Is the rising might of the Asian giants - India and China, the harbinger of a new cold war era?

In the later part of the twentieth century there existed political and military tensions between the western bloc and the eastern bloc (the major power centers dominating the world) which British author George Orwell called the “Cold War.” Unlike traditional wars, the cold war did not have casualties; it was a series of military muscle flexing exercises to establish dominance. In the 1970’s both parties reached a detente and the cold war was called off.

 The 21^st century has seen a change in the power dynamics of the world with the rise of the Asian giants; India and China playing key roles. In quest of prestige and dominance India and China are picking up where the US and Soviet Union left off.

China and India share a history when it comes to being “at daggers drawn” against each other. Border disputes over the Askai Chin region and the regions around the Macmohan line have led to wars, creating an air of severe hostility among the two, causing three major military conflicts: Sino-Indian War of 1962, the Chola incident in 1967, and the 1987 Sino-Indian skirmish.

 In recent times, China denied visa to Lt-Gen B S Jaswal, who was the commanding officer of the Jammu and Kashmir region, causing a stir. The Chinese version of Google maps showed Arunachal Pradesh as a part of China. Also in an act of defiance, China is seen to be empowering Pakistan with Nuclear arsenal following the old axiom “The enemy of enemy is a friend ipso-facto.”China and Pakistan have also participated in a joint military exercise “Shaheen-2”putting India in a political quagmire. In response to Shaheen-2, India and Japan (Both countries facing territorial issues with China) started their first-ever joint exercises in Indian waters as the countries took steps to tighten military ties. Even non-Asian countries have joined hands with India with the MALABAR Exercise to curb the assertiveness of China in Asia. Both India and China are forming allies to out-do each other, creating a nexus similar to the cold war era, thus ushering us into the cold war of the 21^st century.

Comparison between the countries have festered the already sore relations, creating mistrust. At this juncture, bilateral trade which stands at $73.9 Billion is the only ameliorating factor. The optimistic $100 Billion bilateral trade goal by 2015 might ease the tension between the two countries. Entering into an entente will give an impetus to trade, reinvigorating the ancient “Silk Road” that once glued the two nations.

 

Sense Of An Ending

My brother and I had planned a trip to Kolkata for the weekend. We would be staying at our cousin’s place whose address I happened to have in an sms. We took one of those Volvos shuttling daily between Bhubaneswar and Kolkata. Plan was: we reach at 6 hours in the morning, call our cousin, he picks us from the bus stand. But the driver had probably smoked more marijuana than usual, so he got excited and we reached Kolkata at 3 hours in the morning. It was the weekend so obviously my hardworking-software-engineer-cousin was in deep slumber trying to get his body clock right, hence failed to answer our calls. We found few taxis, but they blatantly said “NO”, as I tried reading the sms out to them. I woke them up at 3 in the morning so they avenged it by giving a sadistic grin after saying no. Then we met this taxiwalla(excellent multi-tasker), who kept yawning and rubbing his eyes trying to erase it off his face while scratching his potbelly vigorously. I told him the address (almost remembered it after narrating it so many times), and he shook his head in approval while also making an attempt to crack his neck bones, multi-tasking at its best.

We hurled our backpacks through the window to the backseat and got into the yellow submarine. I hate being tricked so I kept tracking my location through GPS. I was relieved that he was taking the right direction, so I let go of my phone, partly to conserve charge and partly to get lost in the awesome night portrait of the city. No matter what time of the year it is, morning 4O’clock is always cool and refreshing. I observed people sleeping in dim corners of the street. Even stray dogs were inactive during this hour, tired after chasing numerous cars and barking at them without knowing why. Several people who worked early had woken up and were brushing their teeth near a public tap. The sky looked deep blue like an ocean illuminated with a bright light source in the corner. Even in the empty street the taxi driver didn’t fail to demonstrate his driving prowess, cutting through lanes and nearly-missing light posts, either he had a nature’s call to attend or he wanted to break his previous time record. We sped through contrasting locations, clean, showroom lined urban areas to old dilapidated housing complexes and ghettos. Kolkata is an extremely populated city. The surplus population adds to the chaos and raucousness. It is called “The city of Joy”. What I saw was a sleeping Kolkata, painted in Blue and yellow. Waiting for people to wake up and set its life into motion. There was no other sound apart from the roaring of the submarine. I imagined how things would be different in a couple of hours, the streets busy with people jogging to work, the old trams going up and down the street. The street lined with hawkers, offering a wide range of products ranging from strawberries to leather belts at unimaginable prices. The air filled with everyday noises and the hawkers shrieking their offers, desperately trying to grab the attention of a potential customer. We crossed many traffic posts, yellow lights blinking in unison. Had it been the day we would have had to wait in the breeze less heat for hours to get past so many of them.

