Desicritics Author: The Shiva

Where is The Line?

The Shiva — Sun, 14 Dec 2008 23:22:39 EST

OK, let me rephrase. Is there even a line. How should you react to these ghastly incidents that scar not only your psyche but also drive down that a deep hatred which seems to erupt in anonymity? What happened in Mumbai not only leaves us with questions about the relevance of Pakistan in our lives (as Indians) but also the relevance of the normal day Pakistani that you might bump into on the street. Why is there a shadow version of ourselves that tends to bring out the worst in us when hidden in a mob or a group, but as individuals we tend to think differently. I'm sure there must have been a million social experiments done to study this, but why is there no perfect solution to deal with this problem?

I've read and reread many articles on how to hurt Pakistan into waking up to reality without actually firing a single shot, the sort of Cold-War tactics used by the US to hurt a country where it really matters, economically, culturally or even psychologically. But the thing that's different with the Pakis is this deep rooted feeling of brotherhood some of us Indians feel in times of relative peace with our neighbor. I don't think its a religion thing, its more to do with us wanting to take a higher moral stand, of always wanting to be in peace even during times of pain, of utmost restraint, the same restraint that our Government keeps reminding us, the same restraint the Western World urges us to show. But is the price of restraint worth it?

These questions are meant to be asked because for some of us who arent in the crowd, the anger or restraint we show happens more at a personal level. I've had all these questions running through my mind, because as an Indian in the US, I feel the anger and yet I feel anonymous to the cause. How should I react? Should I even react? The day after the happenings in Mumbai, I was in a cab driven by yes, a Paki. I was with my colleagues, each one with their own immigrant stories but I couldnt expect them to understand how it made me feel sitting in that cab. I sat next to the driver, while he started talking to me about Bollywood and how Abhishek Bachchan and Aishwarya Rai were in his cab when they visited the city. I just smiled and said nothing, when inside me, all I could feel was the rage of being there. I knew my anger had nothing to do with him as a person, he was just a guy like me, trying to find his way through life. But all I could think of were the dollars I was going to pay him, which would in turn find its way to Pakistan maybe as a family remittance, and who knows might end up in the hands of the same group that sent people to destroy my brethren. After all they are all charities right? Maybe I was being simplistic about the whole thing, or maybe I wasn't.

These thoughts made my head spin that I had to ask my colleague for an aspirin in the car. She didn't have one, and so what happens next, yes you must have guessed it, Mr. Cabbie hands over a couple of aspirins and asks me to have it. I didnt know whether to feel relieved or even angrier. I just took the escapist route and fell asleep. The next day I left the hotel room, prepared for my presentation and guess what, my client was a Pakistani. I again, didn't know what to do. I had to be professional obviously, so I just kept it that way. No small talk, but we could feel the tension. What made the equation a bit skewed was us being three Indians to him being one. I couldn't find that surprising though, there are after all a billion of us in this world.

Though I always wonder what goes on inside the head of a Pakistani soon after these incidents. ( they do happen pretty often) there is one thing I have realized though with my countless experiences with my neighbors. One-on-One they are probably the nicest people in the world. Its when they become bigger than a group of 20, that you start hearing the commentary. In any case we went out for lunch which was more or less in silence except for one colleague of mine who was Chinese and couldn't help himself from talking. Though at some point, my Pakistani client did mention that his wife was from India. I again didnt know what to say. I just said, Great.

Great? Who says that.

Some of these questions do have answers. Like the way my friends decided not to go to a Pakistani owned theatre or a restaurant. Maybe it doesn't matter to the business, but it did matter as a set of principles for them. Like the way, my friend decided against buying a pair of gloves though they were perfect, just because they were made in Pakistan. Would it ever add up, I asked them. They said, they didn't care. Its the same petro-dollar argument new energy advocates use here. Less money for the Saudis, less money to blow us up.

