The death of love

"Can love die?" He asked me reflecting my question back to me. Just then we entered into a shop and the question got lost in the consumerist gluttony. But it resurfaced once again while I was sitting in the balcony of my house looking at the setting sun (symbolic of death?). Now before venturing on to the question of death of love and related issues, it is important that it be made clear at the very outset that love is not what one feels for the girl at the bus stand whom one has never talked to or for the actor on the screen. Well then what is love? Oh, I wish I could borrow the Vedantic term of Neti Neti which they used for Brahma, the Ultimate Reality. Isn't love indescribable just like Brahma? Is love the warm gooey feeling you get when you think about the one you love or wanting to spend sleepless nights watching the moon together? Long silent walks on the beach, or silently peeping into the low lying bird nests and giving naughty smiles to one another? Or when you continue to hold each other's hands long after your first denture? What all can love amount to? Whatever it may make you do, love does take you to the pinnacle of human existence.

Again, just like Brahma cannot be realized through reason, love too is beyond rationality. The more you try to reason out, the less would be the share of love in a relationship. But since humans are rational animals, they cannot forego reason and it is not surprising that there is so little love in the world. I cannot help mentioning Cadre Based Marriages here, a common phenomenon in the world I am now a part of but I think can never belong to. No love, only calculated convenience! Selfish logic overpowering deeper emotions!

Love cannot happen at the drop of a hat but it can happen more than once. Imagine a situation where a boy once loved a girl, truly, madly, deeply. But they could not end up being together for some reason. So will the love that he felt for her never die? Will he forever burn in the hellish fire of unfulfilled love? Can he never fall in love with someone else without the thought of his first love looming over him like a dark gloomy cloud?

The answer I think mostly lies in whether love has been nipped in its bud or has been allowed to grow into a blooming fragrant flower. There are situations when love is not allowed to reach its logical conclusion. Here, it is easy for it to eventually die as the two hearts have not tasted the sweet fruits that come out of a prolonged  association. The case of the boy mentioned above may belong to this category. But what when the two have lived each other's lives? Have lived in a cottage by the riverside in a land where the sun sets but never so in the two hearts where it is always bright and sunny? Have left indelible footprints on the sands of beaches? Have carved their names on the tall deodar trees of the Himalayas? Have breathed elixir on each other? Have discovered their Zahir, their soulmate in each other? When there were fireworks in the two souls out of the ecstasy at having found their long separated halves? At the search having finally finished? Can this love die? The flame of this love can never be extinguished. Nietzsche's God can die but not this love! Like Ashwatthama, it is doomed to live forever.

But how does one discover their Zahir? Only a few are fortunate enough to find their soul mates. Most of us either are not lucky enough to find them at the right time or just pass through them. The latter happens due to the thick layer of biases and preconceived notions we have. These make our souls less receptive to the sounds of violins playing in the air. And we whisk past them. And here love dies before it could be born.

This is the long and short of love and its death..

Sometimes pain is unable to express itself overtly. It just simmers at the brim like a lidded pot full of boiling water. It scalds you and leaves a scar that can never be erased. I suppose the same can be said about love. Love can be the most vitriolic and corrosive of all emotions. As Marquez said, unrequited love can make your corpse smell like bitter almonds. All glorified and worshiped, love has now become this arrogant tyrannical  God who rules our lives with a whip. Controlling our emotions, our movements, our thoughts. We are enslaved by this all-powerful master who keeps lashing his whip with unabated cruelty. Love needs to be brought down from this higher pedestal to a more earthly existence from where he can see the pain he has been afflicting on us for so long. He needs to be made more humane, not Godly. From their heavens above gods are unable to see the plight of earthlings. Humane love can be argued with, fought against; Godly love is above reason knowing no laws of logic and rationality. He works in a whimsical fashion. These whims need to be done away with. This tyranny needs to be done away with. Rationality has to win over this recklessness...

Some day it will!

Winters of Memories.

Winters knocked at her doors once again; bringing back to life old wounds and pains. Nights being longer during the winters, gave greater opportunity for those buried memories to resuscitate. She would lay there awake with eyes closed, deep in thoughts that varied from uncertainties of the future to some remote childhood incident that gave its rare appearance in the constant rolling of the reel of life. 

She was reminded of those winters of her college days when she lay awake in her bed just like now, not due to insomnia, but due to hunger pangs. She would then wear her knee length coat over her shorts and leave out on a journey to calm down the raging fire in her stomach. With her furry slippers on, she would walk on the pavement covered with snow flakes and several inches of snow on either side. She enjoyed the way chilly winds felt on her bare legs. She would want to stay longer but would inevitably hear a voice of caution from one of those open windows.

Her rescuer on those hungry nights was a beauty called Aisha. She would make her some great pasta and tea with African herbs. This enchantress from Africa with a bewitching smile had several admirers. Her crazy ways attracted men of all sorts. Her room smelt of perfumed oils and was the warmest room during those cold nights. She was her best friend. Their friendship was meant to last forever and it did.

The weight of her memories would slowly lull her into sleep continuing their appearance in her dreams. Every year she looked forward to these dreams as they were the most varied of all. Forgotten events and people from the annals of her well lived life would come back to life. 

The days were painful though. Having no recourse to the memories because of several things to do, she would have to bear the pain of broken bones and stiff joints. That was when her loneliness hit her the most. She wished to share the burden with someone but found none.

Several years back when she did not understand what loneliness meant, a few lines occurred to her which she penned down. "Loneliness," she wrote,"is a state of mind. A lone fisherman in the midst of the sea might not be lonely at all whereas someone amidst a myriad of people might be the loneliest of all." Those were the days when fancy thoughts came to her from out of nowhere. Little did she know that she would be the one living these lines several years down the lane.

She craved for company when alone but wanted to get rid of those who surrounded her and wished to be left alone. Such contradictory behaviour was not a sign of mental disease. She had realized that the search for  right company was an arduous task. People around her were ageing but refused to grow. Their thoughts failed to match to the graying of their hair. Depth and profundity meant talking about serious issues in a superficial manner. She therefore preferred loneliness over such company.

One winter night as she was getting ready to get lost in the labyrinth of memories, she heard a knock at the window. She opened it up and the spectacle was breathtaking. The moon was at its most beautiful phase. The reddish-orange full moon looked like a dot on the forehead of a lady with a smooth black complexion. Just then she realized that a considerable time had passed since she saw something as mesmerizing. She was reminded of her hobby of sky-watching which she followed with passion in her school days. She would spend hours at the telescope looking at the distant stars, tracking satellites, and looking at the craters of the moon. Today she was no longer able to perceive those stellar entities as gaseous or rocky masses. Now they seemed to convey a whole new meaning to her, striking conversation with her distant self. The vast lake in front of her seemed like the playground of the moon in its various forms. She was encapsulated in the sight.

Even as she was letting the long due joy sink in, she saw a lone boat with a man rowing slowly and steadily towards the moon.

She now knew that she had finally found her companion for life... 