My imagination ceased its free reign when we halted. The multi-tasker had pulled over the car on the sideway opposite a goliath building. The steel plate read “Infinity Mall”. I admired my deduction skills and waited for the driver to get out and take his much needed leak. But it was not the case, i was not Sherlock Holmes. He said, “Yehi hai!” with a hint of anger for consuming his precious time and not getting down. Whether he was sleepy or I was sleepy it was difficult to comprehend. Still i could not imagine how I had enunciated “GreenField Heights” as “Infinity Mall”. My brother having a bad temper started the routine argument. I grabbed my phone and refreshed my location. The blue dot started blinking opposite Infinity Mall. However, my destination was not showing in the near proximity. After reloading the map the navigator showed 21kms to GreenField Heights. I showed the driver the phone and said “Mujhe Yahan Jaana Hai”. After few seconds of observation he retorted back “Toh PehleBolna Tha Na!” I felt loss of words. I felt the need to rest my back and exhale a few deep breaths. My brother had completely lost his head, so i could not sit back. I told the taxi driver, that i will guide you to the place. He asked for my phone and i showed him the location. He made a mental map and said he will take us there (without my stupid phone guiding him). This time I did not blink, i kept staring at the blue dot with hypnotizing concentration. Halfway through the journey, Google maps and Multi-tasker were in harmony. After a turn, they mismatched completely. I immediately plunged forward to point this out. The driver gave me a condescending look and continued driving. This is when my negative instincts started juggling my head.

My mother is a daily watcher of crime patrol. When I sit with her she keeps telling me these horrible stories, about people killing each other for mundane things and quarrels over trifles. I don’t blame her. Research has proved that we are prone to like negative news more than positive ones. I resisted hearing them initially but then I fell for it. It was more interesting than mainstream news anyways. I started scripting what would be our story. I made a rough estimate of my net worth (organs excluded). I was confused between being a hero who fights till death and an aam aadmi who begs to live and submits to his atrocity. We halted again. There was another yellow taxi parked ahead. From the rear I could see the silhouette of the driver who was smoking with his elbows stretched out of the driver window. Our driver walked towards him. This guy is his accomplice, his partner in crime, i thought. Maybe they are discussing what should be done with us. Maybe he is enquiring whether the safe house where all the operations were done is vacant or engaged. After a one minute talk the other driver gesticulated something, couldn’t observe clearly but our driver shook his head in approval and confirmation. We drove away taking the adjacent left turn. This area was dark, but thankfully it was almost daybreak and the deep blue sky now seemed diluted. “Bhaiya, hum kahan jaa rahe hain?” I enquired, keeping my voice firm. “wahin, jahaan aap jaana chahte hain”, he replied, his voice low and clam.

After a ten minute drive we entered an urban estate. The massive gate had steel alphabets riveted to the wooden frame. It Read “Green Field Heights”. And I felt all the adrenaline go into my urinary bladder. We got down and it was payment time. He did not charge anything substantial nor did he argue much. As we started walking towards my cousin’s apartment I laughed, for being so cynical and judgemental. I laugh as to how horrible stories of a mere minority can make our imaginations go wild. I thanked god for allowing me to keep both of my kidneys, my phone and my iPod. We say that our biggest enemies are Corruption, poverty, illiteracy. But I feel our biggest enemy is Cynicism.        