They say you cant generalize. Not everyone belongs to the same mob. But isnt the reason we got to this point because we never had a coherent policy on what we should do. We need not hate, but do we need to love? Why shoot ourselves in the foot when almost 100,000 Indian soldiers have died in the Kashmir conflict and yet Atif Aslam signs record deals with Indian music companies. Yes, he didn't kill anyone and yes the soldiers may not have been killed by Pakistanis ( Afghans and Kashmiris also fought in that insurgency) but isn't it better to solve the leakage through one hole before opening up more taps? And note that I haven't even started talking about the religion aspect of this entire conflict.

In the end, I think, all of us are just trying to find our way out for ourselves. So that we need not be the ones making that crucial decision whether to cut the umbilical cord or not. In essence though, I think Pakistan has already done so, a long time ago.

That Saturday night, I ended up thinking what my friends said, on my long drive home through the rainy streets of San Jose. Each one made a passionate argument, not on how to deal with this situation, but how they would deal with a normal day Pakistani. To me, it sounded idealistic, because of my own recent interactions. But they made their case and said they would stand by it. I though could only see two sets of images in front of my eyes. One of the chaos on the streets of the city I would swear by any day and the other of me walking away from the cab, the minute I found out. The problem though, was, one happened and the other didn't.

Living An Unconstrained Life

The Shiva — Fri, 7 Sep 2007 02:17:03 EDT

The sound of the waves as they hit the rocks was probably the only thing that we could hear for miles. A foggy drive along California's northern coast in the twilight zone was the closest I've been to complete peace in a long time. When you keep driving as you attempt to leave the world you know behind, its exactly those thoughts that fill your mind again.

If the absence of light is darkness, then what is the absence of darkness?

It sure isn't light.

I work with numbers, with money, with bits, with ones and zeroes. Some can be big, some as tiny as the tenth of a percent. Most people begin to wonder, so whats the big deal, you add a one and you subtract a 10, you will get an answer.

The only tricky part is to get the right answer.

I work with optimization. For people unfamiliar with how optimization works, think of it as trying to solve an equation, find that one unique combination of variables that finally gives you the right answer and also are right themselves.

Which is what you have constraints for. Value 'A' cannot be greater than 10 and Value 'B' must always be decreasing for each run. Within the space of these constraints you have to find the best possible answer for your equation.

It need not be the right one. It just has to be closest to the right one. The only one possible.

Now every once in a while, I get frustrated with the process. Why go through the whole chicanery of trying to find something better when what you have is although not the exact right answer but close to it.

Why that additional effort?

John says because nothing else is right. Except for that one solution closest to the right one.

I've been here a few months and I've seen John work harder than many people in my earlier company put together. It has to be right, he says. I try to keep pace.

The effort he puts to get the constraints working and get everything else right cannot be believed unless seen.

But over lunch when he tells me about his life, on how he worked for his Ph.D., or how he has four kids, one girl and three boys and how he went through his divorce six years ago and when he tells me about his ex-wife, I just cannot help wondering how someone who can be passionate about the constraints in a math problem, can't control the constraints in his own life.

Or maybe its just an American thing, where life has to be experimented with absolutely no constraints, something that surprises and scares me a bit. He is possibly 45, now has a German girl friend and goes plays the piano every Wednesday at a club. He also tells me his daughter is now in Medical School, and what inspired her was working with the peace corps in Guatemala where she met and lived in with a doctor for a year (Indian, he notes, looking at me) and how they broke off soon after.

All constraints have gone to the dogs.

Which is something I don't think is worth comproming for me in real life. I dont really bother over a math problem. This is real life, not some joke. The effort you put in to make things work here, within the constraints of whats possible is what gets you to that perfect solution.

and I dont think you need a Ph.D. to understand that. All you need to be is sane.

Solving the World's Problems Through Soccer

The Shiva — Mon, 30 Jul 2007 05:55:51 EDT

It is impressive the way a war-torn nation can find itself once again, in the actions of 20-odd guys playing futbal in a faraway land. These are more like fairytales for guys, believable because they happened, surreal because they happened against these odds.

