Desicritics Author: Blokesablogin

Book Review: Complicit by Mark Gilbert

Blokesablogin — Mon, 22 Feb 2010 22:09:40 EST

Mark Gilbert, the Bureau chief for Bloomberg UK writes this lucid account of how the latest economic mess we saw unravelled in the past few years happened. Complicit: How Greed and Collusion Made The Credit Crisis Unstoppable is worth a read.

The journalist shines through. The book breaks down the smokescreen of big finance into small bytes of information that can be digested by the average reader without a degree in finance. It is topical, and as the tentacles of fiscal mess continues to wrap around and squeeze more people and countries dry, it is a good idea to get educated as citizens.

When we consider the power we have as voters and investors, it behooves us to take the responsibility to understand how messes like these came to be and how indirectly we were responsible. It was not a single person's greed. Rather, as a society, we wanted more. We wanted our cruises, our cars. We wanted astronomical returns. We wanted larger homes with a smaller paycheck.

However, Gilbert does not point the finger at us, the electorate and the investors. Rather, he shows the ropes of corporate finance and banking systems. He explains the smoke and mirror schemes adopted by "reputable" financial institutions that encouraged "savvy investors" (that is us) to trust our nest eggs with "gold-rated stars". Soon, the gold turned to dross and even countries were left with pyrite in their vaults.

The old adage of not putting all our eggs in the same basket was thrown out with yesterday's trash. The monopolistic financial institutions created "new" baskets but they were all smaller sections of the one larger one. That was one aspect of the "plot".

This was furthered by raters who ensured that these baskets were woven so tight and lined with sufficient padding to ensure the safety of the eggs. The eggs did not crack, they crashed. They could not even be redeemed to make scrambled eggs.

Have we learned our lessons or will we continue to shirk our responsibilities as shareholders and voters? Or will we educate ourselves and have the wisdom to distinguish the chaff from the grain and protect our hard earned assets?

Do read this book and decide.

Movie Review: The Reader

Blokesablogin — Sat, 5 Dec 2009 23:47:29 EST

Finally, I watched The Reader, the controversial film that won an Oscar for Kate Winslet. Personally, the sex scenes in the first part of the movie almost made me stop watching it. I am not a "puritan" against sex, rather, I felt it took away the primary focus of the film which, according to me, was illiteracy, and as an extension, bigotry.

The Holocaust draws a great parallel in my mind with The Partition of 1947. I have many Punjabi friends who are still mentally struggling to "make sense" of it. While the German efficiency of the camps were unparalleled in the history of the world, the chaos of the Partition was no less chilling in its aftermath. The big difference between the Holocaust and the Partition is that in the case of the latter, no one went on "trial" after decades to "prove" one way or the other, who was "wrong".

The film, an adaptation of a German book entitled the same, written by a German, was very well received in Germany and later the English translation did well too. The story was told in a straightforward manner where a young high school boy has an affair with an older woman who makes him read to her before they get into bed.

Years later, the boy, now a Law student, sees her being charged with war crimes. During the course of the trial he realizes that she, Hannah Schmitz, was illiterate and she forced the interned Jewish women in the camp read to her, before she sent them to their deaths. Rather than acknowledge that she is illiterate, she agrees to a long prison sentence.

The denouement of the film, according to me was the final scene, when the grown up boy, a successful lawyer, goes to America to give the Holocaust survivor the money that Hannah had bequeathed her. The lady, a survivor and author of a book on the holocaust refuses the money as she cannot give "absolution" to Hannah, but instead accepts the battered Tin can to keep her "pain" alive.

The tin box was very symbolical. Both the interned and the guards had the same kind of box to keep their "treasures" in. Once, I read a book that was written by a prison guard who likens his life to those of his "prisoners". He says that his friends are prisoners and his life revolves around the prison. His entire social life was defined by it. He wonders what "punishment" was, really.

The primary question in the film is about literacy. Whom do we call literate? How do we define it? Just learning to read and write, does that make us "literate"? The Jews "worship" literacy as their Torah is "everything" to them. I once had an interesting conversation with a Rabbi who was making snide remarks about Hinduism and the illiteracy amongst Hindus. It was very illuminating to me the preconceived notions people have without bothering to "learn" about anything different.

This, was the basis of this film. The law is indeed narrow. It is indeed about what is "written". Hannah was told to be a "guard" and not let anyone escape. And she carried out her role as "guard" perfectly, but she was "charged" at a time when the SS was rendered "illegal". Law almost becomes a spoof at that point.