UiD=Unity in Diversity, seriously ??

“Unity in diversity” was one phrase that was ubiquitous in all essays on India during school days. We read about how India is a cocktail of so many languages (1652 “mother tongues” to be precise), cultures and religions, all under one national brand. As a child I never ceased to be fascinated by the diverse culture. But taking into account the various events and advancements will make me think otherwise and hence I conclude that Unity in diversity is nothing but a dubious assumption which I been tricked to believe in.

The Indian demography is highly convoluted. The south Indians have more resemblance with the Sri Lankans, the North Indians are more similar to Pakistanis, and the east Indians are more like the Bangladeshis. So basically, we are extremely heterogeneous groups juxtaposed in a common piece of land which we call INDIA. India is the seventh largest country, and as we go from top to bottom there is a change, in the complexion, in habits and culture, with every state seeming like a new country. The fact that we Indians were diverse was used by the British to exploit us and hence implement their tried and tested “divide and rule” policy. But what’s sad is that even as we bid the British goodbye, the anti community loathing continued to flow through our DNA. Needless to say, the Hindu and Muslim equilibrium rests on the edge of a sword with minor altercations possessing potential of a nationwide massacre. But it is not just religion to which this hatred is constrained. Regional hatred also thrives among us.

The North Indians (NI) despise the South Indians (SI). The term “madrassi” which was coined by the British still finds its application among the NI masses. While NI are extravagant and ostentatious, the SI are humble and more education oriented. SI hate the NI because of their in-your-face attitude and lack of civil discipline (which NI fashionably call “tashan”) while NI people feel the SI (or kaale log) are overeducated and certainly lack “tashan”, hence the abomination. During the 1990’s Shiv Sena party of Maharashtra coined the phrase “lungi hatao pungi bajao” to ridicule SI languages, clearly citing the alarming levels of hatred and prejudice.

It is not just about SI v/s NI battle, discrimination and hatred is rampant, a huge chunk of Indians call the north east Indians “chinkies”, which is a term considered to be racist in parts of England. Many a times NE Indians (NEI) are asked if they were Chinese, deliberately to ridicule and make fun. Till this date NEI struggle to be a part of India and have developed a passionate aversion towards foreigners (Read: Indians). Irom Sharmila has fasted for more than 500 weeks, yet failed to receive any sort of attention until recently. In many parts of NE India law and order is haywire. A recent report showed LPG and petrol prices skyrocketing to unimaginable levels in NE India, yet the government refused to blink, perhaps it was busy solving problems of more important constituencies.

The discrimination does not stop with religion, region, caste or community. One of the most flourishing genres of discrimination is “complexion”. We Indians were fascinated by the British, no matter how badly they treated us we served them. We wanted to live like them and be like them someday. I guess this is the only plausible explanation of our obsession towards white complexion. INDIANS ARE OBSESSED WITH FAIRNESS! We outnumber white folks when it comes to skin color discrimination. Ostensibly beauty is a subset of Fairness in our country. There are numerous Ads endorsed by superstars which portray a dark complexioned guy whose life was completely screwed up (because of his color, of course!) until he used the whitening cream which brought pretty girls and success into his life. Choosy parents are always in search of a “potential” match for their progeny; hence they land up writing matrimonial Ads. The search ends when the desired level of fairness is achieved (we want our grandchildren to be fair/beautiful! they argue). Hence there is always a need to “see” the bride. White people are branded are the stalwarts of racism, but at least we find black models in the United Colors of Benetton billboard. There are black people flourishing in the Showbiz and entertainment sector in the west compared to India where we seldom see a dark complexioned model or actor doing well.

We Indians are pure Racists. But we will never admit it. We will always point our fingers towards the west and criticize it, while aspiring to be like the west. We say they don’t have culture. But what is our culture? Outsourcing? Fairness creams? Sadly, our culture died with the Vedas. We are today a culturally challenged nation. We are adopting cultures and practices which have been divorced by the west. It is high time that we look in the mirror and find our true self. Reminds me the song “Hey kaala Bandar, bahar hai ya andar?” After more than sixty years of independence what we need today is national integration to hold our country together. Perhaps, elimination of roaming charges is the first step.         