And the best part is, they keep on happening.

When the Ivory Coast played in the world cup last year, not many knew that the country had been in the middle of a civil war for over five years and what politics couldnt achieve, sports finally did. This article gives you a picture of how powerful the sport can actually be, when it comes to dealing with crisis or when it comes to just entertaining you.

So, when Iraq won the Asian cup last night, it didnt seem too much out of the ordinary, but did feel amazingly nice to hear a good story come out of Iraq. This team had defeated three time Asian Cup champs, Saudi Arabia, with a solitary goal seperating the two teams and more importantly with a team of disaffected young war-torn guys being coached by a Brazilian with a two month contract.

When the game finished and the team ran around the whole stadium not believing what it had just achieved, the Iraqi captain came out and said something that we all hear resonate deep inside.

"I want America to go out," he said. "Today, tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow, but out. I wish the American people didn't invade Iraq and hopefully it will be over soon."

Sad, but I dont think anyone in DC is going to hear him.

Maybe thats because the U.S. doesn't appreciate the world's favorite game for what it is, ultimate diplomacy in 90 minutes.

(P.S. Beckham... please change this....)

Shall We Tell The President?

The Shiva — Sun, 22 Jul 2007 00:34:26 EDT

Those were the days of Jeffrey Archer's glory,but then as we all know, he didn't get very far.In fact he did end up behind bars and all because he lied when he kept a diary that said otherwise (duh, he's a writer...)

Anyway coming closer to home; So there ends the days when the President used to be a man of stature. Now we just elect stupid Presidents. (Not to sound too chauvinistic)

How on earth did Pratibha Patil get to be President?

I mean even though the post is just a plastic smile, signing bills and hands shaking one, I'm sure there were millions of men and women in the country who had the dignity completely absent with this one and who could have done a much better job than this one would ever. Or maybe I'm just getting riled up because Dr. Kalam set such high standards of intelligence and duty, it was always going to be a tough act to beat. So, might as well slip a dud in between.

Nice thinking Sonia.

It also shows how Sonia can basically do whatever she wants and get away with it. Man, do you even imagine what that sort of power can do to your soul? A billion people in your hands. Its dizzying enough speaking about it.

Well to offer some solace is the fact that thank goodness the post is just a rubber stamp ( if you want it to be one) and the President, although Commander in Chief of the armed forces (Pratibha Patil has probably used a knife in her lifetime; I am just highlighting her past experience with things closest to weapons - NOT being MCPish) is at least not the executive branch of government.

So if the US can elect someone as empty as Bush and have a tough time getting away with murder, you can understand the potential damage she could have caused to our already mixed reviews in the world.

But then words sometimes speak louder than actions (usually it's the other way around) So for all the Purdah, Baba, Bank and Murder allegations about Pratibha Patil, one thing is for certain. We're going to have a fun ride reading about her in the days to come.

If only we could tell her, or tell the president, speak up and be heard.

The people are listening.

The Unknown Future

The Shiva — Tue, 29 May 2007 04:27:55 EDT

A seed in the ground. A flame in the darkness. A hand outstretched. A child in the womb. Hope starts small and overtakes us, stretching the borders of what we have known.

It beckons us to step out with the belief that the action we take will not only bear fruit but that in taking it, we have already made a difference in the world.
-Jan Richardson, Night Vision

3.09...3.24.....3.47 - as I fill gas in my car, it strikes me that the possibilities of the future might just be linked to our way of life as a whole, not just in parts. This isn't a plugin that can just be tweaked, the n+1 th variant of the combustion engine. It's something bigger and different that what we have imagined till today. Can we live upto our own expectations before the world catches up?

The World is too much with us
-William Wordsworth.

In the beginning there was one, then a few, and then they all caught up. If you're talking about a pie or oil reserves, its always a fight to get the best piece. So, if the truth is so evident, why is the world so slow to move towards finding newer solutions. Or has science slowed down that no sustainable technology can replace the oil economy?