Amidst the straight and narrow line of law, we also have the larger field of morality and human values and emotions. We "connect" in many ways as humans, just as the boy does with Hannah. While there is an innocence in him, she is ruled by her fear of not being able to read. In trying to hide that, she appears to be cold and manipulative. Yet, the boy wonders at the tears and laughter she expresses while he reads to her.

A poignant scene was when he visits her a week before her release. He asks her what she has learned. She simply replies, "Does anything else matters? The dead are already dead. I have learned to read."

In the Gita, Krishna tells Arjuna that the wise neither grieve for the living nor the dead (BG II-11). This is a very interesting line. The sense of ego that separates "us" from "them", I and you, makes it impossible to see the validity of this statement. However, the "wise" who have dissolved this false notion of "I" and "You" do not have any grief for the living or the dead.

I doubt that Hannah had realized this truth. She was certainly eaten by her "guilt" as she reads more books by Holocaust survivors when in prison, where she teaches herself to read. She finally views the world from "their" perspective rather than "hers". That makes her commit suicide on the day she was to be released.

The "author" in America, who had evidently made money by telling her "horrific" tale, could not find it in her to "forgive" Hannah, as she NEVER saw Hannah's point of view. Many times, my grand father used to tell us that we needed to "win" against opponents of the same "background" as us. He used to say that winning over an adversary who was like a kindergartner while we had done our Masters was unworthy of us. That makes us wonder who was the "illiterate" in the film and needed to be "read" to.

No one is denying the horrors faced by the Jews in the holocaust. The Germans have also faced a lot "guilt" for generations who had nothing to do with it. They have paid for it, literally, by taking up the "cost" of the war as much with their national conscience. As a nation, they are still paying their dues.

If this rhetoric of the Jews is to be acknowledged, then every Muslim in the world should be made to feel guilty for every Hindu who was massacred hundreds of years ago. Likewise, the new resurgence of "Hindutva" that wants to apportion "blame" to "Muslims" is the same ridiculous nonsense that is perpetrated by the "Jews" who believe that the world should never "forgive" the "ills" perpetrated against "them" in the past. This sort of political rhetoric continues to this moment where we continue to justify wars and violence and terrorism.

This is foolishness. Human beings have done some foolish and ignorant actions, with or without justification and we continue to do so. None of us are so wise to not be grieved by life and death. SO, until that state is reached, it is good to "learn" and see the "other" person's point of view before passing "judgement". And let us learn to "win" with equals, not "illiterates".

Watching An Indian Soap: Choti Bahu

Blokesablogin — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 00:59:14 EDT

I was introduced to the Indian television Serial scene a month ago via the internet. There are several sites wherein every serial known and unknown, watched and not are carefully uploaded every hour. My in laws decided to cut Sun TV that we had especially ordered for them as they said that the internet gave them greater flexibility of time to watch their favorite shows and they did not have to watch the ads during breaks. (My in laws had found this website that uploaded videos according to the European time of telecast and thus they got to see their serial before it was telecast in the US!) This was my first introduction to Indian television serials, online.

While browsing through some articles, I came across TRP ratings for serials with the highest viewership ratings and found Choti Bahu (Younger daughter in law) consistently being on the top (until recent months). I wondered what made a show a success? There began my journey. I entered an alien world of fiction that gripped people's imagination and kept them talking for the whole day before the conversation continued the next day! It was not uncommon for my in laws to discuss a show with their friends back home when they called in to check if all was well. My dad would update my mom as to what was happening with the episodes that she was missing while traveling.

Choti Bahu begins as an innocent story along the lines of Cinderella with a sweet, naive girl (Radhika) who is an adopted daughter of a poor, temple priest. She is ill treated by the grandma and her "sister" (Vishaka) who uses her to cover up all her faults. Enter our Prince Charming (Dev) belonging to a rich and well known family that has properties all around the country. He falls hard for Radhika and wishes to marry her. Unfortunately he thinks Radhika's name is Vishaka and gets married to her. Owing to a twist, on the night of the marriage, Radhika substitutes for Vishaka (as she runs away to become an actress) and then the story devolves from there.

It was obvious that the entire story is based on the fact that Radhika never reveals to Dev, who consistently tells her how much he adores her and does not care for his "wife" Vishaka, that she is indeed his Dharmapatni, wife who took the vows with him. The TRPs are manipulated constantly keeping the viewers on tenterhooks as to when the truth will come out.

I noticed that there is a set pattern to the plot. For every 25 episodes a new twist is created or resolved. Even if the twist does not require that many hours to be resolved or created, they follow the set format. Of course, watching the episodes online has its advantages. You can skip all the shots when people are seen walking to or from another character. Or when the title song plays or when the villain begins her canned dialogue that will go on for exactly 2:30 minutes.