            

Corruption in our DNA?

Politics is defined as the practice and profession of conducting political affairs. But in our country it is something that is akin to corruption and misdoing. Since my childhood days, I was told that politics was a dirty game. My callow brain interpreted it as something that was tailor made for people who were powerful and ruthless. I believe almost every kid was brought up with a similar definition of politics. It was never a career option, if there existed a family legacy it was a different matter altogether. Even students contesting college elections were seen as demagogues, seeking power by investing money. The odds of winning or losing had a direct relation with the money invested. It was meant for those who were not too serious about studies or had surplus paternal affection or political backing.

The result: Perennial abomination towards politics became a part of our up bringing. Politics and scams have been running on parallel tracks since their inception. And the recent scam expose have just sprinkled fuel to the already roaring flame. The youth today loathe politicians more than the Pakistani cricket team. Politicians are branded as the cause of all possible problems that our country faces. They have become nothing but a convenient punching bag available at our dispense. General public, TV channels, Print media nobody misses a chance of scoffing the politicians and expressing grief over the grim state of affairs. I say, it is not completely fair. There is no smoke without fire. Can these larcenous politicians eat away public money without outside support and co-operation? Politicians are the cynosure of all scams, agreed but we cannot turn the blind eye to the other aspect that plays an equally crucial role. What about Corporate houses, media, NGOs, Bureaucrats who are equally venal.

Rampant corruption in the system has kept honest people at bay, with the best talents entering the corporate sector for a just and harmonious ambience, leaving politics for the not-so-well-educated and influential(of course there are exceptions). But the question that arises is: Are corporate houses clean? The answer is a big no. Corporate India also shares the onus for corruption in India. Over ambitious corporate houses are willing to do anything to get their job done. They are least hesitant in paying bribes, be it in cash or kind. Leading corporate houses consider bribes as processing fees for felicitating an action. My uncle, who happens to be the CEO of a fledging company says that bribes are included in the company budgets and are dispensed every now and then through liasioning officers. My friend once asked a leading B-School teacher about the importance of Business ethics. To which he said “Business ethics has reduced to a mere subject, having no practical application whatsoever”. What message are we sending to the world? Statistics suggest that about 7 trillion worth of investments waiting to be commissioned- that is start production by May 2012. Calculating the amount of bribes involved will be disturbing.

Law minister Salman Kurshid recently said that throwing big corporates into prison will harm investment. But isn’t bribe giving a crime too? Putting corrupt corporate leaders behind bars might prove good for investments like in Singapore, where strict anti-graft rules helped gain corporate confidence.

A similar situation persists in the media-dom. Media jurnos and reporters have prior information on an issue before an actual declaration by the government , which they flash in their Breaking News item, adumbrates the unspoken illicit relation that exists between the politicos and the jurnos. Leading Reporter Barkha Dutt being allegedly involved in the 2G scam is an example. Today’s media is highly manipulative, powerful and influential. It understands what the people want and gives them exactly the same, resulting in monetary gains through soaring TRPs. The multiplier effect in the Anna fast and the politicizing of smalls issue suggests that India’s very own Murdoch moment is not very far away if media continues to function unwarranted under the aegis of selective political backing. News channels are constantly in the hunt for breaking news material. There are like a million chat shows everyday where the reporters rant at the participants (usually politicians) painting an even more grim portrait of the situation. Nobody questions the credibility of the media as it claim to be whistleblowers. Hence, media sports an invisible cloak that hides them from public judgement, making them corrupt, powerful and immune at the same time.