In any sphere of influence, the only way to stay ahead is to think and adapt to newer technologies before the others, to be an early adopter. I've had plenty of discussions with people around me about the risk of being an early adopter in any business, the investment choice might not work out well in the end, but if it did, the benefits are plenty. So how do you manage both these parameters, risk and benefits?

If you think any nation would be smart about these sort of choices, you would obviously look at India and the the telecom industry, and if we had stuck to the original path of laying land lines and cables, it would have taken us another five decades (five decades and we had reached nowhere) before getting anywhere worth being. The adoption of cellular technologies meant that a landmark decision could possibly change the lives of a billion people which could change the direction in which the entire world moved. The change in inertia.

So what if India took a stance on behalf of sustainable newer energy technologies? Could it be big enough to wean us all away from our oil addition? But then I don't think India would ever be an early adopter because the risks outweight the benefits for an emerging economy. So would China do it? From the way China has moved over the past two years, it's pretty evident that it has made its choice of sticking to an oil economy by courting the riskiest and slimiest of regimes all over the world. So there goes another billion and a half. So what's next?

Brazil has been working on ethanol based fuels for over two decades now, and has achieved a level of maturity with its usage, but now the question of social imbalance arises of how much land do you use for fuels and how much land for food?

Europe has now made a paradigm shift towards bio-fuels, having had its issues with Russia and a depleted North sea oil reserve. The UK will soon start being a net importer of oil as opposed to a net exporter today. So when it finally does come to staying ahead, how do you make the first move?

The answer finally boils down to what the US does. Not because it holds any leverage on the political environments but because it consumes so much that any change could be momentous.

The debate has surely started, which is always a good sign. But any change will take time, so do we have enough of it?

As countries make tough choices; geopolitics play out scenarios; and the future is played out in the mind a thousand times over, you will find yourself holding that fuel pump in your hand wondering whether anyone out there is making the right choice or whether this is how our civilization ends.

I hope the choice is right.

An English, August Feeling In June

The Shiva — Sat, 28 Apr 2007 01:44:32 EDT

The weather today just reminded me of something I had written a while ago. A sort of 'Deja vu' moment I guess.

So here is the retro post,

It was a reasonably hot 90 degrees outside. I stared out of the window in my office for the eleventh time thinking the clouds would actually make a difference. They came together within a matter of minutes like an army of ants in a sugar bowl. Soon there wasn't an empty space in the sky and I felt even more lonely. Lonely by choice and lonely by chance.

"Yenna da vettiya?",asked a friend (Are you jobless?). A smiley answered back in the affirmative. I don't think any other emoticon could capture the train of thoughts running in my mind or the lack of it. It wasn't a crib notice, that fate brought me to unknown lands not of my choice, neither was it a depressive state of emptiness, and even more a longing feeling to be out there with people. It was just the view of the room and beyond.

The view of a picturesque park, with an unknown monument standing there would usually bring joy to peoples faces. I don't feel anything when I picture that. I see inertia, and see the wheels turn slowly dragging the heavy mass along with it. The caffeine adds to this hallucination and I just smile.

Not another morose tale. Not a story of succeeding against the odds or failing with it. Not about visually capturing life but excluding the meaning. Just about spending some time with myself. I took a chance with that.

It really was bright and sunny outside, with birds chirping and smiles all around. It almost felt that the room added its own set of emotions in my mind. Just like an oil spill in the ocean. I settled for a spot in the middle of the path leading up to my office. The seat seemed worn out but i think I chose it for the shade the pine behind it provided. How hard is it not to be hustled?

Like we've heard a million times before, you constantly are surrounded with people who want to go somewhere, who want to get something, and this race is just exhausting. The thing about this running is its all over your face, and messy. People just come in, blow their brains off about things they might have caught in the evening news, and on how everything in life boils down to how much money you have. I agree till a point, you need the green. The green however isn't the reason of your existence.