I also stumbled upon a forum where avid viewers of the show discussed their favorite show online- sometimes thrilled with what happened and sometimes miserable with the story line. A whole new world opened up in front of me as I undertook this month long experiment to understand the psychology of serial watchers.

And it is an interesting world. I met some amazing people on the forums. We became almost family when we had to cheer up someone who was miserable with the story line! There were alternative "Fan Fiction", stories written with the same characters but an entirely different story. There were video remixes with clippings from the show merged with a new soundtrack. There were interviews with the cast.

This melding of shows with other shows was mind boggling. There would be special episodes when characters from other serials would appear on this show! There would be anchors from different TV News magazines to update viewers about what was happening on the sets. So, the channels would feed off each other on "advertizing" their shows via news and the News channel had "news" to report!

Many of the diehards are young kids who are in the middle of taking tests and giving interviews. The Indian diaspora from around world as far flung as Trinidad, the Americas, Australia and Africa. Bored housewives and busy professionals catch their shows online at a time convenient for them. It is not uncommon for the forums to have volunteers who write the update for each show in English to make it easy for the non Hindi speakers to follow the show! The dedication is amazing.

An entire world of make belief made "real". In an already world of illusion, as the idea of Maya would have it another Maya nagari is established and supported from every side. Another layer to this world of fiction is the fiction created by viewers. It is like the old idea of the mirror within the mirror, reflecting each other off into infinity.

For now, I have bid temporary farewell to the serial and the forum as I surface back to reality!

The Individual in a Collective World

Blokesablogin — Wed, 3 Jun 2009 10:22:49 EDT

This past month has been an amazing time of sharing with my mother her experiences of teaching Art of Living classes in Israel and Palestine. When she arrived in California she had more Israelis and Asians take the course. Now, our home feels like a mini UN with people from all over the world coming for early morning knowledge classes discussing the interactions of the individual in a collective world.

Cultural and religious disparities have practically disappeared as we share a cup of Chinese green tea with good American clover honey with a pod or two of Indian elaichi. The different accents of English spoken with Chinese translation and Hindi make for a wonderful early morning awakening to the fact that we share this world with myriad people and species and ecosystems and beliefs.

In this context, reading about differences and arguments on "God" and "my way is the right way" kind of rhetoric appear so superficial and silly. Last week, a friend asked me to sign a petition for some kind of Hindu stuff in the US. I refused and she was upset. Yes, I have openly argued against conversions and have no intentions of giving up my "identity" as a "Hindu", but I do not believe that I need someone to "give me rights" to be a Hindu or whatever.

While the above may seem contradictory, it is actually very complementary. Yes, we do have a finite definition of "who we are", culturally, nationally, economically, religiously, by gender and such other parameters that are obvious to the human eye. However, there is another realm in us that is unseen, inexplicable, one that is only experienced.

It is here where the actual conversations in silence begin. This was what happened when we had an evening discussing the Sermon on the Mount from Matthew: 5-7. At the end of the evening several Christians came up and were thrilled to meet people of other faiths. Today one of them emailed to say that she truly felt that she was more than a christian. Her identity as a christian was limiting her experience of God.

Same goes for the fanatics of every religion or community or group. It is contradictory and yet complementary at the same time. Like the dual nature of light being both particle and wave at the same time.

A few months ago, I did a lot of soul searching to understand the pain caused by the terrorism in the name of Islam. I sincerely asked myself if I was having Islamophobic thoughts. At the same time I was listening to a soundtrack of AR Rahman. It hit me that if I took the highway of hating muslims, I cannot love AR Rahman music. I could not appreciate the next ghazal or listen to Ustad Aamir Khan. I could not wear my favorite Lucknowi Kurtas in the summer carefully embroidered by nameless, faceless muslim women. I would have to give up my glass bangle collection from Firozabad. How poorer the world would be without Mohammad Rafi's eternal voice.

Reflecting back on this journey of ideas and judgements that just happen knowing and unknowingly, I look within to see that phobias of any sort are so momentary and silly. Giving weight to them is foolish. Liking or disliking something or someone or an idea is transient. To hold on to it as eternal truth is foolish. Arguing about them is sillier still.

Prayag Kashi Gaya

Blokesablogin — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 01:40:16 EDT

Mid February, as I sat watching the Tamil film Naan Kadavul, here in a US theater on the eve of my departure to India and saw the sweeping Ganga Ghatline in Varanasi, I knew that I will be there in a month's time. The priest's voice was clear in my head, "You may go to Prayag and Kashi, but not Gaya. Your parents and in-laws are in good health and you do not have any work there."

