR LT. GOVERNOR OF A UNION TERRITORY
d) A FOREIGN DIGNITARY ON STATE VISIT TO INDIA
e) A FOREIGN DIPLOMAT STATIONED IN INDIA USING CARS WITH "CD" / "CC" NUMBER PLATES
f) CHAIRMAN OF RAJYA SABHA OR SPEAKER OF LOK SABHA OR CHAIRMAN OF A STATE LEGISLATIVE COUNCIL OR SPEAKER OF A STATE LEGISLATIVE ASSEMBLY OR A MINISTER FOR THE UNION OR STATE, OR LEADERS OF OPPOSITION IN LOK SABHA OR RAJYA SABHA OR STATE LEGISLATURES HAVING THE STATUS OF CABINET MINISTER, IF HE IS SITTING IN THE VEHICLE; OR
g) A MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT, IN THE ENTIRE COUNTRY, OR A MEMBER OF LEGISLATIVE ASSEMBLY OF A STATE OR A MEMBER OF LEGISLATIVE COUNCIL OF A STATE, IN THE RESPECTIVE STATE, IF HE PRODUCES HIS IDENTITY CARD ISSUED BY THE PARLIAMENT OR CONCERNED LEGISLATURE OF A STATE, AS THE CASE MAY BE
B) BELONGING TO WINNER OF GALLANTRY AWARDS SUCH AS PARAM VIR CHAKRA, ASHOK CHAKRA, MAHA VIR CHAKRA, KIRTI CHAKRA, VIR CHAKRA AND SHAURYA CHAKRA, IF SUCH AWARDEE PRODUCES HIS PHOTO IDENTITY CARD DULY AUTHENTICATED BY THE COMPETENT AUTHORITY FOR SUCH AWARD.
As you can see, among other things such boards lead you into some nice little conundrums.
For example: Your vehicle is exempt from the toll if it has "VIP Symbols" (First Clause A, Section III, at the top). Well, then we need to define what a vehicle having VIP symbols means. Right? OK! So the second Clause A, middle of the board, spells that out succinctly indeed -- it's one "having VIP symbols."
Got that? A vehicle that has VIP symbols is defined as a vehicle that has VIP symbols.
For the life of me, I can't figure out why some smart entrepreneur hasn't started a business making and selling VIP symbols. Whatever those are.
Perhaps we can get our corporators to figure that out.
Twins?
Take a look at, for example, this photograph, then this one.
Or this one, and then the sunset picture that will show up as part of the sequence on the right of this page (don't know how to extract the individual shots).
Twins, lost at birth?
Or this one, and then the sunset picture that will show up as part of the sequence on the right of this page (don't know how to extract the individual shots).
Twins, lost at birth?
Deserts of the Heart
With the title "Deserts of the Heart", this essay I wrote is in the current issue of Open magazine. (Some of what's in it has been in this space before, though not this version).
Comments welcome.
***
There were times, trudging across Madagascar's Masoala peninsula, that my eyes would brim over.
My straps cut grooves in my shoulders; my thighs screamed for relief. Socks like sandpaper, they left my soles so raw that each step promised greater agony. Then the tears would flow, seemingly on their own. Tears of anger, frustration and pain. Without doubt, this was the hardest thing I had ever done. The tears mocked me and my romantic notions about this trip. And when I'd arrive at some tiny village at nightfall, I'd fall into an exhausted, dreamless sleep. Next day, pain again.
And yet, and yet ... when it was over, when I look back from years later, I know. Given the chance, I would leap to do it once more: sweating, hurting, weeping -- but trudging along just the same. Because I remember, too, what drove me. I remember the exhilaration.
I remember, like a precious gift.
I went to Masoala after several years feeling a vague and growing disquiet. Through school and university, I didn't do too badly, but not too well either: always, just enough to get by. At work, I was recognized for something one year; laid off the next; found another job, boom, just like that. Aimless that way, I muddled through five jobs in eight years. It just came easy.
Maybe too easy. Nothing in my life really pushed me; I wasn't pushing myself.
And that itself was getting me uneasy. Something inside murmured words I could ignore only so long: you're comfortable, but where's the passion? The excellence? The determination? Yes, where's the exhilaration?
