Saturday, October 29, 2016

Poignant post cards from Port Blair


This was a walk down memory lane - a personal tribute to my dad's pioneering six-month deputation in 1978 as part of a Government of India Goodwill Expedition to the Sentinel Islands.



Port Blair has witnessed a sea change over the years, literally and otherwise. The good old Ross Island saved it from fatal destruction but it remains an unfortunate witness to Port Blair's social and cultural disintegration that pervades the place end to end. Talk to the local folks and a silent debate ensues over son of the soil claims - between the Tamilians and the Bengalis. It's more of a passive war of words but very unsettling all the same. Not that the rest - Keralites, Punjabis, Andhraites, Maharashtrians, Biharis or Marwaris are peace loving - but being the minority, they prefer to keep mum, probably cursing the ruling class in the vicinity of their homes, over bread and beer. Unlike other places in India, there's hardly a riot here but that doesn't mean the populace believes in solidarity. People run riot of a different virtual kind in this union territory.

But the biggest nuisance value to the Island is from mindless tourists. The Terrorism of Tourism is multi-faceted: whether in the form of the highly toxic and contagious "selfie" mania (taking selfies with Veer Savarkar is their favorite pastime), pathetic littering on historic spots, endless shopping sprees on busy streets or heinous hogging (both food and limelight) in all modes of public transport. It continues unabated only because tourism ensures a steady revenue stream.



Another disturbing sight is the surreal real estate in the Island town - wonder what sadistic pleasure the developers (read damagers) have derived by erecting the choicest of pathetic structures - probably they wished to pay tribute to the ancient ruins through their modern interpretations.



I tried to draw solace - finding my way through the Aberdeen bazaar which my mom frequented for groceries, the Central Bus Stand where me and my sister enjoyed the sheer thrill of countless "Milk Pepsis", the campus of our school - the Kendriya Vidyalaya, the site of the now-defunct Wimco factory where we had our night strolls, and the old building of the Anthropological Survey of India where my dad worked in a small cell reserved for the Archaeological Survey of India. Hard as I tried, I could not find the cottage that was once my home. I searched in vain across Delanipur and Haddo but no structure or even the inroads matched the picture in my mind's eye. I ended my pensive search in the convenient conclusion that since the entire Island was once my home, why care about one locality?



Friday, October 07, 2016

US and us


For most Indians, a vacation to the United States of America is still an incredibly monumental feat. Of course, there are exceptions - folks who stay the same 'before and after' - but they only prove the rule at best.

Once 'back', the majority turn into a different species altogether. Their social status (measured primarily in terms of LinkedIn contacts, FB friends and Twitter followers) soars sky-high, with 'deprived' natives offering glowing tributes in the form of overtly appreciative glances every time the 'chosen ones' step out of their homes. Given an obliging audience willing to proclaim them experts on Indo-US relations without the slightest reservation, their US-stamped sermons become a routine fixture in the community.

They tell you, with carefully rehearsed, animated gestures and a discernibly put-on US accent (they are no longer shocked, they are 'shaaaacked') how our people lack civic sense (Why should this obvious realization only dawn post the US visit is a mystery more terrifying than the Riemann hypothesis), how we are a spoilt lot, what's the inside story on the US presidential elections, why Hillary should fear Trump, how Obama would spend his retirement years, what would be Apple's next strategy, how Irrfan managed to bag the prized Inferno role and so on and so forth. And the best part is the mandatory preface prefixed to every conversation: "While I was there"

Most interestingly, even within the privileged lot with the 'US-returned' tag, there's not a semblance of solidarity. In fact, the rat race here is brutally intense - it's about being the first among equals. So if they learn you were there before them, they have a tough time coming to terms with the disturbing fact.