Snake in the grass

Another separation is on its way. It had been creeping in insidiously like a green snake in the savannas. I knew there was something amiss, a careless hiss once in a while. But walking in green pastures makes one oblivious to the obvious threats. However, now the grass is receding and the snake has no place to escape but to shine in the bright sun. It is here. It is here and ready to spew its venom on me. Another bout of excruciating pain when I will have to do a small incision and let the venom ooze out of my body, drop by drop. Can't let it spread to the rest of my body. I have now become an expert in this small surgical process that I need to undergo every once in a while. It is not just the venom but also my blood that drops out with it. A part of me decides to leave me to be a part of the venom forever. I think it will eventually die of the poison.

I do nothing! I let it go!

Preparing for Civil Service Exams

Preliminary exam:

The format for preliminary exam has changed from this year. From this year on, UPSC has introduced what is called as Civil Services Aptitude Test (CSAT). It has two papers, paper 1 and paper 2. The syllabus for the two of them is as follows:

Paper 1 (200 marks) - Duration: Two hrs.

• Current events of national and international importance
• History of India and Indian national movement
• Indian and World Geography- physical, social, economic geography of India and the world
• Indian Polity and governance – constitution, political system, panchayati raj, public policy, Rights issues, etc.
• Economic and social development – sustainable development, poverty, inclusion, demographics, social sector initiatives etc.
• General issues on environmental ecology, bio-diversity and climate change-that do not require subject specialization
• General science.

(Paper II) (200 marks) – Duration : Two hrs

• Comprehension
• Interpersonal skills including communication skills
• Logical reasoning and analytical ability
• Decision making and problem solving
• General mental ability
• Basic numeracy (numbers and their relations, orders of magnitude etc. (Class X level), Data interpretation (charts, graphs, tables, data sufficiency etc. –Class X level)
• English language comprehension skills (Class X level)
• Questions relating to English Language Comprehension skills of Class X level (last item in the Syllabus of Paper-II) will be tested through passages from English language only without providing Hindi translation thereof in the question paper.

Preparing for Paper 1:

The trend is changing from asking fact based questions to asking analytical questions. Stress is now on to see whether the candidate has in depth understanding of issues or has only superficial knowledge of them. So it is important to get into the core of the things instead of just hovering over the surface. For instance, while reading about various schemes it is not enough to just know what it is but also to know when was it started, in how many districts it is being implemented, its various clauses etc.  If one could club the preparation of main exam and prelims, then it is surely going to help as while preparing for the written exam one develops a broader understanding of topics which would help to score well in prelims too.

Sources:

·         Two newspapers daily. The Hindu and Indian Express are the newspapers that I read.

·         India Year book. It is a very useful resource. Do not skip reading it. For Indian history, read NCERTs and Spectrum

·         For geography, read NCERTs. I also read class notes of vajiram and ravi institute, New Delhi and their hand outs. But if that is not available then one can read special editions of Pratiyogita Darpan or Civil Service Chronicle. Do not miss reading about the latest Census.

·         For polity, read Lakshmi kant for constitution; one should know about fundamental rights, human rights, UN Charter of human rights, national human rights commission, child rights commission, international human rights organizations, The role of Supreme Court in the interpretation of constitutionally guaranteed rights, etc; one can go to india.gov.in and know the latest schemes of the government.

·         For economics and social development read India Year book, follow newspapers and magazines, Geography NCERT on human geography.

·         For environment, read all the different protocols and conventions, their genesis and their clauses. Go to the website of Ministry of Environment and Forest to know about the treaties India is a part of, latest initiatives taken by the government, and the environment policy of the Government of India.

·         For General Science, read NCERTs. Also keep your eyes and ears open to new concepts in science, those scientific terms that are in news etc.

·         Read all the special editions as that would broaden your knowledge base. As there is no fixed syllabus, try and accumulate as much knowledge as possible from different sources.

·         Go to www.indiacurrentaffairs.org for latest article on various topics.

Preparing for Paper 2:

There are several books available in bookshops on logical reasoning and analytical ability, and general mental ability. One can read Maths NCERTs of 7^th to 10^th for basic numeracy and data interpretation. For comprehension, one should develop the habit of reading newspapers. This goes for students from Hindi medium too. Please do not be disappointed with the introduction of questions on English comprehension as the questions are not very difficult to answer. Further, read an English language newspaper every day to improve your comprehension skills.

Written Exam:

Written exam is the most important step in your path for becoming a Civil Servant. It will translate your dream into reality. So, undoubtedly, you need to give your heart and soul into its preparations. Now, the most important thing to realize is that there are almost 4 months’ gap between prelims and mains and the result for prelims comes somewhere in the middle. One has to make the maximum utilization of this time. Often, candidates (usually first attempters) wait for the result to be out before they start preparing for the written exam. Please do not do this! The two months between prelims and result are very crucial and are not to be wasted. Those who secure good ranks are not the ones who wait for the result. They start studying a week after the prelims. Focus, determination, and smart hard work sail you through this exam. Any compromise with hard work will be counter-productive. So put your best foor forward and do not leave any stone unturned!

Preparing for General Studies:

There are two papers in General Studies. The syllabus for the two of them is as follows:

Paper I

(1) History of Modern India and Indian Culture

The History of Modern India will cover history of the Country from about the middle of nineteenth century and would also include questions on important personalities who shaped the freedom movement and social reforms. The part relating to Indian culture will cover all aspects of Indian culture from the ancient to modern times as well as principal features of literature, arts and architecture.

(2) Geography of India

In this part, questions will be on the physical, economic and social geography of India.

(3) Constitution of India and Indian Polity

This part will include questions on the Constitution of India as well as all constitutional, legal, administrative and other issues emerging from the politico-administrative system prevalent in the country.

(4) Current National issues and topics of social relevance

This part is intended to test the candidate's awareness of current national issues and topics of social relevance in present-day India, such as the following:

(i) The Indian economy and issues relating to planning, mobilization of resources, growth, development and employment.
(ii) Issues arising from the social and economic exclusion of large sections from the benefits of development.
(iii) Other issues relating to the development and management of human resource.
(iv) Health issues including the management of Public Health, Health education and ethical concerns regarding health-care, medical research and pharmaceuticals.
(v) Law enforcement, internal security and related issues such as the preservation of communal harmony.
(vi) Issues relating to good governance and accountability to the citizens including the maintenance of human rights, and of probity in public life.
(vii) Environmental issues, ecological preservation, conservation of natural resources and national heritage.

Paper-II

(1) India and the World

This part will include questions to test candidate's awareness of India's relationship with the world in various spheres such as the following:-

• Foreign Affairs with special emphasis on India’s relations with neighbouring countries and in the region.
• Security and defence related matters.
• Nuclear policy, issues, and conflicts.
• The Indian Diaspora and its contribution to India and the world.

(2) India’s Economic Interaction with the World

In this part, questions will be on economic and trade issues such as foreign trade, foreign investment; economic and diplomacy issues relating to oil, gas and energy flows; the role and functions of I.M.F., World Bank, W.T.O., WIPO etc. which influence India’s economic interaction with other countries and international institutions.