That was my initial conversation when I suggested I accompany my parents on their journey to these three most sacred cities in the Sanathan Dharma tradition to pray for the liberation of the pitrs (ancestors).

The train journey from Delhi to Allahabad, Prayag of yore, was uneventful. A couple of my dad's siblings had accompanied us to propitiate and liberate the ancestors, in this age old tradition after the parents have passed on.

Our tourist taxi was awaiting us and we left for the priest's house directly to begin the prayers. Driving past rickshaw filled, cart filled and cow filled streets, we entered the maze of ancient quarters to finally pull up in front of a 200 plus old home. The priest told dad and mom to shower and do the sankalpa (pledge to do all the prescribed rituals) and then proceed for the Triveni snaan (bath).

The golden waters of the Ganga converged with the dark waters of the Yamuna like fingers threading together. The now-proved then-mythical Saraswathi must be seeping through the river bed some place via some underground network of fissures.

The water was chill but not cold. After the initial hesitation there was no wanting to get out. The fine silt make an excellent exfoliator cum scrub and when I saw my feet later, they were absolutely clean- better than any that have resulted from a pedicure. I had the thrill of wading up the Ganga to collect her sacred water in containers to be later sealed in copper pots and taken home.

As we approached the Ghat steps to get back into our car, it was heartening to see a large group of local college boys cleaning up small pieces of trash from the banks. From my previous trip in the early eighties, in recent times, the entire area was clean and free of human waste and garbage.

The reclining Hanuman along the bank was anointed in his orange sindoor and we received his blessings in sodden clothes that had magically dried up in just the walk up the steps and down the street.

By mid day all the prayers came to an end and we had a simple but delicious meal served at the priest's before we headed out toward Kashi aka Varanasi aka Benaras.

Midway there, we stopped at an "upgraded" dhaba for tea where I found the most amazing effects of global economy and ingenuity. A colossal collection of the latest hits from Hindi movies, all packed into one small CD in MP3 format, available for INR 20. I asked the vendor if it worked. He said that they were all tested and true. I suggested he play it then. He said he did not have a player but only sold MP3s! More out of curiosity than anything, I bought it to see if it worked. A week later, when I returned to Delhi, the CD played with over 100 songs. I am yet to listen to all of them!

Late afternoon, we pulled up in front of a spanking hotel within walking distance from the Kashi Vishwanath temple. We quickly cleaned up to visit the temple. I had made this long garland of 108 Vilva leaves from Delhi wrapped in a banana leaf. While entering the Vishwanath temple, a monkey jumped on me to grab the garland. When I resisted, he took strong hold of both my arms, staring straight into my eyes and refused to budge until I gave him the garland to "check". He took a "bite" off a leaf and let me go. I offered the 108-1 leafed garland to Vishwanath.

All the security checks that we had to pass through were rendered ineffective when compared to the check by the monkey. The priests at the temple are a funny lot. We were warned by one and all not to get into any form of eye or ear contact with these tricksters. "Matha teko (bow down here), now give me Rs.100!" LOL!

Owing to the labyrinth of tiny by lanes that lead to the temple, we got a bit lost and entered Annapoorni's temple first and then proceeded to Vishwanath's. The Goddess was seated with her inimitable ladle held in her hands to dispense knowledge. There was absolutely no crowds. Taking more turns, following sign boards, we wound our way to Visalakshi Temple.

On the way, we decided to sit down on one of the stone benches that typify the construction of ancient Indian homes. Immediately we were asked to get up as there was a Shiva ling right beneath it! Evidently, Kashi is full of Shiva lings consecrated by millions of people who came before us. It is said that no one should wear shoes in Kashi. Owing to the ever present cow and her Gobar (dung), reality overrode all spiritual reasoning.

Like the confluence of the Ganga and Yamuna waters that we saw at Prayag, the merge of muslim and hindu homes lining the labyrinth at Kashi made me realize just how communally integrated we actually are. It is also clear just how easy it is to "fan" communal violence that can cause much death as the homes share walls and there is no "way out". The US Fire marshals will certify all of Kashi to be one big fire hazard. AIG will not give anyone an insurance policy there! LOL!

The above point was brought to mind owing to my watching Delhi 6, the latest Abhishek Bachchan starrer. The Kala Bandar alluded to in the movie can easily be visualized in the walled quarters of Kashi.

We spent 3 days there. The Ghats were clean. The new electric crematorium at Harishchandra Ghat ensured that no half burned body was disposed off in the Ganga. We took the boat to Manikarnika Ghat where the Lord Himself is said to whisper into the ear of the dying person the secret of eternity.