Corruption today is rampant and clearly Anna-style protests are not the answer; especially when it is on the verge of losing its apolitical strature. We need to look for deeper for lasting solutions. There needs to be a systemic change and a change in attitude. The common man does not wake up and say "Oh! it's a beautiful day, let me go give some bribes". We need not restrict corruption to politicians only. As citizens we often consider paying money to get things done "faster", or in some cases get it done at least. We have to oust corruption out of our minds and systems and believe that one can also be successful without being corrupt. India's talked about growth rate has also started showing cracks. India will be light years away from the vision 2020 we once talked about unless we do something about the corruption conundrum and decide to reform ourselves for a better future.

Never Trust the FBI

It was December, 2012 when I got my first job. The fact that all my school friends had also made it to the same company quadrupled the happiness. Nothing like living a bachelor life with old school buddies, I told myself.

We were all placed in Infosys, Bhubaneswar. The office was located in the outskirts of Bhubaneswar, in Patia. However, contrary to common sense and logic, real estate prices skyrocketed in this region. Land rates, house rentals had plummeted from the day government declared this region a Special Economic Zone. We decided that we would rent a house and live together near the Infosys office. It would help us share the burden of daily expenses which otherwise would be difficult to manage individually for fledgling engineers with meager salaries. And of course not to forget the fun part in living together with friends earning enough to keep the fridge well occupied.

We paid the advance for a duplex house located 2kms away from the Infosys office. The house boasted of five bedrooms, all well lit with cross ventilation. It had two balconies which apart from creating a good smoking spot for my smoker friends provided a decent view too. There were two rooms on the ground floor and three on the first. There was a staircase connecting the two floors internally which was “Sexy!!” according to Sovan.

So finally it was mid-February, 2013 when I and my friends (Sahil, Sovan, Gourav, and Anubhav) went on to live what was quintessentially every child’s dream when in school.

I and sahil being the lethargic ones took charge of the ground floor, Sovan, Gourav and Anubhav took hold of the first. They had the balconies so we got to keep the fridge. All amiable conclusions were reached, we decided all other essential stuff like hiring a domestic help, a sweeper and a laundry guy.

It took us a month to get acclimated to the new house and idyllic lifestyle. Everything seemed to go smoothly except this one thing that Anubhav kept griping about. He complained that every night he would hear footsteps from the ceiling above. Said he had gone and checked a couple of times but found no one except himself. Anubhav was the guy who was the cynosure of all our jokes, we always teased him but he never complained. It was during one of our evening roof top sessions that things took a different course. We all were high, thanks to the fridge and the balcony. Clenching our beer bottles (except gourav who was having a grappo fizz) we sat on the roof edge. As per the usual we started pulling anubhav`s leg. But this time he didn’t seem to enjoy it. He maintained a straight face and kept looking at the floor nonchala1ntly. Sovan said “kya be phir se phatne laga hai kya? fattu saala!”. “Fuck You! Asshole!” retorted Anubhav. We all kept quiet as we sensed that it was not a normal/casual fuckyouasshole, it was an I-mean-it-to-the-core FUCKYOUASSHOLE. “Abe serious kyun ho raha hai Saale?” said Gourav. Anubhav kept quiet. We looked at each other communicating guilt for having crossed the line and not hearing him out. “This is seriously bugging me; I can’t get a sound sleep. Each night I hear foot steps of someone running and jumping. I have checked every now and then but there seems to be no plausible explanation whatsoever. Bheem (Laundry guy) tells he knows someone who can help us figure this out”. “Woh benchodh FBI me hai kya?” said Sahil exhaling smoke rings into the air. After a twenty minute discussion on the existence of supernatural and favorite horror movies we called up Bheem and asked him to get the so-called FBI agent, Which sovan abbreviated as “Full-time Bhoot Investigation”, and it definitely made it to his top ten Pj`s of all time.