(3) Developments in the Field of Science & Technology, IT and space

In this part, questions will test the candidate's awareness of the developments in the field of science and technology, information technology, space and basic ideas about computers, robotics, nanotechnology, biotechnology and related issues regarding intellectual property rights.

(4) International Affairs and Institutions

This part will include questions on important events in world affairs and on international institutions.

(5) Statistical analysis, graphs and diagrams

This part will test the candidate's ability to draw conclusions from information presented in statistical, graphical or diagrammatical form and to interpret them.

·         For History, read Bipan Chandra’s India’s Struggle for Independence. This is a very useful resource and should not be missed.  You would have already read NCERT and Spectrum for prelims so you can give them a quick read if you wish.

·         For geography, read NCERTs and special editions. Also you should know the map of India and the world very well. Besides, if there is a geological event in news, like tsunami etc, then read in depth about it.

·         For Constitution, read Lakshmi Kant. Have a clear understanding of the fundamentals of our constitution. This is extremely important to score well in your GS paper. Also, newspaper reading is of great help here.

·         For current national issues and topics of social relevance, read the newspaper and one magazine regularly. Besides, subscribe to the Frontline and read relevant articles from there. Also, read Yojana magazine regularly. Read the India Year book to know about the various social sector schemes. Use the internet whenever possible. As I said, go to the website www.indiacurrentaffairs.org. It has topic-wise articles on subjects and they update the website on a regular basis. Further, know your stats on various health pointers and read articles on them. Newspapers and magazines write regularly on these issues. Finally, you should know all the environmental treaties, what they pertain to, their clauses etc. Different environmental issues in news, India’s environment policy, steps taken by the government, etc.  Read special editions on environment.

·         Two/three/five markers have become very important now. So read the newspaper closely for all the different personalities in newspapers, right from award winners, to PIOs in news, places in news. Know about all the latest infrastructural projects. If there is a big one under construction, like the Golden Quadrilateral etc.

Paper II:

·         India and the world: Newspaper (especially Indian Express) and World Focus magazine. Also visit the website of Ministry of External Affairs to know the recent changes in the bilateral relations between India and other countries. India’s nuclear policy and its nuclear program and different treaties and conventions pertaining to nuclear energy should be known. India’s defence policy, its missile program, latest defence related purchases. For this you can read Wizard’s special edition for main exam and also visit the website of ministry of defence.  Rather, follow the news on people if Indian origin/NRIs closely in the newspapers and magazines.

·         For India’s Economic relations with the world read special issue on economy of Pratiyogita Darpan.

·         For Science and Technology, read newspapers, magazines, internet, vigyan prasar, etc.

·         For statistics, get a standard book on statistics and practice past year’s question paper.

·         Also, go to the website www.india.gov.in . It is a very good source for information on various issues. It is Government of India’s official website.

The Chase

Standing on the floor of slippery thoughts where they slide through the slimy surface before I get a chance to catch hold of them. These colourful ideas leave a sweet scent every time they touch me and proceed on their onward journey. Just a whiff, yet the memory of the smell lingers on for long, making me pine for them with an increased fervour each time. This longing forces me to tread on that slippery floor where I have fallen several times, sometimes even to disgrace. But I have long stopped getting ashamed of the disgrace I keep falling into and I get up each time to catch one of those beautiful ideas and keep it with me forever.

But they outrun me, elude me every time. I wonder where they are headed. What is their final destination? I secretly envy the being they would bless with their fragrant presence forever. I wonder why they tease me with just a whiff. Do they play this game with me because I chase them frantically and they have now started enjoying this cat and mouse game? Now that I am aware of their existence, I cannot help but crave for them and keep chasing them. I do not know if I would ever manage to capture them. At times one of them would lilt something sweet into my ears filling me with inexplicable cheer. How can I stop chasing them? The happiness they give me, though momentary, is unlike I have ever experienced, both in intensity and kind. Why wouldn’t I be tempted to make them mine forever?

But as of now, I stand on the floor of slippery thoughts, trying to keep my balance even as I follow the scented trail of these thoughts hoping to find their final abode... 

कुछ शब्द

माँ- वह शब्द जिसे सुनकर ह्रदय के भीतर संवेदनायों का सागर उमड़ पड़ता है. न जाने कितने भाव इसी एक शब्द में सिमटे हुए हैं. मेरे लिए कभी माँ, कभी मम्मू, कभी ममा, और जाने क्या क्या बन के खड़ी हो जाती हो. न जाने कितने अवतार एक ही जनम में लिए है आपने. जननी, भरणी, रक्षक, गुरु, मार्गदर्शिका, मित्र सभी कुछ तो हो मेरी. जब रोना आया आपके कंधो ने सहारा दिया और जब मैं हँसी तब आप भी खिलखिला कर मेरे साथ हँस दी. अपने अंग के टुकड़े को कुछ सालों पहले बाहर निकाल तो दिया था पर अभी भी उसके दर्द और ख़ुशी को वैसे ही महसूस करती हो जैसे अभी भी जिस्म से जुड़ा हो. न केवल मुझे रचा है आपने, पर इश्वर की भाँती मेरे ह्रदय की बातें भी बिन बोले समझ जाती हो. एक अलग ही शक्ति दी है विधाता ने माँ को. तभी तो भगवान कहलाती हो. धरती में देव का रूप धारण करती हो. 

याद है माँ बचपन में मैं अपने अनगिनत सवालों की झड़ी आपके सामने लगा देती थी. तब आप बिना किसी खीज के उन सभी सवालों के जवाब देने की कोशिश करती थी. कोशिश इसीलिए  क्यूंकि कुछ सवाल ऐसे थे जिनका कुछ उत्तर ही नहीं है, जैसे की सप्तरिशी मंडल का आकार प्रश्न चिन्ह जैसा क्यों है? बाकी घरवाले ज़रूर मेरे प्रश्नों की बौछार से उकता जाते थे पर आप नहीं. आप कहतीं कि उत्सुकता पर कभी कोई अंकुश नहीं   लगना चाहिए. शायद तभी ज्ञान की पिपासा हमेशा मुझमें सजग रही. 

थोड़ी बड़ी हुई तो बहस बाज़ी भी हुई आपसे. तर्क-कुतर्क का आदान-प्रदान भी हुआ. उम्र के प्रभाव के चलते विद्रोह करना भी दिमाग सीखने लगा था. पर आपके प्यार ने विद्रोही बनने न दिया और उस दिशाहीन उर्जा को नयी दिशा दी. 