I sank into the seat and oblivious to most people who passed by me, I started observing life as a work of art. The expressions, the uncanny gestures, the cappuccino all pointed to a goal. Communication was getting more about the intent rather than the use of words as an art. I thought is it just me or is life getting that mundane that you use your cell phone as a location guiding instrument to people who already know where you are?

All these questions, till she came.

I didn't notice her, but she seemed to know me from somewhere. and as most cases go, you usually go with the flow trying to use every context of communication as a means to understand your first situation of contact.

I think i might have met her at some friends place. The face looked reasonably familiar, but I don't have a thing for faces, and usually for faces just seen once. I greeted her and was probably stuck in a situation that I really did not like. I wanted to be alone. I just wanted to be alone and as the hundreds of experiences go, I also didn't want to be alone. I just feel this way and once its over, I like to take refuge in the regret that pours down. Why didn't I talk? Why didn't I sit there? Why did I do whatever it is that I did?

She noticed that my mind was somewhere else and thought I really was doing something and didn't want to disturbed. Ya you could say that, I was busy watching a bunch of sparrows fight for a piece of popcorn.

"I'm on a coffee break", she said. I smiled searching for more questions to ask. "So you like spending a buck on coffee when you can get one for free at the office? " yup, thats what i said. She rolled her eyes, like someone already asked her that," no this is tea and yes i paid a buck for it. They don't have tea in my office."

I nodded to be polite, because it really didn't make any difference what she drank. Was this a disease?? Am I a claustrophobic jerk or was I just sadistic complaining that nothing interesting ever happened to me.

"Don't these walkways remind you of human highways where people just are in a rush to get someplace. Its like the rules observed for driving are effortlessly followed over here, the slower ones stick the right of the path, the speeding ones on the left. It almost looks like a huge human mass was on a move, and all we needed were headlights and this would have been US-59...."

I didn't know how to respond. I looked at the people, they did seem pretty organized. It did remind me of a freeway concept. It did make sense. I looked back at her and smiled in the affirmative. "Yes, thats true. But I wonder did the rules from driving apply here or the other way around."

"Does it matter how they are applied?"

"Hmm...I dont think so, unless you were studying evolution."

"So you think we started at evolution."

"No, havent a clue about that. But we sure are going where evolution leads us."

"True, we are evolving in many ways, in fact many more ways unknown to us. Our conscience evolves, we choose to stop the change, and feel sad that nothing important ever happens to us."

Wow...was that her speaking. I just turned my attention to the slightest of insecurities she managed to reveal. She started nibbling at the cup, almost like she didn't like what she just said.

"So, I get from what you say, you don't like change."

"Who does?"

"I think people do if they knew what they were getting into."

"Thats a personal statement. I think people in general are cowards, and only a few manage to be less of cowards than most. Those are the brave."

I didn't want to get sucked into all the neghead talk. Surprising how other people make you feel bad or good about yourself.

"I don't think too much about all that. I mean there used to be a time when I did, but now i feel there is always a cause effect system in place, so we react. No point blaming anyone about why they did something or not. Sometimes its the best laid plans, sometimes its just a bad rash reaction. Ultimately we get drawn into some other game, so we keep playing till we drop down dead. Game over."

"Haahaa...that is simplifying existence to a Video Game."

"Not just any game, a PS2 game....imagine whoever came up with the catch phrase, Live in your world, Play in ours...."

"So I come to understand that you own a PS2."

"No prizes for guessing that."

"Ya, i wasn't expecting any."

"So, I guess you study here." In what seemed to be my first attempt at knowing who she was.

"How does it matter? I could say anything and get away with it. Would it change anything?"

"OMG, Hazaar sorry yaar, I was just trying to make conversation. Don't read too much into nothing."

"Yes I do study here. Which should explain why im drinking tea on a pathway in the middle of the afternoon trying to escape from the reality that shrouds me inside that building."