The boatman told us that the entire stretch of ghats was about 10 Km long and took several hours to row past. The water was warmer than in Prayag. It has a "non stick" quality to it with no apparent sign of oil. The ubiquitous marigold was floating all over interspersed with sweet smelling petals of red, wild roses. What a heady, sensual experience along the site for the dead!

The following evening, we went to the newer Rajendra Prasad Ghat where the evening Aarti was performed by the local Ganga Trust. Seven young men, brilliant in ochre and dazzling of face offered evening prayers to the River Goddess Ganga in all her life-giving glory. The presence of more foreign tourists than locals was perceptible.

With a high influx of visitors who make it their home, this city has a very different feel to it than other pilgrimage centers like Thirupati or even Haridwar. People come to Haridwar, take a dip in the Ganga and they leave. Here, in Kashi, people come, take a dip and stay to die. Moksha (liberation from the cyclical life-death process) is "guaranteed" here.

Moksh or no, I found a perceptible shift in my "attachments" towards the material and the familial. I do not know if it was the lore or the meditations I have been doing for some years now. I do know that I can enjoy life and be compassionate without the burden of attachments and worries.

I also was blessed to visit Benaras Hindu University and the Ancient Indian History department there to do more research on my book on Hinduism. I found some very old publications that date back a century and more. The books themselves can make an entire blog for later.

One afternoon, we took a short drive to Saranath where the Buddha gave his first sermon. I was overwhelmed standing in front of the Ashoka capital that is the symbol of modern India, enshrined in the archeological museum there. That is the "original" whose "copy" I have embossed in gold on my passport. That is what I see and finger on every Indian coin and Rupee note. That is what made the world recognize the power of peace over war.

Gaya. The train was several hours late. We arrived in the middle of the night and owing to the impoverished Gaya's lack of facilities, we had rooms in Bodh Gaya, a city bustling with international tourists. It was here, where Prince Siddhartha Gautama achieved Buddhahood.

While my parents went ahead with their pind daan (offering of cooked rice), I proceeded to Rajgir, an ancient 2500 year old town that is now an archeological ruin. It was here, in these hills where Mahavira, the 24th and last thirthankara of the Jains, walked and blessed the people. It was here where several years later the Buddha went begging for alms and blessing the people of Rajgir. It was here that the great king Bimbisar ruled whose son Ajathashtru took prisoner. It was here where Jarasandha of Mahabharatha had his capital over 5000 years ago.

All we see are mounds and hills with caves cut into them centuries ago. Political interference in archeological research has caused a paucity of information. Generic talks with some scholars and researchers brought together a picture of high official interference from the state in the name of "communal harmony" and
such. Local folklore keeps stories and myths alive in the memory of man.

The guide I literally stumbled upon at Nalanda, the largest international university the ancient world had ever seen, was a PhD in Sanskrit. He had no job prospects in Magadh (old name for parts of Bihar) as there were too many PhDs around and too few lecturerships and professorships available. He explained the root word fro Bihar- Vihar- a land of shrines, residences of knowledge.

The excavations at Nalanda were almost all from the british period. According to Huan Tsang's description of Nalanda, where he was a student and teacher for 12 years, it was a huge campus over 15 miles long and 10 miles wide. The excavations are barely a hundredth of it. The Indian government is not interested in funding further digs and are not too keen on getting foreign grants as there will be no money in it for them to fund their next campaign.

What amazed me was the construction. The bricks that are almost 2000 years old look brand new and shiny. They are "glued down" rather than mortared with an exceptional adhesive made with urad beans, jaggery syrup, bel fruit resin, shellac and khatta. The gap between the bricks was as thin as the thickness of a credit card. The outer walls of a hostel was 11 feet wide and between rooms, 4-5 feet to ensure soundproofing.

The funding of the university according to Huan Tsang also is interesting. Tax from 100 villages supported the upkeep of 10,000 students and 1,500 faculty. Education was free for all buddhists. Non buddhists had to convert to get admission. The "gate keepers" acted as interviewers and registrars.

Meditation at Nalanda was most profound. The energy there is still very powerful. It was heartening to know that the present chief minister of Bihar is working on setting up a new Nalanda University with our erstwhile president dr Abdul Kalam and Nobel Laureate Dr. Amartya Sen helping out with the project. I wish it all success.

That evening, on my return to Gaya, I went to the Mahavihara, the place where Gautama sat under the peepal tree and "lost everything" and was enlightened. I sat under the very tree. Groups and groups of buddhists from Sri Lanka, Myanmar, Korea, Vietnam, Thailand and other places came, read from the Tripataka and left.