मेरे जीवन में आप उसी सूर्य के भाँती हो जो घने वन में पेड़ों के बीच से झाँक कर धरती पर रौशनी की चिलमनें बना देता है और पथिक को अँधेरे में रास्ता दिखाता है.  चाहे कितने भी दूर हो, जब भी मेरे सामने अँधेरा ताड़ीका की भाँती मुंह खोल खड़ा हुआ आपने हमेशा सूर्य बन कर मुझे रौशनी दिखलाई. जैसे नया चाँद कनखियों से पृथ्वी पर नज़र रखता है, वैसे ही बिना बोध कराये आपने अपनी ममता भरी नज़र सदैव मुझे पर रखी और जब भी मैं लडखडाई आप को खुद के पास पाया. याद आती है आपकी गोद की बहुत जब भी आपसे दूर होती हूँ. जब भी परेशानियाँ ज़्यादा परेशान कर देती हैं, तब झट से आपकी गोद में सिर रख कर लेट जाती हूँ और सारे समाधान अपने आप सामने आने लगते हैं. कुछ जादुई छड़ी घुमा देती हो क्या मुझे बिना बताये?

माँ अपने बच्चों के लिए आपने अपनी सारी इच्छाएं, सारी कलायों का बलिदान चढ़ा दिया और उफ़ तक नहीं की. क्या आपको कभी आपके दिल औ दिमाग ने रोका न होगा? क्या कभी उन कलायों को अपने हाथों से फिसलता देख आपका दिल कचोटा नहीं होगा? पर आपने कभी हमें पता न चलने दिया. कैसे इतना बड़ा त्याग किया माँ? क्या यही होता माँ होना? और बदले में यदि संतान पूछे कि क्या किया है आपने मेरे लिए? तो कैसा लगता होगा? क्या कभी लगा कि क्यूँ किये होंगे ये बलिदान? या फिर यह प्रश्न ही कभी ज़ेहन में नहीं आया होगा? सोचा होगा कि ऐसी क्या गलती हुई कि बच्चे को यह ख़याल आया और दोबारा न आये उसके लिए प्रयासरत रहीं? कैसे इतना असीम धैर्य पाया?

अब बड़ी हुई हूँ तो बहुत सी इच्छाएं हैं ह्रदय में. जैसे आपने खुद कड़ी धूप सह कर मुझे छाया दी, वैसे ही अब मैं आपको ठंडी छाँव में रखना चाहती हूँ. जो कभी आपने ख़्वाब देखे होंगे उन्हें पुनः जीवंत कर साकार करवाना चाहती हूँ. मातृ-ऋण तो कभी चुक नहीं सकता पर अपने जीवन का लक्ष्य आपको अनंत ख़ुशी और सुख देना मानती हूँ. यदि इस उद्देश्य के आस पास भी फटक पायी तो खुद को धन्य मानूँगी.

बस एक ही बात बोल सकती हूँ माँ, सिर कृतज्ञता से स्वयं झुक जाता है जब भी आपका चेहरा सामने आता है. आपका एक अंश, आप ही के कारण हूँ माँ, धन्य हूँ कि आपकी बेटी हूँ माँ. 

असलियत

कहते हैं लोग कई

कि

फितरत में है मेरी रूखापन.

शायद किसी रोज़ 

एक बीज को भी
ऐसा ही कुछ

कहा होगा किसी ने 

और गुस्से से 

फ़ेंक दिया होगा
मिट्टी पे.

फ़िर,

आई होगी बरसात

और उसके बाद

गुनगुनी धूप.

फूटें होंगे अंकुर 

उस कठोर निष्ठुर बीज से.

मिट्टी, पानी और धूप

के प्यार से

अंकुर बदला

एक मासूम पौधे में

और पौधा

एक वृहद् वृक्ष में.

शायद वही वृक्ष 

आज मेरे आँगन में

मीठे रसीले फलों से झुका खड़ा है

और बाँट रहा है 

अपनी ठंडी छाया 

फलों की महकती बयार.

क्या होता 

अगर फेंका न होता

गुस्से से मिट्टी में उसे?

Ranjish hi sahi dil hi - live (Mehdi Hassan)

The girl with infectious dreams

She was three and a half year old when they discovered it. Her mother had started suspecting a little earlier but dismissed the thought as a figment of imagination. How could someone’s dreams be infectious? It can happen only metaphorically. No two people, no matter how close they are, can dream exactly same dreams. Even if they do, this is an extremely rare occurrence. But now it was confirmed. Her dreams were infectious. Whoever slept next to her dreamt the same dreams as her. What was the meaning of this? Was she a witch? A bad omen for the family? They could not tell as nothing considerably bad had happened to them since her birth. 

She looked at them discussing all this with her deep, dark eyes. She understood some of it. Most importantly, she understood that from that day on she would never get to sleep with her mother. She would have to sleep alone. She would not have her mother to cling on to when she had a nightmare. She would have to deal with the fear of lizards crawling on her bed or some dark eyes staring from behind the curtains on her own. She did not protest because though she was very young she had understood that nothing would make them change their plans. They gave her the pink colored teddy for comfort.

Soon they realized that despite sleeping in different rooms, her dreams were as infectious as before. They hadn’t dreamt a personal dream since long. They were getting increasingly desperate for dreaming their own dreams. Dreams are an intensely personal experience. They could not keep dreaming someone else’s dreams forever. What would happen to their individuality? How would they vent out their emotions via dreams? Dreams also help you know yourself better but they longer had this option available. Their life was in a limbo especially after this discovery because earlier they were ignorant about the truth that was insidiously eating away their self without them realizing it, just like an undetected cancer. It is only when the cancer is detected that people’s lives change. Similarly, this discovery had put up an existential question in front of them.

Her dreams probably slipped out from the opened windows, or from the slit beneath the doors. So, they built a soundproof room for her with no openings whatsoever. She was to sleep in that for as long as she lived there. They were determined to get their dreams back and wanted to leave no stone unturned. She silently saw all that with those dark, deep eyes. No expression could be read in those eyes except for a blank resignation.

I first met her when she was six. I was a distant relative of her father. When her parents learnt that I was into analysis of dreams, they invited me over. Many researchers and other curious kinds had contacted them for letting them conduct research on their daughter but they refused. They could not let her become a lab specimen. Now that their dreams had become their own (the idea of a sound-proof room had worked), they did feel guilty about making their young daughter sleep alone in such a room.   However, the greed of having personal dreams was far too strong to let her sleep with them.

When I first saw her, she was sitting in her room reading a book. Long curly locks covered her face. A beautiful face!  She looked up from her book when she detected my silent presence. The very first look told me that she was unlike other kids. Her eyes were not like that of a 6-year old. They were deep and stable. They did not seem to belong to the rest of her body. They looked aged, with not even a hint of childishness. It was hard to maintain my gaze while looking at those eyes. But I did manage to do that with considerable effort. I saw a small vortex in the middle of her eyes, not at the surface of her eyes but somewhere deep inside. It was too small to be noticed but no discerning eye could escape it. I wondered why her parents never mentioned that to me. They probably never noticed it. So I decided against speaking about it to them. The vortex was moving with considerable speed but not fast enough to create any alarm. I suppose the presence of the vortex in the depth of her eyes gave semblance of stability to her gaze which I had found striking at first.