 As we were slurping maggi noodles downstairs the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find Bheem in his usual yellow t-shirt and black shorts. He told that he has apprised the guy, will be arriving any moment. I left the door open and offered bheem to sit. He preferred waiting outside. Meanwhile we were done with the dinner and having yesterdays left over pastries when bheem entered with the guy. I had made up a mental picture of the psychic-tantrik, inspired from bollywood movies but this guy didn’t seem to match even a bit. He didn’t have long hair, did not wear black robes, did not have beard and the worst part is he didn’t even sport the miniature skull necklace. Instead he was a middle aged man, balding, wearing polo neck t-shirt and trousers. He had a sense of assertiveness and didn’t seem the talkative type. “Inka naam Ravi hai”, said Bheem as I gestured them to sit on the couch. We all sat down and Anubhav began sharing his accounts. Ravi did not speak much; he kept nodding and scanning the house as if trying to figure out the dimensions of the room. Anubhav was not finished when Ravi stood up abruptly. “Aap log uss kamre me baithiye main upar se aata hoon” said Ravi, speaking for the first time and gesturing towards my room. We looked at each other, each one equally befuddled. Having no other alternative we started moving towards my room, rather hesitantly. Bheem decided to leave, said he had work back at home (personally I felt he had chickened out). Anubhav decided to accompany Ravi (Just in case the guy hoodwinked us and robbed all our stuff while we sat patiently in my room).

Anubhav and ravi left leaving me, Sahil, Sovan and gourav in my room. There was an eerie silence before Sahil began saying how he wanted to do a “spirit call” as a teenager. Gourav said he found this entire episode bullshit and wanted to sleep as it was already past 11`O clock. Meanwhile, sovan kept yawning and checking his watch.

Ravi entered, alone. For some reason he had switched off all lights. We enquired about the whereabouts of Anubhav. He said it was not safe for him to stay in the house so he had sent him out, to the nearby temple. We all were confused and scared at the same time. Ravi was holding two candles, which he lighted using sahil`s lighter. He switched the lights off, which sent a shiver down my spine. “I need your help, we don’t have much time”. “what do you want us to do?” asked Gourav. “I want you all to concentrate. Watch the candle flame as in burns and listen to what I say carefully”. Having not much a choice we decided to do the same. “we are not the only ones in this house at this moment”, Ravi began. “There is something Upstairs, I don’t know what it is. It has already seen me, so me going up will make it flee and later very difficult to track”. “So what do we do now?” I asked, sweat trickling down my cheek. “I want you four to go up in a group. Climb the steps carefully without making any noise. As soon as you see it and it sees you, Run down to this room. I will be here waiting for you. I will handle the rest. I have pulled aside the curtains to help you find your way. As soon as you see it, DO NOT WAIT, DO NOT LOOK BACK”, Said Ravi giving stress to the last few words. “Kya hum ye karne waale hain?” asked sovan, his eyes protruding. “Abe Mazza aayega be!” said Sahil as I nodded wondering if it was the alcohol or the weed that had given him so much strength and bravado.

We left the room walking in a single file forming a chain. I was leading, candle in one hand, other knotted with sahil`s hand. The trepidation was making me go mad, I could feel my heart thumping, threatening to jump out. Stairs seemed to be moving away creating an uncanny illusion. As we started our ascent I heard a song, like being played on a cell phone, low volume and unclear. A couple of steps and I could feel mild tremors like someone walking briskly or running. A couple of steps and I was able to hear the song better than before. We were about eight steps short of reaching the top when I saw something move in Anubhav`s room which was directly ahead. At this point everybody knew that there was someone. After four steps I could almost see the door. It was open; the room was dark as only the distant street lights were the source of illumination. We stopped as the floor vibrations were becoming very prominent. I could judge something coming towards the door.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw a plump woman standing at the door, laughing. The moment she saw me she began sprinting towards me and kept laughing at a feverish pitch. Without giving much thought I turned back and started running. I forgot that I was with others, for I did not find any of them on my way back. I reached the ground floor. I could see the door to my room. “Run down to this room. I will be here waiting for you”, I remembered Ravi`s words. I did the fastest sprint of my life and reached to the door, only to find it to be locked. I banged the door several times. “Open the door!” I shouted several times. There was no answer. Time seemed to have frozen, as if i had teleported to a different world. I looked back, I could see the lady descend down the stairs, and this time not in a hurry instead she seemed to be pleased about something, wearing a sadistic smile. Having nothing else to do I went to sahil`s room and locked my self in it. Scared and shocked beyond words I sat in a corner, unaware what to do next…