I think that's why I found myself in Masoala: struggling 150 km across that remote peninsula on a demanding trek; alone like never before, loved ones at least oceans, and several days to the nearest telephone, away. Physically, emotionally, it was tougher than anything I had done in my life. But I craved this: find and surmount a challenge like none before; prove to myself that it didn't always have to be easy.
I had to exorcise, once and for all, that unease.
It really did take me several years to understand what my hike across Masoala had done for me. And it all came into focus when I read John Krakauer's Into the Wild. In it, Krakauer traces what happened to Chris McCandless, a young man who disappeared after he graduated from Emory University in 1990. In 1992, McCandless was found dead in Alaska's Denali National Park.
It's an utterly compelling book, most of all because of the parallels Krakauer sees, in his own life, to McCandless's tragedy. Seeking to escape from the comfortable existence that might easily have been his, Krakauer had deliberately sought out dangerous, difficult challenges through his life. And at one point in Into the Wild, he writes:
"As a young man, I was unlike McCandless in many important regards. I possessed neither his intellect nor his lofty ideals ... [But] I suspect we had a similar intensity, a similar heedlessness, a similar agitation of the soul."
I brooded over those words for a long time, conscious of the chords they struck in me, memories of my Masoala trek churning through my mind. Now I was unlike either McCandless or Krakauer in many other important regards. I never did have the intensity or the heedlessness; nor the intellect and ideals. Hard as I found that trek to complete, it wasn't remotely as difficult or dangerous as the experiences McCandless and Krakauer had had.
For these reasons, I don't want to overdo the comparisons.
But I couldn't help making them. Into The Wild set off echoes in my mind of my travels in Madagascar, enough that the book affected me more than I thought possible. For I think I know what Krakauer meant when he wrote of the "agitation of the soul." I think I felt some of it too, before Madagascar and Masoala.
Through the gut-wrenching loneliness, I answered a lot of questions. Maybe I even proved myself, to myself. Yet here's the funny thing: I never have rid myself of the unease. Through the tears, I learned that it cannot, but should not, be quelled or exorcised. I understood how it would fling me into a challenge, drive me till I overcame it. I came to welcome unease, to appreciate how it fuels so much.
The agitation, the restlessness of the soul. Like an old buddy murmuring those words to me. After Masoala, I'm a believer.
Comments welcome.
There were times, trudging across Madagascar's Masoala peninsula, that my eyes would brim over.
My straps cut grooves in my shoulders; my thighs screamed for relief. Socks like sandpaper, they left my soles so raw that each step promised greater agony. Then the tears would flow, seemingly on their own. Tears of anger, frustration and pain. Without doubt, this was the hardest thing I had ever done. The tears mocked me and my romantic notions about this trip. And when I'd arrive at some tiny village at nightfall, I'd fall into an exhausted, dreamless sleep. Next day, pain again.
And yet, and yet ... when it was over, when I look back from years later, I know. Given the chance, I would leap to do it once more: sweating, hurting, weeping -- but trudging along just the same. Because I remember, too, what drove me. I remember the exhilaration.
I remember, like a precious gift.
I went to Masoala after several years feeling a vague and growing disquiet. Through school and university, I didn't do too badly, but not too well either: always, just enough to get by. At work, I was recognized for something one year; laid off the next; found another job, boom, just like that. Aimless that way, I muddled through five jobs in eight years. It just came easy.
Maybe too easy. Nothing in my life really pushed me; I wasn't pushing myself.
And that itself was getting me uneasy. Something inside murmured words I could ignore only so long: you're comfortable, but where's the passion? The excellence? The determination? Yes, where's the exhilaration?
I think that's why I found myself in Masoala: struggling 150 km across that remote peninsula on a demanding trek; alone like never before, loved ones at least oceans, and several days to the nearest telephone, away. Physically, emotionally, it was tougher than anything I had done in my life. But I craved this: find and surmount a challenge like none before; prove to myself that it didn't always have to be easy.
I had to exorcise, once and for all, that unease.
It really did take me several years to understand what my hike across Masoala had done for me. And it all came into focus when I read John Krakauer's Into the Wild. In it, Krakauer traces what happened to Chris McCandless, a young man who disappeared after he graduated from Emory University in 1990. In 1992, McCandless was found dead in Alaska's Denali National Park.