So was it the presence of this vortex that was responsible for those infectious dreams? It probably engulfed all the dreams inside it and then spread her dreams around. This was only a hypothesis and there was no way to confirm it. In any case, I needed to know if her dreams were really infectious. So I decided to sleep in the same room with her. When her parents told her so, they thought she would be happy as she had been sleeping alone all these years and finally would have a company. But she did not seem particularly happy though she did look slightly surprised at this announcement. She merely nodded and accepted the decision that her parents had made for her. I tried to find out the reason behind such a cold response. From what her parents told me, she was not totally expressionless. Though not bursting with emotions like children of her age, she did show normal expressions. Probably she was more comfortable sleeping alone and saw me as an intruder. Or probably she knew that I was not going to be there forever and when I would leave, she would again have to sleep alone.

We spoke about mundane things for couple of hours before we went to bed so that she gets more comfortable sleeping in the same room with me. I had difficulty sleeping initially. It seemed like my mind was resisting any kind of encroachment into its territory. But it finally gave up and I started dreaming. It was amazing how the next morning I clearly remembered all my dreams. None of them belonged to me. The symbols, the people, all were alien to me. I did figure in one of them but was just present in the background. I did not have to confirm with her but I anyways did. As I had expected, her dreams had infiltrated my mind. For all the days I stayed with her, I had stopped dreaming my own dreams. I was controlled by her dreams.

I decided to visit her again next year to carry on with my research. But more than the research, it was my curiosity that brought me back to her. I wanted to know what shape were her dreams taking and if they had the same power. I got my answer as soon as I met her. The vortex in her eyes was speedier than before. It did not look menacing just now but had acquired greater speed than before and her eyes were even more stable. I knew that this time, my experience would be more intense than the last time. I was proved right in the very first night. Her dreams had started affecting me even when I was awake. I was losing myself to her dreams. It was becoming increasingly difficult to sustain myself in this de-personalizing situation. I was no longer me. The week that I spent there saw me turning into a zombie-like creature. It totally shook me to the core.

I did not have the courage to see her again. I lost touch with her parents too. But after couple of years I heard from them again. I inquired about her. They told me that her dreams had started penetrating the walls of her sound proof room. Even their neighbours were getting infected with her dreams that were getting increasingly bizarre. They had stopped living their own lives. They wanted me to come to their place for one last time. ‘One last time’? Why would they say so? Probably they did not want to trouble me any further. I tried to look for excuses but could not come up with any. So I decided to visit her. The house looked a little menacing. Things looked out of place and the air was a little too stifling. She had just woken up. From what her parents told me, she spent most of her day sleeping. She looked at me. The vortex had now become faster than ever before. It had to be stopped before it destroyed everything around it. It was already on its way. Her parents looked ghostly. They tried to stay awake as much as possible and tried to sleep when she was awake. But now that she spent most of her time sleeping, they had little choice but to dream the dreams that she would conjure for them.

Her parents said that they called me because she wanted to meet me for the one last time. I smiled at her and said that this was not the last time I was seeing her. I will definitely come again. But that got no response from anyone. She had apparently become really attached to me in my earlier visits to her. She would inquire about me often but her parents told her that they could not trace me. I understood that the real reason was that they realized that I was probably too scared to come visit them again. But why now I thought to myself. She told me she knew that her dreams were infectious. She had heard about it from her parents but she herself did not realize that. She felt deeply sorry about it but did not know how to stop it. The situation had worsened as she could hardly stay up for more than 3-4 hours at a stretch these days no matter how hard she tried. But that day she stayed up talking to me for several hours. We had dinner together. Her parents had told me earlier that they had booked a hotel for me to stay overnight.

I went to the hotel room and thought over the conversation we had. I realized that the person I was talking to was not the person to whom those eyes belonged. It was almost like two people were living in one body. While she was expressing her grief for causing so much pain to her parents, her entire body agreed with her. But not those eyes. The vortex had its same menacing speed and looked ready to gulp everything down. I felt sorry for her as those eyes were not hers. They would not listen to her. They belonged to the other invisible person inside her. She was being controlled by that person, just like her dreams were controlling everyone else around her.

Next morning the weather suddenly turned sour. It was terribly windy. Several trees had fallen down and many houses were damaged. My flight was postponed. I was supposed to have my breakfast with them before leaving but could not leave the hotel room. I tried calling them several times before her father answered the call. His voice was unsure. The way he said ‘hello’ told me something was wrong. She died last night, he said. The receiver almost fell off my hands. Now I knew the meaning of ‘one last time’. They had put her to sleep forever. I knew it. They said that it was probably food poisoning but I know there was no food involved in the poisoning. I was silent for couple of seconds before asking him to close her eyes if they were open. He was surprised and said they were open indeed. She had died with her eyes open. The eyes did not want to give up so soon I thought to myself. Since she died that way, they did not want to disturb it. I requested them to do so without further delay. Hesitatingly he closed them. In some time the weather became normal again. I decided against visiting her house.

I changed my phone number and moved to some other place. I never visited that city again. I had a strange mix of guilt and relief inside me. I remembered those lips and her last words kept ringing in my ears. I knew I could not have done anything to save her, but I was there when she died and that was enough to fill me with guilt. However, I also felt relieved as I could see a calamity unfolding. The vortex in her eyes had to be stopped. There was no other way than this. She had to be put to sleep forever. I could understand the pain of her parents but they had no other option left. Their daughter was no longer theirs. In fact she was never theirs. She belonged to those eyes that controlled her existence ever since she was born. I knew that they did not kill her for themselves. If this was the case, they would have done this long time back. They killed her because her dreams had started infecting others. It was taking the shape of an epidemic. The neighbours had already started complaining. They wanted to put an end to it before it threw the entire place off balance.

Some time back I heard from a relative that her parents died soon after their daughter died when their car was caught in a blizzard and the engine caught fire. Their bodies were charred beyond recognition. Strange way to die, that relative said. But I knew that it was the last act of revenge by those eyes. 

A tolerably hot summer afternoon and the guy with a spade

I was standing outside an auditorium in a dusty corridor on a summer afternoon.  Obviously, the place had not been cleaned since several days. The dust had now become a part of the floor and the walls. It seemed that removing the dust now would rob the place of its essence. I suppose this very thought forbade the cleaners to broom the floor. It was tolerably hot that day. I understand that the expression “tolerably hot” does not convey much meaning as what may be unbearably hot for one may not be so for another. I have seen people working under sun barefooted when it is 42 degrees outside while I would be endlessly complaining about the heat sitting inside my air conditioned car sipping my cold drink usually falling sick if I would have to stand out in the sun. Not that I was always this way. There was a time when I would spend several hours out in the sun during the hottest hours of the day. But now my tolerance has gone down. So, it was a tolerably hot day for me while I was standing outside the auditorium.

What exactly was I doing there standing alone in that dusty corridor? Not much of fun there for sure. I had accompanied my sister to this place who was practicing in the auditorium infested with pigeons and their droppings. She thought that I had nothing to do at home and would be better off seeing her practice songs for an upcoming event. I protested initially saying that I had to finish off a book by Murakami but she still thought I had nothing to do. I gave in. We reached this pigeon hole. I wondered how could someone practice in such a place. But according to my sister this was the only place available for practice. I tried to listen to their music for sometime amidst the cooing of the pigeons who were loudly protesting against the human encroachment of their home.