The door opened, as if it had never been bolted. There stood the apparition, I could see her clearly. She was a lady in her mid forties. Jet black hair, fair complexion, tall and grossly obese with unusually big teeth. She wore a green salwar kameez and sport shoes with mud stains on them. She was holding an apple and a knife, the knife being abnormally big. She kept beaming at me, enjoying every drop of sweat and fear on my face. “Who are you?” she asked. “My name is Abhisek Patnaik and I am a software engineer” I answered, my voice shivering. “what do want from me?” I asked gathering some courage. The door opened, sahil, gourav, sovan entered. All of them walking lifeless, unaware of the surroundings, like half dead. I called out everyone’s name, nobody responded. All of them blank, sitting on the bed. The fat frump seemed pleased as if she was anticipating this. “Please don’t kill me” I pleaded. “You will die, I will ruin your entire family”, she said as she guffawed at me. In an instant she hovered to stand right in front of me. I felt an inexplicable pain inside my chest. I could not breathe. I started to sweat profusely. There were tears in my eyes. I could not see anything properly; everything became hazy as I lost focus. Whether I closed my eyes or my eyes stopped responding it is difficult to say, but I gradually found peace. My ears did not hear anything, my eyes couldn’t see anything, and my skin was numb.

I gradually heard a familiar noise. I opened my eyes to find the maroon fan, its blades forming a translucent    disc. Damn! It was a dream. I was sweating, even with the AC in turbo mode. I got off the bed, wore my slippers and reached the door. But it won’t open. It was locked, from outside.Lucid dreaming.

Average Indian Reader

I was brought up in an environment where there were not many voracious readers. Reading is a habit which not many Indians prefer (that is what the statistics suggest). “Listening to music”, “Watching movies”, “Surfing the net” is what one would find next to the Hobbies section of an average Indian CV. Personally I did not have an inborn penchant for reading. Till the tenth grade I could count the number of books I have read on my fingers. Some of them were a part of the ICSE syllabus.

I was sent to kota for IIT-JEE preparation. Kota was a heterogeneous town drawing students from all parts of the country. I met some guys who quintessentially belonged to the “Reading class”, connoisseurs of fine books. I did not have much to contribute to their discussions so I preferred scribbling expletives on classroom desks. Sometime in the middle of first year I was told about a book (by a member of NON-“Reading class”) which was a must-read for all IIT aspirants. Ironically it had a tagline “What NOT to do in IIT”. It was the “IN-thing” and had cult following similar to the “Sutta” song which was another prerequisite for IIT preparation. I succumbed to peer pressure and bought my copy of Five-Point-Someone (Popularly known as FPS). I let go of the DPP (Daily Practice Problems AKA daily pending problems) and started reading FPS. Due to my tardy reading speed it took me two days to finish it. It was a wonderful read. It was like my best buddy narrating a story to me. I was fascinated by the way in which CB described things which usually loiter in our minds but usually went unmentioned or spoken. One good book has the ability to usher you into a new world. I was looking forward to read more books. I suggested people to read FPS and also asked for their suggestions.

One fine day I met one of my “Reading Class” friends. I shared my experience with him. He remained indifferent and said “good for you”. Further he criticised the book, saying the author didn`t know proper English and lacked literary finesse. It infuriated me, I felt like dedicating all my scribbling work on the desk to him. What beleaguered me the most is that people and critics refused to acknowledge him as an author. The man had the talent to be able to connect to so many people. Despite of all these criticism CB`s book enjoyed an ubiquitous presence in all possible book outlets and remained the best seller in charts ousting big-shot NRI writers from the number one position. His books brought a wave of change. It marked the creation of many first time novel readers like me. It connected with people and people were able to relate their lives with the characters of the book. He became the lodestar to many aspiring writers who can now dream of writing a book.