It's an utterly compelling book, most of all because of the parallels Krakauer sees, in his own life, to McCandless's tragedy. Seeking to escape from the comfortable existence that might easily have been his, Krakauer had deliberately sought out dangerous, difficult challenges through his life. And at one point in Into the Wild, he writes:
"As a young man, I was unlike McCandless in many important regards. I possessed neither his intellect nor his lofty ideals ... [But] I suspect we had a similar intensity, a similar heedlessness, a similar agitation of the soul."
I brooded over those words for a long time, conscious of the chords they struck in me, memories of my Masoala trek churning through my mind. Now I was unlike either McCandless or Krakauer in many other important regards. I never did have the intensity or the heedlessness; nor the intellect and ideals. Hard as I found that trek to complete, it wasn't remotely as difficult or dangerous as the experiences McCandless and Krakauer had had.
For these reasons, I don't want to overdo the comparisons.
But I couldn't help making them. Into The Wild set off echoes in my mind of my travels in Madagascar, enough that the book affected me more than I thought possible. For I think I know what Krakauer meant when he wrote of the "agitation of the soul." I think I felt some of it too, before Madagascar and Masoala.
Through the gut-wrenching loneliness, I answered a lot of questions. Maybe I even proved myself, to myself. Yet here's the funny thing: I never have rid myself of the unease. Through the tears, I learned that it cannot, but should not, be quelled or exorcised. I understood how it would fling me into a challenge, drive me till I overcame it. I came to welcome unease, to appreciate how it fuels so much.
The agitation, the restlessness of the soul. Like an old buddy murmuring those words to me. After Masoala, I'm a believer.
Elevated the game
Roddick didn't deserve to lose this one. For msot of five sets, he looked the more solid, determined player. In the fifth especially, Federer seemed to be staying in front largely by virtue of a virtuoso ace-serving display. That, and the missed chance of the second set tiebreaker (what Roddick wouldn't give to have that backhand volley putaway back) and the couple of mistakes in the last game -- this much put Federer on top tonight. Like he himself said, it's a tragedy that someonehas to lose a game of tennis that's this magnificently played.
Roddick made many new fans, many new believers, with this match. When he gets over his devastation at losing this one, he will know that he can compete and beat the best, and this match, strangely enough, just underlines that. He and Fed elevated the game today.
Just an enthralling match.
Roddick made many new fans, many new believers, with this match. When he gets over his devastation at losing this one, he will know that he can compete and beat the best, and this match, strangely enough, just underlines that. He and Fed elevated the game today.
Just an enthralling match.
July 04, 2009
But how many carts?
Two final thoughts, or trains of thought, about the new Sealink.
1) I would like to know where else in the world you'd find a sign at a bridge that says "No Bullock Carts". Now you know why I wouldn't live anywhere else.
2) Apart from bullock-carts, buses and rickshaws and two-wheelers are not allowed on the Sealink. Which means it is a bridge designed pretty much only for cars.
There are something like 500,000 cars in Bombay. Say one to a family of 5 -- itself generous -- and you've got a bridge catering to 2.5 million Bombayites. Out of somewhere between 15 and 20 million who live here.
Or consider a back-of-the-envelope calculation. (What's below is taken largely, and lazily, from this post).
Three years ago, IIT-Bombay did a study concerning the Pedder Road flyover. The IIT team found that 60,000 cars use Pedder Road every day. Let's inflate that to 100,000 given the three years that have passed, and let's say all those cars use the BWSL. According to this report, each car carries an average of 1.75 people. In other words, cars on the Sealink are carrying 175,000 people a day.
Sound like a big number?
But how many trains pull into Churchgate? Assume they arrive within 4 minutes of each other on average. In an hour, that's 15 trains. (In a day, Western Railway alone runs 980 trains on its entire system, so 15 is actually an underestimate. Never mind). Each 12-car train is supposed to carry about 2200 people, though during rush hour, the load can reach 6000. (Figures extrapolated generously from 9-car train figures here). Let's take an average of 5000 per train in rush hour: that's 75,000 people arriving in Churchgate each hour. Broadly similar numbers for VT, so that's 150,000 people arriving downtown every hour.