After a while I thought it would be better if I take a whiff of fresh air before my breath starts smelling of pigeons. And that was when I found myself standing in that dusty corridor with ancient dust all around. At a distance of 50 meters I saw a boy of around 15-16 years of age digging the cemented road. I could not see why would someone employ him for such a task but there he was digging. His movements were rather slow and he looked bored but he continued digging the cemented road.

Just as I was watching him I suddenly felt a pain. It rose from my stomach and ended in my throat and stayed there for long. I was not alarmed by this sudden excitement in my viscera. I have experienced this pain several times. I knew what it was.  It was the pain of loneliness. It has vicarious origins, never personal. It is not like I experience this pain whenever I see someone alone. Far from it! I have had it even when I see someone in the midst of a myriad of people. It is the loneliness of the soul. The soul can feel lonely even when amongst several people. Similarly, a person sitting alone in his room can be perfectly happy with his soul not feeling the slightest agony of loneliness. It is usually the eyes that give away the secrets of the soul but not always so. Sometimes it is the way the lips quiver that squeal on the soul, sometimes it is the unsure hands.

In this particular case, the boy’s soul was withering in its lonely existence. There was certain forlornness in his movements that conveyed the loneliness pretty clearly. I seldom fail to notice such lonely souls. It is almost like my eyes are always looking for them. And I am almost never wrong. I am not a person whom you can call talented. In fact, people usually cite me as an example when talking of a totally talentless individual. But I think otherwise. I think everyone has at least one talent. In my case, it is the ability to discover lonely souls. Not that this talent is especially useful. On the contrary, it fills me with sadness to see these lonely souls as their loneliness radiates special kind of pathos that engulfs me from all around and it requires great efforts to come out of the grief.

But despite being the discoverer of loneliness in others, I have never felt lonely. I enjoy my solitude. I do not have too many friends and I hardly go out. People think that because of this I must be gripped in lonely gloominess. Someone once called me a recluse. But I am not a recluse. It is just that I enjoy my company over the company of many others whom I find rather shallow and two-dimensional. Unfortunately, that excludes more than half of the people I know so I have limited choice. But loneliness has never managed to make me its prey though it has tried to do so several times. I am sure it has special hatred against me for detecting its insidious presence in others when they themselves remain oblivious to its presence inside them many times. It usually whisks past me, but that is about it. Never has there been an encounter between it and my soul. They still remain strangers to each other. All it can do is to make me sad about its presence in others. Just like the pain I felt when I saw the guy with a spade on that summer afternoon. I realized that I could not take away his deep seated loneliness.

I just stood there looking at him as I was rendered motionless by the intensity of the loneliness of his soul. I suppose my gaze was very strong as he lifted his head suddenly to look at me. I gave him a smile, trying to put up a small fight for him against his loneliness. He looked around himself to confirm if I was actually smiling at him. He did not want to take a chance by smiling back at me in case my smile was for someone else. It seemed it had been quite some time since someone smiled at him and also since he had smiled because his smile looked a little rusted due to disuse. He had difficulty working those muscles that had not been used since long. Finally a confused smile did manage to creep on his dry lips. My smile was becoming a little too heavy for me to carry it on for long. I decided to go inside before he noticed my uneasiness. I turned back to walk towards the auditorium where someone was singing Bryan Adams’ “Please Forgive Me”. I turned to look at the boy one last time with this song playing in my head. He had gone back to his digging and was no longer looking at me.

Clockwork women

It was a strange morning! The colours seemed to have lost their essence. The reds, the oranges, the blues, the violets, all looked subdued and frightened. It seemed as if someone had reprimanded them for revealing their true bright selves and therefore they had to wear a veil to not let their brilliance show.

I was in a hurry to reach my classes on time, yet I didn’t fail to notice the change. Though the colours were pale, I felt as if the happenings of the world were clearer to me than ever before. While I was walking towards the bus stop, I saw several women walking around. They seemed normal until I saw their backs. Each had a key behind! They were clockwork women! I saw faces that resembled my friends, cousins, aunts, and neighbours. Was I in a toy land? I couldn’t tell! Everything seemed so real. I heard them laugh and talk amongst each other like always. The only thing different about them was the key on their backs. Was it always there and it was only now that I noticed it? Was it because of lack of sleep that I was seeing things? I had no way to find out. I was too late for my class to stop and ask them.

I couldn’t find a bus so had to walk to my class. I would be extremely late but that was no excuse to not attend it. As I was walking a sudden realization added absurdity to that day which had already been far too surreal. I could see and hear things through the walls. I could hear the silent murmurs coming from women around. I could see the keys of the clockwork women being wound up by the men of the house, sometimes father, sometimes brother, sometimes husband. Strangely, all these men had a tail coming out which made them look like some strange animal. The world was becoming increasingly bizarre.

These clockwork women could move only as much as they were wound up by their men. They were programmed to act in a particular way. They were not supposed to speak but listen. When their winding would end, they would stand in a corner with a plastic smile on their faces. When needed someone would wind them up again and they would perform their routine tasks. They were required to be dolled up all the time like a perfectly manicured garden which is a source of nighbour’s envy and owner’s pride. Soft and smooth skin, not a millimeter of body hair for which they would have to undergo long grueling sessions once in every two weeks and once a week for the more rebellious ones.

The clockwork women could not express their desires and opinions. They were either not programmed to do so or their winding ran out when they tried to do so. They were kicked when they deviated from their expected behavior and were not supposed to retaliate to the abuses. They had to bear it all with a silent smile. But I could see that their smiles never reached their eyes. I wondered if they had the energy inside to let go of the key and function on their own. I wanted to ask them these questions but I was getting late. They worked the entire day but were required to be properly dressed in their sarees and skirts. Some of them wore jeans too. Whatever be their dressing, they all wore the same sad smile.

Though I was late, my curiosity was intact. I tried to listen to the conversations between these women. Some of them talked about their men, some about their children. There were some who talked softly about the need to have a key. Some girls who had recently discovered that they had keys on their backs were being explained its importance by their clockwork mothers. Some were already planning to pull it and throw it away no matter how much it hurt. But they were scared as there were all kinds of stories circulating about women who threw away their keys and ended up paying for it by their blood. There was a general feeling of learned helplessness in the air which was stifling.

I discovered that I was perspiring profusely. Was it the walking or the strange happenings in my surrounding that soaked me in my sweat? I couldn’t answer that question too, just like I was unable to answer the reason behind the bizarreness around me. The perspiration had increased to the extent that it was forming poodles of sweat around me. I was going to drown in my own sweat. I ran as fast as I could but my clothes were heavy and offered resistance. I was drowning. Sweaty water reached to my neck. I could hardly breathe.