Early next morning, at day break, mom and I walked to the Mahavihara to sit under the peepal and do our sadhana. It was the most "dream come true" experience I have ever had. When I was in school, I wanted to "visit" Bodh Gaya. In college I never thought that I could ever meditate. And there I was, seated under the peepal falling into meditation and not having a clue as to how long I sat there.

Our "guides" officially took us "visiting" Bodh Gaya. We saw the Japanese prosperity shared. No Japanese tourist was around as it was too "warm" for them in March! It was not an uncommon sight to see people from all over the world bursting into tears or dazzling smiles.

Every vendor spoke Sinhalese and smatterings of Thai, Korean, Japanese and Burmese, not to mention English, Hindi...

I do not think the Buddha planned on "starting" Buddhism. He clearly had an experience and was able to articulate it well enough that several others were able to experience themselves the peace within. Just as Jesus did. The quest for the spiritual needs to begin with the honoring and respecting of all humans, creatures, water, air, earth. The presence of evangelical ministries in the area was a jarring reminder that humans have a long way to go before they learn to respect each other. Let aside Mundanam (Prayag), Moksham (Kashi) and Pindam (Gaya).

Lights Out at the Earth Hour

Blokesablogin — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 07:02:17 EDT

Earth Hour was celebrated by several million people across the globe last night as we switched off our lights for an hour. We were one of millions of homes that went dark. Prior to switch off, our family had some very interesting ideas like going for a walk or sit with candles and tell stories. In the end, the boys had a terrific time playing with the battery-free flashlight meant for emergencies.

A few weeks ago, I was in Varanasi and saw a hoarding there that spoke about Earth Hour and the need to turn off their lights. The irony was not lost on me. Most of Varanasi had interrupted power supply. The hotel in which we had stayed had its generator running almost constantly.

In the surrounding areas, including Saranath, where we had visited a silk loom, work had stalled as the weaver could barely see in the dark and hence could not work. He was too poor to afford alternate generations of "lighting his way out of his gloom".

The rabri makers of Benaras relied on small pump stoves to make rabri (a thickened milk sweet) on shallow troughs along streets availing of the dim twilight to distinguish ladle from vessel. The whiteness of the milk illuminated itself in the gathering darkness.

Once again in Gaya, Bihar, the story repeated itself. People there have adapted very well for interrupted power supply. They have learned to finish cooking before nightfall by making use of "Sun direct"! The "richer" middle class guys addicted to their soaps and cricket on tele run their UPS (Uninterrupted Power Supply) that are series of car batteries stringed together to form a "power pack".

On our drive to and from the railway station, very little of the city was lit owing to common power cuts. The night sky sparkled like diamonds in the absence of city lights.

Delhi was no better. Gurgaon, a posh suburb, had its interruptions of electricity combated by expensive generators. Air conditioning units were run on burning diesel. The noise generated by these machines was equal to that near an airport.

At Nalanda, I was heartened to see solar panels atop streetlights that collected the sun's energy during the day and used that to light at night. Preity Zinta and several other actors have joined together for the Lighting of a Billion lives campaign.

TERI (The Energy and Resource Institute), a 45 year old institution, has been doing all this green stuff long before it became a mantra for the rest of the world. It was born out of necessity. I was introduced to them way back in the 80s when I started my Vriksha Raksha club in college. They were one of the few who actually had information that showed the importance of conserving water, wise use of land, water and electricity.

As much as I appreciate the vision of Earth Hour, I think it is a silly exercise. People who take uninterrupted electricity supply need to understand that it is a big responsibility to use it wisely. People with interrupted supply need to recognize the validity of using an alternate source be it a UPS system or a generator and opt for greener alternatives.

Even today I have to contend with family members who get unnerved by my use of the clothesline in sun-rich California and wonder why I do not turn on the dryer.

Technorati Tags: Earth Hour, Global Warming

The Grand Bailout- Part 2

Blokesablogin — Thu, 12 Feb 2009 19:41:54 EST

The Senate and Congress haggled while Mr. President went public, spurring support for his Stimulus Bill. Mr. Bush's TARP has yet to be accounted for and we have gone ahead and approved yet another colossal spending bill. In Tamil we say- jaan pona enna muzham pona enna- meaning once you lost a foot who cares if you lost a yard? Right now in America we pass bills to pay bills with printed bills! Now here is a wonderful way to teach children homonyms.

What is interesting to me, being in California, is that our state budget also is on the floor of the house. Unlike Mr. President's gentle but firm arm wrestling tactics, using his powerful oratory skills, Mr. Governor is unable to budge the folks in Sacramento with his real muscle power! He threatened them with no pay if they did not approve the state budget by this week and they are still out until this Friday.