What does the back of our envelope show? That in one hour during the morning rush hour, nearly as many people (150K) arrive in downtown Bombay by train than travel both ways (175K) by car on BWSL all day.
This does not take into account bus traffic, which will change this comparison substantially. But this point remains valid: far more commuters in Bombay travel by rail than by car. In fact, the Mumbai Metropolitan Region Development Authority estimates that 88 per cent of this city's commuters travel by trains and buses. Nobody from that 88 per cent is using the BWSL.
Look at all these figures: 2.5 million out of 15m; 150K/hr vs 175K/day; 88% percent of commuters not in cars -- look at them and at nothing else about the BWSL, and you still have to wonder. In what sense does this new bridge address the commuting headaches of Bombay's residents?
Maybe I'll take the bullock cart ...
1) I would like to know where else in the world you'd find a sign at a bridge that says "No Bullock Carts". Now you know why I wouldn't live anywhere else.
2) Apart from bullock-carts, buses and rickshaws and two-wheelers are not allowed on the Sealink. Which means it is a bridge designed pretty much only for cars.
There are something like 500,000 cars in Bombay. Say one to a family of 5 -- itself generous -- and you've got a bridge catering to 2.5 million Bombayites. Out of somewhere between 15 and 20 million who live here.
Or consider a back-of-the-envelope calculation. (What's below is taken largely, and lazily, from this post).
Three years ago, IIT-Bombay did a study concerning the Pedder Road flyover. The IIT team found that 60,000 cars use Pedder Road every day. Let's inflate that to 100,000 given the three years that have passed, and let's say all those cars use the BWSL. According to this report, each car carries an average of 1.75 people. In other words, cars on the Sealink are carrying 175,000 people a day.
Sound like a big number?
But how many trains pull into Churchgate? Assume they arrive within 4 minutes of each other on average. In an hour, that's 15 trains. (In a day, Western Railway alone runs 980 trains on its entire system, so 15 is actually an underestimate. Never mind). Each 12-car train is supposed to carry about 2200 people, though during rush hour, the load can reach 6000. (Figures extrapolated generously from 9-car train figures here). Let's take an average of 5000 per train in rush hour: that's 75,000 people arriving in Churchgate each hour. Broadly similar numbers for VT, so that's 150,000 people arriving downtown every hour.
What does the back of our envelope show? That in one hour during the morning rush hour, nearly as many people (150K) arrive in downtown Bombay by train than travel both ways (175K) by car on BWSL all day.
This does not take into account bus traffic, which will change this comparison substantially. But this point remains valid: far more commuters in Bombay travel by rail than by car. In fact, the Mumbai Metropolitan Region Development Authority estimates that 88 per cent of this city's commuters travel by trains and buses. Nobody from that 88 per cent is using the BWSL.
Look at all these figures: 2.5 million out of 15m; 150K/hr vs 175K/day; 88% percent of commuters not in cars -- look at them and at nothing else about the BWSL, and you still have to wonder. In what sense does this new bridge address the commuting headaches of Bombay's residents?
Maybe I'll take the bullock cart ...
Sealinked
Impressions of a first trip using the Bandra-Worli Sealink on Friday night.
1) It's a simply beautiful bridge. No question. Especially with the slight drizzle and the lights picking out the raindrops, the white cables stretching skywards at ever-steeper angles as we drove, the imposing height of the main towers.
2) Left home 10pm, used Sealink, reached destination in Grant Road 1050pm. Left Grant Road 1103pm, used Tulsi Pipe Road (i.e. not the Sealink), got home 1135pm.
50 minutes using the Sealink, 32 minutes not using it.
3) Enormous traffic jam entering Sealink at Bandra end, both at about 1010 when we got on, and at 1130 when we neared it on our return. I mean, on our return we could see the traffic backed up till across Mahim Creek: easily a couple of km before the bridge.
4) Time on Sealink itself: 25 minutes.
5) Worli seaface exit is just crazy. I'm repeating myself, but to go south, you turn north off the bridge and drive to the next roundabout. Three choices there.
* Go pretty much straight to continue towards the northern parts of the city. Predictably, only a few cars took that route (why would you take the Sealink south to Worli only to head back north?).
* Take the 135-degree turn onto Pochkhanawala Road to go south. This relatively narrow road will carry pretty much all the morning rush-hour traffic off the bridge.