I opened my eyes and found myself in my room lying on my bed. I probably fell unconscious and someone brought me back. Or was I dreaming? I don’t know. But my body was still wet with sweat. It was a hot summer night and the air conditioning was not working. One of those frequent power cuts. I still didn’t know if it was a dream or was I saved from drowning and brought to my house by a noble soul. May be I slept through out and was woken up by the indomitable heat. I knew I had tumbled upon a truth which no one spoke about. It was almost an epiphany! Instinctively I touched my back to check if there was a key there. “Not as yet!” I thought. With that the air conditioner started working again and the room became cool enough to lull me into a deep sleep in the darkest hour of the night. 

Night

Night, the maiden, is here again. Every time she reveals a different side of herself, bringing strange experiences along. Sometimes she is a sensuous masseuse pressing all the right spots and lulling you into a blissful sleep. You can feel her smooth silky touch on your body; a touch so subtle that it seeps inside each and every tissue. At other times she treats you like her plaything. Tossing and turning you over and over again throughout the time she rules over the world. Sometimes she likes to play the game where she makes you stare at her dark invisible eyes for long until she enters you through the invisible conduit between your eyes and hers and then she becomes you and you become her. You can feel her presence in your veins. She runs in your body like your blood. You can then see the world with the invisible eyes of the night and the darkness of the world is then as clear as the light of the day. The darkness of the night becomes one with the shadows inside you. You turn into a black hairy spider spreading your sticky web around, trying to make everyone who comes along your prey devouring them thoroughly.

Night at times also lends you her cloak of darkness which cannot be penetrated even by the most powerful lights. You wear this cloak and become a nameless, faceless entity. Your presence is never felt; your absence never missed. You become a shadow, dragging along this heavy cloak of invisibility. Your heart is overworked because your blood turns into a dark viscous fluid. Your body is languid and listless, your mind numb. You want to throw away the cloak and feel light but you are afraid of the light and the eyes that can see in the light. Night has given you an armour against questioning, expectant eyes. You feel sick but it will have to remain this way. You don’t know if you would be able to live with the cloak and its heaviness. You don’t know if you would ever have the ability to throw it away. The night is your only companion. She calls out to you every day and you talk to her for hours together. She has been your only friend. You tell her about your past and the present. Future too features in the conversation. She alone has the patience to listen to your reflections, your fears, your insecurities. She listens with utmost interest, never judgmental.

Night is the only respite for the invisibles of the world. They come out only when the sun leaves the world. Night is the pacifier of the disquieted souls. She is the virgin mother of many nursing them as the children she never had. Her comforting coolness soothes wounds of the heart and the mind. She is a sorceress of some kind. Her magical powers transform insects to humans. These insect –humans perform humanly activities in the company of the night before turning into insects again when the sun returns.

No doubt night is my best friend!

A letter from Mom and Dad- - I kinda cried when i first read it.[HD].mp4

The king of melancholia.

Wrote this one several months back.

Oh you! The king of melancholia,
Why do your lips never twitch upwards?
You, who never fail to frown.
Since ages you have been aged,
Youth has never been your friend.
But why do you come in my dreams?
Why do I always find myself in your shrine?
Wearing your cloak day and night,
I save myself from the burn of light.
Strange comfort your heaviness gives,
Away from the mundane blithe.
Besotted by the beguiler,
I relish my days getting blacker.
To your kingdom I always retreat
Escaping questions in the eyes I meet.
With you I fade into the background,
Far from those maddening sounds.

This Is Why Many People Don't Eat Meat:"From Farm To Fridge"!

Extremely disturbing! If you can't stop having milk, then atleast stop eating the flesh and bones of these innocent animals!

Kevin Richardson (Lion Man) Leões

Friends!

Anton Chekhov.

Was reading Chekhov today. He definitely is one of my favourite authors. The writer seems to be in a perpetual contemplative mood which before you know turns into brooding. I suppose this can be attributed to the tragedies he faced in his personal life. His writing is profound to say the least. The forlornness experienced by some of his characters noticeably in "The Bishop" seems to be his own as the intensity with which it is expressed shows that the feelings are personal to the writer and not vicarious. There seems to be a lot of chaos inside him which is suggested by the sentences of his stories which though are complete overtly, leave the readers feeling a little ambiguous as a lot is left for the readers to fill up through their imagination. Here, the writer successfully manages to transfer his existential angst on to his readers. 

koi yeh kaise bataayen....

The pain depicted in this song is scalding..

Silli Hawa

Another masterpiece by Gulzaar and R D Burman! One has no option but to get lost in the beauty of the song!

My muse

Like a butterfly, you stay with me for a while before you fly away to unseen lands; leaving the colours of your skin behind on the spot you last touched me before your flight. I look at the remains of our meeting with a wistful smile, smelling the colours of my muse with longing eyes. Sometimes I think of running behind you with a net in my hand to catch you forever but soon realize that some circles are vicious, and some chases endless!

Like the clouds in the sky, you keep changing your forms. One day you are a flower in the garden, second day you resemble the script of God. And just like the son of the sky, you seem far from my reach. I look at you beseechingly to descend down to me and when you do choose to listen to my eyes, I get soaked in your musings.

You come and go at your will. Sometimes you come at the thick of the night when I stand in my balcony staring at the inky night, at other times you come to me furtively on a summer afternoon, climbing the window of my room and stay with me long enough to quench my parched soul.

Sometimes you are the monsoon rains, and sometimes you are the cool evening breeze whispering sweet nothings in my ears. At times you stay with me late into the night until the fairy of sleep does us apart. At other times I wake up with you by my side looking at me with curious eyes. I pick you up and place you on my table and start scribbling in my diary. With the last word I write, you fade away into oblivion. My heart sinks again. The wait has begun. I don’t know when, I don’t know where would you come to meet me again. I keep standing with outstretched arms, waiting to embrace you for as long as I can before you slip away from my grip like quicksand...

The politics of subsidies.

The socialistic orientation of the government of India has resulted in a plethora of subsidies ranging from food grains to kerosene to water. The rationale behind providing subsidies was to make the poor avail basic amenities at an affordable price. However, most of the subsidies have failed to achieve this goal. government provides a number of subsidies and it would be hard to look into the efficacy of all of them so I would be looking only at a few of them including the much talked about petroleum subsidies and a lesser known urban water subsidy.

Due to the subsidies provided by the government on petro goods, huge losses were incurred by Oil Marketing Companies (OMCs) forcing the government to issue oil bonds to them. This resulted in huge fiscal deficit and also passionate public debate. As a result, the government stopped issuing oil bonds to OMCs. And now after the Additional Collector of Manmad, Yashwant Sonawane was burnt alive by kerosene mafia this issue has again caught the imagination of people.

Considered as “poor man’s fuel”, kerosene is heavily subsidized in our country. A litre costs Rs. 12.70 and the remaining cost of Rs. 20 is borne by the government and the OMCs. However, the fuel rarely makes it to the poor of the country. Instead, a lot of it is either misused to adulterate diesel and petrol or is smuggled to the neighbouring countries where it is priced much higher. According to Assocham, an estimated 38% of kerosene is illegally diverted away from the PDS. This massive leakage of kerosene from our system cannot happen without the collusion of government officials. Oil mafia has become big in our country and every concerned authority has its hands soaked in it. That the benefits of the subsidies do not reach the target population is no secret. In fact the poor end up paying a much higher price as most of the fair price shops collude with the mafia. Yet the government is unwilling to withdraw subsidy from kerosene sighting ‘political compulsions’ thus draining the exchequer.