She turned to the building and said, "Doesn't that look like a black box, holding up all possible secrets that anyone may have. I just want to break it once."

"Haahaa, yes it does look like a black box because its highly overcast, might rain anytime, and the building is painted...er...black.."

"I was speaking figuratively."

"I got that. I was being prudent."

We both smiled.

A drop fell on my nose, just between my eyes. I felt alive. It started raining in almost like a 180 degree shift from what the weather had been an hour ago. My mood too was a little lighter than what it was an hour ago. I couldn't speak for hers as she got up from the seat.

"It is raining, you know. I think thats a sign to get back to work."

"Or a sign to get off work?"

"Haahaa, I don't know about you, but I have to earn my paycheck. They don't pay me for sitting and enjoying the rain."

"No one does, isn't that sad? The most beautiful moments of your life happen when it rains, and you live those moments worrying about a paycheck, that you would have earned at the cost of losing this."

"Thats life."

"Thats a choice."

"Thats being real."

"Thats a black box talking. and you wanted to break it once right?"

She smiled.

"Bye."

"Next time when it rains?"

"In August?"

"Ask the weatherman."

She left.

So I was once again sitting alone, but felt fine with how things were. The rain started pouring in, but I just sat there, getting drenched. I just didn't want to do anything else.

Just an English, August feeling in June.

The Virginia Tech Massacre

The Shiva — Tue, 17 Apr 2007 00:02:03 EDT

It's exactly eight years to the same week that the Columbine High School massacre took place - and today another 33 people were gunned down. Even though the reasons may be unknown, what's obvious is the presence of a gun. And what keeps the gun out there are all the fervent supporters of the Second Amendment: "The right to bear arms" it seems.

But oddly who thinks of the bill of rights when facing the wrong end of a .38mm? Though in reality there is no right end of it.

So why am I, a dormant desi, so bugged by this incident. Because I have had my own experiences facing a gun, and not for one second can I not imagine what would have happened if he would have pulled the trigger. Believe me it's scary.

There will be protests; the Supreme court will decide whether it wants to debate the gun ownership laws; the media will have its share of scary reports and a field day depending on which side of the aisle they own allegiance to.

Michael Moore will be out there making a new documentary which will win an Oscar; the NRA will issue releases that it doesn't support the illegal sale of guns, but it is still very necessary to own guns because the founding fathers had mentioned something in the constitution over 200 years ago.

John Cusack will come out with another version of a sequel to John Grisham's novel called The Runaway Jury Runs Again; Dick Cheney will shoot another aide while duck hunting. There will be mass mournings in every major city.

There will be some international concern and I can imagine in India, people during their coffee breaks would opine that the US is not safe when our own horrors just begin in Nithari. There will be annual vigils held for those who died; and soon everyone will choose to forget that the ill in American society lies not with ownership of guns, but the thought that everyone who owns one is responsible enough for it.

Some things don't change.

And yes, no one really cares; or else they would have done something about it a long time ago.

Cricket - When Did it Stop Being About Fun?

The Shiva — Fri, 6 Apr 2007 05:55:48 EDT

I think I've taken my time to get over India's performance at the world cup (A self-imposed moratorium of two weeks). Yes, it was tough, almost unbelievable to some extent but if you were to just step back for a second and think, it was just a game of cricket. I know it's easier to say these things than to actually feel that way, but somehow I think it's time to stop taking the game this seriously. Not just us fans, but even the players, the coaches and the board. Not that I mean we shouldn't still be passionate about it, just that a defeat shouldn't really mean a lot (neither should a victory). It's about trying to enjoy the game for what it is, about those incredible moments of luck where skill meets resolve and creates heroes or villains for the rest of us.

What made me get out of my denial shell had something to do with our cricketing past. To me full-fledged cricket started with the Tendulkar era, where a mediocre team with brilliant individuals somehow pulled us out of defeat and at other times made us look ordinary. So I took the time to go back to some videos from the '92 World Cup (yes, the Ind-Pak game featured in that pile).