* Take the 180-degree turn to proceed south, this along Worli Seaface. We took this. But this one is closed between 830am and 1130am, i.e. during the morning rush-hour.
6) Plenty of people, at both ends of the bridge and on it, trying to make U-turns. Messes up traffic no end, but they didn't seem too concerned.
More in the next post.
1) It's a simply beautiful bridge. No question. Especially with the slight drizzle and the lights picking out the raindrops, the white cables stretching skywards at ever-steeper angles as we drove, the imposing height of the main towers.
2) Left home 10pm, used Sealink, reached destination in Grant Road 1050pm. Left Grant Road 1103pm, used Tulsi Pipe Road (i.e. not the Sealink), got home 1135pm.
50 minutes using the Sealink, 32 minutes not using it.
3) Enormous traffic jam entering Sealink at Bandra end, both at about 1010 when we got on, and at 1130 when we neared it on our return. I mean, on our return we could see the traffic backed up till across Mahim Creek: easily a couple of km before the bridge.
4) Time on Sealink itself: 25 minutes.
5) Worli seaface exit is just crazy. I'm repeating myself, but to go south, you turn north off the bridge and drive to the next roundabout. Three choices there.
* Go pretty much straight to continue towards the northern parts of the city. Predictably, only a few cars took that route (why would you take the Sealink south to Worli only to head back north?).
* Take the 135-degree turn onto Pochkhanawala Road to go south. This relatively narrow road will carry pretty much all the morning rush-hour traffic off the bridge.
* Take the 180-degree turn to proceed south, this along Worli Seaface. We took this. But this one is closed between 830am and 1130am, i.e. during the morning rush-hour.
6) Plenty of people, at both ends of the bridge and on it, trying to make U-turns. Messes up traffic no end, but they didn't seem too concerned.
More in the next post.
July 03, 2009
What's salient
Bangalore's Garden City College has an ad in the Hindustan Times today July 3. In large font-ed banners at the top, the ad says "4th Best College in Bangalore" and "24th Best College in India".
No indication anywhere in the ad of who gave them those rankings, but never mind that.
On the bottom left of the ad is a black box with this title: "SALIENT FEATURES".
In that box are such features as "Excellent, most hygenic [sic] hostels separately for boys & girls", and "Largest library / Hi-tech auditorium".
Pretty routine. Then I come upon the last of those salient features, and here it is:
"Maximum students from North India in previous batches."
Just what this means is unclear. (The college in Bangalore with the maximum number of North Indian students? More North Indian than South, or West, or East Indian students in previous batches? etc).
But that apart, what puzzles me is, why is this a "SALIENT FEATURE"?
Is it likely that a prospective student is going to pore over this ad, stumble across this particular salient feature and instantly say to himself: "Well golly and by gum, that's the college I'm going to!"
No indication anywhere in the ad of who gave them those rankings, but never mind that.
On the bottom left of the ad is a black box with this title: "SALIENT FEATURES".
In that box are such features as "Excellent, most hygenic [sic] hostels separately for boys & girls", and "Largest library / Hi-tech auditorium".
Pretty routine. Then I come upon the last of those salient features, and here it is:
"Maximum students from North India in previous batches."
Just what this means is unclear. (The college in Bangalore with the maximum number of North Indian students? More North Indian than South, or West, or East Indian students in previous batches? etc).
But that apart, what puzzles me is, why is this a "SALIENT FEATURE"?
Is it likely that a prospective student is going to pore over this ad, stumble across this particular salient feature and instantly say to himself: "Well golly and by gum, that's the college I'm going to!"
More on 377
A few more thoughts on yesterday's Delhi HC ruling on Section 377:
As far as I can tell, Celina Jaitley is the one Bollywood personality who has spoken out -- firmly and consistently -- in favour of overturning 377. In today's Hindustan Times Cafe, for example, she says:
"With great pride and tears I congratulate the LGBT community. Homosexuality is now legal. Our long battle is won and the community can now walk with their heads held high."
Her use of that word "our" is especially moving.
I don't know Celina Jaitley, but this looks like her blog. Please go there and thank her for her courage and humanity.