Now it is not hard to see what these ‘political compulsions’ exactly are. Even after the Manmad tragedy the government has not taken any concrete steps to clamp down the oil mafia. Except for Maharashtra, nowhere else is the administration confiscating illegally stored kerosene. Why? Obviously, due to certain ‘political compulsions.’ Millions of liters of kerosene is pilfered here and crores of rupees are made and everyone gets to smell the heady odour of kerosene money.

PDS kerosene is blue coloured in order to make the identification easy and is called as blue kerosene in common parlance. However, after the death of Yashwant Sonawane and Manju Nath earlier I would rather call it ‘red kerosene’, coloured red by the blood of these two and many others.

Similarly, LPG too is hugely subsidized. In Delhi we pay Rs.345 for a cylinder when the cylinder actually costs Rs. 695. So the government ends up paying the remaining Rs. 350. Numerous studies have proved that the poor hardly use LPG. Most of those using it can afford to pay a higher cost. Again, like kerosene subsidy, the urban poor using LPG mostly buy it from the black market at a higher cost as they do not have a gas connection. Also, subsidized LPG gets diverted to commercial and transport sector thus resulting in mis-targeting of government funds.

To understand the level of subsidy provided by the Indian government let us have a look at the price of an LPG cylinder and kerosene in our poorer neighbours. In Pakistan an LPG cylinder costs Rs. 615, in Nepal Rs. 776, in Sri Lanka Rs. 757 and in Bangladesh Rs. 507. Similarly, a litre of kerosene costs Rs. 37.48 in Pakistan, Nepal Rs. 40.64, Bangladesh Rs. 28, and in Sri Lanka Rs. 22.77. Clearly the Indian government has heavily subsidized these petro goods as compared to its neighbours. This explains why a lot of kerosene is smuggled to these countries. So our subsidies extend to our neighbours too. Following the maxim of “love thy neighbour” to the hilt, aren’t we?

Besides subsidizing petro goods, the government also subsidizes urban drinking water. According to an estimate, the government spends more than 0.5% of GDP in subsidizing water. This was meant to provide clean water at affordable rates to urban dwellers, primarily the poor. But as expected, the beneficiaries are the rich and the middle class. The poor slum dwellers have no access to clean drinking water. In fact they end up paying much higher costs for clean drinking water than the urban rich. 70-80% of the money spent on subsidizing water does not reach the poor.

As with most of the government schemes in India, the subsidy regime too exemplifies right intention but wrong implementation. The motive behind it cannot be questioned; however it has been distorted to serve selfish interests. Subsidies are provided in the developed countries as well but they reach the target population and thus serve their purpose well. In India subsidies have failed. PDS is fraught with corruption and pilferage and only help the corrupt become richer. The government lacks the will to correct the wrongdoings as it is funded by the embezzlers. The media has to make greater efforts and let the common people know the ugly truth behind the subsidy regime. There are other ways through which the poor can be helped, for instance through food/fuel stamps. These are not foolproof but lower the incidence of embezzlement and diversion. The subsidization of petro goods, especially kerosene, needs to end. In the name of the poor, the rich are minting money. The death of Mr. Sonawane has raised this issue once again and this time let the fire not be doused without having its due effect.

This time for Africa!

The Dark Continent is no longer dark! Individual torch lights have now come together creating dazzling sun-like radiance. The continent is aglow with the light of hope and sweet smell of ‘jasmine’ has perfumed the hearts and minds of these people. It all started in Tunisia, a tiny African country which most people had never heard about until now.

I remember how I looked a little baffled when I first met a Tunisian who went on to become a great friend. I had never even heard of the country 6 years back when I met her, leave alone knowing where in the world it was located. She, on the other hand, seemed to know quite a bit about India making me look like a total fool! A politically aware and active individual, she told me about the situation in her country, about how there are little political rights available to the Tunisians which attracts a large number of European tourists for its beautiful beaches. It was through her that I first learned about Ben Ali and his corrupt, autocratic regime. I asked her a rather naïve question then, “So why don’t you people revolt against him?” Her answer was simple. People have now got used to being subjugated. Any dissent is nipped in its bud. And they hardly have any example to follow as their neighbours fair no better on the democracy index. Nonetheless, she thought that change was much needed and there was simmering discontent amongst the people which hopefully would get channelized in the right direction someday.

Her words were proved right just couple of years down the lane. Educated, unemployed youth formed the bulwark of the revolution. They were able to topple one of the most autocratic regimes of the world and the ripples were to be felt as far as Russia. A tiny North African country has caught the imagination of people world over living under dictatorial governments. The autocrats of middle-east, North Africa, parts of central Asia are feeling the heat now and some of them have already taken some steps to placate their people but the spirit of revolution is spreading like wild fire.

After Tunisia, it is now the Egyptian streets that are boiling with anger against the dictatorial regime of Hosni Mubarak. Initially there was a lot of skepticism regarding the success of the Egyptian uprising but the “Million Man March” of February 1^st dispelled all the doubts. Egyptians are no longer ready to live under an autocrat. They want to send Mubarak away and establish a democratic regime and the world is with them.

Another African country that is seeing history being written is Sudan. Recently south Sudanese voted to secede from Sudan in a referendum in January 2011. Now, there are increased demands in Khartoum for democracy. High on revolutionary fervor transmitted to them by their fellow Africans, the Sudanese want to greater political and civil liberties.

Besides Africa, the Middle Eastern countries of Yemen, Lebanon, Syria, Jordan etc too are protesting against the autocrats ruling them. Yemen is the most conservative of all these countries. But here we have women protesting alongside men and no one is having any problem with that. The liberals, the conservatives, the feminists, the mullahs, all have forgotten their differences and are fighting for a greater cause. The facebook status of a Yemeni friend of mine sums the spirit of the people there. It says, “It's now or never...viva la revolution.”

It is worth noting that all these autocratic regimes have the support of western democracies. The West, particularly the US, has propped up these regimes to maintain its influence in this resource-rich region. But it has ended up losing goodwill amongst the common men who view the West with suspicion and in many cases, deep hatred.

When I learnt that the Tunisians had been able to remove their inefficient leader, the first thing I did was to send a congratulatory mail to my Tunisian friend. She sounded happy but also said that the greater challenge lay ahead in electing a good government. I again agree with her. The countries might very well succeed in ousting the inefficient leaders but the larger question is who would succeed them? These leaders have systematically killed every powerful voice of dissent. So it would be hard to find a suitable successor in these countries. The opposition is in shambles. In some of the countries the only united opposition is that of the Islamists who do not enjoy widespread support from people.

Africa has passed on the light of revolution to the rest of the world. Hopefully the jasmine which has started to blossom would turn into a beautiful flower retaining its fragrance for years to come.