It's incredible how they don't pick up any of the traits that make America a one-of-a-kind microcosm of heterogeneity: holistic approach, congenial environment, freedom of expression, social equality, culture of innovation, emphasis on experiential learning and seamless academia-industry interaction. Instead, they fall for or are impressed by all that Uncle Sam is infamous for - demonic consumerism, dangerous diets,rampant tablet popping, nauseatingly patronizing attitude towards the 'developing' tribe (impose sanctions, provide aid, have fun), culture rooted in quick disposal of everything, technology abuse, superficial and superfluous exchange of pleasantries, the Mayonnaise-smeared liberalism diarrhea...

The US-educated (or employed) Indian software pros (the label of 'pro' is magnanimously generic) suffer from a different set of fundamental deformities. Once back, they claim to have ready-to-deploy offerings - based on their home-spun versions of object oriented thinking - to solve just about anything in life. OOPS in their case, is the exclamation to describe the blunders that follow, not the awesome programming paradigm.

A host of globe-trotting "onsite" folks are faking work, day in and day out, on their smart phones, tablets, excel sheets and word documents even as the bulk of the inarticulate programming tribe back home goes through the grind, inevitably falling prey to Machiavellian tactics and the bell curve nonsense at the workplace. (God save the world from those scary Quality folks who pester you with a bagful of templates without having the slightest idea of the essence of Six Sigma and ISO)

The US tag earns the blessed ones the coveted positions of project managers and lot of spare time for US-style splurging and living beyond their means, strictly by choice. Peep inside most code labs and you’ll find the same old hierarchies of power distances, ruthless ambition and narcissism at play, where a handful of smart and wily operators merrily rule over a veritable but vulnerable majority. Who’s going to reduce the besmirching carbon footprints of the IT industry that pollute the social fabric in elusive ways – where hyped on-site-off-site-offshore models don’t necessarily mean better working conditions, where key performance appraisals are invariably unscientific, where egos are sky-high and tempers fly high, thanks to the variety and vanity of designations: the perfunctory coder is keen to call himself a developer, the developer genuinely believes he’s an architect and the architect is thoroughly convinced he’s God’s gift to mankind,a true-blue American in body, soul and spirit.

Given our faith in information technology, laced with fairy-tale beliefs, we reserve the loudest applause for the 'programmed' nomads traveling from coast to coast in the US of A but conveniently ignore the non-conformists who seed green-house IT ventures in their hometowns and choose to hone talent from within the grassroots. Clearly, the pompous vacation abroad is more important than the purposeful vocation at home.



Tuesday, October 04, 2016

Beyond 'Puri on Uri'


Any attempt to analyze actor Om Puri's pathetic remarks on the Uri attacks is futile. This haggard, senile tail-ender is clearly batting for the Sultan of Box Office and the Johar of tinsel town, gang lords who supposedly make or break film careers in different ways, depending on your equation with them. Such is their might that even a hopelessly hostile crackpot called Anurag kashyap has a velvety soft corner for at least one of them. Even our grand old Shyam babu Benegal who is lucky to relish the benefit of doubt - of being Mumbai's Satyajit Ray - circuitously pledges allegiance to the Bollywood circus despite having run out of his pale Zubeidas and stale Sajjanpurs for good. Then why blame Sushant Singh Rajput who has chosen to bat for Fawad Khan. He has a long way to go and offending Johar's Dil is hence not only Mushkil, it's Namumkin.

Bollywood has repeatedly lived up to its name that it so desperately wants rechristened only for namesake...for it's a mediocre factory largely producing substandard products and employing a perfunctory workforce, essentially a mutual admiration society which unanimously maintains 'safe distance' when it comes to all matters - including issues of national interest - that threaten to disrupt the jamboree of its umpteen productions and promotions. Differences of opinion within the fraternity are allowed, in fact welcome, but strictly on larger issues like film release & distribution or the crore-club claims.

In the Puri bashing, let's not forget many fence-sitting 'artistes' who want us to spare, nay worship, their mart in the name of art. Their silence is more toxic than Puri's blabber.