***
As my friend Pankaj points out in a comment, I'm mentioned in the judgement. The judges used my book Branded by Law, which is about ex-"criminal" tribes, for this Jawaharlal Nehru quote:
"I am aware of the monstrous provisions of the Criminal Tribes Act which constitute a negation of civil liberty ... an attempt should be made to have the Act removed from the statute book. No tribe can be classed as criminal as such and the whole principle as such is out of consonance with civilized principles of criminal justice and treatment of offenders."
There's a clear parallel between the 1871 CT Act, which defined you as criminal if you were born into one of several communities named in the Act, and Section 377, which defined you as criminal if you were born with a certain sexual orientation.
***
As always, the very idea of homosexuality produces some odd bedfellows indeed: meaning, it brings together groups you would never expect to give each other the time of day. For example, the Jamat-E-Islami-Hind, the Catholic Secular Forum and the Hindu Jana Jagriti Sangh. See their remarks here.
Yep, these guardians of some faith would have you believe that, among other dread things, homosexuality is "harmful to humanity", it "would lead to an explosion in the population of HIV-infected people" and it is "unethical, unnatural, unspiritual." (Respectively).
And by saying those things, these guardians of some faith demonstrate to the world that they have no understanding of HIV or sexuality, let alone compassion or faith or humanity.
***
Postscript: Text of the judgement available here, or try the "Full Text of Delhi HC judgement" link here (PDF, 400K; second link downloads it as a CMS file, rename with PDF extension and it's readable).
As far as I can tell, Celina Jaitley is the one Bollywood personality who has spoken out -- firmly and consistently -- in favour of overturning 377. In today's Hindustan Times Cafe, for example, she says:
"With great pride and tears I congratulate the LGBT community. Homosexuality is now legal. Our long battle is won and the community can now walk with their heads held high."
Her use of that word "our" is especially moving.
I don't know Celina Jaitley, but this looks like her blog. Please go there and thank her for her courage and humanity.
As my friend Pankaj points out in a comment, I'm mentioned in the judgement. The judges used my book Branded by Law, which is about ex-"criminal" tribes, for this Jawaharlal Nehru quote:
"I am aware of the monstrous provisions of the Criminal Tribes Act which constitute a negation of civil liberty ... an attempt should be made to have the Act removed from the statute book. No tribe can be classed as criminal as such and the whole principle as such is out of consonance with civilized principles of criminal justice and treatment of offenders."
There's a clear parallel between the 1871 CT Act, which defined you as criminal if you were born into one of several communities named in the Act, and Section 377, which defined you as criminal if you were born with a certain sexual orientation.
As always, the very idea of homosexuality produces some odd bedfellows indeed: meaning, it brings together groups you would never expect to give each other the time of day. For example, the Jamat-E-Islami-Hind, the Catholic Secular Forum and the Hindu Jana Jagriti Sangh. See their remarks here.
Yep, these guardians of some faith would have you believe that, among other dread things, homosexuality is "harmful to humanity", it "would lead to an explosion in the population of HIV-infected people" and it is "unethical, unnatural, unspiritual." (Respectively).
And by saying those things, these guardians of some faith demonstrate to the world that they have no understanding of HIV or sexuality, let alone compassion or faith or humanity.
Postscript: Text of the judgement available here, or try the "Full Text of Delhi HC judgement" link here (PDF, 400K; second link downloads it as a CMS file, rename with PDF extension and it's readable).
July 02, 2009
377
In yesterday's Hindustan Times (July 1), I found a letter titled "Section 377 should stay", and this is what it said:
India has a rich cultural heritage, which has been preserved in spite of adverse criticism and numerous foreign invasions in the past. But when the law minister talks about revoking Section 377 of the IPC, which will decriminalise homosexuality, it sends out a wrong message to the international community. If the government has its way, the pride that we take in being different from Western countries will be lost forever. Homosexuality is unnatural, hideous and shouldn't be decriminalised.
RK Sharma
When I read this, I couldn't help wondering, is this representative of the thinking in the country as a whole? Does this mean that the whole effort to overturn Section 377 is doomed? Besides, is this person even aware that this is a law that was put on the books by one of those Western countries s/he thinks we are "different from"?
Well, the best news of I don't know how long is what transpired in the Delhi High Court today. The judges there did overturn Section 377. No longer are our gay brothers and sisters breaking the law by doing what the rest of us do with not even a thought of the law.