That team hardly looked like it was going to win the World Cup, but it was being held in far away Australia, in a different time when the Indian team faced almost empty grounds and all the players looked like they could only do so much. Sachin was still the unheralded genius, Kapil Dev was fading into the sunset. It looked so surreal to see all of them play with some uncorrupted passion somewhere, so the defeats didn't look that painful because we all consoled ourselves by saying they did their best. And yes we all were also young, not yet in the race towards winning the world, and where having Pepsi was a luxury, and corporate mergers were still 'not Indian'. It was about enjoying life, the game and appreciating the team.

I remember being gutted when India lost by one run to Australia in '92, but somehow the reason no one was villified was because even the Ozzies looked mortal. But then we stayed exactly in the same place while the rest of the world took off. Yes, we had our times when we looked menacing, especially in '96 on home turf, but even then we never found the right balance between youth and experience. I was at the Wankhede stadium when we faced Australia and we lost the game by some 20 runs. Our team looked and felt old.

But then we all got out of the stadium, caught our trains and went home. It was a usual Bombay evening. I don't remember anyone burning effigies. It was just a game.

I think part of the reason for our inability to comprehend the loss now is because somehow we started believing that we were better than ourselves. That somehow India had become this great economic power which must also have trickled down to our cricketing genius. I am sure all of us must have received emails about how much player A earns or how much player B pays in his taxes. Since when did economics and Indian sports ever make sense? The reason I say Indian sports is because, all over the world it does. In India however we inflate our abilities to take on the world, when in reality we will only get there in small confident steps. And in cricket especially, it somehow goes unnoticed that more than half the world doesn't even play the sport. We have to at least be good among the ten countries that do.

But forget for a moment that we care how much anyone makes and that performance has anything to do with economics. Forget that our opinions count for anything. What we are left with are a bunch of players who still look as mortal as any Indian team in history, who have all played the same way as we have expected them to in the past. It's just the fact that the rest of the world has started playing better which hurts our egos.

And when you mix ego with defeat, you get burning effigies.

I wonder whether we would ever go back to that era when cricket was just a game, because it looks highly doubtful in the current atmosphere. How much sense Sharad Powar might add to the proceedings is equally unclear (he would somehow be rueing the fact that he's in that chair).

And with everyone publicly blowing their heads off, I wonder how the kids in India are taking this. When your heroes get dragged through all this chaos, how is that any different from real life? Don't you have heroes to escape reality?

Maybe the answer to that is - no kid in India actually considers them to be heroes anymore.

They were and are OUR heroes.

And maybe it's time we accepted the fact that they were real.

So let's just have some fun. Pepsi, anyone?

The Human Paradox

The Shiva — Sun, 18 Mar 2007 04:43:42 EDT

And then there are stories and there are voices. Each story with different voices and each voice with stories. These stories have many words and when you read each word and close your eyes, each word creates a character. Soon, through your inner eye you see all these different characters each with a story to tell, finally converging in an orgy, not just any orgy, but one of syllables.

It is in this orgy that the syllables shine like monochromatic crystals viewed through a multicolored kaleidoscope, and no matter the distortion, always find their way into exact beautiful patterns. Each one of those crystals is chosen from amongst many grains washed ashore by random waves, the same waves that have been resonating through the ages with the frequency of the cosmic 'aum' and the 'amen'.

The sounds from these waves find their way into notes which when heard together fill the mind with peace and the heart with passion and awakens the dreamy eyed demagogue that hides deep within our mortal dermi. A soul awakened by visions of its own voice and story.

This is the human paradox. Or so we believe...

Okay, so what if life wasn't as cryptic as it sounds but just merely confusing. You zoom in and zoom out of situations so often that the focus is now weary and the motivation weak, so at times things can seem all too clear. Except that you're focussed on the wrong things. It happens to all of us when we hear stories from different people passing us by and something in their stories hits us deep, that we start feeling weird about what would happen if we were to be in those situations.