Many Indian authors have published their books lately, some of them as young as 17. I have not read all of them but have heard really good reviews about some. But I am happy that at least the trend is changing. A WSJ survey reveals that Indians opted for stories which are based on India. And that is exactly what some of these Lo-cal writers write about. Rashmi Bansal`s “Stay Hungry Stay Foolish” is a delightful read. “Immortals of Meluha” by Amish Tripathy is another best-seller. Writing was a profession that was not very popular in our country but the equation is changing rapidly. It is a welcome change. Easy reading books will attract people who do not have significant command over the language. They will look forward to books of similar genre and gradually might adapt to books of higher literary content. The Publication houses have also undergone a sea of change. First time writers are no longer underestimated instead seen as potential bestsellers. Moreover, the number of publication houses has also increased who are willing to take risks and promote new talents. Apart from the intelligentsia of the reading fraternity the average Indian reader is also proving to be a lucrative market segment.

Since FPS I have read considerable number of books (I can no longer count the number on my fingers at least!). But Chetan Bhagat remains one of my favourites. I like reading his column in TOI (which had once published a scathing article on the Author`s writing) that deal in serious matters. Next time you visit a book store remember the old adage "Do not judge a book by it`s cover" and also consider not judging it by its author. You never know what it might have in store for you.

THE "syndrome"

Okay in this article i`ll be talking about a particular ilk of people. so if any of the readers belong to this ilk then read each line carefully and try to reform yourself and oust this god gifted quality of yours :-D

i`ll call people infected with THE "syndrome" ZombieX.

so u can basically come across a ZombieX practically anywhere....

U might be walking down the road,

buying chocolates,

recharging your cell phone,

hanging out with friends,

sitting alone (wondering Rajnikanth`s superpowers)

and Bang!!!

There comes a ZombieX...

But u need not worry they,are not the conventional half dead zombies coming after you (with twisted legs, floating hands and yellow teeth) to have your leg piece. They (ZombieX) is coming near you to........

Ignore you.

Now ZombieX can be categorized in many ways.

• People you once knew, but have not been in touch with them.
• People whom you know but you don`t really get along with them.
• People who BECOME ZombieX when they are with a particular kind of people(e.g girlfriend(s), other people having powerful ZombieX aura)
• People too Proud to look at mere mortals.
• People who like you, but somehow you are not in their "interaction" list currently.
• ........ blah blah blah

There are a zillion categories.Now let me tell you how they attack. They attack mentally. when you incidentally come in their field of view what they do is..

• They look through you(Assuming you are transparent)
• Suddenly there is an urge to checkout a nearby object(e.g the ceiling, the walls, the tissue paper lying on the floor, shoe laces etc.) which co-incidentally are in complete opposite directions to where u are sitting.
• They give the "why are you smiling/waving, do i know you??" look.
• They look at you and they look at something else immediately in a fraction of a second(ya this thing needs practice)
• They take out their phone and start punching buttons(giving you the hint that they are kinda busy/important).
• They lock their destination Co-ordinates and don`t look here and there.
• They smile at you but later you find out that it was for someone sitting on the back table(classic ZombieX weapon).

I have one question.

What did i do to be treated like this? Why is so difficult to convey human emotion which God`s gift to mankind? (okay sorry there are two questions)

i have been attacked so many times that i`am writing this post. Awareness is all we need. Innocent people(Homo Sapiens) should be aware of these Emotional Atyacharis. I urge all Homo Sapiens to join hands and fight against the ZombieXs. Their army is increasing constantly. We need to create our Own. Together we can teach them that it is easier to smile rather than trying to look through an opaque object. People together we can create a world of love, respect and manners(most importantly).

PS

Here`s a list of things that you can do when you are attacked.

• Take a step. Go face to face (Darr ke aage jeet hai)
• Insult them by calling them visually impaired, deaf, donkey (Recommended only to people having a martyr attitude)
• Do not Ignore the attack, that's how the virus spreads.
• Let them know what they did(in a polite way).

Lets show them that this is planet Earth belonging to homo-sapiens not Zombieland !!

Cheers to Manners Etiquettes And humanity !

Peace