I don't know what kind of peculiar pride RK Sharma is talking about, but I'll tell you this: today I feel a great pride in my country. Today gives reason for every Indian to celebrate. Today is our heritage, expressed in full measure.
(Some reactions here).
India has a rich cultural heritage, which has been preserved in spite of adverse criticism and numerous foreign invasions in the past. But when the law minister talks about revoking Section 377 of the IPC, which will decriminalise homosexuality, it sends out a wrong message to the international community. If the government has its way, the pride that we take in being different from Western countries will be lost forever. Homosexuality is unnatural, hideous and shouldn't be decriminalised.
RK Sharma
When I read this, I couldn't help wondering, is this representative of the thinking in the country as a whole? Does this mean that the whole effort to overturn Section 377 is doomed? Besides, is this person even aware that this is a law that was put on the books by one of those Western countries s/he thinks we are "different from"?
Well, the best news of I don't know how long is what transpired in the Delhi High Court today. The judges there did overturn Section 377. No longer are our gay brothers and sisters breaking the law by doing what the rest of us do with not even a thought of the law.
I don't know what kind of peculiar pride RK Sharma is talking about, but I'll tell you this: today I feel a great pride in my country. Today gives reason for every Indian to celebrate. Today is our heritage, expressed in full measure.
(Some reactions here).
On her behalf
Your government at work, bulletin #23998:
The Hindustan Times (July 2 2009) carries a tender notice from the Administration of Dadra and Nagar Haveli's Department of Social Welfare, in Silvassa.
The notice begins thus:
Sealed Tenders (two bid system) are hereby invited from the interested Manufacturers/Dealers/Suppliers, on behalf of President of India, for procurement of "Ladies Bicycle" ...
I don't know, I have this vision in my mind.
The Hindustan Times (July 2 2009) carries a tender notice from the Administration of Dadra and Nagar Haveli's Department of Social Welfare, in Silvassa.
The notice begins thus:
Sealed Tenders (two bid system) are hereby invited from the interested Manufacturers/Dealers/Suppliers, on behalf of President of India, for procurement of "Ladies Bicycle" ...
I don't know, I have this vision in my mind.
Speedbreaker, backstabbing and Einstein
A few more thoughts about the now-famous Bandra-Worli Sealink.
Several reports today (July 2) speak of the traffic jams on the bridge as soon as it was thrown open, and at the Worli end in particular. (One of those reports). Of course, some of this is due to people out to see the bridge on a joyride, not least because using it is free for another five days. Some of it was due to "a speed breaker at the Worli exit point", later removed.
Yet consider: What traffic planning went into the design of this Sealink if it cannot cope with people out for a joyride?
Besides, DCP (Traffic) Shahaji Solunkhe offered this: "We are hopeful that within a few days the volume of traffic would reduce."
What kind of planning for a major traffic route "hopes" for a reduction in traffic on its first day in operation?
And why was that speed breaker there anyway?
***
Of course there's now the political controversy about naming the bridge, complete with all the attendant foolishness.
To start, I couldn't agree more with the Shiv Sena's Subhash Desai, who asked: "Is it a rule that everything in this country has to be named after the Gandhi-Nehru family?"
Indeed.
Think of the conniptions people have to go through in this naming game. Sharad Pawar proposes that it be named after Rajiv Gandhi, of course that has nothing to do with the fact that he was sitting next to RG's widow at the time. Right.
But the same Pawar makes sure to mention that RG is a bhoomiputra, a son-of-the-soil (though you might ask what soil he means since the bridge snakes over the sea), given that he was born in Bombay and spent many years here. He does that in an entirely cynical move to take the wind out of the sails of the self-styled champions of the son-of-the-soil argument, Desai's own party.
Still, they did want it named after Veer Savarkar. Why is that a more suitable proposal for a name for this bridge? That's not clear, but Desai's party boss, Uddhav Thackeray, says (Hindustan Times, July 2) that by naming it after RG, "the government has backstabbed Maharashtra".
Makes you wonder. What is the greater benefit to Maharashtra? The Sealink? Or the name on the Sealink?
But of course, questions like that are meaningless to folks focused on naming things.
***
And yet, about names ... you also have to wonder.