Mr. President will give us some money back, and if I went to college, some tax credit. Being a 1.2 income family, we certainly fall within the eligibility of being "middle class", as defined by the President.

Sacramento will take away my check from the President as we will pay 1% more sales tax and a 5% surcharge on personal income tax. DMV fees will double and gas will go up by 12 cents/ gal. The irony cannot be missed. The democrats in DC are lowering taxes while the republicans here are raising them!

While the local drama continues, the national drama has been sealed and delivered for Mr. president to sign. He is thrilled that this Stimulus Bill is ready by Lincoln's B-day, today.

The State should get some relief from DC. The rise in taxes here will wipe out the tax relief check we will get from the President. Oh well, life continues...

Poornamadah Poornamidam - You Can't Give Love Away

Blokesablogin — Sat, 7 Feb 2009 00:58:16 EST

This ancient Sanskrit verse from the Vedas speaks of something complete and when given away, remains complete and the part that is given away also is complete or whole!

As a child when I had learned that verse, I wondered at its mathematical impossibility until I realized love. Be it joy or love, when given or received, there is a sense of completion to it. The very process of loving makes us feel complete and the "object" of our love, complete, too! Like Sri Sri Ravi Shankar reminds us, Love is not an emotion, it is our very nature. So true.

Way back in college, we had to read the book by Umberto Eco, titled, The Name of the Rose. The book deals with the interdiction of laughter in religious life and a monk who researches a manuscript on humor. Today, we have an interesting case of love being denied owing to its crass commercialization.

Too often, the word love conjures up images of carnal pleasures rather than the warming of our hearts owing to the excessive material campaigning via mass media. Red roses, chocolates, cards with cheesy verses and sometimes jewellery, make up the "offerings" of this "Day for lovers".

The story of Kama, the god of desire, in the Bhagavatham is interesting. It is said that Kama aids Parvati in winning Shiva and in the process gets burned himself. On her supplication, Shiva "resurrects" Kama, but making him invisible to human eyes with whom he continues to play his games.

The story is layered with symbols. Firstly, the word associated with kama is NOT LOVE, but desires. Another name for Kama is Manmatha, one who churns one's mind! In a spiritual context, desires cause the churning of one's mind causing the restlessness within that demands actions in the physical plane to fulfill them.

The word Prem alludes to the divine. Premswaroop, love being the self-image of the divine, is one of the attributed names of the divine. In this context, the ideal "Valentine" would be one who is in deep meditation.

Bhakti, is the ultimate experience of this love. Pyaar ko pyaar hi rehne do ise koi naam na do (let love be love, do not give it a name) is the ultimate exultation of this experience. This is borne of wisdom, not of hormones.

I would like to see Valentine's Day celebrated with people keeping a Mouna vrat (vow of silence) and recognizing their very nature of peace, love and beauty. We always have Holi to compensate for in March!

The Grand Bailout

Blokesablogin — Tue, 3 Feb 2009 06:55:03 EST

They say that the US is the capital of capitalism! Given the new numbers of Obama's bailout package, it certainly smacks of nationalization of banks - even if you do not call it that. The Congress has approved it and the Senate is considering it before more money can be printed and passed around.

The bailout tag is set at almost $900 billion. Let us divide this number by the US population. That gives us about $3000 per person (approximately), cash (if at all). But this will not help me pay my mortgage for more than a month, then what do I do for the next month? Let us say, each of my family member, 4 of them, get this, then, I can pay 4 months worth of mortgage and have nothing to eat, if I do not have a job. Already, the consumer debt per capita is an astronomical $38,000 (approximately).

I think this entire bailout business is very wise on Obama's part. He knows that the US economy can handle such a big bailout over and above the one burped down by Bush, before he left office. But there needs to be a new vision plan.

It may actually be better if America learns to pay its debts, stop all its war spending and learn to build a wise society based on educating its children and caring for its sick and protecting the environment. Enough of this macho game of being a "super power". Even the adoption of the fiat money accentuates this self-aggrandizement of self-worth. Let the feminine shakthi prevail until all this mess is cleaned up. That means getting down to WORK.

For too long, America has learned to "tell" others to work and stopped working themselves. Of course, they got paid by others to tell them how to work!LOL! Now it is time for America to roll up her sleeves and get to work- the way she has done every time she has confronted historical moments. Time for new barn raisings.

However, the time calls for human values of compassion, trust, hard work, sacrifice and service. There needs to be a return to bartering of skills and work. You clean my house for an hour and I will tutor your kid for an hour. Neither has to exchange "money". For a change, this valuable exchange will deflate the ridiculously high "salaries" of some people and certain professions.