But what we miss in those stories is the fact that these are not just stories but lives of real people who have come out alive on the other side, scarred or otherwise, wiser for themselves. Though its only the ones who keep crawling back into those miserable situations that you end up feeling for, almost like you were watching Salaam Bombay! reruns on TV.

I've often wondered whether people are more prone to commit mistakes if they were placed in exactly the same situations again and again or do they have the ability to recover, recuperate and regain control over the choices that lead them there in the first place. I mean of course people are smarter and have the ability to learn, but some people I think just like the holes they get into, so in all their discomfort they find themselves comfortably numb.

Or is it that they just feel weak and realizing that strength is so far away from them, that they'd rather just enjoy their moments of weakness, because hey, you just live once. Or so they think.

The voices, well, change over time, some having regained their composure, and some having lost their sense of judgment completely. But ultimately I think it's the human condition of unease and discomfort that makes people act, wisely or otherwise. So while all of us crave for a sense of comfort, it is only the discomfort that makes us act.

Which is why misery is probably the greatest drama of all.

Pakistan Functions In The Lost Realm

The Shiva — Tue, 6 Mar 2007 00:33:43 EST

I was reading an article about the people on the 'Samjhauta' Express, and how the hopelessness of the case for the weakest part of society (who ironically are the ones who need someone to speak for them) had more to do with the issue being mired in political jingoism. The people who travel by this train are the ones who cannot afford to fly, and spend months saving for this trip, weeks to get through the immigration hoops of both countries. These are people who don't understand that each family member needs a passport, and that all they want at the end of the trip was to visit a long lost relative. And these are precisely the people who fall through the leaking system.

I would generally call myself an optimistic guy, I believe in India's sovereignty as a nation, about the steps needed to make our country safe. But somehow this case doesn't get past me even after weeks have passed since the blasts. My initial reaction to these blasts was it shouldn't have happened, but I personally didn't want this case to be solved before the Mumbai blasts of July. But then I realize that case shouldn't be solved before the Mumbai blasts of 2003, which again shouldn't be solved before the blasts in 1993.

And that's when it hits me. No one really cares.

I don't blame anyone for being that way, this is what you expect when you have an inadequately equipped system to take on the entire population. It was designed on purpose this way so that the ones who can help themselves move on, the ones who can't fade into oblivion. Nehru's socialistic dream gone sour. Or something I had read somewhere a long time ago - an advanced stage of decay.

So for all the confidence building measures the two countries take, there are equal number of unchecked crimes against humanity that occur with no one to answer for. How do you decide on the priority that any of these horrid crimes should get? Well, both countries take the easier way out. You don't have a problem if you don't talk about it; you hope it just goes away. Like an ostrich hiding its head in the sand.

There was another moment of truth that I had over the past few weeks. For over twenty years I kept hearing the term cross-border terrorism used by all the Indian PMs. And then heard the Pakistani rebuttal that it doesn't exist. That never made any sense to me, it was like the Indians keep saying 2+2=4, but the Pakistanis kept saying it was 3. How in the world could this be true, I used to wonder? Can't anyone see the truth? Where was the U.S. or the EU to play the neutral referee when it mattered the most? Lives were being lost because of this equation.

But now it makes sense. The U.S. and NATO have been accusing Pakistan of allowing cross border terrorism to take place on its Northern borders with Afghanistan. And the Pakistanis still deny it. The same EXACT response I had heard them give the Indians for over a decade. So I started decoding their response because it just didn't make any sense.

So, when the Pakistanis deny cross border terrorism, it doesn't mean it doesn't exist, it means it's just something the Pakistanis don't know of, have no control over, and cannot do anything about. Call it a balancing act; call it having to deal with a failed state not in control of its provinces.

The fourth realm of radicalism. And the missing '1' in the equation was always lost in this realm.