Why not call it the Srinivasa Ramanujan Sealink, after the brilliant Indian mathematician who died too young?
Or the Rani Lakshmibai of Jhansi Sealink, after an uncommonly brave woman?
Or the Subramanyam Chandrashekhar Sealink, after the great astrophysicist who has a major astronomical phenomenon named for him?
Or the Albert Einstein Sealink, after a man whose genius and achievement transcended country and soil, indeed elevating all humanity?
Or the Emperor Ashoka Sealink, to honour one of the greatest monarchs in history?
Or the Bandra-Worli Sealink, because that's just what it is?
Several reports today (July 2) speak of the traffic jams on the bridge as soon as it was thrown open, and at the Worli end in particular. (One of those reports). Of course, some of this is due to people out to see the bridge on a joyride, not least because using it is free for another five days. Some of it was due to "a speed breaker at the Worli exit point", later removed.
Yet consider: What traffic planning went into the design of this Sealink if it cannot cope with people out for a joyride?
Besides, DCP (Traffic) Shahaji Solunkhe offered this: "We are hopeful that within a few days the volume of traffic would reduce."
What kind of planning for a major traffic route "hopes" for a reduction in traffic on its first day in operation?
And why was that speed breaker there anyway?
Of course there's now the political controversy about naming the bridge, complete with all the attendant foolishness.
To start, I couldn't agree more with the Shiv Sena's Subhash Desai, who asked: "Is it a rule that everything in this country has to be named after the Gandhi-Nehru family?"
Indeed.
Think of the conniptions people have to go through in this naming game. Sharad Pawar proposes that it be named after Rajiv Gandhi, of course that has nothing to do with the fact that he was sitting next to RG's widow at the time. Right.
But the same Pawar makes sure to mention that RG is a bhoomiputra, a son-of-the-soil (though you might ask what soil he means since the bridge snakes over the sea), given that he was born in Bombay and spent many years here. He does that in an entirely cynical move to take the wind out of the sails of the self-styled champions of the son-of-the-soil argument, Desai's own party.
Still, they did want it named after Veer Savarkar. Why is that a more suitable proposal for a name for this bridge? That's not clear, but Desai's party boss, Uddhav Thackeray, says (Hindustan Times, July 2) that by naming it after RG, "the government has backstabbed Maharashtra".
Makes you wonder. What is the greater benefit to Maharashtra? The Sealink? Or the name on the Sealink?
But of course, questions like that are meaningless to folks focused on naming things.
And yet, about names ... you also have to wonder.
Why not call it the Srinivasa Ramanujan Sealink, after the brilliant Indian mathematician who died too young?
Or the Rani Lakshmibai of Jhansi Sealink, after an uncommonly brave woman?
Or the Subramanyam Chandrashekhar Sealink, after the great astrophysicist who has a major astronomical phenomenon named for him?
Or the Albert Einstein Sealink, after a man whose genius and achievement transcended country and soil, indeed elevating all humanity?
Or the Emperor Ashoka Sealink, to honour one of the greatest monarchs in history?
Or the Bandra-Worli Sealink, because that's just what it is?
July 01, 2009
View point
Your Government at work serving you, bulletin #35618:
The Hindustan Times (June 30 2009) carries an item titled "One wait ends, another begins". It is about various proposed components of the Western Freeway Sealink in Bombay, of which the just-opened Bandra-Worli Sealink is just one.
In particular, it carries a couple of paras about the Haji Ali-Nariman Point Sealink, and they begin with these two sentences.
WHAT IT IS: 10.9-km bridge was supposed to be third and final part of Western Freeway. However, proposal was dropped as it could affect view of proposed mid-sea Shivaji memorial.
Serving you, I said. Don't forget.
The Hindustan Times (June 30 2009) carries an item titled "One wait ends, another begins". It is about various proposed components of the Western Freeway Sealink in Bombay, of which the just-opened Bandra-Worli Sealink is just one.
In particular, it carries a couple of paras about the Haji Ali-Nariman Point Sealink, and they begin with these two sentences.
WHAT IT IS: 10.9-km bridge was supposed to be third and final part of Western Freeway. However, proposal was dropped as it could affect view of proposed mid-sea Shivaji memorial.
Serving you, I said. Don't forget.
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