(aside) The banks need to stop charging any fees for some transactions as long as you trust them enough to put your money in them. The CEOs and the rest can learn to make do with minimums (and return their gold waste paper baskets). The previous bailout that our friend Bush initiated ensured that the CEOs could redecorate their offices and order private jets with tax money. Oh well.

This can be taken as a great opportunity to clean up the inflated self-worthiness of "great" financial institutions who have gone around the world insisting on "their" way of business and "their" rules that furthered swindling across the globe with political support from those respective countries. Wow! Now the kid has cried, "The emperor has no clothes!"

HOWEVER, if we look at the amount of debt carried by America after WWII, the current debt seems paltry, when compared to its income. Of course, America exploited earth's resources the last time (after WWII) to get up and fly. Tis time around, she cannot afford to not be green. So, we have got to think "outside" the proverbial box.

Having heard stories from my neighbor, who is 82 and had lived through the depression as a child, I know the American spirit is unbeatable and can handle this mess. For an obese nation, eating humble pie for a while may be just the right diet ordered by the doctor for a healthy, wealthy life ahead. And I know she will soar up to the skies once more like her eagle.

Putting My Faith In Hope

Blokesablogin — Fri, 23 Jan 2009 08:56:02 EST

March 20, 2003: It was a black day for many in the world. I could not believe that I lived in the 21st century- somehow the new century had melded in my head as an era of peace on the planet. This war seemed so medieval ushering in the Dark Ages. In a time of dialogue and electronic networking, an actual war with missiles being dropped from thousands of feet overhead on civilians and military alike appeared like shots from the worst nightmare of hell on earth. I could not believe that a "supposed" Super power got scared and believed that it needed to "show" its strength. It was like a PhD going in for a debate with a Kindergartner to prove that he was smarter.

I knew that this country was earning bad karma.

January 20, 2009: It was a day of rejoicing. The wife, adorned in the hopeful color of sunshine, a dark-skinned man took the oath of office witnessed by millions around the world. My eyes teared up when I realized that this country was finally working on changing its karma. Millions of small donors donating small amounts of money had supported a man who could otherwise have never won this office. To me, I felt that all of those who had voted for this person were taking the oath to commit to a tough time ahead, but willing to pull up their sleeves and getting down to work.

I know that despite the nay sayers, this country will reinvent itself and shrug off its poor beginning of this new century and get going on the path to peace.

Poetics aside, while there are several doubters in the desi community about Obama, I can tell you, there is a shift in spirit amongst the Americans. On Martin Luther King's Birthday, millions of Americans pulled up their sleeves and engaged in Social Work. Their President-elect was there, painting a shelter with blue paint. And he hoped that everyone's service did not stop after that day- rather continue throughout the year. Unprecedented number of people had signed up on www.usaservice.org and the people who had signed up this year was more than double the number from last year.

I hope the Mumbai blasts mobilize Indians to choose honest citizens without criminal records into the parliament, come May. It can be done. We have a precedent. Normally, I would try to "show off" how Great India is; this time around, I would like my countrymen and women to learn the power of the common will. Yes, WE CAN! And we will!

Let us not divide our vote. Let us not abstain. Let us get to know some amazing people from different walks of lives- sincere politicians, doctors, police officers, functionaries, social workers, teachers and professors, farmers- people who have stood up and spoken and worked for the well being of the people, who have not bothered to aggrandize material wealth.

Across the country, let us identify candidates who will bring glory to the Lok Sabha and in turn India. Let us shrug this apathy that nothing can be done- Obama proved everyone wrong on that score. Let us prove ourselves and the world wrong too. If given the possibility of hope, I think we can all do it. Our grandparents did it- they all gave up their fancy clothes and learned to spin khadi.

We are no less determined than they. The amazing part is, we have greater access to resources like SMS and internet that our grandparents never dreamed of. Rather than Facebook, cell phones may just win the election for some good candidates. To begin with, stop electing Sonia Gandhi and her coterie. It is not healthy for a country to trust the same person when things are just not changing.

If we want different results, we need to attempt a different procedure. The Congress is Passe. It has had its day under the sun. It is time to change our tactic as an electorate and make some clear decisions in May. We need to set aside caste and religion divides. Any politician soliciting votes on caste and religion basis, should be deleted from the ballot. It is time for India to vote in Indians. Let the campaign be about India, about pollution, about poverty, about education, about access to drinking water, about countering terrorism. None of these issues have religious or caste preferences.

Vande Mataram.